Fic: Friday Night Lights: Times in Life You Need a Loving Hand [PG-13]
Title: Times in Life You Need a Loving Hand
Author: pdxscaper
Fandom: Friday Night Lights
Summary: Eric knew the Riggins boys were wild, but he’d never pictured either one of them ending up dead.
Rating: PG-13, language
Word Count: 1,434
Disclaimer: Characters belong to NBC Universal Television, Imagine Televison, Universal Media Studios and Film 44 and the brilliant writers who bring them to us each week. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made. I just can't help myself.
Notes: AU, spoilers through 2x13 Humble Pie. Since the Riggins boys in their infinite wisdom took the money from Guy, Dillon's biggest drug dealer, I've been dreading something really bad happening. This is where I thought the last episode was headed. The title's from the song Come to Jesus by Mindy Smith.
Times in Life You Need a Loving Hand
Tim watched the sheriff call Coach over to the sidelines, watched Coach’s hands settle on his hips as an exasperated sigh lifted his shoulders. When his eyes whipped up from the turf to look at Landry’s dad, Tim had to wonder who was going to get his ass chewed for doing something stupid this time. Before they knew it the whole team was going to be sitting on the bench and he’d have to lead a bunch of snot nose JVers around the field. It was bad enough last time, he’d practically had to teach ‘em how to hold their dicks when they took a piss.
“Riggins.” Coach’s voice did have a way of carrying across a football field.
Great, just great. With a sigh of resignation Tim trotted over to the sideline, stopped in front of the two men.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Coach Taylor said quietly, “Son, you need to go in and change.”
As good as he thought he’d gotten at reading the man’s moods, Tim couldn’t figure this one. “We’re in the middle of practice, Coach.”
Sheriff Clarke interrupted, his voice not unkind. “I need you to come with me, son.”
“I didn't-“ Tim responded out of habit as his mind flipped through the possibilities. There was no reason for Guy to go to the police; they’d returned his damn money. If he was going to play that way, well, then Tim could too.
Coach turned to him, dropped a hand on each shoulder pad. “It’s your brother, son.” Coach Taylor’s voice was gruff as he went on. “You need to go in and change.”
Tim’s stomach started to twist as he turned and headed to the locker room. Nothing good was gonna come of this.
+++||+++
"Mac, you’ve got practice,” Coach yelled across the field and watched the big man give him a wave of acknowledgement. Eric was thankful that no one was close enough to ask any questions because he still wasn’t sure he had completely processed what Sheriff Clarke told him about Billy Riggins.
When he entered the locker room Tim was just pulling on his boots, hair falling down over his face so Eric couldn’t read what was going through his mind.
He looked at Clarke and the sheriff just shook his head, an apologetic look on his face. So he hadn’t told him.
With a deep breath, Eric said, “I’ll drive him if you want to go on.”
“You sure?”
Eric nodded even though he wasn’t. “Yeah, go on.”
What was coming was going to be hard enough; the kid certainly didn’t need to ride in a sheriff’s car to the morgue to identify his brother’s body.
+++||+++
Eric knew the Riggins boys were wild, but he’d never pictured either one of them ending up dead. Sure they were reckless and pulled more than their share of stupid stunts, still, it seemed like they always managed to land on their feet somehow.
Damn. Not this time.
As he wheeled out of the high school parking lot, Eric took a quick look at the boy. Riggins was sitting easy, leaned up against the door, eyes straight ahead. Eric couldn’t read his mood, couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or scared. Seemed to him maybe a little of both.
“Billy’s just goin’ through a rough patch right now, you know. Lost his job and the girl-the girl he’s been seein’ moved out. Got a lot on his mind.” Tim’s voice trailed down. “He’ll be okay.”
Damn. Best just to get it out now.
“There’s been a shooting.”
“Coach, whatever he’s done, he was probably just looking out for me.”
Damn. How did you tell a kid something like this?
“Billy didn’t shoot anybody.” He felt, more than saw, the boy’s realization.
“How bad is it?”
Damn. Eric wished Tami were here with him.
“How bad, Coach?” Riggin’s voice was soft, almost resigned, like he knew what was coming.
Damn.
“He’s gone, son.”
The boy turned his face to the window. Elbow resting on the window ledge, chin in hand, his body was still, quiet. Seemed to Eric like he was holding his breath until he saw Tim’s shoulders shake and the tears splash dark spots onto the faded denim of his blue jeans.
Damn.
+++||+++
After the service, Tami Taylor watched from across the cemetery as her husband stood next to Tim Riggins, arms folded across his chest, head down. He said a few words and Tim shook his head. Then Eric put his arm across Tim’s shoulders, head bent talking to him and the boy nodded, a small smile flashing bright through the curtain of hair that perpetually screened his face. He seemed okay for a couple of minutes and she almost let out the breath she’d been holding. Then Tim’s face crumpled and his shoulders hunched and Eric turned him into his arms. All she could do was swipe furiously at her own tears when the boy’s hands fisted in the back of Eric’s jacket.
“Mom?” Julie’s soft voice wavered as she leaned into Tami’s side.
“I’m okay, sweetie,” Tami said, turned and wrapped her daughter in her arms and held on tight. When she loosened her grip, she swept away the tears on Julie’s cheeks. “You alright?”
The girl gave a small nod. “How could Mr. and Mrs. Riggins not be here?”
“I don’t know, Jules, I don’t know.” No matter how angry she got at Julie for some of things she did, Tami couldn’t imagine not caring enough to be there for her if she had to deal with something like this. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around what was wrong with those boys’ parents. It was incomprehensible that they weren’t here for Tim. For Billy.
“It makes me sad.”
“Me too, sweetheart. It’s an awful, awful thing for that boy to have to deal with.”
“What’s going to happen to him now?”
Tami shook her head. “We’ll figure something out. Your daddy’s probably over there right now telling him that he’s going to come home and stay with us again tonight.”
“That’s good. He shouldn’t have to be alone.”
Ignoring the tears that began anew, Tami smiled, took her daughter’s face in her hands and asked fiercely, “You know how much I love you?”
Julie nodded, her face shiny with tears, a quick smile quirking the corner of her mouth.
“Good, that’s real good.” All she could think to do was take her daughter in her arms again, hold on tight and pray to God that he’d keep both her girls safe from harm.
+++||+++
Under a bright blue Dillon sky Eric stood next to Tim as most of the town shuffled through the line to pay their respects. The boy’s eyes darted up to faces and then back down as he said his thanks in a soft voice while he shook the hands offered to him.
The boys on the team didn't really know what to say, how to act. Most of them were quick with their words, stunned into good manners and solemn behavior.
A small smile lifted the corner of Tim’s mouth momentarily when Joanne Street’s hand cupped his face. “You need anything, honey, just let us know.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the tail end of the line had filed past Eric folded his arms across his chest and dropped his eyes to the ground.
“You awright?” he asked knowing full well that Tim was anything but.
The boy shook his head. It was god awful hard to watch him trying to figure out how to be okay with all of this. If it wasn’t enough he’d just lost his brother, he had to deal with the fact that neither his mother nor his father had cared enough to show up to their oldest son’s funeral.
Eric reached an arm around Tim’s shoulders. “That’s okay, you know. There’s nothin’ says you gotta take this all in right now and figure out how you’re gonna move on. Son, you’ve got a town full of people who love you, who’ll help you. We’re all here. You know that?”
Tim nodded and a smile flashed fleetingly across his face. It took a few minutes more before he lost himself and when the sobs shook his shoulders Eric wrapped him in his arms and felt the boy grab on tight.
“Okay, okay,” he said softly. “You’ll come on over and stay with us again tonight. You gotta place for as long as you need. Everything’ll be okay. It’ll be awright.”
God damn it all to hell.
Eric Taylor really hated telling lies.
End
...
Author: pdxscaper
Fandom: Friday Night Lights
Summary: Eric knew the Riggins boys were wild, but he’d never pictured either one of them ending up dead.
Rating: PG-13, language
Word Count: 1,434
Disclaimer: Characters belong to NBC Universal Television, Imagine Televison, Universal Media Studios and Film 44 and the brilliant writers who bring them to us each week. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made. I just can't help myself.
Notes: AU, spoilers through 2x13 Humble Pie. Since the Riggins boys in their infinite wisdom took the money from Guy, Dillon's biggest drug dealer, I've been dreading something really bad happening. This is where I thought the last episode was headed. The title's from the song Come to Jesus by Mindy Smith.
Times in Life You Need a Loving Hand
Tim watched the sheriff call Coach over to the sidelines, watched Coach’s hands settle on his hips as an exasperated sigh lifted his shoulders. When his eyes whipped up from the turf to look at Landry’s dad, Tim had to wonder who was going to get his ass chewed for doing something stupid this time. Before they knew it the whole team was going to be sitting on the bench and he’d have to lead a bunch of snot nose JVers around the field. It was bad enough last time, he’d practically had to teach ‘em how to hold their dicks when they took a piss.
“Riggins.” Coach’s voice did have a way of carrying across a football field.
Great, just great. With a sigh of resignation Tim trotted over to the sideline, stopped in front of the two men.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Coach Taylor said quietly, “Son, you need to go in and change.”
As good as he thought he’d gotten at reading the man’s moods, Tim couldn’t figure this one. “We’re in the middle of practice, Coach.”
Sheriff Clarke interrupted, his voice not unkind. “I need you to come with me, son.”
“I didn't-“ Tim responded out of habit as his mind flipped through the possibilities. There was no reason for Guy to go to the police; they’d returned his damn money. If he was going to play that way, well, then Tim could too.
Coach turned to him, dropped a hand on each shoulder pad. “It’s your brother, son.” Coach Taylor’s voice was gruff as he went on. “You need to go in and change.”
Tim’s stomach started to twist as he turned and headed to the locker room. Nothing good was gonna come of this.
+++||+++
"Mac, you’ve got practice,” Coach yelled across the field and watched the big man give him a wave of acknowledgement. Eric was thankful that no one was close enough to ask any questions because he still wasn’t sure he had completely processed what Sheriff Clarke told him about Billy Riggins.
When he entered the locker room Tim was just pulling on his boots, hair falling down over his face so Eric couldn’t read what was going through his mind.
He looked at Clarke and the sheriff just shook his head, an apologetic look on his face. So he hadn’t told him.
With a deep breath, Eric said, “I’ll drive him if you want to go on.”
“You sure?”
Eric nodded even though he wasn’t. “Yeah, go on.”
What was coming was going to be hard enough; the kid certainly didn’t need to ride in a sheriff’s car to the morgue to identify his brother’s body.
+++||+++
Eric knew the Riggins boys were wild, but he’d never pictured either one of them ending up dead. Sure they were reckless and pulled more than their share of stupid stunts, still, it seemed like they always managed to land on their feet somehow.
Damn. Not this time.
As he wheeled out of the high school parking lot, Eric took a quick look at the boy. Riggins was sitting easy, leaned up against the door, eyes straight ahead. Eric couldn’t read his mood, couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or scared. Seemed to him maybe a little of both.
“Billy’s just goin’ through a rough patch right now, you know. Lost his job and the girl-the girl he’s been seein’ moved out. Got a lot on his mind.” Tim’s voice trailed down. “He’ll be okay.”
Damn. Best just to get it out now.
“There’s been a shooting.”
“Coach, whatever he’s done, he was probably just looking out for me.”
Damn. How did you tell a kid something like this?
“Billy didn’t shoot anybody.” He felt, more than saw, the boy’s realization.
“How bad is it?”
Damn. Eric wished Tami were here with him.
“How bad, Coach?” Riggin’s voice was soft, almost resigned, like he knew what was coming.
Damn.
“He’s gone, son.”
The boy turned his face to the window. Elbow resting on the window ledge, chin in hand, his body was still, quiet. Seemed to Eric like he was holding his breath until he saw Tim’s shoulders shake and the tears splash dark spots onto the faded denim of his blue jeans.
Damn.
+++||+++
After the service, Tami Taylor watched from across the cemetery as her husband stood next to Tim Riggins, arms folded across his chest, head down. He said a few words and Tim shook his head. Then Eric put his arm across Tim’s shoulders, head bent talking to him and the boy nodded, a small smile flashing bright through the curtain of hair that perpetually screened his face. He seemed okay for a couple of minutes and she almost let out the breath she’d been holding. Then Tim’s face crumpled and his shoulders hunched and Eric turned him into his arms. All she could do was swipe furiously at her own tears when the boy’s hands fisted in the back of Eric’s jacket.
“Mom?” Julie’s soft voice wavered as she leaned into Tami’s side.
“I’m okay, sweetie,” Tami said, turned and wrapped her daughter in her arms and held on tight. When she loosened her grip, she swept away the tears on Julie’s cheeks. “You alright?”
The girl gave a small nod. “How could Mr. and Mrs. Riggins not be here?”
“I don’t know, Jules, I don’t know.” No matter how angry she got at Julie for some of things she did, Tami couldn’t imagine not caring enough to be there for her if she had to deal with something like this. She couldn’t even wrap her mind around what was wrong with those boys’ parents. It was incomprehensible that they weren’t here for Tim. For Billy.
“It makes me sad.”
“Me too, sweetheart. It’s an awful, awful thing for that boy to have to deal with.”
“What’s going to happen to him now?”
Tami shook her head. “We’ll figure something out. Your daddy’s probably over there right now telling him that he’s going to come home and stay with us again tonight.”
“That’s good. He shouldn’t have to be alone.”
Ignoring the tears that began anew, Tami smiled, took her daughter’s face in her hands and asked fiercely, “You know how much I love you?”
Julie nodded, her face shiny with tears, a quick smile quirking the corner of her mouth.
“Good, that’s real good.” All she could think to do was take her daughter in her arms again, hold on tight and pray to God that he’d keep both her girls safe from harm.
+++||+++
Under a bright blue Dillon sky Eric stood next to Tim as most of the town shuffled through the line to pay their respects. The boy’s eyes darted up to faces and then back down as he said his thanks in a soft voice while he shook the hands offered to him.
The boys on the team didn't really know what to say, how to act. Most of them were quick with their words, stunned into good manners and solemn behavior.
A small smile lifted the corner of Tim’s mouth momentarily when Joanne Street’s hand cupped his face. “You need anything, honey, just let us know.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the tail end of the line had filed past Eric folded his arms across his chest and dropped his eyes to the ground.
“You awright?” he asked knowing full well that Tim was anything but.
The boy shook his head. It was god awful hard to watch him trying to figure out how to be okay with all of this. If it wasn’t enough he’d just lost his brother, he had to deal with the fact that neither his mother nor his father had cared enough to show up to their oldest son’s funeral.
Eric reached an arm around Tim’s shoulders. “That’s okay, you know. There’s nothin’ says you gotta take this all in right now and figure out how you’re gonna move on. Son, you’ve got a town full of people who love you, who’ll help you. We’re all here. You know that?”
Tim nodded and a smile flashed fleetingly across his face. It took a few minutes more before he lost himself and when the sobs shook his shoulders Eric wrapped him in his arms and felt the boy grab on tight.
“Okay, okay,” he said softly. “You’ll come on over and stay with us again tonight. You gotta place for as long as you need. Everything’ll be okay. It’ll be awright.”
God damn it all to hell.
Eric Taylor really hated telling lies.
End
...