The Truth You Hide From Everyone by carnivalwheel,Britt,James,Lenore,Kato,& Britt's Mom,M11U, PG-13
Title: The Truth You Hide From Everyone
Author: carnivalwheel
Word Count: 1205
Rating: PG-13 (Just to be safe)
Type: Gen
Universe: M11U
Characters/Pairings: Britt, James Reid, Kato, Lenore, and Britt’s mom
Genres: Family/KidFic, General fic all around.
Warnings: A couple of bad words because I quote Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl”.
Summary: When he was younger, Britt Reid’s hero was his father. Where there are bad memories, there are good ones too.
AN: I was watching the Green Hornet marathon yesterday and this idea got away from me, no joke. It was suppose to be a sequel to “The Writer”, but it didn’t exactly work out like that and 300 words turned into 1,000 quickly. *If you see mistakes please tell me and I will fix as needed.
Britt tries to forget the good times. The nights he would sit on his father's lap as his father read the evening papers. Britt's lips would try to sound the words, trying to make sense of the writing.
"You done?" His father's voice would come from above him and Britt would tilt his head back to stare at him.
"Yes, sir," He would reply in a small voice every time, not wanting to make his father wait for him. James would nod at him and flip to another page, " I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to read this one out loud."
His father's voice is deep as he reads each article on the page. The sound comforts Britt and makes him sleepy. He curls closer when his eyes start to flutter shut.
Sometimes, his mom would catch the two of them curled up together in that old large wingback chair and smile.
--
"...who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy!"
"Britt!" his mother screams, clapping a hand over his mouth, and pulling him from the group of people.
"You're going straight to bed," she hisses at him when they reach the study. She'll regret the yelling in the morning, hug him and say she's sorry, but right now she's angry. The ballroom is full of people who sponsor the newspaper and she has to keep up appearances.
There's a knock on the heavy wooden doors and his father pokes his head into the room a few moments later. "Everything alright?"
His mother tells him what happened in a hushed tone and Britt uses the time to stare at his new shoes. They're tight and they hurt his feet, but he doesn't dare complain. James tells her that he will take care of it and ushers her out. He turns to look at Britt for a long moment and shakes his head.
"If you're going to start something, you might as well finish. Without an ending, Britt, the story doesn't have meaning."
Then, his father picks him up and throws him over his shoulder. It makes Britt giggle and squirm, and James laugh at his weak attempt to get free.
"Who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love," he continues where he left off as his father carries him up the stairs.
When he forgets some of the lines, his father is more than happy to help him out.
-
The typewriter is a gift from his father.
Britt loves the painted keys and the way it clicks when he reaches the end of a line on the page. He loves the gray color of the metal it's made out of and the way his fingers feel when he hits the keys. It makes him feel like a famous mastermind when he uses it to type a poem or story.
His mom rolls her eyes when she sees it, lightly hitting her husband on the chest. "I don't understand you, James. He's just a little boy, he doesn't need a typewriter."
His dad shakes his head, "Reids are writers, it's in his blood. Right, Britt?"
"Right!" He nods his head, his curls spring free from the top of his head, falling across his forehead.
"I thought you wanted to be a superhero," His mother says and pushes a stray curl from his forehead.
"Every hero needs a day job, Mom. Right Dad? ," Britt tells her in a matter of fact voice and his father nods in agreement.
His mom responds by throwing her hands up into the air. "I will never understand you Reids."
By the time Britt's birthday rolls by again, his mom is gone and his dad has found comfort in work and a couple of cheap bottles.
---
“Read it back to me,” his father says with a hand over his face. He sounds worn down from time and age. Britt feels more like a burden to his father lately, but when
“ ‘There will come a day, that you will regret your actions’ the man told him, but the ranger did not flinched at the harsh words. Instead he told the man before him no. Everything he did was without regret. If you regret, you block the truth from your mind…” His dad’s lips twitch into a small smile because Britt has read him this story at least four times already and he can recite the line perfectly himself . “..And if death comes from the truth, so be it. For without the truth, there would be no story….”
It’s the last time Britt ever feels like his dad is proud of him because a few months later he gets a letter telling him he didn’t win the contest, but his entry was appreciated and he should enter again next year. He doesn’t and instead he tucks each piece away.
Years later though, when Britt is rummaging through one of his father’s desk drawers, he finds one of the yellow stained copies of it. His father’s writing in the margins.
Britt stares at the pages for at least an hour, reading his father's notes over and over again, before he tucks it back into the drawer for safe keeping.
---
His mind has the keys memorizes from years of using the old machine. The words come just as easy as the fingers hitting the keys.
There’s a knock on the study’s doors and Britt makes sure he moves the machine off of the desk. This is going to be one last surprise for Kato and Lenore because pretty soon Britt’s going to get caught. Lenore has been clip out his anonymous articles and even Kato has gotten more cautious on missions, making sure there is no reporters lurking in the shadows of a dark alley.
“Come in,” Britt calls for them and they enter Lenore in her pretty white evening gown with Kato in a tux. Tonight, the two of them are all smiles. It makes Britt smile too because he’s happy that they’re happy, even though he hates these formal parties.
“What are doing in here?” Kato asks, looking around the room like someone is holding him hostage in the room, but he finds nothing and directly at Britt again.
“You know,” he coughs as he stands up, “just chillin’.”
“You’re such a dork,” Lenore says and rolls her eyes. She makes sure that her earrings are secure on her ears. When she’s done, she resumes her position on Kato’s arm and extents the other arm for Britt.
They walk out of the study arm and arm towards the ballroom full of rich sponsors that they have to impress. They’ll drink and laugh because tomorrow night the Green Hornet will be out fighting crime. And Kato and Lenore will maybe share a few dances while Britt watches from a distance. If he’s lucky, maybe he’ll get a slow dance with the mastermind himself.
The typewriter will be waiting for him when he gets back. In the meantime, he’ll being thinking of a way to end the first of the Green Hornet novels.