PEPPER P. (saltedand) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-05-05 03:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | robin hood, supergirl |
Who: Russ and March
What: A 'fight'.
When: Immediately after this
Where: Turnberry
Warnings: Violence.
March was being a damn fool, and he knew he was being a damn fool. He was angry, too, which he hadn't been expecting. Russ had every right to be fussed with him. It was like he'd told Toby, someday Russ might need to look back on that punch to make him feel better about things. Someday, when Ford was twenty-five or thirty and dying somewhere. March understood. Heck, there was still a real good chance Ford was fine. They'd only been together once, after all, and the odds were in his favor. But still; March understood.
Understanding didn't tamper that anger that March hadn't been expecting, though. Who was angry for him? Why the heck didn't anyone get that it wasn't intentional? Someone, somewhere, had done the same damn thing to him, hadn't they? Why'd he lose being a victim? He didn't know he was sick when he'd gone and slept with Ford. Heck, neither of them had used a condom. It was just damn numbers that said March had been sick first. It wasn't intentional. He hadn't been the bastard that knew his status and didn't say a damn thing to anyone. He hadn't been with one damn person since he'd found out, not even the safe way. So, why was he the damn bastard? And who was finding whoever'd smacked him with a death sentence and breaking his knees?
No one.
March had no damn clue who'd gotten him sick. He wasn't safe back then. He'd been like a ton of other kids, thinking nothing could kill them. Indestructible, that's how he'd felt. Heck, he'd lived through his daddy hanging himself, and he'd lived through his stepmomma driving him into a damn lake. He'd looked at death, and he'd felt his lungs filling with water, and he'd walked away. He wasn't scared of a damn thing after that.
March wondered, spiteful for a second, if Russ would hold Ford responsible for every boy he'd slept with between March and now. Damn hypocrites, and yeah, he was riled up good. He was hurt, and he was riled, and he was even jealous of Ford some. Ford still had a chance that he'd be just fine. No death sentence, no cocktail of pills, no godawful and miserable future to look forward to. Ford might still have a damn life to look forward to.
March wanted that for Ford real fucking bad, but he was jealous some too.
True to his word, March had left the door unlocked to his apartment on the top floor of Turnberry, where he lived rich as Croesus. But money couldn't fix a damn thing, could it? He'd told the doorman he was expecting folks, and then he'd got his favorite guitar, and he'd sat his ass on the windowsill. He got to playing seconds later. Quiet first, then louder some.
He calmed himself as he strummed. He wouldn't say a damn thing when Russ showed, he decided. It would give him something to focus on, not saying anything. And March couldn't throw any damn punch. At twenty-four, he looked younger than he was, and he was a skinny little nothing. 5'10. and khakis low on slim hips. His shirt was something snug and white, boy's department and nothing like a real grown ass man would wear. He was barefoot, just pure white socks on his feet, and his hair was hipster mussed.
Maybe he'd feel better about this whole mess after a punch or two, because talking to Ford sure hadn't made him feel better. Boy didn't seem to understand a damn thing that March was saying, and March knew what that was like. He remembered locking himself in the bathroom after his test had come back positive, and he'd lost his damn lunch and cried all over himself. He knew what it felt like.
But, he reminded himself, Ford might be just fine. This all might be for nothing. He hoped it was all for nothing. He hoped harder than he'd ever hoped for a damn thing. HIs own visit to the doctor, the one he'd put off for over a year, it hadn't gone real well. He hoped Ford was plenty fine.
And when March heard the door, he just lifted his head, and he smiled. Wealth, and carefree dimples and a nose too big for his face. He smiled