|Rorie O'Bannon (roriemccool) wrote in tiberiusswann,|
@ 2012-01-04 12:11:00
|Entry tags:||finn, garret, rorie|
Friday March 20, 2009
Who: Garret and Rorie and small bits of Finn
What: Coming home after a sit down meeting and dealing with relationship drama
Where: Garret's house
When: Late evening
The car ride home was silent. Everything had been done and negotiated and now they were as free as they'd be. The second after them was all too grateful to take over. Finn of course made sure that they were in the free and clear, that if they were marked that whoever started it would be taken out. He used his telepathy to blackmail him into saying so. The upside was Liam had only briefly talked about his sons and they were more an urban legend than reality. Except Rorie, but it wasn't widely known that he was Liam's son, just blood family brought in. Pulling up to Garret's house though, there was a car parked out front. "Shit," he groaned, recognizing Rorie's car. This night just got better. When Garret parked the car, he looked at the other man for a brief moment before getting out.
Walking to the door, he found it unlocked and walked in. Oh, this was gonna be a knock out drag out fight. He could feel Rorie's anger from the kitchen and that was saying something. Sure Rorie got upset and mad, but it faded after a bit. This was borderline fury. "Don't push him," Finn whispered to Garret, knowing Rorie would start losing control if he was pushed in the emotional state he was. It was like walking in on a ticking time bomb and you had only a set of nail clippers to defuse it.
There was nothing to be said as they drove. Garret remained silent, eyes on the road, obeying the speed limit for once. He thought it'd be pretty ironic if, the one time he hadn't broken the law, he got pulled over. But luckily they didn't, and soon enough they were home, where it was supposed to be safe, and comforting. No such luck. Growling a little, Garret ran his hands through his hair, killed the engine and climbed out.
It was pointless for Finn to tell Garret anything, because they both knew damn well he'd say and do what he wanted. And he did. "You get hired to put a hit on us?" he asked Rorie dryly, going to the fridge and grabbing the carton of orange juice. "Cuz I promise it won't take."
Finn was not stupid, he was staying out of this. Going to one side, he felt his brother's eyes boring into him before they turned on Garret. Rorie didn't even blink as he shut the door with his powers. Turning all the locks in the house and pulling all the blinds. Finn stood there not wanting to push, but kinda freaked out by the fact his brother was doing this. "Do you know what you've done?" He growled, every muscle in his body tense. He had a fleeting amount of concern, but then when Garret gave him a flippant greeting, that concern went right out the window.
Rorie didn't scare Garret. Maybe he should have, but despite having been shot in the head only a few hours ago, his ego wouldn't let him be scared. After all, what was the worst Rorie could do? Kill him?
Laughing a bit, he took a drink before speaking again. "Yes," he said, wiping his mouth with a bloodied hand. "I do. We went to your father's house, I got shot, Finn negotiated pretty hardcore, you two are dropped from the family and you can go about your lives."
The laugh only made it worse. Finn was looking nervously between the two, feeling the heat from Rorie easily. The orange juice went flying and Garret was shoved against the fridge as Rorie glared at him. "I got a call not two hours ago saying I'm now in charge and have a sit down scheduled for tomorrow night. Seems your negotiations didn't work after all," he growled. Of course for all Rorie knew the call was made after the meeting Garret was talking about, not before.
Well that was just rude. Of course, scoffing at his pissed off boyfriend... husband... ex husband? Scoffing at Rorie was pretty rude too. Garret did have to admit that. Still, now there was juice on the floor, and on his clothing. Mixed with blood of course...
"Two hours?" he asked, looking at his pocketwatch and then looking at Finn. "When did we leave the house? Half an hour ago?"
"Uh, yeah," Finn nodded, not wanting to say more than needed. These two were going to goad each other and end up killing each other or something. "I'm just. . . Gonna. . . Yeah," he said going to the living room, noticing a lot of missing things. Wonderful.
As much as he was furious at Garret and Finn, hearing the time frame took a second to sink in. Two hours ago he got the call. Half an hour ago they got Finn and Rorie out of line. They were free, done, outta the picture. Relief washed over him as he took a step back. Taking a breath, he looked at the kitchen counter, ignoring Garret. He was out. He could leave and not have to worry about Mandy or Garret or Finn. Rorie felt damn lighter knowing that and the air cleared up to show it.
As Rorie stood, Garret drew in a deep breath. It was physically lighter in the room, and he could actually breathe. Picking up the orange juice container, Garret drank down the last two sips that hadn't spilled on the floor, then put the carton back in the fridge. "I won't say you're welcome, because it's smug," Garret said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "But... well, whatever. Y'know. I'm just glad you can... not have to kill things anymore." Fuck, he was so goddamn tired. Hopping up onto the counter, he rubbed his eyes again, smearing the slowly crying blood on his face. He needed a shower. A long one.
Rorie just stood there soaking it in until Garret spoke. Looking up, he felt like lashing out again, but not as badly. "Yeah," he said softly. "I moved the rest of my stuff out," he said, wondering if this was wrapping things up. Wrapping them up. After everything this was finally how they were going to split. "Pete's with me at my hotel room, so don't worry about that," he said as felt his chest ache. "I'll. . . I'll see you around at school," he said before he turned and started to walk away.
Of all the things Garret could have said, should have said, what came out was "You took Pete?" He had actually kind of liked having that... fleabag in the bed. Pete was warm, and he took up space that Rorie used to take up. "I mean... yeah, okay. Right." So much heaviness hung in the air between them, things to be said. He didn't want Rorie to stay, but... he didn't want him to go either.
"So... you're not even curious that I said I got shot?" Garret asked, just as Rorie's hand grabbed the doorknob. "It has a surprise twist ending."
"Yeah, I mean, you hate him and everything," Rorie said, pausing, turning to look at Garret. "I was kind of busy trying not to blow up the house," he said with a snort as he turned around. He wanted nothing more than to leave and go home and cry and curse and yell because as far as he knew him and Garret were done. The larger part made him stay though. Any excuse to stay longer with him. "I'm a sucker for surprise twist endings," he said, walking back in.
"Well, have a seat. It's a doozie." Sliding off the counter, Garret sat down at the table, indicating Rorie should do the same. "Your biodad shot me in the face. Point blank, too, which is just... really cowardly if you ask me, I mean there was no sport in it. He did it as a surprise too, like a sissy. And I died. And then, I woke up in a dumpster! So I smell just lovely, and I've covered in blood and there should be a huge hole in my head but there isn't. I'm fine. So..." Waving his hands, Garret grinned at Rorie. "Surprise! Twist ending. Garret isn't dead."
Sitting down, Rorie sat there and listened. He didn't break in, but his facial expression changed from interested to shocked to mad shocked. "So. . . You died, but you came back?" He said, letting it sink in. This was one of those moments where he wasn't sure how to feel and had so many mixed feelings. One part was he that he was relieved that Garret was okay, another part was that he was shocked, another freaking out because now Garret would never die as far as he knew, the last part pissed. All that freaking out and fighting and shit with the heart attack and he would have been fine. All along. "I. . . I don't think I am. . . I just. . ." He couldn't put his feelings into words other groaning and banging his head against the table for a moment.
This wasn't really what Garret had expected. He thought Rorie might cry, or yell, or at least act more shocked. Give a better reaction. Something.
Sliding his hand across the table, Garret caught Rorie's forehead in his palm before the next thump. "Hey now... you're gonna put a hole in your own head at this rate," he said gently. "I wish I knew what had happened. I mean... maybe one of Liam's goons is some kind of super healer. Finn didn't see me get thrown in the dumpster." He was still pretty miffed about waking up in garbage. "Who knows what happened in the interim."
Grunting as he felt Garret's palm cushion, he let up, but didn't move his head from Garret's hand. It was just too hard to move away. "Be about my luck," he grumbled, looking up at his. . . He wasn't sure what Garret was anymore. He hated not knowing. "Why would he heal you though?" He asked, not minding the smell coming from Garret. So long as he could keep this close for a while longer. "Either way I'm glad your okay, I'm not sure what I would have done if I'd lost you," he said before he could stop himself. For all he knew he had lost him, just not in death.
It was hard to look at Rorie and not feel his heart strings tug. He was pissed at the guy, and hurt, but he still loved him. "I guess I'm just lucky," he said softly, shrugging a little and stroking Rorie's cheek with his thumb. Oh, this boy. What was he going to do with this boy?
"So... as usual, it looks like I was an asshole for getting mad at you. At least Declan seems to think so. And I'm sure Mal does, too." He frowned, because even though he hadn't talked to Mal about it he could already predict his reaction. Mal would side with Rorie because he always did. "So I guess... you should feel glad that you were right. Apparently."
"Why would I? It doesn't mean anything," Rorie said softly. "It doesn't make things okay between us, so me being right doesn't do anything." This seemed like a branch into an apology, but he wasn't banking on it. Garret didn't apologize often, even if he was in the wrong. Sitting up, pulling away from Garret, he took a breath. "I should go, Pete's waiting on me and he's in a new place by himself." Rorie could never stay mad at Garret or Mal. Never. It wasn't so the other way around and he knew it. The best thing to do was just to give Garret space and hope that was enough.
Getting up, he looked at the older man looking like he was going to say something, but just nodded his head instead. Turning around, he figured Garret was tired and ready to just pass out. If only Rorie was so lucky.
For a minute, Garret wished Rorie would say something. Part of him wanted to argue, to fight about it, burn off some of the anger boiling inside him. "I'm not wrong," he said finally, almost bursting at the seams. "I'm not. I know you're like... the Golden Boy and everyone always agrees with you and I'm just some horrible villain, but I'm not wrong!" Getting to his feet, Garret pounded a fist weakly on the table. "Because what you did was stupid, and foolish, and you put us in danger, and yourself in danger, and it... you just... completely without us! We could have helped. I've always helped you and saved you and now you're all... off being... independent! Like you don't even need me anymore. And you could be dead, and you lied to me about where you've been, and you're..." Growling, he finished off with a sigh. "I'm not... damnit. I love you. But I'm too mad at you to even look at you without wanting to... and I can't trust you, and... I just..." Another growl, hands raking in his hair. "I got shot in the face tonight! That could've been you!"
"I did what I thought I had to!" Rorie fired back. "I did what I had to to keep the people I love safe! You wanna fight and argue about who's right and wrong, pull that shit where I apparently don't need you, fine! Just remember who kept leaving!" He yelled. "You have just up and left so many times I can't rely on you to help me out because you leave! You want me to stop excluding you then stop leaving!" He cried, pounding on the table. "You can't trust me or look at me, how do you think I felt when you dumped me and told me you couldn't handle me and Mal and Max in a fuckin' note! You came back and begged me to take you back after everyone else left! What do you want from me Garret! You can't have it both ways!" He screamed, hitting the table hard enough to crack it now. "Every time this happens, you're not there to begin with, so why would I ask now?" He said, finally just saying it. "Because every time it gets hairy, I'm on my own so I have to figure it out on my own. That's why I didn't tell anyone," he said softly, stepping back and leaning against the wall.
Everything Rorie was saying was not only hurtful to hear, but completely true. Despite his reassurances, Garret couldn't be trusted to stick around. And he knew it. But he couldn't depend on Rorie either. The kid practically threw himself from one crisis to the next, how could Garret ever take him seriously as an adult? This instance was one of the few times Rorie had done something self sufficient, and it had been horrific.
"Stop hitting my table," he snapped, possibly more irritated now in the face of reality. He sighed, growling a little, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe this is it. You're right. If you can't trust me to stay, and I can't trust you at all, then what's the point." It felt so heavy even to say it, to consider it. "But I always did come back," he pointed out. "And tonight, with this... I threw you out of my house but I helped you, I fixed it. And if you'd fucking opened your mouth a week ago, we could have taken care of it then! It'd be done, and you wouldn't have someone else's blood on your hands. And I wouldn't have my own staining one of my best shirts." And he wouldn't have been shot in the head, but that was more his own fault than Rorie's.
Getting to his feet, he looked at Rorie. "You've never had to do it on your own," he said quietly. "Never. Because despite any time I left, and despite how stupid I thought the idea was, I've always helped you. Always. I brought Finn back because you needed him, and I helped you get away from him when he abused you, and I let you be around him even in spite of that because you wanted to have your brother, I bought you a house to get you out of your father's grip, I met the sonofabitch for you, even though I knew it was the worst fucking idea ever! You're having a kid, we're building an addition to the house in the spring! I have ALWAYS been there for you, Rorie, when you needed me. Always. So okay, fine, I run from commitment. Sometimes literally. But when the cards are down, I'm there. I've been there more than your own fucking brother has been there for you." Approaching Rorie, eyes burning with anger, Garret lowered his voice. "So don't you dare tell me that you can't depend on me. You signed yourself up for a life sentence with your father, and I got you out of it. Did you think he'd just keep you on as a pretty face, that it wouldn't consume your entire life and make you lose everything you love anyway?" Standing before the younger man now, face to face, Garret snorted derisively at him. The fury and adoration he had for this kid could barely be contained. "I fucking love you, you naive little shit."
Rorie stood there, listening and taking it all in. It sucked. Mostly because Garret was right and because he had no foot hold to argue with. Which just plain sucked. "I'm sorry," he said, finally when Garret was done. "I'm sorry that I didn't come to you first, that I thought I had to do this on my own." He wasn't sure what to do at this point. Kiss him? Wait for him to back off and then leave? They were still in different places and it seemed that it probably wouldn't be resolved tonight. He didn't count on being asked to stay or moved back in, so he resigned himself to that so it wouldn't hurt as much because he got his hopes up. "Thank you," he sighed. "For everything. For all the help. I probably didn't say it and needed to, so thank you." If he told Garret he loved him and would never stop he'd probably sound like an idiot and would hug him and not stop and then try to kiss him and right now. . . He needed to man up.
It was impossibly hard to remain angry with someone when they were being so damn agreeable. And the less Rorie argued, the angrier Garret got, but the more defeated he felt at the same time. Sighing, Garret groaned, deflating a little and resting his forehead against Rorie's. "I'm... so damn angry with you right now that it's hard not to just... punch you in the face. Or choke you, or something. I don't even want you around me right now." The anger and resentment and frustration would just build up the more they were together, and eventually it would burst and then Garret would do some real damage. He'd say something he didn't really mean or do something irrevocable and then that'd be the end of it.
"But take your ring, when you go. It's in the cabinet above the fridge. You're still my goddamn husband, God damnit." And he gave Rorie's lips a quick kiss, more to explain to himself that yes, this was his husband still and he couldn't be written off so easily. Garret had promised the long haul and he was going to do it. Stepping back, Garret looked over the younger man, and tried to remember why he loved him. His eyes, his stupid crazy hair, those spider-like fingers. All of it. "I'm gonna shower. See you on campus tomorrow, right?"
At least he still had the hotel room for a while. Liam was a monster, but he made sure that Rorie was taken care of. Everything was paid for, three meals from room service, the room, insurance in case something happened, if Rorie had grown up with that he wouldn't have minded one bit. The kiss, it did more than Garret thought. It made Rorie feel like that this wasn't a good-bye, it wasn't the end. It was just a short break. "Kay," he nodded as he took a breath.
Today was. . . Friday? Rorie wouldn't be back to campus till Monday. "I won't be back to campus till Monday. I don't have class till then," he said, hoping this wouldn't be another fight. God, he was tired of it and just wanted it to stop.
"Oh." It was all Garret could think to say. Space would be good, it would give him a chance to calm down, rethink things, maybe burn off some hate and then get around to deciding how it was that he could still be alive after getting a forehead full of lead. That might be something to mention to Hope, have her analyze him.
"Well. I'm on shift tomorrow from... I think two until ten." In case you felt like turning up on campus. Not that I'm encouraging you. But not that I'm discouraging either. "So... Monday, then." He paused, then turned to head upstairs. "Goodnight, Rorie."
"I don't have anything planned, so. . . I'll see you Monday," Rorie nodded as he watched Garret turn to go upstairs. Going to the cabinet, he got out his ring, but didn't put it on. Slipping it into his pocket, he headed out the door, not wanting to turn around and see if Garret was still standing there watching. Again, to avoid disappointment.
Finn was already gone, probably called a cab to go back to the school. It was late, almost midnight. Like hell he'd be sleeping anytime soon. Getting in her car, he started it up and drove off, not directly going back to his hotel. Just driving around because he needed to just be somewhere that wasn't Boston or Danvers right then.