Reluctant Hero
Chapter Wordcount: 942
It had only lasted a month.
A long, completely too complicated month.
It started out wonderful enough. Riding on the high of everyone finally being in happy relationships.
Granted, he was completely uncomfortable in this new polished clean skin, felt like he was back under his parents’ roof, under his father’s thumb. But she seemed pleased at the one-eighty turn around.
And in the beginning, that was good enough.
After the first week he put the lip stud back in. Strictly because he was going nuts after so many years of having it in and playing with it with his tongue like a bad habit, like the biting his nails that he had turned to as an outlet without it.
And really, his nails were starting to look pretty ragged.
He saw the surprise in her eyes when he showed up to work that day, hair still flat, clothes still plain, but with this silver stud sticking out. But she has smiled, kissed him good morning and went on working, so he really didn’t think much about it.
The khakis disappeared next, being replaced with jeans and cargo shorts, and the button up shirts lost their sleeves, became more comfortable.
The second week, second great week, he slipped out of bed in the morning, careful not to wake her and went to the bathroom to piss.
When he opened the medicine cabinet to grab his toothpaste he noticed his eyeliner was gone. Wondering if he left it out someplace he glanced around the counter, only to find it in the small wastebasket.
Broken in two.
That weekend he was starting to get a little…twitchy, even if he didn’t realize it. Some of his posters had been mysteriously taken down and “put safely in your closet babe.” By the time he came home, his hair coloring had vanished and he had been given some excuse about expiration dates.
Did hair dye even have expiration dates?
Saturday morning during her shower he busted out his nail polish. Not really intent on painting his nails, it just gave him something to do with his hands while he watched cartoons and waited for her to get out.
She was rubbing a towel through her hair, other hand holding a second closed around her chest when she walked behind the couch and stopped dead.
“What are you doing?”
“Just killing time,” he said, craning his head backwards to smile at her, “Don’t worry, I’ll take it off before we go to work.”
“Good,” she said, short and sweet and resumed drying her hair, walking back to the bedroom.
His head fell forward slowly and he thinks at that moment he knew.
Even if he didn’t want to admit it.
***
Another week later he walked into Beach City Grill hair a fuck-off shade of red and straight up, silver looped through his ears, with a shirt that read ‘No Food After Midnight’ and Trucker just knew.
Instead of the customary throwing of the apron Trucker clutched it in his hand and walked slowly over to Priestly, pulling him into a one armed hug, not releasing him until Priestly clapped his hand on his back.
And that was that.
Piper made an effort to be extra ridiculous that day. Jen blew off lunch with Fuzzy just to hang around, finally sneaking a kiss to his cheek when he wasn’t expecting it. But no one asked.
No one ever would.
And Tish never came back.
Life went on.
***
Two months later and the mohawks had tamed down. They weren’t as flamboyant as their pre-Tish levels, but there was still a new color at least every week and spikes if nothing else.
All the piercings were back, except the nose. Nail polish came and went. The clothes were a bit more subdued. No more kilts or pants with so many straps a bondage freak would pop a boner. No more combat boots that laced up to his knees.
Just his ankles.
But the shirts were still there. His middle finger to the world. His silent way of saying ‘you will not change me.’
And really, everybody else at Beach City Grill had always loved them. They made them laugh, started conversations about who really did sell crack to the CIA. Or who pissed on the pope.
At the end of those two months is when she came.
Blew into the joint much the way Piper did all those months ago, made herself at home at the bar and started doodling on the dry erase board like she owned it.
Jen and Piper shared a look as Jen slid her order to Priestly, who began assembling the BBQ sub without even a glance over his shoulder at who he was making it for.
When he did spin around, paper wrapped sandwich already on the counter in mid-slide he froze.
She grinned mile wide, not even noticing his lapse as her eyes took in his shirt of the day.
‘Your Trailer Park Called, They Want Their Trash Back.’
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“What?”
“I’ll call ‘em and tell ‘em I’m on my way home,” she winked, throwing down a twenty before walking out.
“What?” he croaked to thin air.
Piper was the one that smacked him on the shoulder.
“I think she was talking about your shirt slick,” she grinned.
He dropped his head so quick to read what was on his own shirt that Piper jumped back to prevent being impaled on his hair.
“Whoa buddy! Watch where you’re aiming those things,” she laughed, heading back over to the table where Noah was going over some papers on his lunch break.
***
Chapter Notes I did not make up ANY of the t-shirt sayings that will be making appearances in this fic...but...I did make icons for them all *hehe*
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