Once A Brother: Chapter 12
Title: Once A Brother
Author: Solarbaby
Rating: T
Disclaimer: All I own is the plot.
Words: 1371
General Summary: Sometimes being a brother is better than being a superhero.
Drabble Summary: Casey get drunk, there’s some angst from RJ and then someone shows up.
Spoilers: None?
Notes: We’re finally, finally getting some plot in here.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Batman and Bad Influences
This was becoming a regular occurrence, Fran thought as she tossed her keys on the counter and she watched the figure huddled on the couch. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Casey there. No, as a matter of fact, she enjoyed have the man around, making her life just that much less boring. What caused her some concern was the dark green half empty glass bottle that was sitting innocently on the coffee table; one that she knew for a fact was full when she last saw it.
There was a protesting noise when she came over and took it away, sighing. “What’s happened now?”
It was quiet, except for the rustling of boxes as she moved them a side in the cabinet and shoved the bottle to the back. Just as she was sure that an answer wasn’t going to come, she heard the muffled voice. “It’s nothing.”
Fran turned to see Casey rubbing his face, staring at the now empty spot on the table. Blinking, she did a double take when she caught sight of his hands. “Shit, Casey!”
She was by his side in a moment, pulling his hands away from his face. The alcohol must have made him more docile since they moved away easily, only giving a hiss as her thumb brushed across his bruised knuckles. “Casey?”
The concern in her voice had him blinking, confused. “What?”
His befuddled expression seemed sincere and she wasn’t sure if that or his hands worried her more. It looked as though he really didn’t know what was wrong, which, in any other instance, might have been endearing but right now all it did was annoy her. “This!” She lifted up his hand for him to see, causing realization to bloom across his face.
“Oh,” Casey muttered, something resembling guilt appearing in his eyes, “that.” He gave a shrug and carefully extracted his hand from her grip, wincing slightly. “Jarrod has a hard head.”
“Jarrod?” Fran shook her head. “Casey, when I said to stand up for yourself, this isn’t what I meant.”
He just blinked, staring at his hand as if seeing it for the first time. “I hit him.” A frown flittered across his face as he made a fist with the hurt hand before slowly unfurling it. Confusion littered his features. “I. hit. him,” Casey said it slowly, testing out each word.
She just sighed and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”
Getting him up and moving was easy enough, making her wonder just what else she could get him to do drunk like this, but it was getting him to walk in a straight line that seemed to be the problem. He stumbled and flailed around a bit, almost smacking into his head into the wall in more than one occasion.
“I’m Batman,” he announced, after they managed to make it to the bathroom and he had started contemplating at his own reflection in the mirror and she had begun digging around in the linen closet.
That caused Fran to snort, jerking her head up and smacking it into a shelf. The look she gave him was nothing short of incredulous. “You’re Batman.”
“Yes,” he defended. Then he blinked and frowned, shuffling his feet. “Well, no. But I could be. I have money. Lots of money.”
“I’m sure you do.” Giving him a passing pat on the check, she sat the white box on the sink. The latch on it didn’t want to move and she gave it a couple of bangs before it popped open with an angry ‘snikt’.
He gave a huff and crossed his arms, only to have her yank them apart with the strict instructions to wash his hands. There was a long suffering sigh before he did as she said. “I do! Well,” he paused, using the moment to dry off his hands, “it used to be mom’s money but I got it all when I graduated. There’s a lot. So I could be Batman if I wanted.”
It was all she could do not to laugh. “I think Ocean Bluff has enough spandex clad superheroes.” He looked as though he was going to say something but stopped himself. Fran waited but he stayed silent. “Plus, RJ would kill you if you tried.”
“…Batman’s suit is made of rubber.”
She couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her this time. “RJ would still kill you.”
There really wasn’t a lot he could say in response to that. He just settled for a pout as she wrapped up his hand and proceeded to usher him into the spare room.
“I think I broke Jarrod’s nose,” Casey called back to her as he fell back onto the bed.
A grin crossed her face as she rolled her eyes and flipped off the bedroom light. “Well, that’s because you’re Batman.”
He was already asleep.
oOoOoOoOoOo
There wasn’t a lot that RJ was afraid of. This, however, was one of them. Running a hand through his hair, he paced the kitchen floor. The loft was almost completely empty, Lily having taken Jarrod to the emergency room a while ago and Theo watching the parlor downstairs.
“I’m a bad influence on Casey.”
“You are not,” Fran replied from her stool at the kitchen counter, where she had been since arriving with the announcement that Casey was fine.
“He hit Jarrod!”
A snort escaped her, apparently not perturbed by the news in the least. “Hell, I was one step away from doing it myself! You know how he was treating Casey!”
That caused RJ to freeze for a moment before spinning around to face her. “What are you talking about?”
“You really didn’t see it?” The dark expression that crossed his face answered the question better than any words could. She shook her head, unbelieving. “Casey said you didn’t know but I really didn’t believe it. God, RJ, everyone saw it.”
A harsh breath escaped him as he reached out to grab the edge of the counter. His fingers were white where they gripped it and she wouldn’t have been surprised if they left permanent indentions in the marble. “Why didn’t Casey say anything?”
She sighed. “You know Casey. He doesn’t like letting anyone else solve his problems.” There was a humorless laugh in reply. “Look, Casey feels horrible about losing his temper the way he did. Trust me. A bad influence is the last thing you are.”
“You don’t know--,” he cut himself off, with a deep breath and a shake of his head.
“You’re right I don’t know. Because no one will tell me!” She slid off the stool and stepped up beside him. “I’m not stupid. I know there’s something going on here.” RJ started to say something, deny her words maybe, but she cut him off. “Frankly, I don’t care.”
He seemed a little taken aback by that.
“RJ, you love your brother. He knows that; we all know that. Don’t worry about him. Casey’s resilient. He’ll be fine.” She reached out and tentatively placed her hand on his shoulder.
If he was uncomfortable with the touch, he didn’t show it. “But that’s the thing. This is his home. He shouldn’t have to be forced to defend himself like that here.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was something dark in them when they were opened again-- protective, almost violent. “And he won’t have to. I’ll make sure of that.”
The words were unsettling at best, pretty much affirming any suspicions she had about him. But she pushed them aside, not really caring for once. He was just trying to protect his brother. Plus, she didn’t think he would actually hurt Jarrod. Not too badly, anyways. Fran smiled at him, wavering only a little, before she pulled him in for a hug.
He stiffened at the touch, before relaxing slightly and tentatively hugging her back.
“Am I interrupting something?”
The two jumped apart, almost as if burned. A gray haired man was standing by the railing at the stairs to the parlor, expression shifting between amusement and irritation.
RJ blinked, shook his head, and blinked again. “Dad?”
Author: Solarbaby
Rating: T
Disclaimer: All I own is the plot.
Words: 1371
General Summary: Sometimes being a brother is better than being a superhero.
Drabble Summary: Casey get drunk, there’s some angst from RJ and then someone shows up.
Spoilers: None?
Notes: We’re finally, finally getting some plot in here.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Batman and Bad Influences
This was becoming a regular occurrence, Fran thought as she tossed her keys on the counter and she watched the figure huddled on the couch. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Casey there. No, as a matter of fact, she enjoyed have the man around, making her life just that much less boring. What caused her some concern was the dark green half empty glass bottle that was sitting innocently on the coffee table; one that she knew for a fact was full when she last saw it.
There was a protesting noise when she came over and took it away, sighing. “What’s happened now?”
It was quiet, except for the rustling of boxes as she moved them a side in the cabinet and shoved the bottle to the back. Just as she was sure that an answer wasn’t going to come, she heard the muffled voice. “It’s nothing.”
Fran turned to see Casey rubbing his face, staring at the now empty spot on the table. Blinking, she did a double take when she caught sight of his hands. “Shit, Casey!”
She was by his side in a moment, pulling his hands away from his face. The alcohol must have made him more docile since they moved away easily, only giving a hiss as her thumb brushed across his bruised knuckles. “Casey?”
The concern in her voice had him blinking, confused. “What?”
His befuddled expression seemed sincere and she wasn’t sure if that or his hands worried her more. It looked as though he really didn’t know what was wrong, which, in any other instance, might have been endearing but right now all it did was annoy her. “This!” She lifted up his hand for him to see, causing realization to bloom across his face.
“Oh,” Casey muttered, something resembling guilt appearing in his eyes, “that.” He gave a shrug and carefully extracted his hand from her grip, wincing slightly. “Jarrod has a hard head.”
“Jarrod?” Fran shook her head. “Casey, when I said to stand up for yourself, this isn’t what I meant.”
He just blinked, staring at his hand as if seeing it for the first time. “I hit him.” A frown flittered across his face as he made a fist with the hurt hand before slowly unfurling it. Confusion littered his features. “I. hit. him,” Casey said it slowly, testing out each word.
She just sighed and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”
Getting him up and moving was easy enough, making her wonder just what else she could get him to do drunk like this, but it was getting him to walk in a straight line that seemed to be the problem. He stumbled and flailed around a bit, almost smacking into his head into the wall in more than one occasion.
“I’m Batman,” he announced, after they managed to make it to the bathroom and he had started contemplating at his own reflection in the mirror and she had begun digging around in the linen closet.
That caused Fran to snort, jerking her head up and smacking it into a shelf. The look she gave him was nothing short of incredulous. “You’re Batman.”
“Yes,” he defended. Then he blinked and frowned, shuffling his feet. “Well, no. But I could be. I have money. Lots of money.”
“I’m sure you do.” Giving him a passing pat on the check, she sat the white box on the sink. The latch on it didn’t want to move and she gave it a couple of bangs before it popped open with an angry ‘snikt’.
He gave a huff and crossed his arms, only to have her yank them apart with the strict instructions to wash his hands. There was a long suffering sigh before he did as she said. “I do! Well,” he paused, using the moment to dry off his hands, “it used to be mom’s money but I got it all when I graduated. There’s a lot. So I could be Batman if I wanted.”
It was all she could do not to laugh. “I think Ocean Bluff has enough spandex clad superheroes.” He looked as though he was going to say something but stopped himself. Fran waited but he stayed silent. “Plus, RJ would kill you if you tried.”
“…Batman’s suit is made of rubber.”
She couldn’t stop the snort that escaped her this time. “RJ would still kill you.”
There really wasn’t a lot he could say in response to that. He just settled for a pout as she wrapped up his hand and proceeded to usher him into the spare room.
“I think I broke Jarrod’s nose,” Casey called back to her as he fell back onto the bed.
A grin crossed her face as she rolled her eyes and flipped off the bedroom light. “Well, that’s because you’re Batman.”
He was already asleep.
oOoOoOoOoOo
There wasn’t a lot that RJ was afraid of. This, however, was one of them. Running a hand through his hair, he paced the kitchen floor. The loft was almost completely empty, Lily having taken Jarrod to the emergency room a while ago and Theo watching the parlor downstairs.
“I’m a bad influence on Casey.”
“You are not,” Fran replied from her stool at the kitchen counter, where she had been since arriving with the announcement that Casey was fine.
“He hit Jarrod!”
A snort escaped her, apparently not perturbed by the news in the least. “Hell, I was one step away from doing it myself! You know how he was treating Casey!”
That caused RJ to freeze for a moment before spinning around to face her. “What are you talking about?”
“You really didn’t see it?” The dark expression that crossed his face answered the question better than any words could. She shook her head, unbelieving. “Casey said you didn’t know but I really didn’t believe it. God, RJ, everyone saw it.”
A harsh breath escaped him as he reached out to grab the edge of the counter. His fingers were white where they gripped it and she wouldn’t have been surprised if they left permanent indentions in the marble. “Why didn’t Casey say anything?”
She sighed. “You know Casey. He doesn’t like letting anyone else solve his problems.” There was a humorless laugh in reply. “Look, Casey feels horrible about losing his temper the way he did. Trust me. A bad influence is the last thing you are.”
“You don’t know--,” he cut himself off, with a deep breath and a shake of his head.
“You’re right I don’t know. Because no one will tell me!” She slid off the stool and stepped up beside him. “I’m not stupid. I know there’s something going on here.” RJ started to say something, deny her words maybe, but she cut him off. “Frankly, I don’t care.”
He seemed a little taken aback by that.
“RJ, you love your brother. He knows that; we all know that. Don’t worry about him. Casey’s resilient. He’ll be fine.” She reached out and tentatively placed her hand on his shoulder.
If he was uncomfortable with the touch, he didn’t show it. “But that’s the thing. This is his home. He shouldn’t have to be forced to defend himself like that here.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was something dark in them when they were opened again-- protective, almost violent. “And he won’t have to. I’ll make sure of that.”
The words were unsettling at best, pretty much affirming any suspicions she had about him. But she pushed them aside, not really caring for once. He was just trying to protect his brother. Plus, she didn’t think he would actually hurt Jarrod. Not too badly, anyways. Fran smiled at him, wavering only a little, before she pulled him in for a hug.
He stiffened at the touch, before relaxing slightly and tentatively hugging her back.
“Am I interrupting something?”
The two jumped apart, almost as if burned. A gray haired man was standing by the railing at the stairs to the parlor, expression shifting between amusement and irritation.
RJ blinked, shook his head, and blinked again. “Dad?”