#but rjk kept happening a little bit and i’m an ot3 truther at heart so

[thetarttfuldickhead]

For the first sentence: It wasn't his fault, Jamie desperately reminded himself.

I couldn’t settle on any one scenario, so uh, have 5 times when it wasn’t Jamie’s fault + 1 time when it very much was. You’re welcome?

You can also read it on AO3.

1.

It wasn't his fault, Jamie desperately reminded himself. Blinking his eyes, blinking away stupid fucking tears, he tried to focus on the road as he took a left turn, exiting Manchester proper.

Dr. Sharon would tell him as much, he was sure. Roy, too, though he’d have to grit the words out between swallowing down all the I told you so:s he’d no doubt be fighting hard not to throw in Jamie’s face.

Dad wouldn’t agree with either of them, of course, judging by the way he’d snarled and wagged his finger in Jamie’s face, unsteadily leaning against the door to the flat Jamie had gotten him once he got out of rehab. “Couldn’t be bothered to get here on Friday like you said you would, could you, son, and what was I supposed to do all by meself all night, eh, just sit around and twiddle me thumbs like a twat?”

2.

It wasn't his fault, Jamie desperately reminded himself. He wanted to say as much, profess his innocence to Roy’s sister as she carefully pushed and prodded at Roy’s knee while Roy bit back enough swears to keep Phoebe in sweets for a year.

After all, it hadn’t been Jamie who decided that they would go for a run; wasn’t Jamie who laid out the route, or decided how far they should go, or how fast.

It had been for his benefit, though. And it’d been him who kept on going, pushing on and on because he wanted to prove a point, wanted to prove to Roy that he could do it, that he wasn’t soft, wouldn’t quit, wouldn’t break.

And in the end, it wasn’t Jamie who broke.

3.

It wasn't his fault, Jamie desperately reminded himself. Or, if it was, it wasn’t only his fault, because that’s what Ted had been going on about, wasn’t it – how Jamie was only one of eleven, and that meant it wasn’t all down to just him if things went poorly, or if they went well.

Hard to fucking remember that, when he saw the defeated looks on his teammates’ faces as they walked off the pitch in the pouring rain and with the other team’s jubilant cheers still in their ears. Hard to remember that when remembering the sitter he’d missed early in the second half was so very easy.

A familiar hand fell on his shoulder, and a familiar gruff voice murmured in his ear: hey, it was a bad game for all of us, it wasn’t just you.

Jamie gave a curt nod, and tried to believe him.

4.

It wasn't his fault, Jamie desperately reminded himself. Yes, it was his birthday, and yes, it was him who’d nagged Roy into coming with him to the club, but it was Roy who’d dragged him out into the alley and kissed him like he wanted to devour him whole, and they’d both been too drunk, on beer and on each other, to notice the wanker with the phone.

“Papers won’t run it until you make a statement one way or the other, but it’s fucking everywhere on Twitter,” Keeley had told them over the phone after all hell broke lose, sounding as apologetic as if she’d been the one to out them. “I’m so sorry, boys, but not even Rebecca can bury this, and believe me, she’s tried, I think she even threatened to have people killed at some point.”

“Well, happy fucking birthday to me,” Jamie told Roy sourly as he tossed the phone aside and curled up closer to the other man. “For this year I got a hairy old boyfriend.”

5.

It wasn't his fault, Jamie desperately reminded himself. Keeley had already told him that, repeatedly and in between emptying her stomach into the loo.

“This wasn’t your fault, Jamie,” she had assured him, face pale and her hair a sweaty mess that he held back for her. “We’ve ordered from that place loads of times, and there’s never been a problem before.”

And that was true, wasn’t it, but it was also true that he’d been supposed to make dinner for them last night, only he’d been running late after shopping with Isaac so he’d picked up curries on the way back and now Keeley was curled up on the bathroom floor instead of getting ready for the weekend trip they’d been planning for ages.

Roy was going to fucking kill him.

+ 1.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Jamie told Roy as innocently as he could manage, but he knew he wasn’t able to fully hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“It absolutely fucking was,” Roy told him flatly, wiping uselessly at his stained trousers and shooting the giggling Keeley a reproachful glare. But when he turned his eyes back on Jamie there was a dark glimmer in them. “You’ll pay for this when we get home,” he promised.

Mmm, yes. Jamie was rather counting on it.