Glee: hollow point smile
Title: hollow point smile
Fandom: Glee
Author: mayalioness
Pairing: Tina / Mike
Rating: PG-13/ 14A
Warnings: Child abuse
Notes: Written for this prompt at the glee_angst_meme
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, no offense or copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off of this work of fiction.
Mike Chang is very, very good at pretending. This is why no one would ever look at him and think ‘he’s not okay’. This is how he gets it into the school.
He doesn’t know what to do with it. He can’t just leave it in the house, not when his mom has long since stopped calling 911. He can’t throw it into a dumpster for anyone to find; if someone found it and used it, it would be his fault. He doesn’t know how to get rid of it, so he brings it somewhere that he can control. Somewhere his dad will never have a reason to be.
He puts on the safety and stashes it under his gym bag. He tries to conceal it so that even when he opens his locker, no one will catch a glimpse of the 22-caliber handgun. His dad had bought it years ago ‘just in case’, teaching his young son how to use it. That had been before he had been laid off. He had had good days back then, and the bad days hadn’t been so bad.
Mike barely remembers it, but his dad had smiled on occasion, and there had been no trips to the hospital. Nor are there any now; she’s stopped going, stopped caring whether or not she makes it through. He came home yesterday to find her sprawled on the floor, bleeding and looking at him with blank eyes. She won’t leave, doesn’t even consider it anymore, and it’s getting worse.
It’s getting bad enough that Mike can’t leave the gun in the drawer where his dad could reach for it during one of his rages. It’s getting bad enough that he keeps a pistol in his locker and can’t change in front of his friends for fear of them seeing the bruises. It’s getting bad enough that he’s thinking about calling 911 himself, even though he hasn’t trusted the police since he was eight and they kept coming and then leaving again.
The hateful thing sits in his locker, and he’s constantly aware of its presence. He knows exactly where it is, and avoids looking at it even though it’s not visible. It taints everything else just by being there, this piece of his home life. They’re two separate worlds that shouldn’t ever mix, but sometimes there are no other options.
~
A few days later, he’s in the office with an officer looming over him. It’s not one of the ones who used to look at his mother with pitying eyes and try to persuade her to press charges, but a young guy, clearly new to the force. Mike doesn’t like him at all, not him or his patronizing words-- “I don’t think you understand the kind of trouble you’re in, son.”
He understands, but can’t really bring himself to care. The only emotion he can really muster is anger towards himself; how could he let it tumble out of his locker? Did he want this to happen? His inner voice is screaming and accusatory, bearing a remarkable resemblance to his father, who is called in and tries his best to act shocked. He probably is. He’s used to seeing his son as a silent bystander to his tirades, a quiet presence that he punches on occasion.
They keep asking Mike why he has it, what he was going to do with it, but he can only stare at them blankly and pray that they don’t return it to his father.
They don’t. He’s suspended, the gun confiscated, and the police open an official investigation. He’s taken to the police station, away from Figgins’ useless but familiar presence. The interrogation lasts hours, but he doesn’t tell them anything. He knows that his father is at home, taking out his aggression on his mother, but Mike keeps his mouth shut. It’s something he’s been taught since he was eight and everything changed, and he can’t let it go even now.
They can send him to juvie for that, if they want. They probably will.
He tries to call Tina when he finally gets home, but she doesn’t pick up. He checks Jacob Ben Israel’s blog; the story about Mike Chang’s failed school shooting has over four hundred hits. He doesn’t bother calling again.
When his dad comes into the room, Mike is lying listlessly on his bed. They make eye contact for a brief moment. It’s long enough for him to see the bloodshot eyes and know that there won’t be any reasonable conversation, any man to man talk about why exactly he had been found with a dangerous weapon in his possession. A fist connects with his face, and he smells alcohol and thinks back to when there were good days and smiles.
~
Tina is the only Glee member to visit Mike in the hospital. She sits by his side and holds his hand, until the silence gets too loud and he starts to talk. He doesn’t once look at her the entire time, but he knows that there are tears coursing down her cheeks.
He’s sure that they’re preparing some musical number to show their support for him, but he asks her to keep them away anyway. Some day, he might have the courage to share this with them. Some day, when his ribs have healed and his dad is locked away for good.
“I couldn’t think of anything else to do with it,” he tells her. “I couldn’t just leave it in the house. I… I was scared.”
She wraps her arms around him, and it takes him a moment to work out the words she’s repeating, over and over again.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
And he kind of wants to be angry, think that she’s trying to turn this around so that it’s about her failings and her guilt instead of his hurt. It would be nice to be angry. He hasn’t been angry in a long time. But he can’t feel anything but dull gratitude and the way his body aches.
Mike doesn’t have any meaningless platitudes left in him, so he just lets her hold him. She’s at an awkward angle, crouched beside the bed with her arms bent around his torso, but she doesn’t so much as shift uncomfortably. She turns her head to look him straight in the eye, telling him silently that she’s here for him and always will be.
He kisses her softly on the lips.
~
At the trial, he looks his father straight in the eye and says, “I hate you”. He says it with such conviction that no one in the courtroom doubts him.
Mike Chang is very, very good at pretending.
Fandom: Glee
Author: mayalioness
Pairing: Tina / Mike
Rating: PG-13/ 14A
Warnings: Child abuse
Notes: Written for this prompt at the glee_angst_meme
Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, no offense or copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off of this work of fiction.
Mike Chang is very, very good at pretending. This is why no one would ever look at him and think ‘he’s not okay’. This is how he gets it into the school.
He doesn’t know what to do with it. He can’t just leave it in the house, not when his mom has long since stopped calling 911. He can’t throw it into a dumpster for anyone to find; if someone found it and used it, it would be his fault. He doesn’t know how to get rid of it, so he brings it somewhere that he can control. Somewhere his dad will never have a reason to be.
He puts on the safety and stashes it under his gym bag. He tries to conceal it so that even when he opens his locker, no one will catch a glimpse of the 22-caliber handgun. His dad had bought it years ago ‘just in case’, teaching his young son how to use it. That had been before he had been laid off. He had had good days back then, and the bad days hadn’t been so bad.
Mike barely remembers it, but his dad had smiled on occasion, and there had been no trips to the hospital. Nor are there any now; she’s stopped going, stopped caring whether or not she makes it through. He came home yesterday to find her sprawled on the floor, bleeding and looking at him with blank eyes. She won’t leave, doesn’t even consider it anymore, and it’s getting worse.
It’s getting bad enough that Mike can’t leave the gun in the drawer where his dad could reach for it during one of his rages. It’s getting bad enough that he keeps a pistol in his locker and can’t change in front of his friends for fear of them seeing the bruises. It’s getting bad enough that he’s thinking about calling 911 himself, even though he hasn’t trusted the police since he was eight and they kept coming and then leaving again.
The hateful thing sits in his locker, and he’s constantly aware of its presence. He knows exactly where it is, and avoids looking at it even though it’s not visible. It taints everything else just by being there, this piece of his home life. They’re two separate worlds that shouldn’t ever mix, but sometimes there are no other options.
~
A few days later, he’s in the office with an officer looming over him. It’s not one of the ones who used to look at his mother with pitying eyes and try to persuade her to press charges, but a young guy, clearly new to the force. Mike doesn’t like him at all, not him or his patronizing words-- “I don’t think you understand the kind of trouble you’re in, son.”
He understands, but can’t really bring himself to care. The only emotion he can really muster is anger towards himself; how could he let it tumble out of his locker? Did he want this to happen? His inner voice is screaming and accusatory, bearing a remarkable resemblance to his father, who is called in and tries his best to act shocked. He probably is. He’s used to seeing his son as a silent bystander to his tirades, a quiet presence that he punches on occasion.
They keep asking Mike why he has it, what he was going to do with it, but he can only stare at them blankly and pray that they don’t return it to his father.
They don’t. He’s suspended, the gun confiscated, and the police open an official investigation. He’s taken to the police station, away from Figgins’ useless but familiar presence. The interrogation lasts hours, but he doesn’t tell them anything. He knows that his father is at home, taking out his aggression on his mother, but Mike keeps his mouth shut. It’s something he’s been taught since he was eight and everything changed, and he can’t let it go even now.
They can send him to juvie for that, if they want. They probably will.
He tries to call Tina when he finally gets home, but she doesn’t pick up. He checks Jacob Ben Israel’s blog; the story about Mike Chang’s failed school shooting has over four hundred hits. He doesn’t bother calling again.
When his dad comes into the room, Mike is lying listlessly on his bed. They make eye contact for a brief moment. It’s long enough for him to see the bloodshot eyes and know that there won’t be any reasonable conversation, any man to man talk about why exactly he had been found with a dangerous weapon in his possession. A fist connects with his face, and he smells alcohol and thinks back to when there were good days and smiles.
~
Tina is the only Glee member to visit Mike in the hospital. She sits by his side and holds his hand, until the silence gets too loud and he starts to talk. He doesn’t once look at her the entire time, but he knows that there are tears coursing down her cheeks.
He’s sure that they’re preparing some musical number to show their support for him, but he asks her to keep them away anyway. Some day, he might have the courage to share this with them. Some day, when his ribs have healed and his dad is locked away for good.
“I couldn’t think of anything else to do with it,” he tells her. “I couldn’t just leave it in the house. I… I was scared.”
She wraps her arms around him, and it takes him a moment to work out the words she’s repeating, over and over again.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
And he kind of wants to be angry, think that she’s trying to turn this around so that it’s about her failings and her guilt instead of his hurt. It would be nice to be angry. He hasn’t been angry in a long time. But he can’t feel anything but dull gratitude and the way his body aches.
Mike doesn’t have any meaningless platitudes left in him, so he just lets her hold him. She’s at an awkward angle, crouched beside the bed with her arms bent around his torso, but she doesn’t so much as shift uncomfortably. She turns her head to look him straight in the eye, telling him silently that she’s here for him and always will be.
He kisses her softly on the lips.
~
At the trial, he looks his father straight in the eye and says, “I hate you”. He says it with such conviction that no one in the courtroom doubts him.
Mike Chang is very, very good at pretending.