[Fic] Healing One - Sassy Shit
Healing
Sydney Alexis
One - Sassy Shit
[Gus' age: 16]
Gus was a sassy little shit. Sharp tongued and quick witted, he grew up to be an extremely intelligent, highly antisocial, mal-adjust. The school had labeled him ‘at risk’ and his mothers pegged him as a ‘troubled’ teen. The kid wasn’t stupid; he’d heard his mothers whispering late at night, and he sure as fuck saw those brochures for brat camps.
As far as Gus could tell, Lindsay only told Brian snatches of what was happening-detention for cussing and vandalism, suspensions for fighting and truancy. She used fancy words like insubordinate behavior, malicious mischief, and insufferable demeanor like she was listing off items in a fucking court martial document instead of talking about her kid.
The funny thing is that it wasn’t the cussing or the totally bogus arson charges the school tried to pin on him that made his mother crack. Oh no…it was the day he decided to start calling his parental units by their given name.
Two days later, Mel and Lindsay decided it was time to drop hints of what was to come. It was a Thursday morning. Gus had been in the middle of buttering his too-burned-to-be-toast when Mel casually mentioned that, instead of going to his fathers’ home that summer, he’d be spending his time in a ‘summer camp’ in the middle of Montana.
Assuming it was another bluff to get him to behave for the last eight weeks of school, Gus rolled his eyes, grabbed his partially buttered, burned to a crisp toast, and left the house without a word. He forgot all about it until some stupid bitch from the ‘Save the Miscreants’ showed up on a Saturday afternoon to talk to his mothers.
That was when he pulled out his secret weapon, or rather, his cell phone and dialed his father’s number.
“Kinney.”
“Dad, you’re not going to believe the shit that the Lesbi-moms are up to this time.”
Gus listened to the exasperated sigh on the other end. He knew his father hated getting pulled into the middle of Peterson-Marcus-Kinney drama, but this shit was important.
Knowing his father had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to getting to the crux of things, he blurted out the one thing he knew would make his father take notice:
“They’re not going to let me come back to the Pitts this summer. They’re downstairs talking to some stupid cow about sending me to a brat camp in Podunk, Montana.”
A long, drawn out silence followed. If it were anyone else he was talking to, Gus would have been nervously filling the space with words, but he knew that tactic wouldn’t work here.
“Gus,” Brian started.
Just the way his name was said, Gus knew what the response would be and shit if the walls didn’t start moving in like he was twelve years old and having another fucking panic attack. There were a lot of things he’d put up with over the years-JR having the much bigger bedroom, the shitty part time job he had to get to help his parents out when money got tight, and acting like a fucking valet so JR could be in ballet and volleyball instead of having the extra hours each week to have a fucking life-but he wouldn’t, couldn’t be cut off from his dads. Ironically enough, his dads were the only stable thing in his life.
“It’s just…it’s just this place. It's small, you know? And it’s so loud here, Dad. There’s just so much noise. JR’s always blasting boy bands through the walls and talking on the phone and Mom and Momma are always arguing,” Gus trailed off, the ‘about me’ left off the end of his statement, but it was heard nonetheless.
“I know I’ve screwed up. I know that I’ve been a total shit to the moms, but there’s so much noise going on in my head. I feel like I can’t hear myself think. I need to get out of here,” Gus added, voice breaking slightly at the end. He released a puff of air and plunged ahead.
“Dad, please,” he said, softly.
Despite the fact that his little sister had a propensity for drama, Gus tended to be even keel. Rare indeed was the day he actually pleaded for anything.
There was yet another long-agonizingly long-pause at other end.
“Let me talk to your mothers,” Brian breathed into the phone.
Two - Bare
Shout out to shadownyc for the beta.
Sydney Alexis
One - Sassy Shit
[Gus' age: 16]
Gus was a sassy little shit. Sharp tongued and quick witted, he grew up to be an extremely intelligent, highly antisocial, mal-adjust. The school had labeled him ‘at risk’ and his mothers pegged him as a ‘troubled’ teen. The kid wasn’t stupid; he’d heard his mothers whispering late at night, and he sure as fuck saw those brochures for brat camps.
As far as Gus could tell, Lindsay only told Brian snatches of what was happening-detention for cussing and vandalism, suspensions for fighting and truancy. She used fancy words like insubordinate behavior, malicious mischief, and insufferable demeanor like she was listing off items in a fucking court martial document instead of talking about her kid.
The funny thing is that it wasn’t the cussing or the totally bogus arson charges the school tried to pin on him that made his mother crack. Oh no…it was the day he decided to start calling his parental units by their given name.
Two days later, Mel and Lindsay decided it was time to drop hints of what was to come. It was a Thursday morning. Gus had been in the middle of buttering his too-burned-to-be-toast when Mel casually mentioned that, instead of going to his fathers’ home that summer, he’d be spending his time in a ‘summer camp’ in the middle of Montana.
Assuming it was another bluff to get him to behave for the last eight weeks of school, Gus rolled his eyes, grabbed his partially buttered, burned to a crisp toast, and left the house without a word. He forgot all about it until some stupid bitch from the ‘Save the Miscreants’ showed up on a Saturday afternoon to talk to his mothers.
That was when he pulled out his secret weapon, or rather, his cell phone and dialed his father’s number.
“Kinney.”
“Dad, you’re not going to believe the shit that the Lesbi-moms are up to this time.”
Gus listened to the exasperated sigh on the other end. He knew his father hated getting pulled into the middle of Peterson-Marcus-Kinney drama, but this shit was important.
Knowing his father had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to getting to the crux of things, he blurted out the one thing he knew would make his father take notice:
“They’re not going to let me come back to the Pitts this summer. They’re downstairs talking to some stupid cow about sending me to a brat camp in Podunk, Montana.”
A long, drawn out silence followed. If it were anyone else he was talking to, Gus would have been nervously filling the space with words, but he knew that tactic wouldn’t work here.
“Gus,” Brian started.
Just the way his name was said, Gus knew what the response would be and shit if the walls didn’t start moving in like he was twelve years old and having another fucking panic attack. There were a lot of things he’d put up with over the years-JR having the much bigger bedroom, the shitty part time job he had to get to help his parents out when money got tight, and acting like a fucking valet so JR could be in ballet and volleyball instead of having the extra hours each week to have a fucking life-but he wouldn’t, couldn’t be cut off from his dads. Ironically enough, his dads were the only stable thing in his life.
“It’s just…it’s just this place. It's small, you know? And it’s so loud here, Dad. There’s just so much noise. JR’s always blasting boy bands through the walls and talking on the phone and Mom and Momma are always arguing,” Gus trailed off, the ‘about me’ left off the end of his statement, but it was heard nonetheless.
“I know I’ve screwed up. I know that I’ve been a total shit to the moms, but there’s so much noise going on in my head. I feel like I can’t hear myself think. I need to get out of here,” Gus added, voice breaking slightly at the end. He released a puff of air and plunged ahead.
“Dad, please,” he said, softly.
Despite the fact that his little sister had a propensity for drama, Gus tended to be even keel. Rare indeed was the day he actually pleaded for anything.
There was yet another long-agonizingly long-pause at other end.
“Let me talk to your mothers,” Brian breathed into the phone.
Two - Bare
Shout out to shadownyc for the beta.