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expectingtofly · 4 years

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SPN Stay at Home Challenge

Week 7: Thunderstorm

Thanks again to @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, and @pray4jensen for creating this challenge!

I wasn’t expecting to write my version of the Missing HoursTM of Season 9 Episode 6 but here we are...

Dean rescues Castiel from his failed date/babysitting job and they go for a drive in the night, trying to come to terms with Castiel's newfound humanity.

Words: ~3k

also posted on my ao3

Just For Tonight

“Shit, I can’t see a damn thing.” Dean leaned forward as if getting closer to the windshield would help him see better through the dense, dark sleet of rain pounding the highway outside.

He glanced at Castiel but the angel—no, human, he had to keep reminding himself—didn’t speak, only stared out the window. He’d been silent the whole drive since Dean rescued him from his failed date/babysitting job. Dean wanted to ask if he was alright, but that seemed a ridiculous question. Of course he wasn’t.

Wind blew a smattering of rain onto the windshield and, giving up driving in such a storm, Dean eased Baby to the right of the highway, headlights illuminating the white line marking the border to the shoulder.

They sat there silently for a moment, he and Castiel, staring out the windshield at the night, at the steady stream of water pouring from the heavens, thick lines like hippy strings of beads hanging over a doorway.

Rescuing Castiel from his miserable night, Dean had never seen him look so...drained. So defeated. Not knowing what to do or say, Dean had taken matters into his own hands and done what he knew best. Drive. He’d taken long, winding roads out of town, found the highway, and headed east. He’d passed exits for motels, ignored the flashing lightning and the thick clouds crowding out the stars, the rumbling thunder. Didn’t speak, just drove. And then the clouds had let loose a sudden outpouring, smothering the faint moonlight.

Dean tapped the steering wheel in a staccato mimicking the rain and glanced at Castiel, who sat slumped against the door, his head resting on the window. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Castiel sit without ramrod posture and at the sight a fear surged in him, a fear which had settled in the pit of his stomach when he first saw Castiel working in the gas station.

Castiel was still wearing the same jeans and white shirt he’d been wearing then and the unfamiliarity of his outfit only increased Dean’s worry that he didn’t know this Castiel, that this newly human Castiel was someone else entirely than angel Castiel. Dean stared back out the windshield.

“Wish you had your wings so you could zap us out of this storm,” he said. He was struck by a flash of regret at “wings,” but the rest of the words fell off too fast to stop them. Fuck. He clenched the steering wheel and waited for human Castiel to...he didn’t know what. Curse him out, leave the car and disappear in the storm, tell him to shut up and think for once, for one goddamn moment, before he spoke.

But Castiel only said, very much like his matter-of-fact angel-self, “They would be very convenient right now.” He shifted, hunching his shoulders slightly as if remembering what used to rest on them.

Dean wished Castiel still had his wings just so he could zap away and leave Dean to his self-loathing. He was always saying the wrong things, imagined a scale in Castiel’s mind with one side labeled “Reasons to Put Up With Dean,” and the other, “Reasons to Leave Dean’s Bullshit.” The scales were tipping dangerously now.

Trying to change the subject, Dean tapped the window to his left. “Sam and I would play this game when we were kids where we’d race the raindrops on our windows.”

Castiel pulled his head from the window to look at him, his head tilted in the “I don’t understand” manner of his. So human Castiel still did that.

Dean tried to explain. “We’d each choose a raindrop.” He pointed to a raindrop resting at the top of the window. “And whoever’s reached the bottom of the window first won.” He traced the raindrop’s course as it slipped down the window and broke at the bottom, turning into a trickle.

“But there’s no skill involved,” Castiel said, sitting up. “The winner wins entirely by chance.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point. It’s just some game kids play when they’re bored to death on a long car ride.”

Castiel sighed and sunk into his seat. “I suppose I should start learning more about human things, the games they play.” He sounded so sad about the prospect that Dean didn’t say anything else, figuring he couldn’t make things worse if he kept his mouth shut. He fiddled with the heat controls, caught the low whine of the heat turning on and pouring through the vents.

Castiel crossed his arms. “Do I…” He stared out the windshield. The rain struck the hood of the car so fiercely it seemed likely to dent. “Do I seem different to you without my wings or powers?”

“No,” Dean answered quickly because it seemed like the right answer considering the alternative. “Why? Do you feel different?”

Castiel shrugged. “My wings were a part of me. Imagine losing your arm or leg.”

“Oh.” He’d never realized how significant wings were beyond practical use. Castiel had never spoken of them when he was an angel.

“And without my grace...” Castiel turned his hands palms up and stared at them. The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m essentially a ‘baby in a trench coat,’ as you would say.”

Dean winced. One of the idiotic things he’d said which threatened to tip Castiel’s scale permanently towards, “Stay Away At All Costs.”

Plucking at his jeans, Castiel frowned. “I’m not wearing the trench coat anymore though, so I don’t even have that.”

“Cas, I didn’t mean that stupid shit.” Castiel dropped his hands onto his lap. “Besides, I said that a long time ago. You shouldn’t listen to anything I said back then. Shouldn’t listen to any crap I say now if we’re being honest.”

The rainfall lightened for a moment, then resumed its drubbing. Castiel leaned back against the seat and his shoulders sloped down once again. Dean studied him. If he hadn’t known Castiel was now human, would he have guessed? This Castiel was sadder, quieter, but that wasn’t strictly a human trait. Of course he’d be grieving losing his grace. And he still looked the same, still acted the same...only now there was a somber air about him, a heaviness to his movements. Some smoothness, airiness inherent to an angel, gone.

Maybe he wouldn't have been able to tell Castiel was human, but he would’ve known something was off. At the same time, though, he would’ve known with certainty that this person sitting next to him was still Castiel, not a possessed body and certainly not Jimmy Novak. Dean knew this because sitting here with Castiel didn’t feel strange or uncomfortable like sitting next to a stranger would. It felt completely natural.

“Buddy, come on, you’re breaking my heart.” Castiel looked over and Dean gestured to him. “No one thinks any less of you for not having wings or powers. You may not be wearing the trench coat and all, but you’re still you, just without all the bells and whistles.”

God, that was stupid. Why couldn’t he explain anything right?

But Castiel nodded solemnly. “I suppose that might be true.”

Maybe his stumbling words had been good enough, at least to outweigh “baby in a trench coat.” Dean smiled at Castiel, which was a mistake, because then Castiel looked at him with those piercing eyes that never ceased to make him weak in the knees.

Dean swallowed and looked away. He leaned his arm on the window sill, felt the cold from outside seep through his sleeve. Where did he and Castiel stand? After purgatory, he had thought...but they’d never put a name to anything and now with the whole mess with Sam and Ezekial and Metatron—he and Castiel couldn’t be together. Not now.

He’d tried to make that clear. Hadn’t he tried to help Castiel go on a date earlier tonight? And he couldn’t forget that Castiel had slept with that reaper, that bitch who’d then tricked him and tortured him—instinctively Dean clenched his hand into a fist—but, regardless, it seemed Castiel had moved on. And Dean was trying too. Trying being the key word.

“Are you sure I can’t come back to the bunker?” Castiel asked, so quietly Dean almost lost the words in the storm outside.

He looked at Castiel and hesitated, hoping to find a way to soften his immediate answer. But something in his face must have told Castiel anyway because Castiel sighed and looked out his window.

“I’m sorry, Cas. After Sam is better—”

“I know.” Castiel fiddled with his sleeve. “I just...miss you.”

Dean waited for him to finish the sentence. Miss “you guys” or “you and Sam,” but Castiel let the single you hang in the space between them, suspended between the rattling rain and a crack of thunder.

Dean looked down at his hands. “I miss you too,” he said.

He heard the slide of Castiel’s clothes across the bench seat and saw Castiel’s knee bump his. He raised his eyes and Castiel’s eyes searched his. Dean wondered what Castiel saw in them, how he could gaze for so long. Wondering what they revealed, he nearly drew back, but then Castiel lowered his eyes, leaned forward, and kissed him.

Dean thought about pulling away, telling Castiel he couldn’t, not when he knew that in a few hours he’d have to leave Castiel at that gas station, drive away and leave him standing there to manage being a human alone. But instead he put his hand to Castiel’s face and kissed him back.

Rain pounded the roof and windows around them, making the car seem somehow smaller. Surrounded as they were by dark and rain, they could be anywhere. Baby might be sitting at the bottom of the ocean or settled in one of the dark clouds up in the sky. It didn’t matter when all Dean could think of was Castiel leaning into him.

Castiel slid his hand up Dean’s thigh and now, reluctantly, Dean pulled away. “Cas,” he started, “you know we can’t be together—”

“Just for tonight,” Castiel said and took Dean’s hand, slid his fingers in between Dean’s. Dean looked down at their hands and knew it was selfish. Knew he’d only feel worse leaving Castiel in the morning, knew his resolve would have to be that much stronger to drive away. But for now, he let himself be weak.

They kissed, again, deeper. Dean touched Castiel’s shirt, the feel all wrong, he wanted the trench coat, but it didn’t matter now anyway because Castiel unbuttoned it and shrugged it off his shoulders, leaving his skin bare to Dean’s hands. He shivered under Dean’s touch and the familiarity of it all swelled in Dean’s chest into something akin to shame. For leaving Castiel time after time, for knowing he’d do it again.

Castiel tugged Dean’s jacket and Dean pulled it off, his elbow hitting the steering wheel. Castiel took it from him and dropped it onto the floor of the car.

“The backseat,” Castiel said. He clambered over the seatback and Dean followed, feeling almost guilty at how eager Castiel was. He sat heavily on the backseat, drawing his legs over the front seat to the floor. Castiel straddled him and Dean touched his side. “This is new.”

Castiel looked down at the Enochian symbols inked across his skin. “Now the angels can’t find me.”

Another reminder that he was human. Dean took Castiel’s face in his hands and lifted it to look in his eyes. There wasn’t anything he could say, so he kissed him instead and hoped that might be enough.

…

Dean held Castiel close, warm, bare skin against his, and they lay and listened to the rain slowing, drops hitting Baby less intensely, more sporadically, than its former constant drumming. Thunder rumbled low in the distance and then it was quiet save for stray rain drops smacking the roof and the low hum of Baby’s engine.

Castiel lay with his back against Dean’s chest and Dean felt the rise and fall of his breathing. Looking out the opposite window, he was relieved to see it was still dark outside. They still had a few hours.

He pushed his nose into Castiel’s hair, breathed in the scent of him. Maybe there was something else essentially angel that was gone now that Castiel was human. Not that sex with him wasn’t as incredible as always, but Castiel felt more vulnerable now. More mortal, if that was something that could even be sensed. Dean had never worried so much about Castiel before. Living on his own, working, meeting people. If the events earlier tonight had proven anything, it was that Castiel was still woefully unsuited to being human.

Castiel shifted, lifted his head from Dean’s arm and looked out the window above their heads. Dean thought he was going to comment on the rain stopping, but he reached out and tapped a spot high up on the window. “That one’s mine.”

Dean tilted his head back and looked at the rain speckled glass. “This one.” He pushed himself onto his elbow and pointed to a drop, his hand bumping Castiel’s.

They watched as the raindrops meandered down the window, Dean’s hitting another drop and gaining speed, then changing course, turning to the side, and slowing. Dean tapped the glass to shake his raindrop from its reverie and Castiel pushed his hand away. He pointed at his raindrop inching to the edge of the window. It disappeared from view. “Mine won!”

“You cheated,” Dean said, smiling at Castiel’s genuine excitement.

“I did not. You’re the one who tried to cheat.” He settled back down and Dean rested his head on the door. He looked at Castiel, dreading when they’d have to part in the morning. Pushing it from his mind, he traced his finger over Castiel’s back, between his shoulder blades. Castiel shivered a little and Dean wondered if that’s where his wings had sprouted, wished he had shown more interest in them when Castiel still had them.

“What did your wings look like?” he asked. Castiel looked up at him and he added hastily, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—”

“I don’t mind.” Castiel shifted on the seat, the leather squeaking. “It’s hard to explain in non-angelic terms.” He was silent for a moment. “I suppose they would’ve looked black to you, and shiny.”

“With feathers and everything?”

Castiel nodded. “You’ve seen, in a way, when I’ve shown you their shadow.”

“Like when we first met and you were showing off.”

Castiel smiled. “Yes, like then.”

A car passed them on the highway, first a whirring, then a spray of water smacking Baby’s windows.

“We should get going,” Dean said, trying to sound indifferent, as if he wasn’t always the one putting a stop to moments like this, pushing Castiel away when that was the complete opposite of what he knew they both wanted.

Castiel nodded, his hand resting heavily on Dean’s stomach. Light from a passing car shone through the window and spotted Castiel’s skin with raindrop shadows.

“Dean.”

“Yes?”

“Even if I had my wings, I wouldn’t have “zapped” us away out of the storm.” His fingers raised momentarily to make air quotes and Dean smiled a little. Angel or human, he was still undeniably Castiel. “I would’ve wanted to stay here with you.” Castiel ran a finger over Dean’s chest. “I wouldn’t mind being human if it was always like this.”

Dean blinked quickly at the sudden sting of tears. Dammit, Cas, he thought. How could he leave this very sad, very human Castiel? When everything, his very identity, had been taken from him? But Dean had to.

He tried to reason with himself that this was for Castiel’s benefit: Castiel was human now; he didn’t have to be entangled in Winchester problems. But Dean saw the scale tipping out of his favor.

Leaning down, he kissed the top of Castiel’s head and knew it wasn’t enough. Castiel wrapped his arms around him, pressed his forehead to his chest, and with a deep regret, Dean let himself settle into this moment for a little longer, let himself pretend nothing existed beyond this moment, beyond the rain-streaked, fogged windows and warmth of Castiel’s embrace, the touch of their rain-freckled skin.

Tagging @spnwaywardone

let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my spn fics!

#spnstayathome #supernatural #destiel #deancasfic #angst and pining #season 9 episode 6 #this was supposed to be all fluff #but then it became all pining and angst #story of my life #expectingtoflywrites

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haramheathen · 6 years

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I just really need to vent and get some feelings and things off my chest and mind.

Life has been really tough lately.

My family are still terrible, still don’t speak to me nicely, barely acknowledge my existence and when they do it’s only to bitch at me or about me.

I now suspect my aunt told my cousins I no longer follow Islam because they don’t even say hello to me when they see me anymore. Not that they did much but i’ve noticed since around the time I told my aunt I don’t believe in Allah or follow Islam anymore that they’ve had less to do with me .. not that they ever had much to do with me.

My aunts behavior towards me has become a lot worse. I think most of it is because of how she feels about herself. She seems so miserable but hides behind it and is in denial. She refuses to help herself so she’s forever stuck being miserable. ‘Praying to allah’ is only gonna get her so far and when she does nothing to help better herself or situation or refuse to make changes. She’ll forever be stuck in the same miserable place. Now that she’s been stuck in that place for years she lets her anger and misery out on me because it’s like she can’t keep it to herself anymore.

I feel like we got on a lot better back when I was overweight. We would eat a lot of junk food together and watch hours of tv. Now i care more about being and eating healthy and don’t really go over to her house to watch tv with her because all she does is bitch at me and push her negativity onto me. I’m 50kgs lighter and she’s always said she doesn't want to lose weight but I can tell she’s not happy and I guess seeing me change so much while she hasn’t changed would be hard. I feel like she’s kind of bitter towards me. I don’t know if that’s the exact or part of the reason why but there’s definitely bitterness there.

I feel like my entire family is bitter towards me. I feel like a lot of it is to do with the fact that i’ve always made my decisions for myself and gone against what’s always been expected of me culturally and religion wise.

When my grandparents got sick I did my share to help out here and there. I’ve always struggled a lot with my mental health going through stages of deep depression and suicidal thoughts. I’ve only ever had the mental energy to just push through and help better myself get from one day to another and that’s how I live, I take things one day at a time because that’s what I can only cope with. I haven’t had the mental energy to invest anything in my family specially since they’ve never really been there for me and mainly just mistreated me or ignored the abuse when my parents/mum would treat me bad.

When my grandma had a stroke I took turns at sleeping on a mattress next to her bedside to help her at night if she needed help walking to the bathroom. When it came time for me to say hey i’ve done it for a few days can someone else take over now they’d all get shitty at me. No one really wanted to take over. It’s like they felt i was obligated to do it because i was the youngest. Like i owed my life to my to them because i’m family. It’s like they were taking advantage and I didn’t like being guilt tripped when we were all meant to be taking turns. It’s like they felt their jobs and well being was more important than mine because they were all older than me. And it was like because i was the youngest in the house and a female I should just shut up and do it.

Being raised in New Zealand I never shared that mentality. Specially being raised with an abusive family. Why on earth would I want to continue to give so much of myself when they’be barely given me the time of day and failed to protect me from my abusive mother for years? I felt it was more important to protect myself so i backed off and withdraw away from my family and let my aunties and uncle and dad take responsibility of my grandparents.

I didn’t feel it was fair to put so much pressure on me, specially since I was constantly struggling with my mental health. Also being around my family more meant being around religion more and I just couldn’t cope. It was just too much. I had withdraw, keep distance and protect myself.

Early last year my aunt broke her arm. She was off work for nearly a year and during that time it was offered to her FOR FREE to have free home help and cleaning. This was offered to her at the hospital too and at the doctor. Despite this she said ‘no my niece with do it all for me’. She basically could have had someone come to her house for free to clean for her, do help her with things but she insisted that I do it all for her. I was struggling with depression and being bullied at work, let alone working a stressful job.

I was too kind hearted and agreed to help her out but i made clear in the start its better for her to have home help because I can only do so much.

I’d have to get up extra early in the mornings and cook her breakfast, did her laundry, cooked her dinner, cleaned her toilet and shower. All this while struggling with depression, work stress, dealing with my own problems, barely being able to look after myself.

I managed to do it for a few weeks/months and it got too much for me. She would make me feel guilty. I’d come home from work and asked if she’d eaten lunch and she’d say no. It would make me feel bad, like I should be there to make her something. She had a broken arm she could still use one arm to do things. I feel like she wanted to be babied and I can barely take care of my self so I can’t be there to baby her specially when she’s a grown ass women and can still do things with one arm. It wasn’t like she was a vegetable.

It got to a point where she asked if i had a toothbrush.. and I said ‘why?’ she said too clean the shower. I was shocked because I cleaned her shower fine.. I didn’t need a toothbrush to scrub it?? Wt?? That was it for me I felt like she was starting to take advantage at this point, I’ve helped her through the first few months and now she needs to take responsibility and if she needs more help that is FREE she needs to talk to her GP and get it because I am struggling to look after myself and my depression is getting really bad and i’m struggling to cope.

I told her i’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore you need to get that free help if you need it now I’ve done this for a while and i have to look after myself. And i feel like she’s been bitter towards me since.

I feel like my whole family has been bitter towards me since my grandparents got sick and my grandad passed on because as the youngest in the house and as a female it’s culturally my ‘duty’ to put myself last, be completely selfless and do everything for them.

But like i said, I couldn’t. I love my grandparents to death but it was destroying my mental health. This family has destroyed my mental health from day one. I distance myself, isolate myself and focus on my mental health and look after myself. I was incredibly suicidal that during that time and getting sucked into my family would have no doubt tipped me over the edge. Specially since they were setting of my ptsd symptoms every time i was around them or every time i could hear them screaming at each other through the walls.

My family and their religion are incredibly volatile and toxic. They are damaging to my mental health and well being. That’s why for the past few years I’ve really withdrawn and kept to myself. They’ll never know the damage and pain they’ve caused me yet continue to treat me like an inconvenience and burden. I feel like they have no respect towards me at all. I feel like no one has my back, no one really cares. I don’t know what it’s like to have a caring, loving family where people actually want to help you and care about you and you’re well being.

All i can do is try to be strong and keep going and continue to take things one day at a time. At least i’m trying my best. At least unlike my family, I slowly make changes to better myself and my life. I just can’t let this break me down or get to me. I have so much to look forward to in the future. There are so many things I haven’t experienced. So many places I haven’t been. I need to keep reminding myself that there are positive things in life and maybe one day things will be okay and the past will just be the past and I’ll one day have nothing to do with my family or islam and I’ll never look back. One day things will be okay. I just need to stay strong for myself.

#personal #toxic family #ex muslim

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141-point-12 · 7 years

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Quite a week...

Under a cut for a *lot* of personal venting regarding my in-laws.

I wasn’t really sure if I was going to write this all up here, but posting 140 character blurbs on twitter was too limiting, and posting my feelings on facebook just yielded a lot of “Be patient! :3 It’ll be okay!″ from my family members etc when what I really want is a “Wow, that sucks. Sorry bro.”

Right now I have a 3 hour “calming spa music with water sounds” playing. I have made heavy use of such videos over the last week, often having to rely on them to calm down enough to sleep. The reason sounds sort of stupid- my in-laws came in to town for a visit, but these people have a way of taking a totally normal situation and forcing it to explode until something as simple as “returning the rental car” is a code red.

This isn’t new behavior. The family is flat out dysfunctional. But there were a few different things to deal with this time around.

The last time my MiL came to town, she got into a prolonged “argument” about why I hadn’t had any children yet. (Obviously this was something on my shoulders, nothing her son had anything to do with, and certainly not our business to decide.) To make a long story short, she went around and around telling me things like having pets means wasting valuable time you could be spending on children, people primarily get married to have children, if there was some medical reason I couldn’t have children I should have told them before I married their son, an adopted child wouldn’t really be “ours”. She barked this at me for over an hour while my husband was out of the house. He threw her out the following morning, raising his voice for the third time in the nearly 15 years I’ve known him.

After that, we decided she was not welcome to stay in our home. His father (difficult in his own way, but we’ll get to that) could stay with us, but she would either have to stay with my husband’s brother, or in a hotel. When we were told (not asked) about their visit- we explained this to the FiL in a number of ways. That she made herself unwelcome the last time she was here. That she stressed my husband out triggering a lot of my husband’s health issues, etc. His response was always dismissive. Up until the day they arrived, we were preparing for a full on fight when we insisted- because he never treated this information with any kind of regard. Luckily, when the day came, she went to my BiL’s house with little fuss.

Their visit itself was stressful in a number of ways. This couple is incapable of doing something as simple as picking a restaurant for lunch without it becoming an ordeal. Arguments happen over nothing. FiL has a lot of health problems, but makes it everyone else’s job to cater to him, without acknowledging the effort. MiL is a whirling dervish of frenetic energy who wants to see and do everything but can’t calm down enough to listen to the information being given to her. She constantly and repeatedly asks questions without waiting for the answer, and then barrels on ahead with no information or context.

To be honest, MiL wasn’t at her worst this visit- which is exhausting in its own way. This is a woman who has run out her goodwill by being classist, racist, and absolutely inconsiderate of others around her while pushing for her own agenda. Any attempts to appease her are not noticed while she asks for more. And then she has moments of near normalcy that make you think everything might be okay- but the moment you trust her, she reverts to her regular behavior. She can’t take no for an answer. She is constantly chasing “Kodak moments” with her family so she has something to share at brunch with her friends, but never forged genuine emotional connections with the people she wants to show off. If it had been only her, this might have been simply a taxing visit.

However- this time around, my FiL really showed what he was made of. Which is to say a thick mass of manipulation, covered in a thin veneer of intelligence and the familial goodwill he has left with his sons. He even said things like he could “control” his wife, so she should be allowed to stay in our home. First of all, he can’t, at all. Secondly...ew?

It is only in about the last year or so that my husband has realized that the cycle of dysfunction in their home isn’t only due to their mother. Their father absolutely enabled her behavior to take over, leaving everyone else in the house constantly arming battlestations as they tried to minimize the damage. There is no open channel of communication in their home. There is only conflict and argument- even over things that should be occasions for joy.

What has ended up happening is that my MiL has come to represent the emotional, the irrational, and the bad. Meanwhile logic and rationality are theoretically championed by his father- but his father is just as emotional and temperamental, it’s just that when he throws a fit it’s because he thinks everyone else is being too irrational to see reason, not that he has done anything wrong. As such, the idea of emotional wellbeing is basically laughed at. Even my husband’s brother didn’t seem to understand my husband’s need to keep a calm household for his own wellbeing.

After only two days of their bickering, my body entered a very obvious set of fight or flight symtoms- but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t physically fight these people, nor could I go anywhere. So I just... stayed that way. For hours. That’s... not how that’s supposed to work, and my body partially shut down. Another 24 hours later and my husband experienced something similar. It was a week of constantly checking in on each other- giving each other wide berth and space when there was little to be had.

Their visit was extended because Hurricane Irma shut down travel back into Florida. My MiL kept calling themselves “hurricane refugees” as though they’d actually fled their home, and not just come off of a month long cruise around Europe. She kept insisting they should get special treatment at car rentals and hotels as though our city isn’t currently full of people with real, actual needs- not just on extended vacations.

Two days after their planned departure, my husband and I had had enough. The boundaries we set had been breached (FiL convinced MiL to stay the night at our house, despite my husband having made it clear that was not what we wanted- bringing the total number of times he has raised his voice within earshot to four). We were stressed out, nothing we did to try and satisfy them was helping them, so we decided to help ourselves. We took a brief trip out of town (for a total of about 2 days, although we only spent one whole day out of their company) with plans to return before their actual departure. There was plenty of resistance from my FiL, of course, but thankfully my husband stood firm.

It was a much needed break for us, and even then we were still checking in on the home front, making suggestions for activities in town that we thought they might enjoy etc. We came back more ready to handle them in their last day with us.

They left, finally. There was much more stress involved in the process than necessary, and I’ve firmly come to believe that with no hobbies or interests to speak of, my FiL has no pasttime other than being miserable and spreading that out in a search for... sympathy, I guess?

In the end, I can only be thankful that my husband and I are on the same page about these people and their behavior. It would be another thing entirely if he somehow thought this was acceptable- but the fact that we could talk every night about what was happening, and how we wanted to handle things and proceed the next day already means that we are light years ahead of this pair when it comes to communication. I told him I was proud of him for deciding to prioritize our wellbeing and mental health (when there was honestly nothing we could do to make his parents happy) by taking a few steps back and taking a short trip out of town. Today he told me how happy he was that we could pick a sandwich shop for lunch in less than a minute and carry on from their without it becoming an ordeal. Simple things- but not ones I can take for granted anymore.

#personal #really long rant #my husband was raised by narcissists #i'm not really specific about what but damn son it was a long week+

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