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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

By My Side (Part 4)

Summary: The reader goes to dinner with her step brothers, Michael and Nick, as well as Jensen. When Jensen starts to see how her brothers treat her though, Jensen and the reader have a heart to heart and start to try a different tactic with their relationship...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, sibling angst, minor violence, mentioned prior deaths

A/N: Enjoy!

_________

Monday Evening

“Hey pipsqueak,” said Nick, your arms crossed from where you sat on the couch trying to watch TV. “Since dad and your mom are at dinner at that fancy place, maybe you could take us out?”

“Yeah,” said Michael, still texting away on his phone at the other end of the couch. “There’s that steak place dad said was good. Y/N, you want to have dinner with your big brothers?”

“Not particularly,” you said.

“She still hate us?” said Nick as he came up to the back of the couch, ruffling your hair and placing his hands on your shoulders. “You gotta let that shit go. We were kids.”

“I was a kid. You were both twenty years old and you two harassed me until I moved out, well past when you knew better. Now that I have money, you two-”

“What was that?” asked Nick and you swallowed. “Come on. Let’s get dinner.”

“Whatever. Jensen! We’re going to dinner wherever you are,” you called out. “Jensen!”

He came down the far hallway near where your office was, his hand behind his back on his holster but you shook your head.

“We’re going out,” you said as he dropped his hand down. “To eat. We’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“I’m going with you,” he said. You thought that was odd of him but he made his jaw hard and clenched it. “It’s part of my contract. I go where you go.”

“He’s perky isn’t he,” said Michael as he stood up. You rolled your eyes and went towards the front door to get your purse.

Half an hour later the three of you were seated with Jensen sat at the bar close by and keeping an eye on you.

“Surprised he didn’t ask to sit with us,” mumbled Nick. “Why do you have a bodyguard again?”

“After my old manager tried to have me kidnapped for publicity,” you said.

“You know how to pick ‘em,” said Michael. You gripped the menu tight and reviewed it, already knowing your step brothers wouldn’t even pretend to offer to pay for their meals. You never quite understood them. Chuck was always good to your mom and nice to you. You weren’t particularly close but you didn’t dislike each other either. You got along, he asked about you, you spent time together whenever you visited them. Chuck had always been okay in your book. His children though you could have sworn were adopted with how horrible they could be to you.

“How much you want to bet me I could get that douchey little bodyguard over here in less then five seconds?” asked Nick, a smirk on his face you didn’t like.

“He’s just doing his job. Let him do it in peace.”

“I still don’t get why you have one,” said Michael as he looked over the wine list. “Compared to the other girl on the show, you’re like, not good looking.”

“Dude, I’m your sister. You’re not supposed to find me good looking.”

“I know that, dipshit. I mean, you’re just, plain,” he said. “You’re not the main lead. That’s probably why.”

“I’m co-lead. We have no main lead.”

“But you’re second on the call sheet credits thing,” said Nick.

“Cause Gen got hired before me.”

“She’s still hotter than you,” mumbled Nick.

“She’s married and they’re both my best friends.”

“I didn’t say I want to fuck her. Relax. You’re always so uptight,” said Nick. You bit your tongue and weren’t surprised when Michael ordered a few hundred dollar bottle of wine. You got the twenty dollar one you normally did that tasted just as good and Nick went for an expensive Scotch you’d never heard of.

“Oh,” you said to the waiter before he could leave. “The man on the end of the bar there, his drinks and meal are on me.”

“No problem,” he said as he took off.

“She’s got no problem paying for his food,” muttered Michael.

“It’s part of his job. For him, this is a business expense,” you said. You gnawed the inside of your cheek and forced a smile. “The garlic bread is very good here if you guys want to get some.”

“Good with me,” said Michael. He gave you a smile, a genuine one before he was checking his phone again. You’d always liked Michael far more than Nick. On his own, Michael was a pretty decent guy. When he got with Nick though, and that was more often than not, even into adulthood, he was normally pretty unbearable.

“Working any big new clients?” you asked, your voice a tad too high but he ignored it while Nick went to the restroom.

“Potentially. I actually got a job offer in LA. Senior partner,” he said.

“That’s great,” you said, Michael smiling.

“You’re actually happy about that, for real,” he said.

“You’re incredibly smart. You always have been. I’m really happy you’re getting out of our little hometown and going to work at a bigger firm,” you said. “That’s a really big deal. You should be proud.”

“Here I thought you’d tell me not to move to your city,” he said.

“Why do you think I’d say that?” you asked.

“You don’t like us,” he said, nodding to the empty spot beside him. “You never have.”

“You guys are dicks most of the time. You skipped over the getting to know each other thing and went right into horrible dick older brothers.”

“We weren’t horrible. We still aren’t. I have worked cases that would make your skin crawl. We’re the Brady bunch compared to most people.”

“My dad died and I was so excited to have big brothers, you know? That year was so horrible and Chuck made mom stop crying and laugh again and I love him for that. But you guys...it doesn’t matter. I’m happy you’re getting a promotion, Michael.”

“Our mom died too that year,” he said, lowering his head.

“I know she did,” you said. “Forget I said anything.”

“So when do you go back to work?” asked Michael as Nick returned.

“A few months from now,” you said.

“What are you gonna do after that?” he asked.

“Honestly I’m not sure right now. I like TV but I might do movies. My options are pretty open,” you said. “How’s teaching going?”

“Always a joy,” said Nick, taking a long sip of his water. “I got tenure finally. Not sure if I’m gonna stay though. If Mikey moves out here I might take a position at UCLA.”

“Oh. So you’re thinking of moving out here too?” you asked. Nick narrowed his eyes and you you looked away. “Maybe mom and Chuck will come out if you guys do.”

“Maybe,” said Nick. Thankfully you spotted your waiter come back with your drinks and you were able to order your appetizer and dinner, already expecting a nearly thousand dollar bill thanks to their alcohol choices.

“I’ll be right back,” you said. You excused yourself and walked over to the bar, Jensen sipping on a glass of beer while he half-watched a TV behind the bar.

“Require saving from your brothers?” he smirked to himself, turning before you could tap him on the shoulder.

“Why do you say that?” you asked, leaning against the padded bartop.

“Just a vibe I get, you and Nick especially,” he said. “Nobody gets a pass from me.”

“He’s not a great older brother but he’s harmless,” you said.

“He intimidates you.”

“Like I said, he’s not great but the worst thing he’s ever done was leave me with a group of strange guys. Michael did the same thing. Otherwise they’re just like, crappy older brothers.”

“Crappy or something else? Like I said, nobody gets a pass from me.”

“Jensen. They would never hurt me. I swear on my life.”

“Michael wouldn’t. Nick...I’ll be keeping an eye on him, both of them, whether you want me to or not. I’m the asshole bodyguard after all,” he smirked again.

“Well, it sounds like they’re both gonna move out here soon so we’ll be seeing them more.”

“Lovely,” said Jensen. “So why’d you come over? Need a break from them?”

“Yes. Also, I already told the waiter but your drinks and food are all on me. Feel free to order whatever you want,” you said.

“I’ll stick to the one beer. I’m at work still,” he said.

“They have really good steak. The filet is amazing along with the green beans,” you said. Jensen smiled and played with his glass, swishing the ice cubes around. “The lobster macaroni is also a great side.”

“That’s a hundred dollar steak.”

“Jensen, you know I can afford it.”

“I also know how much you’re paying me. I can afford it.”

“Jensen. I’m your boss. I’m paying for it. Next time I want Taco Bell, you can pay at the drive through if it makes you feel better,” you said. He smiled, a soft gentle little smile you’d never seen on his face before. You returned it, Jensen staring at you before he shook his head and it fell away.

“I’m going to lose this argument, aren’t I.”

“Yeah, you are. I’d much rather pay for your meal than those two bimbos. I like you better,” you said.

“Must have a pretty low bar for them then,” he said.

“Why’d you stop talking to me? After the paparazzi guy?” you asked. He shrugged and wiped off a stray drop of condensation on his glass. “Please?”

“There’s a line I have to keep with you. We can be friendly but if something happens, I am in charge. There can be no doubts about that. I felt that I needed to step back and reaffirm that boundary.”

“We can keep the boundary. But we can be friends too. If you say hide, I’ll hide. If you say run, I’ll run. I know you think I’m a dumb actress but-”

“You’re not dumb. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” he said. You blinked and he offered a half smile. “You have an ability to push through panic and be logical. I know guys with all the training in the world that can’t do that. You’re not a dumb actress. It’s obvious that you were raised to be intelligent.”

“My point is, I will do what you tell me to when it’s those hard moments. But I have confidence that you were wrong before. You can like someone, maybe even care about them like a friend, and still be able to protect them. I actually think it’ll make you better at your job.”

“Give me one example of where that works. Just one.”

“Maybe you want to try talking to your bestie, Jared,” you said. “Or literally most anyone in a relationship anywhere.”

“Touche,” he said. He smiled and nodded. “No more cold shoulder.”

“Thanks.”

“So I should try the macaroni with my steak?” he asked.

“And the green beans. You get two sides. You can get however many you want actually. The dessert selection here is even better than the steak if you can believe it.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” he said. “But no green beans. Traumatic childhood incident with them.”

“I better not be attacked by the cabbage patch kids. They might just take you down,” you said, Jensen giggling to himself. “Oh, he does laugh. Good to know. The roasted truffle garlic fries are really good too.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I think I’ll check them out.”

“Do you want to sit with us?” you asked, nodding back towards the table.

“I better not. I don’t think your brothers like me very much,” he said. “I got a better vantage point over here anyways.”

“Vantage point?” you asked.

“Got a weird feeling is all. I want to stay sharp tonight,” he said. You nodded and turned to go, Jensen catching your bicep. “If something happens, what do you do?”

“Duck and cover and wait for you to get me,” you said.

“Good girl. You did read my instructions.”

“Yup. Even read the part about how to get out of your hands being tied behind your back. Unfortunately, I’m not flexible enough and my ass is too big for that,” you said. He chuckled and you smirked. “Oh you know it is.”

“I’m not opposed to that fact,” he said. You went wide eyed and he laughed. “My boss is hot, what can I say.”

“You better stick to the one drink after all, Ackles,” you said, laughing as you lightly whacked his arm. “Try the triple brownie sundae for dessert. You won’t regret it.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“I think I gained five pounds,” said Michael, stretching out in his seat nearly two hours later, the waiter bringing over the check. You frowned at the bill but it was what you were expecting. You stuck your card in the pocket and caught the waiter pretty quickly. It was getting late and you were tired. Even your step-brothers were getting quiet so you hoped to get home quickly.

The waiter returned and you wrote out a tip, sticking your card back in your wallet and purse. You stretched as you stood up, your step brothers taking their time to get to their feet. You headed over towards Jensen when the sound of glass shattering caught your attention. You turned your head and heard tires screeching outside, spotting that the window at the front of the restaurant was gone now. You barely saw the cop car driving by before you heard sharp little noises in the air and felt like you got hit by a truck.

Suddenly you were on the ground, Jensen on top of you. Nick and Michael were ducked down under the table along with most everyone in the restaurant, some people at the bar hopping over the counter and diving behind the back. The whole place was silent and you all heard the front door to the place open abruptly. Jensen stood up in one smooth motion, his gun out and aimed, a shot ringing out a second later as someone yelled. A few seconds later there was a loud echo of feet, Jensen setting his gun on the ground and holding up his hands. Police filled in the place, two very angry looking officers rushing over to him and barking orders.

“It’s okay,” said Jensen to you as he knelt down.

Less than five minutes later he was released and some hostess was thanking him over and over still for stopping the guy that had come in looking for trouble. Jensen shrugged it off, only grazing the guy and the police pretty impressed with him for doing so.

“Are we free to go?” asked Jensen, an officer nodding. He waved for you and your step-brothers to follow, Jensen driving the four of you back to your place quickly. Nick and Michael took their rental car back to their hotel, neither one much in the mood to talk after what had happened.

Jensen checked that the house was secure before he went to his room and shut the door. You weren’t sure if he was okay or not. He seemed pretty calm but he had shot a guy, if only barely. Instead of heading to your bedroom, you wandered down the hall to his area of the house. There was a guest suite there he used for his bed and bathroom but he rarely used it unless he was going to bed and he always, always told you when he was turning in for the night.

As you were about to knock on the door you heard the faint sound of a shower and nodded. He was simply cleaning up. It didn’t sound like a bad idea to yourself honestly. You went down the hall to your room, flipping on the light. It was a soft white in there, the wall behind the bed a shiplap that led up to wood beams going across the vaulted ceiling. Another light was flipped on in the bathroom and you stepped under the shower for a few minutes, washing off your face and skin. After five minutes you went out to the bedroom and over to the closet, finding a pajama shirt and shorts to slip into. Your hair was thrown up in a messy bun and you found your oversized fleece hoodie you occasionally slept in. Tucking it under your arm, you headed out of the room and back down the hall, Jensen’s door still shut.

“Jensen?” you said, knocking on the door lightly. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” he said. Carefully you pushed the door open, Jensen walking out of his bathroom in just his boxer briefs, wiping a towel over his head. He tugged it down and stared at you, your eyes going to his chest, legs and everywhere in between.

“I uh, wanted to make sure you were alright,” you said, ripping your eyes away and meeting his gaze. He nodded and tossed his towel back into the laundry basket by the closet.

“I’m fine. You?”

“Yeah. I uh-”

“No need to be nervous around me,” he said.

“Right,” you said, Jensen walking right in front of you before stopping. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and to say thanks.”

“It’s my job,” he said.

“Still,” you said. “I...here. I thought you might like this.”

“A hoodie?” he asked as you handed him the fleece. “What’s this for?”

“S’my bad day hoodie. I wear it to bed sometimes. Makes me feel better,” you said with a shrug.

“Old boyfriend’s?” he asked as he pulled it on, a soft smile spreading across his cheeks. “It’s so soft. Thanks, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome,” you said.

“So was it the boyfriends? Or you get it for yourself?” he asked.

“It was a birthday present for my dad. He died the week before. I never got to give it to him.”

“I shouldn’t be wearing this,” he said, moving to take it off when you caught his wrists. He was so much stronger than you but he let you manhandle him and move his hands back to his sides.

“It fits you better than it ever did me. Besides, I think you’re a little on edge and not telling me which is fine. It’s good for that,” you said. “I want you to keep it.”

“Y/N, I can’t keep something like this,” he said. You stared at him, Jensen swallowing. “It’s important to you.”

“Yes. But you gave me your blanket and wouldn’t let me return it. Fair is fair,” you said.

“Y/N-”

“S’an order, Jensen. Keep it.”

“Yes mam,” he said quietly.

“I hate when you call me that,” you said, moving your hands away from him.

“I know you do,” he said, a quick smirk crossing his face. “Why aren’t you using this yourself tonight?”

“I got my blanket. I’m good,” you said.

“It doesn’t explain why you’re giving me this though.”

“Lately, something else has been making me feel better and safe. My dad would have liked you.”

“Your father was a good person. A brave person,” said Jensen.

“You know how he died,” you said, Jensen returning a nod. “I used to be really angry at him. Why’d he have to go help that woman? He could have walked past and been alive. But since I got older, if I was that woman being attacked, I would pray for a man like that to come help me. I know he was good.”

“I will do my very best to be that man for you,” he said.

“I know you will. If you need something, come get me,” you said.

“Y/N,” he said just as you spun around. “May I have the morning off? You will be with family and my sister is in town for the day for work. I’d like to get lunch with her if I could.”

“Take the day,” you said with a smile, looking back over your shoulder. “She can come to dinner if you like.”

“She’s got a flight back at five thirty,” he said. “Thanks though.”

“It’s no problem,” you said. “Goodnight, Jensen.”

“Goodnight,” he said. You pulled his door shut after yourself and went down to your own bedroom to get under the covers. You stared up at the ceiling, hearing a light pitter patter on the rooftop. Rain was so rare in LA that you normally welcomed it when it came around. It reminded you of back home in a way.

A text popped up on your phone just as you were closing your eyes. It was from Gen and was a link to some news article about the restaurant, a picture of you and Jensen front and center.

You wrote back you were fine and turned off your phone, knowing you’d have to deal with questions in the morning.

________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

342 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 3 years

Note

I agree with everything you said in the last post but especially the Damian part.

Like I don’t know why people treat it like Dick had to choose between two toys and he chose the shinier model. He was in a situation where a 9/10 year old child was going to go back to a murder cult if he didn’t find a quick way to sure he stayed. And no option was good if Damian left. It was either Ra is going to steal his body or would become a powerful supervillain who would resent the whole family and between that is a whole lot of child abuse. It not like Dick had all the time in the world to figure out a different way for Damian to stay he had maybe like a day.

Also we never actually got to see Dick’s view on the situation only Tim’s because the only time we got to see that conversation was in Red Robin ( which might be wrong but I’m pretty sure I’m right). Tim was having a slight mental breakdown so maybe not the best narrator.

Like, the ONE thing I'd love for people to keep more centered in the varying discourses about Dick, Tim, Robin and Red Robin, is that like.....

The writer himself had Tim and Dick reconcile and work together in the aftermath of Tim leaving because he was upset.

It really doesn't get mentioned enough IMO that at no point in the actual canon stories was Dick ever oblivious to Tim being hurt, uncaring of this, nor did the canon ever try to claim on Dick's behalf that he DIDN'T hurt Tim, y'know?

I talked earlier tonight about the importance of remembering that these are fictional characters who can not CHOOSE any actions for themselves, but rather are ruled entirely by what the writers choose FOR them.

And the thing is.....for all that Dick is often characterized in fanfics as being oblivious or uncaring to having hurt Tim, or say that he kicked Tim out of the house and the city, or that he called Tim crazy or that he chose Damian OVER Tim or all these other things.....

None of those things say anything about Dick or what kind of character he is, despite the fact that fanon and fics have made a huge deal OUT of running with the idea that THOSE acts in fact say a LOT about Dick's actual character or whatever.....

But like, the point is not just that none of those things say anything about Dick simply because they're not how the canon went....

JUST as important, IMO, is the fact that none of those things are even in the BALLPARK of saying anything about Dick's actual character.....

Because the actual canon was written the way it was for the sake of TIM'S story. It was never about trying to make Dick look good, the events played out the way they did because the writer INTENDED there to be conflict between the brothers about it! Dick didn't find some magical way of ensuring that he delivered the news to Tim in the absolute right way possible because he just didn't care enough about Tim's feelings to do so....Damian delivered the news to Tim in the absolute worst way possible BECAUSE the writer WANTED the chasm between Dick and Tim.

THE CONFLICT WAS THE STORY!

And just as importantly.....the same writer who caused the conflict also RESOLVED the conflict. In his own same stories. Tim and Dick may have never hashed over every single detail of Tim's issues with Dick, but there was CLEARLY a reconciliation. Tim showed his forgiveness, his understanding of why Dick had done what he'd done and the fact that he'd made his peace with it, in a variety of ways from telling Dick he still had his trust, joking with Dick in SPECIFIC ways that called back to personal in-jokes that they'd had since the 90s -

(and that in fact were originally written by the same writer....like, the Brady Bunch jokes are a SPECIFICALLY Fabian Nicieza thing, as in he's the only writer who has EVER had Dick and Tim having that particular in joke between them, and he established it when he first wrote Tim, when he and Dick were great during Tim's time as Robin in the 90s. Tim calling back to those jokes during Red Robin and specifically reinviting memories of some of his favorite moments with his brother HIMSELF, like was as clear a peace gesture as you can get, IMO.)

But point is....the conflict happened the way it did, because it was MEANT to happen. There was supposed to be conflict, so by that very token, Dick wasn't MEANT to find the perfect way to handle the Robin situation that made sure Tim didn't suffer any negative feelings about it.

The reason its lasted so long as discourse in fandom was that regardless of the fact that the writers and characters both showed a resolution to the conflict that was deliberately sown to BE a conflict in the first place....

Fans of Tim decided this resolution wasn't adequate enough.

And so the events of it have been tweaked endlessly, as has the fact that the brothers reconciled itself, in order to keep this conflict extended far beyond the parameters or duration of the ACTUAL canon conflict its based on....with Dick further exaggerated into this uncaring instigator because the conflict FANS wanted was one in which Tim was Dick's victim in a way that he was never intended to be by the initial source conflict, which wanted BOTH characters to be somewhat sympathetic but now turned into a one-sided thing where only ONE character is 'deserving' of sympathy.....

But the problem is....that wasn't the story. And this wouldn't BE a problem, due to it being fanfic and fanfic being innately transformative, if not for the fact that people keep trying to point to canon actions as the proof of conclusions they're drawing about Dick's actions in the FANON conflict.....when the only thing the canon actions are meant to serve as the foundation for, is the conflict which ACTUALLY happened AND was resolved in canon!

And the thing is, a lot of fandom have done a lot to compare this situation to Dick losing Robin in the first place, but without actually leaning into that comparison in order to examine how Dick truly felt about that then, and ACTUALLY make it the comparison they're raising it as.....

(people can't claim that they've done this if they themselves are calling the situations parallel and yet clearly holding Tim and his feelings as innately more sympathetic and deserving of understanding than they're willing to even retroactively apply to Dick in the very situation they themselves have invited comparisons to....like if you're STILL calling for Dick's head for what he did with Robin here in a way that you're not having any characters anywhere, even just in reference or passing say that Bruce deserves being chewed out for to similar degrees.....your comparison is rigged from the start, it just is)....

But ultimately at the end of the day, there IS an answer for why Dick wasn't more careful and studious in his handling of the Robin situation....and that answer, for better or worse, is that he wasn't MEANT to be. The handling exists the way it played out, because it was meant to engender a specific conflict, one that was then resolved to the satisfaction of the story's writer.

If that wasn't to the satisfaction of fans, that's understandable! No story ever satisfies all fans!

But the problem is, the transformative nature of fanfic cuts two ways. And this is what people so often conveniently overlook when they cite that you can do anything with fanfic and that its subject to everyone's personal wants and agenda.

Like this is all perfectly true. But what people CAN'T do, is forbid others from drawing conclusions based on what decisions you do and don't make with fanfic.

And the problem with the Red Robin discourse, is we have a conflict that was engineered from the start, and negatively impacted a particular character aka Tim.

And the resolution the canon offered didn't satisfy the itch a lot of Tim's fans had for that particular conflict.

But the thing is.....there's two entirely different ways to tweak a conflict with fanfic.

You can make it BETTER.

Or you can make it WORSE.

And nine out of ten times - with this being especially obvious when you keep in mind that the canon itself DID CREATE RESOLUTION TO ITS OWN CONFLICT - its very apparent that a lot of fans just were not interested in making the resolution of this conflict even BETTER than what we got in the canon.

See, because the reason it happened in canon at all was NOT in fact because Dick was just as uncaring and neglectful as FANON of this conflict makes him out to be....since the reason it happened that way at all was ONLY because the writer needed it to happen in SOME way that sowed conflict between Tim and Dick and sparked Tim's solo journey of self-discovery.....

The only real way to BETTER resolve the conflict of the Robin mantle transition...

Would be for Dick to specifically approach Tim in such a way as to take his feelings about the matter into account and make his argument for why he felt Damian needed this now.

And that's something that's ABSOLUTELY easy to do, because the only reasons things DIDN'T happen that way in the first place, was circumstantial! Because the story was PLOTTED to have Damian spill the beans before Dick even had an opportunity to talk to Tim one on one. Changing a story's direction born of circumstance is one of the easiest things to do with fanfic since all you have to do is write different circumstances! Nobody's character even needs addressing there, because no character is inherently flawed for that story happening the way it did....that's why the story WORKED, in canon! Dick just circumstantially wasn't given even an OPPORTUNITY to be as conscientious about the matter as we would have liked him to be.

Easy, EASY fix with fanfic.

But that's not what fanfic tends to do with this particular story point, is it?

Instead, we get constant worsenings of Dick's motivations, Dick's choices, Dick's reaction to Tim's response, etc, etc.

The slant is entirely one-sided, aimed at making Tim not just more sympathetic, but Dick LESS sympathetic. Making it a nuance-free example of not even two brothers fighting in the face of their mutual grief, but one being VICTIMIZED by the other's willful ignorance of their feelings and loss, while simultaneously demonstrating none of the same himself.

And that's a choice that tons of fanfic writers have made, and they GET to make that choice, but what doesn't get to happen is making everyone else pretend that this was the only way the story COULD have gone, the TRUE resolution it deserved and the thing that ACTUALLY said something indicative of Dick's character.....

When not only were there these other opportunities to resolve the conflict in ways better for BOTH characters....the resolution of the actual conflict is considered irrelevant even though creating a conflict that could be resolved in story was the ONLY reason for the characters making the specific choices they made in the first place!

The discourse is literally all just born of people using the slight against Tim's character as an excuse to make Dick's character look worse. IMO to distract from the fact that this happened at all, because the real gripe was with Tim not being Robin anymore but there was no way to unilaterally decry that WITHOUT making the case that Damian should never have been Robin, and most fans I think recognize that would have been a nonstarter, discourse wise. There’s no rolling the clock back on a new Robin EXISTING, that’s been proven conclusively in the past. Once a character has been a Robin, you can’t argue away their right to ever be one period. If it couldn’t happen with Steph, despite the shortness of her Robin tenure and the smaller size of the girls’ fanbases relative the various Batboys (and let’s not pretend a disparity doesn’t exist there), then it wasn’t going to happen with Damian. So fans made their displeasure known in another way - venting it on the character that precipitated the changing of this particular guard.

And the thing is, ultimately, for all the comparisons made to the Bruce and Dick Robin debacle, they all fall short of being valid given two fundamental differences:

1) Canon has one hundred percent refused to ever fully address the conflict Bruce created in story when he fired Dick or just gave Robin away to Jason, with the only time its ever really been addressed in the comics being when Dick came to confront Bruce about it and Bruce made no form of actual apology or recourse, but instead ultimately just yelled at Dick about missing him and then told him to go. Which umm. Yeah. Oh, the resolution of it all.

2) The other key difference being that while there are certainly fans who have used these story points simply TO make Bruce look worse, the same as I'd argued happened with Dick in the Red Robin scenario.....it is still undeniable that there are a sizable number of fans such as myself who have always insisted we only raise this particular story element because we WANT to see better or actual resolution of the conflict raised in story - aka Bruce firing Dick or just giving away Robin - AS WELL AS being very clear on a perfectly easy way TO showcase better resolution: just having Bruce fucking OWN HIS ACTIONS AND APOLOGIZE FOR THEM.

So even with the awareness that while ultimately both Robin turnovers only happened because the writers chose that conflict happen, they remain incomparable in my mind purely because only one of them was ACTUALLY resolved or treated as resolved in canon, and like.....the other one is the only one that actually has fans continuously making the point of what story actions can actually be taken in meta, headcanons and fics, TO create the resolution we want.....whereas the other conflict will never be resolved any better than it is in canon, because the people who keep raising the conflict don't even want to acknowledge that it even WAS resolved in canon at all, because that would defeat the entire purpose of continuously worsening the conflict specifically TO create reasons for a continued grudge against Dick's character.

And you flat out just can't ever resolve a conflict that people ultimately WANT to exist.

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angel-emmerson · 4 years

Text

Blue World | Part 1

violence tw, arrest tw, abuse mention tw

As Angel eased onto the highway it occurred to him that he probably should have asked someone to come with him. At least someone who could keep him calm and distracted but he hadn’t wanted to drag anyone else into this mess. At least he had talked about it to a few people, it wasn’t as if it was a total secret but he hadn’t wanted to make it a bigger deal than it was. He still wasn’t certain that this woman was who she said she was. For all he knew this could have been a big hoax and he honestly wasn’t sure which one was worse. After the night at Leslie’s, he knew he had to do something to squash it though he knew part of him should ignore it, he had too many questions to do that. So with Alvaro’s help he had gotten an address and after a restless night he made his way to Portland, blasting the stereo along the way in order to ease his nerves. He sang along with every song, feeling like the lyrics were getting at all of the parts of himself that had been unearthed as a result of the letters. His fear had been uncovered, his abandonment, his tendency to feel worthless as he had in those early years. Of course he was at a different place now, it was easier to talk himself down but it didn’t quiet his mind, didn’t help him find the peace he had kept for so long. He felt like he was failing himself, like every breathing technique, every yoga session, every moment he spent putting in the work felt like it was being undone with the opening of a piece of paper. But he had learned a long time ago that life would just never be the way he assumed it to be. Every damn day was a surprise and this was no different. So he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, getting lost in the music as the wind whipped through the windows of his truck.

He arrived a little after noon, easing onto the block as his nerves started to rise again. For a moment he thought about calling his moms, spilling his guts, asking them for guidance. He had always trusted their opinion over anyone else’s but this time he was more worried about them than he was himself. His mother’s had always been confident in who they were as his parents but he also watched as they worried over his younger siblings, questioning themselves in secret. He had been there to reassure them and help them, make sure they knew that they were doing an amazing job. That eventually they’d turn out feeling better adjusted like he did. And he didn’t want that seed of doubt to come back to life in them. He knew they would be angry, but he also knew they would support him if he wanted some kind of relationship and he couldn’t bare seeing them trying to mediate when all they wanted to do was lose their minds. Maybe it was the night with Leslie or the look of anger on Brady’s face but he knew he couldn’t let this go on longer than it needed to and he felt like there was only way for him to know peace.

Angel swallowed thickly as he parked the car one house down from the actual address, taking deep breaths as he turned it off. All of the things that had gone through his head and he still hadn’t settled on what he’d say when he finally saw them, when he looked them in the eyes and saw someone who looked similar to him staring back. “You got this, Emmerson.” He took one more deep breath and got out of the car, making sure to lock it as he made careful steps towards the house. He felt the urge to turn around but kept moving. But before he could get up the front step, the door opened and out walked two women with a stroller, chatting away with each other until they saw Angel standing there. It only took him a second to look at them to realize they were his biological mother and sister, that the baby in that stroller was likely his biological niece.

Before he could find his words, the older woman said his name, her expression almost as if she had seen a ghost, almost as if she hadn’t sent that letter herself. He stayed where he was as he looked at them, not sure he knew what he could say to them. But finally he stood taller and spoke, taking a few steps closer. “Why could you just leave me alone, huh? You gave me up so why now? Why now?”

Marissa stepped forward, looking more annoyed than endeared even though her mother was still stunned. “Look we don’t want any trouble okay. We sent the letters cause we need help if you dont’ want to help your parents thats on you. You didn’t have to come here to say no.”

“My parents?” Angel let out a loud, sarcastic laugh. “Nah listen you were way out of line sending that shit, alright? You dont’ know me and you had not right to fucking bother me with that shit. How can you stand there and act all high and mighty? They didn’t give you up so what the fuck do you care?”

Before Marissa could respond, her mother stepped in and stepped forward, her expression softened as she moved towards Angel. “Mijo, you have no idea, no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you.” She reached up to touch his face and Angel instantly jumped back like he had been burned. “Are you kidding me? You’ve had 32 years to see me and you pick now of all times? I don’t know know what kind of con you’re playing lady but I’m not you hijo, alright?” The raising of his voice and the way he pushed away from her caused Marissa to come forward, already scolding him as if he were in the wrong.

But before he could open his mouth this time, the door opened up once again and out walked a man who he could only presume was his father, leaning heavily on a cane as he made his way out. The moment their eyes met Angel knew that he knew and he hated that despite never meeting that there was still some kind of recognition. But he knew that what they recognized in him was a mistake, a moment of the past they probably beat themselves up over but never did anything about. “You all had no right to bother me and write me, alright? You got problems, they’re not mine. You forgot about me or did you erase that from your memory? Who’s idea was it anyway, huh? Yours? Or was it yours?” He pointed at Marissa first before pointing back at his father, moving around the women to walk towards him. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for you? I don’t even know who the fuck you are!”

Angel could feel himself losing his cool, that long rested rage surging underneath him and he had to clench his fist to steady himself. His father was quiet as he looked at him and glanced back at Marissa and his wife. “I had no idea they would get in contact with you. I had no idea. But you’re here now, Angelito. You’re here now and that’s what matters. I never thought in my wildest dreams I’d ever live to see you again. Please, come in, please. Is it not obvious? God sent you back to us.”

Angel’s eyes widened, his rage only subsiding for a second, feeling like this was some kind of trap. “God didn’t do shit but put me where I belong. You think God is sending me to offer you forgiveness? Just because you left me on the steps of a church?! You’re out of your damn mind, old man!” Just as he was starting to yell again, one more person came out of the house and the sight of him made Angel stumbled back. He wasn’t a long lost twin but he was definitely his brother and the longer he looked at him, Angel could estimate that he couldn’t have been more than a year or two younger than him.

“Pop, what’s going on? Who the fuck is this?”

“Adolfo, this is Angel, your brother.”

Angel held up his hands and started to back away. “Oh hell nah, nah nah I’m not your fucking brother. What kind of Telemundo shit is this? You had a whole ass family and kicked me to the curb? You never came to look for me? You just fucking gave up! What did I do, huh? D-did I cry too much? Was I a fucking terrible baby? How could you do that? How could you? You’re..fucking monsters!” He was sure his face was red and he could feel every bone in his body tensing as Adolfo came towards him telling him to calm down. “Calm down? How old are you motherfucker, tell me! How old are you?”

The minute Adolfo uttered the number 30 Angel saw red and he lunged towards his biological brother, his own fists coming up as his biological brother managed to land a punch on his eye. Still, Angel got his bearings and started swinging, ignoring the sound of Marissa screaming or the baby crying, he swung his elbow back when his father tried to stop him, his eye already bleeding as he fought with all the rage he could find in him. He felt like his heart was being torn apart as he processed all of this information in such a short amount of time. But the sight of Adolfo had set him off and the anger that had built up from the moment he knew enough to be angry was pouring out of him. “You have no idea what they did to me! You have no idea what you did to me! You put me in that hell hole. You put me there and you left me for dead!” His heart was racing as he recalled those years in foster care, the ways he had learned the hard way that people with power would abuse it. He still had scars on his body to prove it, still had years of feeling shitty about his body and his sexuality, years of working through all the shit in his mind that built up because of their poor and careless decisions.

He didn’t stop when he heard the sirens, didn’t stop when he heard them telling him to back off. He only stopped when he finally felt their arms around him and he stopped fighting. It wasn’t until they pulled his arms behind his back to cuff him and pressed his face against the hood of the car that he really assessed the damage in front of him. Adolfo cradling his face and groaning, his father struggling to grab his cane, Marissa and her mother crying. It should have made him feel ashamed, should have made him feel sad but it only made him feel dignified, like he had finally caused them just a sliver of the pain they had caused him. He could feel his eye swelling and his lip bleeding but for the first time in a long time he felt free. Truly free. From the burden, from the questions, from the pain. Because he knew now, that he had never meant anything and now he could let it go. Now they could mean nothing too.

“I have a family,” he yelled out as they pulled him up and he spit blood out of his mouth. “I have a family and you can’t hold a fucking candle to them! Fuck you!” It was the last thing he said before they pushed him into the back of cruiser, his heart rate finally settling as the car took off. He gave them a glance out the window, closing his eyes as they finally turned down the street.

As the car took off towards the jail, the was only one thing really on his mind: Fuck, now I have to tell my moms.

#sp #self para #blue world #blue world: part 1 #violence tw #arrest tw #?#abuse mention tw

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

Text

Blame It On Bad Luck - Chapter 23

Things were silent between them again.

And it wasn’t for lack of trying. It wasn’t entirely intentional. Not really. Lauren wanted to give Camila her space which, as it turned out, was super convenient since she was in the hospital and Camila—as far as she knew—was still staying at Dinah’s.

It wasn’t exactly what she wanted but she didn’t really want to be in the hospital in the first place not even knowing what her relationship with her roommate even was but…whatever. It was better than any other alternative she was genuinely anticipating so she figured it was fine. Things could be worse.

And it wasn’t like Camila didn’t try to make an effort. Despite the war she was having with herself on whether or not she should even reach out again, all things considered, but there was a nagging feeling biting at her, reminding her that things were delicate.

If she remembered anything from the last time Lauren tried to get clean was that she was a vulnerable, breakable mess. And regardless of what she felt, she just wanted to make sure the girl was okay.

Well, she would have if Lauren was actually anywhere to be found when she went to go see her again. She could have sworn she was supposed to be in the hospital for a couple more days but when she went back to see how she was doing she was only met with an empty room and a million questions.

Or, one, actually. Where the fuck was she?

The conversation that followed with Ally was a simple one. It went something like this.

“Did I get Lauren’s room wrong or did they move her or something?”

“What? No, she left last night.”

“Left? Where did she go? I went back to our apartment last night to feed the cat and she wasn’t there.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She’s in rehab.”

She really didn’t mean to hang up on the girl, in all honesty. But she desperately needed a moment to just process what she had said.

Lauren was actually in rehab.

She didn’t know how long she would be there; neither did Ally apparently. And part of her worried for how much school she was missing, knowing how much the girl hated how far behind she had already fallen over the years. She didn’t blame her for wanting to be done with it as soon as possible.

But this was good. This was really good. Camila wasn’t completely confident that Lauren wouldn’t spiral further downward if it were even possible. She didn’t know if she was being honest; that she really, truly wanted to get her life back and actually be serious about it.

As much as she wanted to hate her roommate for lying to her again and for stealing from her she couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite everything, Lauren had changed so much since the day they first met. And before this whole mess she knew she could say, with full confidence, that Lauren was a good person.

She wasn’t sure how to go about things but she reckoned with Lauren gone for however long she would at least have some time to figure things out. And as long as she was there she would be getting help. She’d be staying out of trouble.

This was good for both of them.

It was a strange feeling, walking down the familiar streets after everything that had happened. Lauren didn’t know what to expect when she left her inpatient program a week later and was met with the daunting reality of being on her own again.

But she was sober and getting clean with the added help was making it somewhat easier to focus on what was important and what she needed to do. It wasn’t drastic or messy—not like what she was used to coming off of a bender—and for that she was thankful. It was the small silver lining of an otherwise horrible situation.

The physical withdrawal may not have been that bad but getting a clear head was going to take a lot of work, this she already knew. But at least last time, she thought, she had her brother to lean on. She had Camila by her side, ready to do anything she could to make sure she didn’t slip through the cracks.

But in that moment, walking down her street, she’d never felt more alone.

She sighed heavily, shoving her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants and pushed open the door only to be met instantly with the strong scent of beer and French fries. There weren’t too many people in Brady’s but there never was in the middle of the afternoon. She walked over to the bar where Shawn was wiping down the counter, looking up and smiling immediately at the sight of his friend.

“Holy shit,” he said, tossing the dish rag aside and walking around to greet the green eyed girl properly. She was surprised when he pulled her into a giant bear hug, looking excited as ever to see her. He took a step back and finally noticed the fading bruises. “Dude what the hell happened to you?”

“I’m really starting to hate that question,” she said halfheartedly, pulling out one of the barstools to take a seat. “I actually just got out of this treatment program. A lot happened; don’t really want to get too into it. I’m trying to just…put it all behind me.”

“Oh wow. That’s good. I’m glad to hear you’re okay though. When Ally came by looking for you I was worried.”

“You were?”

“Of course. I mean, you always forget to close your tab but I didn’t know you were in trouble. I should have come out to check on you; I knew you weren’t in a good place that night,” he said, mostly to himself, as he moved behind the bar.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. It was busy and you have a job—which is not babysitting me.” She sighed again and looked around the place. She loved Brady’s. She loved knowing that she was safe there. She loved that she had someone like Shawn who cared about her, who looked after her. “You’re a good friend, Shawn.”

He offered her a kind smile, one that she returned and it felt nice; she hadn’t actually smiled in a while. Shawn grabbed the dish rag he was using before and resumed wiping down the rest of the counter.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Uh…well, my card, before I forget again.”

“Right! Right sorry hang on,” he said before going to retrieve it for her. “Here you go, safe and sound.”

“Thanks,” she laughed quietly, and a little weakly. She signed the receipt, pushing it over to him. “I’m actually glad I forgot to get this back. Whoever the hell I was with took all the cash I had on me.”

“Ouch, seriously?”

“Yeah, it was only like…thirty something bucks but…still.”

“I’m sorry, Lauren. People can be really fucked up sometimes.”

“It’s fine. I’m no saint either. Can’t really say I didn’t have this coming,” she half joked, looking down at the bar instead of her friend. Shawn frowned, setting the rag down again and folding his arms over his chest.

“You’re not a bad person. Look, I may not know exactly what happened-”

“I don’t even know what happened.”

“That’s not the point,” he said firmly and leaned his arms against the back of the bar counter, urging her to actually look at him while he spoke. “I’ve known you the entire time you’ve been in college and you’ve drunkenly ranted to me almost every single one of your problems. I don’t just say you’re my favorite customer because you’re always in here. You’re a good person, Lauren; I care about you. And it’s not okay that someone did this to you, no matter what stupid, fucked up things you did in the past.”

She was quiet for a moment, staring up at the boy while she messed with the button on the sleeve of her denim jacket. She took in everything he said, recalling the first time she met him while he was bartending at Brady’s, how nice he was to her from the very beginning and how much she really did confide in him without even realizing it.

“You really think I’m a good person?”

“I like to think I have a pretty good judge of character. Sure, you’re not perfect. But nobody ever is.”

“Thanks, Shawn,” she said quietly, looking down again. “I’m glad I haven’t managed to push you away too. I really fucked up with my brother. And Camila too.”

“Well, I don’t know about your brother…but I’m sure you and Camila can work things out.”

“How could you possibly be sure of that?”

“Because she was in here a couple of days ago,” he told her simply, grabbing a couple of empty glasses on the bar to clean.

“Wait, she was here?”

“Yup. She was with a friend or something. Don’t remember her name; tall…blonde…kind of loud…”

“Blue eyes?” she asked hesitantly.

“Uhh…no. Brown.”

“Thank God,” she mumbled as Shawn turned back around. “Did she say something about me or…?”

“She said some things.”

“How informative.”

“She was just worried about you; that’s all. Nothing bad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. When her friend left she hung out for a bit and we got to talking. She’s a really nice girl. I can definitely see why you like her so much.”

“Well I think I managed to screw that up too.”

“Well why don’t you pull your head out of your ass and make it up to her?”

“You know…it’s a little annoying how often people say that to me,” she said in amusement, causing Shawn to laugh and he tossed his dish cloth at her. “Hey!”

“Well then pull your head out of your ass already!” he yelled before she threw it back at him. “Honestly, she’s more worried about you than she is mad at you. So you didn’t completely screw things up.”

“She really is too fucking nice, isn’t she?”

“Uh, yeah, from what I can tell. So stop being a dickhead.”

“Alright I get it!” she laughed, reach over the counter to smack him in the arm.

“It’s good to have you back in one piece, Lauren. And I’m glad you went and got help. I don’t know what I would do without my favorite customer.”

“You’d have customers that actually pay their tabs on time, for starters.”

“But where’s the fun in that? I live for the suspense.” She laughed and rolled her eyes, grateful for Shawn’s friendship and she actually felt at ease for the first time all week. She knew it was only the beginning and she had a long way to go before she could make everything right again.

But this was a start. It was a start from the very bottom. And she was just glad she hadn’t lost everyone on the way down.

“Shut up.”

She didn’t stay too long at Brady’s. Once more people started to show up as happy hour rolled around she decided it was a good time to head home, not wanting to be around such a big crowd—especially a drunk crowd.

But it was weird being home. Her apartment felt emptier than she’d anticipated and she felt impossibly alone again. She was at least comforted with the knowledge that there wasn’t anything left in there that would undo all of her progress, as little as it was.

But being alone, she realized, was almost just as bad.

Being stuck with her own thoughts was one of the furthest things on her list of things she wanted to do but she had no real way of avoiding it. And she knew that sooner or later she would have to face it and learn to deal with her mind when it kept going to a bad place, coming to finally realize her own worst enemy was herself.

She kept busy throughout the day, trying to catch up on as much school work as she could after much groveling with her professors for extensions on assignments and makeups for exams she missed. She knew as much as she needed to focus on herself, she couldn’t afford to put her education on the backburner anymore.

It was a lot easier said than done, she learned fairly quickly. The second her mind got a chance all her thoughts would creep back up on her with no warning; all thoughts of weakness and failure and disappointment, how she only hurt the people around her, how she was never good enough for her daughter, for her own parents, for her brother, for Camila. How she spent the last few years of her life wasting them on meaningless things and people that only ever made things worse.

She felt restless, like she needed to get up and keep moving around; doing random menial things to occupy her attention so she wouldn’t focus on her brain telling her that she couldn’t do this again, that she wasn’t enough for the people in her life. She’d feel her heart rate pick up and her breathing get heavier and she’d be overcome with sudden nausea and panic. It came and went in waves. And it was driving her insane.

She cleaned the whole apartment—meticulously, unnecessarily. She put things away, cleaned every surface, did the laundry, tidied up the bedroom, and spent an unbearably long amount of time staring at Camila’s side of it, and that sinking feeling would come back again.

It was sometime around evening and Lauren was busying herself once again in the kitchen. Time was moving so slowly. The day felt like a week and she couldn’t believe it was still only her first day out of rehab.

She turned off the heat on the stove and went into the living room, the first time she actually took a break since she got home and finally felt her body aching. She lifted up her shirt and glanced down at the discoloration still lingering on her stomach and thighs, touching it gently and sighing when it still hurt, praying it would just go away already. She didn’t need the constant reminder.

She reached for her sweatpants, folded up neatly on the arm of the couch, not wanting to see her bruises anymore. Just as she held them out to step into she heard the door of her apartment opening, startling her so much she nearly tripped and fell over.

Because only one other person had the key to the apartment.

“Lauren…” Camila said in surprise, her voice alone causing Lauren’s breath to hitch and her heart to beat faster. She almost completely forgot she wasn’t wearing any pants until Camila’s eyes drifted towards the gross, yellowing bruises blemishing her complexion. She tried not to notice the way she frowned, the way she tried to pretend that she didn’t see anything but it was clear as day, painfully so. “Oh my God.”

Lauren felt her cheeks redden, feeling self-conscious as she fumbled with the waistband of her sweatpants. Camila closed the door behind her and averted her eyes, sensing the other girl’s discomfort despite never being shy before about not wearing pants in front of her. It was such a drastic change from the first time they met in a similar fashion.

“Um…sorry, just…” she mumbled, flustered and clumsy with her words and her movements as she tugged her sweatpants on in haste. “Sorry…I um, didn’t think you’d be here.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured her. It was her apartment after all. And it wasn’t like she’d never seen the girl without pants on before. Hell, she’d seen her naked countless times before. But she understood her need to cover up and she couldn’t help but feel this sick feeling tugging in her stomach at the girl’s injuries, where they were and how they got there, who had done that to her.

A long silence fell between them and a million unanswered questions hung and lingered in the air, making it harder for either of them to breathe. Lauren didn’t know what to say, not having expected the brunette to show up and Camila didn’t think it was possible to form any sort of sentence directed at the green eyed girl without remembering those bruises.

“Uh…” she tried, clearing her throat and shifting on her feet when Lauren didn’t even look at her, just kept staring at the floor nervously. “I just…” As hard as she tried she couldn’t shake the thought. She couldn’t stop seeing the bruises and she blurted out, “Are you okay?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up, it’s just…seeing it…I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it,” she let out in a rush, not wanting Lauren to feel more uncomfortable, making her think about something she very obviously wanted to forget.

“No it’s okay, I um…I’m alright, I guess.”

“Are you?” She hated how her voice sounded, hated the fragility of it, hated how it cracked. She shut her eyes and sighed.

“Well I mean…as alright as I can be. I try not to think about it. When I do I just…start thinking too much. And then I kind of get lost in my own head and that’s never a good thing. But aside from…that…I’m okay. For the most part. My parents are happy I agreed to the treatment program.”

“Yeah? How was it?”

“Um…good, I think. I’m sober so I guess that’s all that matters, right?”

“That’s good.” She moved some of her hair behind her ear and looked at the raven haired girl a bit awkwardly. “Any word from your brother?” she asked before she could stop her curiosity. She didn’t want to think she was prying but she knew how upset she was. And her face confirmed it before she opened her mouth.

“No. He…still won’t talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, Lauren. I know how much he means to you. Just keep at it and give him some time; he’ll come around.”

“You really think so?”

“He loves you. Don’t give up.”

“I guess,” she mumbled. “Well, at least my parents are talking to me.”

“Are they letting you see Kayla?”

“Sort of. They still don’t trust me to come home but you know…baby steps, I guess. It’s good though. We’re working on it.”

“Good. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I just came by to feed Fatass again. I figured since you weren’t here and he would need food and water…” she said, taking a new bag of cat food out of the plastic bag she was carrying before finally glancing around the apartment, actually taking in her surroundings. “Wow…it’s really fucking clean in here.”

“Oh uh, yeah…I…I cleaned up…a bit.”

“A bit? I think this is the cleanest I’ve ever seen this place.”

“Yeah well, you know, I was….bored,” she lied, running her fingers through her messy hair. Camila watched her movements, eyed her curiously, and decided not to ask that time. She nodded instead and filled the cat’s bowl with food just as he came by, rubbing his head against her leg affectionately.

Things went quiet again as she put the bag away in one of the kitchen cabinets and neither girl knew what to say after that. It felt strange for both of them, being in the apartment at the same time again with the way things were between them. Camila sort of sensed Lauren’s hesitance, somewhat anticipated it even, and figured it would be best not to push it anymore.

“Um…I should probably-” she started to say but was surprised when she was cut off, Lauren finally looking up at her again.

“Camila wait.” She walked around the couch and the brunette watched as she went over to the table where her school work still was. “I’m actually glad you’re here.” She rummaged through some of the papers until she picked up an envelope and brought it over to her. Camila stared at it in confusion before looking back up at green eyes, hopeful and apologetic. “I, uh…well…here. This is for you.”

“What is this?” she asked, taking the envelope from her hands. She opened it and widened her eyes, finding a large amount of cash in it. She didn’t even bother counting how much was there but she could tell it was a few hundred. “Wow…Lauren, this is…”

“It’s for the guitar. I don’t know if that’s how much it was actually worth but it’s what I got for it. I know it’s not the same and I hate that I can’t get it back…or that I even took it in the first place. I want to make it up to you. And I figured…you know, it’s a good place to start,” she said nervously, and Camila noted it was a strange thing to see. Because Lauren was never shy or nervous.

But she was standing there awkwardly, like she half expected her to yell at her or not accept the money or the apology or tell her to leave her alone. She didn’t really see this coming and she was a bit at a loss for words.

“Please say something,” she pleaded in a quiet, still timid voice when Camila remained quiet. Just staring at the envelope and the money and then back at Lauren. “Or…or don’t. I mean, it’s okay if you’re still mad. And don’t worry about how I got that,” she added quickly. “The money, I mean. I promise…I’m good for it. I had to borrow most of it from my parents. But I told them I wasn’t looking for a handout and that I’d pay them back somehow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was going to try getting a job. I mean…I know I only got out today but I think it’s time I be a responsible adult. I can’t live off my parents’ money forever.”

“That’s good. Um…thank you…for this, really,” she told her, slipping the envelope into her bag. Normally she would feel uncomfortable accepting such a large amount of money but the fact of the matter was that Lauren did owe it to her. She just didn’t think she would actually pay her back. “I appreciate it.”

“No, you’re welcome, please it’s yours and it’s long overdue and…and I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice was gentle, almost like she was afraid of setting something off. She wasn’t sure where to go from there and neither did Lauren. But she figured it was a good start. She didn’t want to have any expectations when it came to Lauren. The last thing she needed or wanted was to get her hopes too high just to be let down again. “Well…I should head out.”

“Oh…okay,” she said, failing miserably at hiding her disappointment. Of course, she didn’t expect the girl to stick around. It was only her first night back; maybe she just wanted to give her space, some alone time to relax and just take it easy. Or maybe she was just trying to convince her that Camila didn’t actually want nothing to do with her.

“Goodnight, Lauren.”

And it was there again. The same feeling when she watched Camila leave her hospital room. The uncertainty that came with it; when would she see her again, when would she talk to her, would she ever bother at all?

“Camila,” she called out before she could even open the door. But unlike when they were in the hospital, she turned around and watched Lauren trying to figure out what to say. She waited—patient as always—and Lauren opened her mouth, felt the air leave her lungs the longer she stared at her. “Please stay.”

“Lauren…”

“I know things are weird between us but…I miss you…and…you live here,” she told her, her voice teetering on the verge of somewhere between pleading and hopeless. Camila remained silent and looked down at the floor, contemplating, until she heard Lauren speak up again. “This is your home.”

And it was those four words. It wasn’t something she thought she would hear, especially from Lauren. But from feeling completely unwelcome and unwanted in her own home to moving in with the green eyed girl only to be met with the same feeling, it unsettled her, made her feel lonelier than she ever thought she could, like she had no place to go.

Hearing Lauren refer to the apartment as theirs was one thing. She’d taken to saying it more recently the closer they got. But hearing her refer to it as her home was something else entirely.

“Okay.”

She said it quietly, so much that Lauren thought she might have misheard her or even imagined it. But she watched as she set her stuff down and take her shoes off. And it wasn’t much, but it was still like a weight off her shoulders. This had to be a good sign, right?

“I um…I made dinner, if you’re hungry,” she offered, walking over to the kitchen almost having forgotten the food she had made before Camila had come home.

“You did? That’s shocking…” she attempted to lighten the mood, which worked a little bit. But she could still tell Lauren was nervous. And she didn’t want her to be. They weren’t supposed to be nervous around each other.

“I mean…it’s just mac and cheese, since we don’t really have much. I need to go food shopping.”

“We can go tomorrow after I get out of work…if you’re not busy,” she offered casually, following her into the kitchen and grabbing a bowl for herself. She completely missed the momentary disbelief before Lauren shook it off, blinking at her dumbly.

“Um…yeah, yeah that’s fine. Sure. Okay.”

“Okay,” she laughed a little, finding it somewhat amusing how careful Lauren was being around her. She wasn’t used to it at all. But it wasn’t the worst thing in the world either, she figured. She grabbed a fork from the drawer before turning around, almost bumping into the cat that hadn’t even bothered to get up from where his food bowl was after finishing. “Speaking of work…you know, if you’re really serious about getting a job I can talk to my manager if you want. At the record store, I mean.”

“Wait…really?”

“Only if you’re serious though. I’m not going to vouch for you if you’re going to half ass it or like…tell customers you were kidnapped again or something.”

“I won’t,” she assured her, even laughed a little. And Camila was glad to hear the sound again.

“Good. He’s always complaining about needing help in the store but never actually does anything about it.”

“No, yeah, that’d be great. Really, thank you, Camz. I know you don’t have to do that…like, at all. But still…thanks.” She offered a smile which the brunette easily returned, nodding silently.

“Don’t mention it.” She grabbed a soda from the fridge before heading over to the living room and taking a seat on the couch. It was weird being home then, having Lauren in the apartment again, actually talking to her again, having her be so…nice. And…quiet. She took a bite of her food, bringing her knees up, before turning her head to find Lauren still standing in the kitchen. “Are you just going to stand there or you going to come sit with me, idiot?”

“Oh!” she said, snapping out of her trance. “Um, yeah, yeah of course.” She wanted to slap herself for how nervous and lame she was being. She wasn’t used to making a fucking fool out of herself in front of her roommate but still, she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she grabbed a bowl of food before walking over to join the brunette on the other side of the couch.

“For what it’s worth, Lauren,” Camila spoke up randomly, before turning Netflix on. She stared straight ahead but could see Lauren glance over at her through the corner of her eye. “I’m glad you went and got help. Not a lot of people can get right back into it after falling off or going through what you did.”

“Well you were right. And my parents were right. And Ally was right. I said I was going to make things better. I need to be better…for my family. And for myself. So I need to make some changes, right?”

“Right,” she smiled again, proud of the girl, despite herself.

The silence that fell between them that time was a comfortable one, for the most part. Camila felt a sort of sense of security being back in a place she could actually call her own and Lauren was still very reserved but at least content knowing Camila would stay.

Lauren was never one for wanting other people around. She had been alone for so long. But she had gotten so used to the other girl’s company she couldn’t deny that things felt weird and wrong with her gone.

And even though things were relatively quiet for the rest of the night, only the occasional light conversation every now and again, it was a start. It was good. And it was enough.

The hours passed as the two simply watched movies together all night until they both fell asleep there on the couch. Camila was the first to wake, not even bothering to check the time before shutting off the TV and getting up to stretch. She put the empty food bowls away in the kitchen and when she came back, Lauren was still curled up, sleeping peacefully on the other side.

Camila fought a smile as she reached for the black throw blanket on the back of the couch, pulling it over the green eyed girl who didn’t even move. And without really thinking about it she leaned over, brushed some of Lauren’s hair back, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Goodnight, Lauren,” she said quietly, the other girl still fast asleep, and headed off to bed.

* * * *

a fast update? my fans are #shook

thank you for the nice comments, they make me smile. i hope you’re all enjoying the story. I’ll try to update in a more timely fashion i know it can get annoying.

any comments questions concerns or complaints my twitter/tumblr is available (@ manhatanproject)

and as always, thanks 4 reading

-lex

#UPDATE #series #AU #slash #camren #angst drama #romance fluff #submission #Blame It On Bad Luck

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