#Hound is rough when Walter ask for it

[ruleofleft]

Hound is always soft when it comes to physical stuff with Walter, like light tapping to get his attention and trying to make noise so that he knows they’re there. Walter is actually a bit jumpy when it comes to sudden movements toward him, he never really realized it till Hound asked him one day, Walter was a bit confused till Hound pointed it out. Needless to said Walter got a little teary eyed, he never really expected his friends to try and accommodate to make sure he was comfortable. Hound tells him that if they ever do or say anything that makes him uncomfortable to please let them know so they can fix it. At that point Walter cries and Hound panics a bit while asking him if they said something to upset him.

[notgonnarememberthis]

today (of all days) - pt 5

Surprise!!! Through encouragement of friends I’ve decided to release one chapter a day to finish this story off the day before prodigal son returns! So the next one will be the plus one coming out tomorrow and a bonus chapter coming Monday. Hope y’all like this one! 

The knock is soft and hesitant, Gil almost misses it while he’s combing over files. He checks the time with a huff, he should probably get dinner soon anyways. Maybe he’ll roll by Malcolm’s and make sure he’s eating, knowing all too well that he’s throwing himself into this case just as hard, if not more, than he is.

He stretches himself out before walking to the door, mindful of Icarus who has half the mind to trot beside him to try to dart out the door if he opens it too wide. He opens it slowly, foot placed in front of the ginger cat to keep it back.

Jessica stands in front of the door, a bag in one hand and a drink tray balanced on the other. She sucks in a breath and he can see her carefully planned speech falling apart. This was the first time he’s seen her since that day in the station, when she admitted she was talking to Martin again. When he offered to be her ear again. She swallows heavily only able to get out, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” He nods. “Of course.” He steps aside letting her slip by with ease. She smiles down at Icarus who takes the opportunity to rub along her legs. He knows if she hadn’t had her hands full, she’d be scratching his head right now. “Is that?”

“Mel’s diner, yes it is. I got the cherry pie too.”

“How’d you know, I was just about to make dinner.”

“You and Malcolm have remarkably similar eating habits. Meaning it’ll be the last thing on either of your agendas until either a case is finished or someone snaps you out of it.” She settles everything on the table, pulling the food out of the bag with an almost robotic motion. He recognizes it, her mind and body has flipped into pure survival mode. She’s able to mask it when talking but her body language gives it away.

He sits on the couch next to her, eyes trained on her face the entire time. “Jess?”

She tenses, her eyes closing as she’s found out so quickly. Her posture deflates and she drops her head into her hand. “Please.” Her voice comes out more tired.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” She tries to hold him at arm's length, instead focused on her food but he takes her hand in his. She may not have come with the vintage bourbon like usual but he can see through it all. Mel’s is her comfort food. After a rough day, they’d bring Malcolm and Ainsley there, enjoy the atmosphere of anonymity. The noise of the customers was always enough to drown out her own demons. He’s more than able to see through it all. 

“Talk to me.” He says, his voice soft as he runs his thumb along the back of her hand.

She sighs, tipping her head back. Her jaw clenches, emotions bubbling to the surface that she forces back down again. “I’m writing a memoir.” She doesn’t look back at him, she knows what his reaction will be, or she thinks she does.

“A memoir?” His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “You said you’d never give in. That they could say whatever they wanted but they wouldn’t get a word from you. What changed?” She sighs, in the way she did any time they were brought up. “Birdie.” He nods in understanding.

“She’s been cut off. She’s emptied all her assets and she came to me… to publish her own book.”

“Why not just pay her off?” She’d done it before. Paid reporters, journalists, and other nosey bastards for her family’s privacy. She paid good money so that it was never leaked that Malcolm had changed his name. As far as the public knew Malcolm Whitly had faded into obscurity. 

“They were going to publish with or without her. Another author would take helm. We’d be exposed. I checked the information and it’s true. The publishing company is desperate. They’d already been looking for a writer who would take the chance for years.” No doubt, any writer who stepped up that would risk Jessica Whitly’s wrath would be one without good intentions. The book would be a slander on her family. No amount of burying the story would protect her, Malcolm, or Ainsley from that blowback. And Martin would revel in that chaos.

“So you’re taking the reins.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He wants to argue with her. That there’s always another choice but here, he finds it difficult. With Jessica writing it she’s telling her story, It’s not going to be tampered with by a second party. When it hits the shelf she’ll only do interviews with people Ainsley trusts, no Barbara Walters situation ever again. No second hand writers will hound Malcolm or Ainsley for their comments, knocking down boundaries that her kids aren’t even aware exist most of the time. It’s not about them. It’s about controlling the narrative.

The words feel awfully familiar. “Do Malcolm or Ainsley know?” She doesn’t even need to answer by the look that passes over her face, fond exasperation with some worry. 

“No, and I intend on keeping it that way for a while.”

“Jess.”

“Ainsley will just talk about how this is a good thing. She’s always excited about stories. Having them read mine is,” She lets out a bitter laugh. There were aspects of the aftermath that she kept from them. How it tore her apart more than she would ever admit. It was only recently that Ainsley got a peek past the incredible intricate persona Jessica put on for others. “Then Malcolm, he won’t like it at all. He’ll worry. He has enough on his plate right now. I’m not going to pull either of them into this if I can help it.”

“They will find out eventually.”

“I’ll keep it a secret as long as I can. I would appreciate it if you would too.”

“I won’t tell. But I think you should.”

“Not,” She shakes her head and he can see she’s trying to blink away tears. “Not yet.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there.”

Jessica laughs but nods, “The publisher pitched a name today. He wants to call it The One Who Survived. Bullshit, if you ask me.”

“Jess,” He moves to place a hand on her shoulder but she stands, anger flaring up with the movement.

“Why does it always go back to him?” She asks, he’s not sure if she’s looking for an answer but she continues before he can make a sound. “I raised two children. Both of which were stellar students. My son went to Harvard, worked with the FBI. My daughter is a critically acclaimed journalist and a newscaster.” She rakes both hands through her hair pacing across the living room. Atlas watches from a perch, his tail flicking with interest. “I have contributed to hundreds of foundations, I am a businesswoman. Why, why am I only the ex-wife?”

Gil steps up, his hands settling on her shoulders. She stops her rant, eyes falling on him in the same shocked and vulnerable gaze when he holds her. They haven’t been this close since… He pushes that to the back of his mind. “This is your memoir Jess. Not theirs. You’ve got the control here. Use it.”

“But-”

“But what? They’ve been asking for 20 years and you’re finally giving them what they asked for. It’s your story.”

“Where do I even start?” 

“Wherever feels right.” She lets out a slow breath and for a moment they stay like that. Standing in the remains of a connection that never dies. Her movement is slow, when she finally does, making sure that he stops her if he wants to. Her arms wrap around his torso and she tucks her head into his chest. He returns the hug, holding her close with his chin resting on top of her head.

“Thank you Gil.” She mumbles into his shirt. He runs a hand down her back in a comforting gesture. Having her this close makes his heart race and he’s certain she can hear it too. They’ve missed out on so much time. But for now he’s just happy to have her back again.

“Always.” He whispers, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

[nolvlost]

◀◀ ted

Nothing could make Teddy tarnish his perfect attendance. 

Get all your giggles out now for the nerd, a perfect school on attendance meant a lot of things for Theodore. It meant he was always punctual and reliable. It meant he worked hard to learn as much as he did, and just because he excelled in the majority of his classes doesn’t mean he could simply miss a day just because he has an intimate knowledge of the material. It meant getting an award stapled on the wall outside of your classroom during report card day, which sometimes happened to be his birthday. Oh, how cruel that would be if his grades were less than subpar. Nothing lesser than a high B for Mister Evans here. No days skipped or cut without a proper, written excuse from a medical professional. Even the freak accidents he manages to get into couldn’t stop that. Being struck by lightning couldn’t, so it’s safe to presume his perfect attendance will never be in jeopardy as long as he is diligent, persistent, and of course, perserverant. 

But that changed after one weekend. One Friday afternoon, after school, his friend, his best friend, Walter, walked with him to the park to hang out. It was near the rad pizza place that gave students a discount when they showed their I.D.s for a slice and a can of pop for 3 G. They both decided to get their grub on before going back to the park to celebrate the week on a high note, with the sun setting in a beautiful gradient from pink to orange. 

Another beautiful sight in Teddy’s mind was his friend. A stocky fellow who falled a few inches shorter than him. Walter had sandy blond hair and striking blue eyes and was missing a whole ear. He loved messing with people by giving them sometimes blatant, sometimes believable lies about it, but never the truth. The truth was that a dog viciously attacked him. Teddy was witness. Teddy was also that dog’s intended victim. But the blessing and curse that is his foolhardy, brave, yet, dumb as a bag of hammers friend got in the way to fight the dog and show it what for and got his ear chomped off for it. His heart skips a beat every time he looks at him from that side due to the absolute terror it was to see that, and also because he had feelings for the brash boy. 

How could he not, when that boy saved his life? Apart from that, he also managed to sneak into the teacher’s lounge to bring him coffee when he toiled away in the library studying for upcoming tests with heavy lids and notes that went from legible to chicken scratch. He was a bit of a delinquent, sure, who ditched class and verbally harassed others and said vulgar things to make girls uncomfortable. He was extremely rough around the edges but he had a softer side to him that Teddy thought was endearing that he was trying to hide it. He understood why, though. 

Got to keep up appearances. 

Hence why he swallowed all those wrong, disgusting, wrong feelings he had for his friend with a swig of soda he still  had left. He had girlfriends before. Atleast 2. So why did these thoughts about boys, about his best friend still come to mind to torture him? He drowned his sorrows in the cola. To think it would be coming out of his nose in disbelief at his friend’s words. 

It wasn’t a whole big confession, but he did admit to liking him, and after that spit take to prevent him from objecting, Walter kissed Teddy for the longest second of the boy’s lives. 

He tasted like the garlic knots he ordered a half hour ago and that was kind of gross. But Teddy’s heart was pounding loud and hard in his ears, trying to process it all as best as he could. A stuttered affirmation of liking Walter back sealed the deal. This was his boyfri- Well, let’s just take it slow, Walter suggests. They both watch the sunset until the street lights come on and head home with one last peck between them. 

They didn’t see each other that weekend, but they were texting up a storm during. He was so giddy, he had to lie to his grandmother and say he just found 20 G on the street. It made him have to give her 20 G for ‘safekeeping’ but that downer wouldn’t stop his jubilance. 

Except maybe a punch in the face the first moment he stepped in school on Monday. And another. Several, even, until his eye was swollen, his nose broken, and blood poured from his mouth. By none other than Walter. Apparently someone saw their little scene in the park and rumors spread faster than the common cold, both of which something Teddy never had to really worry about. Now he’s just concerned if his nose really is broken or if he’s supposed to just smell and taste iron. There were many things about Walt that Teddy liked, of course, but also some things he didn’t like. Like how defensive he could get when someone purposely pushed his buttons. Calling him gay sent him in a frenzy, and it was usually Teddy who calmed him down. 

But not today. Alongside the physical blows he shouted such hateful and hurtful things at Teddy, calling him slurs and even bringing up secrets only he shared with him since they were boy best friends.He was in a lot of pain. His body ached and his heart hurt. He understood why, though.

Got to keep up appearances.

A trip to the nurses office to dress these wounds, Walter was suspended and Teddy was given permission to head home so no other kids who didn’t witnessed the incident could hound him with questions. He pleaded with the nurse to tell his teachers why he was missing, and went home.

And stayed home for the rest of the week. He didn’t want to face his grandmother when the school called to tell her about the incident. Teddy didn’t want her to worry herself about his wounds. He could resist and get over anything, she knows that. He’s healthier than a horse. His nose wasn’t broken after all, but his room still smelled like iron as he locked himself up to avoid her and his sister’s gaze. 

He finally stepped out of his room, not yet ready to talk about what happened but to talk regardless. With a defeated look on his face, looking at the ground, he asked his grandmother one question.

“I think I should transfer schools.”

Besides, sure it hurt a lot to lose a friend, a boy friend, a best friend to something like awful rumors because of awful people but that perfect attendance went down the drain as well. It’s not like he could face anyone at school after that whole spectacle. And he was often told he was too bright for this school anyways, but several faculty who had the pleasure of knowing him. 

And he can build a perfect attendance at a new place. He just hopes he doesn’t make the mistake of having wrong, horrible, wrong feelings again that will hurt him and his punctuality again.