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imagine-lcorp · 7 years

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A Step Into the Light (Part II)

A/N: Hi, guys, I hope you are liking this first work of mine ‘cause I don’t know what’s happening ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m just enjoining myself doing this. So... to make it a little more formal (and put myself into a spiral of self-destruction) I will try to post regularly wednesdays and saturdays! Today is an exeption since I already had this part finished :) but u can expect updates and new fics those days.

Also, please let me know your opinion about any writing I post, feedback is really important to keep improving and It would mean a lot to me. Thanks and enjoy!

It was also the moment Kara Danvers finally showed up to the gala. Lena spotted her first coming behind you. You turned around and took a little step aside from Lena to make room for her best friend.

"I'm so glad you came, Kara. Here, let me introduce you to (Y/N) (Y/L/N). (Mr/Ms) (Y/L/N) this is Kara Danvers." Lena said.

"Just (Y/N) is fine. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Danvers. Lena speaks very highly of you." You extended your hand to her but her expression was not as friendly as how it had been with Lena.

"Yeah, same." Kara took your hand and replied with a cold voice, and if Lena noticed it she didn't mention it at all.

"Oh, excuse me, I need to talk with my security chief. But please, enjoy the party." Lena said as if suddenly remembering there was still a thread upon the gala and left you both in a hurried pace.

Needless to say, you did not enjoy what happened once Lena went to attend her business. Kara crossed her arms, her jaw tensed and she was giving you a look of a thousand deaths. You only felt puzzled. You were sure Lena had talked with Kara about you but, so far, you had done nothing to instill apprehension.

"So, (Y/N)." Kara finally spoke. "Have you told Lena you are a century old being?"

"Well..." You stared at her with your mouth open for a moment before considering your next words. "That sure was mean for someone they call 'Sunny'."

"I can be when it's about protecting my friends." Kara squinted at your remark.

Then it hit you, the same metallic smell hidden in cheap perfume. It was the same scent in the hero you had watched, flying into the night sky minutes ago. It could be still be a coincidence but several lifetimes had taught you well. Coincidences don't exist.

"So you know what I am and went straight to the point? Then allow me the same courtesy Ms. Danvers. Have you told Lena you're a friend form utter space?” You said not even blinking, hoping your unconcerned tone concealed that bit of inner turmoil you were having at the moment.

"How did you-"

"We both have our secrets. But believe me; I have no interest on spilling them". You tried to remain composed. You knew something like this could happen, it always did. You just wished this confrontation was with Lena.

"What are you planning?” Kara didn't change her stand.

"Ms. Danvers, I don't know what you mean but if you're thinking I intend to hurt Lena, you're misguided."

"Why should I trust you? Your records say otherwise." You snapped at her, your eyebrow rising.

Kara Danvers was truly National City's best reporter if she had found them. You knew about the documents; some false certificates, photographs, diplomas and, specially, police reports... you honestly never meant to have many of those. It was a different world back then. When your involvement in someone's mysterious death was becoming plain you could just flee. Leaving behind a name people would forget, you thought. Though you had tried to change that in the past years.

"Then you don't know as much as you think." You took a glass from the passing trays and took a sip of the champagne.

"I'm telling her." She stated plainly.

"That I'm an old lady, two hundred years old by the way, or that you are from the Milky Way?" You said nonchalant.

"That you are dangerous."

"You are so right, Ms. Danvers, I can be dangerous when it's about protecting my friends." You took your own stand. "And sure you know tonight we have a common friend that could need our protection, so let me help."

She was distinctly taken aback. If she didn't thought you could be other thing than a hazard for humans her reaction may have been a surprise for you. She took a moment to think and look around, squinting at you one last time.

"Fine, but I'm keeping an extra sharp eye on you." She let her arms fall to her sides.

"Having multiple pairs of eyes is thing for you or is it your way of worrying about me?" You tried to relax a bit.

"People here could be in serious trouble without mentioning one of the guests sees them as appetizers. So yes, I worry." Kara adjusted her glasses.

"Oh, no, no, no. I don't like spoiled food." You said mockingly but Kara didn't seem to appreciate your tone. You sighted after. "I'm joking; I promise I won't be one more trouble. Now, are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Kara's expression was still wary but finally decided to give you some trust. I may have been useful to have someone else ready to step forward if things started to get chaotic. She told you as much as she could, keeping some details to herself. How she knew the gala was Cadmus target and who was involved. You listened to her every word, considering the possible outcomes of the night. It the thread was real, as she was sure, you would need a way to remain low profile and an escape route. After all, you couldn't risk revealing your true sanguinary nature to so many people. Or, even worst, being discovered and held by Cadmus or DEO agents for whatever experiments they may try on you.

As she finished explaining the situation, Lena came back. Kara and you made sure to disguise your discomfort for each other once she stood in front of you and tried to lighten the conversation. You used it as an opportunity to better know Kara, who was a ray of sunshine while talking to Lena and laser beam when doing small talk with you. You would never admit it to her but Kara was making you slightly nervous. So, instead of failing again at making conversation, you tried to distract yourself a bit by listening to the band.

Then you heard a song you knew well, a slow and gentle tune played in piano and guitar that reminded you the glamor of ballrooms you once attended.

"Come on, this one is ours." You took Lena's hand and lead her to the middle of the dance floor not minding the looks of the people around, not even Kara's death stare.

Lena giggled once again and followed you wordlessly in your dance. Kara was watching you with alert eyes, barely hiding her discontent. You took Lena's hand in your own and the other just above her waist, and tried to enjoy the dance. Lena did make a fair dancer, you noticed, as you twirled around, pacing and swaying along the music. Lena was laughing at every twirl and, when you leaned closer to her, you would note her cheeks a bit redder than usual. You hoped it that was a good sign. When the music stopped, you lingered a moment longer just holding her hands. She looked at you and then looked around as if realizing where she was.

"A penny for your thoughts, Lena." You took a step back to give her space, and were about to let go of her when she squeezed your hand.

"Sorry, (Y/N). I was just... thinking." She gave you an apologetic smile.

"Worrying about Cadmus? I'm sure Supergirl will do everything in her hands to save the night."

"Yes, but something feels wrong, it doesn't make sense for Lilian to send a thread."

"Lilian? As in your mother?" You stared at her, eyebrows rising. “So, she's behind all that. Well, if she's anything like you have told me I see why you're so worried."

"You were right; I should call it an early night." She shook her head.

"Wait, you said something was off?"

"According to what Supergirl told me, Cadmus will attack in the middle of the gala but why? If she wanted me dead or someone else here there is no need to make such a fuss. She doesn't work like that..."

"What if she's using this to keep you and Supergirl here? I mean, of course Lilian won't come so she may be-"

"Taking care of the real issue." She finished your sentence.

"What is it?"

"I need to get to my office." She let go of your hand and started walking towards the L-Corp building.

"Right behind you." You reached for her, not wanting her to make any rash decision about the matter.

"No, it's better if you stay here (Y/N)"

"Oh no, I'm not letting you go alone, Lena. “You took a step in front of her. "Whatever happens I'm not leaving you, remember?"

She took a moment to look at you, as if not believing you would follow her willingly. Then she looked around one more time, spotting Kara right when you had left her. A glint of worry in Lena's eyes gave her away. You turned around, almost impressed to see the same scene: Kara enjoying a full tray of popstickers. You wondered how many trays would take to fill a kryptonian stomach. But you understood Lena's concern for her best friend. It surprised you how she hadn't figured out Kara's other personality, but thinking about the reveal of it now bothered you.

Kara and you were not absolved from the lying and omission that came with those secrets. Sooner or later, you would have to come clean to Lena. It had happened to you before; revelations such as those could bring you closer or erase everything you had. Your biggest fear, however, was Lena's reaction. It pained you just thinking you could be the reason Lena could finally lost her faith in people.

"Talk to security again, I'm gonna check up on Kara and find us an excuse before she chokes on popstickers. Don't go without me." She nodded as you walked towards Kara.

#lena luthor imagine #lena luthor #a step into the light #lena x reader #lena luthor x reader #supergirl imagine #supergirl imagines #vamp!reader #vampire reader

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azems-familiar · 7 years

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of all the truths i could not tell ch 3

Search #myfic on my blog to find the other 2 chapters of this.

sooo this feels really awful and choppy and idk but i'd really appreciate some like opinions that it's maybe not??? and that it's long enough??? because it feels really short and err yeah so this is me apologizing in advance in case it really does suck also have i mentioned i'm making this up as i go along because yeah i am and this wasn't exactly supposed to happen but *shrugs*

also a friend from over on nanowrimo.org made a cover for this fic and it's beautiful and if someone could help me figure out how the fuck to get it to show up on here that'd be great

Chapter 3

Jyn steps off the ship, carefully, hesitantly, staying just behind Lyra, blinking in the sudden light. Yavin 4 is, apparently, a jungle planet; the U-wing has landed on an open space between two massive ziggurats, ancient stone accented with trailing greenery and faded carvings. Predictably, Lyra is entranced by the crumbling monstrosities; however, all Jyn can see when she looks at the ziggurats is the tactical (dis)advantage of building a base beneath the giant equivalent of an ‘X marks the spot’.

Of course, who knows how long the base has been here--she certainly doesn’t, at least--and the Empire hasn’t found the Alliance yet, so maybe it’s a decent location after all.

Cassian leads the two of them across the landing pad and into the hangar, and it seems as though he took her words about trust to heart, since he not only lets them walk behind him but also left his droid on the U-wing. Or maybe she’s overthinking things. But the apparent lack of concern about her and her mother is more than a bit unnerving. Everything is so… open, almost--Cassian didn’t even bother with an alias or ask them many questions. Nothing like the Partisans.

Saw would never have given out real names so casually, nor would he have let them see so much of the base. There would be bags over both Jyn and Lyra’s heads, their wrists in binders behind their backs, searched and disarmed and kept completely harmless until they were in the very center of the base. Jyn has escorted more than her fair share of men and women to the center of Saw’s stronghold. Some of whom ended up facing Bor Gullet.

(she doesn’t want to think about bor gullet right now)

Well, if the Alliance is going to be lax about security, she might as well take advantage of it. Quickening her steps, Jyn comes up alongside Cassian. “Where are we going?”

Cassian’s stride never falters, his face still and blank. “I’m taking you to Senator Mon Mothma. She and General Draven want to talk to you and your mother, to get a feel for the two of you. I'll then be asking you a few questions to determine what kind of training you'll need.”

Training. Jyn takes a breath, keeps her steps even and smooth, trying not to show any emotions on her face. Right. Liana Hallick would need training.

Liana Hallick had not spent five years among the Partisans.

Jyn wonders, idly, what the Rebellion would do with the wife and daughter of an Imperial scientist. After all, there's not really much that the two of them could do for the Rebellion, on principle; Lyra is a diplomat and a historian, with some knowledge of guerrilla warfare tactics from their time with Saw Gerrera, and the fierceness of a fighter when she has little other choice, and Jyn is a warrior, hardened and powerful and strong, with fire in her veins and steel in her bones and blood in her shattered glass smile. There's no doubt the Rebel Alliance could use them.

The only question is, would they?

Could the Rebels trust that Jyn and Lyra Erso wouldn't even ever dream of selling out the Rebellion to the Empire that stole their third member?

Jyn rather thinks not.

It's not necesarrily against the Rebels, the generals and senators and politicians who make up the core of the leadership of this ill-fated Rebellion against the all-powerful Empire; it's more like the idea that no matter how much Jyn and Lyra could bring to the table, there's always a chance that somehow, the Empire could use Galen Erso against them, to the downfall of the Alliance.

(hence why the aliases. lyra believes that the less they tell the rebellion, the better. even the senators like mon mothma, who would more than likely lean towards trusting the erso women, even they must not know. must not be allowed to know.)

Jyn lets a soft breath huff out between her lips and watched Cassian for a moment, then sighs and, shrugging internally, breaks the silence. "What kind of training?"

Cassian hesitates before answering. "Basic weapons training, hand-to-hand combat, simple tactics. The kind of things one needs to know to be a member of the Alliance. Depending on what you show aptitude in, you could be rerouted to a pilot--for flight training--or placed underneath an Intelligence officer to be assigned to that department. I would hazard a guess that neither of you are particularly political..."

Lyra snorts. "I consider myself to be a fairly decent diplomat, actually," she explains with a sarcastic laugh. "You'd be surprised at the things I can do. I really rather prefer talking over just blowing everyone up or shooting everyone. Violence is not always the best way to solve a problem."

"When the problem is as large as the Empire, Aurae, I don't feel like we have much of a choice," the Intelligence agent answers.

Lyra presses her lips together in a thin line, but doesn’t speak.

Cassian waits for a moment, then increases his pace ever-so-slightly, the blank mask back on his face; even his eyes are shadowed, hidden, and although Jyn prides herself on her ability to read people, she cannot find any emotion in his eyes. The face of a spy.

(and a good one, at that; surprising with how young he must be, only a couple years older than she is)

If Cassian notices her attempt, he shows no sign. (There’s no if about it; he’s too good not to notice. He just chooses not to react, for some reason she cannot fathom.) And then there’s no more time for conversation, because he holds up a hand to stop them in front of a door. There’s not much about the door to set it aside from all the other doors they’ve passed, but he steps forward with the same calm confidence he’s carried with him since Alderaan and knocks. There’s a second of silence, and then a voice calls out, “Enter,” just as calm and composed as Cassian himself, and then he opens the door and Jyn lays eyes on Mon Mothma for the first time.

(Later, the only thing she will remember from this first meeting is Mothma’s appearance; regal and calm and composed, everything her voice sounded like, a bastion of peaceful diplomacy in the storm-tossed sea of the Rebellion’s cold war. One of the things Jyn remembers is the look on Cassian’s face--deference and yet something more , something intangible, born of respect but mixed with something like disdain. Later, she’ll wonder if it’s related to the fact that Cassian is a spy; he’s seen the worst the Empire has to offer and more, has been through and done unimaginable horrors in the name of the cause, and yet while Mon Mothma is a strong leader she also still refuses to give up on a peaceful solution.

But that comes later. And right then, the only thing that matters is that they stay safe, uncompromised, they’ve survived the first investigation, the first test, but now comes the second, more thorough one, and if they fail this…)

(Later, she will also wonder if her own certainty about the coming war influenced her opinion of Mon Mothma in some way.)

“Welcome, Aurae and Liana Hallick, to the Rebel Alliance,” Mon Mothma says courteously. (Jyn has a feeling Mon Mothma always speaks courteously.) “My name is Senator Mon Mothma. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard many good things from General Draven about you; he’s assured me that the two of you will fit in quite well here, and I want to pass along those assurances. Unfortunately, he couldn’t be here today to meet you.”

There’s a small pause, wherein Jyn shifts uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny of both Mon Mothma and Cassian, and Lyra struggles to come up with an appropriate answer. “Thank you, Senator,” she finally decides on. “Liana and I are in your debt for making this transition possible. I know it’s not usually your custom to expose yourself like this…”

Mothma smiles, warm and welcoming. “Only because we don’t usually have people reaching out to us. In the cold war--for lack of a better term--that we’re in right now, it’s considered more prudent by most people to remain neutral.”

The datapad lying on the table in front of the senator chirps an alert, and a flicker of irritation crosses her perfectly schooled expression. She glances down at the datapad’s screen and purses her lips. “I was hoping to have a little more time to speak with you, but it appears I have other matters to attend to. Forgive me. Sergeant Andor, would you find them temporary quarters and then begin their evaluations?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Cassian-- Sergeant Cassian--responds with a crisp salute. Mothma acknowledges him with a quick nod, her eyes already drifting back to the datapad, and Cassian turns to Lyra and Jyn. “Ms. Hallick, Liana, if you would come with me, please…”

“Call me Aurae,” Lyra says back, then turns to follow him out the door. “Liana, are you coming?”

Jyn hesitates just inside the room, glancing back over her shoulder at the Senator, who is looking decidedly more upset with each passing second. As though she feels Jyn’s gaze, Mothma lifts her gaze from the datapad--

Their eyes meet.

There’s some strange, unspoken thing that flows between the two of them, in that moment; an acknowledgement, perhaps. (Of different views, of the futility of seeking peace, of the painful inevitability and hopelessness of war, and its cost)

And for a moment, Jyn almost begins to understand Mon Mothma.

Then Lyra calls out, “Liana?” and the moment shatters like spun glass, Mothma returning to her datapad as though nothing happened at all.

“Right behind you,” Jyn calls out, and leaves the room without looking back.

[=|=]

After what feels like days of questions (but is only three hours, according to the chrono on the wall), Cassian finally decides he’s gotten enough information from the two of them.

Jyn’s under no false pretenses--this was an interrogation, to see if they are worth the risk, to see if they’re who they pretend to be; she can only hope that his dismissal of them means they’ve passed. Not that his manner or tone could give her any clues. The entire time, he’s been cold and impersonal, asking questions with little regard for sentimentality or extraneous information, cutting to the quick, efficient and sharp.

She supposes that’s why he’s already an officer, at the tender young age of eighteen. (Or so she guesses; he looks around eighteen to her, and acts like it in rare moments--flashes of humor in his brown eyes when she cracks a joke raunchy enough to earn a reprimand from Lyra. There’s a hint of a smile flickering on his lips when she talks about her fierce desire to take down the Empire, and for some reason or another he doesn’t suppress the emotion in his eyes. Not that she can identify it, anyway. Everything about Cassian Andor is a mystery--not least, the reason why he runs around with that kriffing droid .)

“There you are, Cassian,” K-2 says, choosing that precise moment to shove his way inside the small room they’re in. “You have been gone for three hours and twenty-six minutes. This is an unreasonable amount of time. The ship needs repairs and I got wet and require an oil bath.”

“Hello to you too,” Jyn mutters under her breath, without thinking. She rolls her eyes at the droid’s antics, rising from the chair and stretching stiff muscles. “If we’re done here, are Mama and I free to leave?”

“Yes, of course,” Cassian answers quickly, following her example and standing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a ship to take care of, and a droid who can most certainly take care of himself,” he adds when K-2 levels a vicious glare at him. (How a droid without a ‘face’ can glare is beyond Jyn, but she’ll be damned if he doesn’t somehow manage to make it happen.)

Lyra nods as though this is completely reasonable. “Of course, Sergeant Andor.”

“Which way is the mess hall?” Jyn interjects, deciding to ask the important questions now. And, besides, she’s hungry.

Cassian raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment. “I’ll show you there myself,” he says after a moment of consideration. “My ship can wait a few more minutes.”

She hesitates, then nods. This will work, even if it’s not quite what she had in mind; she’s not entirely sure she’s ready to socialize with the man who was quite prepared to kill her the instant she acted suspicious. “Lead the way,” she says, then, unable to resist: “Does the droid have to come?”

K-2 straightens, stares at her with an air of affronted dignity (she still doesn’t quite know how he manages it). “I’ll have you know that I am used to going with Cassian wherever he goes,” he begins.

“K, leave it,” Cassian says with a sigh. “Go get your oil bath, alright? Then you can help me with the ship.”

K-2 makes a noise that somehow approximates a grumbling sigh before turning and clanking away. Jyn nearly makes a comment about stealth, but falls silent at the look Lyra gives her--a look that clearly says to stop antagonizing the man .

Reluctantly, she stops.

“Anyway, the mess hall?” Lyra asks, stepping around Jyn to walk towards the door. “I think both Jyn and I are ready for dinner. It’s been a long day.”

(a long day of sitting around doing nothing on a ship, she wants to retort. she doesn’t.)

(she thinks about it for a long time, though)

(possibly too long, by the look cassian gives her, as though he knows exactly what she’s thinking)

(and maybe he does. she still can’t read him)

Cassian nods. “Right, yes. This way.”

Jyn follows him down the hallway, almost painfully conscious of the stares of the soldiers they pass, and forces herself to walk with her head up and shoulders back. She will not let them intimidate her.

As though she hears the thought, Lyra turns and glances back over her shoulder, and when their eyes meet, she smiles.

[=|=]

The next few weeks are spent in endless rounds of training. Jyn only sees her mother at mealtimes and at night, and she sees Cassian even less often; maybe once or twice a week. Occasionally, he’s close enough to exchange a few words with; even though she doesn’t really like him, he’s one of the few people she knows at the base, and there’s something about him that almost dares her to find out everything she can about him. He seems to share that, at least, and she can only hope that she figures him out before he unearths her true identity.

(she’s beginning to like the rebellion. she really doesn’t want to leave it behind)

He disappears for a couple weeks, returns looking haggard and weary with K-2 quiet (for once) and almost dispirited at his side. A mission, she guesses, and one that didn’t go so well; or, maybe, success wasn’t as sweet or fulfilling as she’d thought it’d be. She could ask him, could go search the base during one of her breaks and corner him, but the thought has little appeal. She’s not even that curious. It’s just--

(what does it take to make that hard of a spy come home like that?)

Nothing.

It’s nothing.

(she doesn’t tell lyra about it, doesn’t want to see her mother’s eyes)

And then, nearly three months after arriving at Yavin 4, Cassian walks up to her one afternoon and says, “Come with me,” and the carefully constructed routine of the past weeks shatters.

[=|=]

“Where are we going?” Jyn asks, struggling to keep up with Cassian’s long strides. He glances over at her, alters his steps ever-so-slightly, matching them more to hers. “Cassian?”

(he never said she had to use his rank, and she does know his name, after all…)

“I have a mission,” he answers shortly, “and I’m allowed to take a few soldiers with me. I’ll need help. I’ve been keeping an eye on your training.”

And that, she thinks, might be the closest thing to a compliment she ever gets out of him.

“But where are we going ?” she persists in asking, giving him a meaningful look. “And what’s the point? What are we doing? I’m not ready to just leave--”

“I understand,” he responds. “Which is why I’m taking you to your room, first.” His voice drops. “I’ll give you more details when we’re someplace private. This is a confidential mission.”

Confidential. Right. “You’ll at least tell me what I need to pack, right?”

“You don’t need anything other than what you can carry on you.”

Jyn sighs, then nods. It’s not very specific, not at all, but at least she has a better idea of what to bring now. (Well, sort of. Not really.)

Lyra’s in their room when she steps inside, surprisingly. “Mama? What are you doing here?” she asks, frowning. “Shouldn’t you be out doing… whatever it is you do?”

(they don’t really talk about the daily routine too much. she’s not quite sure why )

“I heard you’ve been chosen for a mission,” Lyra answers, voice soft. “I wanted to come say goodbye. And to give you something.” She reaches up to her neck and unknots a plain cord, draws it out from beneath her shirt--a glimmering, roughly cut kyber crystal. “Trust the Force, Jyn, and everything will go as it should,” Lyra finishes, whispering Jyn’s real name almost inaudibly.

“You’re giving it to me?” Jyn feels her eyes widen with astonishment--the kyber crystal necklace had been a gift from Galen, and it was one of the only things Lyra still had to remember her husband by.

Lyra just smiles and nods, tying the cord around Jyn’s neck then stepping back. “You should get ready,” she says instead. “Wouldn’t want to keep your commanding officer waiting,” and there’s a tightness in her smile, a strain in her eyes, but she refuses to show it in her voice. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

Before Lyra can leave, Jyn takes a step forward and hugs her tightly, pressing her face into her mother’s shoulder, drawing courage and comfort from the familiar pair of arms around her. Then, slowly, reluctantly, she steps back, gives Lyra a smile and a nod and then goes over to her bed to get what she came for--a pair of clothes less distinctive than the Alliance uniform she currently wears, her collapsible batons, and her blaster. She changes while her mother leaves and then quickly wraps a scarf around her neck before returning to the hallway where Cassian awaits.

He doesn’t waste time asking her if she’s ready to leave or not, instead simply walking back down the corridor towards the hangar.

(a part of her notices that he keeps his strides short for her)

It’s not until they step inside his U-wing, however, that he speaks.

“Recently, Draven received some new intel from one of our informants. He asked me to verify the information. You and I will be travelling to an Imperial-controlled planet and spending a few days undercover in an attempt to, for lack of a better term, slice our way into the Imperial network in search of proof.”

At the mention of slicing, Jyn straightened. “I can help you out with that,” she says, only to be met by the smallest of smiles.

“I know you can,” Cassian answers, the smile flickering around the corners of his eyes and teasing his lips. “That’s why I asked you to come.”

“So,” she asks, slowly, hesitant, “where exactly are we going?”

“It’s your basic intelligence mission,” he says, evading the question. “I’ll evaluate your performance and see if maybe you’d fit in intelligence.”

“Cassian,” she says, staring into his eyes. “Where are we going?”

He swallows, takes a breath.

“Coruscant.”

#rebelcaptain #rogue one #cassian x jyn #cassian andor #jyn erso #lyra erso #k-2so #work in progress #stuff is finally happening #myfic

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queenzufufu · 6 years

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Youngsters (5/?)

Summary: For the kids at The Rooster teeth care home, life hasn’t always been easy. They’ve come from broken homes, broken families. They’ve escaped with broken bones and broken spirits. But at least now they have a second chance to be happy with a real family.

Well…that’s easier said than done when your family includes a hyperactive midget, an over eager wrestling fanatic and a boy who just can’t go a day without punching something…or someone.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 AO3

“If you can do school, you can do a nine to five.” - Jack

“So Amy was like - Geoff.”

“I’m listening.”

“Hmm, so Amy was all like…”

Okay, so that was a little white lie. Geoff wasn’t listening, hadn’t been for the past ten minutes. Tina was a great girl, really. Beautiful, popular… beautiful, like fucking hot. She was prime real estate in the senior year dating market. And she had chosen Geoff - not Will Ericsson or Colton Bowers, two guys who you might say were the most eligible to be interested - she had chosen Geoff. What could he say? He could be a charming motherfucker when he wanted to be.

But God damn the girl liked to talk. Non-stop, about everything that occurred in her life, not sparing one detail and repeating everything to make sure Geoff knew it was her brown, not red shoes she had been wearing when she took her dog to the grooming salon to get a little bow put on its dumb head.

Adorable, Geoff reminded himself. Rocket - the shit zoo or whatever it was - was adorable. With his beady black eyes, manicured claws and teeth that always went straight for Geoff’s ankles. Little fucker. It’s not like I’ve ever disrespected him or anything.

At the weekend Geoff had happily envisioned dropkicking the mutt over Tina’s garden fence but managed to talk himself out of it, deciding that it might not be a good early impression to make. And early it was in their…relationship?

Did this count as a proper relationship yet?

Eleven days. It had taken eleven days to bag himself a little lady friend. Nine if you only counted the school days but Geoff wasn’t. He knew just as much work had to be put in outside of school, if not more. A master of his trade if nothing else.

Finding a girlfriend in high school? It had never really been that difficult. Not for Geoff anyhow. He’d had various girlfriends since middle school. Hanging onto them - now that was the harder part. People were so fickle in high school, whereas Geoff usually got it into his head that this was “the one” after about a month.

Ryan called him a lovesick fool more often than Geoff felt was reasonable. What did that kid know anyway? It wasn’t like Ryan had ever had a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. The boy was far more interested in Geoff’s relationships than was healthy, taunting him and mocking him about the current one whenever he got the chance. Dick.

His old car shuddered as he changed gear - shivering like it also felt the cold from the Fall weather that had finally arrived the day before. Soft splashing water droplets hit the windshield as Geoff drove onwards. They were going to the movies - seeing some rom-com Tina wanted to see. Geoff seriously hoped it wasn’t as bad as the tagline made him believe. “True love has never been truer.” Fucking really?

“Dani came over and was all - Geoff.”

“Mmm.” Geoff put just enough emphasis on the sound to make it plausible, although he could begin to sense a hard stare burning through his skin. Nevertheless, Tina carried on talking. Geoff leaned forward in his seat as the rain fell harder, blurring out the road ahead. The skies were overhung with a blanket of grey, so much so that he could barely tell the difference between the sky and the clouds. It was strangely calming, watching the raindrops race down the window, briefly getting excited when he saw a puddle coming up. Even better if there was a douchebag from school next to it.

He briefly tuned back into what Tina was saying just in case she was addressing him directly. “And so she was all…”

Nope. Still safe.

Geoff squinted ahead, making out a shape moving in the distance next to the road, slowing down in case it decided to make a move across the street in the poor visibility.

“And I said to Amy - Geoff? Geoff, are you listening to me?”

He didn’t even reply that time, too interested in the shape, which he could now make out as a person. It was a boy walking alone in the rain - no coat, just a dark hoodie and jeans which were already soaked through. He looked in no hurry to get out of the bad weather and as they drew closer, Geoff immediately recognised him. “Lawrence?” he said to himself.

Lawrence and the other middle school kids should have been picked a long time ago by Barbara or Trevor. Unless the boy had detention again but either way, he was not supposed to be here, alone.

“Geoff!” Tina eventually snapped at his blatant dismissal of her enthralling tale. “Have you even listened to a word I’ve said?”

“Hey, sorry. But that’s one of the kids at my home,” Geoff murmured, not taking his eyes off the boy, worried he might blink and the figure would be lost to the watery haze the rain was kicking up.

Tina looked, and then turned back. “So?” she asked, clearly not at all concerned or caring.

“So, he’s not meant to be walking that way. He should’ve been picked up over an hour ago.” Geoff said while ideas rushed through his head on what was the best course of action. He could call one of the carers…

Next to him, Tina ruffled in her seat, like a disgruntled bird puffing up its feathers. “So, I still don’t get why that’s so important.”

She didn’t get it but Geoff wasn’t about to waste time to explain. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he said, tearing his gaze away from Lawrence to offer her a sincere apologetic smile. “But I can’t just leave him out here. I am the oldest so I kinda feel responsible. Maybe it’s better if we do this another time? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

He was met with complete and utter silence. That was new. Geoff gulped, unsure if this was a good or bad sign.

When she did talk, it was robotic. “Okay sure, whatever you want Geoff.” And before he knew it, she unbuckling her seat belt and opening the door before he’d fully stopped.

“Tina come on!” He cried out as he slammed his foot on the brake. His pleas had no effect as she stormed out into the rain, phone against her ear, no doubt calling one of her girlfriends to tell them what a shit head Geoff was. “Ah, shit.”

Whatever. I’ll make it up later.

With that over, he drove on until he was level with the boy, rolling down the window and calling out in a friendly, casual tone as if he were scared of startling the kid; even though he knew it would take a hell of a lot more to get a flinch out of him. “You off somewhere, Lawrence?”

As expected, for his part, the boy did a brilliant job of not looking surprised to see Geoff. Not stopping, he continued walking down the sidewalk, hands in jean pockets, head returning to the ground once he’d seen who had been calling him. Droplets of rain dropped down his sodden hair onto his forehead and face. His clothes and backpack were completely drenched and Geoff doubted any schoolwork or text books wouldn't be ruined - if the boy actually had any with him.

“Just wanted a walk,” Lawrence replied, voice not giving away anything, keeping his gaze ahead, neither speeding or slowing his walking pace. Mr. Cool, Calm and Collected. Easier to deal with than Mr. Angry, Enraged and Punch-You-Where-It-Hurts, Geoff figured.

“Uh huh,” Geoff nodded his head slowly, leaning over the passenger seat, his forearm against the door as he put on his hazard lights on to continue to match the walking pace. “Any idea where to?” he asked.

“Not really.” Lawrence shrugged deliberately, emphasising the movement and then pointing roughly in front of him. “That way.”

“Right.” Geoff knew where “that way” was headed if you walked for another fifteen minutes or so. Straight to the main bus terminal. Ah well, he’d suspected sooner or later something like this would happen - was almost surprised it had taken this long. Back in his day Geoff had been out of the door within forty-eight hours - had run away over five times during the first two weeks.

Geoff returned his stance to the wheel, tapping out a random beat on the casing. “Well, you don’t wanna go too far that way without a proper jacket on in this weather.”

Lawrence sniffed, shaking his head like a wet hound, leaving him no less wet. “I’m fine,” he replied slowly, insistent, not angry yet.

“Never said you weren’t.” A half smile swept across Geoff’s face - one that only appeared when he didn’t know how else to react. His eyes were sympathetic though. No matter how tough and unflappable Lawrence acted, Geoff couldn’t help but see him for what he was. An eleven year old kid - mature beyond his years but still…an eleven year old kid all the same.

Geoff had a certain soft spot for kids old beyond their years.

“C’mon,” he tapped the outside of the car door with his hand, uncaring about the rain plastering both him and the interior of his beloved car.

Lawrence ignored him, or at least acted like he was - still walking, one foot in front of the other like it was his mission and nobody was going to stand in his way.

��Listen,” Geoff tried again. “While you live under our roof, with me, I feel obligated to treat you like everybody else. And to everybody else, I would offer them a lift.” He paused and in that time Lawrence risked a glance his way, giving Geoff hope. “So how about I give you a lift over that way?” he asked again.

A few more paces and then Lawrence stopped, blinking beads of water off his dark lashes. Sniffing louder, he looked around - perhaps wondering how far he’d get if he ran - and then hesitantly opened the passenger door, jumping in before he could change his mind. Geoff shook his head as a splattering of water off the boy aimed straight at his face - that half of his car instantly becoming soaked too.

Geoff made a U-turn and began to drive home, turning on the radio quietly to a local station. “So…how was school?” he tried to make conversation.

“What do you care?” Lawrence threw it back, flicking through more stations, settling on one for ten seconds and then changing it.

Geoff grinned, not bothered by the rudeness in the tone like most would be. “Oh, I dunno. Call it nosy big brother syndrome.”

“You ain’t my brother,” Lawrence shot back again. “So mind your business.”

Geoff nodded, holding back his laughter. “Fair enough.” What the hell, eh? There’s something I just find amusing about how blatantly this kid does not give a fuck about me or my opinions.

Lawrence coughed, rolling down the window to spit out of it. Geoff was grateful he at least didn’t spit in the car. The boy messed about with his seat for a while, rolling back and forth, up and down, tipping it as far back as it would go before righting himself, his right leg beginning to bounce up and down tirelessly, knocking the glove box every time.

Not even those antics could draw a flinch of annoyance out of Geoff, no matter how purposefully aggravating Lawrence may or may not have been trying to be.

Geoff couldn’t explain it, couldn’t understand it. The fact of the matter was he just felt a connection to this kid. He remembered the day the boy had arrived, kicking and shouting and digging his heels into the ground, wild and angry.

At first he seemed typical of the delinquent children Geoff knew passed through the system; if a concentrated version.

He was small, scrappy, greeny-grey-eyed and dark-haired. His hands were closed fists most of the time.

A pretty usual story, Geoff had been told by Burnie, for he was the only one entrusted with further details about why a new kid was arriving. The long-term staff knew the teen’s lips would forever remain sealed, and it was often helpful if he knew a bit more information.

The kid had been put into care after his father, and only living relative, died of a heart attack when he was seven. He’d been adopted initially by a couple who already had a brood of foster children. They slipped through the cracks of the overburdened child welfare office, taking on kids for the money sent. Neglected, hungry, dirty, too many children were given to them and treated as cash registers for government funding.

They weren’t sent to school, rather learning occasional random lessons from the ‘parents’ – who barely spoke English and only spoke to their children in Spanish. The couple were exposed when one of their older children went to a neighbour begging for food for his brothers and sisters.

Sent back into the system when he was nine, Lawrence was already trouble. He was disobedient, angry. He’d come back from more than one family bruised, and more than one family claimed that he was impossible to deal with without using force. He’d been with both foster families and state homes. None of them could deal with him.

A childhood starved and neglected of any attention had kept in small – even though he was no longer the skinny and undernourished kid that had been picked up from his first foster home. At eleven he could have passed for eight – and Geoff suspected like a great many small, abused children, Lawrence overcompensated with anger and force. He suspected that because once upon a time – what felt like a lifetime ago as well as only yesterday – he had not been too dissimilar. Just a too small, angry kid.

His first meeting with the boy had been an interesting one as well. Geoff had wandered into Burnie’s office while the man had been talking to Lawrence. According to Burnie, though Lawrence had shown no interest and had been acting like he wasn’t listening to anything Burnie was telling him, he jumped up the moment Geoff walked in, yelling about how this was his time and he shouldn’t be interrupted. He had cursed in English, in Spanish, all to a very bemused and confused Geoff, who’d hastily made an exit when the boy picked up one of his discarded sneakers and threw it at him.

Yeah… it was fair to say Geoff had been intrigued by the kid from the start. His mood was so black so constantly that the sheer energy it must have taken to maintain it was a wonder. Lawrence never sulked when he could shout. Never sat in a mood when he could stomp about and cause havoc.

“So what was your plan?” Geoff tried a different angle for conversation - one he thought Lawrence might be more willing to talk about, plus he was kind of interested himself. “Beg a kindhearted stranger for money? Sneak in with the luggage? Pretend to be with someone else’s family and hope there’s a spare seat? Or just wing it?”

Lawrence glanced over at him and gave what could almost pass for a half smirk, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly, most possibly out of surprise from Geoff’s train of thought. Geoff suspected he was far more used to being berated rather than questioned about his misdemeanours.

“Don’t look so surprised, kid,” Geoff said, and Lawrence tilted his head in curiosity as Geoff took an exit off the main road that would take them to their neighborhood. “I did this a lot back in the day. Bit younger than you.”

“Don’t call me kid,” Lawrence said as he kicked his legs up, crossing his feet, bringing his hands up behind his head. He leaned back, head still tilted towards Geoff, in a perfectly relaxed fashion, but actually seeming interested in what the older boy had to say.

“Force of habit,” Geoff laughed. He stopped for a red light and used the opportunity to look Lawrence in the eye. What he saw there was… well, he wasn’t quite sure. But for once it didn’t seem like pure anger. He grabbed his water and took a sip while he thought about what to say. “You know I won’t stop you, from leaving I mean, if that’s what you really wanna do. Heck, it’s what I wanted to do, and it worked out, cause I ended up here, eventually. Although I did run away from here multiple times also.” He laughed again, one short bark of amusement for his past self. “It’s…it’s where I belong, cheesy as it sounds.”

As he moved the vehicle off Lawrence was still stretched out as if he were tanning on a deck chair at the beach and not soaking the interior of Geoff’s little car. A glint of something else was in his eyes however when Geoff briefly glanced over again. Confusion? Wariness? Perhaps a mixture of both.

Geoff hesitated, and then said, “Don’t run for the sake of running Lawrence, or you’ll end up running forever.”

A not so awkward silence settled on the two, Lawrence not complaining when Geoff reached over and turned the radio off. They weren’t far from home now, and the rain was easing off, pinches of sunlight breaking through the grey. For a while Geoff wondered if Lawrence was going to speak, could sense a certain energy around the young boy, and when Lawrence drew in a deep breath he half expected him to ask a question. But all Lawrence does is breathe out slowly, his breath turning into condensation on the window next to him.

Geoff’s phone vibrated. “It’s Barbara,” he said, peering at the screen. “What do you want me to say?” He thought to leave it up to Lawrence - Geoff could give them the full story later. “Oh and do me a favour,” he added before the boy could answer, gesturing to the phone.

Lawrence looked down. He sighed, but picked up the phone anyway, holding it up to Geoff’s ear. “Tell her…” he spoke for the first time since he’d got in, eyes narrowing. A few seconds, and then he murmured, “Tell her that…that she needs to buy me a new jacket.”

He’s smiling. And fucking hell if that wasn’t a surprise to Geoff, especially when he nods and the grin widens - a truly Cheshire cat grin if he’s ever seen one.

“Hey Barb,” he answers as Lawrence stretches to press the phone against his ear. “Yeah, don’t worry about that, he’s with me,” he told her before her worried babbling could get too carried away. “Nah don’t worry, I just gave him a lift cause it was raining and we kinda got distracted, sorry. We’re coming home now - not far.”

She’d hung up before Geoff had a chance to say more, probably running off to tell Burnie and Gus it was okay, they didn’t have to involve the police yet.

The rest of the drive passed quickly and before long Geoff was pulling into the circular driveway of Rooster Teeth, parking in his unofficial spot under his bedroom window and cutting the engine. The hard rain had eased into a light drizzle and a smattering of colors painted the sky in the form of a faint rainbow.

Geoff saw movement downstairs and assumed one of the kids or staff had rushed off to inform everybody they were home.

Lawrence was still sat in his seat and Geoff wasn’t sure if he was waiting for him to get out first or was unwilling to go inside and face whatever wrath was undoubtedly coming his way.

Unthinking, Geoff reached into his pocket, looking down at the boy. Lawrence met his eyes, something open and earnest there, so strange to see on his face, but then he was frowning as Geoff handed over three ten dollar bills.

“For you,” Geoff said. “Seeing as I forgot to tell Barbara to buy that jacket for you.”

“I don’t want none of your money.” Lawrence’s defences were immediately up as he replied before Geoff had even finished speaking, eyes darting around like he was expecting an ambush.

“Don’t worry, you’re not gonna be indebted to me or anything,” Geoff assured him. “Think of this as a late welcome gift, plus a little extra, so you don’t have to worry about stowing away on a bus if you do ever decide to take a trip outta town. You do what you need.”

Lawrence still looked like he didn’t trust him one bit and Geoff worried he’d made the wrong call, but he couldn’t exactly go back on it now. “You’re right, I wouldn’t just do this for anyone,” he admitted. “But you’re a smart kid and I trust the judgment of smart kids to do what’s best in the end.”

Lawrence wasn’t quite satisfied, Geoff could see it in his tense body language. The money stayed in his hand though, and after a few more moments of intense stares he was looking away and clenching his fist around the notes.

Geoff breathed out a sigh of relief, unable to not feel a bit flustered by all that. He laughed off any tension remaining, jerking his head towards Lawrence’s door. “Anyway, get the fuck outta here, motherfucker. You made me miss one date but I will never, ever, miss the one with my dinner.”

Lawrence briefly opened his mouth as well, but shut it tight again just as fast. A tiny smirk appeared in it’s place as he opened the door, jumped out and slammed it shut as he ran inside, leaving Geoff still sat in his car trying to figure out what that small interaction had just meant.

––––

“Shit!” Geoff cried out later that evening as the baseball catapulted back at him from the tree Geoff had launched it towards.

“Almost,” Jack said, catching the ball and throwing it himself. He missed also.

They’d been out there ten minutes - after the rain had finally let off completely - deciding to undertake the task of dislodging the football Adam had somehow managed to lodge in the old oak tree out the back.

Usually by this time Jack would be firmly holed up in his and Bruce’s room, playing Minecraft or watching some movie or Netflix show. Tonight though, he needed a change up. Bruce might later claim he was avoiding him, and that would be true. Bruce would be perfectly within his right to call him out on it.

Jack’s a quiet kid in general - far quieter in school than he was at home. Bruce had been good for him in that sense, managing to keep him in the loop with the sociable crowds like the social butterfly the older boy was. Maybe it was stupid of them to think nothing would change once Bruce upped and left for high school.

He wasn’t necessarily being bullied.

He was just… he wasn’t quite sure what was happening to him. Getting isolated?

It’s confusing. It’s upsetting. It isn’t worth bothering Bruce about.

He thinks, more than anything, that this is how things were supposed to go. He didn’t have a lot going for him. He was on the heavier side of the other kids, he wore glasses, he knew he could be extremely opinionated at times. He was most definitely a nerd.

He had a group that he regularly hung out with but too often Jack felt they were doing it out of obligation. Because he was Bruce’s brother and Bruce had left as one of the most popular kids in school. Because they were nice kids and pitied Jack and his well-meaning but awkward ways.

Then he told himself to man up and deal with it. That there were kids out there in far worse situations who actually feared for their lives going into school each day. That his situation is just one of those things; it’s just the way life goes.

That’s why he’s out here with Geoff, because the older boy has a way of making him feel better and putting things into perspective without even realising it. Geoff just seems so much more of a complete and rounded human than Jack, like he’s got all his shit figured out and nothing or nobody could change that.

“Saw you dropped Lawrence off earlier,” Jack mentioned, ducking as the ball ricocheted off the wall behind him.

“Yeah,” Geoff laughed as he almost slid on the wet grass trying to catch it. “Kid was thinking about running. I put some stuff into perspective for him.”

Perspective. Right. That’s what Jack knew Geoff was good for.

“The Great Geoff, to the rescue again,” he only half joked.

“That’s what they keep me around for,” Geoff said. There was a distant look in his eyes, blue reflecting unknown memories or emotions. “Hell, it’s a lot easier to pack up and go nowadays in this city than it was for me. Probably safer too if you think about it. Still surprised how lucky I got that none of the guys I hitchhiked with were child predators or murderers of something.”

Jack nodded, slowly. He was trying to imagine, as he had done many times, just what it would take to run away from your own family. Horrors he probably didn’t wan’t to imagine about too hard. “No, they were something far, far worse,” he replied. “They were from…Alabama!”

Geoff looked him up and down, unimpressed. “Asshole,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head. “Anyway, it wasn’t just Alabama. I made it across half the country before I got picked up.”

“Was that by the cop who stank of weed or the cop who actually smoked a joint in front of you?”

“The latter. How else d’you think I got away so easily?”

Jack shrugged. “You’re always going on about how freaking smart you were as a kid.” He lobbed the baseball at the tree once more. “Dang it!” So close. He peered at Geoff through the corner of his eye. “Thought evading a few cops would come easily,” he jested.

Geoff looked startled, then oddly flustered. “Yeah, not when you’re tired and hungry, it doesn’t,” he replied shortly.

Ouch, if that didn’t hit Jack where it hurt. He hung his head until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Geoff smiling gently at him, letting him know there were no hard feelings.

Jack still felt bad though. Sometimes it was so hard to tell with his foster siblings what sort of mood they were in. There were days when Geoff would have taken his harmless jibe for what it was, and retorted with a similar one. But there were also days when his siblings would be so caught up in the past and all that had happened to them, Jack would find himself dredging up further painful memories or experiences, entirely unintentional.

He supposed it was just another example of how he an outcast in that sense. Although Bruce was too, and Ryan, little Jeremy also. They’d loved their families with all their heart, but he didn’t see them making things awkward for everyone else. Jeremy could at times say stuff that wasn’t quite appropriate for the time or place but he had an excuse; he was only five years old.

Jack should have known better by now.

“Hey Michael,” Geoff’s greeting brought him out of his stupor. He looked across to see the eight year old marching outside in a dark blue raincoat and boots, hair extra curly from the earlier rain. He came with baseball bat in hand, obviously here to help with their pitiful attempts. “How’s it going, kiddo?” Geoff asked, fondling the brown mop playfully.

“School sucks,” Michael replied with characteristic bluntness.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Michael confirmed, handing the bat to Geoff. “My teacher hates me.”

Geoff shared an amused glance with Jack. “How’s that?” he asked.

Michael looked away. He dug his hands into his pockets, kicking up the ground beneath him. “He made me stand outside the whole afternoon,” he grumbled. “And then I had to apologise to the class for disrupting them even though I wan’t doing nothing!”

“So you disrupted the class by doing nothing?” Geoff repeated dryly. “That sounds very unlike you, Michael.”

“Yeah, spill,” Jack added, smiling a bit. Michael’s mannerisms and story telling often made even the dullest tale entertaining.

Michael stared down at the ground some more, then looked back up at the older two with something almost mocking in his eyes. “I might have got out of my seat at one point…”

“And…?” Jack raised his eyebrows.

“And crawled around on the floor to be like a spy,” Michael said, voice mischievous. “Like James Bond.”

Jack racked his brain to try and figure which Bond movie had the action hero crawling around in a elementary class.

Geoff, meanwhile, was already laughing, hard. “Under the tables and chairs of other students?” he asked.

Michael bit his lip - expression something wild, proud. “Yep.”

“C’mon Michael, it’s only the start of the year. You’ve got to pace yourself a little,” Geoff poked the little boy’s shoulder before crying out angrily as the ball he had just batted directly hit the football but only slightly dislodged it. “I swear I’m gonna kill Adam, like, actually murder his little ass.”

“Not my fault it’s so boring,” Michael defended.

“It’s school. It’s supposed to be boring,” Jack pointed out. “It teaches you how to be an adult and deal with boring jobs. You’ve gotta start treating school like a job. If you can do school, you can do a nine to five.”

That’s why Jack knew he had to get over whatever he was going through. If he had a mini breakdown each time he suspected someone was whispering behind his back, he was hardly going to cope in the real world.

“Yeah well I’m not gonna have a nine to five,” Michael began, fetching the ball again and getting ready to throw it to Geoff. “I’m gonna do something better. Just don’t know what yet. But better.” He sighs as Geoff misses again, stalking over and snatching the bat off the eldest, handing it to Jack.

“Now that, I can relate to,” Geoff agrees, only slightly miffed about his demotion to ball fetcher. “Least you’ve got another ten years before you have to decide what you’re gonna do with your life.”

“Aren’t you going to community college to become a…a tractor or whatever with builders?” Michael asked.

“Contractor - and no, I don’t know. That was just an idea. I’ve got a lot of fucking ideas these days,” Geoff said quietly.

Jack frowned. He thought Geoff had it all figured out also - knew where he was going and what he wanted. But the last he’d heard was that the older boy wanted to become a journalist, was aiming for a scholarship to get into the more prestigious city school.

Jack had thought that was a great idea. Geoff was good with all people and had way of getting them to open up. He was also witty with his words and knew how to tell a story. Was that just an idea too?

“You could work here,” Michael piped up, hopeful. “Then you wouldn’t ever have to leave!” He raised the baseball in the air and Jack nodded, readying his stance.

“Jesus, no. I love y’all but I gotta get out at some point,” Geoff instantly rebutted the idea. He whooped with joy as Jack’s shot finally knocked the football to the ground with a satisfying thunk. “C’mon! That’s what I’m talking about! Fucking A!” he yelled, high-fives all around.

After the celebrations, Michael pouted. “What’s wrong with here?”

Geoff huffed out a laugh. But he wrapped an arm around Michael’s neck and pulled him into his side. “You’ll understand someday when you’re ready to make your own way in the world,” he said as Michael wriggled and escaped, wildly grinning.

“Here he goes again,” Jack said. “Uncle Geoff with his words of wisdom.”

“I’m just saying…” Geoff said, gesturing at the home - the grounds, the building, Jack and Michael. “I can’t grow old here.”

“Umm no, you can’t, cause you get kicked out anyway once you’re eighteen,” Michael replied cheekily. He kicked at the ground some more, bringing up tufts of earth and grass. He sighed loudly, as if there was a question building up in him.

“Something other than school bothering you, kid?” Geoff took the initiative and asked before Michael said a word.

“No - yeah,” Michael continued after a moment. “I mean…maybe,” he admitted, tone turning serious.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Michael gazed up at Geoff and Jack saw the bright glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You got any idea about how to help Gav?” Michael asked sincerely.

“Why?” Geoff leapt on the question with urgency, and Jack knew why - he himself was putting on a concerned, wide-eyed look. He was protective over all his younger siblings, but none more so than Gavin. “What’s the matter?” Geoff questioned anxiously.

“Nightmares again,” Michael murmured. “Not loud otherwise I would’a woken up. But they’ve been keeping him up recently - can tell.”

Yeah, little guy has been extra tired recently, and if the bags under his eyes are anything to go by…

“We’re going swimming lessons with Jeremy, to try and help him not be ‘fraid of water. Burnie said it was cool,” Michael told them. “But I dunno if that’ll actually help him sleep better… or with anything.”

Geoff was silent for a moment, thinking things over. “I’m not a therapist, Michael,” he said gently.

Michael nodded, still gazing up hopefully. “But you can help, right?” he asked, unable to help himself. “You always help.”

Geoff gave him a helpless look as tossed the ball in his hand. “I’d be no more help than that lady he and James see. Less,” he pointed out, and Michael dropped his head.

“Nicki,” he said. “She’s nice but Gav… he don’t wanna speak to her. Burnie and that already tried. He only speaks to us and then they tell her what he’s said and she gives advice.”

He said it proudly, like he was happy he was in Gavin’s trusted circle. Jack wasn’t sure if that was such a good thing - great, to be trusted and all - but the fact that Gavin trusted so few…

Suppose that’s what you got from a kid who didn’t even know his own last name when the authorities found him.

“I’ll…I’ll talk to him,” Geoff said eventually. “Maybe take him down to the bags, see if I can’t get him to open up some more or at least let some of his feelings out some way.”

Michael nodded, not quite satisfied, but happier. “That could help,” he replied. “It helped before.”

Helped us all, Jack thought.

Geoff smiled a little, but Jack could tell he felt strained under the unintentional pressure Michael had just thrust upon him. His reward for being the eldest, Jack supposed.

“Baby steps, Michael,” Geoff reminded the boy. “As long as he’s going forward that’s all that matters. Kid was used as some sort of lab rat for their sick experiments for years. You don’t just bounce back from that, kid, you know that. And I know you two are tight but he hasn’t really been here all that long. Don’t be expecting too much from him.”

“I know. I just wanna help in any way I can,” Michael replied, innocently. “I won’t hurt him none.” He seemed awful sure of that, unaware that his actions might have any sort of consequence.

“I know,” Geoff assured him. “Just…just try not to push him too hard, okay?”

Michael’s face softened, frown lines vanishing from his forehead. “Yeah… he’s strong though, stronger than he thinks.”

“Never truer words,” Geoff agreed.

Jack shook his head, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Damn, he’s the toughest kid here and he doesn’t even know it.”

Michael looked at him pointedly, the mischievous glint returning. “Good. He’s already the cutest and most lovable, blah, blah, blah. We don’t need his head getting any bigger,” he ranted, throwing up his arms in a ranting gesture. A moment later his face lit up and he tapped Geoff on the arm. “Hey Geoff, talking of people who are supposed to be all innocent, that reminds me. Trevor –”

“Hold that thought,” Geoff cut him off, staring hard through the closest window. “I see something that needs Burnie’s immediate attention.” And without another word he was hurrying off leaving behind his startled younger brothers.

Michael walked to where Geoff had been standing and stared in the same general direction. Jack watched as the frown returned and then was replaced by a look of exasperation.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Lawrence.” Michael replied simply. “Drinking a beer.”

Jack let out a laugh of disbelief and had a look too, squinting through one window and out the one of the other side of the house. There indeed, at the front of the house, was just that.

Beside him, Michael let out a groan of despair, odd coming from a boy so young.

“This place, I swear,” he said. “It gets crazier every day.”

Part 4 - TBC -

#my fic #ah fic #rt fic #funhaus fic

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