#said the manager told him he'd come back and help once he got the cashier his stuff for the night. and i was like wow great! that helps

[yrbutchgf]

people really like me at work because im quick, thorough, and pretty upbeat even though i have to put up with a lot of shit. what they don't know is that 60% of my day is spent just going [kasey will remember that] to myself

[irepookie]

Infinity

Summary: QUEEN AU where Roger (akaRow) is a teen single dad and aspiring rock star

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff and some cursing.

Words: 2090

I changed the names Cause I feel more comfortable writing it that way (idk why) but I could re-change them if that'd help you getting more into the story.

Rowan Queen: (tho you can imagine Ben as well. This is my take)

Chapter 1: I'm here

Written from his mother's POV, which gives us some insight on the family background and history as the first day of the rest of their lives unravels.

Gina Marie Queen (neé Thomas) had always been ahead of her time. She was never a fearful woman. Not for men anyway. She hadn't had a father -that alcoholic piece of shit was nothing close to that.-

And for all she knew, she hadn't had a husband either -another waste of space-. She had finally kicked him out hers and her son's life after 10 years of hell when that drunk asshole's rehearsal fits had made her lose the daughter she had been longing for since she could remember.

He could throw plates at her, and she'd fight back burning his beloved match tapes. Or intoxicate his food. Those were her favorite paybacks.

He could verbally abuse their son, and wake up with pink hair the next day. (Rowan's idea when he was 10)

But the night he had pushed her and she had broken waters at month number 5, that was it.

It should have ended earlier, she knew. Her unborn daughter shouldn't have had to suffer the consequences for Gina to finally throw his shit out the window and soak them in the Jack Daniels bottle he hid under his side of the bed and light them with the lighter he'd switch his bloody cigars.

But unfortunately that's what it had taken.

And she would have strangled him in his sleep if she had known Rowan would be taken care of while in jail. But she wasn't. And someone had to think of the rebellious trouble maker too.

And when her son -yes, she decided that rebellious trouble maker was, more or less, worthy of the title despite being the spitting image of the his father- became a father, Gina feared her granddaughter would have the same fate. Row had it in his genes and , as much she had tried to raise him as best as she was capable of, that fear never faded.

So when the phone rang

"Rowan Queen?"

""I'm his mother"

"I'm from the Hospital's maternity aisle. We call to inform you that his daughter's mom has disappeared after giving birth..."

That was all she needed to hear before dropping the phone and leaving it hanging upside down

"ROWAN EUGENE QUEEN! GET YOUR FUCKING ASS HERE THIS INSTANT!"

"I've got rehearsals with the band..."

"YOU GOT SOMEONE PREGNANT, YOU IDIOT??!"

"Me? No!"

"WELL THINK AGAIN!"

"Mum..."

"Just got a call from hospital saying your daughter's mother has disappeared after birth!!! And they called us!"

He was high school's infamous Playboy. Blonde, Blue Big eyes, and a charming smile. And on top of that, one of the four members of a wannabe rock band. The Hot Drummer, they call him .Gina knew. She didn't need to hear about his reputation to know the likelihood of him getting someone pregnant was high. But she had pictured it differently.

She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled, but he didn't move. He kept staring at nowhere.

"Rowan!!!"

No reaction.

She had to slap his cheek in order to get him out his shock

"What do you want?!"

"We're going to hospital, right now"

"What? Why?"

"To work this shit out!!"

"But we have to rehearse"

"Fuck that shit Rowan! They've just told us you got someone pregnant and she run off! That's the most important thing right now so get in that this instance!!"

He did as told. It was a tense car ride. And Gina remembered Elsa. Her baby girl. And how for her father's fault she wasn't there.

"So what now?" Row asked

"We're putting her up for adoption, unless they can contact the mother, although I don't think she should have a say. But if you're the so called father and your name is in the file, we can leave your part signed and then go home."

"Oh"

Gina thought she caught a hint of disappointment in his voice.

It had to be her imagination. Disappointment over what? Missing the wonderful experience of being a teen dad? Ha.

He did look thoughtful. He hadn't even turned on the radio.

Something was off.

But she figured he'd just want to get this whole thing over with, and that he'd sign her over to a better family. As anyone with minimum common sense would

Right?

Then, as they waited for the application, he asked if he could see her.

Her answer was immediate "No"

"Why?"

"How come Why? Why on Earth would you want to see her?"

"Well I'm here. You've been freaking out , and freaking me out as well. Might as well see who this fuss is about"

"A baby. That's it. You don't need to see one. They all look the same. Small, Wrinkly, like a large prune. There you have it"

"Well I wanna see my... That small wrinkled prune"

Damn. He had said <<mine>>. He already considered her his.

Gina changed her strategy.

"Your name is on the certificate, right. But that means nothing"

"Why would it be there otherwise?""

"A mistake. Or maybe the mother just wants to tangle you up."

"The mother's gone"

"Yes. For now. It's called Baby Blues, and when it's gone She'll have you exactly where she wants to. Because I'm guessing she won't be no straight A student either, and you'll have to sustain them both -if you ever make it to college- and you'll end up getting married, and maybe you don't even love her, but divorce is even more tedious than getting married. That's why I've Never done it. So you'll both be stuck as cashiers in whatever low cost store, and then she'll confess that you were her high school crush but that the kid is actually her ex boyfriend's and then you'll throw a fit, and you'll get in a fight and you'll end up grabbing whatever is on your reach to hit whoever's on your reach...."

"Wait mom. I just... I just wanna see her." Row cut her off " Whoever the fuck she may actually be, I'm the one who's here. And I ain't signing anything without knowing who I'm making decisions for. That's all. I just want to see. I don't even want to touch her or whatever. Just knowing who's the reason I had to turn the boys down today. Then I'll sign the paper and we'll go home."

"She's in the NICU anyway. Doubt they'll let you in"

"What's NICU?" Gina caught genuine concern in his voice.

"Nothing bad." She reassured.

They handed the files, and she took them "I'll fill them"

She got through the first page, and he was gone.

Shit. That stubborn bastard.

She didn't want him to be a father. He was 19 for fucks shake. Had never had one of his own. He had only moved out a couple months ago. Nothing lasted much for him. Wether it was a girlfriend, a job, clothes... His longest pet had reached one year alive. And he couldn't go long without getting injured

Not even his drum kit had survived the move, and was litterally patched up. She'd consider herself guilty of murder if she allowed a baby to be on that list. Not to mention the alternative was that she'd be the one, sooner or later, to take over. Because he was never patient and would stress too much -if he didn't lose interest first- or get fed up and cause her shaken Baby syndrome. And just as she was too young to be a grandmother, she was too old to raise a second kid.

So she stormed inside the NICU aisle ready to get him out of there. And what she saw was quite breathtaking. The look in his eyes was priceless: such fondness and marvel... Only comparable to when he had first seen that red Ludwig drum set through the glass of the local music store.

"I've never seen something so awesome in my life!" He had said.

They had never been able to afford it. He had tried to get a job after school, to save up everything. But it hadn't been enough. And he'd go everyday to that street, and just stare at the shiny wonderful kit for hours, hands on the glass, knowing that the likelihood of ever owning it was almost non existent.

He ended up making acquaintance with the owner. They tried to bargain for it, but his lowest price was way too high for them. He did get to play it once tho, and it was an undescribable experience. Murray, the owner, let him give it a try out of pity when someone else bought it, as a farewell. And had never seen anything like it again.

Now this baby was, technically, his -regardless of what biology could say- and he was about to give it away.

Gina did know on first hand it was, having been a volunteer on midwife assistance with her aunt. And 10/10 woman who swore to never want anything to do with their child changed their minds as soon as they laid eyes on them. Only those who really followed through -take it away, I don't wanna see it- walked out there with empty arms.

Now Row was looking at that baby ad if she was a treasure, but that meant nothing in the long term. His father had done something similar to Elsa's sonogram.

Her poor little girl. So young.

So helpless. She had been so naive thinking he would ever change.

But she wasn't gonna make that mistake again. She loved her son, but he really wasn't good at anger management.

She couldn't expose another innocent child to such danger.

"Rowan, come here now. You've seen her. Got what you wanted. Met her. Now let's get this over with"

His hand was resting on the top of the incubators glass, even if he had unglued his eyes from the tiny being inside and nailed on her now, as if he had been staring at the sun for a long while and was now blinded.

"Why the hurry?"

Was she hearing correctly?

"How come Why the hurry? Because we both have things to do"

"I've already cancelled the one plan I had..."

"Well I still have an errand to get done."

He didn't reply, eyes back on the child

"Rowan" she approached him, making sure not to look at the kid. "Rowan Eugene Queen, look at me when I'm talking to you" she ordered in a strict tone

"What?"

"Papers. Signature. Now"

"I'm thinking about it"

"Thinking about...?! Thinking about what? What's there to think? Sign these and we'll go home, and we'll never have to look back at this! Nobody has to know."

"And what about the raisin?"

"The what?"

"Her. What about her?"

"She'll be fine. Adopting couples love newborns. She'll go to a fit, nice marriage and will be very happy. And we'll resume our lives"

"And I'll never see her again?"

"Why do you care?"

He just shrugged and turned his attention back to her. Gina watched him watch her. Goddamn. She was losing him.

"Are you the father?" A nurse asked, walking towards.

*Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it*

Gina prayed.

"I suppose I am" He said it so naturally, with such a bright genuine smile that Gina almost forgot how critical those words were.

"Well, I'm Callie, and I'm on charge tonight. Congratulations, Mr... Oh, Queen." Her eyes widened When reading the tag on the incubator. "We're glad at least someone's here"

"Yea, well..." He scratched the back of his head nervously

"Don't worry. Her mom will get over it." She turned to Gina "You must be Gran..."

"No I'm not" Gina snapped harshly before she could finish the sentence "We were leaving"

"We were not"

"Rowan, I will not repeat it. Sign those bloody papers and get your ass back in the car"

"What if I don't want to?"

"This is serious! There's no other way!"

"Yes there is!"

"You can't be serious!" What 19 year old would ever choose this?

"Well I am"

"You don't even know what serious means! You have no sense of responsibility! You've never finished anything you've ever started!"

"Maybe I want to change! Maybe I can grow up if you stop pestering the shit outta me day In day out! This is not your decision!"

"I'm not letting you do this Row!"

"Then go! Leave me the fuck alone and stop getting in my way!"

Before Gina could answer, a small cry came from the incubator.

And she found herself walking backwards.

It was right she couldn't stop him but she wasn't gonna take part on it.

So she turned around and left, as the nurse explained Row how to hold his newborn daughter.

"You're not gonna break her, I promise. You'll do fine. Because you're here. Just because you're here I know you're gonna be a great dad. You already are" Callie said, putting his trembling arms on the correct position before lifting the small white bundle out the incubator.

They usually didn't do it unless it was necessary for a feed or a change, but she thought this was even more important: they had to meet each other properly: The little one needed to hold on to someone after being abandoned. And there was something in the young boy's eyes that told her he needed just the same.

So with a reassuring smile Callie placed her on Rowan's arms, who brought her closer to his chest by instinct, a small smile already on his lips as he took in her features.

She was gorgeous. And he didn't know why, but he found her to be the most perfect thing he had ever seen. He instantly knew he was gonna protect that wrinkled prune at all costs.

"Hey there, lil'raisin. I'm..." He swallowed the lump in his throat "I'm your Dad and... I'm here now."

🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶

Hope you guys liked it

It's my first fic on Tumblr so I still don't have the formatting completely handled and my phone won't let me select all the paragraphs at once to put it all in regular font.

Let me know what you think. Thank you all!!😍😍😍😍

~Pookie

[ecotone99]

[RF] "In Decline"

Warren Wilson loved his wife. Warren Wilson loved his children. Warren Wilson hated the new Big-Box store that had moved into town three years ago. He hated it because somewhere deep down, on a barely conscious level, Warren Wilson loved his little store on Main Street every bit as much as he loved his wife and kids on Adams Street.

Warren Wilson's store was a small grocery and pharmacy on the south end of town, just two miles from the highway. The Warren, his wife had named it. It had been more than a store. It had been the nerve-center of the town and the love of Mr. Wilson's life for the past thirty years. The joke had often been made that the woman who raised his children was only his mistress, and Warren could understand why. Although the store never took priority over his family, Mr. Wilson doubted whether he could go more than a few days without wandering down the aisles, trading gossip with the old biddies who never seemed to leave the pharmacy, or talking crops with the local farmers who had turned the deli into their watering hole. Warren had enjoyed the feeling of being at the center of things, of knowing that his opinions were both respected and desired. But now they were taking that from him.

The Warren used to be the first thing anyone saw when entering town. Now they saw the Big-Box and the future site of its associated gas station. Tom Harkin, the owner of the local Big-Box, had made him a more than generous offer. Despite the fierce loyalty of The Warren's customers the past few years had been kind to the Big-Box, and Tom was nothing if not ambitious. He was the type of man who had fallen for every get-rich-quick scheme he'd ever encountered. His high school "gig" had turned out to be a pyramid scheme; he'd sunk most of his inheritance into several houses he'd had no idea how to renovate, and he'd even managed to give money to Madoff in the eighties. Despite getting swept up in these passing fantasies now and again Tom had a decent head for business, and he knew how to use people. Or perhaps that was just Warren's experience talking. Whatever his particular acumen, Tom Harkin had chosen exactly the right moment to strike. Warren and he had never been close friends, but they had gotten along alright until Tom had begun to float the idea of selling The Warren to him. It was true that Mr. and Mrs. Wilson had talked about retiring to travel the world together ever since they'd been high school sweethearts planning their hypothetical life. The offer on the store would certainly have allowed them to do that in comfort, but with careful planning they likely would have been able to do so anyway. It had been Edie's illness that really created the opportunity. Ten years before it would have been a death sentence. It had been an incredibly rare disease that took fewer than a hundred people every year. There had been almost no interest in its research. That was, until the daughter of a beloved celebrity had been diagnosed with that self-same affliction which would rock the lives of the Wilsons ten years to the day later. It had been one of those moments when the nation rallied together as one. Even the Warren had placed little tin donation cans next to each of its four checkout stands. Within a couple of years a budding new drug company was excitedly announcing the beginning of human trials for a potential cure. Two years later the first prescriptions were being written. Some people went to the doctor and were reassured that their condition wasn't too serious, or that they had "caught it early." Some people "got lucky," but not Edie Wilson, and Warren felt responsible. He hadn't been there when she collapsed, hadn't noticed how tired she'd been, hadn't seen the peculiar way in which she performed certain motions. He'd been at the store. He'd noticed a pattern of irregularities in one of the cashier's transactions. He'd seen the peculiar glassy eyes and odd sense of humor developed by the night manager he'd hired to compete with the Big-Box's twenty-four-hour schedule. These were the things Warren Wilson had seen instead of his wife's illness, and that ate at him. So, with guilt in his mind and his Edie in his heart, Warren Wilson had agreed to sell his store. He hadn't even gotten around to telling Edie. They had discussed it before her collapse. They had discussed a lot of things Warren couldn't quite remember. In the end though, Mrs. Wilson had told her husband that she would support his decision, whatever it might be. She had known how much The Warren meant to him. Still, somewhere between the ceaseless parade of diagnosticians, specialists and exhaustive batteries of tests Warren's faith had been tested and found wanting. That was when Tom had made his play. Just as Warren was beginning to feel as though he'd never see his store again, as though he'd never see anything beyond the off-white of hospital walls for the rest of his and Edie's lives, Tom had decided to substantially increase his offer on The Warren. "For old-time's sake," he'd said. He'd known the Wilson's since he was young, had always respected them, and wanted to do what he could to help. That was always the way it was with men like Tom, they were always helping you out, even when they were helping themselves. Warren had taken several days to think about it, but only because he hadn't wanted to give Tom the satisfaction of his immediate acceptance. However, after one particularly tiring Monday morning's treatment, while Edie slept in her hospital bed, Warren finally gave in and met Tom at the Denny's down the road from his house. The local diner on main street was much better, but Warren hadn't complained; this was, after all, Tom's meeting and Tom's victory. He had at least been polite enough to ask how Edie was before getting down to business. There'd been no haggling over price. It was a good investment for Tom, and he'd been more than fair in his offer. Warren had mostly been concerned that there should be a place for his employees at Tom's store. In particular he'd worried over the young shift manager, Anna. A shy but ambitious young woman. Warren had once or twice floated the idea of selling the shop to her when it came time for his retirement. He supposed she would go back to school and finish her degree now, but he had made sure that Tom would offer her a full-time position until then. As he'd left the restaurant Warren had told himself that all he felt was relief that the deed would finally be done, but even before he had reached the hospital the seed of doubt had begun to take root. Mr. Wilson was a man for whom life decisions didn't so much come easy as they did force themselves upon him without permission. When there was a choice to be made Warren could typically feel his eventual decision welling up inside himself long before he was willing to give voice it. That was how he'd felt about the sale of his store as well. He'd told himself that the regret was natural. He'd pretended that it would pass. But deep down Warren Wilson knew; even if the papers were done by Wednesday, he would have had far too long to think to ever sign away his store. The News he'd received on his return to Edie's room had helped him to put his doubts out of his mind. That night the Wilson’s had cried until they both slept there in the room. Edie's condition wasn't responding to treatment. That didn't mean it wouldn't, but the doctors had been careful to stress to them that the longer it took the worse the prognosis got. The next morning they had carefully avoided the subject as they'd eaten breakfast. Mr. Wilson had asked the hospital staff to kindly allow them a brief moment of normalcy. Later they had agreed with Edie's doctor that they would pursue a more aggressive course of treatment. Edie, the doctor had explained was an otherwise strong and healthy woman and could stand it. Edie could stand it, but Warren had been rapidly approaching the conclusion that he could not. The prospect of selling his store was just too much. While he'd held his wife's hand and listened to the doctor's explanations he'd been able to think only of his inability to explain to her his own decision. While they were calling their two sons to let them know that they weren't giving up hope, he'd imagined letting them know that he'd given up on the object of so many of his hopes. Warren's anguish had grown such that by the time Tom Harkin called on Wednesday he'd been more than prepared to give up his life savings for that call to never have come; but come it had. Tom had suggested that they meet over breakfast Thursday, but Warren couldn't wait that long. He'd offered, and Tom had agreed, to meet at the Warren a few hours later. So he'd kissed Edie goodnight, telling her that he needed to run to the shop and he would be back by morning. Warren had been meaning to sit down and talk in the deli, but seeing Tom he'd been unable to get any further than the sidewalk out front. Eyes down, but with firm resolve, he'd told Tom that he didn't think he could ever go through with selling the store he'd worked so hard to build. There had been a shouting match. At first it was mostly Tom questioning why Warren had even brought him out in the middle of the night if he'd only planned on turning him down. When Warren couldn't answer Tom had thrown the papers he'd brought into Warrens chest for effect. Warren had tried to explain why he wouldn't go through with the sale, to which Tom had responded by questioning how it could have taken Warren his entire life to accomplish something he'd done in a few years. Warren couldn't help himself. He'd told Tom exactly what he'd always thought of him: It had taken a sub-par businessman three years to break even with someone else's plan for a business that would never be the community institution that The Warren had become, and now he was going to mortgage his house to build a gas pump that would flourish not because of any business acumen, but because of simple proximity to the highway. Tom had stormed off down the alley next to the store telling Warren to give his best to Edie, but he could die a pauper for all Tom cared. Warren had gone after him to apologize, but that's when it had happened. As he'd placed his hand on Tom's shoulder to stop him Tom turned and shoved Warren backwards over the ledge of The Warren's recessed loading-dock. For a moment neither knew what had happened. Warren lay there looking up at Tom. Tom stared blankly down at the series of garden stakes the stock-boy hadn't bothered to throw away properly, now pin-cushioning Warren's abdomen. After the moment's shock had passed, and horror had set in, Tom turned and ran, leaving Warren alone with his dread and regret. Warren was unable to cry out in much more than a whisper as his lungs slowly filled with blood, but at some point he managed to fumble his way into his pocket for his flip-phone. He left a message that Edie wouldn't see until after the funeral, but before Tom's trial. She would awaken to the police bringing her the news of her husband's tragic death. Tom would turn himself in three days later. But that night it was just Warren and the empty silence that should have been filled by his wife's soft voice. He told her how he'd decided to sell the store to Tom, how he'd known that it was the right thing to do for her, but how it had eaten at him. In a flagging voice he'd explained how, in only two days, he'd found he couldn't live with the decision, how he'd argued with Tom. He'd insisted that none of this was her fault, or Tom's for that matter. He told her that she should sell The Warren and take the boys to Europe with her in his stead. There was something else that he needed to tell her but couldn't. Mercifully, as the rising tide of crimson filled his mouth and choked the breath from his words, the phone cut out and spared Mrs. Wilson hearing her husband's agonizing death-throes. Still, he never got to tell her the most important theme of the past week; Warren Wilson loved his wife . . . no one ever heard.

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