FNL Fic - Aftermath, Conclusion
Title: Aftermath
Author: treeHero
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Featuring: Tim Riggins, Eric/Tami/Julie Taylor, Smash Williams, Matt Saracen
Disclaimer: All characters who appear in this story are the sole property of NBC Universal Television Studios, Film 44, Imagine Entertainment, and their creators. This fic is for entertainment purposes only and in appreciation of a truly shiny show.
Summary: Tim Riggins' truck is smashed to pieces while he's in it. Wouldn't that leave a mark on you?
Spoilers: This was written after the airing of 1.09 "Full Hearts" and contains no spoilers for future episodes.
AFTERMATH
Conclusion
This room smells different. No moldy gym shoes or dirty clothes humped in the corner.
It’s quiet. No television blaring. No slamming cabinet doors like when Billy gets ready for work. Riggins lies still. He feels better and safe and cool in this room. He knows exactly where he is. And he doesn’t want to leave. Not yet.
The door is closed; the blinds swiveled shut to try to keep the room dark. But he knows it’s morning now because the light seeps in around the slats.
He can see the plywood bookcases around the walls, books and cardboard file cases jammed to the back of one. Another holds trophies; another a stack of board games-Operation, Clue, Battleship.
And there is the brown fuzzy thing under his chin. A stuffed monkey.
Mr. … something …
He keeps it there, against his chest.
His Texan-bred agrarian clock tells him it’s just after dawn. The glass of water on the bedstand sits filled with the little bubbles that means it's been there for a few hours.
Carefully lifting the glass, he drinks it down. Leaning back, he hugs the monkey against his left side and turns his face to the wall under the light-seeping window.
*******************
“Tim?”
“Mrs. Taylor,” he stammers, his voice pebbly and hoarse. Pulling the sheet up to mid-waist, he brushes the hair from his face and rubs his eyes. The room is much brighter. She's got a plate of eggs in one hand and a glass in the other. She smiles as she spots the monkey's floppy arm sticking out from under him.
“What time is it?” he asks.
“About eleven.”
“Oh, man,” and he starts to stick his legs out from under the sheet.
"Hold on there," she says. “I brought you some apple juice and a little bit of scrambled egg. You feel up to it? You can just eat right here so we can see how it takes.”
“I think so, ma’am. Thank you,” as he hitches himself up against the pillows. She sets the plate in his lap and then sits back into the old rocker that’s stuffed between the corner bookcases. It doesn't rock because the room is so small the chair’s runners are jammed up against the wall.
Tim takes one bite and stops.
“Ma'am, wait, aren't you supposed to be at school?"
“Not a big deal, I can do some work on the computer.”
“Oh, Mrs. Taylor, you should not be missing your job because of me.”
“It’s done. Eat.”
He pauses, staring at her and then down to the plate. He pushes a forkful of egg from one side to the other.
“You really shouldn’t,” he sighs, face down, hair swinging forward.
Two bites of egg and three sips of juice later, Tami watches the fork hit the edge of the plate as Tim's hand drops to his lap. He leans back against the pillows.
“That's good, hon," she says brightly, standing up and reaching for the plate. “That’s real good.” She feels his forehead. “You are definitely cooler. Maybe you can take a shower later and you’ll feel even better.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I appreciate it,” Tim scrunches down and watches as she walks to the door. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” Sleep lines itself up for another tackle and his voice trails off like a little boy's. “This is a nice room. I like this room. I like …"
Tami quietly closes the door on the enigma in her house.
**************
She picks up the phone.
“How’s he doing?” Eric asks.
“Better. Fever’s pretty much gone. Just gave him some more aspirin and he’s going to take a shower,” she replies, balancing the phone as she scrapes egg off the plate into the trash.
“Well that’s good. I told his teachers some kind of thing about him getting sick last night at practice and that’s why he wasn’t here today. Something like that. And Julie’s not saying a word. Not even to Matt.”
“That’s good. And I knew she wouldn’t. Oh, Billy called.”
“He did? About time.”
“Well, he said he doesn’t have a cell phone and he had to pick up your messages at his motel.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, he’s driving home now and he should be here in a couple of hours to pick up Tim. So he'll be gone before you guys get home,” Tami says and stops as she hears doors open and close.
“Honey?”
“It’s just Tim going into the bathroom.”
“Honey.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. Thank you for doing this. I love you.”
“You’re welcome. And I love you, too. He’s a good kid. He’s lucky to have you as a coach.”
“He’s lucky I’ve got you. See you later.”
“Later, Taylor.”
**************
The school corridor bounces with the sounds of locker doors slamming open and shut, sneakers squee-ing on the polished floors and voices, voices.
Riggins walks up to his locker and spins the combination.
“Feelin’ better, man?” Smash asks as he steps up behind him.
“Yeah, sure, thanks.” Tim finishes spinning and starts to open the locker.
"Practice?”
“Benched, but I’ll be there.”
“That’s cool. Later, man.” Smash spots prettier quarry and slides away.
“Later, Smash,” Tim responds automatically and opens the locker door. He starts to reach in and stops. A tall, thin object wrapped in a towel that isn’t his and wasn’t there before sits in the corner of the locker. He pokes it and it’s soft. Pulling down the top roll of the towel, he grins as the top of a brown fuzzy head and white eye circles appear …
… Mr. Muggles.
He looks up just as Julie Taylor steps out from around the corner, books cradled against her chest.
She gave me monkey mojo.
And they share an enigmatic smile.
/fnl/
Author: treeHero
Rating: PG-13 (language)
Featuring: Tim Riggins, Eric/Tami/Julie Taylor, Smash Williams, Matt Saracen
Disclaimer: All characters who appear in this story are the sole property of NBC Universal Television Studios, Film 44, Imagine Entertainment, and their creators. This fic is for entertainment purposes only and in appreciation of a truly shiny show.
Summary: Tim Riggins' truck is smashed to pieces while he's in it. Wouldn't that leave a mark on you?
Spoilers: This was written after the airing of 1.09 "Full Hearts" and contains no spoilers for future episodes.
AFTERMATH
Conclusion
This room smells different. No moldy gym shoes or dirty clothes humped in the corner.
It’s quiet. No television blaring. No slamming cabinet doors like when Billy gets ready for work. Riggins lies still. He feels better and safe and cool in this room. He knows exactly where he is. And he doesn’t want to leave. Not yet.
The door is closed; the blinds swiveled shut to try to keep the room dark. But he knows it’s morning now because the light seeps in around the slats.
He can see the plywood bookcases around the walls, books and cardboard file cases jammed to the back of one. Another holds trophies; another a stack of board games-Operation, Clue, Battleship.
And there is the brown fuzzy thing under his chin. A stuffed monkey.
Mr. … something …
He keeps it there, against his chest.
His Texan-bred agrarian clock tells him it’s just after dawn. The glass of water on the bedstand sits filled with the little bubbles that means it's been there for a few hours.
Carefully lifting the glass, he drinks it down. Leaning back, he hugs the monkey against his left side and turns his face to the wall under the light-seeping window.
*******************
“Tim?”
“Mrs. Taylor,” he stammers, his voice pebbly and hoarse. Pulling the sheet up to mid-waist, he brushes the hair from his face and rubs his eyes. The room is much brighter. She's got a plate of eggs in one hand and a glass in the other. She smiles as she spots the monkey's floppy arm sticking out from under him.
“What time is it?” he asks.
“About eleven.”
“Oh, man,” and he starts to stick his legs out from under the sheet.
"Hold on there," she says. “I brought you some apple juice and a little bit of scrambled egg. You feel up to it? You can just eat right here so we can see how it takes.”
“I think so, ma’am. Thank you,” as he hitches himself up against the pillows. She sets the plate in his lap and then sits back into the old rocker that’s stuffed between the corner bookcases. It doesn't rock because the room is so small the chair’s runners are jammed up against the wall.
Tim takes one bite and stops.
“Ma'am, wait, aren't you supposed to be at school?"
“Not a big deal, I can do some work on the computer.”
“Oh, Mrs. Taylor, you should not be missing your job because of me.”
“It’s done. Eat.”
He pauses, staring at her and then down to the plate. He pushes a forkful of egg from one side to the other.
“You really shouldn’t,” he sighs, face down, hair swinging forward.
Two bites of egg and three sips of juice later, Tami watches the fork hit the edge of the plate as Tim's hand drops to his lap. He leans back against the pillows.
“That's good, hon," she says brightly, standing up and reaching for the plate. “That’s real good.” She feels his forehead. “You are definitely cooler. Maybe you can take a shower later and you’ll feel even better.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I appreciate it,” Tim scrunches down and watches as she walks to the door. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” Sleep lines itself up for another tackle and his voice trails off like a little boy's. “This is a nice room. I like this room. I like …"
Tami quietly closes the door on the enigma in her house.
**************
She picks up the phone.
“How’s he doing?” Eric asks.
“Better. Fever’s pretty much gone. Just gave him some more aspirin and he’s going to take a shower,” she replies, balancing the phone as she scrapes egg off the plate into the trash.
“Well that’s good. I told his teachers some kind of thing about him getting sick last night at practice and that’s why he wasn’t here today. Something like that. And Julie’s not saying a word. Not even to Matt.”
“That’s good. And I knew she wouldn’t. Oh, Billy called.”
“He did? About time.”
“Well, he said he doesn’t have a cell phone and he had to pick up your messages at his motel.”
“Right.”
“Anyway, he’s driving home now and he should be here in a couple of hours to pick up Tim. So he'll be gone before you guys get home,” Tami says and stops as she hears doors open and close.
“Honey?”
“It’s just Tim going into the bathroom.”
“Honey.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. Thank you for doing this. I love you.”
“You’re welcome. And I love you, too. He’s a good kid. He’s lucky to have you as a coach.”
“He’s lucky I’ve got you. See you later.”
“Later, Taylor.”
**************
The school corridor bounces with the sounds of locker doors slamming open and shut, sneakers squee-ing on the polished floors and voices, voices.
Riggins walks up to his locker and spins the combination.
“Feelin’ better, man?” Smash asks as he steps up behind him.
“Yeah, sure, thanks.” Tim finishes spinning and starts to open the locker.
"Practice?”
“Benched, but I’ll be there.”
“That’s cool. Later, man.” Smash spots prettier quarry and slides away.
“Later, Smash,” Tim responds automatically and opens the locker door. He starts to reach in and stops. A tall, thin object wrapped in a towel that isn’t his and wasn’t there before sits in the corner of the locker. He pokes it and it’s soft. Pulling down the top roll of the towel, he grins as the top of a brown fuzzy head and white eye circles appear …
… Mr. Muggles.
He looks up just as Julie Taylor steps out from around the corner, books cradled against her chest.
She gave me monkey mojo.
And they share an enigmatic smile.
/fnl/