Overland Park, KS, Monday FT
It was a rough day.
They all got up early, probably because it was hard to sleep well the night before a teenager's funeral. They got up, they got dressed in their finest black clothes, they sat around, they looked at the obituary/accident report in the paper, they waited. When it was time to leave and Max called for Tara, they got Bryce instead. Figured. They left him behind, went to the funeral.
It was... a ceremony much in Lionel's image. Kate couldn't tell if he would've loved or hated it.
They were subdued when they got back. "I thought it was nice," Charmaine said, as they all made their way into the kitchen. Her, Neil, Max, Marshall, Ted, Kate. "I guess it's weird to call a funeral 'nice', but it was different. What's the word?"
"Flamboyant," Neil replied. "It was tasteful. But it was flamboyant."
"When I go," chimed in Ted, "I hope that my parents could see me as gay and at peace in a roomful of friends."
Kate got herself a can of Coke from the fridge, even though she didn't really know if she wanted to drink it or not. She didn't really know if she wanted to say anything or not, either. Marshall had picked up the newspaper again, folded open to the page with Lionel's picture on it. He looked up. "Did you see the newspaper?"
"What's that, buddy?" Max asked.
"Well, um, look at the headline," Marshall replied, frowning at the paper, then handing it to Kate while everyone turned to look at him. "It says... 'Local Student Trane Killed in Crash'. If you didn't read the article, you'd think that a local train full of students were killed in a crash. Like, if he died slightly differently, they'd have a better headline."
"Yeah," Kate agreed with a sad, faint smile thrown his way, "it's kind of like the writer was thinking, 'I just wish he would have died a little bit funnier'."
Marshall hesitated only for a moment before he said, using his hand to sketch the headline in the air, "'Trane trains train, tragically'."
"'Dies'," Neil supplied, with a little wah-wah sound effect. They all chuckled a little. Couldn't help it. They had their ways of dealing with grief. Kate was just glad to see Marshall could still smile, even if it was some seriously morbid, fucked up humor. "Okay, um," he said, going for another one. He... crashed into a train at his own family reunion." He put on a mock official voice. "'Trane smash into train crash at Trane bash'." The laughter was louder this time. "Wait, I want to do one," Charmaine said, but didn't get further than saying 'Lionel...'" before she got lost for words and sputtered, "Fuck! I'm so bad at word games!"
The snickering was cut short by an unwelcome intruder: Bryce sauntered into the kitchen. "Guys, please, I can hear your soppy bullshit from upstairs," he drawled. "How does a guy whack off in peace in this house? Fucking really." He leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area, and looked up at their dark looks. "Kidding, of course," he said, like that had been what they disliked right now. And there was that self-satisfied smirk again. "I always find a way to whack it -- Kate, FYI, your pink teddy bear and I shared a wonderful moment in time." Kate couldn't help shuddering with revulsion. That just seemed to amuse Bryce even more. And then he pulled something out of the pocket of his blazer. A folded up piece of paper.
"Oh, and I found this letter in Marsh's room." He straightened the letter out and cleared his throat. "'Marshall, we are stars. We will get brighter, and we will shine forever and ever.'" He laughed, that throaty chuckle that made Kate's skin crawl. "It's funny 'cause it's retarded. And, he's dead."
He chuckled again, and Kate found she wanted to scream at him. Her. Whoever. But she just said, tightly, "Leave him alone, Mom."
"She's not in there," Marshall remarked. Dryly, but with poorly contained annoyance. "But she let this happen, because no one can have bigger problems than her, right?"
"Oh, Tara's the fucking worst, huh?" Bryce drawled. That was when Max finally decided to take control. "All right, it's been fun, Bryce, but this thing has a clock on it," he said, grabbing his phone. "I'm calling Hattaras. You're out of here."
... Oh great, so Kate wasn't the only one keeping major things from her significant other. Her mom hadn't bothered to say anything about the Hattaras thing either. That was just great. "Dad," she tried, weakly, but Max didn't listen to her. "'Got it under control' my fucking ass."
"Well, tell the good doctor, 'hello, cheerio, pip-pip'," Bryce mocked him, "and... 'take the lift'."
It was Charmaine who managed to get the words out of her mouth, surprisingly. "Max, Hattaras isn't seeing Tara anymore," she said, just as he'd raised the phone up to his ear. "Bryce tried to poison him with crab."
Bryce looked almost like he was gloating. Max... yes, Max looked like this was news. "Poison him?"
"Yeah, and he lived," Bryce scoffed. "Fucker couldn't take a joke." Max ignored him. He looked worried. Rightfully so. "Well, who's looking out for Tara?" he asked, and his voice got louder when no one provided an answer. "No one? There... there's no fucking net? W-what am I supposed to do now?"
"What were you going to do?" Charmaine asked and really, Kate thought it was a good question. Hattaras obviously hadn't been able to handle Bryce previously. It wasn't like that would've been any different now. So, basically, they were fucked.
"I should go," Ted said, which prompted Neil to reply, "Yeah, uh, us too."
Which was where the fun started.
Bryce leaned forward, his tone mock earnest. "You can't leave. It's a party. Don't you want to party?" A pause, and he nodded with understanding. "Or you got to get back to the baby, huh?"
Neil looked a little stiff. "Yes."
"Adorable little girl you've got there," Bryce said, and it was just... ominous. Creepy and ominous. "Just an angel. Yeah, we had a hell of a time while you were away." No one else said anything. They were just staring. "You know, no one takes the bus anymore but fat people and old folks... And your sweet, little baby girl." He fixed his gaze on Neil as he singsonged, "'The wheels on the bus with Wheels and Bryce, Wheels and Bryce, all through town.' You knew about that, right?"
"What the fuck is she talking about, Charmaine?" Neil snapped at Charmaine, who mumbled that she didn't know. No one did. And Bryce was still leering and smirking and acting smug, and Neil shoved his way past Kate and Marshall to get to him. "If I find out -- if I find out..." And at that moment Kate wasn't sure whether to be glad or not that her dad was quick to grab Neil before he started swinging at Bryce or something. It seemed like things were way more fucked up than she'd thought. Marshall seemed to agree with that sentiment. "Who are you defending, Dad?" he asked, loudly. "Who are you protecting?"
"Yeah, who am I protecting?" Max replied as he let go of Neil, now subdued. He pointed a finger at Bryce. "Stay away. Leave our family alone."
Bryce just looked amused.
-----
And as it turned out, Bryce found a lot of fucked up shit funny. When Kate and Marshall retreated upstairs, it turned out Bryce had done quite a number on Marshall's room while they'd been away. It was a mess. Everything was strewn all over. Ripped clothes, broken records, books with their pages lying scattered around.
Marshall barely seemed to even be able to muster up any caring. He just started cleaning up, while Kate sat down on the edge of his bed. "I wish we were the sort of people who could just get upset about one thing," she said. "When something happens, everything else should go away. One terrible, horrible thing a day."
"Yeah," Marshall replied, but not really in agreement. "I don't expect anything else." Kate frowned at him. He didn't care. "She can't cope. How can she help me cope?"
"Well, I don't know if it makes you feel any better --" Well, no, she knew it probably wouldn't do a damn thing. "-- but if Mom knew what she was doing, it would absolutely destroy her."
"Does it matter what she thinks if she does what she does?"
"I don't know," Kate sighed. But she worried for him. She really, really did. "You've got to get out of this house," she said, glancing over at him. "Please, promise me."
"I absolutely will," he said, like that was a given. "I promise."
But. Kate was a pessimist, and she'd just realized something. "No, you won't," she said, frowning at the middle distance, now. "Because I always say I'm gonna get out of here tomorrow, I lived in Maryland for two years and I have friends in Wales and New York City and I even get on a plane every day. And I'm still here."
Suddenly, she felt like she needed to get away. And she needed to get away tonight because suddenly she felt like the house was choking her.
[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! Warning for, yes, you guessed it, assorted dark themes. Taken with less tweakage than the parts before from USoT S03E10.]
They all got up early, probably because it was hard to sleep well the night before a teenager's funeral. They got up, they got dressed in their finest black clothes, they sat around, they looked at the obituary/accident report in the paper, they waited. When it was time to leave and Max called for Tara, they got Bryce instead. Figured. They left him behind, went to the funeral.
It was... a ceremony much in Lionel's image. Kate couldn't tell if he would've loved or hated it.
They were subdued when they got back. "I thought it was nice," Charmaine said, as they all made their way into the kitchen. Her, Neil, Max, Marshall, Ted, Kate. "I guess it's weird to call a funeral 'nice', but it was different. What's the word?"
"Flamboyant," Neil replied. "It was tasteful. But it was flamboyant."
"When I go," chimed in Ted, "I hope that my parents could see me as gay and at peace in a roomful of friends."
Kate got herself a can of Coke from the fridge, even though she didn't really know if she wanted to drink it or not. She didn't really know if she wanted to say anything or not, either. Marshall had picked up the newspaper again, folded open to the page with Lionel's picture on it. He looked up. "Did you see the newspaper?"
"What's that, buddy?" Max asked.
"Well, um, look at the headline," Marshall replied, frowning at the paper, then handing it to Kate while everyone turned to look at him. "It says... 'Local Student Trane Killed in Crash'. If you didn't read the article, you'd think that a local train full of students were killed in a crash. Like, if he died slightly differently, they'd have a better headline."
"Yeah," Kate agreed with a sad, faint smile thrown his way, "it's kind of like the writer was thinking, 'I just wish he would have died a little bit funnier'."
Marshall hesitated only for a moment before he said, using his hand to sketch the headline in the air, "'Trane trains train, tragically'."
"'Dies'," Neil supplied, with a little wah-wah sound effect. They all chuckled a little. Couldn't help it. They had their ways of dealing with grief. Kate was just glad to see Marshall could still smile, even if it was some seriously morbid, fucked up humor. "Okay, um," he said, going for another one. He... crashed into a train at his own family reunion." He put on a mock official voice. "'Trane smash into train crash at Trane bash'." The laughter was louder this time. "Wait, I want to do one," Charmaine said, but didn't get further than saying 'Lionel...'" before she got lost for words and sputtered, "Fuck! I'm so bad at word games!"
The snickering was cut short by an unwelcome intruder: Bryce sauntered into the kitchen. "Guys, please, I can hear your soppy bullshit from upstairs," he drawled. "How does a guy whack off in peace in this house? Fucking really." He leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area, and looked up at their dark looks. "Kidding, of course," he said, like that had been what they disliked right now. And there was that self-satisfied smirk again. "I always find a way to whack it -- Kate, FYI, your pink teddy bear and I shared a wonderful moment in time." Kate couldn't help shuddering with revulsion. That just seemed to amuse Bryce even more. And then he pulled something out of the pocket of his blazer. A folded up piece of paper.
"Oh, and I found this letter in Marsh's room." He straightened the letter out and cleared his throat. "'Marshall, we are stars. We will get brighter, and we will shine forever and ever.'" He laughed, that throaty chuckle that made Kate's skin crawl. "It's funny 'cause it's retarded. And, he's dead."
He chuckled again, and Kate found she wanted to scream at him. Her. Whoever. But she just said, tightly, "Leave him alone, Mom."
"She's not in there," Marshall remarked. Dryly, but with poorly contained annoyance. "But she let this happen, because no one can have bigger problems than her, right?"
"Oh, Tara's the fucking worst, huh?" Bryce drawled. That was when Max finally decided to take control. "All right, it's been fun, Bryce, but this thing has a clock on it," he said, grabbing his phone. "I'm calling Hattaras. You're out of here."
... Oh great, so Kate wasn't the only one keeping major things from her significant other. Her mom hadn't bothered to say anything about the Hattaras thing either. That was just great. "Dad," she tried, weakly, but Max didn't listen to her. "'Got it under control' my fucking ass."
"Well, tell the good doctor, 'hello, cheerio, pip-pip'," Bryce mocked him, "and... 'take the lift'."
It was Charmaine who managed to get the words out of her mouth, surprisingly. "Max, Hattaras isn't seeing Tara anymore," she said, just as he'd raised the phone up to his ear. "Bryce tried to poison him with crab."
Bryce looked almost like he was gloating. Max... yes, Max looked like this was news. "Poison him?"
"Yeah, and he lived," Bryce scoffed. "Fucker couldn't take a joke." Max ignored him. He looked worried. Rightfully so. "Well, who's looking out for Tara?" he asked, and his voice got louder when no one provided an answer. "No one? There... there's no fucking net? W-what am I supposed to do now?"
"What were you going to do?" Charmaine asked and really, Kate thought it was a good question. Hattaras obviously hadn't been able to handle Bryce previously. It wasn't like that would've been any different now. So, basically, they were fucked.
"I should go," Ted said, which prompted Neil to reply, "Yeah, uh, us too."
Which was where the fun started.
Bryce leaned forward, his tone mock earnest. "You can't leave. It's a party. Don't you want to party?" A pause, and he nodded with understanding. "Or you got to get back to the baby, huh?"
Neil looked a little stiff. "Yes."
"Adorable little girl you've got there," Bryce said, and it was just... ominous. Creepy and ominous. "Just an angel. Yeah, we had a hell of a time while you were away." No one else said anything. They were just staring. "You know, no one takes the bus anymore but fat people and old folks... And your sweet, little baby girl." He fixed his gaze on Neil as he singsonged, "'The wheels on the bus with Wheels and Bryce, Wheels and Bryce, all through town.' You knew about that, right?"
"What the fuck is she talking about, Charmaine?" Neil snapped at Charmaine, who mumbled that she didn't know. No one did. And Bryce was still leering and smirking and acting smug, and Neil shoved his way past Kate and Marshall to get to him. "If I find out -- if I find out..." And at that moment Kate wasn't sure whether to be glad or not that her dad was quick to grab Neil before he started swinging at Bryce or something. It seemed like things were way more fucked up than she'd thought. Marshall seemed to agree with that sentiment. "Who are you defending, Dad?" he asked, loudly. "Who are you protecting?"
"Yeah, who am I protecting?" Max replied as he let go of Neil, now subdued. He pointed a finger at Bryce. "Stay away. Leave our family alone."
Bryce just looked amused.
-----
And as it turned out, Bryce found a lot of fucked up shit funny. When Kate and Marshall retreated upstairs, it turned out Bryce had done quite a number on Marshall's room while they'd been away. It was a mess. Everything was strewn all over. Ripped clothes, broken records, books with their pages lying scattered around.
Marshall barely seemed to even be able to muster up any caring. He just started cleaning up, while Kate sat down on the edge of his bed. "I wish we were the sort of people who could just get upset about one thing," she said. "When something happens, everything else should go away. One terrible, horrible thing a day."
"Yeah," Marshall replied, but not really in agreement. "I don't expect anything else." Kate frowned at him. He didn't care. "She can't cope. How can she help me cope?"
"Well, I don't know if it makes you feel any better --" Well, no, she knew it probably wouldn't do a damn thing. "-- but if Mom knew what she was doing, it would absolutely destroy her."
"Does it matter what she thinks if she does what she does?"
"I don't know," Kate sighed. But she worried for him. She really, really did. "You've got to get out of this house," she said, glancing over at him. "Please, promise me."
"I absolutely will," he said, like that was a given. "I promise."
But. Kate was a pessimist, and she'd just realized something. "No, you won't," she said, frowning at the middle distance, now. "Because I always say I'm gonna get out of here tomorrow, I lived in Maryland for two years and I have friends in Wales and New York City and I even get on a plane every day. And I'm still here."
Suddenly, she felt like she needed to get away. And she needed to get away tonight because suddenly she felt like the house was choking her.
[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay! Warning for, yes, you guessed it, assorted dark themes. Taken with less tweakage than the parts before from USoT S03E10.]