WIP - Perfect Sky is Torn
Title: Perfect Sky is Torn
Author: dark_dreymer
Part: 7/10 (So far)
Word Count: 6176
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, Language
In the early hours of Sunday morning Will once again bumped into Moth in the hall of their apartment block.
“Hey Will,” Moth greeted cheerfully as she began the lengthy journey through her various pockets in search of the key to her apartment. “You just get off shift?”
“Yeah,” He answered, stopping to chat as he knew it would be a while before she would be ready to leave. “The museum opens a half hour later starting this month, since it stays darker for longer.”
“Well that sucks,” She declared, unearthing a yo-yo and giving it an experimental throw. She succeeded in dropping the gizmo to the floor but failed to pull it up again. Pulling it back and threading the string again, she dug through her mind for a fresh topic of conversation, “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”
“Haven't had it yet actually,” Will replied, leaning back against the wall as the thought of the day to come filled him with exhaustion. “My parents are coming over for a belated Thanksgiving lunch today.”
“Gee, you sound excited,” She remarked sarcastically, pocketing the yo-yo and returning to her quest for the key to the door.
“It's never exactly fun to have your parents telling you how badly you've screwed up.”
“Preaching to the choir, dude.”
Will sighed heavily, “So I get to sleep for the next five hours, then get up to make lunch just so I can spend an hour listening to my parents tell me how I've thrown my life away.”
“Sounds fun.” Moth gave an ironic thumbs-up and fell against the wall beside him, turning to place a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, “What you need is a distraction.”
“A distraction,” He inquired, worried by her inviting tone. “What exactly do you mean?”
“They're mad at you for this thing with your student, so what you need is something to redirect their attention throughout lunch so that they can't give you the third degree,” She explained simply.
“That does sound good,” He admitted carefully. “But what exactly-”
“Dude, just trust me,” She declared, peeling away from the wall as she finally unearthed her key. “I have the perfect thing in mind.”
As Moth's door slammed shut there was nothing else for Will to do but enter his own apartment and make his way to the bathroom. He spared a moment as he stripped off his uniform and entered the shower to worry about what she had planned, but once he was under the warm spray all conscious thought was beaten down. Collapsing into bed a few minutes later, he optimistically decided that it wouldn't be too bad.
*
A few hours later Will was drowsily preparing lunch in anticipation of his parents' arrival, meanwhile across town Finn had again returned to the Aaron Beck institute, because before he could return to school and put the wisdom of the ancient philosopher to practical use he had to confront the psychologist who had inadvertently caused the battle to begin with.
Any progress that had been made towards a possible understanding between doctor and patient was totally forfeit in the space of that single session as she harshly criticized Finn for the actions he had taken that led to him being suspended.
“I truly believed you were making progress,” She stated, using the standard trick of authority figures in knowing that disappointment hits harder than anger.
“I was defending Kurt,” Finn insisted.
“From the homophobic slander of your fellow students?” She inquired.
“Yes,” He clarified firmly.
Sighing melodramatically, she set aside her clipboard and rested her arms in her lap, leaning close to Finn with an open expression, “I believe your aggressive actions stem from a deep sexual confusion that Mr. Schuester's actions have caused.”
Finn gaped at the doctor, totally astounded, “You're saying that I punched some backwards, intolerant assholes and it's Will's fault?”
“I understand that the behavior of the young men who prompted your attack is entirely their own, but your response-”
“I don't believe this!” Finn cut across, “What else is Will responsible for: slavery, pollution, how bad the Twilight movies suck?”
“There's no need to be-”
Finn cut across again, “I bet when the Apocalypse happens that will be his fault too. I can see it now: Famine, Pestilence, Death and Will.”
“Finn, will you be quiet!” Dr. Harper snapped strictly.
“I'm sorry,” Finn answered insincerely. “I just don't understand why every time something bad happens in my life you have to associate it with Will. I screwed up here, me. You said my attitude has to change, isn't honesty an important part of that? I'm not looking to blame someone else, I know that it was my own fault.”
After a lengthy silence she finally spoke, “Be that as it may, I'm still concerned about your constant desire to protect Mr. Schuester from any amount of blame or guilt. Our most important goal is for you to reach a point where you can objectively understand why he was wrong to do the things he did. You won't be able to achieve that with subjective defense mechanisms in place.”
“I'm only defending him from your sucker-punches,” Finn retorted. “Karofsky's got a big, fat mouth and I put my fist in it, not Will's fault. If you find something that he did do, believe me I'll dish the blame out where it belongs... but I also won't stop caring about him. Part of loving someone is accepting their fuck-ups as much as their good times.”
A lengthy silence followed and Finn spent the time passively observing the childish office while the sound of a pen scratching against paper clued him in to the fact that Dr. Harper had picked up the clipboard again and was probably transcribing the exchange.
“I'd like to try the word association game again,” She finally announced. “To gauge your current attitude.”
Finn turned his attention back to the doctor and settled low in his chair, comfortably finding his defensive position, “Sure.”
“School,” She prompted, tapping her pen against the clipboard.
“Absent,” He responded with a smirk.
She frowned and noted his response before providing the next word, “Family.”
“Good.”
“Good?” She repeated, her eyebrows raised approvingly and she seemed pleased for the first time since Finn had arrived.
“Good,” He repeated with a nod.
“And home?”
“Meh.” He held out a hand and wobbled it in the air in an ambivalent gesture.
“I see.” Her approval noticeably waned, “Glee club?”
Finn's hand dropped back into his lap dejectedly, “I miss it.”
“More than you miss school?” Dr. Harper inferred from his reaction.
“A whole lot more,” He agreed.
“Is there a reason for that?” She asked.
“I guess...” He struggled to articulate his feelings on the matter, “It's something I'm good at. Something I have fun doing. I've got friends there. Sectionals is in a few weeks and I'm missing out on a bunch of practice sessions.” And Will, He mentally concluded, I feel close to Will when I'm singing.
The doctor watched Finn with an ambiguous expression as she noted down his response, “Just one more: Mr. Schuester.”
Finn tilted his head back against the seat and stared up at the grubby-white ceiling, his thoughts turned to his lover in contemplation of where he was and what he was doing, “I miss him too.”
*
As Finn turned his mind to the cosmos in consideration of Will's whereabouts, Will was mentally traversing the globe pinpointing all the locations he would like be in that particular moment rather than the one he was in.
“How have you been holding up, Billy?” His father asked with concern as he spooned sugar into his coffee.
Will snapped back to the room and tried to play his father's question over his sleepy mind but couldn't manage it, “Huh?”
“Not so much, dear,” Will's mom scolded, slapping at her husband's hand as he continued to spoon sugar into his drink. “The doctor said too much sugar will wreck your heart.” It always amazed Will how his mother would lecture them both on staying healthy when she had flunked out of AA on more than one occasion.
“How have you been holding up?” The senior Schuester repeated, stirring his coffee.
The phrasing of the question perturbed Will, the 'holding up' seemed to imply that his life was now nothing short of an endurance task. He had to acknowledge that in some ways it was, but his countdown was towards a much more short-term goal than his father's hopes that he would get his life back on track.
“Fine,” He answered vaguely. “How have you been doing?”
“About the same,” His father readily dismissed the attempt to change the focus of the conversation.
“How are your night classes going?” Will asked in another attempt to shift attention away from his own life.
His father smiled softly, “It's challenging, but I'm enjoying it.”
The sudden lurch from his mother wasn't anticipated by Will and he jumped a little as her hand latched onto his knee from across the coffee table, “You know we're here for you; right, Monkey?”
Will smiled as sincerely as he could manage at the desperate assurance in her eyes, “I know, Mom.”
“No matter what, you're my baby,” She insisted, squeezing his knee tightly.
“I know,” He repeated, his fingers twitching with his discomfort.
“If you need some of my coping concoction, you just let me know. Okay?” She informed intensely.
Will fought back a grimace at the memory of the one time his mood had stooped low enough to try some of her 'coping concoction'. The powerful mix of alcoholic beverages had the same effect as a bullet to the head, only without the merciful death that followed.
“I will, Mom,” He promised, while silently declaring to himself that he would definitely not take her up on the offer.
As an uncomfortable silence stretched, Will turned his attention to the clock and feigned surprise, “I'd better go check on lunch.”
In the kitchen his whole posture slumped with a combination of fatigue and emotional reluctance to abandon the sanctuary the room provided. After a few moments of basking in the horror of his predicament, he returned to functioning; he'd prepared the food as much as possible the day before in order to save time, so they were simply waiting for the food to cook. He checked on the turkey portions in the oven and the vegetables steaming on the stove. His delaying tactic of checking on the food was interrupted after a few minutes by a knock at the door.
“I'll just see who that is,” Will declared, crossing the lounge as quickly as possible to get to the door.
The young woman on the other side of the door was dressed in a long, pale pink dress with a lurid, lime green cardigan pinned across her bosom with a large, ugly brooch, “Hey Will.”
Given a few more seconds the young woman's identity would probably have registered but the sound of her voice clued Will in that much faster, “Moth?” He inquired incredulously, squinting at her as if the narrowing of his eyes would make her signature piercings and jacket appear.
“In the flesh.” She beamed and smoothed a hand through her neatly brushed hair, “Now just play along, capiche?”
“I don't-” Will started to express his confusion but suddenly found himself with an armful of Moth.
“-so nice of you to invite me at such short notice,” She announced, loudly enough for her voice to carry through into the lounge. Before Will could comprehend what had just occurred Moth had pushed past him into the apartment and he found himself with only the empty hall for company.
Pushing the door closed he stepped tremulously into the lounge, remembering his neighbor's early morning promise to provide a distraction and suddenly very afraid of exactly what form that distraction might come in.
“Mr. and Mrs. Schuester, I presume?” Moth declared primly, standing before the couple on the couch.
“Uh, yes,” Will's father answered hesitantly. “But I'm afraid we don't know who you are.”
“My name is Amanda.” She bowed her head and gave a small curtsy.
Will's mom smiled widely, “Aren't you the sweetest thing? So polite. I'm Pat and this is James.” She turned her head to her son as he slowly approached, then looked back to 'Amanda', “I presume you know our William then.”
Moth nodded as she settled down in a chair, “I'm his daughter.”
James spluttered into his coffee and Will's jaw dropped at the audacious lie, but his parents were far too caught up in their own shock to notice him.
“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Moth turned her head to look at Will, a devious twinkle in her eye. “Isn't that right, daddy?”
Will felt the urge to vomit as he collapsed back into his chair and didn't provide a response to her prompt.
“Y-you seem a little old to be Billy's daughter,” James rationalized.
“I'm mature for my age, but honestly I'm only seventeen,” She replied. “My Momma met Daddy here when she was on spring break, she always told me how it was a summer romance... only y'know, shorter and in spring.”
“This is... quite the surprise,” Pat commented, shell-shocked by Moth's words. “W-why didn't you tell us, William?”
“I...” Will froze under her sudden attention, reeling from the familiarity of her gentle scolding and feeling very much like a boy again. He sank helplessly back into his seat without replying.
“He didn't know.” Moth came to his aid, “Momma lost touch and so he never knew about the baby, about me. I tracked Daddy down this summer over the internet, and boy was that tricky.” She looked across at Will with a falsely sweet smile.
Time seemed to stand still as Moth's lie came to its conclusion, Will could feel the gaze of his parents on him like a physical force and the urge to vomit was still present. The moment was broken when Moth broke down into hysterical giggles, “Oh... Oh, I am so sorry. You shoulda seen the look on your faces...”
“I'm sorry?” James questioned with obvious confusion.
“I'm an actress,” Moth started up a fresh lie. “I like to test out roles on people when I meet them for the first time. I just can't help myself.”
“That was- That isn't funny,” Pat remarked disapprovingly.
“You're right ma'am, it's not. I apologize,” Moth answered, honesty present in her words for the first time since she'd entered the apartment. “I'm Will's neighbor,” She stated and held out a hand.
“It's... nice to meet you,” James replied disingenuously, taking her hand gingerly in an attempt to be polite.
The ticking of the clock was the only noise in the stretch of silence that followed.
“Well, it was very nice to meet you Amanda but isn't there somewhere you're supposed to be?” James inquired, his mask of politeness crumbling in the conversational wasteland.
“Oh,” Moth responded to the subtle hint with surprise. “I'm so forgetful. I'm having lunch with you guys.”
Will quickly schooled his confused expression into a more neutral one as his father looked at him shrewdly, “You are?” He questioned Moth, but his eyes were fixed firmly on his son.
“Yeah, she is,” Will defended her claim. “Her family live in Colorado, so I said she could join us.”
“Oh, you poor dear.” Pat's earlier annoyance was forgotten as her mothering instincts took over, “You have no-one here in town?”
“I've got Will,” Moth replied openly. “He's been so kind to me since I moved in across the hall. I have to say, it's a testament to you both, you must've raised him right.”
“Oh well, that's very kind of you,” She answered the praise modestly. “We did our best.”
“No, I mean it.” Moth looked between both parents sincerely, “He helped me move in, showed me about town. Not just anyone would go to such lengths to be welcoming to the newcomer.”
Will felt his own annoyance at his neighbor's abrasive arrival melt away as his mom looked at him with genuine pride.
“That's right. He's a proper gentleman, just like I taught him to be,” James proclaimed, resuming his comfortable stance and picking up his coffee.
“Lunch should be ready now,” Will declared, quickly standing upright. “Mo- Amanda, will you help me with the plates?”
“Sure thing.” Moth stopped meticulously smoothing out her dress and followed him into the kitchen.
“What exactly are you doing?” Will hissed, pulling open the fridge door to prevent the sound carrying through into the lounge.
“Don't worry, it's all going as planned,” Moth reassured, pulling open a few cupboards before she found the one containing the plates.
“What exactly is the plan?” Will inquired.
“Okay, not so much a plan as loosely defined idea with some set-pieces but a lot of room for improvisation,” She amended.
“Moth,” He pleaded. “I know you mean well but I'd like to still be on speaking terms with my parents by the time this meal is over with. So please, no more surprises.”
Moth watched him quietly as he pulled gravy granules out of another cupboard, before stepping over and taking the pot from him.
“I know what I'm doing, just trust me and you'll thank me once it's all over,” She promised. “Now get out there and tell them how I'm a sweet, but lonely girl with a heap of eccentricities and you invited me as a gesture of neighborly kindness. Put on a pity parade so strong they won't have the nerve to suggest kicking me out.”
“But-” Will tried to protest as she all but pushed him out of the kitchen.
“Don't worry, I'll plate up.”
Will tried his best to follow Moth's instructions but he was adrift from the loss of control and had a strong sense of dread gnawing away at his insides. By the time the meal was ready and they'd settled down at the table to eat he followed his mom's lead in immediately draining the first glass of wine.
“Wait!” Moth loudly interrupted as James picked up his knife, “Surely we're going to say Grace first.”
“Oh, yes... I suppose we'd better,” He replied, grudgingly lowering his knife. “Do you want to-”
He had barely finished offering when Moth pressed her hands together sharply and launched into verse, “Our Holy Father in Heaven, we ask that you bless this noble bird that we are about to eat...”
Will joined his hands as well but eventually released them as the prayer continued for several minutes. Across the table his mother had similarly abandoned the gesture and was pouring herself another glass, Will held his own empty glass out for a refill and watched his neighbor ramble on, asking God to bless the field-workers that had picked each individual tuber for the mashed potato on their plates. As the prayer continued Will sipped at his second glass and switched his attention between Moth's overly-inclusive thanks and the lines etching deeper into his father's forehead as she kept going. Moth eventually ended by requesting a blessing for the grocery store clerk who priced the can of cranberries before muttering, “Amen.”
“Amen,” The Schuesters' echoed.
“May we eat now?” James questioned grouchily.
“Of course,” Moth responded with a Cheshire cat grin.
The first few minutes of the meal passed quietly and Will felt the tension begin to drain away as Moth's antics seemed to be effectively preventing the topic straying anywhere close to Finn or his own situation as a consequence of his relationship with Finn.
“How's your job going?” James inquired unexpectedly.
“Good,” Will replied quickly, aware that he was in danger of receiving a lecture on career prospects. “It's a little odd to be working a near-nocturnal schedule, but I'm coping with it.”
“Have you considered where you're going to apply once you're finished with this job?” James pressed.
“Speaking of jobs, you haven't mentioned what you do,” Moth interjected swiftly.
“Oh, well...” He seemed a little baffled by the break in the conversation, “I'm actually taking classes to become a lawyer.”
“Whoa, you must be very intelligent to be doing something like that.”
“Well, it's- I'm not qualified yet,” He answered modestly.
“Still, it sounds a heck of a lot more exciting than my job,” Moth replied with a suitable amount of awe.
“I would think that being an actress must be very exciting,” Pat stated.
There was a momentary flicker of confusion, but Moth recovered quickly, “Well, honestly it's not all the glitz and glam of Hollywood like I thought it'd be. I've been in an independent movie recently: Killer Mutant Scarecrows. I was 'screaming girl #2' and even then I was only the understudy to a girl who had food poisoning on the day of the shoot.”
“I wanted to be an actress when I was your age,” Pat remarked wistfully.
“Really?” Will interrupted, surprised. “I never knew that.”
“Yes, I was part of the drama club in High School,” She recollected with a small smile. “I used to get the most dreadful stage fright, it'd take a few sips of brandy to get me on the other side of the curtain.”
“Now it takes that just to get you out of bed,” Her husband scoffed.
Will looked to Moth as his parents glared at each other across the table, but she was looking between them wide-eyed and clearly unprepared to distract from the situation.
“How's Dan doing?” He asked.
“He's fine,” James answered, turning away from his wife to look at Will. “Actually, he's just been promoted,” He added with a tinge of pride.
“Oh really?” Will inquired, “So, he's what now, Junior Vice President or something?”
“Uh- yes, I think so. Something that comes with initials anyway,” His father answered uncertainly.
“Well the promotion couldn't have come too soon,” Pat stated knowingly, forcibly reinserting herself to the conversation. “What with the baby on that way.”
“Mei's pregnant?” Will exclaimed.
“Yes,” She answered plainly. “Didn't Daniel tell you?”
Will felt a pang of guilt for the flickering light on his answering machine and the number of his brother's calls that he hadn't returned, “I haven't spoken to him in a while,” He offered lamely.
Moth coughed into the uncomfortable silence that followed and tapped her fingers on the rim of her empty plate, “I don't know about anyone else, but I'm about ready for dessert.”
Pushing the remaining food on his plate away Will stood up, “Yes, that sounds good.”
“Just a moment,” Pat answered, scooping up the remaining mashed potato hurriedly before passing over her plate.
Will took the plates and retreated to the sanctuary of the kitchen again, placing them beside the dishwasher for later, he turned to collect the cold apple pie from the fridge. Caught between the conflicting desires to remain hidden in the kitchen and to not leave Moth and his parents alone together for too long, he sliced the pie into four roughly even pieces and returned.
“So, what were we discussing?” He asked as he returned.
“I asked about your job prospects once you finish working at the museum,” James reminded.
“Ah... yes,” Will answered as he sat back down.
“Oh!” Moth exclaimed, reaching down to rummage in her purse. She pulled out a notepad and pen and quickly scribbled something down, “Look, I have pi,” She declared with a wide smile showing that she had written the number 3.14.
“Um, yes...” James responded, seeming uncertain of her mental stability. Will took the chance to fill his mouth with pie so that he couldn't be probed for details about his career plans again.
The rest of the pie was finished with very little conversation. Moth insisted upon taking the empty bowls through to the kitchen while Will accompanied his parents back into the lounge.
“Are you staying, or...?” Will trailed off uncertainly, folding his arms and hovering awkwardly beside the couch.
“I...” James answered with similar indecision. “I don't think so, we really ought to get going.”
“Well it was good to see you,” Will said, pleased when his father pulled him into a hug.
“You're coming home for Christmas,” Pat informed, there was no way the statement could be misconstrued as a question as she pulled her son close and pressed an affectionate, inebriated kiss to his cheek. “You don't have that woman refusing to spend the holidays with us anymore, so we'll be expecting you.”
“Sounds great, Mom,” He answered. He was again surprised at his mom's readiness to express her dislike for Terri and how she'd repeatedly insist her disapproval dated back to times before they were even married, it was a little disconcerting to think that she could retroactively apply disdain to a time of his life that hadn't been entirely disastrous and of which he still had fond memories.
Will was startled by Moth's sudden return, “Are you leaving?”
“We are,” Pat answered, smiling favorably at the young woman.
“Then may I just say that it was nice to meet you both,” Moth replied, performing the same small curtsy as when she had arrived. The conversation was interrupted by a buzz of static.
“Does anyone else hear that?” Will inquired, tilting his head to one side as the noise grew louder.
“I do,” Moth immediately insisted.
“Well I'm sure it's just-” James's reassurance was cut off by a sudden change in the noise. The static faded away and was replaced the closing lines of You Oughta Know, “See, just the radio.”
“I'm sure the radio wasn't on,” Will mumbled to himself.
As the song finished it was replaced by a nasal-sounding radio host, “We're gonna have to interrupt the countdown now to bring you this special news bulletin. The local psychiatric hospital is reporting an escaped patient, considered to be extremely dangerous and potentially armed-”
“Oh my,” Pat gasped.
“-be on the lookout for a Caucasian female in her early-20s, short black hair...”
The description continued but it was interrupted by a loud, panicked cry from Moth, “Oh God, they're onto me!”
“They're what?” Will asked, flabbergasted. Moth's reply was a keen of total terror, before she ran across the room, pushed open the window and climbed out onto the fire escape.
Will turned back to his parents as the resounding of feet on metallic steps began to fade, “I'm not quite sure what just happened.”
“Should we... do something?” Pat suggested timidly.
“I think...” Will started then seemed to change his mind. “I'll handle it. You get going, I don't wanna keep you here.”
“If you're sure, Billy,” James answered, placing a hand on his son's shoulder before turning to leave.
“Bye Monkey,” Pat whispered, smiling before she followed after her husband.
Will stood at the door, holding it open and waving after his parents for a moment before closing it and heading straight for the window.
Moth was lounging on the steps just out of sight of the window smoking a cigarette.
“Just what exactly was that?” Will asked sternly, glaring at her.
“Fuck!” Moth quickly stubbed out her cigarette and turned her shell-shocked gaze to Will as he leaned his upper body out of the window. “Huh?” She looked down at the stub in her hands reflectively before turning back to Will, “You really were a teacher, my reflexes kicked in.” Will didn't smile at her joke, simply kept a level glare on her, awaiting a response, “Ouch. Okay, but can I come back inside? It's cold out here.”
Will briefly considered refusing to let her back inside until she'd answered his question, but his good nature wouldn't let him.
Inside, Moth headed towards the radio and retrieved an old-fashioned tape player from behind it. Holding it up for Will to see she pressed the rewind button and then played the tape again, it repeated the message about an escaped mental patient.
“Like I said, certain set-pieces.” Moth shrugged and returned the tape player to her handbag.
“How exactly is tricking my parents into thinking they just had dinner with an escaped mental patient a good idea?” Will asked tiredly.
“They won't think that,” Moth assured. “They might genuinely believe it for a while, but once there's no news report to back up my own little message they'll begin to realize it was faked. Then they'll start to think of me as the weird girl that pretended to be their granddaughter on a whim and then faked being a break-out from the loony bin.”
“How is that any better?” Will challenged.
“You've got to think of this in the long term, dude,” Moth replied. “Say I ruined this lunch and stopped them asking you questions you don't want to answer. Then what? I can't follow you around to every meeting to act as a buffer, so I introduced a new card for you to play.”
“I can threaten them with a dangerous mental patient if they don't stop with the 'caring parent' act,” Will suggested sarcastically.
“Dude, stop with the tunnel-vision,” She complained. “Look, you got involved with a student. That went badly. So now you're gonna have to put up with suggestions that you find a nice girl of legal age to date.”
“A girl like you,” He answered, beginning to see her logic.
“Exactly.” She grinned wickedly, “Underage may seem bad, but compare it to an inconsiderate, unstable loudmouth who likes to jerk people around and it'll seem like a minor problem.”
“Moth, I- I don't know what to say.”
“You could start with 'thanks' since I already predicted you'd be saying that,” Moth suggested. “Then maybe that there's still some of that pie.” She looked at him hopefully.
“There's pecan that you're more than welcome to,” He offered.
“Why do I get the feeling that this isn't the first time you've done this?” Will asked as they two of them were dishing out the pie.
“What, eaten pie?” Moth asked bewildered.
“No, the distraction thing,” He clarified.
“Oh that. I've been doing that for years.”
“How'd it get started?”
“That's a long story.”
“We have a lot of pie to go through,” Will reminded.
Moth worried her lip thoughtfully, “Okay, but you've gotten sweeten the deal, I expect ice-cream.”
At the dining table Moth ate a mouthful of pie before beginning her story, “It all started at Jerome's bar mitzvah. His parents split when he was eight, but of course they were both gonna be there and he had this nasty feeling things would turn ugly. Of course by that point I'd already discovered my gift for being the center of attention so I promised to step in should anything kick off.”
“How'd that go?” Will interrupted out of curiousity.
“Ish,” She answered, screwing up her face briefly, “But it got me started. About a year after that I pretended to be Jerome's girlfriend for two weeks so that when he brought his real girlfriend home his mom would like her in comparison to me. It took a year before she accepted that Jerome and I weren't getting back together and stopped giving me the cold shoulder.”
Will chuckled, “I remember meeting Terri's parents for the first time. I was petrified.”
Moth grinned and spooned more pie into her mouth, “Anyway, once word got around school that I was the girl no-one's mother wanted their son to date I got a line of guys willing to pay me for the same reasons as Jerome. I didn't make much from it, but it felt good to be helping bring people together. I was like an anarchistic cupid.”
“It was a strange, horrifying experience that I never want to endure again but I really do appreciate it,” Will finally declared.
“Thanks, that means a lot,” Moth answered with open amusement.
*
Finn had never openly compared Dr. Harper to Ms. Pillsbury but that was for the simple reason that they were so different that a detailed-analysis wasn't necessary. It was clear from their actions, attitudes and his disposition to each who was better.
“How are you doing?” Ms. Pillsbury asked concernedly, once Finn had sat down for their Monday session.
“Okay,” Finn replied dully. “It's kind of back to how it was before. People shouting stuff in the hall, knocking into me as they go by, but I made it through once, so I can do it again.”
Emma smiled kindly, “I'm sure you will.” She fidgeted, shuffling some papers before giving a small cough, “Principal Figgins has asked me to remind you that violent behavior will not be tolerated and to warn you that further outbursts may lead to more severe punishment.” Finn nodded his understanding, more than aware from her composure that she was only delivering the message because she had to. “Also, with the work that you've missed some of your teachers have set up some after school sessions for you to ensure you don't fall behind. They'll be every Wednesday and Thursday until the Christmas break.”
Finn groaned aloud at the news, but answered, “Okay.”
“Good.” She relaxed significantly at his acceptance and looked across the desk at him openly, “Now that that's out of the way, is there anything you need to talk about?”
“How's Glee?” He inquired, picking the easier topic first.
“Things are going smoothly.” She smiled softly, “The set-list is still open so we'll be able to find you a role somewhere.”
“Good.” Finn ducked his head, relieved to know that Glee had not fallen away from him during his absence.
“Is there anything else?” Emma prompted after a short period of quiet.
“Actually...” He raised his head again reluctantly, “Dr. Harper says I need to talk to a responsible adult about my sexuality.”
“Okay,” The guidance counselor answered readily. “Just in general, or does she have some specific purpose?”
“She doesn't believe I'm gay,” He answered, sliding the soles of his trainers along the carpet distractedly.
“Are you gay?” She asked.
“Will had a dick the last time I checked,” He answered crudely.
Emma fidgeted uncomfortably as she responded, “I, uhm, yes... well, I think the point Dr. Harper is trying to get you to consider is exactly where you are in the gay spectrum. Your-” She choked a little on the word, but persevered, “relationship with Will certainly qualifies as homosexual, but you've also been in heterosexual relationships;,with Quinn and Rachel, for example.”
“But, I like Will more,” Finn replied uncertainly.
“Sexual orientation isn't a black and white issue,” Emma responded. “Hold on, I have some pamphlets that might help.”
“Is one 'I'm in love with my Spanish teacher'?” Finn mocked.
“No. They only issue so many of each publication per academic year and I always hand out the entire stock of that one to Freshman girls in the first week,” She responded, in the serious tone that always had Finn doubting whether she was actually joking.
Collecting two pamphlets from the display she passed them across to Finn. The first was bold, with a large rainbow on the cover titled 'The Kinsey Scale: From Here to Queer'. The second was more subdued, featuring a cartoon door and the caption 'The Monster in the Closet: A Step-By-Step Guide To Coming Out'.
“Read them and then maybe we can talk about it on Friday,” Ms. Pillsbury instructed.
Author: dark_dreymer
Part: 7/10 (So far)
Word Count: 6176
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, Language
In the early hours of Sunday morning Will once again bumped into Moth in the hall of their apartment block.
“Hey Will,” Moth greeted cheerfully as she began the lengthy journey through her various pockets in search of the key to her apartment. “You just get off shift?”
“Yeah,” He answered, stopping to chat as he knew it would be a while before she would be ready to leave. “The museum opens a half hour later starting this month, since it stays darker for longer.”
“Well that sucks,” She declared, unearthing a yo-yo and giving it an experimental throw. She succeeded in dropping the gizmo to the floor but failed to pull it up again. Pulling it back and threading the string again, she dug through her mind for a fresh topic of conversation, “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”
“Haven't had it yet actually,” Will replied, leaning back against the wall as the thought of the day to come filled him with exhaustion. “My parents are coming over for a belated Thanksgiving lunch today.”
“Gee, you sound excited,” She remarked sarcastically, pocketing the yo-yo and returning to her quest for the key to the door.
“It's never exactly fun to have your parents telling you how badly you've screwed up.”
“Preaching to the choir, dude.”
Will sighed heavily, “So I get to sleep for the next five hours, then get up to make lunch just so I can spend an hour listening to my parents tell me how I've thrown my life away.”
“Sounds fun.” Moth gave an ironic thumbs-up and fell against the wall beside him, turning to place a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, “What you need is a distraction.”
“A distraction,” He inquired, worried by her inviting tone. “What exactly do you mean?”
“They're mad at you for this thing with your student, so what you need is something to redirect their attention throughout lunch so that they can't give you the third degree,” She explained simply.
“That does sound good,” He admitted carefully. “But what exactly-”
“Dude, just trust me,” She declared, peeling away from the wall as she finally unearthed her key. “I have the perfect thing in mind.”
As Moth's door slammed shut there was nothing else for Will to do but enter his own apartment and make his way to the bathroom. He spared a moment as he stripped off his uniform and entered the shower to worry about what she had planned, but once he was under the warm spray all conscious thought was beaten down. Collapsing into bed a few minutes later, he optimistically decided that it wouldn't be too bad.
*
A few hours later Will was drowsily preparing lunch in anticipation of his parents' arrival, meanwhile across town Finn had again returned to the Aaron Beck institute, because before he could return to school and put the wisdom of the ancient philosopher to practical use he had to confront the psychologist who had inadvertently caused the battle to begin with.
Any progress that had been made towards a possible understanding between doctor and patient was totally forfeit in the space of that single session as she harshly criticized Finn for the actions he had taken that led to him being suspended.
“I truly believed you were making progress,” She stated, using the standard trick of authority figures in knowing that disappointment hits harder than anger.
“I was defending Kurt,” Finn insisted.
“From the homophobic slander of your fellow students?” She inquired.
“Yes,” He clarified firmly.
Sighing melodramatically, she set aside her clipboard and rested her arms in her lap, leaning close to Finn with an open expression, “I believe your aggressive actions stem from a deep sexual confusion that Mr. Schuester's actions have caused.”
Finn gaped at the doctor, totally astounded, “You're saying that I punched some backwards, intolerant assholes and it's Will's fault?”
“I understand that the behavior of the young men who prompted your attack is entirely their own, but your response-”
“I don't believe this!” Finn cut across, “What else is Will responsible for: slavery, pollution, how bad the Twilight movies suck?”
“There's no need to be-”
Finn cut across again, “I bet when the Apocalypse happens that will be his fault too. I can see it now: Famine, Pestilence, Death and Will.”
“Finn, will you be quiet!” Dr. Harper snapped strictly.
“I'm sorry,” Finn answered insincerely. “I just don't understand why every time something bad happens in my life you have to associate it with Will. I screwed up here, me. You said my attitude has to change, isn't honesty an important part of that? I'm not looking to blame someone else, I know that it was my own fault.”
After a lengthy silence she finally spoke, “Be that as it may, I'm still concerned about your constant desire to protect Mr. Schuester from any amount of blame or guilt. Our most important goal is for you to reach a point where you can objectively understand why he was wrong to do the things he did. You won't be able to achieve that with subjective defense mechanisms in place.”
“I'm only defending him from your sucker-punches,” Finn retorted. “Karofsky's got a big, fat mouth and I put my fist in it, not Will's fault. If you find something that he did do, believe me I'll dish the blame out where it belongs... but I also won't stop caring about him. Part of loving someone is accepting their fuck-ups as much as their good times.”
A lengthy silence followed and Finn spent the time passively observing the childish office while the sound of a pen scratching against paper clued him in to the fact that Dr. Harper had picked up the clipboard again and was probably transcribing the exchange.
“I'd like to try the word association game again,” She finally announced. “To gauge your current attitude.”
Finn turned his attention back to the doctor and settled low in his chair, comfortably finding his defensive position, “Sure.”
“School,” She prompted, tapping her pen against the clipboard.
“Absent,” He responded with a smirk.
She frowned and noted his response before providing the next word, “Family.”
“Good.”
“Good?” She repeated, her eyebrows raised approvingly and she seemed pleased for the first time since Finn had arrived.
“Good,” He repeated with a nod.
“And home?”
“Meh.” He held out a hand and wobbled it in the air in an ambivalent gesture.
“I see.” Her approval noticeably waned, “Glee club?”
Finn's hand dropped back into his lap dejectedly, “I miss it.”
“More than you miss school?” Dr. Harper inferred from his reaction.
“A whole lot more,” He agreed.
“Is there a reason for that?” She asked.
“I guess...” He struggled to articulate his feelings on the matter, “It's something I'm good at. Something I have fun doing. I've got friends there. Sectionals is in a few weeks and I'm missing out on a bunch of practice sessions.” And Will, He mentally concluded, I feel close to Will when I'm singing.
The doctor watched Finn with an ambiguous expression as she noted down his response, “Just one more: Mr. Schuester.”
Finn tilted his head back against the seat and stared up at the grubby-white ceiling, his thoughts turned to his lover in contemplation of where he was and what he was doing, “I miss him too.”
*
As Finn turned his mind to the cosmos in consideration of Will's whereabouts, Will was mentally traversing the globe pinpointing all the locations he would like be in that particular moment rather than the one he was in.
“How have you been holding up, Billy?” His father asked with concern as he spooned sugar into his coffee.
Will snapped back to the room and tried to play his father's question over his sleepy mind but couldn't manage it, “Huh?”
“Not so much, dear,” Will's mom scolded, slapping at her husband's hand as he continued to spoon sugar into his drink. “The doctor said too much sugar will wreck your heart.” It always amazed Will how his mother would lecture them both on staying healthy when she had flunked out of AA on more than one occasion.
“How have you been holding up?” The senior Schuester repeated, stirring his coffee.
The phrasing of the question perturbed Will, the 'holding up' seemed to imply that his life was now nothing short of an endurance task. He had to acknowledge that in some ways it was, but his countdown was towards a much more short-term goal than his father's hopes that he would get his life back on track.
“Fine,” He answered vaguely. “How have you been doing?”
“About the same,” His father readily dismissed the attempt to change the focus of the conversation.
“How are your night classes going?” Will asked in another attempt to shift attention away from his own life.
His father smiled softly, “It's challenging, but I'm enjoying it.”
The sudden lurch from his mother wasn't anticipated by Will and he jumped a little as her hand latched onto his knee from across the coffee table, “You know we're here for you; right, Monkey?”
Will smiled as sincerely as he could manage at the desperate assurance in her eyes, “I know, Mom.”
“No matter what, you're my baby,” She insisted, squeezing his knee tightly.
“I know,” He repeated, his fingers twitching with his discomfort.
“If you need some of my coping concoction, you just let me know. Okay?” She informed intensely.
Will fought back a grimace at the memory of the one time his mood had stooped low enough to try some of her 'coping concoction'. The powerful mix of alcoholic beverages had the same effect as a bullet to the head, only without the merciful death that followed.
“I will, Mom,” He promised, while silently declaring to himself that he would definitely not take her up on the offer.
As an uncomfortable silence stretched, Will turned his attention to the clock and feigned surprise, “I'd better go check on lunch.”
In the kitchen his whole posture slumped with a combination of fatigue and emotional reluctance to abandon the sanctuary the room provided. After a few moments of basking in the horror of his predicament, he returned to functioning; he'd prepared the food as much as possible the day before in order to save time, so they were simply waiting for the food to cook. He checked on the turkey portions in the oven and the vegetables steaming on the stove. His delaying tactic of checking on the food was interrupted after a few minutes by a knock at the door.
“I'll just see who that is,” Will declared, crossing the lounge as quickly as possible to get to the door.
The young woman on the other side of the door was dressed in a long, pale pink dress with a lurid, lime green cardigan pinned across her bosom with a large, ugly brooch, “Hey Will.”
Given a few more seconds the young woman's identity would probably have registered but the sound of her voice clued Will in that much faster, “Moth?” He inquired incredulously, squinting at her as if the narrowing of his eyes would make her signature piercings and jacket appear.
“In the flesh.” She beamed and smoothed a hand through her neatly brushed hair, “Now just play along, capiche?”
“I don't-” Will started to express his confusion but suddenly found himself with an armful of Moth.
“-so nice of you to invite me at such short notice,” She announced, loudly enough for her voice to carry through into the lounge. Before Will could comprehend what had just occurred Moth had pushed past him into the apartment and he found himself with only the empty hall for company.
Pushing the door closed he stepped tremulously into the lounge, remembering his neighbor's early morning promise to provide a distraction and suddenly very afraid of exactly what form that distraction might come in.
“Mr. and Mrs. Schuester, I presume?” Moth declared primly, standing before the couple on the couch.
“Uh, yes,” Will's father answered hesitantly. “But I'm afraid we don't know who you are.”
“My name is Amanda.” She bowed her head and gave a small curtsy.
Will's mom smiled widely, “Aren't you the sweetest thing? So polite. I'm Pat and this is James.” She turned her head to her son as he slowly approached, then looked back to 'Amanda', “I presume you know our William then.”
Moth nodded as she settled down in a chair, “I'm his daughter.”
James spluttered into his coffee and Will's jaw dropped at the audacious lie, but his parents were far too caught up in their own shock to notice him.
“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Moth turned her head to look at Will, a devious twinkle in her eye. “Isn't that right, daddy?”
Will felt the urge to vomit as he collapsed back into his chair and didn't provide a response to her prompt.
“Y-you seem a little old to be Billy's daughter,” James rationalized.
“I'm mature for my age, but honestly I'm only seventeen,” She replied. “My Momma met Daddy here when she was on spring break, she always told me how it was a summer romance... only y'know, shorter and in spring.”
“This is... quite the surprise,” Pat commented, shell-shocked by Moth's words. “W-why didn't you tell us, William?”
“I...” Will froze under her sudden attention, reeling from the familiarity of her gentle scolding and feeling very much like a boy again. He sank helplessly back into his seat without replying.
“He didn't know.” Moth came to his aid, “Momma lost touch and so he never knew about the baby, about me. I tracked Daddy down this summer over the internet, and boy was that tricky.” She looked across at Will with a falsely sweet smile.
Time seemed to stand still as Moth's lie came to its conclusion, Will could feel the gaze of his parents on him like a physical force and the urge to vomit was still present. The moment was broken when Moth broke down into hysterical giggles, “Oh... Oh, I am so sorry. You shoulda seen the look on your faces...”
“I'm sorry?” James questioned with obvious confusion.
“I'm an actress,” Moth started up a fresh lie. “I like to test out roles on people when I meet them for the first time. I just can't help myself.”
“That was- That isn't funny,” Pat remarked disapprovingly.
“You're right ma'am, it's not. I apologize,” Moth answered, honesty present in her words for the first time since she'd entered the apartment. “I'm Will's neighbor,” She stated and held out a hand.
“It's... nice to meet you,” James replied disingenuously, taking her hand gingerly in an attempt to be polite.
The ticking of the clock was the only noise in the stretch of silence that followed.
“Well, it was very nice to meet you Amanda but isn't there somewhere you're supposed to be?” James inquired, his mask of politeness crumbling in the conversational wasteland.
“Oh,” Moth responded to the subtle hint with surprise. “I'm so forgetful. I'm having lunch with you guys.”
Will quickly schooled his confused expression into a more neutral one as his father looked at him shrewdly, “You are?” He questioned Moth, but his eyes were fixed firmly on his son.
“Yeah, she is,” Will defended her claim. “Her family live in Colorado, so I said she could join us.”
“Oh, you poor dear.” Pat's earlier annoyance was forgotten as her mothering instincts took over, “You have no-one here in town?”
“I've got Will,” Moth replied openly. “He's been so kind to me since I moved in across the hall. I have to say, it's a testament to you both, you must've raised him right.”
“Oh well, that's very kind of you,” She answered the praise modestly. “We did our best.”
“No, I mean it.” Moth looked between both parents sincerely, “He helped me move in, showed me about town. Not just anyone would go to such lengths to be welcoming to the newcomer.”
Will felt his own annoyance at his neighbor's abrasive arrival melt away as his mom looked at him with genuine pride.
“That's right. He's a proper gentleman, just like I taught him to be,” James proclaimed, resuming his comfortable stance and picking up his coffee.
“Lunch should be ready now,” Will declared, quickly standing upright. “Mo- Amanda, will you help me with the plates?”
“Sure thing.” Moth stopped meticulously smoothing out her dress and followed him into the kitchen.
“What exactly are you doing?” Will hissed, pulling open the fridge door to prevent the sound carrying through into the lounge.
“Don't worry, it's all going as planned,” Moth reassured, pulling open a few cupboards before she found the one containing the plates.
“What exactly is the plan?” Will inquired.
“Okay, not so much a plan as loosely defined idea with some set-pieces but a lot of room for improvisation,” She amended.
“Moth,” He pleaded. “I know you mean well but I'd like to still be on speaking terms with my parents by the time this meal is over with. So please, no more surprises.”
Moth watched him quietly as he pulled gravy granules out of another cupboard, before stepping over and taking the pot from him.
“I know what I'm doing, just trust me and you'll thank me once it's all over,” She promised. “Now get out there and tell them how I'm a sweet, but lonely girl with a heap of eccentricities and you invited me as a gesture of neighborly kindness. Put on a pity parade so strong they won't have the nerve to suggest kicking me out.”
“But-” Will tried to protest as she all but pushed him out of the kitchen.
“Don't worry, I'll plate up.”
Will tried his best to follow Moth's instructions but he was adrift from the loss of control and had a strong sense of dread gnawing away at his insides. By the time the meal was ready and they'd settled down at the table to eat he followed his mom's lead in immediately draining the first glass of wine.
“Wait!” Moth loudly interrupted as James picked up his knife, “Surely we're going to say Grace first.”
“Oh, yes... I suppose we'd better,” He replied, grudgingly lowering his knife. “Do you want to-”
He had barely finished offering when Moth pressed her hands together sharply and launched into verse, “Our Holy Father in Heaven, we ask that you bless this noble bird that we are about to eat...”
Will joined his hands as well but eventually released them as the prayer continued for several minutes. Across the table his mother had similarly abandoned the gesture and was pouring herself another glass, Will held his own empty glass out for a refill and watched his neighbor ramble on, asking God to bless the field-workers that had picked each individual tuber for the mashed potato on their plates. As the prayer continued Will sipped at his second glass and switched his attention between Moth's overly-inclusive thanks and the lines etching deeper into his father's forehead as she kept going. Moth eventually ended by requesting a blessing for the grocery store clerk who priced the can of cranberries before muttering, “Amen.”
“Amen,” The Schuesters' echoed.
“May we eat now?” James questioned grouchily.
“Of course,” Moth responded with a Cheshire cat grin.
The first few minutes of the meal passed quietly and Will felt the tension begin to drain away as Moth's antics seemed to be effectively preventing the topic straying anywhere close to Finn or his own situation as a consequence of his relationship with Finn.
“How's your job going?” James inquired unexpectedly.
“Good,” Will replied quickly, aware that he was in danger of receiving a lecture on career prospects. “It's a little odd to be working a near-nocturnal schedule, but I'm coping with it.”
“Have you considered where you're going to apply once you're finished with this job?” James pressed.
“Speaking of jobs, you haven't mentioned what you do,” Moth interjected swiftly.
“Oh, well...” He seemed a little baffled by the break in the conversation, “I'm actually taking classes to become a lawyer.”
“Whoa, you must be very intelligent to be doing something like that.”
“Well, it's- I'm not qualified yet,” He answered modestly.
“Still, it sounds a heck of a lot more exciting than my job,” Moth replied with a suitable amount of awe.
“I would think that being an actress must be very exciting,” Pat stated.
There was a momentary flicker of confusion, but Moth recovered quickly, “Well, honestly it's not all the glitz and glam of Hollywood like I thought it'd be. I've been in an independent movie recently: Killer Mutant Scarecrows. I was 'screaming girl #2' and even then I was only the understudy to a girl who had food poisoning on the day of the shoot.”
“I wanted to be an actress when I was your age,” Pat remarked wistfully.
“Really?” Will interrupted, surprised. “I never knew that.”
“Yes, I was part of the drama club in High School,” She recollected with a small smile. “I used to get the most dreadful stage fright, it'd take a few sips of brandy to get me on the other side of the curtain.”
“Now it takes that just to get you out of bed,” Her husband scoffed.
Will looked to Moth as his parents glared at each other across the table, but she was looking between them wide-eyed and clearly unprepared to distract from the situation.
“How's Dan doing?” He asked.
“He's fine,” James answered, turning away from his wife to look at Will. “Actually, he's just been promoted,” He added with a tinge of pride.
“Oh really?” Will inquired, “So, he's what now, Junior Vice President or something?”
“Uh- yes, I think so. Something that comes with initials anyway,” His father answered uncertainly.
“Well the promotion couldn't have come too soon,” Pat stated knowingly, forcibly reinserting herself to the conversation. “What with the baby on that way.”
“Mei's pregnant?” Will exclaimed.
“Yes,” She answered plainly. “Didn't Daniel tell you?”
Will felt a pang of guilt for the flickering light on his answering machine and the number of his brother's calls that he hadn't returned, “I haven't spoken to him in a while,” He offered lamely.
Moth coughed into the uncomfortable silence that followed and tapped her fingers on the rim of her empty plate, “I don't know about anyone else, but I'm about ready for dessert.”
Pushing the remaining food on his plate away Will stood up, “Yes, that sounds good.”
“Just a moment,” Pat answered, scooping up the remaining mashed potato hurriedly before passing over her plate.
Will took the plates and retreated to the sanctuary of the kitchen again, placing them beside the dishwasher for later, he turned to collect the cold apple pie from the fridge. Caught between the conflicting desires to remain hidden in the kitchen and to not leave Moth and his parents alone together for too long, he sliced the pie into four roughly even pieces and returned.
“So, what were we discussing?” He asked as he returned.
“I asked about your job prospects once you finish working at the museum,” James reminded.
“Ah... yes,” Will answered as he sat back down.
“Oh!” Moth exclaimed, reaching down to rummage in her purse. She pulled out a notepad and pen and quickly scribbled something down, “Look, I have pi,” She declared with a wide smile showing that she had written the number 3.14.
“Um, yes...” James responded, seeming uncertain of her mental stability. Will took the chance to fill his mouth with pie so that he couldn't be probed for details about his career plans again.
The rest of the pie was finished with very little conversation. Moth insisted upon taking the empty bowls through to the kitchen while Will accompanied his parents back into the lounge.
“Are you staying, or...?” Will trailed off uncertainly, folding his arms and hovering awkwardly beside the couch.
“I...” James answered with similar indecision. “I don't think so, we really ought to get going.”
“Well it was good to see you,” Will said, pleased when his father pulled him into a hug.
“You're coming home for Christmas,” Pat informed, there was no way the statement could be misconstrued as a question as she pulled her son close and pressed an affectionate, inebriated kiss to his cheek. “You don't have that woman refusing to spend the holidays with us anymore, so we'll be expecting you.”
“Sounds great, Mom,” He answered. He was again surprised at his mom's readiness to express her dislike for Terri and how she'd repeatedly insist her disapproval dated back to times before they were even married, it was a little disconcerting to think that she could retroactively apply disdain to a time of his life that hadn't been entirely disastrous and of which he still had fond memories.
Will was startled by Moth's sudden return, “Are you leaving?”
“We are,” Pat answered, smiling favorably at the young woman.
“Then may I just say that it was nice to meet you both,” Moth replied, performing the same small curtsy as when she had arrived. The conversation was interrupted by a buzz of static.
“Does anyone else hear that?” Will inquired, tilting his head to one side as the noise grew louder.
“I do,” Moth immediately insisted.
“Well I'm sure it's just-” James's reassurance was cut off by a sudden change in the noise. The static faded away and was replaced the closing lines of You Oughta Know, “See, just the radio.”
“I'm sure the radio wasn't on,” Will mumbled to himself.
As the song finished it was replaced by a nasal-sounding radio host, “We're gonna have to interrupt the countdown now to bring you this special news bulletin. The local psychiatric hospital is reporting an escaped patient, considered to be extremely dangerous and potentially armed-”
“Oh my,” Pat gasped.
“-be on the lookout for a Caucasian female in her early-20s, short black hair...”
The description continued but it was interrupted by a loud, panicked cry from Moth, “Oh God, they're onto me!”
“They're what?” Will asked, flabbergasted. Moth's reply was a keen of total terror, before she ran across the room, pushed open the window and climbed out onto the fire escape.
Will turned back to his parents as the resounding of feet on metallic steps began to fade, “I'm not quite sure what just happened.”
“Should we... do something?” Pat suggested timidly.
“I think...” Will started then seemed to change his mind. “I'll handle it. You get going, I don't wanna keep you here.”
“If you're sure, Billy,” James answered, placing a hand on his son's shoulder before turning to leave.
“Bye Monkey,” Pat whispered, smiling before she followed after her husband.
Will stood at the door, holding it open and waving after his parents for a moment before closing it and heading straight for the window.
Moth was lounging on the steps just out of sight of the window smoking a cigarette.
“Just what exactly was that?” Will asked sternly, glaring at her.
“Fuck!” Moth quickly stubbed out her cigarette and turned her shell-shocked gaze to Will as he leaned his upper body out of the window. “Huh?” She looked down at the stub in her hands reflectively before turning back to Will, “You really were a teacher, my reflexes kicked in.” Will didn't smile at her joke, simply kept a level glare on her, awaiting a response, “Ouch. Okay, but can I come back inside? It's cold out here.”
Will briefly considered refusing to let her back inside until she'd answered his question, but his good nature wouldn't let him.
Inside, Moth headed towards the radio and retrieved an old-fashioned tape player from behind it. Holding it up for Will to see she pressed the rewind button and then played the tape again, it repeated the message about an escaped mental patient.
“Like I said, certain set-pieces.” Moth shrugged and returned the tape player to her handbag.
“How exactly is tricking my parents into thinking they just had dinner with an escaped mental patient a good idea?” Will asked tiredly.
“They won't think that,” Moth assured. “They might genuinely believe it for a while, but once there's no news report to back up my own little message they'll begin to realize it was faked. Then they'll start to think of me as the weird girl that pretended to be their granddaughter on a whim and then faked being a break-out from the loony bin.”
“How is that any better?” Will challenged.
“You've got to think of this in the long term, dude,” Moth replied. “Say I ruined this lunch and stopped them asking you questions you don't want to answer. Then what? I can't follow you around to every meeting to act as a buffer, so I introduced a new card for you to play.”
“I can threaten them with a dangerous mental patient if they don't stop with the 'caring parent' act,” Will suggested sarcastically.
“Dude, stop with the tunnel-vision,” She complained. “Look, you got involved with a student. That went badly. So now you're gonna have to put up with suggestions that you find a nice girl of legal age to date.”
“A girl like you,” He answered, beginning to see her logic.
“Exactly.” She grinned wickedly, “Underage may seem bad, but compare it to an inconsiderate, unstable loudmouth who likes to jerk people around and it'll seem like a minor problem.”
“Moth, I- I don't know what to say.”
“You could start with 'thanks' since I already predicted you'd be saying that,” Moth suggested. “Then maybe that there's still some of that pie.” She looked at him hopefully.
“There's pecan that you're more than welcome to,” He offered.
“Why do I get the feeling that this isn't the first time you've done this?” Will asked as they two of them were dishing out the pie.
“What, eaten pie?” Moth asked bewildered.
“No, the distraction thing,” He clarified.
“Oh that. I've been doing that for years.”
“How'd it get started?”
“That's a long story.”
“We have a lot of pie to go through,” Will reminded.
Moth worried her lip thoughtfully, “Okay, but you've gotten sweeten the deal, I expect ice-cream.”
At the dining table Moth ate a mouthful of pie before beginning her story, “It all started at Jerome's bar mitzvah. His parents split when he was eight, but of course they were both gonna be there and he had this nasty feeling things would turn ugly. Of course by that point I'd already discovered my gift for being the center of attention so I promised to step in should anything kick off.”
“How'd that go?” Will interrupted out of curiousity.
“Ish,” She answered, screwing up her face briefly, “But it got me started. About a year after that I pretended to be Jerome's girlfriend for two weeks so that when he brought his real girlfriend home his mom would like her in comparison to me. It took a year before she accepted that Jerome and I weren't getting back together and stopped giving me the cold shoulder.”
Will chuckled, “I remember meeting Terri's parents for the first time. I was petrified.”
Moth grinned and spooned more pie into her mouth, “Anyway, once word got around school that I was the girl no-one's mother wanted their son to date I got a line of guys willing to pay me for the same reasons as Jerome. I didn't make much from it, but it felt good to be helping bring people together. I was like an anarchistic cupid.”
“It was a strange, horrifying experience that I never want to endure again but I really do appreciate it,” Will finally declared.
“Thanks, that means a lot,” Moth answered with open amusement.
*
Finn had never openly compared Dr. Harper to Ms. Pillsbury but that was for the simple reason that they were so different that a detailed-analysis wasn't necessary. It was clear from their actions, attitudes and his disposition to each who was better.
“How are you doing?” Ms. Pillsbury asked concernedly, once Finn had sat down for their Monday session.
“Okay,” Finn replied dully. “It's kind of back to how it was before. People shouting stuff in the hall, knocking into me as they go by, but I made it through once, so I can do it again.”
Emma smiled kindly, “I'm sure you will.” She fidgeted, shuffling some papers before giving a small cough, “Principal Figgins has asked me to remind you that violent behavior will not be tolerated and to warn you that further outbursts may lead to more severe punishment.” Finn nodded his understanding, more than aware from her composure that she was only delivering the message because she had to. “Also, with the work that you've missed some of your teachers have set up some after school sessions for you to ensure you don't fall behind. They'll be every Wednesday and Thursday until the Christmas break.”
Finn groaned aloud at the news, but answered, “Okay.”
“Good.” She relaxed significantly at his acceptance and looked across the desk at him openly, “Now that that's out of the way, is there anything you need to talk about?”
“How's Glee?” He inquired, picking the easier topic first.
“Things are going smoothly.” She smiled softly, “The set-list is still open so we'll be able to find you a role somewhere.”
“Good.” Finn ducked his head, relieved to know that Glee had not fallen away from him during his absence.
“Is there anything else?” Emma prompted after a short period of quiet.
“Actually...” He raised his head again reluctantly, “Dr. Harper says I need to talk to a responsible adult about my sexuality.”
“Okay,” The guidance counselor answered readily. “Just in general, or does she have some specific purpose?”
“She doesn't believe I'm gay,” He answered, sliding the soles of his trainers along the carpet distractedly.
“Are you gay?” She asked.
“Will had a dick the last time I checked,” He answered crudely.
Emma fidgeted uncomfortably as she responded, “I, uhm, yes... well, I think the point Dr. Harper is trying to get you to consider is exactly where you are in the gay spectrum. Your-” She choked a little on the word, but persevered, “relationship with Will certainly qualifies as homosexual, but you've also been in heterosexual relationships;,with Quinn and Rachel, for example.”
“But, I like Will more,” Finn replied uncertainly.
“Sexual orientation isn't a black and white issue,” Emma responded. “Hold on, I have some pamphlets that might help.”
“Is one 'I'm in love with my Spanish teacher'?” Finn mocked.
“No. They only issue so many of each publication per academic year and I always hand out the entire stock of that one to Freshman girls in the first week,” She responded, in the serious tone that always had Finn doubting whether she was actually joking.
Collecting two pamphlets from the display she passed them across to Finn. The first was bold, with a large rainbow on the cover titled 'The Kinsey Scale: From Here to Queer'. The second was more subdued, featuring a cartoon door and the caption 'The Monster in the Closet: A Step-By-Step Guide To Coming Out'.
“Read them and then maybe we can talk about it on Friday,” Ms. Pillsbury instructed.