#but Hank won’t and he doesn’t need to! he is loved openly and honestly and any pain comes from having to grow and understand not from abuse
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I know some people are talking about Sally and Barry attempting to emulate their mentors in certain situations, which backfires on them, but I don’t think Barry gave up on trying to be Fuches halfway through. Actually, it was a perfect impression. When he started screaming down the line at Hank, it’s because that’s what Fuches does. Whenever Barry tells him firmly that it’s over and he’s not going to help Fuches anymore, Fuches loses his shit; he yells at Barry that he’s pathetic, he won’t survive without him, when I find you motherfucker! Barry’s mistake was failing to recognise that Hank isn’t him. Hank respects himself, genuinely cares about other people and, most importantly, won’t degrade himself just to feel like somebody loves him. But Barry absolutely would and, with all his other damage, that’s why he’s furious that Hank somehow says no to him.
#barry will always walk on his knees for a hundred miles through the desert#but Hank will let the soft animal of his body love what it loves#and he would never ever do himself damage for somebody to use him. Barry always does#I’m not defending Barry btw I’m not that vein of Barry fan I hope he explodes in an explosion and fuches and maybe gene comes with <3#but Barry has never been loved unselfishly. never been loved by somebody not using him. so he understands love as sacrifice and pain ONLY#love is not gentle. love is a thousand tiny needles. love is their teeth embedded in your heart#so when Hank - who knows love can be both sacrifice and tenderness that you expose the worst of you and have it kissed and not cut open -#when he doesn’t adhere to this system Barry has in his head (when he basically says ‘no. this not how love or the world really works.’)#Barry fucking loses it. The way Fuches loses it. because to them love is pain and if they don’t hurt you they don’t love you#and if they hurt you (no matter how awfully) then you forgive them in the end. you get to be a little upset. but you always go back. always#but Hank won’t and he doesn’t need to! he is loved openly and honestly and any pain comes from having to grow and understand not from abuse#and Barry loathes him for it. he hates it. and he’s never going to get out and he’ll never be free. he is sick sick sick#and there’s not a cure in the world for it anymore#not when he let it fester and get worse and worse and worse. and now it’s over before it’s over.#ANYWAYYYYT#barry#barry hbo#monroe fuches#noho hank#barry berkman#edit: yeah turns out Hank will also kill it though. oops!
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HANK’S TRANSFORMATION AS REACTION TO TRAUMA— DECENTER THE SELF
“I think the universe is trying to tell me something and I’m finally ready to listen.”— 3x07, One Minute
(Main Post)
To understand how Hank’s trauma transforms him over the course of the show, let’s start by thinking about what Hank is like at the beginning of the show.
At the beginning of the show, Hank is the picture of toxic masculine arrogance. In the Pilot, Walt envies Hank for his power and confidence. Hank is cool, successful, manly, and everything Walt feels he is not. But we as the audience see how Hank’s ego is hurtful to those around him: he is callous, racist, misogynistic, and focuses more on the power involved in his job (the ~thrill of the bust~) than his potential to do good. What we don’t yet see, initially, though— and what it takes a great deal of trauma to reveal to Hank— is how his masculine arrogance, his obsession with himself, is also hurtful to himself.
Over the course of the first 2 and a half seasons, Hank experiences several traumatic incidents of witnessing and inflicting violent injury and death. First, Hank kills Tuco in a shoot out. Then he witnesses the tortoise explosion in El Paso. And he reacts to this trauma by engaging in increasingly reckless violent behavior— starting with bar fights, and ending with his brutal beating of Jesse.
Why does Hank react in this way? I believe it’s because, up until his beating of Jesse, Hank’s ego prevents him from properly coping with his PTSD. Hank is shaken by the violent incidents he is involved with in the field— exhibiting clear symptoms of PTSD. He has panic attacks and insomnia and startles at loud noises. Hank interprets all this as his mind and body failing him, failing to live up to his idea of a proper man and a proper cop. To accept that he has PTSD, that he has reacted to these situations emotionally, rather than brushing these violent instances off like a Real ManTM, would be to totally shatter his image of himself. So, he doesn’t accept this. When Walt suggests Hank talk to a therapist upon returning from El Paso, Hank immediately rejects the idea, saying “[if you] start going down that road, [you can] kiss your career goodbye” (2x 08, Better Call Saul). He has so built himself up in his own mind, that he believes if he admits any weakness, he will lose everything— his job, the respect of his wife and friends, himself. He won’t confront his trauma, and he won’t confront his reaction to it, and he certainly won’t confront how his natural reaction to the trauma makes him feel (frustrated, humiliated).
So he turns the anger and frustration he has with himself and his failing mind and body outwards. He is violent and reckless. In episode 3x03, I.F.T, Hank has a panic attack in a bar bathroom, from thinking about the possibility of being sent back to El Paso. And then he proceeds to pick a fight with two other patrons, under the guise of DEA business, but clearly actually because he needs to outlet his rage and panic. And Hank’s reaction is even worse when he believes Marie has been hurt (after Saul places the false call in Sunset). He is first thrown into a panic, and then into an uncontrollable rage— leading him to brutally beat Jesse. But this turns out to be the turning point for Hank, the moment when he truly, authentically changes in response to his trauma.
Let’s focus in on the brief moment in between Hank’s beating of Jesse, and his grueling near death experience with The Twins. The crucible moment when Hank’s transformation as I have described it— his decentering of the self— begins. This moment is actually one episode, and it’s one of my favorites: 3x07, One Minute. In beating Jesse as he did— blatantly outside of the boundaries of his job, Hank realizes he has gone too far. This violence touches his personal life— he fears for Marie’s life, and reacts by beating a civilian as a civilian— and so it is harder to make excuses for it as just another part of being in the DEA. Hank knows what he did was wrong. And this is (forgive the metaphor) the Jenga piece that makes the whole pile topple. He finally admits to himself (and to Marie) that “ever since that Salamanca thing” he’s been “unraveling.” He admits that his shooting of Tuco and the El Paso incident are the reasons for his violent and wrong behavior— that they have damaged him. He finally admits that he has been traumatized, and he has reacted to it poorly.
And after admitting this, Hank does something incredible. Something unprecedented in terms of who we have seen him to be previously in the show. He admits fault, he takes responsibility, and he quits the DEA. We see Hank truly and honestly humbled— he admits to both his weaknesses and his wrongdoings, with an unparalleled level of grace and self-awareness. He starts to become a better, more honest, more responsible, less arrogant person. He even weeps openly in front of Marie. This episode is Hank’s high point of the series, in terms of integrity and strength of character.
But then, oh then, there is fresh trauma for Hank.
Hank’s violent injury at the hands of The Twins, and his grueling recovery, hammer home even harder the fears and insecurities Hank had when his trauma was just emotional. Hank’s injury brings him to his lowest point— he is bed-bound, unemployed, and needs his wife’s help to take a shit. Everything Hank was feeling before— about the failure of his mind and body to live up to his masculine ideals— comes back with a vengeance.
And this does continue to humble Hank in the positive sense I described above. I believe that the incredible detective work that Hank is able to do in seasons 4 and 5 is enabled by this increased humility. I think it’s very apt when Hank says, in One Minute, “the universe is trying to tell me something and I’m finally ready to listen.” Hank’s strokes of investigative genius — first those that lead him to Gus Fring, and then the pivotal revelation that Walt is Heisenberg— could well be described as him simply listening to the universe, in a way he wasn’t ready to before. Gus had primed the DEA to never suspect him with his cop-loving act, but Hank was able to get outside of that bias and make that mental leap when all the other officers refused to believe it. He listened to what the evidence told him. And, though you could argue that Hank finding Gale’s book in Walt’s bathroom was purely random, I think Hank’s willingness to even consider Walt as a potential Heisenberg (let alone to extrapolate that possibility from a set of initials and a visually identified handwriting match on a random book) shows significant growth. There are countless moments before that in the series of incredible dramatic irony, where the idea of Walt as a drug dealer would occur to Hank, and he would immediately dismiss them as ludicrous. Because, of course, if Walt were a criminal, Hank would have to be an idiot to have been fooled by him for so long. There was a barrier of ego that was keeping Hank from considering that possibility. And only when it was removed, was Hank ready to listen to what the universe revealed to him.
But, the effects of Hank’s injury on him are not all positive.
Hank is brought SO low, and is SO humbled by his injury, that it moves to the point of humiliation. And he reacts to this by turning his attention away from himself and towards his fanatic obsessions. He decenters himself, by centering his whole life on something else. First there are, of course, his minerals. Then, he becomes obsessed with taking down Gus Fring. Then, finally, he becomes obsessed with taking down Walt.
This fanaticism is bad for Hank. His fanatic obsession with minerals almost destroys his marriage. His legally dubious pursuit of Gus Fring threatens his fragile career (and, unbenknownst to him, puts him on Gus’s hit list). And his fanatic pursuit of Walt eventually leads to his death. This fanaticism goes so wrong for Hank because, I would argue, fanatic external obsession ignores the self, where true humility accepts the self in all its flaws. Think back to Hank’s humble behavior following his beating of Jesse. Hank actually thought a lot about himself— he analyzed the patterns of behavior he’d had since his encounter with Tuco, admitted to his weaknesses, and took responsibility for his actions. He deflated his ego by taking a look at himself honestly, rather than by refusing to look at himself at all. But, after his injury, this is just what Hank does— refuses to examine himself, instead spending all his energy on something else. And that turns out to be Hank’s fatal flaw.
If Hank had examined himself instead of buying so many minerals, he would have seen he was ashamed of his physical disability and was taking that anger out on his wife. And he could have rectified that much sooner. If Hank had examined himself instead of relentlessly investigating Gus Fring, he would have seen that he was going back to the same type of crooked police work that he previously realized he was doing and quit the force because of. And he could have conducted his investigation more safely and ethically. If Hank had examined himself instead of fanatically pursuing Walt, he would have seen that he was furious with himself for failing to see Walt was Heisenberg sooner, and felt a need to redeem himself. And then maybe he would have been humble enough to ask for help from other DEA agents instead of going it on his own. And maybe, he would have survived.
Ironically, Hank’s attempts to think less about himself and his problems, actually ended up letting those problems rule his life.
Hank’s story is, in the end, a tragedy. We see the kind of positive growth Hank is capable of. His reaction to his trauma— the way he uses it to become a better person, husband, and detective— is often inspiring. By season 5, because of this growth, Hank arguably becomes the hero of the show. But, painfully, he isn’t able to grow quite enough. His ego remains involved in his detective work— though this time in the opposite direction (he frantically tries to ignore himself, rather than inflating himself, but this ends up involving him too much in his work nonetheless). And this, among the various sins of other characters, leads to Hank’s death. Which is so painful to see, because we know what Hank was capable of in terms of self-reflection, growth, and integrity. We know what he fell short of.
#breaking bad#brba#hank schrader#hank#brba analysis#brba meta#trauma post series#y’all...#i fuckin love hank schrader#im so sad he’s dead#rewatching One Minute repeatedly to write this post CHANGED ME#hope y’all are enjoying my dissertation
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The Drift Between Us
•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Chapter 6: The Trouble and the Verdict
•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Hank Anderson x Connor and Gavin Reed x RK900
Pacific Rim AU
Warnings: A bit more swearing than usual, some used as Verbal Antagonization
Word Count: 10,364
•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Previous <~> Masterlist <~> Next
•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Hank woke up at an ungodly hour this morning due to a nightmare again. He wonders if it’s the slight increase in social activity he’s being subjected to or if he’s just becoming less affected by the alcohol that he tries so desperately to drown unpleasant memories with. Hank has his bets on the latter, but he won’t rule out the former.
Being up this early in the morning with no desire to go back to sleep means another morning where he goes out to eat breakfast just as it opens. The only reason he doesn’t start his day drinking like he nearly did last time he was in this situation is because he still vividly remembers the pure shock on everyone’s faces. Still fucking priceless, and still worth getting his cranky ass up and at ‘em if he ain’t going back to sleep anyway.
Just like last time, when he goes out to get his food, his military-lunch-lady doesn’t hide her surprise. Hank’s a bit disappointed, though, when the other food workers don’t openly stare at him like he has a second head like they had before. That was half of the fun, messing with their heads so obviously. Now they’re just occasionally glancing at him with curious expressions while they work and cook.
He doesn’t know if it’ll be worth it to do this again within the next couple of months. A damn shame is what it is.
He sits down at his table, eating slowly because he isn’t even all that hungry– he literally only wanted to see the workers’ faces. By the time he’s done eating, an hour and a half has passed, and Hank suddenly realizes that he hasn’t seen Connor at all. He glances around, looking for any other trainees, and he finds the group Connor’s twin (he already forgot his name again, shit) always hangs around at, but neither brother is there. Something strange settles in his gut and he doesn’t like it one single bit.
Hank gets up and puts his tray away, forcing himself to stop thinking about it. It doesn’t work very well at all because he’s almost instantly imagining Connor having another “mood dip”, as what’s-his-face called it. Maybe he’s just taking care of Connor or something–
Worry.
This feeling in his gut is worry.
Oh fuck no. Nope. Not happening. Not fuckin’ today, not fuckin’ ever.
Hank promptly shoves every single thought of the twins out of his head and forces himself to take stock of what he has to drink and munch on in his room on his way back to his safe space. It’s a good thing he does because he realizes he’s starting to run low on pretty much everything except protein bars and water bottles. He’s going to need to get more alcohol very soon, but fucking Fowler has been watching him closely recently. Apparently a guy can’t shower and get up early one time before his friend (are they even still friends? Or are they old friends now?) thinks he’s trying to work at getting better.
God, it’s not like Hank’s super popular down here, either. It was already difficult enough filling his stash, and now it’s just going to be a right pain in the ass. See, this is why he didn’t mind Connor. The trainee saw what a fucking catastrophe he was and didn’t do shit about it. He just let Hank be after that bottle cleaning incident, the same incident that led him to impulsively recycle all of the old bottles and throw his laundry into a large pile in the corner of the room.
Wait, he’s not supposed to be thinking about him right now. Fuck you, brain.
Well, there’s still Arnold, he guesses. He’s never given a shit about what Fowler or anyone else says. Honestly, Hank’s surprised that asshole still has his job. The thing is, though, Arnold can’t keep a secret for shit. Everyone and their uncles would know how low he stooped just to get some alcohol in his bunker. There’s also Vanessa. She’s a charming gal, but he’s not confident she would help him–
Is that Connor sitting next to my door?
“Connor?”
The trainee’s head snaps up from where it was tucked into his knees. He’s curled up on the ground to the right of his door, his arms squeezing his knees to his chest. A closer look shows that Connor’s eyes are bloodshot, and Hank would almost think he’s high right now if he didn’t know any better, but he does. He also sees the dark bags under his eyes. Christ, has this guy slept at all in the past week?
Hank suddenly remembers thinking about if he was having a mood dip, and wonders if that’s what’s happening right now. He seemed fine enough yesterday at lunch, though, but he wasn’t there for dinner…
“Good morning, Mr. Anderson.” He gets up to his feet, and the new position shows off how rumpled his training clothes look. He’s never seen Connor rumpled without seeing bandages. It’s kind of unsettling. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I was kind of hoping I could get one of your snacks you mentioned having a while ago? I’d owe you a favor in return.” he wrings his hands together.
“Yeah.” Hank doesn’t think, he just answers. “Yeah sure. C’mon in. You look like you need it more than I do, and that’s sayin’ somethin’.”
He quickly opens his door, and Connor shuffles in after him. Hank doesn’t think he’s ever seen him shuffle before, he abruptly notices. He doesn’t say anything about it, being acutely aware of how it feels to be in that position, and starts digging through the top drawer in his desk for one of the chocolate protein bars. He remembers Connor loving the brownies at lunch, and Hank prefers the peanut butter ones anyway.
“Thank you very much for doing this. Ritch wanted me to eat something this morning, but I don’t think I can stomach a breakfast like he wants me to. And I’m sorry for sitting in front of your door, I was still trying to decide if I should ask you to part with some of your stash...” A pause. “You cleaned.”
That comment immediately puts Hank on edge. He pauses from digging around for a moment and turns his head just enough to see Connor’s reaction. He has a tiny, tired smile on his face, and Hank doesn’t know how to feel about that.
“Yeah? And what of it?” he grumbles defensively.
The other hums, “I’m just glad there’s no chance of you stepping on a bottle and hurting yourself anymore, is all.”
God damn it, he looked so genuine as he said that.
He’s used to the stupid “Congratulations, you’re not hopeless!” talks that he got so often a few years back. “You cleaned your room! Yay!” “I’m glad you showered!” “Hank, did you shave? That’s good!” “Woah, you’re up early! I’m happy you’re better today.” All of these types of things he’s completely used to. They’re all wishes and quiet hopes that he’s finally getting better and going back to normal, when he isn’t and probably never will.
He is absolutely not used to hearing “Now you probably won’t accidentally hurt yourself because your room is sort of kinda clean!” Wasn’t that Connor’s excuse for cleaning up his shit last time he was in here? He didn’t want Hank to get hurt by tripping or shattering a bottle or something?
He truly doesn’t know how to react, so he simply grunts an acknowledgement and gets back to his search, hoping his pause wasn’t too noticeable. Hank finds what he’s looking for and turns around. He hands two protein bars to Connor, who takes them with the expression of someone who doesn’t want to eat even this much.
Hank, against his better judgement, decides to prod a bit. He won’t force the kid to talk, but something must have happened if he looks this offended by food, and besides, Hank has always been known for being a bit nosy at times. It’s been his excuse for as long as he’s been getting into other people’s businesses or strange situations.
“Did you see something that made you lose your appetite in one of those slides they show you new comers?”
He remembers not wanting to eat for a day or two after seeing those gory pictures. Some were of Kaijus that had been torn apart, blue coated guts just lying in the middle of mass destruction, others of what remained of people who were completely smashed under collapsed buildings. He hates that he’s seen both of those scenes in person now, too.
Connor seems a bit confused before realization hits, “Oh! No. Those aren’t anything I haven’t studied in detail before–” What the hell kind of things did his trainer have him studying, then? “–so they didn’t bother me. Actually, uh… We were, um, caught lying on our evaluation exams two days ago.”
“You cheated on the single thing that measures your entire worth around here? Are you fucking insane, Connor!?”
Connor’s gaze snaps up to him from the floor, “No. We did not cheat, we lied. We know a lot more than I think we’re supposed to at this stage of training, and we don’t want to graduate early, so we purposefully marked questions wrong on the written evaluation and held back during the physical ones.” His gaze goes distant like it was before, and he drops down to sit on Hank’s bed. “I thought we were in the clear, but I guess we must’ve slipped at some point because we had to talk to Marshal Fowler about it.”
Hank knows better than to force someone with that distant look in their eyes to get up and do anything, so if he needs to carry on the conversation to let Connor settle for a moment, so be it. If Hank is secretly curious about why and how he and Ritch (That’s what his name was! He knew he knew it!) lied on the evaluations and almost got away with it, so be it.
“Why the hell would you not wanna graduate early? Do you even understand how amazing that looks on records?”
“I–” Connor blinks a few times, the glazed look on his face gradually dissipating. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter anymore. The entire thing is out of our hands, now.” He stands up with perfect posture. “We’ll reap what we sowed, and if worse comes to worst we can still be bodyguards or something of the like, just as Ritch said. Ten years of combat training has to mean something, right?”
Connor meets his eyes. “I feel more relaxed now, oddly enough. I suppose I just had to get that off of my chest. Thank you very much for the protein bars and for listening to me complain about my own decisions. If there’s anything you think I can do for you before I likely leave, don’t hesitate to ask.” he finishes with a small smile.
Part of Hank really wants to say that he wasn’t exactly complaining about his decisions, he was just stressing about the consequences that he was smart enough to realize he had. Another tiny part of him wanted to ask the trainee for booze as repayment, but there’s no way in hell he’s doing that. Yet another part wanted to remind Connor that he also gave him the blanket and stress ball, but he knows the trainee’s thankful for that, and Hank isn’t going to go out of his way to be an asshole like that. Instead, he tries to actually use his head for once and does something stupid, against his own judgement.
He tries to comfort him.
“Don’t worry about it. Fowler’s a pretty understandable guy, and you two are smart people. Whatever reason you had for underplaying your skills must’ve been a damn good one because you’re not stupid. And he’ll see that, too, if he doesn’t already. I mean, he lets my useless ass bum around here, so…” he trails off.
“Let’s hope so. But, again, I don’t think you’re as useless as you seem to have convinced yourself you are.” He turns and heads to the door as he talks over his shoulder, “Whatever may happen to me, I hope you remember that you aren’t as terrible as you keep trying to make yourself out to be. Brains are just stupid like that, I of all people should know that, at least.” He opens the door, looking back at Hank with a soft smile, “Thank you again, for everything.” And he’s gone.
It takes Hank at least a minute, if not longer, to finally have his first clear thought in the silent chaos his head has suddenly become.
He still doesn’t like how Connor seems to understand him better than any of the therapists assigned to him did.
Hank once again can’t decide if he should be disappointed in his old therapists, somewhat proud of Connor for being aware as all hell, or let himself be worried for the trainee (he kind of already is, though, isn’t he?). He’s leaning towards the first option, with a healthy dosage of the third. He knew his therapists were shit for him. That’s the main reason he started drinking all the time; they never really worked for him. He also knows that Connor has some mental issues of his own that he’s slowly working through, but when his mind tries to connect the guy who seems in tune with how Hank’s feeling most of the time with someone who hasn’t even turned 25 yet, it just doesn’t work. Error 404, connection can not be found.
Hank suddenly remembers why he didn’t put on his mean act around Connor; he saw some of himself in the trainee. At the time, he was pretty pretty he was just self-projecting, but as time is passing, it’s becoming more and more clear that this is just how the young man is.
Wait a minute, back the hell up.
Connor mentioned ten years of combat training. He’s pretty sure he knew about the twins having several years of training before they got here, but an entire decade dedicated to combat? Fucking hell, when will this kid stop surprising him? Apparently Connor was right during that first day he sat at Hank’s table; he really isn’t a kid anymore, huh? Hank always knew he had a rough and extremely censored childhood, what with the complete lack of common life knowledge and shit. Ten whole fucking years, though? Why the hell wouldn’t they just test out of the training segment altogether? They’re partners, aren’t they?
…Unless they’re not.
Every time he’s seen those two in the same room– which is admittedly not very often– they’ve either been silent, tense, or arguing. While Hank can see that they’re probably trying their best for one another, he can tell that it probably doesn’t seem like that’s the case from their perspective. It’d be like the other is constantly pushing back, and the only time they’re not is when some kind of mess that affects both of them is being dealt with or they’re being silent.
Hank wonders if that’s what people saw when his friendship with Jeff started going downhill. He has a sinking feeling that it probably is.
Jesus, if that’s even partially the case, then no wonder why they don’t want to graduate early and be forced to work together.
Now, the next question is does Hank want to have a small chat with Jeff about the lying situation? The marshal should have known about all of this before it became a problem, after all. Connor and Ritch definitely don’t seem like the type of people who would try to lie about something important like this before trying to get it cleared up altogether first.
No, he shouldn’t meddle. They can handle themselves just fine.
He groans and rubs his face with his hands. He should stop inviting Connor into his room to grab things. It always leads to a lot of thinking and some kind of big ass realization. It’s exhausting.
•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Gavin is finally on his way back to his room from breakfast. During the entire meal, Tina wouldn’t stop grilling him about RItch again. He gets it, he really, truly does. He knows what it looks like for a guy who has exactly one friend to suddenly start insulting another guy then get insulted back without there being any real heat or anger. To everyone else, it looks like he made a new friend or possibly something more (“Slut Gavin” has officially made a reappearance, just as he predicted, and he wants to ram everybody’s head into a wall. He’s never been anything less than modest with anyone except two people.), even though this is far from the case.
Right?
Yes, definitely. Even if he did want some kind of friend, they aren’t created through insults. People just need to learn how to shut the fuck up or find something else to ramble on about.
Therefore, he purposely takes the longer way to his room that brings him closer to the training quarters in some secret wish that Ritch will pop around the corner and they’ll have another go so he can blow off some steam. Gavin actually ended up taking Ritch’s advice and briefly brainstormed some “fancier” insults last night when he couldn’t sleep, mainly so he could blame the internet when they end up not meeting his standards anyway. Ritch better be fucking thankful because doing that was kind of embarrassing, since he’s known for being a natural asshole–
“ALEX!!”
Gavin freezes and his senses go on high alert. That was Luther who just yelled. The same Luther that everyone is convinced has a vocal problem that prevents him from speaking louder than an acceptable indoor volume and a chemical imbalance that keeps him from ever getting angry. The same Luther that never once yelled at Gavin during training, despite the larger man being in the last steps of his apprenticeship at the time and had full authority to.
What the fucking hell did Alex do to piss off Luther of all people?
Gavin sets off to the training room. Once upon a time he would have tried to convince himself that he was just wanting to be a nosy asshole and get into people’s business, but he has no problem admitting nowadays that he’s genuinely concerned and wants to see if urgent help is needed.
Gavin rounds a corner and enters the hall that connects with the training area. He starts hearing people swearing and telling someone (presumably Alex) to just leave, and then hears that fucking idiot start trying to pick a fight with Luther. Gavin pokes his head in, immediately scanning the room.
Luther looks like he’s about to spontaneously combust with rage right there in the center of the room, and that scares the shit out of Gavin. He has never once seen the large man genuinely mad, let alone ready to rip someone to pieces like he does now. This Alex character suddenly barks out that he could throw Luther down, despite being less than half of the instructor’s size. What a fucking moron.
After a closer look, Gavin realizes that Alex was the dude that couldn’t even take one passing insult from him. That one jackass with Ritch in the hall on that second day of training season. He steps in quickly so the other fuck-tards don’t escalate things even more.
That’s the thing about someone always starting fights, if that person’s smart, they also get oddly good at calming things down. Gavin just so happens to be one of the smart ones for whatever reason.
“I was taking the long way back to my room when I heard someone shouting swears around here?” Explosion kid turns to him and– oh shit, he has a big ass knife, and Gavin knows for a fucking fact that trainees aren’t allowed to have any kind of weapon, but he steps inside the room casually as if he hasn’t noticed it. “That’s kind of my area of expertise, you know? And, like, how the fuck did you manage to get gentle giant over here mad? Not even I could do that and pissing people off is literally my entire personality.”
“Gavin,” Luther says calmly, the terrifying kind of calm that makes him hesitate, “We don’t need you right now.”
Gavin raises his eyebrows and turns so he can look at Luther while keeping Alex in his peripheral. He tilts his head the slightest when the other man’s jaw clenches at his movement. He flicks his eyes over to Alex and back to Luther, trying to convey that for the first time in a long while, he doesn’t want to stir things up more, that he actually wants to help this time.
“You sure about that?” Gavin asks softly, genuinely.
He’s glad that Luther’s features loosen a bit, losing that edge of murder. He’s the only one who seems to understand that Gavin doesn’t always want to make people’s lives miserable. He understands how troublemakers like this one work and he knows how to handle himself well enough to not lose in a potential fight, or at least enough to be able to stall until the real help can arrive. Luther starts stepping back to the room’s intercom, probably to contact Fowler about this. A knife of that kind and size doesn’t even belong in this base, let alone in a trainee’s hands.
“This ain’t any of your business, cocksucker. Why don’t you just go off and play with your boy toy, huh?” explosion kid calls out, and Luther looks about ready to kill again.
“Ah, so you’ve caught on to the fake ‘Slut Gavin’ rumors.” he turns to Alex quickly, “Why am I not surprised?”
“This is the same guy who picked a fight with you in front of Fowler’s official office,” a very familiar, teasing voice calls out from his left. “but I wouldn’t expect you to remember that with how many people you quite literally bump into. Can you even handle a situation like this without losing your own temper? I promise to not say ‘I told you so’ if you can’t.” Gavin can see the slight bit of mirth in his eyes, even if he isn’t smirking like he has a few times before.
At least five people hiss “Ritch” quietly. Apparently this is out of character for the guy. Gavin feels almost proud of himself.
Gavin fixes him with a glare the other has already received from him multiple times, “Watch me, dick. I’m about to show you a prim and proper end to this shitshow like no one ain’t ever seen before.”
“I’ve already said my name is not Richard, but go right on ahead and try.” Ritch says, cocky.
Gavin turns his attention over to Alex the Asshole, shutting him up before he can speak with one of his real glares. He starts walking up to him in the center of the room, ignoring Luther’s warning look. He’ll take care of this without blood, even if it’s just to wipe that smug-ass look on Dickie’s face.
“That your boy toy? I thought you would do better than that.”
Deep breaths, just like you were taught, Gavin reminds himself. You’re way better than this piece of shit, you’re about to save the day, and you can’t let RoboRitch win this time. Deep breaths.
“Alright,” he begins once he’s three steps away from Alex, “you heard literally everyone in this room. Come on out with me or else you’re gonna have an even worse day, ‘cause unlike Luther and friends here, I ain’t afraid of breaking some rules, and I ain’t afraid of gettin’ Fowler up in here. I’m just fuckin’ lazy right now.”
“How about I fucking throw you down and when I win you’ll see that this was all a mistake and I’m gonna be needed on the future team?” he spits in Gavin’s direction, but it missed him completely and hits the floor. He doesn’t miss how he also slightly readjusts his grip on the knife, likely preparing to strike.
Gavin loudly barks laugh. “Holy shit–” he wheezes. “You actually think–” he takes a deep breath,. “You actually think you could throw me down? My job is literally taking down huge alien monsters while strapped in a giant metal chamber, a trainee with a knife or two ain’t enough to scare me or take me down.” He relaxes his stance to continue his act of nonchalance. “Now put that knife down and let’s get outta here. Don’t make this worse for yourself.”
Alex grips the knife harder, just as Gavin expected. “You say you can take me on with the knife, but then tell me to drop it? Maybe you’re just a fuckin’ coward? Ever think of that?! Why don’t you fight me like a man?!”
“Jesus fucking christ. I don’t think I’ve used that one since middle school, and a certain someone–” he pointedly looks at Ritch, “–loves to remind me that I’m the king of childish insults.” He then turns to where Luther is still back by the room’s intercom, watching the whole event carefully. “Was I this bad during training, Luther? You were an apprentice back then, weren’t you? I swear to god I took a hint better than this asshole.”
Luther, shockingly, nods his head. “You did take a hint, and you also knew when to finally leave, and when to stop if it was getting serious.”
Gavin hears Alex suddenly shift closer to him, so Gavin quickly readies himself for action, not wanting to risk getting stabbed or sliced. Alex threateningly raises his knife up (not that he could do any serious, lasting damage holding it like that) and Gavin grabs his wrist and twists, forcing him to drop it. He kicks the blade away then lets go, and while Alex is still recollecting himself, the pilot uses the side of his hands to hit the pressure points on the other’s neck. He goes down like a bag of bricks. He stays down just long enough for Gavin to quickly search him, confiscate a blade tucked into his boot, and tie his hands together with a zip tie Luther tosses to him.
Gavin takes in the shocked silence with a self-satisfied smirk as he snatches up the two knives, finding both the quiet and the full name written on this knife plenty reward enough for dealing with all of this. Alex starts properly waking up from the little stun move, so Gavin’s not worried about him having any lingering effects from being knocked out. He’s officially in the clear and can’t be blamed for anything, for once.
Ritch suddenly starts speaking. “Just as I thought. You can’t do anything calmly.”
Gavin blinks hard, then spins his body with a step back to fully face the human-robot with a glare, the whole movement purposely exuding over-the-top “I’m white and offended” vibes. Ritch still doesn’t have a real smile on his face, but Gavin can see the signs of his lips quirking up at the corners and he still has that same amusement in his eye as when they’re passing insults in the halls. It must be Christmas day for him; a quick and easy fight that he can’t get punished for and another quick match with baby-face!
“Bitch? I told you I’d get him outta here with a prim and proper ending, and he looks damn prim and proper to me! And I didn’t even start the fight!” Gavin turns around just in time to watch Luther hoist Alex over his shoulder in a firefighter hold. The trainee isn’t even struggling anymore, thank god. “He ain’t fighting or bitchin’ now! And I didn’t see you try to do anything about this, dick.”
“I thought we already discussed that that childish insult was not my name. You really should see a doctor about your memory problems.” Ritch still doesn’t smirk, but Gavin swears he can see it clearly, anyway.
“I wasn’t implying that it was your name, I was just calling you a penis.” Gavin hears a quiet snort somewhere in the room at that one. “And it’s still not as childish as your face. Or your arms. Really dude, I’ve said this before, but eat a damn steak, a burger or something.” He starts following Luther out of the room. “I’m gonna go help carry this loaf of nothing to Fowler because I can be a responsible pilot when I want to, and you–” he points to Ritch “–are gonna thank me later. With actual words, in front of my friend.”
“In your dreams, wetland grass.”
“Fuck you.”
“I already said no thank–”
Gavin hurries out with his hands high in the air and his middle fingers even higher, “Sorry! I can’t understand dumbass-ese! Bye bitch!”
As he walks away to Fowler’s official office, as opposed to his private one, he hears Chloe telling the trainees to do their warm ups and to wait for Luther to get back before doing any training. After that, it falls silent. Gavin can only take a few minutes of it, though, before he can’t hold back the question any longer.
“So… What the hell did this guy do?” Gavin asks genuinely for once, “I’ve never once seen you get angry, let alone blow up like that. This isn’t even the first time a student pulled a knife on someone else.” He turns to look up at Luther, who’s looking at him with suspicion, “I wasn’t lying when I said I was just taking the long route to my room and just happened to hear the commotion.”
Luther looks away contemplatively for a few moments, then apparently decides to spill the beans.
“He almost stabbed two of the other trainees. You took his second and third knives, and they were the least damaging ones. The other two he had were already confiscated by me.”
Gavin completely freezes. He can’t be fucking serious. Gavin is very suddenly very close to exploding and punching a wall with his bad hand, so he starts double-timing it to the office.
“Are you shitting me? I haven’t even seen a knife this damn good since my high school years, and if it weren’t for the evidence written on this thing I’d hide it in my stash! Shit, how the hell did he get four of them?!”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know who did the inspections? When they were done last? I swear to fucking god I am going to–”
“You are going to do nothing, Gavin.”
He balks, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“You’re going to come with me to see Fowler, we are going to get this sorted out, then he and whoever he got this from will be gone, and you won’t worry about this.”
“How the fucking hell and I supposed to just not worry about this?!” Gavin shouts, getting the attention of two deliverers, so he hushes his tone into something quieter by just as deadly, “I already have personal beef with these guys so I don’t mind–”
“Gavin please.” Luther rubs his free hand over his face and massages just over eyebrow, a place Gavin knows where headaches commonly form for him. “You having beef with these people is exactly why you should not get involved in this.”
Silence falls between them again. Gavin breaks it again using a calm, hushed tone.
“I wasn’t actually this bad, right? Like, I know I wasn’t swinging knives around, but you weren’t just saying that to make sure I didn’t blow up in there, were you?”
He hates the fact that Luther hesitates to answer for a second or two.
“You may have always been a jerk, and you may have been much more of a jerk than ever during your first few weeks here, but you’ve always known when poking the bear turned into wrestling with it, and you always knew better than to wrestle.” Luther turns to him, “As much as you apparently hate being called a decent person, you’ve always been fiercely protective of those you really care about.” He faces forward again.
Gavin doesn’t know what to say to that. It’s not that he hates being called a good person, it’s just that he’s always been called a menace, an asshole, an inconvenience by those who were polite and worse things from people who aren’t, but he can’t remember a single time anyone had anything genuinely nice to say to him without some kind of ulterior motive in play. Not since his partner, anyway.
God, he fucking misses him. He was the only person who understood him, and then he–
No. Not now.
“Gavin?”
Gavin startles out of his thoughts at the sound of Luther’s voice. He readjusts Alex’s body on his shoulder before looking at the tall man.
“You okay?” Luther asks, genuine concern in his expression. He’s holding the door open to the office area, waiting for Gavin to step through.
He shakes his head to help get himself out of this funk he’s in, “Never better. Let’s go put this guy in the ground, and try to keep me out of it.” He steps inside. “Hey, you’ll have my back, right big guy? I mean, I know I knocked him out there for a minute, but it’s better and more realistic than whatever alternative anyone else was trying to think up.”
Luther sighs and nods his head, “Yes, I planned on vouching for you. Just don’t say anything stupid or incriminating. Marshal Fowler has been in a prickly mood for the past few days, and I’d rather not have you testing him. Again.”
“I’ll try my best, but I’m not gonna make any promises.” Luther gives him a sharp look. “It all depends on what I’m going to hear about this kid and how much it’s going to piss me off.”
Another sigh to Gavin’s right, but Luther doesn’t say anything this time.
They walk into Fowler’s office without knocking, and all the rest of the process goes by rather quickly. They filed out the reasons why Alex is being dishonorably dismissed with Gavin acting as a witness, then he recites the full names of the likely owners of the knives. He’s sent on his way not long after that, since Luther and Fowler need to talk about some lying dipshits or something. He doesn’t actually care all that much. As he turns the corner in the hall to finally get to his room, he almost literally runs into someone.
“Watch where you’re fuckin– Anderson?”
The ex-pilot grunts and rolls his eyes in lieu of a greeting.
Gavin steps aside as the old drunkard walks to the office areas. “The hell are you doing here? And up this early too.”
“I’m goin’ to talk to Fowler, just fuck off.” he grumbles over his shoulder.
“Fowler’s busy talkin’ to Luther about some lyin’ scum right now, so he ain’t free.”
Hank stops, “Those two liars aren’t even close to scum, and they’re exactly what I want to talk to him about.” He doesn’t say anything else as he hurries through the door, and slams it shut behind him.
Gavin knows something’s up. Hank doesn’t think highly of anyone, let alone people who apparently lie on important documents. That’s what all this has to be about, after all, because that’s the only kind of lying Fowler handles himself like this. That, and he hasn’t seen Anderson hurry anywhere in years, especially not for any kind of living being, especially humans.
As curious as Gavin is, he knows when it’s not any of his business, and when looking into things will only bring more trouble than it’s worth. The other thing is that Gavin doesn’t usually give a single flying fuck, and he’s pretty that’s why sure his disciplinary folder is one of the thickest ones in this joint.
The grand point of all of this is that Gavin really doesn’t want to tango through the lying case, but if anyone thinks he’s not gonna have a part in taking care of this knife business, they’re very wrong. People like that cover up their tracks well enough that they’ll get away with it, even if everyone knows it’s them. Plus, Fowler probably wouldn’t find much to begin with since he’s busy a lot of the time. Gavin is almost excited to finally have a reason to come after them.
•◊•◊•◊•◊•
It’s a few days after the Alex commotion, and Connor’s normally silent dinner is interrupted by an unfamiliar man in a suit. It’s strange and jarring to see because the only kind of uniforms around here are boots, cargo pants, and plain t-shirts with the occasional jacket with the PPDC symbol on the right sleeve. The stranger calmly walks up to Connor and simply asks him to finish his meal quickly and meet Marshal Fowler in his main office, then walks away towards where Ritch is sitting without any explanation.
He looks at Hank, wondering if he has ever had this kind of treatment, or if this is exactly what Connor thinks it is. Hank just sends him a confused glance from where he sits diagonal of him (Connor has slowly been scooting closer to him in hopes that one day they can sit across from each other in a charade of actually being social, and it seems to be working so far). That means it’s what he thinks it is, and today is the day that they get sent out of training.
He’s already done research on what kind of careers he and Ritch can get into after this whole mess, and there were plenty as long as they have the connections. The only problem is, once Amanda hears about them getting kicked out, all of their contacts will be gone instantly. They’re going to have to start at the very bottom and work their way up, which could take years before they get a realistically livable wage, and that’s if they live near the kaiju warning areas. It sucks, but Connor is just one step away from accepting this as his fate, that final step being actually hearing the verdict come out of Fowler’s mouth.
He doesn’t finish his food. He just sits there and stares at what he did manage to get down before the man in the suit came along. He glances over every now and then to see when Ritch gets up so he can follow him. The moment Connor sees his twin placing his dishes in their respective bins, he gets up as well. He says his routine goodbye to Hank, who surprisingly wishes him luck in a low tone, and puts his own food and utensils in their assigned bin as well.
“Are you ready?” Ritch says behind him. Connor can almost feel his silent judgement for not eating enough. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t mention it.
“As I’ll ever be,” he wrings his hands together, “You?”
“Quite the same. Come along.” Ritch using his polite, “fancy gathering” voice like he is now never means anything good.
Ah, apparently that’s all that was needed in order to reach that final step of acceptance. Huh.
“I’m sure you know already, but I’ve been doing research on exactly which jobs we’ll be eligible for once we are sent out, and the selection actually isn’t–”
“It is not certain that we are being dismissed.” Ritch interrupts, “I thought I told you this already.”
Connor huffs, “It never hurts to be prepared.”
“I suppose not, but call me optimistic that we’ll be staying here.” He looks to Connor without turning his head, “If they have any brains at all, they’ll want us here. We are smarter and stronger than we made ourselves out to be, and came clean as soon as we knew we were caught. They know we only did this because we were forced to and they didn’t listen when we tried to tell them the first time.” He focuses his eyes forward again, “I do not think we’ll be dismissed. At least not today.”
Connor suddenly has the feeling that Ritch is saying this more for himself than anyone else. It didn’t even occur to him that his twin would be bothered by this. After all, he was the one dragged into this, and he has repeatedly stated that this was Connor’s dream and not his own. Well, that and Ritch doesn’t really care about change as much because he’s extremely adaptable. They both are, but Connor has never been able to stop himself from getting attached to certain things. It’s just how he functions.
The rest of the walk to Marshal Fowler’s office is spent in silence and with that man in the suit attempting to trail behind them. Connor gives him points for effort, and he’s sure Ritch does too, but he has a feeling that he’s not the only one logging all of his mistakes so they don’t make the same ones.
Inside the office area– which is not just Marshal Fowler’s office and a waiting room like the other one, but is instead a large room that has plenty of desks for many people– no one pays them or the suited man a distance behind them any mind. As Connor casually turns his head to look around the office, he sees the guy in the suit take a left as they keep going straight to the glass door. Ritch knocks, then opens the door for Connor, who then shuts it behind himself. They’re met with four people in the room; Marshal Fowler, Luther, Chloe, and an older lady they don’t recognize.
He glances over at Ritch, who then does the same. He can tell that Ritch has finally accepted that they’re not going to be staying here past tomorrow morning, if even that.
“Good evening Connor, Ritch.” the marshal greets politely.
“Good evening.” they chorus together.
“I hope you don’t mind waiting a minute for our fifth member, he hasn’t returned from getting you quite yet.”
“Oh, the man following us?” Ritch blurts. It startles Connor because he’s never seen him blurt things out before, even before training. It’s always himself that does that and it’s never on purpose.
At the unfamiliar woman’s raised brow, Connor tries to salvage what he can. “He was taking corners too soon after we had, and his shoes would click on the metal, rather than clang against it like everyone else’s boots. Those are the only reasons why we know.”
“Well, no, those aren’t the only reasons we know, but those were the main reasons.”
Connor sends Ritch a look that easily translates to what the hell are you doing? Although, his brother doesn’t spare him a glance.
“I see, and you know the tells of this? You’re used to being followed, perhaps?” the woman asks in a way that seems like she’s trying to get dirt on them for a crime.
“No ma’am,” Ritch says before Connor can get anything in, “We’ve just been highly trained. I doubt many things could sneak up on us.”
Connor lightly smacks him on the thigh with his hand. Just what the hell is he thinking? What is he hoping to accomplish with this antagonization?
Suit guy walks through the door before anything else can happen, thank goodness. He looks to Chloe and Luther and finds them hiding smiles. Connor doesn’t have a clue of where this is going, now. Why would they be hiding smiles? Chloe and Luther always had their backs, right? Unless this whole ordeal put them against him and Ritch… Damn it, he just doesn’t know and it’s making him uneasy. People are so confusing and complicated.
The man in the suit entering the office pulls Connor from his thoughts.
“The marshal was right,” Chloe states, now properly revealing her smile, “They both knew you were trailing them.”
“Damn, really? You must have some serious training under your belt!” the man smiles, and all of it is overplayed. Connor wonders where the man would rather be right now. “How old did you say you were, again?”
He never offered his age, but he decides against saying as much. “23 as of two days ago, sir.”
“23?” the older woman says, “Both of you?”
“Yes ma’am.” Ritch responds respectfully, if not a tad sharp.
“And how long have you trained?” suit man asks, “Marshal Fowler said that you were in training for eleven years?”
Connor hates this, so he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t want to accidentally screw both of them over with his fat, dumb mouth. Thankfully, Ritch doesn’t wait too long to respond and seems to have gotten out of his rebellious mood.
“Almost, sir.”
“That means you started training at thirteen?”
“Just about, sir, if I remember correctly.” Ritch doesn’t like this as well. He can tell by his tone, but he doubts the other adults in the room notice anything off.
“May I ask why we’re here?” Connor asks cautiously, but he’s ignored.
“What kinds of things were you guys doing?” suit-man asks, sitting on the desk. He doesn’t see Marshal Fowler’s glare at the movement.
For a long few moments, Ritch doesn’t say anything, so Connor does.
“We were training mainly in combat and first aid–”
“No,” the older woman interrupts, “What he means is, what did you guys do under your stepmother’s care when you weren’t training?”
Connor can’t hold back a subtle face at the word “stepmother”, but he immediately knows that everyone still saw it. He hasn’t heard anyone besides his new friends and Ritch say that word in regards to Amanda. It just sounds… wrong coming out of anyone else’s mouth, as opposed to “trainer” or “guardian” like other adults in the past have called her.
Ritch answers sharply, “We rested.”
A long second goes by, then the marshal speaks. “And?”
Another long, uncertain second, then Connor begins explaining. “I mean, we studied–”
“Okay,” suit-man interrupts, “How often did you two get to play games, get out of the house for vacations, and do other things like that?” Connor doesn’t like how blank his face is, and that he can’t decipher what emotions he’s hiding.
Wait… Are they trying to get dirt on Amanda? Ritch did mention that people tend to blame the parents or guardians in this type of situation. How much trouble would he get in for throwing her under the bus? For making sure he never has to go back under her care
“We played down at the nearby park occasionally.” Connor supplies.
“Yes, around once every other week for the first few months we lived there. In later years, though, we normally just studied our books–”
“Because we needed to be jaeger pilots, and we wanted to make sure we were eligible to get in.”
“You say you ‘needed’ to be jaeger pilots,” Luther starts, “Is that what you wanted, though?”
Connor doesn’t hesitate like Ritch does, “I’ve wanted to be a jaeger pilot since people tried to make Marshal Fowler and Mr. Anderson television stars for how well they were doing in this line of work. Training has been… exceptionally hard as a whole, but I still want this more than any other job I’m eligible for that also uses the skills I’ve built up over the years.” He looks to Ritch, who is still looking to the ground with a frown and his eyebrows pushed together, “I don’t want to speak for my brother, but I refuse to go into a profession that lets my combat and first aid training go to waste.” he finishes quietly.
Everyone just waits patiently for Ritch to answer after, surprisingly. Normally in interviews like this, they start asking simpler questions to urge one of them on (usually Connor, since he’s usually the one that gets tongue tied), but they still wait silently. It takes 17 seconds, Connor counts, and his brother’s expression never changes during that time or when he starts speaking.
“I originally did not particularly want to be a pilot, but I started training because Connor needed me to in order to be one. I wasn’t prepared to be separated from him, but I also didn’t want to crush his dream, and I didn’t really have any aspirations beyond just wanting to help people, either, so I basically had nothing to lose. I did not like training at all from the very start, and I don’t think I like knowing that I can easily kill someone with a single punch or jab if I really wanted to.” Ritch’s face relaxes back to normal as he raises his head to face the interrogators, “But I like it here so far. The atmosphere was a bit much to adjust to at first, but now that I’m used to the schedules and the near-constant company, it’s actually becoming pleasant. And it’s just as Connor said, at this point in my life, I’d rather pilot a jaeger with someone than do any other job I’m qualified for, and I don’t want to put my years of training to waste. So after doing a bit of research, I believe that this is the best option for me.”
“Research?” Chloe asks, “You were prepared to leave today?”
“Always be prepared for anything so nothing catches you too far off guard.” Connor quotes Amanda as Ritch simultaneously admits, “Yes. We expected it, even.”
After a beat of silence, the older woman moves along. “Marshal Fowler said that you two mostly trained on your own?”
“Yes, ma’am.” the twins say together.
Ritch elaborates, “We had instructional videos and pointers from Amanda helping us along the way–”
“But we mostly perfected our fighting style on our own and practiced against each other so our styles would perfectly compliment each other’s–”
“Because that’s what was going to make us more compatible and help our chances in becoming a pilot.”
Suit-man nods, “And you are supposed to be identical twins, yes?”
Connor sees Ritch tense up out of the corner of his eye. This is still a sensitive topic. It ends up being Luther that starts that line of questions.
“I understand that you wear boots with a slight heel due to medical reasons, but I’ve been wondering why you have a condition that Connor does not have.”
He knows that this is an easier question for Ritch. “I used to wear high heels and boots with heels around the orphanages and foster homes we were placed at while growing up. I first started wearing them when I was six and liked being taller than most people my age, but then never stopped once I realized it helped people separate Connor and myself apart. That’s also why I started wearing lighter clothes and cutting my hair shorter, while Connor prefers his hair longer in the front and continues to wear darker clothes despite Amanda’s displeasure with it.”
Connor nods his agreement.
“And the eyes? How are your eyes blue? Do you wear contacts that we haven’t been informed of?”
Connor takes over, knowing this is a tough subject for his brother, “It’s actually close to impossible for contacts to make dark eyes appear naturally silver, so…” He pauses to take a breath and figure out how to word the next part. “There is research being done on how people can permanently make their eyes lighter in color. I don’t know why this research is being done in the first place, but he was signed up for it as a part of the ‘helping people tell us apart’ thing.” He sees the older woman about to speak, but pretends that he didn’t and presses on anyway. “We have very different personalities and extremely different levels of tolerance for different things, so Amanda, Ritch, and I wanted us to be as separated as one could be from their identical twin.”
“He said you were signed up? Not that you signed up?” the older woman asks Ritch directly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you want this procedure done?” Chloe gets to the point. Everyone is staring at them more intently and it’s making Connor uncomfortable.
“Even as a minor, I had to sign my consent in order to be operated on since it is an experimental procedure.” Ritch’s tone gives away– likely only to Connor– that he’s starting to feel uneasy as well.
No one seems pleased with that answer, least of all the man in the suit. He’s the one who asks the next question.
“That doesn’t answer if you actually wanted it or not. You could have signed those papers if you felt like it was the lesser of two evils.”
Connor turns his head to fully look at Ritch, and he isn’t looking very well. His face is too stoic and his unsettling eyes (they always are to Connor at least) seem even more so now that they’re growing distant. His body’s too tense, too ready to run out of the room or fight to get out of the situation. He hasn’t seen Ritch like this in years, not since Amanda had still affected him pretty badly when she’d scold them. Connor distantly wonders if what he is feeling now is how Ritch always feels when Connor gets this way, or if he just gets annoyed like he seems to.
He decides that Ritch probably does not feel this way about Connor episodes because his brother usually has a way to get him to snap out of it. It’s somewhat frustrating because he can’t do anything for Ritch right now, not anything that wouldn’t ultimately make his condition worse or something.
It takes a minute of tense silence before everyone gives up, taking his silence as the answer it is. It’s almost creepy how they’re like a hive mind or something. He catches the older woman’s eye as she gets up and silently leaves the room. Suit gets up next and smiles in a way that screams “I’m ready to go home and relax but I can’t yet”.
“Well, I think that’s enough for us for now! Thank you so much for joining us, fellas. Hopefully this is the last time we see each other under these circumstances.” he laughs, holding out a hand for Connor to shake, which he does, “I’ll let you relax a bit here and let them tell you what the verdict is.”
He leaves, and the room is plunged into yet another silence, this time less tense. It only lasts a few moments before Ritch speaks with an unexpectedly harsh tone that has Connor blinking in shock.
“What was that?”
Marshal Fowler answers quickly, “That was us trying to find out if you were guilty of lying on important documents, or if Amanda was guilty of coercion and generally being an unfit guardian.” Connor notes that he doesn’t say “parent” at all. He definitely caught Connor’s face at the word earlier, then. “She was the one found guilty.”
“Just like that?” Connor blurts with wide eyes, “She didn’t do anything illegal–”
“Not that we know of yet,” Chloe cuts off, “She was almost found to be unfit as a single mother due to her background in training young adults for the military mixed with her overall personality and… unique view on certain things. Like how a teenager should be treated.”
“A teenager has the presence of mind that children don’t have, so they don’t need coddling and should start learning how to care for themselves.” Ritch quotes. “It seems fair to us.” Connor nods along.
Luther sighs, “That’s technically true, but not quite right.” Connor doesn’t hide confusion, and neither does Ritch, apparently. “Look, I’m going to be straight with you– you guys know I always try to be– we’re going to have to set you up with therapists if you want to stay here.”
Chloe jumps in, “We have therapists for all of the pilots and plenty of the other personnel around here, so it’s not just you personally and you would have been required to get one eventually anyway. But I don’t think you two realize how unhealthy both of your minds are right now, and I’d hate for that to get in the way of your social life and potential as a jaeger pilot.”
“I know my head is all messed up.” Connor admits softly. He sees Ritch turn his head sharply to him out of the corner of his eye., “I had to skip two days of evaluations because of a valid question some people asked me. I’m just shocked you’re allowing us to stay despite doing the two things that should get us dismissed immediately on top of the mental issues.”
Marshal Fowler’s features soften in a way that Connor didn’t know was possible for him. “Most people in this place have some kind of mental issue, and I remember that you tried to tell me on your first day here that you had to lie on your application, so you did the next best thing when I didn’t listen.”
“You’re making it sound like it’s your fault, sir.” Ritch points out.
“Yeah, well, it partially is my fault, but Amanda also shouldn’t have done what she did to you two, and you should have gotten proper help instead of ranting to Han– Anderson about it.”
Ritch’s head snaps back to Connor, obviously displeased, and Connor gets more tense than he already was because of it. He resists the urge to mess with the belt buckle loops on his pants.
“Mr. Anderson…?”
“He came and talked to us today. Said to keep you guys around, and he never speaks for anyone. Even before when we piloted together he normally just kept to himself, so the fact that he felt the need to even speak about this to me says something.”
“Mr. Anderson came and talked to you? About us?” Connor asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
It just doesn’t make sense. He’s only been a burden to the older pilot, so why would he actively try to keep them here? He thought Mr. Anderson would be relieved to have him gone, to have him out of his space and no longer taking things from him and complaining about things that can’t be helped or changed, or things that apparently could be changed.
So Hank Anderson doesn’t mind his presence too much after all. If he did, he wouldn’t have particularly cared if Connor left or not, yet he felt the need to do something about the possibility of him leaving. Connor almost decides that he doesn’t know how to feel about this, but then a sudden rush of happiness bursts inside of him.
Someone saw him at some of his lowest and most annoying points, and yet he didn’t push him away. Mr. Anderson didn’t force him out or ignore him until he got the hint and left on his own.
“Connor.” Ritch hisses, and he has a feeling that that’s not the first time he’s been called.
He blinks hard, “Sorry, I apologize. I just… I’m really surprised he said anything. I thought he’d be annoyed of me by now, that he’d be indifferent that I’m gone at best…” He shakes his head to clear any lingering thoughts, “Anyway, I’m sorry, but what were you saying before?”
Marshal Fowler laces his hands together on his desk. “I was saying– between us only– keep up whatever it is you’re doing, because he’s looking less tormented recently than he has in a long time. I don’t think he’s actually tolerated someone new being at his table for so long before, either. It’s obvious you talk to him, but does he talk to you too?”
Connor shakes his head. “Not really? I don’t really talk to him all that much either, it just sorta… happens sometimes, I guess. He asks something then I just keep going and rambling and he just doesn’t tell me to shut up. But I just– I don’t know.” he shrugs, “I just don’t think he’s as horrible and grumpy as everyone’s been trying to tell me he is. Or maybe he is and I have low standards. It’s honestly just as likely, I think.”
“I think he’s more relaxed around you than anyone else.” Ritch adds, to his surprise. “He probably wants to protect you like some kind of puppy, but you aren’t childish or stupid like most people who need protection, so you don’t end up annoying him.” He takes a breath. “Someone should get him a dog.”
Marshal Fowler laughs, actually laughs, with a little head shake and everything. Chloe and Luther seem just as surprised to see and hear it. Connor wonders if the dog thing was some kind of inside joke between him and Mr. Anderson at some point.
“Hank is a definite dog lover. Good to know even that much is still obvious.” He goes back to his serious, stoic self with no evidence the joy from before, “You both start therapist-jumping in two days to find one that’s right for you, and you’ll be redoing all of your evaluations again starting tomorrow, and you better not even fucking think about lying time, ya hear? Or I’m gonna gut you like a fish and toss you into the ocean.”
“Yes, sir!” they say together earnestly, completely unaffected by the empty threat.
Luther nods to the door, “Go on and get out of here. You’re officially without partners now, so start seriously looking in case you graduate early.”
“Yes, sir!” They repeat again with slight smiles, and they leave quickly.
They have hope here after all. They don’t have to leave and be trapped in the world on their own. They can still be pilots, and it doesn’t sound like any of this is going to be blamed on them. Thank god.
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A/N: Hey guys! I am so super glad to have this chapter out finally!! Now I know that the entire first half of this chapter seems pointless or redundant, but I promise that they’ll lead into actual plot stuff later. Now! I am falling asleep at my computer because I don’t know how to sleep at night apparently Lol. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you have a pleasant day/night!! 💕💖
#hankcon#hannor#reed900#900reed#pacific rim!au#hank x connor#gavin x rk900#dbh fanfiction#dbh fanfic#dbh series#dbh scenario#dbh au#hank anderson x connor#gavin reed x rk900#hannor fanfic#reed900 fanfiction#reed900 fanfic#hankcon fanfiction#hankcon au#hankcon fanfic#hannor au#hannor fanfiction#reed900 au#The Drift Between Us#chapter 6
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1/ In Defense of Rachel and Joey: A Thread 2/ I'm loving this "let's yell about TV plots point we hate" thing that's happening EXCEPT that it started about Rachel and Joey on Friends 3/ I am on record as being absolutely ride-or-die anti-Ross Geller, who is for my money one of television's all-time worst human men. 4/ And her brief thing with Joey was obviously intended by the writers to artificially draw out Rachel's will they/won't they with Ross. 5/ A lot of people think it was weird or that it came out of nowhere, BUT I AM HERE TO TELL YOU WHY IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ENDGAME 6/ ARGUMENT #1: Ross Never Saw Rachel As a Friend, But Joey Did. 7/ From the moment the Friends first meet Rachel, Ross immediately sees her as a romantic prospect. He's never gotten over his crush on her 8/ Joey, of course, greets her with "how YOU doin'" and Monica appropriately smacks him down for hitting on a woman on her wedding day 9/ But this is presented as Joey's standard greeting to every hot woman ever, not specific to Rachel. 10/ (We can talk about the overall attitude of men on this show to women as sexual objects another time. ) 11/ But Joey's relationship with Rachel is platonic almost right away. They have a genuine friendship. 12/ He frequently gives her dating advice. (Sometimes questionable af, but, you know. Well-intentioned.) 13/ He sets her up on dates with men he thinks she'll like. He lets her crash the set when he's filming and flirt with soap actors. 14/ Joey has a lot of problems but his supportive, protective relationship with the women friends is one of his best qualities. 15/ He genuinely loves them and wants them all to be happy and there's no jealousy in it at all. 16/ HE MAKES HER LAUGH. 17/ Okay, now contrast this with Ross, who from minute one has labeled Rachel as "his." 18/ We're always told that Ross/Rachel was a "friends to lovers" ship but WHAT IS THAT BASED ON??? WHAT FUCKING FRIENDSHIP?? 19/ He had a crush on her in high school, so he "claimed" her first, and long after they've broken up he resents every man in her life. 20/ He hides messages from men who call her when they're living together. He's endlessly threatened by the men she dates. 21/ He outright sabotages her career WE'LL BE COMING BACK TO THIS POINT because he can't get over his Mark thing. 22/ Ross literally cannot accept that Mark (or any man) could be just friends with Rachel because HE couldn't be "just friends" with Rachel. 23/ And you'll note that throughout the series it's often Joey telling Ross he doesn't OWN Rachel, while Chandler and Monica enable him. 24/ Joey is the person who most often tells Ross "dude she's not interested" when she's clearly not. The one who notices what RACHEL wants. 25/ He doesn't have all this "but he's loved her FOREVER" false nostalgia that makes them all feel like Ross has EARNED Rachel by waiting. 26/ This is why "nice guys" are often so much shadier than openly, unapologetically promiscuous guys like Joey. 27/ Joey's feelings for Rachel were born out of genuine friendship. They were roommates. SHE WAS PREGNANT. 28/ We honestly don't talk enough about how big a deal it is that Joey, the "shallow" one, falls in love with Rachel while she's pregnant. 29/ It happens the way realistically healthy relationships do: they just start spending a lot more time together. 30/ He has to LEARN to see Rachel as a romantic prospect because she's always been a friend first. Which was NEVER true for Ross. 31/ It's not until he takes her on a fake date (because she's pregnant and misses going on fancy dates) when it actually clicks. 32/ And when he tells Rachel how he feels and she turns him down, contrast that with "WE WERE ON A BREAK" 33/ He never blames her and he doesn't let it impact the rest of the group. The friendship stays intact. ROSS GELLER WHAT'S GOOD 34/ The forced cop-out ending where they get together & suddenly all the chemistry evaporates was NONSENSE. They could have made this work. 35/ If the writers had cared enough to try, there was potential there for a fantastic and genre-defying surprise twist to the show. 36/ ARGUMENT #2: Rachel Deserved Someone Who Understood Why Her Career Was Important to Her. 37/ Y'all. Y'all. It was 13 fucking years ago and I am still furious AT LEAST WEEKLY that Rachel got off that goddamn plane. 38/ Ross sabotaged her career at every turn. He was "tired of having a relationship with her answering machine." 39/ He was jealous of all her male colleagues. He FELL ASLEEP at a work event he demanded she take him to. 40/ Over and over Ross trivialized her passions, even though I would argue that Rachel's career was always her most interesting arc. 41/ Somewhere there's a way more feminist version of "Friends" about a spoiled privileged girl who's never had to work a day in her life - 42/ - going on to become a brilliant and competent executive at the top of an insanely competitive creative field, as a single mom. 43/ There are MANY things about "Friends" that don't hold up, but one surprising thing they often get right is career/money storylines. 44/ (I know. The apartments. I KNOW. Ignore the set design for a second and stick with me.) 45/ Some of the most interesting conflicts in the show are when lines are drawn among the friends about who makes more money than who. 46/ WHICH AS WE ALL KNOW IS A REALISTIC THING THAT HAPPENS IN YOUR 20's AND 30's, SOME OF THOSE PLOTS ARE SO ACCURATE IT HURTS 47/ Rachel/Joey/Phoebe are initially the broke ones, while Chandler/Monica/Ross have salaried full-time jobs (though this shifts over time) 48/ Hey does anyone remember who gives Rachel her first big break to get out of Central Perk and into the fashion industry? JOEY DID 49/ Joey knows what it feels like to be grasping for your big break. But name ONE THING Ross ever did to unselfishly help Rachel's career. 50/ It's kind of remarkable that, for the token shallow/appearance-driven character, Joey actually seems to care very little about money. 51/ So he doesn't see Rachel the big-shot fashion exec as qualitatively different from Rachel the scrappy waitress. But Ross CLEARLY does. 52/ Every step up the ladder towards career success that Rachel takes is interpreted as a step AWAY from him. It's SO. FUCKED. UP. 53/ No one in the FUCKING WORLD loves Rachel Green more than Monica Geller and yet Monica still wanted her to get on that plane for Paris. 54/ They ALL did. They GOT it. Rachel was maxed out at her old job. She'd gone as high as she could. She said so REPEATEDLY. She needed more 55/ There was nothing left for her professionally in New York, and the Paris job was her literal dream. Her friends wanted her to take it. 56/ GUESS WHO DIDN'T. FUCKING ROSS. BECAUSE IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT HIM. 57/ I have never wanted any finale retcon more than for Rachel to be allowed to go to Paris & make a brand-new life. IT PHYSICALLY PAINS ME 58/ AM I SUPPOSED TO THINK IT'S ROMANTIC THAT ROSS WENT BEHIND RACHEL'S BACK TO HER BOSS TO MAKE HIM TAKE HER BACK BECAUSE I FUCKING DON'T 59/ AM I SUPPOSED TO THINK IT'S A SIGN OF LOVE THAT HE ONLY WANTS A RACHEL WHO IS ECONOMICALLY AND PROFESSIONALLY SUBORDINATE TO HIM 60/ HARD FUCKING PASS, TYVM, SHE SHOULD HAVE GONE TO PARIS AND TAKEN SEVERAL LOVERS AND REALIZED THAT SHE OUTGREW ROSS DECADES AGO 61/ "That's all well and good, Claire," you're probably saying, after sixty tweets, "but those are just reasons why Ross is shitty ... 62/ " ...why is Joey specifically a better romantic prospect?" I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED 63/ ARGUMENT #3: Joey and Rachel Make Each Other Better, Ross and Rachel Make Each Other Worse 64/ So I already mentioned this, but it bears repeating: Joey develops feelings for Rachel while she's VISIBLY pregnant. 65/ The s1 New Year's episode (best known for Phoebe and Hank Azaria's sad goodbye) features Joey on a date with a single mom. 66/ The whole time, the kids are treated like a buzzkill. Being a mom is an obstacle to desirability. 67/ The show also makes repeated and deeply wearying jokes at the expense of fat women on the regular. SIGH. 68/ So like let's talk about what it says about how Joey has grown tf up that he realizes he's in love with his friend while she's pregnant. 69/ He happily lets Rachel and Emma move back in with him, despite how much having a baby around disrupts his lifestyle. 70/ The insanely terrible women Joey brings home, and their brief tenure in his life, is of course a 10-season running joke. 71/ But it ends after Rachel. 72/ Joey's first GF after the Rachel crush is Charlie (@aishatyler), hands-down the single greatest love interest on the show. I LOVED her. 73/ Charlie is nothing like any other woman Joey has ever dated. Falling for Rachel literally teaches Joey that he wants something more. 74/ Joey learns to love having a baby around, stops being a bad-date punchline and tries to be worthy of a way higher-class lady. 75/ And he's good for Rachel, too. Circa-Joey's-roommate Rachel is my favorite iteration of all the Rachels. 76/ SERIOUSLY THINK ABOUT HOW GREAT SHE IS. Short hair, playing the drums, eating spaghetti off the floor, watching "Cujo." What an angel. 77/ Rachel has been uptight all her life and Joey teaches her how to chill the fuck out. He brings out a sillier side of her. 78/ Meanwhile, let's discuss how few moments exist in the "Friends" canon where Ross and Rachel are EVER that chill and cute together. 79/ Everything is ALWAYS fraught. Fighting, jealousy, possessiveness, drama. Their relationship looks EXHAUSTING. 80/ And it's not just Ross, tbh (although like ... it's mostly Ross). But he makes HER worse too. She's harsher and more tightly-wound. 81/ I cannot imagine a life where forever having to live with the shadow of "we were on a break" hanging over your head is considered a win. 82/ But think about how kind and gentle they were with each other when Joey said he had feelings for Rachel and she couldn't say it back. 83/ Think about an entire lifetime of one or the other of those two conflict-resolution styles, my dudes. SERIOUSLY THINK ABOUT IT 84/ Joey: respecting Rachel's feelings. Ross: needing to win every fucking time. 85/ One of my favorite Joey/Rachel moments is when they're in Barbados for Ross' conference and he's giving his boring keynote speech. 86/ [BRIEF ASIDE TO NOTE THAT THE SINGLE SERIES-LONG PLOT POINT WHICH HAS AGED THE WORST IS THE FALSE NOTION THAT DINOSAURS ARE BORING] 87/ Joey and Rachel are giggling at "homo erectus" together (RELATABLE!), for which Ross and Charlie treat them both like massive idiots. 88/ Which is yet another sign that Ross thinks Rachel is intellectually beneath him. But Joey just thinks she's hilarious. 89/ Ross has ALWAYS treated her like she's intellectually beneath him, which is why "just a waitress" cuts so deep on that S2 list. 90/ Being Mrs. Geller is a ticket to a lifetime of being treated like a dummy at his faculty events with him never sticking up for her. 91/ And, crucially, this is NOT because Rachel isn't smart. It's because ROSS doesn't think she's smart. No matter how high she advances.92/ That's not to say there is no potential downside to Joey, but she'd be treated like a queen instead of patronized forever tbh. 93/ The bottom line is, the Rachel Ross fell in love with was a teenage fantasy he never outgrew that may have been an illusion all along. 94/ Ross fell in love with A PICTURE OF HIMSELF AS THE KIND OF MAN WHO COULD DATE A RACHEL and on some level that was always what he wanted. 95/ Whereas Joey fell in love with a bright, funny, competent single mother he'd been friends with for 7 years and knew inside-out already. 96/ Yes there's something sweet in the idea of Rachel being Monica's sister, but they basically were already. They don't need Ross for that. 97/ The only factor in favor of Ross/Rachel endgame is conventional sitcom storytelling structure. Not because they're RIGHT for each other 98/ Ross and Rachel were endgame because they were considered INEVITABLE, and I don't dispute that that's where the show was always heading. 99/ But a S10 surprise twist where Rachel and Joey end up realizing THEY were each other's lobster all along WOULD HAVE CHANGED SITCOM TV 100/ Anyway, thank you for your time. I'm going to go watch the Barbados 2-parter again now and cry over what could have been. END RANT.
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