gunsforhire | log: bar post #something

"Are you about to propose I have to come live with all you guys once you move so I can...do well?"

"No." He wouldn't turn Church away, but he's not going to ask. "It's just different. Even Epsilon never talks about leaving, and I blame York for Sigma's apartment."

"Do you want the family to just stay together? Like, the family that's already been living together. Don't you think it's good for Sigma to live away?"

"That's more than one question," Omega points out. "If Delta moved out...well, the rest of us would be fucked but he'd do fine. And if Epsilon moved out it would take us a while to notice. But Sigma is a goddamn child playing house. It's a good thing Tex is paying for everything because little things like paying bills and turning the lights off are beneath him."

Yeah. Omega's still mad.

"You'd know better than I would." Smelllllls like bullshit to him, but he wouldn't have any idea.

"Now York is living with him." And don't get Omega started on York. "I wonder if he's helping with rent. Helping Tex with rent. I assume they're too busy sucking face to sweep the floor."

Omega considers his standards to be fairly low. He's very disappointed that Sigma doesn't meet them.

His face wrinkles under his helmet. "Who gives a fuck about sweeping the floor? First of all, get a vacuum, it's way easier, and second, you only need to do it when it's dirty."

"Regardless of how he does it, the point is he's not. Without Delta to tell him to do it, apparently he doesn't."

At least Delta hasn't been riding Sigma's ass, as far as Omega knows. "And if that's how the house looks when he knows people are coming over, I shudder to think what it looks like now."

"And I ask again: who gives a fuck? Why do you give a fuck? You don't live there."

"Leaving aside the obvious health and safety issues," Omega says, rolling his eyes, "Sigma deserves to live in a clean house. And I'm only cleaning one."

"Then he can live in his own messy home and be happy about it, or he learns to clean on occasion and be happy about it, whatever. You're not his mom."

Omega doesn't say anything, just stares flatly at Church. With their parents entirely absent, and Price being worse than none at all, Omega is the closest thing Sigma has to a parent.

"...Hello? My helmet didn't just malfunction and you can't hear me right?"

"If I'm not Sigma's mother, who is?"

"Uh, his mom, duh." Their mom. If they actually have one, that is. "That a trick question or something?"

How thick is this guy's skull? "Well, she hasn't bothered to show up," Omega hisses. "And given who she left us with, Sigma's better off with me anyways!"

"You're his brother, dumbass. You don't control his life. You don't clean his house. You can bug him about it as much as you want, but then you'd be a pest. What's he supposed to do, live with the rest of you until you're all old and grey?"

"No," Omega shoots back. "Just until he becomes a functional member of society."

"Is he a legal adult who can, legally, do whatever the fuck he wishes? Then tough luck, kid, but most members of society aren't exactly what I would call 'functional'."

Omega rolls his eyes. "I'm not responsible for them," he says. "I am responsible for Sigma."

"No, you're not?" What the hell, this is just getting weird.

"Don't make me go home and get the paperwork," Omega threatens. Why doesn't Church get that Omega is?

"What, did you go and adopt your own brother?" That would be hella creepy. And also not the point. "Is he or is he not an adult?"

"Of course I did," Omega says. "When I threw Price out, he was only fourteen."

He had adopted them all. Luckily nobody had looked too closely at the paperwork. An eighteen year old stockboy taking care of five brothers between six and sixteen shouldn't pass the smell test.

"Okay, creepy. Aaaaand as for the second question of adult status which would render him no longer under your mommy control?"

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I don't pretend this math is even close.

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