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callsign-jinx · 2 years ago

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Seeing Red | Ch. 26: The plot thickens ✍️📲

Word count: 4.3k (this is nuts)

Warnings: swearing, dad jake, WHO SENTS THE BOUQUET (read and you'll know), jealous jake, cycunt, someone gets punched pt.2, medical innacuracy but hey i'm a teacher not a doctor, BOB'S WIFE, and a fucking cliffhanger bc this chapter is super long.

A/N: NEXT. CHAPTER. REVEALS. THE. TRUTH. JUST. WAIT. A. BIT. Pls 😭❤️

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It’s been a month since you came here. And what a month!

After the second week of silence regarding the big secret, you stopped waiting. You knew he wanted to tell you; he just needed a bit of time. How much time was a bit, you didn’t know. But you could wait.

During the last month, Jake has been the best father you could have wished for your son. He spent days baby-proofing his house, with Reuben’s help and with a soon-to-be dad named Bob, who took lots of notes. Liam has only been in Jake’s house once, when he hosted a dinner the night before you all left for a mission.

Oh, the mission. It was more of a scouting mission, but you still had to spend almost two weeks on a carrier with the whole squad. That meant sharing a room with Phoenix, small corridors, and a lack of sun. The narrow corridors were the worst part. The universe must have been trying to laugh at you or something, because every time you had to walk through one of those, you found Jake at the other end. It brought thousands of memories. The ones that left you with weak knees. Yeah, he still has that effect on you.

Jake has become a mystery to you. While he may appear to be a completely different person on the outside—someone you don't know—on the inside, he is still the same man you fell in love with.

His entire demeanor has changed, too. It’s like his father's instincts have taken over his personality, and all that bad attitude he displayed with the new recruits or as an instructor is now gone. He has become a perfect aviator, a perfect instructor, and a perfect father. Warlock even came one day to congratulate him for his outstanding behavior.

You’re sure Warlock was the one who came to congratulate him because Cyclone couldn’t even think about it. Every time you two were in the same room, something sent shivers down your spine. You have been trying to avoid him lately.

Everything is perfect. Liam has a lovely and supportive family—more uncles and aunts than days in a week—and Penny and Mav, whom Liam calls Memaw and Pepaw. Your mom, hearing that Liam has so many people surrounding him, has told you that ‘you don’t need her’. She’s literally trying to get you and Jake together, whatever it takes. And she believes she can accomplish this by staying at home with Lady. She has adopted the dog as her own.

Everything is perfect. Well, it could be even better if Jake told you the truth.

But you’ll have to wait for that.

Jake knocks on your door just when you have turned off the computer. “Ready, sweets?”

“Yeah, just let me get my stuff,” You mumble while opening one of the drawers to get some folders.

Jake watches silently as the dog tags slip from the inside of your shirt, hanging from the chain. There they are. The engagement ring he bought, the wedding band you chose together, the one that he placed on your finger at your wedding. How did Amelia get a picture of them? He will ask her later.

Your hand hides them quickly inside your shirt, where they belong, and you glance in Jake’s way. He’s grabbing your bag, his right hand patting his front pocket for some reason. “Warlock is now the babysitter?”

You laugh, closing the drawer and walking to him. “Don’t you think he is better than Dummy Boo?”

“Much, much better. I was thinking that we could have another Disney movie night.” He suggests, opening the door for you.

“Sounds good. We came back a week ago but we’ve been doing so much paperwork…” You groan, trying to get your bag from Jake’s hands, but he softly slaps your hand away. “Give me my bag.”

“Nope,” he grins walking alongside you through the corridor, his hand brushing with yours at every step. He wishes he could just slide his hand between your fingers, draw infinite shapes in your skin.

Ames is right. He needs to tell you.

“It feels like all I’ve seen of him this week is his sleepy form.” Jake mentions, and you nod, because it’s true. He’s been sleeping more lately. Maybe he gets tired at daycare.

“Don’t worry, we still have tons of Disney movies to watch with him. I can’t remember what was the last one we saw.”

“The Emperor’s new groove. Next ones are Atlantis and Lilo and Stitch.”

“Maybe Atlantis is a bit too much for him.” You point out. “Lilo and Stitch.”

“I bought a Stitch plushie. He’s gonna want one of those.” Jake chuckles and you shake your head while laughing.

You sigh, stopping when you reach Warlock’s office. “Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe when Liam falls asleep we could… talk?”

He sees the hope in your eyes, a sparkle in them that makes his heart skip a bit. “Yeah. We’ll talk.”

The smile that you give him in return could illuminate a town for an entire month. “Thank you.”

A part of him feels miserable that you have to thank him for doing something that he should have done before. “You don’t need to thank me, sweets.”

You kiss his cheek and open the door, Jake standing behind you with reddening cheeks. The smiles on your faces drop when you see Cyclone instead of Warlock.

“Where’s Solomon?” You inquire as you observe Liam doodling on a piece of paper.

“He had to leave, and I stayed with Liam.”

"Hey, baby," you say as you kneel in front of him and kiss his cheek.

“Hello, mama.”

“Want to go home?” He nods, and you move his hair out of his face. You need to get him a haircut. “Dada is waiting outside. Can you go with him while I give Beau some boring papers?”

“Dadaaaa!” Liam goes running towards his dad and hugs his leg. Jake drops the bag and hugs him.

“What have you done today, bubs?”

“I paint a lot. Wally is funny.” Liam explains to his dad, who believes that this Wally is Warlock. Liam goes around giving nicknames to everyone. Mickey is Mickey Mouse. Nobody knows why Reuben is called Ben-Ben. Nat, Javy and Bob don’t have nicknames, their names are just that short. And then, there’s Rooster. Well, Woosta. Jake fell to the floor the first time Liam called Bradley like that.

“What about Dummy Boo? Was he funny?” Jake keeps talking to his son while observing the interaction between Red and Cyclone. He still gives him a weird feeling; there’s something behind his actions that doesn’t sit right with Jake.

Javy calls it jealousy, but it goes beyond that. It’s just weird.

Cyclone writes something on a piece of paper that he pushes across the desk until it sits in front of Red’s hand. She takes it with a smile on her face. What the fuck is going on?

Did Cycunt just give her his number?

Today, of all days, the day where he has decided to confess everything to Red, and maybe, even though Jake knows that this is hoping too much, that will lead to the two of them having another chance to be together.

This has to be a joke.

“Woosta!”

“My baby!” Bradley grabs Liam by the waist and lifts him up, making him giggle. It’s quite a sound that you don’t hear too often in a gym.

“Can you take care of him for a bit? I want to hit the bag.” You ask him, leaving Liam’s bag next to the two boys.

“Of course. We’re gonna play a bit with the football, right, buddy?” He tickles Liam, and you smile. You’re so lucky to have them.

“Thanks, Rooster.”

You get your things out of the bag that Jake has left in front of you and go change into more comfortable clothes. You’ve been boxing since the academy days; at first it was like a joke, not really thinking how much you would end up enjoying it. It eventually became a part of your daily routine. Hit the bag for a while to de-stress.

You turn back to the room, wrapping your hands with the red cotton wraps you always carry in your bag.

“Want help?” Jake stands behind the punching bag, his brows knitted together and his arms crossed across his chest.

“Yeah, thanks.” He helps you, silently wrapping your hands and fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy.”

“Okay…”

He drops your hand once it is properly wrapped, then gets the gloves and assists you in slipping your hands into them. “Ready?”

You nod, moving your arms a bit, and throw a combination against the bag. It feels good.

You keep going for a bit, feeling Jake’s eyes on you. You know he wants to say something, but he's biting his tongue.

“Just say it, cowboy.”

“So... you and Cyclone.” He finally mutters through clenched teeth.

“What about me and Cyclone?”

“There’s something there?”

You stop punching the bag immediately. “What?”

“Every time we have to leave the kid outside daycare, he’s there. Every. Single. Time.”

You move around the bag, staring into his eyes. “Please, tell me you’re not trying to insinuate what you’re trying to insinuate.”

“What? That you two are together? Perhaps that's why he called you to lead the team?" His voice raises a level, making the others stop working out and look at the two of you.

You let out a dry laugh, watching from the corner of your eye as Nat walks closer to the two of you. “You really think I’m dating Cyclone?”

“That’s what it looks like, yes”

“And you think you have any right to comment on who I date or not?”

“So it’s right!”

You close your eyes for a second. “Rooster, can you take Liam out of here?”

“Come on, buddy. Let’s play outside” You wait until Rooster and Liam leave the gym to respond.

“Look, asshole. I’ve been waiting for a fucking month—no, scratch that. I’ve been waiting for three fucking years for you to come back and tell me what the fuck I’ve done wrong, why you left, and why I had to raise our kid alone.”

“Red, calm down,” Phoenix says, standing next to Jake.

“I won’t calm down. I’ve been here for a month. You’ve been in my house, every fucking night, and you have slept on the couch because you didn’t want to leave. I knew that you being part of Liam’s life meant that I’d have to see you all the time, even if I didn’t want to.” Your voice is starting to break; you pause for a second to breathe, but Jake takes it as his turn to speak.

“I think I’m entitled to know who the fuck enters my kid’s life.” Jake spits out.

“Jake, you asshole, you have literally been with me every day since I set foot on this base! We work together, we eat together, we go home together with Liam, you sleep there…”

“Your point?”

You're trembling, your eyes are wet, and your teeth are clenched. Why is he doing this? “Do you think I had time left to go see that man?”

“I don’t know, but he gave you a piece of paper with his number, didn’t he?” He steps closer to you. “Maybe even his address.”

“Jake, man. It’s time to stop” Reuben puts a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it off.

“In case you forgot, you left me. Let me repeat it again, because maybe your brain doesn’t understand it. You left me.” You emphasize each word by pressing your glove against his chest. “You don’t have a fuck to say about my life. And no, I’m not seeing Cyclone.”

You turn around to leave, wanting to be the mature person in the room. But again, Jake being Jake, he needs to have the last word. “Then tell him to stay the fuck away from what’s mine”

“Oh shit,” Payback mutters when you come back to where they are.

You throw an uppercut to his stomach, making him fall to his knees. He grunts, breathlessly looking at you. You crouch down, resting your arms on your knees. “You don’t own me, Jake Seresin. Never forget that.”

He starts coughing when you enter the locker room.

"Red.”

“Oh my god, Jake. What now?” You are really close to throwing something at him.

“Please. I’m so-” He moves closer to you, the angriness in his face long gone. You can only see regret now.

“If you say you’re sorry after all the bullshit you just said in front of everyone, I will punch you again, this time without gloves.” You warn him, walking a few steps back. You don’t want him close to you. Your body will betray you, and you know it.

While you were out there screaming at each other, you felt a need to just grab him by the back of his neck and kiss him. He needs to remember that you married him three years ago and that you weren’t the one who asked for a divorce. He needs to know that you were and still are very much in love with him.

And even though you can understand the jealousy he must have felt and how it makes you do and say crazy things, it’s not an excuse.

“You wanna know what that piece of paper was?” You rummage through your bag, looking for that damned piece of paper, pressing it against his chest. “Read it.”

“Jane Simpson?” His brows furrow. That's not the name he was expecting to read.

“Cyclone’s daughter. She’s a sitter. Cyclone said that next time the daycare is closed, I could call her and ask her to take care of Liam.” You grab all your things while Jake registers this information, feeling like an absolute dick. Great, he deserves it. “Don’t fucking come to my house tonight.”

Jake spends the next five hours inside his car, arms and head resting on the steering wheel. How has he messed up so much? Today was the day. He was going to tell you the truth, and there wouldn't be any secrets left between them. Not anymore.

But fucking Jake Seresin had to open up his big mouth.

He grabs his phone, taking a deep breath before sending a text to Mav.

Ames and Mav are glad that you punched him. He really deserves it. He's been scolded by both of them for hours now.

"When you punched Rooster a while ago, I was glad," Ames explains, filling up Jake’s glass of water. "But now? I want to go and give her a round of applause."

"Yeah, yeah. I know I deserve it, don't remind me." Jake lets his head fall against the table. The two of them are sitting outside the bar, in one of the benches, Mav has gone inside to help Penny with the new customers. "I'm gonna need a miracle now. She won't forgive me."

"Let's remember that she still carries her wedding rings around." She points out, playing with Jake's hair.

"How did you find out?" Jake's voice comes out muffled.

"Red showed them to Nat, Penny saw them and sent us a text. I've been carefully trying to take a picture of them since she told me. And one day she fell asleep on the couch, Liam had been playing with them…"

"He likes shiny things," Jake mutters to himself, that sentence making so much sense now. He liked to play with his mom's dog tags because the rings were there.

"I just took a picture. But instead of making you understand that she's still pretty much in love with you, and faithfully waiting for you to come back, it had the opposite effect."

He lifts his head, realizing that he said all those stupid things literally one hour after Amelia sent him that photo. "I'm an asshole."

"Congrats, it took you only…" She checks her phone. "Shit, it's almost midnight."

"Already?" Jake grabs his phone from his pocket. It had been silent all day.

He gets up from the bench in a swift motion, the glass of water falling over the table. "Jake, what the fuck?"

He unlocks the phone and calls you, his whole body frozen in pure terror.

Not his kid.

Everything but him.

"Red?" He can hear Liam crying. It breaks his heart into a million pieces.

"Oh my god Jake, thank God. Liam has a high fever, and the fucking car isn't working, and…” You're trying to calm Liam, but he can hear you crying. You must be so scared. Jake grabs his car keys and runs to his car for the second time in one month.

Jake knows he has to be the big person now. He needs to keep his cool and not fuck this up. His son needs him. "Hey, hey. Honey, listen to me, okay? I'm at the Hard Deck. Just give me a few minutes, and I'll be with you. I'm gonna call Bob and check if his wife is working tonight."

"Shhh, Liam. I know it hurts, but we're gonna make it stop, okay? Dada's coming." You choke on your words, and he doesn't want to end the call, but he needs to. He needs to call Bob.

"I'm gonna hang now. I'll be there soon."

"Hurry, please."

You hang up, and he scrolls down his recent calls to look for Bob.

"Man, I don't want to talk to you right now." Bob quickly says, angry at Jake’s behavior.

"Bob, please. Liam’s sick. Is Doc working?"

"Yes, she is. Take him to the hospital; I'll call her."

"Thanks, Bob. We'll be there soon."

"I hope it's nothing."

Jake hangs up the phone for the second time in minutes and drives like a madman. He can hear Liam's heartbreaking cries in his head. He must be hurting. It could be literally anything. Reuben told him that children get sick often; it's part of their life. But this is his first time going through this.

When he drove like this last month because you were sick, he felt scared. This is ten times worse. A kid is sick. He's a baby; he doesn't know how to explain things. If he's hurting, he won't say it; he's only going to cry and hope that it goes away.

And the only thing his parents can do is take him to the ER and hope for the best.

Once he gets to your home, he sees you. You're wearing the same clothes you had in the gym, and it makes it look like it has only been a few hours since the last time he saw you. The tiredness on your face, however, makes it feel like an eternity.

“Get in.” He opens the passenger door from the inside, and you run to get inside the car, tears staining your face. Liam keeps crying, his face is red and wet, and when he sees his dad, he makes grabby hands in his direction and calls for him between cries. “Dada needs to drive, bubs. We’re gonna take you to see Doc, okay? You remember Doc?”

Jake turns the engine on and drives to the hospital. “Is she working?” You ask loudly, trying to make yourself heard over Liam’s cries.

“Yeah, she’s waiting for us.”

“Thank god.”

Once you get to the ER, you see Doc waiting for you, her hand resting on her small baby bump. “There you are.”

“Aren’t you gonna get into trouble for this?”

“Pediatrics is empty. Follow me.”

Doc leads you to one of the children’s rooms in the ER. You try to leave Liam in bed, but he doesn’t want to let go of you. Jake hands him a plushie, and Liam’s attention is diverted long enough for Doc to check his temperature. “Has he been eating well lately?”

“Warlock told me that Liam didn’t eat all his morning snacks, and he didn’t want to eat dinner early.” You explain, playing with your fingers. Jake takes your hand between his, squeezing it tightly.

“It’s okay, relax.” He whispers, and you nod.

“Has he been angry or distracted?” Doc is now looking at Liam’s ears.

“Not really.”

“Has he been rubbing his ear?”

You think for a moment. “Yeah. He’s been doing that all afternoon.”

She nods and grabs her tablet, writing down everything. “It’s just an ear infection. He rubs his ear, hoping to get rid of the pain.”

Jake and you both sigh with relief. Ear infections are very common. “You must think I’m an idiot for not noticing and overreacting like this.”

Doc smiles and hugs Red. “You did what you had to do. Your kid was in pain, and you didn’t know what to do, so you went to the doctor. That’s what good parents do.”

“Thank you, Doc.” Jake says when she turns to hug him.

“Any time. I’m gonna get some painkillers for him. Wait here. You’ll be able to leave in a minute.” She leaves you alone, Liam more calm now that he has a new toy to play with, but silent tears still run down his face.

“I’m sorry you had to run to my house for an ear infection.” You mutter under your breath, your gaze fixed on Liam's hair.

“I should be the one apologizing here, sweets. I was supposed to be there with you.” Jake’s thumb caresses your knuckles; the action melts you inside. You’ve missed him so much. Being close to him Touching him. Feeling him.

“You’re cute, but you’re not cute when you’re jealous.” You say, somehow make him chuckle.

He lifts his eyes and locks them with yours in an honest, poignant stare. “You’re the only thing I have left, Red. You and Liam. I was so scared to lose you both. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Jake…”

Doc enters the room, medicine in hand. “Okay, buddy, I’m gonna give you this, and once you get home, you’re gonna feel so much better.” She pushes the oral syringe into Liam’s mouth, who takes the medicine like a good boy. “That’s it. Here’s the name of the medicine I just gave him.”

You look at the paper. “Yeah, I have this one at home.”

“Perfect then. It’s gonna kick in very soon. He will fall asleep soon, too. His body is really tired from all the crying.” Doc kisses Liam’s head. “I hope to see you soon under much better circumstances.”

“Thank you so much, Doc. You’re the best.” Jake hugs her again and takes Liam.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll call Bob and tell him it’s nothing, okay? Go home and rest. You both look like you need it.” She gives you a sympathetic smile and accompanies you to the door, waving to a sleepy Liam, who is now resting in his dad’s arms.

“I think he’s gonna fall asleep.” Jake whispers, and you look at him. Yeah, he has that tired look in his eyes.

“I’ll drive.”

He frowns. “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll drive.”

“He’s asleep.” You whisper, sitting next to Jake on the sofa. The room is dark, with the only source of light coming from the streetlight on the other side of the street.

Jake’s head rests against the back of the sofa. “You should go to sleep, too. I’ll stay here in case he wakes up.”

You shake your head and start crying. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

“Hey, hey,” He takes your face between his hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I called you crying like a crazy woman, and all that happened was that Liam had an ear infection.”

Jake shushes you and hugs you tightly. “No, that’s not what happened. A good mom called the not-so-good dad and asked for help when their kid wasn’t feeling good.”

“You’re a good dad, Jake.” You state, not leaving room for doubts. He is a good dad, and he needs to know that.

“But I’m not a good man.” He retorts, separating himself from your body, even if that’s exactly the opposite of what he wants to do.

You sigh, leaning against the sofa. “Jake, you said some stupid things. And you apologized. I can’t imagine how you must have felt when you suddenly encountered yourself as part of a family, and then your brain tells you that some prick is trying to steal them away from you.”

Jake snorts. “You called Cyclone a prick?”

“Cycunt suits him better.” You smirk, and Jake swears he could kiss you. “Look, I know he was flirting with me, but I thought that if I didn’t say anything, he would stop.”

“Nah, it doesn’t work that way. Men are idiots. Ignore us, and we’ll think that you’re trying to play hard to get. Say no, and we’ll think you’re saying yes. Be completely obvious, and we’ll think that you’re not interested at all.”

“And you say that women are difficult.”

“That’s why you’re the ones giving birth, sweets. You’re better than us in every single aspect.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. “You’re not a bad man, Jake. The only bad thing you’ve done is easy to fix.”

Jake looks at his hands for a second, deep in thought. “I’m gonna need something strong.”

“Tequila? Mickey gave me a bottle.”

“Tequila works.”

You get up and go to the kitchen, coming back in an instant with two glasses and the bottle. Jake grabs the bottle and fills the glasses, clinking them before downing it in one shot.

“Okay. You want the truth? Here’s the truth.”

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koiantlers · 5 years ago

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I was super inspired to write thanks to THIS AMAZING COMIC by @skeleslime-phantom !! Please go look at all his other artwork, it’s all so good.

The Conductor is used to doing things on his own.

He taught himself to fight, years ago, back when he was a wee chick with even bigger anger issues. He learned to cook in order to help his parents out, after he saw how hard it was for his mother to move, or how tired his father was. He bought his first camera with his own money, doing a job he hated.

And when his wife left, leaving him with a lil one, he took care of her all by himself as well.

He has no issue watching his grandchildren, happy to do so for his daughter. He can focus on them, feeding them, instead of thinking about how she's getting weaker, her feathers are falling off more, her eyes are dimmer-

No, none of that. The Conductor has to focus on his grandchildren.

"Clocking out already, darling?"

The Conductor snaps, "None of ya business!" as a reflex, already on edge from today. But he glances at Grooves, and continues, "...But yeh. Gotta go watch the grand kids for a bit."

"Did something come up again? Is she…" Grooves asks him, and the Conductor hates how much softer his voice gets. And at the same time, his shoulders tense at the word again and that fatherly instinct kicks up inside of him.

"Save it, Grooves," he snarls, "don't pretend to to care." The Conductor won't listen to someone talk about his family like this, especially his daughter, who has worked harder than anyone else, especially DJ Grooves. "That's just cruel-"

He's jerked back, and he realizes his coat has been grabbed. He snaps his gaze up at Grooves, ready to yell at him, but the rockhopper is looking at him oddly, in a way that makes the Conductor pause.

"I don't need to 'pretend' if my sympathy is real. I'm finished for the day too, so if you need a helping hand, then you got one." They're close enough that the Conductor can see his eyes through the hideous sunglasses, those bright blue eyes. It makes him think of their sparring not even a week ago, when Grooves got the upperhand and won. And the Conductor had stayed on that floor long after Grooves left, staring up at the ceiling as he thought back on his rival.

"Okay?" Grooves speaks and it jolts the Conductor back. His head is screaming no, that he doesn't need this gaudy primadonna's help. But the Conductor keeps glancing at those eyes, and he ends up sighing, "Fine. If ye want to come so badly, I guess the kiddos wouldn't mind another pair o' watchful eyes."

"Happy to help, darling." Grooves has an annoying smile on his face as he follows the Conductor, and the owl chooses to ignore, walking slightly faster than normal.

The last kid has been put to bed. Despite the feeling of dread in his stomach, the Conductor feels at ease, for once not feeling so tired after spending time with his grandchildren.

Though, he supposes Grooves is to thank for that.

The penguin is a natural with children, the Conductor noticed. Plays with them easily and is great at distracting them, with his glasses or bright coat. The Conductor kept watching him, something warm settling inside him as he sees Grooves pick up his grandchildren, calling them lil darlings.

He huffs a laugh. Little darlings, right. Their babysitter would get a kick out of that.

It's late now, and the Conductor knows he should be shoving Grooves out, mumble a thanks and be on with his life.

"Ye want dinner?" He asks instead, and he feels smug at the surprised look Grooves gives him, only for his heart to flutter at the smile he gives him, "Never can turn down food, darling."

So, the Conductor finds himself cooking dinner for two. Grooves hovers around him in the kitchen, and he finds her doesn't mind it. He cooks them steak, something easy, and stares at it instead of Grooves.

"Yer good with kids." He finds himself saying after a moment.

"Heh. Well...had a lot of little cousins growing up."

"No kids?" Conductor glances at him, and he does find himself a little surprised. Grooves is a peckneck, of course, but he's by no means ugly. Nice soft blue feathers, broad shoulders, a soothing voice...Grooves is by all standards, a handsome bird.

"Ah, well...you know, guys like me can't really have kids." Grooves laughs, a nervous thing the Conductor barely hears.

The owl furrows his brows and looks at him. "Like you?"

"Gay."

Oh. "Ah." The Conductor clears his throat, and he feels so suddenly flustered.

Him and Grooves go quiet, and the owl hands him a plate of food. They sit next to each other on the couch, shoulders touching.

This feels odd, sitting like this, in his daughters home. Grooves eats quietly, and the Conductor's chest keeps fluttering, every time they brush against each other.

"You'd be a good parent." He says, suddenly, and can't bare to see Grooves expression. He sets his plate aside, and instead finds himself fiddling with his hands. "I, er, appreciate...you helpin' with the kids."

He does look at Grooves now, and his heart jumps into his throat. The penguin is smiling at him, that smile all lopsided and dopey, as his blue eyes are soft. He can see them clearly now, with the shades set aside because of one of his kiddos playing with them.

He's suddenly very aware how close is he to Grooves. He shifts a bit, angling himself to face him. Grooves is still smiling, and says in that lovely voice of his, "Thank you, darling. You're not so bad yourself."

That teasing near the end gets the Conductor swallowing hard, feeling himself heat up because of it. Grooves is so close now, their beaks almost touching, and the Conductor should say something back, but all he can do is open and close his beak.

Grooves' eyes dart down to the Conductor's beak. "Darling?" He mumbles, quietly. The Conductor is gripping his jacket, and Grooves closes his eyes as the owl leans forward-

"Pepaw!"

Both the Conductor and Grooves jump, the Conductor shoving himself away from Grooves. One of his little tykes smile at him, crawling out from the kitchen.

Oh bloody hell, "Hidin' in cabinets again?" He huffs at the little one, who giggles at being picked up. He snuggles into the Conductor's chest, who shyly glances at Grooves.

The penguin stares, but manages to clear his throat. "Heh, uh...ahem, best put him to bed."

"Yeah." He says, and looks away. He quickly walks away, not at all thinking about what him and Grooves were about to do.

It was just the heat of the moment, he tells himself.

#a hat in time #ahit #the conductor #dj grooves #discotrain #my fics #no beta we die like men

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365elephantsoap · 3 years ago

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ICE CREAM STORIES

I wrote this post over a week ago. It has just been sitting in my drafts waiting for me to do something with it. I’m posting it now for a number of reasons. One reason is that it is something new to read while I finish compiling some thoughts from the weekend. Not too long ago, Atlas Obscura was offering a four part writing workshop on telling stories through ice cream. They have been advertising in the daily newsletter that I get in my email and the first add asked “Can you tell stories with ice cream?” I did not sign up for the workshop. I am sure I could have benefitted from it but I already knew without a doubt that of course you can tell stories with ice cream. My whole life is linked to that creamy sweet wonderful dessert. It is genetically encoded in my DNA to love ice cream. It is also genetically encoded into my DNA for my gut to not love it so much, but I don’t care. I will eat the ice cream and suffer the consequences later. I’m talking about ice cream. Not custard. Midwest is all about custard, which is good, but it is not ice cream. Look. It’s just better to not get me started, but I will say that Michael was almost forty years old before ever eating at a Braum’s and that is a goddamn travesty.

“You mean I can get any flavor ice cream as a shake instead of a drink with my hamburger meal?!?!”

Mom told me a story once about my Pepaw, her dad. She said that Pepaw would make ice cream every evening. It always contained whatever fruit was in season and growing around them, but his favorite was peach. She told me about how they would all eat a bowl of ice cream after dinner. Then they might go to the movies or church or some family activity. When they got back, Pepaw would eat another bowl of ice cream. She said “Your Pepaw loved his ice cream.” Pepaw rarely made the drive from Mississippi to Oklahoma to visit. We most always went there, but I vividly remember the times that he did come and stay. One visit in particular was right around my high school graduation. I still had school activities every day, but when I would get home, my Pepaw would say “Let’s go get ice cream.” I would then drive us in my 1980 Chevy Cavalier into Owasso for ice cream. That car was the car that replaced my first hunk of junk and it was so nice, except the air conditioning didn’t work. Still it seemed like quite the upgrade from what I had been driving. At least this car had whole, working seatbelts. Pepaw was the only person I would allow to smoke in my car. The truth is, I would never have denied him anything. I got so little time with my Pepaw and of that little time I did get, only a bit of that was alone time. During that visit, it was just the two of us driving into town, sitting at a plastic table outside Braum’s and eating ice cream. Our conversations varied, but he told me his regrets. He told me that he loved me and that he was very proud of me. This meant more to me than the ice cream because I didn’t think Pepaw really knew me. We only ever saw each other once or twice a year.

Pepaw could be the first chapter of my ice cream stories, with several chapters to follow that. Ice cream is a link to every man in my life. That boy I had a I huge crush on my freshman year of college and how the two of us would always make the ice cream run for whoever was hanging out in the dorm lobby . Chris and how he always used “let’s go get ice cream” to trick me into going to Best Buy. Michael seeing me mad, cranky or sad saying “Do we need ice cream?” and then driving me to my favorite ice cream place. Dad and vanilla ice cream. I could go on and on because there are many ice scream stories to be told.

While I was wrapped up in a yoga silk the other night, I started thinking about physical pain and how that pain gets stored in our bodies. The facia is that membrane that surrounds the muscles. Think of it as cellophane. Each moment of pain twists, wrinkles and knots that facia. Some knots are bigger than others and those are the ones we tend to remember most clearly. I can still vividly recall the pain of getting my tonsils removed at age seven and the pain from doctors attempting to reset my broken right arm when I was ten or eleven. Strangely enough I do not remember the pain of breaking my other arm two years earlier. I guess breaking both bones in two doesn’t hurt as much as cracking a bone? Once, while riding Katrina’s bicycle, I turned a corner while going too fast and I laid the bicycle down, sliding the right side of my body down the road. The memory of that moment is more vivid due to my calm reaction as I stood up. The neighbor had watched the whole thing and asked me if I was okay. I leaned over, picked the bike up and shrugged while saying “I’m fine.” It wasn’t until I had the bike parked safely and was inside the house that I allowed that pain to flood over me and cry. All of those moments are stored in giant knots of facia in my body. It only takes a nudge to bring the memory of that pain to the surface.

I have zero memories of the pain of brain freeze from eating ice cream. Oh, I know I have had it happen to me as a child and even as an adult, but the memory of that pain is not held someplace in my body for later recall. I suppose that is why I repeat the action that causes this pain over and over again. It’s why we all do. The reason that brain freeze pain doesn’t stick itself into the fascia is because the action comes with sweetness and joy. There is usually some giggling involved. Brain freeze is a physical pain of joy and that joy tends to overrun the pain. It’s like love. We love even though we know at some point we are going to end up broken hearted because the sweetness and joy outweighs the pain aspect of loving.

#ice cream #love #pain

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