"First Date" (Silent Hill 3, Heather/Douglas)
Title: First Date
Author: rosehiptea
Fandom: Silent Hill 3
Claim: Douglas Cartland/Heather Morris
Prompt Set: Orange
Prompt: 5. Nail Polish
Type: Fanfic
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: May/December romance. Spoilers. Slight Heather/OC, sort of.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Konami, not to me. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Summary: When Heather has a date, feelings of protectiveness and jealousy combine to unnerve Douglas.
Word Count: 1,623
The previous fics, which led up to this one, are here (They start with the most recent and go back...)
A.N. I will mostly be using the name Cheryl for Heather in these stories, since she stated her intent to go back to it at the end of the game. But I didn't claim her under that name since it's technically a spoiler. All or most of these stories will be a single narrative describing the relationship of Cheryl and Douglas after the game.
The next morning Douglas made the mistake of getting up while Cheryl was still home eating breakfast. He almost went back into his room when he saw her at the kitchen table, but he couldn't avoid her forever. At least he'd gotten dressed first.
"I suppose you want me to apologize for last night," she said, before he even sat down with his coffee.
He sighed. "Actually I was hoping we could just act like that never happened."
"Because that's the mature adult thing to do?"
"Cheryl, what do you want from me? I've an old man and I’ve got nothing to offer you and you know that. Except for being the only person who knows what you went through in Silent Hill, and you need to move on from that too."
Cheryl looked down at her plate of eggs. "Maybe it's not just that. Maybe I like your jazz music and your dumb jokes and the way you don't always have to be a tough guy."
Douglas was afraid to look at her right now. She could see right through him, couldn't she?
"Someday you'll meet someone your own age, and get married and all that. And I'll drag my old self to your wedding. That's just the way it works."
"I don't think I ever want to get married. What if he wanted me to have kids?"
"You don't want kids?" asked Douglas.
"Do you really think I'd ever want to be pregnant after everything that happened? I told the doctor I wanted to have my tubes tied but he told me I was way too young I'd change my mind someday. He gave me birth control though. I'm not even doing anything, but I can't stand the idea of something growing inside me again."
He hadn't even known what she talked to the doctor about when she went, even though he remembered giving her a ride there. It wasn’t his business, and in fact this was a little more than he wanted to know. He definitely hadn’t thought about how she might feel about being pregnant, either, though he understood what she meant.
"Well, babies aren't like... what happened to you. Maybe you will change your mind." Before she could interrupt, he held up his hands. "Or maybe you won't. Maybe you'll adopt someday."
"Yeah, that worked out really great for my parents. Look what they ended up with."
"Your parents loved you. And there's nothing wrong with you, either."
"I found a notebook from my father, in Silent Hill. He said sometimes he wanted to kill me when I was a baby, when he got me again from Alessa."
She looked so sad when she said that that he put his arm around her, even though he had promised himself to stop touching her.
"But he never hurt you, did he? He went through hell in Silent Hill, but in the end he knew it wasn't your fault, and he took care of you."
Cheryl nodded, and he stroked her back for a moment, watching as she began to relax.
"I still don’t think I’m ever going to be a mother," she said.
"There are other people out there who don't want kids either, I'm sure," he said awkwardly as he backed away. "Anyway, you don't need to think about anything like that for years now. Just have a date or something. Go spend some time with people your own age instead of hanging around me too much and getting funny ideas."
"Just tell me one thing, and honestly this time," she said. "When I kissed you, you said you never thought of me that way. Was that the truth?"
Douglas wished he could lie again, because it was only going to give her more ideas, but she was looking right into his eyes and she was going to know. "It wasn't the truth, but it should have been, all right?"
He was afraid she might make a dramatic scene when he said it, but she just nodded and looked a little sad again. She did already know, he thought.
He couldn't say things were perfect between them after that -- she gave him significant looks now and then, which he pretended to ignore. But he had hopes that the whole thing would be buried. A few days after her birthday he came from an evening of insurance work to find her painting her nails at the kitchen table. He looked at her curiously.
"I won't make a mess, OK?" she said.
"Well, sure. Do whatever you want." The nail polish was some kind of orange sparkly stuff. Cheryl liked to look nice but he couldn't remember ever seeing her do her nails before.
"I have to look nice for my date tomorrow," she said, putting a heavy emphasis on the word "date."
"You have a date?" he asked. Why was he surprised, when he kept encouraging her to do just that?
She nodded. "His name is John, and he's taking me to the movies."
"That sounds nice," said Douglas, though Cheryl looked a little more devious than innocently happy right now. Then again, maybe that was his imagination. "Have a good time."
"You aren't going to warn me about teenage boys?"
She really was trying to annoy him; he was sure of it now, but he couldn’t call her on it. And what was he supposed to warn her about? She was on birth control, and-- Douglas suddenly decided not to let his brain keep thinking about any of this.
"I am going to watch television," he said in a grumpy voice.
Cheryl joined him on the couch like she always did, holding her nails carefully and not making conversation. She fell asleep halfway through some violent cop show and ended up leaning against his shoulder. He wondered if she'd been staying awake at night, and he hoped it wasn't nightmares again. She looked so peaceful there on the couch that he didn't have the heart to wake her. Then again, he couldn't afford to let her cuddle up to him like that, so he edged away carefully and covered her up with an old afghan.
For a moment he just stood and looked at her face. She was so pretty, and now every time he looked at her he wished for another kiss, and sometimes had to hold himself back. But that would all pass. Maybe she was really interested in this guy John, or would be anyway. Douglas felt a pang of guilty jealousy when he thought of it, and shook his head. It's the best thing for her, he reminded himself. He did know that if some boy ever hurt her then Douglas would put him in pain he would never forget. But then he laughed silently. Cheryl could take care of herself. She stirred but didn't open her eyes.
Stop looking at her now, he told himself, and went off to bed.
The next evening Cheryl put on a charming little miniskirt outfit that Douglas tried not to look at directly. He reminded himself that she was wearing it for her date, not for him, but the way Cheryl was smiling at him still made him wonder.
When there was knock on the door, he bolted for his room but Cheryl caught him by the sleeve. "Someone has to be here to meet him," she said.
"That would be you," he replied, but meanwhile she was already opening the door to admit a skinny kid with blond hair and what Douglas immediately evaluated as an insincere smile. Cheryl could do way better than that, he thought to himself, then told himself to shut up. “Better” certainly didn’t mean a balding private detective in his fifties, either.
"Douglas, this is John. John, this is my... my... Douglas Cartland." Douglas nodded and shook the kid's hand.
"Are you Cheryl’s uncle or something?" John asked.
If Cheryl hadn't explained their living arrangements to him, Douglas wasn't about to help out.
"We're not related. At all. He's... a friend of my dad's," said Cheryl.
Douglas raised his eyebrows at the bold-faced lie but didn't correct her. John apparently knew that Cheryl's dad was no longer living, at least, because that seemed to shut him up.
"Douglas is a private detective," Cheryl went on.
"That sounds very interesting," John said.
"People say that all the time. Mostly it's just surveillance work. And the occasional trip to the mall over in Portland," he said with a glare at Cheryl, who looked like she was about to laugh.
“Do you carry a gun?" the kid asked.
Cheryl made a snorting noise. "Sometimes," said Douglas. I use it to shoot snotty teenagers, he added mentally.
"When do I need to be home by?" asked Cheryl. She was really pushing it, but he knew "That's not my damn problem," was not the right answer. Midnight seemed too early for an eighteen-year-old though, not that he would know. Did they even have curfews? "One a.m.?" he ventured.
John nodded. "I'll have her home before that, sir," he said.
Sir? Now Eddie Haskell there was pushing it. "Just don't make a lot of noise coming in, because I'm going to bed after the ball game," he muttered.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to stay up all night waiting to hear about what a great time she had. Douglas might have encouraged her to date but he was only human.
As they headed for the parking lot, he went to the door and called after them. "You still carry that switchblade, right Cheryl?"
John made a surprised noise and Cheryl turned to glare at Douglas. He grinned just a little. "Have a great time, kids."
Author: rosehiptea
Fandom: Silent Hill 3
Claim: Douglas Cartland/Heather Morris
Prompt Set: Orange
Prompt: 5. Nail Polish
Type: Fanfic
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: May/December romance. Spoilers. Slight Heather/OC, sort of.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Konami, not to me. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.
Summary: When Heather has a date, feelings of protectiveness and jealousy combine to unnerve Douglas.
Word Count: 1,623
The previous fics, which led up to this one, are here (They start with the most recent and go back...)
A.N. I will mostly be using the name Cheryl for Heather in these stories, since she stated her intent to go back to it at the end of the game. But I didn't claim her under that name since it's technically a spoiler. All or most of these stories will be a single narrative describing the relationship of Cheryl and Douglas after the game.
The next morning Douglas made the mistake of getting up while Cheryl was still home eating breakfast. He almost went back into his room when he saw her at the kitchen table, but he couldn't avoid her forever. At least he'd gotten dressed first.
"I suppose you want me to apologize for last night," she said, before he even sat down with his coffee.
He sighed. "Actually I was hoping we could just act like that never happened."
"Because that's the mature adult thing to do?"
"Cheryl, what do you want from me? I've an old man and I’ve got nothing to offer you and you know that. Except for being the only person who knows what you went through in Silent Hill, and you need to move on from that too."
Cheryl looked down at her plate of eggs. "Maybe it's not just that. Maybe I like your jazz music and your dumb jokes and the way you don't always have to be a tough guy."
Douglas was afraid to look at her right now. She could see right through him, couldn't she?
"Someday you'll meet someone your own age, and get married and all that. And I'll drag my old self to your wedding. That's just the way it works."
"I don't think I ever want to get married. What if he wanted me to have kids?"
"You don't want kids?" asked Douglas.
"Do you really think I'd ever want to be pregnant after everything that happened? I told the doctor I wanted to have my tubes tied but he told me I was way too young I'd change my mind someday. He gave me birth control though. I'm not even doing anything, but I can't stand the idea of something growing inside me again."
He hadn't even known what she talked to the doctor about when she went, even though he remembered giving her a ride there. It wasn’t his business, and in fact this was a little more than he wanted to know. He definitely hadn’t thought about how she might feel about being pregnant, either, though he understood what she meant.
"Well, babies aren't like... what happened to you. Maybe you will change your mind." Before she could interrupt, he held up his hands. "Or maybe you won't. Maybe you'll adopt someday."
"Yeah, that worked out really great for my parents. Look what they ended up with."
"Your parents loved you. And there's nothing wrong with you, either."
"I found a notebook from my father, in Silent Hill. He said sometimes he wanted to kill me when I was a baby, when he got me again from Alessa."
She looked so sad when she said that that he put his arm around her, even though he had promised himself to stop touching her.
"But he never hurt you, did he? He went through hell in Silent Hill, but in the end he knew it wasn't your fault, and he took care of you."
Cheryl nodded, and he stroked her back for a moment, watching as she began to relax.
"I still don’t think I’m ever going to be a mother," she said.
"There are other people out there who don't want kids either, I'm sure," he said awkwardly as he backed away. "Anyway, you don't need to think about anything like that for years now. Just have a date or something. Go spend some time with people your own age instead of hanging around me too much and getting funny ideas."
"Just tell me one thing, and honestly this time," she said. "When I kissed you, you said you never thought of me that way. Was that the truth?"
Douglas wished he could lie again, because it was only going to give her more ideas, but she was looking right into his eyes and she was going to know. "It wasn't the truth, but it should have been, all right?"
He was afraid she might make a dramatic scene when he said it, but she just nodded and looked a little sad again. She did already know, he thought.
He couldn't say things were perfect between them after that -- she gave him significant looks now and then, which he pretended to ignore. But he had hopes that the whole thing would be buried. A few days after her birthday he came from an evening of insurance work to find her painting her nails at the kitchen table. He looked at her curiously.
"I won't make a mess, OK?" she said.
"Well, sure. Do whatever you want." The nail polish was some kind of orange sparkly stuff. Cheryl liked to look nice but he couldn't remember ever seeing her do her nails before.
"I have to look nice for my date tomorrow," she said, putting a heavy emphasis on the word "date."
"You have a date?" he asked. Why was he surprised, when he kept encouraging her to do just that?
She nodded. "His name is John, and he's taking me to the movies."
"That sounds nice," said Douglas, though Cheryl looked a little more devious than innocently happy right now. Then again, maybe that was his imagination. "Have a good time."
"You aren't going to warn me about teenage boys?"
She really was trying to annoy him; he was sure of it now, but he couldn’t call her on it. And what was he supposed to warn her about? She was on birth control, and-- Douglas suddenly decided not to let his brain keep thinking about any of this.
"I am going to watch television," he said in a grumpy voice.
Cheryl joined him on the couch like she always did, holding her nails carefully and not making conversation. She fell asleep halfway through some violent cop show and ended up leaning against his shoulder. He wondered if she'd been staying awake at night, and he hoped it wasn't nightmares again. She looked so peaceful there on the couch that he didn't have the heart to wake her. Then again, he couldn't afford to let her cuddle up to him like that, so he edged away carefully and covered her up with an old afghan.
For a moment he just stood and looked at her face. She was so pretty, and now every time he looked at her he wished for another kiss, and sometimes had to hold himself back. But that would all pass. Maybe she was really interested in this guy John, or would be anyway. Douglas felt a pang of guilty jealousy when he thought of it, and shook his head. It's the best thing for her, he reminded himself. He did know that if some boy ever hurt her then Douglas would put him in pain he would never forget. But then he laughed silently. Cheryl could take care of herself. She stirred but didn't open her eyes.
Stop looking at her now, he told himself, and went off to bed.
The next evening Cheryl put on a charming little miniskirt outfit that Douglas tried not to look at directly. He reminded himself that she was wearing it for her date, not for him, but the way Cheryl was smiling at him still made him wonder.
When there was knock on the door, he bolted for his room but Cheryl caught him by the sleeve. "Someone has to be here to meet him," she said.
"That would be you," he replied, but meanwhile she was already opening the door to admit a skinny kid with blond hair and what Douglas immediately evaluated as an insincere smile. Cheryl could do way better than that, he thought to himself, then told himself to shut up. “Better” certainly didn’t mean a balding private detective in his fifties, either.
"Douglas, this is John. John, this is my... my... Douglas Cartland." Douglas nodded and shook the kid's hand.
"Are you Cheryl’s uncle or something?" John asked.
If Cheryl hadn't explained their living arrangements to him, Douglas wasn't about to help out.
"We're not related. At all. He's... a friend of my dad's," said Cheryl.
Douglas raised his eyebrows at the bold-faced lie but didn't correct her. John apparently knew that Cheryl's dad was no longer living, at least, because that seemed to shut him up.
"Douglas is a private detective," Cheryl went on.
"That sounds very interesting," John said.
"People say that all the time. Mostly it's just surveillance work. And the occasional trip to the mall over in Portland," he said with a glare at Cheryl, who looked like she was about to laugh.
“Do you carry a gun?" the kid asked.
Cheryl made a snorting noise. "Sometimes," said Douglas. I use it to shoot snotty teenagers, he added mentally.
"When do I need to be home by?" asked Cheryl. She was really pushing it, but he knew "That's not my damn problem," was not the right answer. Midnight seemed too early for an eighteen-year-old though, not that he would know. Did they even have curfews? "One a.m.?" he ventured.
John nodded. "I'll have her home before that, sir," he said.
Sir? Now Eddie Haskell there was pushing it. "Just don't make a lot of noise coming in, because I'm going to bed after the ball game," he muttered.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to stay up all night waiting to hear about what a great time she had. Douglas might have encouraged her to date but he was only human.
As they headed for the parking lot, he went to the door and called after them. "You still carry that switchblade, right Cheryl?"
John made a surprised noise and Cheryl turned to glare at Douglas. He grinned just a little. "Have a great time, kids."