Welcome Home (Flynn, Quinn, Deirdre, Angus, Pauline)
Flynn could have done it on the phone. He could have, but he didn't want to. Instead he bundled Deirdre, Quinn, and Deirdre's children into one of Deirdre's roomier cars from Kait's motorcade, and he drove overnight. He hadn't been too sure about the babies, but Deirdre had insisted. They were demons. And hence, pretty impervious to harm. Still, Deirdre had to care for them in a small space (though she had least had the back seat to herself when Quinn wasn't helping her), and they had to make about twenty stops for dirty diapers. They took an early morning Cairnryan - Larne ferry, and arrived in Whitehead at about ten in the morning, after stopping for some food. Flynn didn't trust his parents to offer them nourishment. After all, they had kicked him out of his home when he was sixteen and left him to scrounge for his existence for six years.
The entire trip had taken about twelve hours and Flynn should have been exhausted, but he wasn't. He was terrified. Flynn hadn't stepped foot in Whitehead since he was sixteen years old. It was a small place, and though it was much changed, he found his way back to his childhood home very easily. He wasn't as worried about violence here anymore with Frankie and most of his friends in prison, and being friendly with Fable and Hamish. Flynn knew how things worked. By now, anyone here would know that hurting Flynn was a surefire way to piss Fable off. And no one wanted to then deal with her manwall, Hamish. They could be pretty sure of being safe. From everyone but Flynn's parents...
They hadn't called to announce their imminent arrival. Flynn felt it would go better if they didn't have the chance to say no. When they arrived, he sat in the driveway for a moment, feeling the twisting of his insides. And then Quinn's hand appeared on his arm and Deirdre smiled at him from the back seat and Flynn couldn't wait any more. He hefted himself out of the car and on up to the front door while Quinn helped Deirdre bundle the twins up.
The door was answered right away, and Flynn wasn't surprised. His parents had been inside, watching the activity in their driveway in paranoia, because that was the kind of people they were. They would have seen him walking up to the door. The fact that it was answered then...that was a good sign. And when the door opened, Flynn found himself face-to-face with his mother. "Malachy...?"
"Hello..." Flynn didn't know whether to call her Pauline or mother, so he simply didn't. "I...I have some-"
"Angus!" Pauline yelled to her husband. "Malachy came to visit!"
Flynn blinked and he heard his father grunt and mumble something unintelligible. He had to keep going, or he was going to chicken out here. "I want to tell you-"
"Come in, Malachy," Pauline said with a small smile. Then she looked behind Flynn and frowned. "Oh. Ardal's here."
"His name is Quinn now. He changed it," Flynn said, worried about how they would treat Quinn. "And the redhead is my best friend Deirdre. Can we all come in?"
Pauline looked put out, but she nodded absently and bustled off, leaving Flynn holding the door wide open. Quinn walked up to his fiance with Gabriel in his arms. "About what you expected, Bub?" Quinn asked carefully.
"Actually...that was friendlier than I expected," Flynn said with a sigh. He gave them both a thin smile and ushered Quinn and Deirdre into the house he had grown up in.
"Is this kind of a trip?" Deirdre asked, hefting Eiley higher up in her arms.
"Heh...I don't have words," Flynn muttered to her. He was back inside the house he had been forcibly ejected from. The house he hadn't set foot in since that night. And everything inside was exactly the same, save for the updated appliances. Everything was in it's place. It was slightly disturbing.
Pauline wandered back into the entry way and she clucked over the crowd of people who appeared there. "Into the living room, come on." She shooed them into the living room where Angus O'Reilly was sitting with a drink in his hands at ten in the morning. What a way to start off a Sunday. "Hi," Flynn repeated his greeting, not knowing what to refer to Angus as. "Uhm...you know Quinn. And this is my best friend Deirdre. She's...she's in the band with me."
"And she brought children," Pauline pointed out to her husband, sounding less than thrilled about it. Deirdre, who already hated Flynn's parents for what they had done to him, shot Pauline a death glare as she sat down beside Quinn on a lumpy sofa.
Flynn took a seat opposite his parents and he tried very hard not to be sick into his mouth. "I uhm...I wanted to come here because I have something to tell you..."
"You dyin' boy?" Angus said, without leaning forward. He didn't look like he would lose much sleep if Flynn was.
"N...no." Flynn sighed. Why had he decided it was important for him to tell them again? Staring at them now, he honestly couldn't remember. "I...Quinn and I are...we're... uhm." Flynn shifted. "We're...it's-"
Quinn watched Flynn carefully, his expression growing more and more worried. Quinn understood. Flynn was actually afraid of getting kicked out again. Now he had nothing to fear. He had a home and people who loved him. He was safe. To get kicked out of this house would have no lasting detriment to his way of life. But, perhaps, it would have a detriment to Flynn himself. "We're getting married, Mr and Mrs O'Reilly. Mal and I are getting married." Let them kick him out.
Flynn looked over at the man he loved and he lifted his lips in a small smile. He loved no one like he loved Quinn. "I wanted to tell you because you're my parents." And then Flynn added, "even if you don't act like them. I...I thought it would be important for you to know."
Pauline and Angus sat there in silence and Flynn wished he hadn't eaten so much for breakfast. He was absolutely sure he was going to vomit, until his mother said, in a strained and uncomfortable voice, "well congratulations, Malachy."
Flynn lifted his eyes to meet with hers. "You...don't really think that. I know you don't."
"I don't know what you want me to say, Malachy. You know how we feel about this."
Flynn let out a sigh, but he didn't look away. "About me being happy? I don't think you could possibly understand how happy Quinn makes me." And certainly Angus and Pauline hadn't made each other happy in years. Decades. Possibly ever. "I have a good life now. You know...despite your best efforts. And I...I wish I could share that with you!"
Angus glanced at Deirdre and then at her children. "The kids yours?"
"Are you even listening to me?!" Flynn hissed. "No they aren't mine! I'm in love with Quinn and I'm going to marry him. Argh, you're infuriating!"
Pauline stood and she moved into the kitchen. "I'll get tea," she said hastily. She didn't want to be around a heated situation.
"We hear you, Malachy," Angus promised. "We hear you. You want us to come to this...reception of yours?"
"Yes. Actually. I do," Flynn nodded. "I...I don't want to hate you any more!"
Quinn and Deirdre glanced at each other, both of them wondering if they could somehow slip out unnoticed. This situation didn't really concern them. They stayed put anyway, despite the discomfort.
"My life is wonderful," Flynn continued. "I'm so happy...I didn't know it was possible. I don't want for anything. I don't suffer. I don't fall asleep cold, hungry or lonely." Sometimes he had to fight and sometimes he was kidnapped by crazy demons and sometimes he lost people he loved. But considering what he had been through, he could take that as it came. "That isn't my life anymore, and the one thing that is left over from that horrible existence is my anger at you for putting me there! Please, just...can you just accept that I'm not perfect!?"
Pauline had re-entered the room, carrying a tea tray with a tea pot, three saucers and one teacup. She was terribly distressed by all of this. "Malachy..."
"I'm not living under your roof any more," Flynn said, turning to look at her. He was on the verge of tears, which almost never happened. This whole thing was too much. "I know you don't like that I'm in love with a man, but you can't kick me out for it again. I really just...I want you to come to the wedding. I want you...I want to talk to you sometimes. I want you to talk to me..."
"We didn't think you would ever contact us again after Frankie," Angus said, and Flynn looked at him, shocked. It was the first thing Angus had said that didn't sound like a very thinly veiled put-down. "We know he went after you, Malachy. And we're sorry for that."
"It's...it wasn't your fault," Flynn shrugged. "And he went to prison, so..." Not before beating Quinn up and trying to force Flynn to do terrible things to Tristan, therefore forcing Flynn to attack Frankie in anger. Flynn didn't like attacking people. "You know...he stopped being a threat."
"You're so polite," Pauline said, as if it was a shock.
"Heh..." Flynn turned red and Quinn had to stifle a laugh. Quinn had known Flynn when he was a hot-headed little thug who couldn't say a sentence without a swear word in it. And 'please' had not been in Malachy O'Reilly's vocabulary. "I uhm...grew up."
"If you want us...we'll come to your..."
"Wedding," Quinn helped.
"We'll come," Pauline nodded. "Malachy...we are sorry-"
That was all Flynn needed really. He jumped up from his seat and he grabbed the tray she had been holding for dear life. He stowed it away, and he hugged her tightly. Deirdre and Quinn watched from the sofa, smiling lightly to themselves. Flynn had been wanting this for years, and though he hadn't often said it out loud, both of them knew how much it would mean to him now.
"It's okay," Flynn muttered tearfully into his mother's collar. His father stood and joined the embrace and Flynn's arms moved to accommodate him. "It all turned out okay."
The entire trip had taken about twelve hours and Flynn should have been exhausted, but he wasn't. He was terrified. Flynn hadn't stepped foot in Whitehead since he was sixteen years old. It was a small place, and though it was much changed, he found his way back to his childhood home very easily. He wasn't as worried about violence here anymore with Frankie and most of his friends in prison, and being friendly with Fable and Hamish. Flynn knew how things worked. By now, anyone here would know that hurting Flynn was a surefire way to piss Fable off. And no one wanted to then deal with her manwall, Hamish. They could be pretty sure of being safe. From everyone but Flynn's parents...
They hadn't called to announce their imminent arrival. Flynn felt it would go better if they didn't have the chance to say no. When they arrived, he sat in the driveway for a moment, feeling the twisting of his insides. And then Quinn's hand appeared on his arm and Deirdre smiled at him from the back seat and Flynn couldn't wait any more. He hefted himself out of the car and on up to the front door while Quinn helped Deirdre bundle the twins up.
The door was answered right away, and Flynn wasn't surprised. His parents had been inside, watching the activity in their driveway in paranoia, because that was the kind of people they were. They would have seen him walking up to the door. The fact that it was answered then...that was a good sign. And when the door opened, Flynn found himself face-to-face with his mother. "Malachy...?"
"Hello..." Flynn didn't know whether to call her Pauline or mother, so he simply didn't. "I...I have some-"
"Angus!" Pauline yelled to her husband. "Malachy came to visit!"
Flynn blinked and he heard his father grunt and mumble something unintelligible. He had to keep going, or he was going to chicken out here. "I want to tell you-"
"Come in, Malachy," Pauline said with a small smile. Then she looked behind Flynn and frowned. "Oh. Ardal's here."
"His name is Quinn now. He changed it," Flynn said, worried about how they would treat Quinn. "And the redhead is my best friend Deirdre. Can we all come in?"
Pauline looked put out, but she nodded absently and bustled off, leaving Flynn holding the door wide open. Quinn walked up to his fiance with Gabriel in his arms. "About what you expected, Bub?" Quinn asked carefully.
"Actually...that was friendlier than I expected," Flynn said with a sigh. He gave them both a thin smile and ushered Quinn and Deirdre into the house he had grown up in.
"Is this kind of a trip?" Deirdre asked, hefting Eiley higher up in her arms.
"Heh...I don't have words," Flynn muttered to her. He was back inside the house he had been forcibly ejected from. The house he hadn't set foot in since that night. And everything inside was exactly the same, save for the updated appliances. Everything was in it's place. It was slightly disturbing.
Pauline wandered back into the entry way and she clucked over the crowd of people who appeared there. "Into the living room, come on." She shooed them into the living room where Angus O'Reilly was sitting with a drink in his hands at ten in the morning. What a way to start off a Sunday. "Hi," Flynn repeated his greeting, not knowing what to refer to Angus as. "Uhm...you know Quinn. And this is my best friend Deirdre. She's...she's in the band with me."
"And she brought children," Pauline pointed out to her husband, sounding less than thrilled about it. Deirdre, who already hated Flynn's parents for what they had done to him, shot Pauline a death glare as she sat down beside Quinn on a lumpy sofa.
Flynn took a seat opposite his parents and he tried very hard not to be sick into his mouth. "I uhm...I wanted to come here because I have something to tell you..."
"You dyin' boy?" Angus said, without leaning forward. He didn't look like he would lose much sleep if Flynn was.
"N...no." Flynn sighed. Why had he decided it was important for him to tell them again? Staring at them now, he honestly couldn't remember. "I...Quinn and I are...we're... uhm." Flynn shifted. "We're...it's-"
Quinn watched Flynn carefully, his expression growing more and more worried. Quinn understood. Flynn was actually afraid of getting kicked out again. Now he had nothing to fear. He had a home and people who loved him. He was safe. To get kicked out of this house would have no lasting detriment to his way of life. But, perhaps, it would have a detriment to Flynn himself. "We're getting married, Mr and Mrs O'Reilly. Mal and I are getting married." Let them kick him out.
Flynn looked over at the man he loved and he lifted his lips in a small smile. He loved no one like he loved Quinn. "I wanted to tell you because you're my parents." And then Flynn added, "even if you don't act like them. I...I thought it would be important for you to know."
Pauline and Angus sat there in silence and Flynn wished he hadn't eaten so much for breakfast. He was absolutely sure he was going to vomit, until his mother said, in a strained and uncomfortable voice, "well congratulations, Malachy."
Flynn lifted his eyes to meet with hers. "You...don't really think that. I know you don't."
"I don't know what you want me to say, Malachy. You know how we feel about this."
Flynn let out a sigh, but he didn't look away. "About me being happy? I don't think you could possibly understand how happy Quinn makes me." And certainly Angus and Pauline hadn't made each other happy in years. Decades. Possibly ever. "I have a good life now. You know...despite your best efforts. And I...I wish I could share that with you!"
Angus glanced at Deirdre and then at her children. "The kids yours?"
"Are you even listening to me?!" Flynn hissed. "No they aren't mine! I'm in love with Quinn and I'm going to marry him. Argh, you're infuriating!"
Pauline stood and she moved into the kitchen. "I'll get tea," she said hastily. She didn't want to be around a heated situation.
"We hear you, Malachy," Angus promised. "We hear you. You want us to come to this...reception of yours?"
"Yes. Actually. I do," Flynn nodded. "I...I don't want to hate you any more!"
Quinn and Deirdre glanced at each other, both of them wondering if they could somehow slip out unnoticed. This situation didn't really concern them. They stayed put anyway, despite the discomfort.
"My life is wonderful," Flynn continued. "I'm so happy...I didn't know it was possible. I don't want for anything. I don't suffer. I don't fall asleep cold, hungry or lonely." Sometimes he had to fight and sometimes he was kidnapped by crazy demons and sometimes he lost people he loved. But considering what he had been through, he could take that as it came. "That isn't my life anymore, and the one thing that is left over from that horrible existence is my anger at you for putting me there! Please, just...can you just accept that I'm not perfect!?"
Pauline had re-entered the room, carrying a tea tray with a tea pot, three saucers and one teacup. She was terribly distressed by all of this. "Malachy..."
"I'm not living under your roof any more," Flynn said, turning to look at her. He was on the verge of tears, which almost never happened. This whole thing was too much. "I know you don't like that I'm in love with a man, but you can't kick me out for it again. I really just...I want you to come to the wedding. I want you...I want to talk to you sometimes. I want you to talk to me..."
"We didn't think you would ever contact us again after Frankie," Angus said, and Flynn looked at him, shocked. It was the first thing Angus had said that didn't sound like a very thinly veiled put-down. "We know he went after you, Malachy. And we're sorry for that."
"It's...it wasn't your fault," Flynn shrugged. "And he went to prison, so..." Not before beating Quinn up and trying to force Flynn to do terrible things to Tristan, therefore forcing Flynn to attack Frankie in anger. Flynn didn't like attacking people. "You know...he stopped being a threat."
"You're so polite," Pauline said, as if it was a shock.
"Heh..." Flynn turned red and Quinn had to stifle a laugh. Quinn had known Flynn when he was a hot-headed little thug who couldn't say a sentence without a swear word in it. And 'please' had not been in Malachy O'Reilly's vocabulary. "I uhm...grew up."
"If you want us...we'll come to your..."
"Wedding," Quinn helped.
"We'll come," Pauline nodded. "Malachy...we are sorry-"
That was all Flynn needed really. He jumped up from his seat and he grabbed the tray she had been holding for dear life. He stowed it away, and he hugged her tightly. Deirdre and Quinn watched from the sofa, smiling lightly to themselves. Flynn had been wanting this for years, and though he hadn't often said it out loud, both of them knew how much it would mean to him now.
"It's okay," Flynn muttered tearfully into his mother's collar. His father stood and joined the embrace and Flynn's arms moved to accommodate him. "It all turned out okay."