Finn Callum McMillan (startmyownfires) wrote in bumpinthenigt, @ 2012-11-28 10:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | 08.28.12, finn, finn & maggie, maggie |
I Wanna Feel Useful
Who: Finn and Maggie
What: Awkward discussions
When: 8.28.12, Afternoon
Where: McMillan House
Warning: Language (by default when Finn is involved)
Par for the fucking course, Finn had slept like shit once he had even managed to fall asleep after coming in from work. There were too many goddamn thoughts and too much goddamn fire. Both of the things routinely invaded his dreams, sparking and snapping and growling. There was always something he couldn’t fucking do, someone he couldn’t manage to fucking save, and it almost made sleep as much of a hassle as being awake. So he had eventually just given up, gotten up and sequestered himself in the basement, pacing for the most part, though he occasionally fiddled with the wooden bookcase he had started once upon a time for Margot. Christ. The whole goddamn thing was bowed and swayed in a strange way, but he did keep working at it. When it was done, he planned to set it on fire and watch as it went up in smoke and was reduced to ashes. Then he could clear it out and start on the next project on the massive to do list in his mind.
Speaking of that to do list, Finn sighed heavily and pushed a hand through his hair, eyes on the ceiling. Yeah. There was still that discussion to have with Maggie, though he didn’t know if it was necessary. Jimmy seemed to act that way, and he could understand it to a degree. On the other hand, though, he thought it was complete and utter bullshit. Rock and a hard place, story of his life.
He would have called Jimmy to try and bitch it out, but he really didn’t feel like getting into that goddamn fight again even if over the phone was much safer for everyone involved except the piece of shit phone. Piece of shit phones were easy to replace, though. Friends were a lot more costly. After another sigh, he shrugged, grabbed a shirt to slip on over his tank top and then headed up the stairs. Knowing Maggie, she was probably in the kitchen or fussing over something in one room or another, making the place a little more homey with every day she was there.
“Maggie May,” he called out when he reached the top step, pushing the door open and looking around for her.
Maggie was in the living room, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. She’d tidied pretty much every room in the house, and now she was tackling the things she hadn’t felt confident enough to touch at first. Like his music collection. She’d spent time watching him hunt for cds that he wanted to listen to but couldn’t find, and she’d had enough. So now she was surrounded by piles of cds of different heights, as she tried to alphabetize them all. She was almost done sorting them, she just needed to put them all back on the shelves.
“In here,” she called out softly, without looking up. She didn’t flinch when he raised his voice now - she was starting to learn that it didn’t mean trouble. Didn’t mean she was going to be hurt. She looked up when he walked into the room, skirt spread out around her, pile of cds in her lap, her hair tied back out of her face. “Did you need something?” She set the cds aside, moving as if to stand.
Finn moved toward her voice and into the living room, stopping when he saw the tidy little stacks all over the place. Well, now, that shouldn't have been completely unexpected. A smile quirked at the side of his mouth even as he shook his head and surveyed the tidying in progress. It didn't matter how much he told her that she didn't fucking have to do anything, she just kept doing it. Thanks to the conversation he'd had with Rand and Umi, it didn't make Finn as uncomfortable as it had before, but he still ended up feeling like a lazy, ungrateful ass. "Sweetheart, you don't have to do this. I know you know that." And then he passed a hand over his face. "Thank you, though. This will make things a hell of alot easier to find."
Rubbing his hands together, he looked at the floor and paced a small circle around the recliner before perching on the arm facing her. "Look. I wanted to talk to you about what Jimmy and I were arguing about the other day. If this is an okay time for you." Christ fuck. He did not want to have this discussion today or any other fucking day, but it needed to be done. It at least needed to be broached. That way he could tell Jimmy he'd told Maggie about it, and they were both telling the detective to shove the suggestion up his ass.
Maggie waved a hand dismissively when he told her she didn’t need to do anything. She liked feeling useful. His thank you made her blush a little, smiling happily. “You’re welcome,” she murmured. “I know I don’t need to. I just like everything being all tidy. And I wanna feel useful.” She wasn’t feeling brave enough to go back to work, even with the restraining order that Detective Martin had gotten for her. It kept her father away from her, away from her work, but she didn’t quite trust it. Not yet.
She took a deep breath when he started talking about the argument, teeth catching at a patch of dry skin on her lip, her fingers curling into the hem of her skirt. “Only if you want to,” she murmured softly. “You don’t need to tell me.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, in truth. She had a feeling that she had been the reason they’d argued. She didn’t want to come between Finn and his friends, didn’t want to make life more difficult for him.
Useful. The word probably shouldn't have made his jaw tighten and a tongue of flame curl through his heart, but it did because the fact that she wanted to be useful seemed to imply that she thought there was the potential that she could be useless. And that sort of thinking he would blame on her fucking, damned to hell parents. Even if Finn couldn't find a use for most people, that didn't mean they were without one. All it meant was that he couldn't see it so they needed to get out of his face as fast as possible. "You're not a tool to be used, darling, but if it makes you happy, knock yourself out."
He might not know what the hell to do when she was upset, but he was at least learning some of the signs, the way her voice would drop and she might fidget or curl. It was something at least. And, shit, she didn't need to worry about making his life difficult. His life had always been difficult. Finn wouldn't have known how to fucking react if everything was smooth sailing. He probably would have drank himself to death from boredom. "Well. That's the thing," he started, "I might actually sort of need to tell you because it kind of involves the case and everything Jimmy's working on."
Fuck. This was going to be hard. "Jimmy mentioned that it might not be the best thing for you to stay here," he said, rushing the words out so fast that he wasn't sure if she would be able to discern them although he hoped she could because he really didn't wanna have to say that shit again.
Maggie looked at him, her heart dropping. “...Oh.” She said, eventually, looking down at her hands. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t. Crying made Finn all awkward and guilty-looking, and she didn’t want to do that. She’d known this wasn’t a permanent solution, had heard the whispers when she’d gone to church with Finn’s mom, what people were saying about him. “I’ll um, I can go stay with George. He-he offered when I went in to get my wages.” She nodded, lips a thin line as she tried not to cry. “Do you...” Her lower lip wobbled, and she looked up, blinking. “When do you want me to leave?” She asked softly.
And, yeah, he was doing a shite job when it came to trying to explain this. The look on her face told him that. When he was brave enough to look over at her. Then he felt like even more of a jackass than before, especially when she started talking. Finn rubbed his hands together, watching them instead of her because he'd seen enough there. He'd seen the hurt and the almost tears. The crying was something he didn't know how to fucking handle even when it made sense.
Christ. The thought that she thought that he wanted her to leave was fucking intolerable to hear. And while she might say that George was okay, Finn didn't really trust the guy. He hadn't given him a reason not to, but. Well. Fuck. He wasn't sure what it was. He didn't like the thought of her staying there. "Maggie May, I don't want you to leave. I just don't want this," he gestured with one hand, "to make putting your fucking parents away more difficult than it needs to be. Which is what I'm afraid of. I think it's a goddamn stupid idea." Then he looked at her. "But they need to be fucking punished. Not just by god, sweetheart. That's too goddamn slow. I'm not going to stand in the way of them getting what they deserve. I'm not going to do anything that screws that up."
“Please don’t make me leave,” Maggie whispered, looking down at her lap, flinching as if she expected him to yell, to lash out. She didn’t even care if it caused trouble for the case, if it made a difference to whether or not her parents were put away. Living here, she felt safe. For the first time in her entire life. She couldn’t give that up. “I don’t want to, I don’t care if-if it makes things harder,” she shook her head. “Please, Finn...” she shifted closer, kneeling almost at his feet, her hands on his knees. “Please don’t make me go.”
Finn certainly wasn't gonna fucking yell at her. He might call up Jimmy and yell at him when this conversation was over and done with, but he sure as shit wasn't going to be taking it out on Maggie. Jimmy was used to him by now, and he'd know how this talk was gonna go down. How it was gonna made everything fucking insane and terrible. How much Finn didn't want her to leave because he couldn't protect her somewhere else.
Her words, which sounded so like begging, twisted a knife in his heart. Now he really couldn't fucking bear to look at her because he was pretty sure that she would be crying. Eyes shut and hands clenched together, he took a breath and let it out slowly. "Maggie," he said and then stopped because what the hell was he supposed to say?
Opening his eyes, he looked at her and unclenched one hand, reaching out to run it over her hair. "Sweetheart, I don't want you to leave. I just." Shit, shit, shit. "You don't have to go. Of course you don't have to go." And now he was going to be an asshole again. "But you might want to think about it just to make sure." Christ. Jimmy was going to hang him up by his fucking thumbs. Assuming that he didn't do it himself before his friend got the chance. "I mean, you can stay with my mom if you want. Or with Umi and Rand. Or." And then he was fucking out of suggestions of places he thought were safe enough.
She wasn’t crying, not quite yet. Her eyes were welling up though, as she leant into the soft stroke of his hand over her hair. She shook her head, jaw set. “I don’t need to think about it,” she told him stubbornly. “I’m not leaving.” She didn’t want to, and unless Finn made her, she wouldn’t. Umi had been lovely, but Rand scared her. He was big and tall and didn’t talk much. She mostly tried to stay out of his way, and she couldn’t imagine feeling relaxed in his house. Especially not with Umi fussing the way she had when they’d had dinner together.
Finn was completely the type to make people do things, but only if he thought those things were the best for them. And it typically only applied to fucking morons who apparently couldn't manage to watch over themselves properly like the rookies or his kids. Or his brother sometimes when they went out drinking. Actually any of the guys when they went out drinking with him because Finn could put away a whole goddamn lot of alcohol before his better judgment was impaired so even when he was three sheets to the fucking wind, he was still watching over other people's asses in the unkindest way possible. He was certain he had saved Rico's dick from the syphilis at least two times by now.
And this. Well. He wasn't convinced that making Maggie move somewhere else with people she wasn't comfortable with and into a situation she didn't know was what was best for her. Even if it might be better for the case. Fuck. This was all cocked up.
"Okay, Maggie May," he said, leaving his hand where it was, trying not to think of what would happen if her parents walked away scott free. He'd have to burn those fuckers down, he knew, but he'd have back-up. "Okay." The hardest part would be breaking the news to Jimmy.
Maggie relaxed a little, managing a shaky smile as he agreed. He wouldn’t make her leave. Wouldn’t make her go anywhere. Thank God for that. She wouldn’t say that out loud of course; Finn tended to get all twitchy when she was more overtly religious around him. Hands still resting on his knees, she leant in, resting her cheek against his thigh, just above her fingers. “Thank you,” she whispered, leaning against him. She wanted to hug him, wanted to be more affectionate but he didn’t like it when she did that, either.
The god talk did bother him, but it was mostly because Finn couldn't understand how Maggie could go through all the shit that she had in her life and still believe, still trust that cosmic asshole in the sky. He had no doubt that the main man was up there; he just didn't think he was tending too well to people anymore. Hell. When was the last time some shithead got properly smited? It seemed like it was always the good people who were getting the short end of the stick, and that just royally pissed him off.
The touching thing he just didn't know how to goddamn well react. It wasn't anything he was trained for. It wasn't in him to be all that affectionate, and it always threw him off when other people were. So he had no idea what to do when she settled her head on his leg. The first thought that jumped, unbidden, into his asshole, sewer mind was how close she was to his crotch. There was no question. He was going straight to fucking hell.
Finn tensed up for about thirty seconds before stroking her hair again, his hand lingering on her shoulder for a moment before he pulled it away and crossed both arms very awkwardly over his chest. "Save the thank yous until we see how it plays out, Birdie. I just don't want to be making the wrong fucking call." Again. Over and over and over again. He was one goddamn broken record of disaster, but there was no way in hell he could ask her to leave now whether it was for the best or not.
Maggie closed her eyes as he stroked her hair, almost curling up at his feet. It was easier not to think when he was touching her, easier to pretend like she wasn’t scared. Being close to him made her braver, gave her the courage to stand up for herself a little more. She sighed softly, lifting her head a little when he stopped, folded his arms. She sat back, cheeks flushing faintly as she pulled her hands back. He was uncomfortable. “Sorry,” she murmured, folding her hands in her lap.
And now he was just going and making everything all goddamn awkward for the both of them. Finn rubbed a hand over his face into his hair and shifted slightly. "No, no. Don't apologize. You're fine." What the hell was he supposed to do now? "Look. Let's do something." Something not awkward and weird like him stroking her hair while she rested her head on his lap because that couldn't make him look like a fucking perv at all.
"We could get ice cream or a movie or there's always shopping." He cringed at the last suggestion, but girls liked ice cream and movies and shopping, didn't they? That would make her happy, wouldn't it? After everything he had just fucked up, he wanted to make her happy. At least for a little bit.
“Um,” Maggie looked around at the piles of cds. “How about we watch a movie here?” She suggested. She didn’t really feel like going out. Not after the conversation they’d just had. “W-we could order take-out for dinner? You said we could try that Vietnamese place” Maggie had pretty much never had take-out. Trying out different foods she’d never had was like heaven for her. And it never failed to cheer her up. Finn had worked that out already; it wasn’t hard to see the way she lit up at the thought of new kinds of cuisine.
Thank fucking Christ. The idea of going out and having to deal with a world full of punks and assholes after that conversation on top of everything else happening had not been thrilling in the goddamn least. Finn nodded, his eyes following hers to the stacks of CDs. "Want me to help you with these first? I'm not the smartest person in the world by a goddamn long shot, but I know the order of the alphabet." He'd just never bothered before because it seemed like a potential giant waste of his time. "Any movie ideas? I've got, well, stuff," he said, waving a hand toward the DVDs. Who knew what the hell was there. He impulse bought shit all the time.
“Um...” Maggie hesitated. It was Finn’s house, Finn’s cds...but she actually really didn’t want him to help. Mostly because she’d spent a while organising it, and she didn’t entirely trust him not to screw it up. “No, it’s okay, it won’t take me long,” she said, grabbing the first pile and starting to tidy them away. “Do you want to order food while I do this? Then we can pick a film while we’re waiting for dinner...” That way she didn’t have to make any decisions about food, and she could finish what she’d started with his music collection.
If it hadn't been Maggie, Finn would almost have felt like he had just been told to shoo and make himself busy elsewhere so he wouldn't be underfoot. As it was, he quirked an eyebrow at her, something almost like a smile on his face before he shrugged. "That sounds fine," he said as he got up, stepping carefully around here and the piles of CDs as he made his way back to the kitchen. And if he paced around the kitchen a few times, well, who could fucking blame him. "Vietnamese then. I think you'll like it." So far Maggie had pretty much liked anything they got, which was a goddamn relief to him because he didn't have to cook badly or feel like a piece of shit while she did all the cooking and cleaning and all those other things that wives and girlfriends did. And, yeah, shouldn't be fucking thinking of her in that context. That was the shit that would get him in major trouble, especially if Jimmy caught wind.
In her own careful way, that was exactly what Maggie was doing. She wasn’t rude enough to actually shoo him away from the cds, but the intent was definitely there, under the surface. Smiling softly, she got to her feet as he did, moving back over to the first pile of cds, picking her way through all of them. She started stacking them back on the shelves, one ear on Finn moving around in the kitchen, feeling hyper-aware of him as always. At first it had been through nerves, through not being sure of him, of the situation. Now though, it made her feel better to know where he was, what he was doing. She just wanted him to be relaxed, happy, and she’d do anything she could to help him feel good. And if that meant tidying his house, keeping it running smoothly for him while he was at work, she could do that no problem.
Finn had never and would never be what anyone would ever call fucking subtle so a lot of that shit just blew right by him. Maybe that was why he had such a hard goddamn time figuring out what to do when women were upset. People got hurt, and he wanted something to punch, something to set on fire, something to threaten. He didn't know how to heal whatever was hurt, but he knew how to fuck up whatever might have caused the pain. That was his strength lay even now that he was getting up in years.
Order placed he grabbed a glass out of the cabinet, added a handful of ice cubes and then poured whiskey over them. It wouldn't stay cold. None of his drinks ever did, but it was nice to at least try for a little bit. "The food should be here in about thirty minutes, they said. Any idea what you want to watch?" he asked, keeping his distance and watching as Maggie made short work of the scattered and newly organized CDs.
Finishing stacking everything away, Maggie shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she murmured, smoothing her skirt down as she stood. “What do you feel like watching?” As always, Maggie was happy as long as Finn was happy. And a few hours curled up on the couch next to him with dinner and a movie sounded like a just about perfect evening, as far as she was concerned. She didn’t have to worry about anything for a couple of hours, could pretend like everything was just fine. Pretend like she was normal, for a change.