Who: Ronnie & Marsh What:Visiting Ronnie’s mom. When: Present Where: Searchlight Cemetary Content: Mildly high for anxiety
I didn’t want you to see me like that..
When Ronnie had asked Marsh to join him at the cemetery he knew that the answer could never be no. He didn’t particularly have a problem with cemeteries. He recalled his fathers funeral and remembered not feeling particularly bothered by them. The parking break was pulled in his truck as he parked and he looked over at Ronnie with a soft smile. “You ready?” He asked the other man, pulling his seatbelt over his shoulder and opening the driver's door.
Marsh understood that this ceremony was important for Ronnie. He had worked with a lot of patience who were grieving and being able to talk to their loved ones, even if it was one-sided, was an important step to processing it.
“Yeah man,” Ronnie replied.
He looked fondly out of the window in the direction of the marbled pink headstone in the shape of a heart. It was the nicest one in the whole place, he made sure of that. Rose deserved so much and he wanted to make sure her legacy lived on even when she couldn’t be there. Flynn had told him once that Mama was there, that she was proud and was watching over him. He remembered sitting there on the porch of the house when his neighbor stopped by. He’d been grateful for the insight.
Few people had been invited to this place with him; Derek of course, Mikey, then Tal and now Marsh.
The seatbelt clicked against the plastic of the door. He threw the barrier open and swung out, then closed the door gently. “Come on. I want to introduce you.” With a wave of his hand, Ronnie took off for the spot he knew all too well.
Following Ronnie, he caught up and grabbed his hand. He’d never been to this cemetery but it seemed like a nice place and he was glad that Ronnie could go some place like this to visit his mom. “It’ll be an honor to meet her. I got to thank her for raising you.” He replied, offering a soft squeeze to Ronnie’s hand.
When they arrived at the grave Marsh wrapped his arm around Ronnie’s shoulder. Things were getting kind of serious with the other man and he found it was hard for him to keep his hands to himself. He liked the closeness they shared.
Fingers entwined, Ronnie did his best not to be too eager as they approached the large pink stone. “Hey Mama,” he greeted warmly. “This is Marsh, my….uh, friend…” Ronnie looked up at Marsh sheepishly then back down at the grass. They didn’t really put anything on what they were and so trying to call it something seemed wrong in that context. “Marsh is real good. Lives a few houses down and all. Works at Lucky’s.”
Usually he went there to chat. A lot of it was talking to himself unless he brought a friend. Tal never seemed to mind the way he chattered on when they visited together. Honestly, no one that visited with him had ever said anything at all about it.
Squinting a bit, Ronnie smiled proudly and looked up at Marsh again.
Marsh noted the way Ronnie skirted around calling their relationship anything specific. They hadn’t talked about that yet though some of the words they spoke suggested that it was something they both wanted.
“Hello there Mrs. Milam. It’s an honor to meet you. I'm very fond of your son.” He said to the gravestone. Hearing Ronnie say things like that about him made him feel warm inside. He couldn’t remember a time when someone supported him so fully.
Of course, Ronnie hadn’t been there when things got bad, not really and Marsh still didn’t know if showing this part of him would scare the other man off. “You raised a real good man.” He added, leaning over to press a small kiss to Ronnie’s cheeks.
In the distance he heard some teenagers messing around as the sun began to set on the cemetery.
Ronnie couldn’t help the flush of color and subsequent grin that blossomed at the compliment and the kiss. He did the best he could. Mikey used to tell him that he was just as special as those who had abilities because he had so many good attributes. He was finally beginning to believe it now that Marsh seemed to echo the same thoughts.
He wasn’t planning on staying in the cemetery for long; he could and had stayed hours on end just talking away, but he didn’t want to make Marsh stick around out here for ages.
“We just wanted to come by and say hello. See how you were doing and all. I have the same plans for the holiday right now as I always do, you know,” he told the headstone humbly. “Ain’t seen Pops around or heard from him. Probably a good thing.” That meant that Rocky wasn’t trying to kill him, at least, though it was a bit concerning.
Marsh didn’t know the man, but hearing from Ronnie the sorts of things he subjected his son to made Marsh all kinds of angry. He loosened his grip on Ronnie’s shoulder and let his hand gently fall to the small of his back. It was a good thing that he did because what came next could have led Marsh to seize Ronnie too hard and the last thing he had wanted was to hurt Ronnie.
The first thing he realized was that his leg was beginning to hurt and then the sound came. Like gunfire at a Wild West show, Marsh fell to his knees and clutched at his head. Memories filling that space like chickens in a coop, crowded and fighting for their lives.
The tears came next, almost on their own as he felt his air passages constrict and make his breathing labored.
Those damn kids and their fireworks.
Ronnie had not been expecting the sudden drop. He blinked, jaw snapping closed. His eyes widened. “Marsh!” Like the other man, Ronnie dropped to the ground with desperation. “Babe?”
His hands waved around the other man as if he were doing some sort of magic, though it was more reflexive in gesture because he wasn’t quite sure whatto do. He did take a breath. Both of them didn’t need to have a panic attack.
Gently he set a hand on Marsh’s elbow. “What can I do? You’re okay, I’m here.”
Words didn’t come, couldn’t come through the choked sobs and he wrapped his arms around himself to shut out the stimuli from the world outside of his own body. He wanted to tell Ronnie it would pass, wanted to help him navigate this thing but he couldn’t, not when it was going through it.
Shit. This was exactly what he was hoping wouldn’t happen, what he was trying to put off showing Ronnie and he had to do it at the damn grave site of his mother.
He tried to remember breathing exercises, focused on his breath and though it took a while he was able to come to and finally speak. “I didn’t want you to see me like that.” He admitted, firstly, because it wasn’t going to be easy to explain everything right off the bat.
A palm would graze Marsh’s back. Ronnie waited, not clinging or hugging just in case that could trigger anything. Instead he remained calm, doing his best to try to think of other calming things to do while this happened. If it got bad he would call for the ambulance but he wanted to give things a chance first.
When it seemed that Marsh was getting under control again, Ronnie emitted a heavy breath of relief. “Hey, hey, it’s fine. I'm just glad you’re okay.” That hand continued to brush down the length of Marsh’s back and back upward slowly. He wasn’t rushing Marsh, wouldn’t rush him.
He couldn’t ignore it at this point, couldn’t put off this story. He sighed and looked up at Ronnie, feeling drained. “I’m sorry that this happened in front of your mom.” He began, taking Ronnie’s other hand in his own and squeezing it.
“I never told you why I’m not a therapist anymore.” He began, looking down at their clasped hands, cringing as another flash of fireworks screeched outside. He began to shake.
“And the reason why I don’t shoot guns anymore.” If Ronnie didn’t run away after this, he doubted he ever would.
“Hey,” Ronnie began, shaking his head, “It’s okay. She likes you already, trust me on this one.” She would’ve loved Marsh to bits had she still been alive to actually meet him. He picked up on the loud sounds, too, and chalked this reaction up to some type of PTSD.
“Why don’t we go back to the truck and you can tell me, yeah? It’ll be more peaceful there and we can drown out the fireworks noises.” It wasn’t even time for fireworks. “We can go back to my place if you want. Or yours. Anywhere you feel safe and can relax.”
A nod of the head and he was utilizing the other man to lift himself off the ground. He didn’t need much but appreciated the help from Ronnie. Once they were up he nodded toward his truck and started to limp toward it. His leg did always act up when this happened, like it had its own memory.
It probably wasn’t the best time for him to drive so he fished his keys out of his pocket and handed them over to Ronnie. “You mind driving?” Even though he knew the answer would be yes, because that was the kind of man Ronnie was.
When they reached the truck he climbed into the passenger's seat and sat back to extend his leg.
All the way up Ronnie supported Marsh. He would’ve done it regardless, even if the other outweighed him. He remembered the leg and did his best to ensure that neither of them would topple over. “Nah, I don’t mind. Where do you wanna go?” Accepting the keys, he put them into a pocket and kept his focus on getting Marsh to the truck.
Each step was patient. He opened the passenger door for the other and only closed it when he was sure that Marsh was securely inside.
It was comical almost the way his feet didn’t quite touch the pedals. Ronnie laughed a bit to himself, stuck the keys into the ignition and buckled up. An adjusted seat later and they were easing politely out of the cemetery, back onto the road.
“You okay, babe? Need anything?”
“Mine.” He replied and leaned over to his center console where he kept his pain killers. He popped open the bottle before taking one out and chasing it with water from his cup holder. He knew how it looked, like he had a problem but the truth was he didn’t use them as often as it may have seemed.
“I’m alright, nothing I ain’t been through before.” That was his life, living with chronic pain and he had to deal with it one way or another. Ronnie was being so attentive and caring and Marsh was feeling bad about being such a burden on him. He knew this line of thought and he knew that it was going to take work to express himself.
As they began to drive, Marsh thought carefully about how he would say it. “This whole thing, my leg, my panic attacks, it’s all because of something that happened within the span of a therapy session.” The thing that changed the entire course of his life, all gone in the span of an hour.
“Yeah?” Ronnie looked a bit concerned. It wasn’t because of fear or anything, he was concerned about the impact that event was having on Marsh. He knew about Marsh’s leg long before they started getting closer. “You don’t have to tell me unless you just want to,” Ronnie explained. He glanced over at Marsh, reached out to touch gently at a hand, and then looked back at the road.
“I don’t think there’s really anything you can say to me that’s gonna freak me out.” He’d seen a lot of shit in his life so far and been through so much more. “But I’m here if you wanna tell me or get it off of your chest.”
They wouldn’t be too long before getting to Marsh’s place, and even then they could sit in the driveway for a spell.
Once they parked, Marsh reached over and grabbed at Ronnie’s hand. “Every muscle in my body is telling me to keep it from you.” He averted his eyes down at this next part. “But I need to tell you about this thing because it affects everything in my life.” He looked up now. “Because I want to be with you and I need you to know why I am the way that I am.”
His heartbeat was still hammering but he could feel in his face now. It was a confession that came soon but not soon enough in Marsh’s opinion.
Ronnie eased Marsh’s truck into the gravel driveway. He could feel the grit beneath the tires. Putting the truck into park, Ronnie took his foot off of the break and turned off the vehicle. It was then he felt the grip on his hand. Unbuckling the belt, he turned to face Marsh so he could focus better.
He frowned, brow furrowing. Did Marsh kill someone or something? Was he caught up in the mob? A lot of variations and hypotheticals went through his mind in a second but he knew that none of them were true. He would be fooling himself if he thought Marsh had done wrong in that capacity. He needed to listen, to really listen, before casting any net of judgement or response. So that was what he did.
“You can talk to me, honest. No judgement. I’m here for you whether you wanna be with me or not.” That was what friends did. He wanted things with Marsh to progress, too, but they wouldn’t if they couldn’t get past this together.
He offered a sad smile and nodded his head to Ronnie. “After my daddy died, the mom began to date again. She liked the rough type, real pieces of work who did all sorts of bad shit to her. That’s when I started carrying around guns, to keep us safe from her tastes.” His ‘father’ was the same way.
“I kept one in my office, a spare that I kept in a desk drawer in case one of them decided to show up at my work.” It had happened before and nothing made a rough guy leave like a gun in his face. He got good at shooting too, spending his weekends on the gun range in case he ever had to use it.
“I had this patient, paranoid schizophrenic. He was having an episode during one of our sessions and began to trash my office. Before I knew it he’d rifled through my desk and grabbed the gun from the drawer. I tried to stop him, tried to calculate his intentions by reading his mind but his mind didn’t work like most.” He sighed and looked down in his lap.
“He shot me in the leg and then shot himself in the head.” He couldn’t sleep for weeks after that, kept waking up sobbing as the memories cracked him open like an egg.
Ronnie listened to the details. He frowned a bit more. “Wow.” He shook his head slowly from side to side. “I’m sorry you went through that. It isn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known that would’ve happened.” Ronnie understood that Marsh could read minds but when you were in a time of high stress you could forget things. “That don’t make it better or go away, but still. The world can be a dark place. And you know I’m here for you. We don’t have to go anywhere loud unless you want to, and trust me that won’t upset me at all. I’m fine without fireworks and I can barely operate a gun. I have one but it’s hidden and for protection only but I can get rid of it if it makes you more comfortable.” Literally whatever Marsh needed that he could do, he would without question.
Marsh’s eyes went wide at the words of comfort, knowing full well he should have foreseen this because nothing in Ronnie’s head had ever told him otherwise. He pulled himself toward Ronnie and placed his other hand on the other man’s cheek. He pressed his lips against Ronnie’s, so gracious of having someone so supportive in his life.
As the kiss broke he leaned his forehead against Ronnie’s. “You know, you don’t have to call me a friend. I’d be happy to have you call me whatever you see fit.” Partner had a nice ring to it, but so did boyfriend. He realized this would be considered quick for most circumstances but maybe quick was alright. They’d known each other long enough and they clearly shared values.
“Darling.” He punctuated with a small smirk.
Ronnie fell easily into that kiss. They had probably kissed less than twenty times but he felt like they’d been doing it for ages. He couldn’t help the little bit of a grin left behind when the connection broke. Dark eyes would look up into Marsh’s. “You trying to get serious with me, Marsh?” He quipped playfully. These days people weren’t as much into labels or definitions. But he did like knowing where they stood in this connection. “Well I would like to be official if you wanna.” Gettin’ serious. “Plus I’m the old-fashioned type, I like knowing you’re mine and I’m yours. If boyfriend works I’m cool with that.” Maybe it was quick but then most of his relationships had been to some extent.
He pulled back to regard Ronnie and his smile grew. He still felt exhausted but the fight or flight sensation had subsided. He felt..comfortable, which had been a rare occurrence in his life. “Course I am.” He replied with a wink. Anyone would be crazy not to snag someone like him. He was everything you could want in a partner.
“That definitely works.” He pressed one more chaste kiss to Ronnie’s lips and finally pulled open the passenger door to go inside. Rudy would need to get outside by now and he didn’t want the dog scratching up the door like he was prone to do.
It was strange to him, being with someone else. Then again it had been a long while since he’d been with anyone. He didn’t get around at all. Marsh wanting to take things to the next level was exciting. “Nice.” A nod of his head and he found that he couldn’t stop grinning. Even with the kiss he smiled like a fool.
Following suit, Ronnie turned and swung the door open, climbing out of the driver's side. Boots on the ground, he closed the door and handed the keys back to Marsh. “Poor Rudy probably thinks we went on vacation or something.”
Getting his keys back from Ronnie, Marsh unlocked the door and the minute it opened Rudy ran out and began to run around the parking area. He chuckled a bit at that, keeping the door open for the dog to run back into once he was done. “He always thinks I’m on vacation.”
When he got inside he sat on his couch, laying back on it to extend his legs some more. The painkillers worked less and less these days but he refused to take more than was advised. He didn’t want to add drug addiction to the long list of things wrong with him.
He patted the spot next to him on the couch, hoping Ronnie might join him.
Seeing Rudy always brightened his day. Ronnie laughed and watched the animal run circles in the dust. “Man, I wish I had half of that energy.” He shook his head and smiled. Following Rudy into the trailer, Ronnie accepted that invitation on the couch once the door was secured. He plopped down. “Maybe you are always on vacation,” he added softly, then shrugged. “Dogs have it easy, man. I had a cat once…spoiled, and almost as bad as Rudy.” Rudy was not bad at all.
He chuckled sadly at that sentiment, the idea of always being on vacation. Marsh hadn’t truly been on a vacation in years and if he was honest, he was looking forward to their upcoming trip. “Rudy ain’t spoiled.” He protested, gently running his fingers through Ronnie’s hair. It was one of his favorite things about the other man.
“He’s just an only child to a single parent.” It was a joke, dog didn’t need more than one owner and he’d been there for Marsh when no one else had. “But he’s got some good friends so I think he’ll grow up to be a good boy.” He was teasing of course since Rudy was already a few years old.
“Yeah he will. He’s already a good boy.” Ronnie looked fondly at the kelpie. He smiled. Having an animal was a lot of responsibility; he had considered once or twice owning a dog since coming back to Searchlight but it had never happened. Then he’d gotten bitten by that one dog last year and that sucked.
“I always wanted a dog. Never found one I liked enough to bother with, but I love Rudy a lot.”
As if he understood, Rudy walked up to Ronnie and began to lick at his knees. Marsh patted the dog on the back and pushed his head away. It was cute, sure but there was no point in getting Ronnie’s pants soaked at the knees. God knew Rudy wouldn’t stop if no one told him so.