Brothers and Sisters fic, "When it Rains" (2/2)
Title: When it Rains
Author: Sleepykraken
Characters:Kevin and Scotty, peripheral Justin.
Rating: PG
Summary: Bad news: when it rains, it pours.
Timeline: twenty years post season five.
Disclaimer: Just playing in the sandbox. I'll put my toys back when I've finished with them.
AN: I had most of this chapter finished a long time ago, but I was having the hardest time finishing it. This chapter is a little bit of filler/setting up for the next story when things really start to go sideways.
Scotty stared into his father’s closet for a long moment. Even though he didn’t see his father very often there was something deeply familiar about his clothes. He let out a long breath, then started pulling things off the hangers and placing them in the large bags marked ‘give away.’ It had been nearly a week since he had arrived in Arizona. The time had been a blur of funeral preparations, then the funeral, then trying to get everything in order.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. At first he thought it might be Kevin. They had spoken a few times since he had left, but not nearly as often as he knew they should. Whenever they spoke Kevin sounded distant and distracted, and truth be told, Scotty didn’t feel like he had much to say. He looked down at it and saw Justin’s name. He answered. “Hey Justin.”
“When are you coming home?” Justin’s tone was brusque. Scotty was caught off guard.
“I don’t know; in a couple days, maybe?”
“I think you should come home.” Scotty started to worry. Justin was never this enigmatic.
“What’s going on, Justin?”
“Have you even spoken to your husband?”
“A few times. Just tell me what’s going on, ok?”
“And he sounded all right to you?” There was an edge to his voice.
“If something’s wrong with Kevin, you tell me right now. Don’t get all passive-aggressive on me.” Scotty was surprised at how harsh he sounded. He suddenly felt himself overcome with worry. What if something was really wrong at home?
“You really have no idea, do you?” His tone was a little gentler.
“Justin, Kevin and I have barely spoken. We’re both dealing with stuff. He sounded a little distant over the phone, but otherwise he seemed fine. If that’s not the case, you need to tell me now.” Justin sighed.
“He’s just not handling Mom’s death well.”
“I knew it was going to be hard for him. But he’ll cry his way through it; that always helps.”
“But that’s not happening, Scotty! I haven’t seen him cry. None of us have. He just runs around like a man possessed, organizing everything. He barely eats; I don’t think he sleeps much. It’s just…it’s not good.” Scotty considered this. For a brief moment he was filled with resentment. How hard was it to look after yourself? Did Kevin really have to fall to pieces like that? But as soon as the feeling came, it left. As close as he was to his father, Kevin was infinitely closer to his mother. And in addition, he always felt thing so strongly. It was one of Scotty’s favorite things about him. But it made things harder for Kevin when those feelings were painful. And he hadn’t been much help, now that he thought about it. He had been so caught up with dealing with things in Arizona, he hadn’t thought much about how Kevin was doing. He was suddenly overcome by the need to see his husband, to hold him, to make everything alright.
“I’ll leave in an hour. I’ll be there tonight.”
Scotty pulled up to their house. The lights were on on most of the first floor, which wasn’t particularly out of character, but somehow worried him anyway. He let himself in through the garage and made his way to the kitchen. As he turned the corner he saw Kevin down on his hands and knees, apparently washing the floors. “What are you doing?” He looked up with a start.
“You’re home!” He leapt to his feet, swaying slightly at the sudden change. “How are you? Is everything alright? You didn’t call me to say you were coming home. If I had known, I would have had everything clean before you got here…”
“Kevin, slow down.” He put his hands on his shoulders and took a good look at his husband. “You look terrible.” He looked pale and tired, yet possessed by a slightly manic energy. He had lost a little weight and generally appeared like he could fall apart at any moment.
“I’m fine.” He replied in typical defensive Kevin mode.
“I know you, Kevin Walker. You’re a long way away from fine.” He sighed. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you talk to me, tell me that you weren’t handling things well?”
“I’m handling things just fine.” He responded a little too quickly.
“You know you aren’t. When you’re sad you cry, get a little drunk, cry some more, eat a pint of ice cream, and work your way through it. You don’t wash floors. Don’t try to tell me this is normal behavior.”
“How could I call you, Scotty? Your father died. You had a thousand things to deal with.” He paused. “I had to keep it together.” He sounded slightly frantic.
“You call this keeping it together?” He took Kevin’s hand. “We’ve been together a quarter of a century, and you didn’t think you could lean on me? That’s what I’m here for, that’s what our relationship is. He pulled him into a tight hug. After a long moment they separated. “Come on, let me make you some dinner; something tells me you haven’t eaten yet.”
Scotty woke with a start. It took him a moment to realize that he was home, in his own bed. In their bed. Kevin was conspicuously absent. He looked to the clock; 5:20. Kevin generally woke up long before him, but this was a little early even by his husband’s standards. As memories of the day before came back he grew uneasy. He got out of bed and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. Kevin was sitting at the table staring into his coffee cup. The sugar bowl was on the counter next to the coffee pot. Scotty took this as a bad sign; Kevin only put sugar in his coffee when he was particularly stressed or anxious. “Hey.” He said.
“Hey.” Kevin looked up from his coffee, answering tonelessly.
“Did you sleep at all?” Scotty vaguely remembered cuddling with his husband before falling asleep but he couldn’t be sure who fell asleep first.
“A couple hours.” He looked back down at his mug. Scotty poured himself some coffee and walked to the fridge in search of milk. There was none there.
“What happened to the milk?” Kevin looked up, slightly bewildered.
“Ummm…Daniel must have finished it when he was here for the funeral.”
“And you didn’t buy more?” Scotty asked, slightly peeved.
“I…I didn’t think…I…” He looked so lost, and Scotty felt his frustration dissipate. He sat down at the table and poured his coffee into Kevin’s mug.
“No use to me now. You might as well drink it.”
“After all these years, you still can’t drink it black, can you?” Kevin smiled just a little; a strange contrast against his tired face and haunted eyes.
“Nope.” They shared a smile. Kevin played with his mug for a long moment, and looked up.
“You were right. I’m…I’m not handling this well.” His voice quavered a little. “I know I have to be strong, have to keep it together, but…” He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. “I just…can’t.” He wiped a few tears away from his eyes.
“You don’t have to keep it together, not anymore. You organized the funeral, pretty much single-handedly from what Justin told me, you looked after the kids when they were here, but now it’s just us. God knows I’ve seen you fall apart before; I can handle it.” He took Kevin’s hands in his own.
“I don’t know how you do it. I always feel like a little girl compared to you; you’re so…composed.”
“We all grieve differently Kev. You cry. You need to cry.” Scotty ran a hand through the other man’s hair before resting it on the side of his face. “You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You’ll get through this. We’ll get through this together.” They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Where would I be without you?” He asked seriously.
“I believe we’ve already answered that question.” Scotty smiled.
“Right, nowhere good.” Kevin smiled back through his tears, and Scotty felt hopeful for the first time since receiving bad news the week before. Maybe things would be alright after all.
Scotty had know it wasn’t going to be easy, but somehow he had been under the impression that getting over grief was a straight line, a linear path. Instead things seemed to go randomly up and down and back and forth. Some days Kevin seemed like he was moving forwards; he did the grocery shopping, went to the library, and played racquetball with other retired lawyers. But other days Scotty would come home from work to find him frantically cleaning, or would wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed and the sound of his husband pacing in the kitchen. Sometimes he cried for hours for no particular reason.
Although less demonstrative, Scotty felt much the same way. He’d be going about his day when he would suddenly remember that his father was gone. At least once he’d picked up the phone to call Nora only to remember that she was gone too.
One night, a week or so since he had come home, Scotty came back to the house after work. The lights were on again, and he found himself a little worried. When he walked in it felt like déja vu. Kevin was vacuuming the living room floor with a frenetic energy. Scotty watched him for a moment as he felt himself overcome with an emotion he couldn’t quantify or name. “Kevin.” He said. His voice sounded quiet and it had a sadness to it that he wasn’t expecting. “Kevin.” He said a little louder, realizing that the other man hadn’t heard him over the noise. “Kevin!” He shouted. Kevin jumped, dropped the vacuum cleaner, swore, and turned to face him. He stared blankly at Scotty. “Kevin.” He said again, as gently as he could. He took a few steps forward and pulled his husband into a tight hug. He felt like he should say something, like he should know what to say. Instead, he tried to put as much love as he could into the hug. Kevin just stood there, arms at his side, not reciprocating the embrace. Scotty let go and held his husband at arm’s length. “What are we going to do?” He asked matter-of-factly.
“What can we do? Nothing. We can’t do anything.” Kevin didn’t seem to make much sense, and didn’t seem to care.
“Well what can I do? I know I can’t bring Nora back, but I’m your husband, and I can help you. Tell me what I can do.”
“You can let me finish vacuuming. We both know I’m the only one who does it.” He said a little harshly. He stared at him as if saying ‘I dare you to stop me.’ Scotty returned his gaze then picked up the vacuum from where it had fallen.
“I’ll do it.”
“You hate vacuuming, Scotty. In over twenty years of marriage I’ve never seen you so much as touch the thing.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” He responded levelly.
“I’m not going to play games with you. Give me the damn vacuum.”
“So you can continue to sublimate your grief through household chores? I’m not playing games, and I’m not going to keep watching you do this to yourself.” Kevin stared at him. His look of defiance melted away and he started to cry. Scotty wrapped his arms around him and held him as he sobbed. “It’s going to be ok.” He soothed.
“And what if it’s not?” Scotty searched his brain for an answer, and came up empty. He ran his hand though his husband’s hair, and hoped that things would be better in the morning.
Author: Sleepykraken
Characters:Kevin and Scotty, peripheral Justin.
Rating: PG
Summary: Bad news: when it rains, it pours.
Timeline: twenty years post season five.
Disclaimer: Just playing in the sandbox. I'll put my toys back when I've finished with them.
AN: I had most of this chapter finished a long time ago, but I was having the hardest time finishing it. This chapter is a little bit of filler/setting up for the next story when things really start to go sideways.
Scotty stared into his father’s closet for a long moment. Even though he didn’t see his father very often there was something deeply familiar about his clothes. He let out a long breath, then started pulling things off the hangers and placing them in the large bags marked ‘give away.’ It had been nearly a week since he had arrived in Arizona. The time had been a blur of funeral preparations, then the funeral, then trying to get everything in order.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. At first he thought it might be Kevin. They had spoken a few times since he had left, but not nearly as often as he knew they should. Whenever they spoke Kevin sounded distant and distracted, and truth be told, Scotty didn’t feel like he had much to say. He looked down at it and saw Justin’s name. He answered. “Hey Justin.”
“When are you coming home?” Justin’s tone was brusque. Scotty was caught off guard.
“I don’t know; in a couple days, maybe?”
“I think you should come home.” Scotty started to worry. Justin was never this enigmatic.
“What’s going on, Justin?”
“Have you even spoken to your husband?”
“A few times. Just tell me what’s going on, ok?”
“And he sounded all right to you?” There was an edge to his voice.
“If something’s wrong with Kevin, you tell me right now. Don’t get all passive-aggressive on me.” Scotty was surprised at how harsh he sounded. He suddenly felt himself overcome with worry. What if something was really wrong at home?
“You really have no idea, do you?” His tone was a little gentler.
“Justin, Kevin and I have barely spoken. We’re both dealing with stuff. He sounded a little distant over the phone, but otherwise he seemed fine. If that’s not the case, you need to tell me now.” Justin sighed.
“He’s just not handling Mom’s death well.”
“I knew it was going to be hard for him. But he’ll cry his way through it; that always helps.”
“But that’s not happening, Scotty! I haven’t seen him cry. None of us have. He just runs around like a man possessed, organizing everything. He barely eats; I don’t think he sleeps much. It’s just…it’s not good.” Scotty considered this. For a brief moment he was filled with resentment. How hard was it to look after yourself? Did Kevin really have to fall to pieces like that? But as soon as the feeling came, it left. As close as he was to his father, Kevin was infinitely closer to his mother. And in addition, he always felt thing so strongly. It was one of Scotty’s favorite things about him. But it made things harder for Kevin when those feelings were painful. And he hadn’t been much help, now that he thought about it. He had been so caught up with dealing with things in Arizona, he hadn’t thought much about how Kevin was doing. He was suddenly overcome by the need to see his husband, to hold him, to make everything alright.
“I’ll leave in an hour. I’ll be there tonight.”
Scotty pulled up to their house. The lights were on on most of the first floor, which wasn’t particularly out of character, but somehow worried him anyway. He let himself in through the garage and made his way to the kitchen. As he turned the corner he saw Kevin down on his hands and knees, apparently washing the floors. “What are you doing?” He looked up with a start.
“You’re home!” He leapt to his feet, swaying slightly at the sudden change. “How are you? Is everything alright? You didn’t call me to say you were coming home. If I had known, I would have had everything clean before you got here…”
“Kevin, slow down.” He put his hands on his shoulders and took a good look at his husband. “You look terrible.” He looked pale and tired, yet possessed by a slightly manic energy. He had lost a little weight and generally appeared like he could fall apart at any moment.
“I’m fine.” He replied in typical defensive Kevin mode.
“I know you, Kevin Walker. You’re a long way away from fine.” He sighed. “Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you talk to me, tell me that you weren’t handling things well?”
“I’m handling things just fine.” He responded a little too quickly.
“You know you aren’t. When you’re sad you cry, get a little drunk, cry some more, eat a pint of ice cream, and work your way through it. You don’t wash floors. Don’t try to tell me this is normal behavior.”
“How could I call you, Scotty? Your father died. You had a thousand things to deal with.” He paused. “I had to keep it together.” He sounded slightly frantic.
“You call this keeping it together?” He took Kevin’s hand. “We’ve been together a quarter of a century, and you didn’t think you could lean on me? That’s what I’m here for, that’s what our relationship is. He pulled him into a tight hug. After a long moment they separated. “Come on, let me make you some dinner; something tells me you haven’t eaten yet.”
Scotty woke with a start. It took him a moment to realize that he was home, in his own bed. In their bed. Kevin was conspicuously absent. He looked to the clock; 5:20. Kevin generally woke up long before him, but this was a little early even by his husband’s standards. As memories of the day before came back he grew uneasy. He got out of bed and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. Kevin was sitting at the table staring into his coffee cup. The sugar bowl was on the counter next to the coffee pot. Scotty took this as a bad sign; Kevin only put sugar in his coffee when he was particularly stressed or anxious. “Hey.” He said.
“Hey.” Kevin looked up from his coffee, answering tonelessly.
“Did you sleep at all?” Scotty vaguely remembered cuddling with his husband before falling asleep but he couldn’t be sure who fell asleep first.
“A couple hours.” He looked back down at his mug. Scotty poured himself some coffee and walked to the fridge in search of milk. There was none there.
“What happened to the milk?” Kevin looked up, slightly bewildered.
“Ummm…Daniel must have finished it when he was here for the funeral.”
“And you didn’t buy more?” Scotty asked, slightly peeved.
“I…I didn’t think…I…” He looked so lost, and Scotty felt his frustration dissipate. He sat down at the table and poured his coffee into Kevin’s mug.
“No use to me now. You might as well drink it.”
“After all these years, you still can’t drink it black, can you?” Kevin smiled just a little; a strange contrast against his tired face and haunted eyes.
“Nope.” They shared a smile. Kevin played with his mug for a long moment, and looked up.
“You were right. I’m…I’m not handling this well.” His voice quavered a little. “I know I have to be strong, have to keep it together, but…” He took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. “I just…can’t.” He wiped a few tears away from his eyes.
“You don’t have to keep it together, not anymore. You organized the funeral, pretty much single-handedly from what Justin told me, you looked after the kids when they were here, but now it’s just us. God knows I’ve seen you fall apart before; I can handle it.” He took Kevin’s hands in his own.
“I don’t know how you do it. I always feel like a little girl compared to you; you’re so…composed.”
“We all grieve differently Kev. You cry. You need to cry.” Scotty ran a hand through the other man’s hair before resting it on the side of his face. “You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. You’ll get through this. We’ll get through this together.” They stared at each other for a long moment.
“Where would I be without you?” He asked seriously.
“I believe we’ve already answered that question.” Scotty smiled.
“Right, nowhere good.” Kevin smiled back through his tears, and Scotty felt hopeful for the first time since receiving bad news the week before. Maybe things would be alright after all.
Scotty had know it wasn’t going to be easy, but somehow he had been under the impression that getting over grief was a straight line, a linear path. Instead things seemed to go randomly up and down and back and forth. Some days Kevin seemed like he was moving forwards; he did the grocery shopping, went to the library, and played racquetball with other retired lawyers. But other days Scotty would come home from work to find him frantically cleaning, or would wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed and the sound of his husband pacing in the kitchen. Sometimes he cried for hours for no particular reason.
Although less demonstrative, Scotty felt much the same way. He’d be going about his day when he would suddenly remember that his father was gone. At least once he’d picked up the phone to call Nora only to remember that she was gone too.
One night, a week or so since he had come home, Scotty came back to the house after work. The lights were on again, and he found himself a little worried. When he walked in it felt like déja vu. Kevin was vacuuming the living room floor with a frenetic energy. Scotty watched him for a moment as he felt himself overcome with an emotion he couldn’t quantify or name. “Kevin.” He said. His voice sounded quiet and it had a sadness to it that he wasn’t expecting. “Kevin.” He said a little louder, realizing that the other man hadn’t heard him over the noise. “Kevin!” He shouted. Kevin jumped, dropped the vacuum cleaner, swore, and turned to face him. He stared blankly at Scotty. “Kevin.” He said again, as gently as he could. He took a few steps forward and pulled his husband into a tight hug. He felt like he should say something, like he should know what to say. Instead, he tried to put as much love as he could into the hug. Kevin just stood there, arms at his side, not reciprocating the embrace. Scotty let go and held his husband at arm’s length. “What are we going to do?” He asked matter-of-factly.
“What can we do? Nothing. We can’t do anything.” Kevin didn’t seem to make much sense, and didn’t seem to care.
“Well what can I do? I know I can’t bring Nora back, but I’m your husband, and I can help you. Tell me what I can do.”
“You can let me finish vacuuming. We both know I’m the only one who does it.” He said a little harshly. He stared at him as if saying ‘I dare you to stop me.’ Scotty returned his gaze then picked up the vacuum from where it had fallen.
“I’ll do it.”
“You hate vacuuming, Scotty. In over twenty years of marriage I’ve never seen you so much as touch the thing.”
“There’s a first time for everything.” He responded levelly.
“I’m not going to play games with you. Give me the damn vacuum.”
“So you can continue to sublimate your grief through household chores? I’m not playing games, and I’m not going to keep watching you do this to yourself.” Kevin stared at him. His look of defiance melted away and he started to cry. Scotty wrapped his arms around him and held him as he sobbed. “It’s going to be ok.” He soothed.
“And what if it’s not?” Scotty searched his brain for an answer, and came up empty. He ran his hand though his husband’s hair, and hoped that things would be better in the morning.