Fic -- Hard Truths
Title: Hard Truths
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1115
Characters: Top/Golden Glider
Summary: Roscoe takes a much-needed step.
Warnings: None
Notes: Set in an RPverse. Part One of three loosely-related fics, although you don't need to read them all to get the full story. Len's words are quoted from some old RP.
It had been a pleasant evening, starting with dinner at an upscale restaurant in downtown Keystone and followed by a languid walk toward the river. Holding hands with Lisa and looking at the lights of Central City across the water, Roscoe couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy. Certainly it was before arriving in this universe, probably during an outing with the Lisa he’d known in his former world. He still missed her.
“We should go over to Central sometime soon,” this Lisa was saying. “Shoe selection is so much better over there, it’s such a pain.”
“Uh, okay,” he agreed, although shopping was hardly his favourite activity. He’d probably end up visiting the electronics stores while she tried on clothes and yet more clothes.
They wandered aimlessly for a bit along the river, enjoying the scenery and relative peace. Lisa liked watching the people they passed and the things they were doing, while Roscoe was often annoyed by them and would have preferred if the couple was alone. But even the garrulous teenagers didn’t bother him much tonight; he was calm and relaxed.
Eventually they found a bench overlooking the water and sat down, Lisa resting her head on his shoulder.
“What a great night,” she sighed contentedly. “Beautiful weather, a delicious dinner, and wonderful company.”
Roscoe smiled and put an arm around her. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the view and each other’s company, and then he cleared his throat. He had no idea how to broach the subject on his mind, so decided to forge on ahead and hope things turned out well.
“I was, um, wondering what you thought about marriage.”
Lisa actually jumped when he said it, and he didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign. But her body quickly tensed, and he was fairly certain that was bad.
“If that was out of line, then I apologize,” he said in confusion, utterly crestfallen but determined not to show it. “It was a question, not an ultimatum.”
“It’s not that,” she replied, biting her lip. Her brother’s words echoed in her head, as they had so many times since she’d started dating this Roscoe. He needs help, Lisa. Professional help and medicine. If he'd get help...I'll give you away at your wedding.
She didn’t need Len’s permission to date or marry, and would have told him where to go if he’d tried to dictate her life. But she also knew he was right. I'm terrified that you're going to end up hurt because Roscoe won't get help, was what he’d said. Dad loved us and mom too. And it never stopped him from hurting us.
Roscoe had never threatened her and she’d never been afraid of him, but she knew he had psychological problems. Her father had been an alcoholic, and though Roscoe didn’t drink much, she worried that the cycle of abuse might continue in another manner. There was no way she wanted the relationship to advance further -- let alone possibly bring children into it -- if he didn’t at least try to address his issues.
“It’s not that,” she repeated, and he looked at her curiously, with obvious hurt. “I don’t know how to say this, Roscoe. But I’m not going to marry you until you see a psychiatrist.”
“What?” was all he could manage in response. This had come completely out of nowhere, as far as he knew. She briefly explained her reasoning, and he was utterly thunderstruck. In shock.
“Is that what you think of me?” he asked in dismay, head in hands. They weren’t cuddling anymore. She knew she’d upset him and felt bad about it, but decided to forge on with the truth.
“It’s what everyone thinks,” she said gently, and his entire body shuddered.
“I should have known,” he muttered, and the despair was obvious in his voice so she hugged him.
“Roscoe, I’ve known about your problems and I’ve always loved you anyway. What does that tell you?”
“I don’t know.”
“It means that you’re more than your psychological issues, and we can get through this.”
His voice was becoming increasingly quiet as his head lowered further. “If I see a psychiatrist.”
“Yes, sweetie,” she said firmly.
“…fine.”
The word was barely audible, but she pulled him to her and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, sweetie, you made the right decision. I’m so happy.”
He didn’t say anything, trying as hard as he was not to lose control, not to get angry nor cry out his humiliation. Everyone thought he was crazy and would surely have a good laugh over the fearsome Roscoe Dillon visiting a shrink. His pride had been damaged, and he looked weak. And on top of it all, everybody thought he was a violent nutcase who might beat the only person he’d ever loved. It was too much to endure.
“I’m sorry, I have to go home,” he finally mumbled, pulling himself away from her embrace. He was pale and sweating profusely but unaware of it, and staggered home in a daze with her. Back at their apartment, she put him to bed and stayed up all night in the living room, worrying that she hadn’t handled the situation very well.
****
The following week, Lisa held Roscoe’s hand as they approached the medical arts building downtown. He was shaking slightly, a reminder of his fear of doctors.
“You’re doing great,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, though he didn’t smile in response. His eyes darted back and forth at his surroundings as they went through the front door, and she half-expected him to turn and run. But he kept walking, the trembling worsening as they entered the elevator and traveled to their destination. He paused outside the doctor's waiting room, swallowed uncomfortably, and stepped in when the door opened with what seemed to him like an ominous thud.
Waiting for the receptionist to call his name seemed to take an interminably long time, but he managed to stand when she did. Lisa blew a kiss as he took faltering steps towards the psychiatrist, and then suddenly he was inside the office and the door had closed behind him. Roscoe stared at the doctor with terror, but remembered Lisa was waiting for him in the other room and that he could kill this man easily. Somehow it soothed his fear a bit.
“Welcome, I’m Dr. Evans,” the psychiatrist said with a pleasant smile, and despite everything Roscoe slowly reached out to shake his hand. He had a calm, unassuming demeanor which put the patient at ease. “What brings you here today?”
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1115
Characters: Top/Golden Glider
Summary: Roscoe takes a much-needed step.
Warnings: None
Notes: Set in an RPverse. Part One of three loosely-related fics, although you don't need to read them all to get the full story. Len's words are quoted from some old RP.
It had been a pleasant evening, starting with dinner at an upscale restaurant in downtown Keystone and followed by a languid walk toward the river. Holding hands with Lisa and looking at the lights of Central City across the water, Roscoe couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy. Certainly it was before arriving in this universe, probably during an outing with the Lisa he’d known in his former world. He still missed her.
“We should go over to Central sometime soon,” this Lisa was saying. “Shoe selection is so much better over there, it’s such a pain.”
“Uh, okay,” he agreed, although shopping was hardly his favourite activity. He’d probably end up visiting the electronics stores while she tried on clothes and yet more clothes.
They wandered aimlessly for a bit along the river, enjoying the scenery and relative peace. Lisa liked watching the people they passed and the things they were doing, while Roscoe was often annoyed by them and would have preferred if the couple was alone. But even the garrulous teenagers didn’t bother him much tonight; he was calm and relaxed.
Eventually they found a bench overlooking the water and sat down, Lisa resting her head on his shoulder.
“What a great night,” she sighed contentedly. “Beautiful weather, a delicious dinner, and wonderful company.”
Roscoe smiled and put an arm around her. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the view and each other’s company, and then he cleared his throat. He had no idea how to broach the subject on his mind, so decided to forge on ahead and hope things turned out well.
“I was, um, wondering what you thought about marriage.”
Lisa actually jumped when he said it, and he didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign. But her body quickly tensed, and he was fairly certain that was bad.
“If that was out of line, then I apologize,” he said in confusion, utterly crestfallen but determined not to show it. “It was a question, not an ultimatum.”
“It’s not that,” she replied, biting her lip. Her brother’s words echoed in her head, as they had so many times since she’d started dating this Roscoe. He needs help, Lisa. Professional help and medicine. If he'd get help...I'll give you away at your wedding.
She didn’t need Len’s permission to date or marry, and would have told him where to go if he’d tried to dictate her life. But she also knew he was right. I'm terrified that you're going to end up hurt because Roscoe won't get help, was what he’d said. Dad loved us and mom too. And it never stopped him from hurting us.
Roscoe had never threatened her and she’d never been afraid of him, but she knew he had psychological problems. Her father had been an alcoholic, and though Roscoe didn’t drink much, she worried that the cycle of abuse might continue in another manner. There was no way she wanted the relationship to advance further -- let alone possibly bring children into it -- if he didn’t at least try to address his issues.
“It’s not that,” she repeated, and he looked at her curiously, with obvious hurt. “I don’t know how to say this, Roscoe. But I’m not going to marry you until you see a psychiatrist.”
“What?” was all he could manage in response. This had come completely out of nowhere, as far as he knew. She briefly explained her reasoning, and he was utterly thunderstruck. In shock.
“Is that what you think of me?” he asked in dismay, head in hands. They weren’t cuddling anymore. She knew she’d upset him and felt bad about it, but decided to forge on with the truth.
“It’s what everyone thinks,” she said gently, and his entire body shuddered.
“I should have known,” he muttered, and the despair was obvious in his voice so she hugged him.
“Roscoe, I’ve known about your problems and I’ve always loved you anyway. What does that tell you?”
“I don’t know.”
“It means that you’re more than your psychological issues, and we can get through this.”
His voice was becoming increasingly quiet as his head lowered further. “If I see a psychiatrist.”
“Yes, sweetie,” she said firmly.
“…fine.”
The word was barely audible, but she pulled him to her and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, sweetie, you made the right decision. I’m so happy.”
He didn’t say anything, trying as hard as he was not to lose control, not to get angry nor cry out his humiliation. Everyone thought he was crazy and would surely have a good laugh over the fearsome Roscoe Dillon visiting a shrink. His pride had been damaged, and he looked weak. And on top of it all, everybody thought he was a violent nutcase who might beat the only person he’d ever loved. It was too much to endure.
“I’m sorry, I have to go home,” he finally mumbled, pulling himself away from her embrace. He was pale and sweating profusely but unaware of it, and staggered home in a daze with her. Back at their apartment, she put him to bed and stayed up all night in the living room, worrying that she hadn’t handled the situation very well.
****
The following week, Lisa held Roscoe’s hand as they approached the medical arts building downtown. He was shaking slightly, a reminder of his fear of doctors.
“You’re doing great,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, though he didn’t smile in response. His eyes darted back and forth at his surroundings as they went through the front door, and she half-expected him to turn and run. But he kept walking, the trembling worsening as they entered the elevator and traveled to their destination. He paused outside the doctor's waiting room, swallowed uncomfortably, and stepped in when the door opened with what seemed to him like an ominous thud.
Waiting for the receptionist to call his name seemed to take an interminably long time, but he managed to stand when she did. Lisa blew a kiss as he took faltering steps towards the psychiatrist, and then suddenly he was inside the office and the door had closed behind him. Roscoe stared at the doctor with terror, but remembered Lisa was waiting for him in the other room and that he could kill this man easily. Somehow it soothed his fear a bit.
“Welcome, I’m Dr. Evans,” the psychiatrist said with a pleasant smile, and despite everything Roscoe slowly reached out to shake his hand. He had a calm, unassuming demeanor which put the patient at ease. “What brings you here today?”