Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Brian entered the house silently, hoping no one would notice. He’d been out late, and he knew how much trouble he’d get in if he was caught, but after so long he’d began to act like he was numb to his father’s treatment and wasn’t as effected, which angered his father. He managed to enter the bedroom he shared with his two younger brothers unnoticed. He expected, and hoped, both of his brothers were asleep. “Brian,” he heard on of his brothers whisper. It was Dennis. “Where have you been? I thought you’d left for good. Carl was worried dad'd kill you when you got home.” “I lost track of time, that’s all.” They both went to sleep shortly after, expecting their parents didn’t know that Brian hadn’t come in until one in the morning. Unfortunately, they were wrong.

The next morning, the three brothers went to the dining room. When they sat at the table, they expected the usual morning, having breakfast and discussing their future in music, sometimes with anger and argument. Today, anger was definitely present. They sat quietly and there was silence, until their father came in. “Brian Douglas Wilson, where the hell were you last night?” Brian paled slightly. “Al and I w-were working.”  He mentally cursed himself for stuttering. “You think I believe that? You haven’t worked for a month! Where were you?” “Al and I were with Louise and Carrie.” He knew it’d be easier to tell the truth. He was expecting to endure his father's wrath, but Murry Wilson turned to Dennis. “And I know you can in at a late hour as well last week. You’d been with a girl, I smelled her perfume. Mary Lou’s her name, isn’t it?” Dennis slowly nodded, waiting for his father to strike. “I thought I’d raised you three to be better. Since I haven’t been able to teach you two properly and nothing is good enough, I have no choice but to resort to other methods.” Brian expected to be struck with something worse than wood, and Dennis thought his father was going to pin him in the bath tub again, but do worse to him than before. What happened was expected by no one. He turned and began to beat Carl. The youngest Wilson faced the least pain from their father. He typically stayed quiet and tried to avoid Murry. The first blow knocked Carl down to the floor. Brian leapt up and tried to pull their father away, as did Dennis, but they couldn’t. As the abuse continued, Carl screamed and cried, begging his father to stop, as he was struck by not only his father’s own body, but also with wooden objects, such as a wooden spoon and board. After about twenty minutes and many blows and strikes, Murry stepped back. “Carl, that wasn’t only punishment to them, but to you as well. You’re useless Carl, absolutely useless.” Then he left the room.

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After their father left, Brian and Dennis immediately rushed to Carl. He was crying softly and bleeding, and mostly knocked out. I didn’t think even dad was horrible enough to do something like this. He hurt Carl because of me and Dennis. Why’d he have to do this? Brian thought. Even if Carl was 13 now, he was still their baby brother and they hated to see him like this. The two older Wilson brothers brought him to their bedroom and laid him down on his bed. Dennis went into the bathroom and got a few wet washcloths. He wiped the blood off of Carl’s face and shook his head. He and Brian went to the other side of the room, where Carl couldn’t hear them.  

“How could he do this to Carl? Beat him and call him useless? And why do you suppose he called him useless?” Dennis murmured. 

“I don’t know why he called him useless, probably re-realized that Carl exists and mom couldn’t really stop him. He must’ve decided he’s gonna treat Carl like us, even though he’s never done any major wrong. But he beat him to get to us. He knows he doesn’t bother us as much as he used to. He knew we couldn’t bear it.” They stood in silence. They heard Carl start to whimper and realized he was coming around. Brian went over to him, and Dennis followed. 

“Carl?” Brian softly asked. There was a haunted look in his eyes when he looked at Brian. A haunted look Brian knew all too well. He’d seen it in his own reflection and in Dennis’s eyes for the longest time, even still sometimes. Carl had always had it too, but now it was worse than before. Dennis grabbed another washcloth and cleaned his brother’s face again. “How are you feeling? Where's hurt?” Brian asked, starting to panic. He’d been starting to do that frequently. He had panic attacks and nervous breakdowns often, but tried to keep his brothers from knowing because he didn’t want to scare or worry them.

He’d been hoping Carl would respond verbally to his name, but hadn’t. Before Carl answered, Dennis did. Dennis faced his hand toward Brian, revealing the blood that covered it. “His back’s bleeding,” he said to Brian. Brian and Dennis proceeded to clean his cuts and wounds. Carl stayed quiet most of the time and only reacted when they used peroxide on the cuts and gashes. The main areas affected were his back and left leg. After they finished, Brian again tried to talk to his brother.

”Carl, talk to me, please. Are you feeling okay? Did we miss anything? Do you feel better? How bad does it hurt?” Brian rambled, still suffering from anxiety. 

“Brian, slow down. You’ll overwhelm him,” Dennis muttered.

”I feel somewhat better. I’m just glad it’s all over,” Carl managed.

Brian eased slightly, having now heard his brother reply. He was happier, knowing that Carl would be okay, but he didn’t know what to do now.

Time passed and eventually it was late in the day. Audree Wilson called her sons to dinner and Brian stood up from his bed that he’d been on. Dennis also made ready to enter the kitchen. Brian and Dennis went without Carl after he asked them too. 

When they took their seat at the table, everything went along quietly and almost no one spoke. About halfway through, Audree asked the question she’d been meaning to the whole time. “Where’s Carl?” Murry wasn’t at the table at this point in time, so they answered her honestly. They told her that he was still in their room due to the incident earlier that day.

When Murry returned, almost the same thing happened as with Audree. “Where’s the other one?” he asked after looking at Brian and Dennis. “He’s still in our room,” was the answer given, laced with hate and ice. Either Murry didn’t notice or care about the tone of the response. He just shrugged and said, “He doesn’t have to eat tonight. He could afford lose a few pounds. In fact, all of you could.” As he said this, he made a jab at Dennis’s waist under the table. 

Not long after this, Dennis and Brian returned to their bedroom. Carl had at some point during their absence gotten his guitar and was now playing simple cords and melodies on his bed. Dennis went and laid face down on his bed. They all said nothing. The mood was blue and they could all feel it. Eventually, Brian decided to try and brighten things.

”Why don’t we do a song?” Brian asked.

Dennis rolled over and Carl stopped playing. 

“What one?” Carl asked.

”Let’s do Ivory Tower,” Dennis said.

Ivory Tower was the first song they’d ever sang together. They all knew it perfectly. Brian had taught them many years ago.

Carl started to play the chords and they began their song.

As soon as their song was over, Brian smiled, seeing that his idea to cheer up himself and his brothers had worked.