FIC: Just a Number
Title: Just a Number
Author: shelbecat
Rating: T
Spoilers: 3x06
Summary: Written for fnl_laundrylist challenge #31, prompt #7 What does Tim think of J.D.? Does he remind him of Jason in any way?
Just a Number
Tim’s always been real good at ignoring the obvious. It’s an act he’s perfected over the years-the cute blonde staring at him from the corner, her panties ready to crawl down her legs themselves, and Tim can just tip the bottle back and keep right on ignoring her. She’ll still be there when he’s ready. And if not, there’ll be another one standing in her place.
People think he’s stupid, but he’s gotten good at ignoring that too. He knows he’s not a lost cause; knew it before Lyla started chanting it like a mantra. It’s just easier sometimes to pretend he doesn’t care about college and his future and how anyone expects him to actually get accepted on a scholarship. Right now, it’s October and graduation is about as far away as Tim can imagine. He’ll take 9 months of Lyla curled up beside him every night, whether she sneaks out or he sneaks in to her place, and not think at all about what he’s going to do when it ends.
Because it will end. Just like the last future he had planned out with Lyla, and Jay. That one crashed and burned spectacularly. Tim wonders if he could ever mess up the future Lyla’s planning for him now as effectively. Probably not, but he’s sure he’ll find a way. Something else to ignore.
Until Coach calls Tim into his office and lays out a plan of his own for him. Befriend J.D. Accept him. Tim doesn’t understand at first; doesn’t want to. Then Coach mashes the obvious right in his face.
You’re not going to be wearing the Panther uniform much longer.
And that's exactly what Tim had been fighting to ignore.
Belonging had never been something he was good at. In the beginning, he’d had a family. Seemed normal enough to him until he started school and realized other kids didn’t hide in their bedrooms afraid that they'd get hit with a flying bottle. But he’d gotten good at being invisible, and they were still his family. He belonged with them.
Guess they didn’t feel as strongly though because one by one they all left him, until it was just Tim, and Billy had to come back to him out of pity. Most days he pretends that he never had parents at all. That Billy really liked living in Dillon and doesn’t wish for any other life. But then someone shows a kind side to Tim and all his fears of not belonging rush to the surface. Is this real? Is he actually liked?
Jay had been the first friend to accept Tim as he was-skeletons in his closet and all. It was the family Tim had never had, and they never made him feel like less than them. He was welcome there at any time, and Tuesday night dinners had been a ritual. The years since the accident had been rough, but they were friends again now. And Tim likes to think that nothing had changed. But it has.
Out on the field, it’s still all wrong. Even with Saracen throwing the ball, Tim can imagine that Jay is just sitting out this one pass. That the team is still the same as it always should have been, and that QB2 has just stepped in for a brief moment.
But now Saracen is benched and there’s a new kid in the QB1 position. And Tim hates it. He hates him.
Reason be damned, Tim’s sure he’s never going to be friends with J.D. McCoy and that’s just fine with him. No reason to try and fit in with someone else anyway. He’d only end up getting hurt in the end.
Until Coach makes him be the bigger man and take J.D. under his wing.
The words still ring clear in his head. The guilt trip that seals the deal.
I’m asking for your help. You understand what I’m saying?
Not many people remember the ‘Tim before he was Jason Street’s friend’; but Tim does. And so does Coach, apparently. Awkward as all hell and desperate to belong to something or someone. Tim will never know for sure, but he’s always suspected that it was Coach Taylor that pushed a young Jason Street in Tim’s direction. What other reason could there have been for the promising JV quarterback to befriend the scrawny kid wearing his brother’s too big practice jersey?
Makes no difference how he and Jason became friends. Coach had done more than his share for Tim over the years and Tim owes him now.
No matter how much J.D. reminds Tim of Six.
The kid is just plain awkward. And not in that way that he hasn’t learned full control of his limbs yet. He just doesn’t have social skills. As in, any. Guess Daddy hadn’t thought to hire an expensive coach to teach J.D. the act of cool. What did he need friends for when he had his room full of shiny football trophies? Saracen had told Tim all about it, in the way only Matt had of not making fun of J.D. at the same time. And Tim hadn’t felt like laughing either. All he could think about was Jason’s parents and how they used to pin every medal he won to the bulletin board beside the fridge. The scant few Tim had brought home ended up lost to the dust bunnies under the couch, or hidden in an old shoebox in the back of his closet. Billy was always looking for a chance to shoot Tim down; make himself look like the better player. No point in rubbing his nose in the fact that he wasn’t.
But Tim made it through one stilted conversation-filled night driving around town and didn’t feel so horrible for it after. It wasn’t like J.D. was a total lost cause. Anyone could be cool if he hung out with the right people long enough. And Tim is the right people, no matter how much he doesn’t care about that stuff. Jason had been the right people too, only he did it without damaging his liver or tempting the pregnancy-Gods by sleeping with every girl that moved.
Tim watches J.D. fall down stupid-ass drunk and wishes he could be the kind of person Jason had been. He wishes he could show J.D. that there is nothing wrong with wanting to be liked; you just have to find a way do it while still being yourself. Tim threw away what little self-respect he had for himself a long time ago. It’s a miracle Lyla even looked at him sideways after they’d tried and failed once; let alone actually give him a second shot. But here he is-with a good girl by his side and a fall-down drunk at his feet.
The shoe certainly was on the other foot.
A part of Tim wants to kick J.D. in the gut. Because now J.D. is Tim and Tim is Jason and Tim wishes Jason had of done the same thing to him way back then. Maybe then Tim would have looked up to Jay even a little more, if that was possible, and tried to be a hell of a lot more like him. Instead he’d turned out exactly like he is right now, and J.D. is going to do no better if Tim doesn’t do something to stop it.
Coach really knew what he was doing when he’d looked at Tim with those serious eyes. Playing football just isn’t enough. Playing good isn’t enough. Tim has to be good. Tim has to be a good man. Does he have it in him?
Lyla seems to think so. And so does Coach. Maybe it’s obvious to them. Ignorance was supposed to be bliss; but maybe it was time to open his eyes to a new kind of happiness. He could be the role model. He’d looked up to Six, maybe One-Two could look up to him. The difference was just a number. Tim just had to keep repeating that to himself and he’d be fine.
/fin/
Authors' Note: Thanks to Rachel_wilder for the beta, and for making me write something, anything. She put up a good fight for me to write someone else, but in the end it always turns out to be Tim.
Author: shelbecat
Rating: T
Spoilers: 3x06
Summary: Written for fnl_laundrylist challenge #31, prompt #7 What does Tim think of J.D.? Does he remind him of Jason in any way?
Just a Number
Tim’s always been real good at ignoring the obvious. It’s an act he’s perfected over the years-the cute blonde staring at him from the corner, her panties ready to crawl down her legs themselves, and Tim can just tip the bottle back and keep right on ignoring her. She’ll still be there when he’s ready. And if not, there’ll be another one standing in her place.
People think he’s stupid, but he’s gotten good at ignoring that too. He knows he’s not a lost cause; knew it before Lyla started chanting it like a mantra. It’s just easier sometimes to pretend he doesn’t care about college and his future and how anyone expects him to actually get accepted on a scholarship. Right now, it’s October and graduation is about as far away as Tim can imagine. He’ll take 9 months of Lyla curled up beside him every night, whether she sneaks out or he sneaks in to her place, and not think at all about what he’s going to do when it ends.
Because it will end. Just like the last future he had planned out with Lyla, and Jay. That one crashed and burned spectacularly. Tim wonders if he could ever mess up the future Lyla’s planning for him now as effectively. Probably not, but he’s sure he’ll find a way. Something else to ignore.
Until Coach calls Tim into his office and lays out a plan of his own for him. Befriend J.D. Accept him. Tim doesn’t understand at first; doesn’t want to. Then Coach mashes the obvious right in his face.
You’re not going to be wearing the Panther uniform much longer.
And that's exactly what Tim had been fighting to ignore.
Belonging had never been something he was good at. In the beginning, he’d had a family. Seemed normal enough to him until he started school and realized other kids didn’t hide in their bedrooms afraid that they'd get hit with a flying bottle. But he’d gotten good at being invisible, and they were still his family. He belonged with them.
Guess they didn’t feel as strongly though because one by one they all left him, until it was just Tim, and Billy had to come back to him out of pity. Most days he pretends that he never had parents at all. That Billy really liked living in Dillon and doesn’t wish for any other life. But then someone shows a kind side to Tim and all his fears of not belonging rush to the surface. Is this real? Is he actually liked?
Jay had been the first friend to accept Tim as he was-skeletons in his closet and all. It was the family Tim had never had, and they never made him feel like less than them. He was welcome there at any time, and Tuesday night dinners had been a ritual. The years since the accident had been rough, but they were friends again now. And Tim likes to think that nothing had changed. But it has.
Out on the field, it’s still all wrong. Even with Saracen throwing the ball, Tim can imagine that Jay is just sitting out this one pass. That the team is still the same as it always should have been, and that QB2 has just stepped in for a brief moment.
But now Saracen is benched and there’s a new kid in the QB1 position. And Tim hates it. He hates him.
Reason be damned, Tim’s sure he’s never going to be friends with J.D. McCoy and that’s just fine with him. No reason to try and fit in with someone else anyway. He’d only end up getting hurt in the end.
Until Coach makes him be the bigger man and take J.D. under his wing.
The words still ring clear in his head. The guilt trip that seals the deal.
I’m asking for your help. You understand what I’m saying?
Not many people remember the ‘Tim before he was Jason Street’s friend’; but Tim does. And so does Coach, apparently. Awkward as all hell and desperate to belong to something or someone. Tim will never know for sure, but he’s always suspected that it was Coach Taylor that pushed a young Jason Street in Tim’s direction. What other reason could there have been for the promising JV quarterback to befriend the scrawny kid wearing his brother’s too big practice jersey?
Makes no difference how he and Jason became friends. Coach had done more than his share for Tim over the years and Tim owes him now.
No matter how much J.D. reminds Tim of Six.
The kid is just plain awkward. And not in that way that he hasn’t learned full control of his limbs yet. He just doesn’t have social skills. As in, any. Guess Daddy hadn’t thought to hire an expensive coach to teach J.D. the act of cool. What did he need friends for when he had his room full of shiny football trophies? Saracen had told Tim all about it, in the way only Matt had of not making fun of J.D. at the same time. And Tim hadn’t felt like laughing either. All he could think about was Jason’s parents and how they used to pin every medal he won to the bulletin board beside the fridge. The scant few Tim had brought home ended up lost to the dust bunnies under the couch, or hidden in an old shoebox in the back of his closet. Billy was always looking for a chance to shoot Tim down; make himself look like the better player. No point in rubbing his nose in the fact that he wasn’t.
But Tim made it through one stilted conversation-filled night driving around town and didn’t feel so horrible for it after. It wasn’t like J.D. was a total lost cause. Anyone could be cool if he hung out with the right people long enough. And Tim is the right people, no matter how much he doesn’t care about that stuff. Jason had been the right people too, only he did it without damaging his liver or tempting the pregnancy-Gods by sleeping with every girl that moved.
Tim watches J.D. fall down stupid-ass drunk and wishes he could be the kind of person Jason had been. He wishes he could show J.D. that there is nothing wrong with wanting to be liked; you just have to find a way do it while still being yourself. Tim threw away what little self-respect he had for himself a long time ago. It’s a miracle Lyla even looked at him sideways after they’d tried and failed once; let alone actually give him a second shot. But here he is-with a good girl by his side and a fall-down drunk at his feet.
The shoe certainly was on the other foot.
A part of Tim wants to kick J.D. in the gut. Because now J.D. is Tim and Tim is Jason and Tim wishes Jason had of done the same thing to him way back then. Maybe then Tim would have looked up to Jay even a little more, if that was possible, and tried to be a hell of a lot more like him. Instead he’d turned out exactly like he is right now, and J.D. is going to do no better if Tim doesn’t do something to stop it.
Coach really knew what he was doing when he’d looked at Tim with those serious eyes. Playing football just isn’t enough. Playing good isn’t enough. Tim has to be good. Tim has to be a good man. Does he have it in him?
Lyla seems to think so. And so does Coach. Maybe it’s obvious to them. Ignorance was supposed to be bliss; but maybe it was time to open his eyes to a new kind of happiness. He could be the role model. He’d looked up to Six, maybe One-Two could look up to him. The difference was just a number. Tim just had to keep repeating that to himself and he’d be fine.
/fin/
Authors' Note: Thanks to Rachel_wilder for the beta, and for making me write something, anything. She put up a good fight for me to write someone else, but in the end it always turns out to be Tim.