Ten Inch Hero fic - PG, gennish
Title: Much have I seen and known
Fandom: Ten Inch Hero
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: mentions of child abuse
Pairings: Priestly/Tish
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 955
Point of view: third
Notes: sequel to this
When her son walks into the shop wearing a ratty shirt with a faded-beyond-readability slogan and holey jeans, his hair completely unstyled and make-up that hasn’t been washed in a few days, Zoheret doesn’t waste time asking him what is wrong.
Instead, she kindly informs the single customer that the shop is closing early, leads her boy to the back, and murmurs, “Sit down, love.” She locks the door, turns to the sign to closed, and hurries back, but he hasn’t moved.
“Priestly?” she asks softly.
“Not Priestly,” he mumbles. “Not Boaz. ‘m’nobody.”
“You are somebody, my dear,” she reassures him. “Does anyone know where you are?”
He shrugs. Something is dreadfully wrong, and until she figures out what, all she can do is make him feel safe. Her apartment above the shop is still available, although about half the furniture has been taken to Trucker’s house. Zoheret gently guides her boy upstairs and lays him on the bed.
“Rest, love,” she says. “You’re safe.”
“I’m nobody,” he repeats, blinking away tears. “I’m nobody and nobody wants me.”
Zoheret very nearly curses.
.
Trucker is still across the street at work. When Zoheret walks in, Haley is in Priestly’s usual spot, with Jen taking orders and Tish assembling the sandwiches. Trucker greets Zoheret with a kiss, then looks at her again and asks, “What’s wrong? Your break isn’t for another hour.”
“Where is Priestly?” Zoheret asks quietly, studying each young woman in turn. No one in Santa Cruz is important enough to Priestly to warrant this breakdown. Everyone with the power over him to do it is standing in the Beach City Grill right now.
“He called in sick this morning,” Trucker says. “Luckily, he’s been training Haley on the grill.”
Tish is staring down at the counter when Zoheret looks back at her. “May I speak with you, Tish?” Zoheret asks.
“I’m in the middle of my shift,” Tish says.
Zoheret looks at Trucker, who tells Tish, “Take five, Angel.”
.
Tish refuses to meet Zoheret’s eyes as she says, “We broke up last night, so what? He’s too nice of a guy, and he knew what he was getting into when he asked me out. It’s not like either of us thought it was forever, anyway!”
“I understand, Tish,” Zoheret says calmly. “But what were the exact words you used last night?”
Tish’s hands fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I told him he was safe. He wanted me to change, like he had. He looked so perfect all cleaned up, and he was too gentle, and god, his nightmares kept me up all night.”
Zoheret steadily looks at her until Tish glances up and flinches. “I know it was terrible!” Tish explodes, something like desperation in her voice. “And he’s a good guy, I know that, too. But he’s not for me. I need dangerous, and experimentation. And Priestly looked like a punk, but he’s the safest guy I ever fucked.”
Sighing, Zoheret lowers her gaze. “So you didn’t like Priestly,” she says, “and you don’t like Boaz.”
Tish makes a disagreeing sound. “No! I like him just fine as a friend.”
Zoheret laughs. “I’ll tell him so, Tish. You can return to work now. Tell Trucker I’ll see him at home tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Tish calls after her, but Zoheret keeps walking.
.
Her boy hasn’t moved except to cocoon himself in her mother’s quilts. Zoheret slowly and carefully sits beside him, humming a lullaby from her childhood. Since their marriage, she’s used it to soothe Trucker during his nightmares.
“Who am I?” her boy asks. “I don’t want to be Priestly or Boaz. Can you name me, Zo?”
“What about Zachary?” she asks, fingers combing through his hair.
“Zach,” he whispers. “No. That’s not my name.”
“Ash?” she offers. He shakes his head. She lists a dozen names before he asks her to repeat Benjamin.
“Yeah,” he says. “Ben.”
Zoheret smiles, kisses his forehead, and goes to the armchair in the corner. “Sleep a little longer, Ben. You could use the rest.”
When his nightmares make him restless, Zoheret sings again, until his expression smoothes out and he dreams peacefully.
.
In the morning, Ben talks about his parents and how no matter what he’d tried, he was never good enough for them. He talks about broken bones and bruises and blood stains, and never enough to eat, and the nights never slept through, and the teachers, pastor, guidance counselor, and tutors who looked the other way. He doesn’t mention friends or why he eventually left or the journey from one coast to the other.
All he says, as he finishes his breakfast, is, “I’ve never been enough of anything.”
“Oh, Ben, I do love you,” she says, reaching for his hand. She squeezes it tight and he returns the grip, eyes on his plate. “Whatever you choose to do, whoever you choose to be - I love you.”
“Thank you, Zo,” he whispers. He looks so young, and so tired. He glances toward the window, overlooking the street that separates her shop from Trucker’s. “I’ll miss them,” he says. “And you.”
“Do what you must,” she replies. “You’ll find where you’re meant to be. And I’ll always have room for you.”
“Thank you, Zo,” he repeats, meeting her gaze. “So much. I’d’ve died without you.”
.
Ben writes notes for Jen, Haley, Trucker, and even Tish. He hugs and kisses Zoheret goodbye.
When she walks into their house that evening, she’s crying and Trucker pulls her into his arms. “Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks.
She hands him his letter. She’s still crying when he finishes it and says plaintively, “But why?”
Zoheret simply grips his hand and holds him as tightly as he holds her.
Fandom: Ten Inch Hero
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: mentions of child abuse
Pairings: Priestly/Tish
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 955
Point of view: third
Notes: sequel to this
When her son walks into the shop wearing a ratty shirt with a faded-beyond-readability slogan and holey jeans, his hair completely unstyled and make-up that hasn’t been washed in a few days, Zoheret doesn’t waste time asking him what is wrong.
Instead, she kindly informs the single customer that the shop is closing early, leads her boy to the back, and murmurs, “Sit down, love.” She locks the door, turns to the sign to closed, and hurries back, but he hasn’t moved.
“Priestly?” she asks softly.
“Not Priestly,” he mumbles. “Not Boaz. ‘m’nobody.”
“You are somebody, my dear,” she reassures him. “Does anyone know where you are?”
He shrugs. Something is dreadfully wrong, and until she figures out what, all she can do is make him feel safe. Her apartment above the shop is still available, although about half the furniture has been taken to Trucker’s house. Zoheret gently guides her boy upstairs and lays him on the bed.
“Rest, love,” she says. “You’re safe.”
“I’m nobody,” he repeats, blinking away tears. “I’m nobody and nobody wants me.”
Zoheret very nearly curses.
.
Trucker is still across the street at work. When Zoheret walks in, Haley is in Priestly’s usual spot, with Jen taking orders and Tish assembling the sandwiches. Trucker greets Zoheret with a kiss, then looks at her again and asks, “What’s wrong? Your break isn’t for another hour.”
“Where is Priestly?” Zoheret asks quietly, studying each young woman in turn. No one in Santa Cruz is important enough to Priestly to warrant this breakdown. Everyone with the power over him to do it is standing in the Beach City Grill right now.
“He called in sick this morning,” Trucker says. “Luckily, he’s been training Haley on the grill.”
Tish is staring down at the counter when Zoheret looks back at her. “May I speak with you, Tish?” Zoheret asks.
“I’m in the middle of my shift,” Tish says.
Zoheret looks at Trucker, who tells Tish, “Take five, Angel.”
.
Tish refuses to meet Zoheret’s eyes as she says, “We broke up last night, so what? He’s too nice of a guy, and he knew what he was getting into when he asked me out. It’s not like either of us thought it was forever, anyway!”
“I understand, Tish,” Zoheret says calmly. “But what were the exact words you used last night?”
Tish’s hands fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I told him he was safe. He wanted me to change, like he had. He looked so perfect all cleaned up, and he was too gentle, and god, his nightmares kept me up all night.”
Zoheret steadily looks at her until Tish glances up and flinches. “I know it was terrible!” Tish explodes, something like desperation in her voice. “And he’s a good guy, I know that, too. But he’s not for me. I need dangerous, and experimentation. And Priestly looked like a punk, but he’s the safest guy I ever fucked.”
Sighing, Zoheret lowers her gaze. “So you didn’t like Priestly,” she says, “and you don’t like Boaz.”
Tish makes a disagreeing sound. “No! I like him just fine as a friend.”
Zoheret laughs. “I’ll tell him so, Tish. You can return to work now. Tell Trucker I’ll see him at home tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Tish calls after her, but Zoheret keeps walking.
.
Her boy hasn’t moved except to cocoon himself in her mother’s quilts. Zoheret slowly and carefully sits beside him, humming a lullaby from her childhood. Since their marriage, she’s used it to soothe Trucker during his nightmares.
“Who am I?” her boy asks. “I don’t want to be Priestly or Boaz. Can you name me, Zo?”
“What about Zachary?” she asks, fingers combing through his hair.
“Zach,” he whispers. “No. That’s not my name.”
“Ash?” she offers. He shakes his head. She lists a dozen names before he asks her to repeat Benjamin.
“Yeah,” he says. “Ben.”
Zoheret smiles, kisses his forehead, and goes to the armchair in the corner. “Sleep a little longer, Ben. You could use the rest.”
When his nightmares make him restless, Zoheret sings again, until his expression smoothes out and he dreams peacefully.
.
In the morning, Ben talks about his parents and how no matter what he’d tried, he was never good enough for them. He talks about broken bones and bruises and blood stains, and never enough to eat, and the nights never slept through, and the teachers, pastor, guidance counselor, and tutors who looked the other way. He doesn’t mention friends or why he eventually left or the journey from one coast to the other.
All he says, as he finishes his breakfast, is, “I’ve never been enough of anything.”
“Oh, Ben, I do love you,” she says, reaching for his hand. She squeezes it tight and he returns the grip, eyes on his plate. “Whatever you choose to do, whoever you choose to be - I love you.”
“Thank you, Zo,” he whispers. He looks so young, and so tired. He glances toward the window, overlooking the street that separates her shop from Trucker’s. “I’ll miss them,” he says. “And you.”
“Do what you must,” she replies. “You’ll find where you’re meant to be. And I’ll always have room for you.”
“Thank you, Zo,” he repeats, meeting her gaze. “So much. I’d’ve died without you.”
.
Ben writes notes for Jen, Haley, Trucker, and even Tish. He hugs and kisses Zoheret goodbye.
When she walks into their house that evening, she’s crying and Trucker pulls her into his arms. “Babe, what’s wrong?” he asks.
She hands him his letter. She’s still crying when he finishes it and says plaintively, “But why?”
Zoheret simply grips his hand and holds him as tightly as he holds her.