You know how I said cutscenes have nothing to do with plot? Well, this one does. All of the other ones don't (unless I've said they do).

Trigger warning for death and self delete. Yes, it's actually described and put into detail this time. Please, be very careful while reading this! It's heavy stuff! (Don't worry, I'll be including a synopsis at the end)

Also, this should clear up a bit about the whole "Joel wants to adopt Grian" deal in Act XXV and explain what Joel's panic attack last chapter was about. Hopefully it'll make a bit more sense to y'all.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter! Or, at least, try not to bawl your eyes out /lh/hj

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"Joel, make sure your father has somewhere comfortable to sit when he gets home from work, alright, sweeheart?" Joel's mother, Arabella, called from the kitchen.

Twelve-year-old Joel rolled his eyes from the sofa and called back, "Yes, mother." He made a face as he grumbled to himself about having to move for his father. Why should I move? he thought bitterly. What does he do for us that's worth me moving from my seat for him?

"Will you come help me make these croissants?"

Joel immediately stopped his grumbling and hopped off the sofa, scurrying into the kitchen where his mother was. She had one of those small box TVs sitting on the counter as she baked, playing the news and weather channel.

Arabella smiled at her son as he rushed into the kitchen, beckoning him over with a wave of her hand. "Roll out this dough for me?" she asked, giggling as Joel nodded happily.

As Joel began to kneed the dough, Arabella moved on to taking a half-cooked dinner out of the oven, seasoning it before putting it back in again to cook longer. She glanced over at the little television, frowning.

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "Another car crash at the intersection?" She huffed, removing her apron. "They need to do something about that, I'm tellin' you. Someone's going to get real hurt one of these-" She froze and Joel looked up at her, slightly confused.

"Mama?"

Arabella looked like she'd seen a ghost. Or maybe an army of ghosts. Or maybe just the afterlife itself. Either way, she looked unwell and pale. "Joel, sweetheart," she said softly, reaching for the boy. He let her pull him into a hug. "Don't look at the TV, dear."

Despite what his mother told him, he'd already been facing the TV. On screen, a reporter was standing in front of the wrecks of two small cars and a pick-up truck, talking away about some sort of "tragedy." There were police officers and first responders taking someone away on a stretcher.

The stretcher was covered. Someone had died.

But it wasn't just anyone, no. Why would it be?

On the screen was shown the picture of a middle-aged man's I.D. The man had black hair, some gray from stress at the roots, and brown eyes. His forehead was slightly wrinkled from the unhappy expression on his face.

Joel knew that scowl. That was his father's scowl. It was the ugly, repulsive scowl that Joel's father gave him and Arabella because he hated them. And now he was the dead man on the stretcher being taken away.

A strange feeling of relief filled Joel. We don't have to deal with that old sleeze anymore, he thought. Mama can be happy.

But that's not how it happened. Why would that be how it happened? Why would anyone get to be happy, even though the only thing in the world that's hurting them is gone?

I guess that's on the same line as asking why Mama even hung around that dick bag in the first place.

After finding out her husband's death in the kitchen, Arabella had thrown away the dinner she prepared and took the dough Joel was kneeding to toss that, too. Then she moved on the pulling everything out of the cupboard and pelting it to the floor. Then she moved to the refrigerator. Then the pantry. Then the shelves in the living room.

Joel knew better than to say or do anything. What place was he in to tell her to stop? She loved the old snot rag whether Joel approved of it or not. She was grieving.

Was this what grieving looked like? Should he be doing this, too? Should he be destroying their quaint little home, shattering vases and smashing portraits?

All he felt was a weight lifted off his shoulders. He wasn't upset. He was overjoyed. He and Arabella weren't going to get beaten over simple, stupid things anymore. But what did that mean for Arabella?

When Joel went to bed that night, he fell asleep to the sound of screaming and things breaking. And when he woke up, he woke up to a mother in a low.

Arabella fell into the worst depression Joel had ever seen after that. She refused to get out of bed eighty percent of the time, and when she would get out of bed, she would be on the couch grumbling about everything being too difficult. She wouldn't take care of herself or her son, and Joel didn't know how to cook very well. All he knew how to do was roll croissants as that's the only thing his mother taught him.

They both lost weight pretty quickly, and Arabella got ill way too often for Joel's liking. Whenever he would give her medicine, she would deny needing it, saying that it's not worth wasting it on someone who'll die anyway. Though when she would take it, her body would reject it most of the time.

Joel had skipped a lot of school to take care of Arabella, but she insisted an education was more important.

"Joel, you're back!" Lizzie exclaimed when she spotted him in the hallway at school. "You-" She paused, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. "You look sick," she said slowly. "I heard about your father, but I didn't think it'd take this much of a to-"

"It's fine," Joel interrupted, wrapping his arms around himself. "I don't care about that asshole. He can burn in Hell, for all I give a fuck."

Lizzie winced at Joel's fowl language. "Don't say those things," she scolded. "That's rude, and" - she froze when Joel shot her a cold stare - "uncalled for..."

Joel scoffed. "You know what's uncalled for? Abusing family just because you can," he spat. "Don't expect me to apologize for what I said. I don't care if he's my dad. He put his hands on my mama and he hurt her. He deserved to die, and I'm glad he did." With a huff, Joel turned and walked away.

[Warning: This is where things start to get pretty dark! Be safe <3]

It hadn't been long before Lizzie found out about Joel's situation with his mother. Since then, Lizzie and her mother, Josephine-Elizabeth, would cook for Joel and Arabella. Sometimes they'd try to teach Joel how to cook, but the best he could do himself was heat things up in the microwave. But that didn't stop him from asking to learn how to use the stove.

Eventually, he did good enough on the stove that Josephine and Lizzie weren't as concerned about their food situation.

Josie and Lizzie had been helping Joel cook that awful night. That terrible, terrible night that would become engraved into Joel's memory for the rest of his life.

The kind lady and her daughter had said goodbye, and Arabella had been lying on the sofa in the living room.

Joel was stirring a delicious pot of stew that Josephine and Lizzie helped him make.

"Dinner's almost ready, Mama," Joel called to Arabella. He turned to make sure she was alright on the sofa, as lately when she was quiet like this, she would be attempting her life. But she wasn't on the sofa. She standing - standing! - and walking toward Joel, smiling and holding her arms out for a hug.

Joel did a double-take. Holding back tears, he set the wooden spoon he was stirring with down and turned to hug his mother. He melted into the touch, the urge to break down into a blubbering mess building in his tired limbs. Eventually, he forced himself to pull away as Arabella did.

"I can't wait to try it," she said. She spoke. She talked to him. Joel felt like sobbing.

Nodding, the boy checked on the stew again. "It'll be done really soon," he said happily.

Arabella's eyes and smile softened. "I love you, dear," she whispered.

"I love you, too, Mama."

Arabella turned and began to make her way toward the bathroom, saying, "I'm going to take a shower. I should be done in time for the stew to have cooled a bit."

Joel glanced over, confused for a moment. "Alright," he said hesitantly. She's showering? Now?

She never came out. He waited, and waited, and waited, and she never came out of that bathroom.

"Mama," he called nervously. "The stew's cooled. You can..." He gulped. "You can come get it."

No response.

"Mama?"

The water had been running. He heard the water running. Why wasn't she answering? She was only supposed to be taking a shower. She was supposed to be fine.

He didn't want to know what happened in that bathroom. He didn't want to see her hanging from the ceiling like that, the color drained from her face and her limbs all limp and still. He wanted to believe she was okay. He wanted her to be okay.

That's all he ever wanted.

For her to be okay.

But now she's dead.

She's hanging over the shower, dead.

And it's all my fault.

I killed her.

I killed my mama.

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SYNOPSIS:
During this chapter, Joel is twelve

Joel always loved his mother. She was kind and sweet, unlike Joel's father, who was harsh and abusive to the both of them. One day while Arabella (Joel's mom) was making dinner, she asked him to start rolling out dough to make croissants for dessert. On the TV, there's news of a car crash and someone was *unalived* because of it. That "someone" was Joel's father.

After that, Arabella fell into a depression. She refused to eat and get up from bed or the sofa, and she wouldn't take care of herself. Because of this, Joel made keeping her alive his first priority, and he also was ill.

When Lizzie found out about Joel's situation, she and her mother, Josephine-Elizabeth, helped cook for him and tried to teach him how to do it himself. One night, after Josephine and Lizzie left, Arabella looked happy and actually got up off the sofa to hug Joel. She told him she was going to take a shower and she would be out when dinner was ready.

When Joel went to check up on her, he found her *unalived* in the shower. He blamed himself for it.

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So. Heavy chapter. Lots of stuff happened.

Just a "warning"... this is kind of a preview of the book about Grian and Joel. Um. Yeah. Next book is going to be a lot worse than this one. Insert nervous laughter

Also, if it's still unclear how this makes the whole adoption thing make more sense, essentially Joel has had the instinct of taking care of people close to him since his father never took care of him and his mother much, and felt even more so responsible for taking care of his mother after his father died. The same goes for how he feels with Grian; Joel feels like, because Grian's been emotionally neglected his whole life, it's his responsibility to give Grian that recognition and parental presence he's lacked, despite being only a few years older.