SLEEP DOESN'T FEEL LIKE SLEEP TO FINNEY FOSTER. He has heard that you're supposed to feel refreshed, well rested, content. It may be because Finney never dreams... or maybe he just dreams too hard. Every dream is like he's awake. When he wakes up—if you even call it that—his body feels fine, but his brain is slow on the uptake. Sometimes his dreams are quiet. He can find a corner to sit in and just stare into the nothingness. Other times he's Spider-Man for some reason, shooting through the streets of New York.

Finney doesn't even have an opinion on Spider-Man, so he has absolutely no idea why his dreams are constantly infiltrated by him. It is annoying. Those dreams leave him restless, generally with the urge to swing via webs, which is pretty unattainable. So yeah, actually, Finney does have an opinion on Spider-Man: he totally sucks.

Finney's alarm blares two hours before the rest of his family's. He doesn't think they are aware of that fact, though. Flora sleeps until ten on her off days and wakes up at five when she's forced to work. There hasn't been a day when Fawn didn't sleep through her own alarm—but can you really call soothing ocean sounds an alarm? She's setting herself up for failure with that one. Besides, they wouldn't understand why Finney would have to wake up two hours earlier to just make them breakfast. They aren't aware that he is basically feeding a whole extended family.

The Fosters live in a rather sketchy apartment complex in Hell's Kitchen. That means that the people living there usually have rather sketchy lifestyles. That means that almost all of them either cannot or do not feed themselves. That is where Finney's early schedule comes into play. He tries his best to always have something extra in the fridge, always baking something in the oven, always trying to make sure everyone gets a little bit to eat. He only gives the best leftovers to one of his neighbors, though.

Finney puts the food into ziplock bags from the dollar store and leaves them in front of their doors. Well, for most of them. This is where the leftovers come in.

Two floors beneath the Fosters lives a mess of a human being. One that could be called a garbage human being, even. One that lives off of strong alcohol and spite. This person needs a little bit more help than the rest of them. Even when Malcolm was under the control of Killgrave he still accepted the food Finney offered.

Finney has to wait outside her door for at least twenty minutes every time. "Open the damn door, Jessica!" the boy calls out, knocking on the door as aggressively as he could without getting a splinter (he hates that door).

"Fuck off, Foster!"

"I will let you know that you are being very rude!" Finney pauses, before yelling, "we had lasagna last night!"

That catches Jessica's attention and the door opens before he can punch it again. She's wearing the same thing she's been wearing for years now.

"Change your clothes, you smell," Finney says, handing the food to her. She takes it, opening the Tupperware container to sniff it.

"Get your ass back to your apartment before I throw you out a window. It'll be quicker that way," she threatens.

"You know I live above you—" the door closes in Finney's face. He stares at it for a moment before saying, "drink water today!" He doesn't wait for an answer (he wasn't going to get one anyway) and drops off Malcolm's food, knocking on his door to notify him of the delivered food before returning to the elevator.

Finney gets to his apartment before any of his sisters wake up. They still haven't noticed his escapades throughout the apartment complex and he guesses they never would. Flora has a lot on her plate while being very sleep deprived and his twin telepathy with Fawn only goes so far.

Finney pops the waffles he made the night before into the toaster—three to be exact—and looks at the clock on his phone. Time to wake up the only Foster sibling who needs to go to school with him: Fawn. To do so, he opens her door, grabs one of her slippers, and chucks it at the lump in the bed that was his sister.

"Lemme sleep," the lump groans.

Finney throws the other slipper. "Chocolate waffles are getting toasted, dumbass. You don't want cold waffles—no one likes cold waffles."

Fawn finally rolls over and peeks out of her orange duvet. "Sleep is better than warm waffles."

"Don't be stupid, nothing is better than warm waffles," Finney argues.

Fawn throws one of the slippers at Finney, missing him by a long shot. He doesn't flinch. "Get back, Satan."

"You know that Mariah's going to be here sooner rather than later—" he is interrupted by the front door squealing open. "Speak of the devil. You know I will send her in here to torture you if you don't hurry up."

That causes Fawn to roll out of bed with a start, and just in time, since as she does so Mariah McCall appears at Finney's shoulder. She groans, the evil grin spotted on her face seconds before melting into disappointment. "She's already awake? I had my auto tune app pulled up and everything!"

Fawn jumps up, holding up her arms. "I beg you to not."

The toaster lets out a shrill beep. "Saved by the waffle," Finney remarks as he slides past his friend and into the kitchen. Mariah had no need to go to the Fosters' before school. In fact, it's out of her way, since she lives in the better part of town. She says it's because of Finney and Fawn's company—Finney thinks it's actually a mix of his cooking and McCall family issues.

"Mmm, waffles," Mariah murmurs and Finney tentatively takes them out of the toaster with his thumb and index finger, hissing in pain as he does so. Their toaster is a feral beast. It either somehow freezes what it was meant to warm up or singes the prints off his fingers. Finney is pretty sure he got a third degree burn from it once, but it healed after a while (and why would he waste money on a stupid burn? It's not like he needs his hands or anything).

Fawn motions for Mariah to put one of the waffles into her mouth. She crinkles her nose as she does so. Finney watches in horror as Fawn, waffle stuffed in her mouth, shuffles towards the bathroom.

"Oh, gross, Fawn," Mariah states.

"'M jus' washin' m' hans." The water turns on. Finney lets out a quiet sigh of relief.

"You got the homework done?" he asks as he throws his backpack in the vicinity of the door, landing it on the floor with a solid clunk.

"Everything except the fifth for some reason. My brain would not compute," Mariah says before stuffing her mouth with the waffle.

"Trade for answer ten?"

Mariah pulls out the papers from her backpack and slaps them down on the table, pointing to the answer. Finney takes his own homework from the pocket of his hoodie and slides it to his friend. She grins. "You are amazing, I love you."

Fawn bursts out of the bathroom, a vision in yellow. Her pants are orange, her sweater (which she knit herself, thank you very much) was striped yellow and white, and her wheelies—which used to be Finney's before she stole them—had suns drawn onto the soles.

"How do I look?" Fawn asks, giving the teenagers a little twirl.

"Amazing!" Mariah exclaims.

"Finney? How do I look?"

"Yellow."

Fawn grins. "That is a compliment. Come on, we're gonna be late if you guys don't keep trading homework, which is technically not allowed by the way."

"Don't be a spoilsport," Mariah groans.

"Didn't you copy parts of my essay on Great Expectations, though—?" Finney asks, but is quickly shh'd.

"You took one for the team that time," Fawn says. "That was probably the kindest thing you've ever done and I'm eternally grateful. Now come on, come on!" She claps as she says this, a grin on her face. No matter how little sleep, no matter how much on her shoulders, Finney's sister always seems to have a smile on her face.

The elevator down stops at Jessica's floor. The woman stands there, arms crossed in exasperation. She scoffs when she sees the teenagers.

"There's room for all of us!" Mariah offers, gesturing to the small area not occupied by the three of them. Finney raises his eyebrows as Jessica begrudgingly shuffles through, settling herself uncomfortably in the corner. She smells like Jack Daniels (a smell Finney is accustomed to.)

"How's your day been?" Fawn asks.

"Shit," Jessica states.

"Oh, lovely," Finney quips, earning a slap to the shoulder by his twin, to which he is unphased.

The elevator dings again. Jessica escapes first, followed by a hesitating Mariah, Fawn using her wheelies to be faster than Finney, and then Finney himself.

"Bye, Jessica!" Finney calls out before he loses her in the crowd. He is given a middle finger in response. He laughs, though Mariah is slightly flabbergasted. He doesn't think she quite understands Jessica. He doesn't think a lot of people do, really.

But he's seen Killgrave. He's been controlled by Killgrave. He almost died because of the person that hurt Jessica so profoundly. He is one of the few that really understand her, at least that's what he thinks.

They take the subway to Midtown High, with Mariah taking the only seat left and Fawn using her friend as a way to stop standing. Finney—knowing he would crush the two girls—chose to stand, holding onto the pole. Due to the fact that he has no one to text with (his only friends a few feet away), he chooses to scroll through Instagram, failing miserably to not be bored.

The train lightly shakes, stirring Finney's thoughts. You know what would be interesting? If this whole train crashed right now, he thinks—merely an intrusive musing. He can see it in his mind's eye vividly like it's actually happening, the fire and the blood. Suddenly, everyone in the train car jolts besides Finney himself. He looks around, bewildered. Some were blinking it away, others looked slightly sick. He shook it off. The train probably moved and he didn't notice.

The subway station is a few blocks away from Midtown. The fresh air hits Finney like a truck as he emerges from the underground. Mariah quickly wraps an arm around the boy, the other around his twin.

"Shit," Finney curses under his breath. "I didn't have coffee today."

Fawn giggles. "Oh, we're dead. Uncaffeinated Finney is Murderous Finney."

"We can skip the first class to get Starbucks?" Mariah offers, grinning at the thought.

"We're broke, Mariah," Finney reminds in a blunt tone.

"Oh god, right. I'll pay then?"

"We don't have the money to skip out on a class either!" Fawn exclaims. She adjusts her backpack (the one she's had for almost her whole life). "These scholarships are not something we should fuck around with."

"Fine," Mariah says, brushing off her thought. It's easy for her to throw away money on crappy coffee. She doesn't need a scholarship. She's got an insane amount of pocket money. The Fosters do not. Rent is always due too soon, and even though every sibling has a job—after school and otherwise—there always seems to be an extra bill on the counter.

The Fosters and Mariah make their way to Midtown High. They are just about to enter when Finney hears, "what's up Penis Parker?"

He turns around just in time to see Flash Thompson zoom past, narrowly missing Peter Parker. Finney stalls, losing Mariah and Fawn in the crowd as he double-checks Peter for any signs of actually being run over. When he sees nothing, he simply nods at the boy before speed-walking into the school.

Finney finds Mariah and Fawn at the former's locker, crowded around the opened door. He taps his twin's shoulder to alert her of his presence.

Fawn turns. "Hey, took you long enough."

"It's fine," Mariah says. "He was just gawking at Peter Parker."

Fawn nods in acknowledgment. "Ah, yes. Finney's obsession with Peter, almost forgot."

"Hey! I'm not obsessed!" Finney exclaims.

Fawn raises her eyebrows, smirking slightly. "Saying it doesn't make it any less true."

Finney shakes his head. "You two are insane. And stupid."

"You're in denial," Mariah states.

"I'm not denying that I like him, I'm just saying that I'm not obsessed." He quickly looks at his phone, checking the time. "Ah, I've got math. See you at lunch."

Finney has a crush on Peter, so what? It's normal for teenagers to have crushes on other teenagers. He doesn't really talk to Peter, though. It's not on purpose, they do go to the same school and go to relatively the same classes. It's just that Peter's got Ned Leeds and Finney's got Fawn and Mariah. They've got their own mini social circles and this is not a venn diagram.

But Peter is super cute and dorky and likes Star Wars and Star Trek. But he's also straight. So, yeah, it sucks. But every gay teen has to have an unattainable crush on a straight person. It's a right of passage. He just wishes that Peter wasn't his right of passage. But it's pretty damn obvious that he's straight: he has not yet seen a guy make bigger heart eyes at Liz Toomes.

In fact, Finney is staring at the back of Peter's head right now, and probably has been for a while, due to the fact that they're both walking in the same direction. He bites the inside of his cheek as he turns around the corner, separating from Peter as he does so.

☁ ☁ ☁

Finney always packs lunches for him and Fawn. This time it's the rest of the lasagna. It's Fawn's favorite—and Mariah's too. That's why he's splitting his meal with Mariah's Subway sandwich. The trio watch Liz put up a homecoming sign.

"Are you guys going to the dance?" Mariah asks offhandedly, tossing the Subway wrapper into the air and catching it before it could fall onto the rest of her food.

"Depends on my work schedule," Fawn says.

Finney nods. "Same. Sub Haven is not a haven for good teenage fun, as it turns out."

Mariah laughs. "It's not even a haven for good food."

"Hey! That's my job you are besmirching," Finney says in a halfhearted manner. He plays with the rest of his food, batting away Fawn's fork with his own before she could take the last glob of melted cheese. She sticks her tongue out in indignation and he returns the favor.

"Their subs have too much bread, not enough sauce. I didn't come for a sub roll, I came for the stuff in it."

"At least it's a small business rather than a large corporation," Fawn offers, scraping the last bits of lasagna off of her Tupperware container. "Hey, didn't we have more of this back home—?"

Finney clears his throat dramatically. "Uh, no, this was the last of it."

He's not super sure why he wants to keep his food escapades from his family. Maybe it's got something to do with not wanting to bother them, maybe it's that he doesn't want to be bothered by them. Besides, Jessica would not love the whole apartment complex knowing that she also accepts the daily handouts. Anyway, he would rather he kept his morning activities to himself.

The rest of the school day goes by relatively quickly, especially since he spends most of it staring at the clock. He signed up for an earlier shift than necessary, because Flora is getting off of work early for movie night. He still needs the hours though, so that's why he doesn't have time to say goodbye to his friends when the final bell rings. He rushes out the door, putting his backpack on as he does so. He skids past the rest of the students.

While looking back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Fawn or Mariah, he sees—did Peter just scale that fence? He was definitely on the other side of that thing before. Finney wrinkles his nose, giving himself a split second of confusion, before realizing, ah, yes, sleep deprivation. Yeah, that's it. It's not like Peter could possibly climb that fence in a half second, right?

Finney shakes himself out of his stupor and continues his rage against the clock. Money, yeah, he needs that.

☁ ☁ ☁

2788 words

First chapter! Hope y'all like it!