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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 2 months

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Never Say Never

Chapter 13

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 8.1K

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Steve stretched up on his toes, holding the banner in place so Jonathan could tape it across the threshold between the dining room and kitchen. Robin and Dustin were blowing up balloons in the living room while Nancy and Karen worked on the food in the kitchen. Ted was where he could always be found, leaned back in a recliner, watching television, oblivious to the fact that everybody was helping but him.

Honestly, Steve could not figure out how he and Karen were still together. He couldn’t figure out how they’d gotten together in the first place. Nancy said her mom saw stability with her dad but they were the oddest couple he’d ever seen. And that was saying something considering who his parents were.

Karen was just so vibrant, upbeat, and full of energy. She still went to jazzercise three times a week. Her and Nancy had run a marathon last summer. She was the first to offer to help or watch Jere when needed. Ted was so boring and completely useless. Whenever he opened his mouth, everyone just stared at him because he added nothing productive to the conversation even when he actually decided to join in. He’d never shared those views with Nancy, obviously, as that was her dad but he was pretty sure she felt the same way.

Mike and El were up in Jeremiah’s room, amusing the birthday boy with a round of Battleship while he anxiously awaited the arrival of his best friend. Jere had been systematically kicked out of every room in the house. He’d been kicked out of the kitchen after he’d knocked an entire tray of strawberries to the floor, causing Dustin to announce he could run to the store and grab more before Nancy had a meltdown. He’d then proceeded to pop six balloons as he karate chopped and kicked them as fast as Robin was filling them. By the eighth time of him asking Steve if it was time yet, Steve had practically begged the two of them to get him focused on anything else.

“So, Nancy told me your new girlfriend is coming to the party,” Jonathan commented with a sly smile, climbing down from the stepladder. He was sure Nancy had relayed everything Jere or Steve had told her the minute she heard it. “Must be getting pretty serious if you’re inviting her to Jere’s birthday and introducing her to Nance. You’ve never brought a girl around Jere so quickly before.” He stepped back to assess his work, high fiving Steve when they both deemed it good.

“I don’t know. I mean, yeah. I want it to be serious. It definitely seems like it might be serious. But Jere had already met her before we started dating so her being around him this quickly doesn’t really count. We met because she wanted to set up a playdate for the boys.”

“You two exclusive?”

“Yeah. We agreed on that last week,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You would have thought I was some fifteen year old boy who’s never talked to girls. I don’t know why I had such a hard time just asking her to be my girlfriend. I’ve never had a girl get me so tongue twisted before but I like her. I really like her, man. She’s pretty amazing.”

“Sounds like it. Jere says she’s your Lois Lane.”

“Of course he did. Always a superhero reference with that kid. But he’s not wrong. I don’t know. We haven’t known each other all that long but it just feels…different, somehow. I’ve been in a lot of relationships, you know. Like, a lot, a lot.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” snorted Jonathan. “We all started taking bets on how long each lady would last. I lost on Janet by a week. Lucas rubbed that one in my face for a while.”

“You guys take…seriously?” Steve groaned, his hand slipping over his mouth and jaw. Of course his friends would make his sad love life into a game. “Please tell me no one is doing that this time. The last thing I need is her hearing that my friends are placing wagers on how long we last. I’m pretty sure she already thinks I’m some kind of lady’s man.”

“Nah, man. No one’s doing that this time. For one, we haven’t even met her yet. It’s hard to judge before actually seeing the two of you together. And according to Robin and Dustin, they think this one might actually stick. If those two are saying that, then I have to believe it's possible. They’d be the first to call bullshit.”

“Trust me, Robin would have no problem calling it what it is. Hell, she wouldn’t even talk about it with all of you behind my back. She’d just tell me to my face. She told me Janet was crazy the same night she met her. She told me Jill was a narcissist after hanging out with her twice. She told me Heather was annoying and she’d never be able to put up with her if we stayed together. She told me Rachel was just using me to get back at her ex. She’s got everybody’s number from the moment she meets them. This is the first girl she actually hasn’t complained about.”

“At all?” Jonathan’s brows lifted in disbelief. “Hard to believe. Robin doesn’t seem to think anyone is good enough for you.”

“I mean, she was worried initially. She is a widow. Her husband was a Marine and he was killed in action. It happened two years ago and she hasn’t dated anyone since. Robin worried that maybe she would use me as her jumping board. You know, first relationship after losing her ex, a way to dip her toe into the waters. But after meeting her, she thinks she’s the real deal. The two of them have been getting along great, actually. They went out for dinner Wednesday night while I kept the boys.”

“Wow. Impressive. She approves and she wants to hang out with her. I’d say this girl has the Robin Buckley stamp of approval and I know how important that is.”

“Yeah,” snorted Steve, “kind of a necessity in my life.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet her.” He nodded his head toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna go check on Nance. Make sure she’s got it all under control with the food.” He lowered his voice, hand up by his mouth. “And make sure she’s not getting too high strung over a kid’s birthday party. None of us need high strung Nance.”

Steve laughed knowingly. Nancy was the one you wanted when it came to organization but she could also be a little Type A about it. And if you let her work up too much steam, there was no slowing her down. That’s why Jonathan was so good for her. He knew exactly how to handle her when she was chugging down that track just a little too fast.

As Jonathan walked away, Steve made his way to the living room. Robin and Dustin appeared to have a system going. He would fill the balloon with air from the tank and hand it to Robin, who was tying them off. They probably had thirty balloons at this point, all yellow and black in honor of the special visitor that would be arriving later.

“You know, that’s probably enough balloons,” Steve teased. “Too many more and this house is going to lift right off the ground.”

“Nance specifically said she wanted fifty balloons,” Dustin snapped, grabbing another from the pile. “So, we are giving her fifty balloons.”

“Why fifty?”

“I don’t know, Steve,” sighed Robin, giving him that exasperated look she always gave when she felt like he was asking a stupid question. It happened far more often than it should. “Why don’t you go ask the mother of your child why she requires fifty balloons.”

It was a challenge and they both knew it. Nance would be at maximum anxiety level right now. She was handling everything for the part and until everything was checked off her list, until it was all exactly how she planned, and the event itself had begun, it was better to steer clear. Questions would only lead to icy stares and a sharp tongue. He knew way better than to get in her way.

“Nope. I’m good. Stepping into Nance’s rage cloud is Jonathan’s job now. And he’s in there doing it as we speak. I’m just gonna stay out here, far away.”

“What time is the girlfriend arriving?” asked Dustin, grinning up at him.

Steve looked down at his watch, “About fifteen minutes or so. I told her the same time we told everyone else.”

“Who? Lucas, Max, Hop, Joyce, Will, and Nolan? Speaking of, how did they get out of helping while I’m stuck sitting here blowing up an insane amount of balloons?”

“Talk and fill!” Robin snapped at him. “We’ve got eighteen more balloons to go before everyone gets here.”

“It’s the gang!” argued Dustin. “Well, and Steve’s girlfriend. It’s the same people who are here all the time. Who is Nancy trying to impress? Your new girl? You think she’s going to walk in and go, this party is okay but you know what would really have made this party great? Eighteen more balloons.”

“Do you want to deal with the wrath of Nance when she counts and there’s not fifty? Because you know she’ll count.”

“Damn it. She will,” he huffed, placing another balloon over the pump. “Why is your ex so scary?”

Laughing, Steve shrugged, “You’ve known her longer than me. You tell me.”

The front door opened, Will stepping inside with Nolan right behind him, balancing three very large wrapped boxes in his arms. Steve ran forward to help, taking the top two from him.

“What the hell, man? Did you buy him stereo speakers or something?”

Will smiled, “No.”

“You had to get him three things?”

“He’s my nephew. Of course I had to get him three things.”

“It was going to be five things but I talked him down,” Nolan said, dropping the box he still had with the pile of growing presents that sat in the corner of the living room.

“I’m his favorite uncle and I intend to keep it that way.”

Dustin’s lips came together as he blew a big raspberry, “Whatever. We all know I’m his favorite.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble but neither of you hold a candle to me,” Robin stated, tying off the next balloon, putting them at thirty-eight.

“You’re not an uncle. You’re an aunt,” Dustin pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the favorite overall so that makes me the best.”

Steve shared a look with Nolan, both men rolling their eyes and shaking their heads. The truth was, Jeremiah adored everyone in his life and Steve would forever be grateful that he had so many people who loved him. Yeah. The pile of presents was large. But the support and devotion they all gave his son was more valuable than anything else.

Jeremiah had something that Steve never had growing up. He had a family. A family who cherished him, spent time with him, and supported him in everything he did. That kid had to have the biggest cheering section of anyone. The cheers were deafening when he walked across the stage at his Kindergarten graduation. His first baseball game was coming up in a couple weeks and Steve had no doubt that most of the people in this house would be in attendance to cheer him on.

“Will! Nolan!” Nancy squealed, exiting the kitchen, still looking picture perfect after hours of preparation for the party. She hugged each man in turn as if it had been months and not simply days, since she’d seen them last.

“Hey man.” Jonathan followed her, giving his brother and Nolan each a hug.

“Who’s manning the restaurant if you’re both here?” asked Dustin, remaining in his spot, dutifully filling the balloons until they reached fifty.

“Shelly is taking care of things for a few hours,” answered Nolan.

Will strolled into the living room, dropping down on the couch, “Yeah. She’s really been a lifesaver. It’s been nice having someone we can trust to handle things so we can actually both be off at the same time. You know, actually spending time with your husband really helps keep a marriage together. If she keeps doing such a good job, we might even consider taking a vacation.”

“We’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii,” Nolan added. “It seemed impossible but with Shelly, we might be able to do it.”

Will and Nolan were not legally married but everyone, including them, acted as if they were. They had a small ceremony in their backyard last year with just their closest friends and family. As far as Steve was concerned, they were married in all the ways that mattered. It was bullshit that the law wouldn’t recognize it. Steve had never seen a more positive example of what marriage should be.

Will had been so nervous to introduce them all to Nolan after they’d first met. He hadn’t told anyone that he was gay, yet. But it hadn’t been a huge surprise. Will, who’d never seemed interested in dating or girls. Will, who’d looked at Mike as if the sun shone on him since they were eleven. Yeah, they pretty much all knew. Steve was just happy he’d moved on from pining for something that was never going to happen and found someone who made him happy. There was nothing worse than pining for the wrong person. He knew. It was how he wound up married when Nancy came back.

The front door opened again, Hopper’s big voice booming through the house, “I hear we’ve got some kid in here who thinks it’s okay to keep growing and now he’s turning eight!”

“Shh!” Nancy chastised with a laugh, taking the gift bag from his hands to deposit it with the gifts. “Mike and El actually have him entertained right now. If he hears his Pops he is going to come running back down here.”

“So?” Hopper opened his arms wide. “The kid loves his Pops.”

“We all know he does but he’s been extremely underfoot,” Steve explained. “And he won’t stop asking when his friend, Eli, is getting here.”

“Eli? Eli with the pretty mom that you brought into the restaurant?” questioned Joyce, her lips curving up knowingly.

“Yeah, that Eli.”

“Oh, oh, oh!” Hopper bellowed, slapping Steve on the back. “You got a girl, kid? A girl who’s coming to your son’s birthday party? Sounds pretty serious! Why wasn’t I told about this?” He lifted an eyebrow at his wife.

“I just forgot to mention it,” shrugged Joyce. “Besides, you know now.”

“It is pretty serious,” Nancy smirked. “Steve is smitten. He gets all red in the cheeks when he talks about her.” She pinched his cheeks and he pulled his head away with a sigh.

“Seriously,” Robin snorted. “He’s like a little puppy who’s feet are too big, tripping all over himself whenever she’s around. It’s adorable, actually.” She tied off another balloon. “Fifty!” Holding up her hand, Dustin indulged her in a high five. “Jesus, that was a lot of balloons.”

“Great!” Nancy grinned. “Now we just need to tape them around the archway, along the table, and above the banner.”

Dustin groaned, head falling back against the couch, “Seriously? Nance, who are you trying to impress?”

“My son only turns eight once and I want it to be perfect. Now come on. We’ve only got a few minutes before Steve’s girlfriend and her son arrive and not long after that Batman will be here. I want this place birthday party perfect before Jere comes down.”

They all pitched in and with so many hands, they had the balloons affixed in no time with Nancy directing, of course, standing back, telling them where to place each one. In the midst of all the directing, grumbling, and complaining, Max and Lucas arrived, immediately being handed balloons and put to work.

Steve glanced over at the clock, edgy and tense when he saw that it was two minutes past the time he’d told you to be here. Had you decided not to come? Had the idea of meeting his ex been too much for you? He shook it off. He was being ridiculous. You'd never been here before. You probably just got lost or hit traffic or hell, maybe you had a hard time getting Eli out the door. He knew how easy it was to be late when you were managing a child.

A hand landed on his back and he glanced over to see Robin, “Calm down. I’m sure she’s coming. Not everybody is super punctual like your ex is.”

“I know, I know. I just…” His words cut off when your car pulled up out front, parking in front of a house across the street. “She’s here.”

____________________________________________________________

“Finally!” Eli dramatically cried from the backseat, throwing his hands in the air. You would have thought this drive took two hours instead of fifteen minutes the way he’d been moaning and complaining the entire time.

“Yes. We’re finally here.”

Unbuckling, you looked up at the cute little house that was your destination. The warm, welcoming brick home with brightly colored tulips in the garden should not be the most terrifying thing you'd ever seen. But your insides curdled as if this were a horror movie you were suddenly trapped in, doomed to face your inevitable demise.

Steve’s ex-wife was just there, right across the street. What was she going to think of you? Would she hate you on sight simply because you were the new woman? Would she be cold and nasty? Or even worse, would she be fake nice, that kind that was so sickly sweet it gave you a toothache even though you could hear the venom dripping underneath? What would she say to Steve after you left? Would her opinion convince him that dating you was a bad idea?

“Mommy! Don’t forget his present!” Eli yelled, unbuckling himself as you were stepping out of the car.

“I know, buddy. I got it.”

You popped the trunk, pulling out the small gift bag inside that featured Batman and Robin. Eli had begged to get Jeremiah the Diddy Kong Racing game for his Nintendo 64. It had been twenty-five dollars, a bit more than you'd planned on spending, but Eli had given you those big hopeful eyes and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

It was his best friend’s party and you usually kept the budget around ten dollars for stuff like that. But it was also your boyfriend’s kid’s birthday so you figured you should spend more. How much more, you had no idea. You didn’t want to go overboard. Then everyone would look at you like you were trying to buy your way in and that certainly wouldn’t go over well with the ex. But if you didn’t get something good enough they would all think you were cheap and didn’t care enough about Jeremiah.

In the end, Eli had made the decision for you. You could always laugh it off with how badly he’d insisted on that particular gift for his friend. You'd never been so stressed just picking out a birthday gift. But this was already a very tight knit circle and you were the outsider trying to find your place. You didn’t want to mess it up.

Taking Eli’s hand, the two of you made your way up the sidewalk. Your son bounced with anticipation while you trudged like you were heading to the gallows. The front door opened just as you reached the bottom of the stairs and Steve stepped out, the mere sight of him soothing some of your anxiety.

“Hey! You made it!”

He opened his arms wide and Eli ran straight into them for a hug, sending Steve off balance. He caught himself, hugging your son before wrapping an arm around you, pressing a light kiss to your lips. You didn’t miss the variety of faces all looking out the front windows at you.

“Hey! You stepped on my foot!”

“Stop pushing!”

“I was here first!”

“Would you give the poor kids some privacy? They’re not animals on display at the zoo!”

“Quiet! They’re gonna know we’re spying on them!”

“We already know! You guys are extremely loud!” Steve bellowed, rolling his eyes toward you. “Sorry about that. They’re all very excited that you’re here.”

“Oh…that’s nice.” You swallowed down the anxiety that was creeping up. No pressure or anything. “Sorry. Eli couldn’t decide which Batman shirt to wear and I am pretty sure he tried on every single one he owns before we finally made it out the door.”

“No worries. The Dark Knight doesn’t arrive for another twenty minutes or so. You made it in plenty of time.” He grinned down at Eli and then leaned in, his hand resting on your low back, thumb brushing soothingly as he whispered, “It’s going to be fine. If you couldn’t tell, they are all really excited that you are coming.”

A nervous smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you nodded, inhaling slowly through your nose. You could do this. The worst that could happen would be that Nancy would hate your guts. That would be something you would have to navigate but you could. Couldn’t you? Lots of people dealt with exes who weren’t fond of the new girls or guys in their lives. You'd just never imagined you would be one of them.

You'd barely stepped inside when a voice called out your name and then arms were wrapping around you in a welcoming embrace. Brown curly hair covered your vision as you returned the hug, a bit overwhelmed and shocked by it to do anything but reciprocate. When the bearer of the hug pulled back, you were looking into the face of a very pretty woman with stormy blue eyes and the cutest little button nose you'd ever seen.

“H…hi…” you stammered, realizing this must be the ex wife as she was the only woman in the room that you'd yet to meet.

“Hi! I’m so sorry to just bombard you like that but I’ve been dying to meet you. Steve and Jere have talked about you so much. I’m so glad you two could come today. Jeremiah has been asking about Eli non-stop. He’s going to be so excited you’re here.” She paused, laughing. “Sorry. I’m Nancy by the way, in case you didn’t already figure that out.” She leaned down to Eli’s level. “And you must be the famous Eli. I have definitely heard all about you.”

Eli beamed, proud to be so well known already, “Jeremiah is my very best friend in the whole world.”

“And you’re definitely his. My son is very lucky to have such a kind friend like you.” Nancy reached forward, ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you head upstairs? I’m sure you’ll be able to find his room. You’ll be able to hear them. Jere is playing games with his Uncle Mike and Aunt El. He’ll be so excited you’re here.”

Eli raced up the stairs, feet pounding loudly with excitement. You stood, a little taken aback. Nancy was nothing like what you'd expected or feared. She was so warm and welcoming. You might have wondered if it was all an act but the woman seemed as genuine as they came. She truly seemed excited that the two of you were there.

“So, Batman should be here in fifteen minutes or so. Would you like anything to drink?” offered Nancy.

“I’m okay. Is there anything I can help with?”

“I was just going to bring in the food from the kitchen if you want to help with that. Robin?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, pleased to be put to use. The last thing you wanted was to be left sitting or standing around awkwardly. You smiled at Steve as you followed Nancy into the kitchen, thinking this might not be near as awful as you thought. In fact, it might actually be fun.

____________________________________________________________

Two hours later, the adults were enjoying drinks on the front porch while the boys were systematically making their way through all of Jeremiah’s birthday gifts. They’d already roped Dustin, Mike, and Lucas into a game of Cranium, opened every single superhero figure he’d received and had an epic battle in Gotham City, annoyed everyone with a Furby that you were sure was actually a demon, and now they were taking turns with Jeremiah’s new scooter. One boy would ride it while the other ran after him and then they would swap.

Batman had been a hit, as if there’d been any doubt. Both boys had been absolutely starstruck when he’d swept into the house, announcing, “I am vengeance. I am the night. I am Batman. Now where’s this birthday boy?”

The college kid playing him had done an excellent job. He had the deep voice and the build for the superhero. He’d allowed the boys to use his grappling hook and his boomerang and set up a game where the adults were the villains and he and the boys had to stop them. Eli and Jeremiah had been giggling the entire time, especially when they got to tie up Steve with rope.

You leaned into Steve from your spot on the steps and he pressed a kiss to your temple, squeezing your shoulder gently. Nancy was grinning like a fool at you, something she’d been doing for most of the party. Contrary to your fears, the woman seemed truly happy for you. Robin was watching you too, a very satisfied smile sitting on her face, making you a bit nervous as it appeared she might be scheming. Given what Steve had told you about his best friend, it wouldn’t be out of character for her.

“You know, now that all of the introductions have been made and you are officially a part of our group, I think it’s about time we had a girl’s night so we can all get to know her a little better,” Robin announced.

“Yes!” El agreed brightly, looping her arm through Mike’s. “We haven’t had a girl’s night with all of us in forever.”

“Yeah, we need to know all your deep, dark secrets now that you’re one of us,” Max teased.

“Good grief,” grunted Hopper, standing on the sidewalk, a wreath of smoke around his head as he watched the boys. “You’re going to scare the poor girl off before Harrington even has a chance. Take it easy on her, girls.”

“Oh come on, Dad. We’re only teasing her,” El laughed with a roll of her eyes.

Lucas snorted, “She goes out with all of you and she’s going to be looking for the exit real fast.” He yelped when Max elbowed him. “Ouch! You know I’m right. I love you all but you can be a bit…much.”

“Much?” demanded Max, eyes wide. “Seriously, Lucas?”

He shrugged, ducking when Max made a swipe for the back of his head, and you had to swallow down your laugh.

“I think if you have a girl’s night, you should go to Brewed Awakening,” Karen sang, joining the crowd, two mugs of coffee in her hands, one of which she handed off to Joyce.

“Where’s Dad?” asked Nancy.

Karen harrumphed, “Do you even need to ask?”

“Snoring in my chair?” asked Jonathan knowingly and Karen pointed at him.

“Of course. Where else would he be?”

“Why should they go to the coffee place?” questioned Will.

“So one of them can finally get our Robin here to do what she’s been too scared to do for months,” Karen stated, patting the dark blond on the head.

“What’s that?” you asked curiously, leaning forward.

Robin glared at Nolan as he answered, “Robin has had a crush on the owner for months but she’s too chicken shit to actually make a move. Her excuse was that she wasn’t sure if she was into women but we have definitely confirmed that she is. In fact, multiple people in this group have confirmed that fact. So, now she has no reason besides her own cowardice.”

“Are you talking about June? I love June!” you stated. “I get my coffee from there all the time and she makes the most delicious sandwiches. I’d be happy to help you talk to her.”

“Talking to her is not my problem,” huffed Robin.

“Like hell it’s not,” argued Steve. “You trip all over your words whenever she’s around. I always do more of the talking while you stand there staring at your shoes, mumbling nonsense every few minutes.”

“Well…I mean, she’s so pretty. It’s hard for me to even look at her, let alone talk to her. I’m scared I’m going to just blurt out the wrong thing or keep talking when I should shut up. You know me. Even after I’ve said everything that I need to say, I just keep talking when I get nervous and she makes me nervous. That’s exactly what I did with Vickie so I figure maybe it’s better if I don’t talk.”

“So take the girls with you for backup,” Karen reasoned.

Joyce agreed. “Yeah. You’re always more confident when you have your support system with you. They can start the conversation and then maybe you’ll find a way to finally ask her out.”

“It took this guy six months to finally ask me out,” Nolan laughed, playfully jabbing his elbow into Will. “He kept coming into the restaurant where I worked and ordering stuff. I swear, the one day he was there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When he came back in right before closing to order dessert, I finally asked him if it was the food he was coming for or me.”

Will’s face flushed scarlet. “I mean…” He shrugged shyly. “Look at him.” He gestured to the very fit man next to him. “Who wouldn’t have trouble talking to him? I never thought some super toned, athletic guy would be interested in a nerdy string bean like me.”

“Oh, I love my nerdy string bean,” Nolan crooned, kissing him on the cheek. “Nothing gets me hotter than hearing you talk about hit points and campaign plans. Plus, you’re easy to toss around.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh gross,” Jonathan groaned. “I do not want to hear about my brother making anyone hot and I definitely don’t want to hear about him being tossed around.”

You laughed, resting your head on Steve’s shoulder as you observed the playful banter amid the group. It was so nice how easy they all flowed. It was effortless, like a family should be. After the upbringing Steve had, you were thankful he’d been able to find such a supportive group of people to surround himself with. You were glad that you could now call yourself a part of that too.

“So Lucas, you must be pretty relieved now that tax season is over,” you commented.

The guy groaned, “Oh my god, yes. Why in the hell do so many people wait until the last minute to file? I have been working twelve hour days for the last two weeks.”

“Because they don’t want to pay the corrupt government their bullshit money,” Dustin snorted. “I didn’t file until the last minute I had to.”

“Yeah,” glared Lucas, “I know. I thought I was finally done and in strolls this dipshit at 9:30 at night.”

Dustin shrugged, “Listen, I did what I am supposed to but there’s nothing that says I can’t do it right before it’s due. I did it the night before so the postmark would be the correct date. I followed the rules.”

The conversation flowed easily. Max filled everyone in as much as she could on the case she’d been working on for the last month. Hopper dropped a couple amusing stories about arrests and stops he’d made recently. Mike dropped a bomb, telling everyone he’d finally decided to submit his book to some publishing companies. You were amazed to see how effortlessly it was to be in the middle of this large group.

Your pocket buzzed, interrupting just as Karen was sharing a story about a seventy year old woman who was putting everyone else at Jazzercise to shame. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you sighed when you saw it was Justin’s mom, Judith.

“Can you all excuse me for a minute? I have to take this.”

Walking toward the side of the house, away from the group, you braced yourself before answering. It wasn’t that you hated Judith but Judith could be…difficult. It had taken a long time for her to accept you, struggling to believe that anyone could be good enough for her son. She acted as if you were stealing her boy away from her instead of including you as part of the family. It wasn’t until Eli arrived that she finally seemed to begrudgingly accept that you weren't going anywhere. But she’d never exactly been warm or friendly with you either.

And since Justin had passed it had just become more complicated to navigate a relationship with her. She called at least twice a week, questioning you like she was a hard nosed detective interrogating you, as if she didn’t believe you could possibly take care of her grandson alone. She’d offered to let you and Eli move in with her and her husband after Justin’s death and had taken your refusal as a personal affront. Ever since then, things had been even more dicey between the two of you than they had before.

“Hi Judith.” You pressed two fingers against your forehead, willing yourself to be as upbeat as possible because the woman would notice immediately if you had any kind of tone.

“Aly, hello. I was just calling to check in with that grandson of mine. Can you put him on the phone?”

“Actually, he’s busy right now.”

“Busy? What do you mean busy? What could a seven year old possibly have on his schedule that would be more important than talking to his grandmother?”

This was exactly the kind of thing that grated you. This was what you tried to ignore every time. This level of self-importance that Judith placed on herself. She couldn’t stand not being number one in Justin’s life anymore so now she was vying to be Eli’s number one. There was not a reality where she could imagine her being less important than something or someone else. What she failed to realize was that love should not be a hierarchy where people were valued more than others. You could love multiple people and they could all be important to you.

“We are at his best friend’s birthday party and he is riding scooters with him right now.”

“Oh, well I’m sure if you told him that I was on the phone he could take a break.”

“No Judith. I am not going to do that. He’s having fun. I don’t want to interrupt him right now. Besides, that would be quite rude to his friend. He’s here for his party.”

“It would only be a few minutes.”

“I will have him call you when we get home later. I am sure whatever you have to say can wait a couple more hours,” you stated firmly and then sighed, softening your tone. “Besides, then he can tell you all about the birthday party.”

“Oh! Well, that’s true.” You could hear it. Judith was convinced, tickled at the thought of her grandson wanting to share all the details of his life with her. “Okay. But make sure he calls me. Make sure you don’t forget.”

“I won’t.”

“Well, I know how you get, darling. I know being a single mother must be challenging but you should really find a system for writing things down. You’re so forgetful these days.”

Your neck rolled at the dig. The truth was you weren't forgetful. You chose to forget that Judith had called on occasion because you could only take so many minutes of listening to her list all the ways that you were failing. You could only handle her reminding you how she’d offered to take you and Eli in so many times. And if you didn’t occasionally forget about her, you feared you were going to lash out at her. And no matter how Judith grated your nerves, she was still your son’s grandmother.

“I promise I will have him call you.”

Keeping the goodbyes short, you flipped your phone shut, the harsh snap satisfying. Inhaling slowly, you rolled your shoulders, relaxing yourself. The last thing you needed was to head back up there tense and ruin everyone’s mood.

“Hey, everything okay?” Steve asked as you approached, his eyes lasering straight through you, seeing through the mask you were attempting to wear. His hand settled on your shoulder and you felt your body respond, each tense muscle slowly loosening under his touch.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. That was Eli’s grandmother. She just wanted to check in with him. I told her I would have him call her later after we got home.”

“Your mom?” asked Max with a tilt of her head.

“Uh…no…Justin’s mom, actually.”

Those eyes were burning into you even as you kept your gaze purposefully away from his. His hand trailed down your back, making slow circles through the fabric of your shirt, as if he could sense that you were on edge no matter how light you tried to keep your tone.

“Do they live around here?” inquired Nancy.

“No. They…they don’t.” Thank god they didn’t but you kept that particular thought in your own head. “They live over three hours away in Port Clinton, Ohio. It’s this city right by Lake Erie. We don’t really see them that much, honestly.”

“Oh. That must be hard for you two. Your parents aren’t close either, are they?” Nancy’s eyes were full of empathy, understanding from another mom. Most moms could at least envision how hard it would be to raise a child alone, empathize with the challenges. And really, for a while, until her and Jonathan got together, she had been doing it alone during the time she had Eli.

“No. They’re not. Even farther away actually, in Boston. But they usually fly out a couple times a year, around the holiday times. They…well…” You bit your lip, glancing up at Steve. You hadn’t dropped this particular bomb on him yet and this wasn’t really something you wanted to do in front of everyone. But you probably should, considering your mom had called two nights ago to tell you they booked flights for the week after school was out. “They're actually going to be visiting in about five weeks.”

“Well, that’s exciting!” beamed El. “Eli has to be happy.”

“Yeah. He is. They, well, they want to watch him play baseball. My dad is a huge Red Sox fan. He was even before they moved to Boston. I always tease him that that’s really why he wanted to move there. The job was just an excuse for him to be closer to his beloved team. And they…uh…they want to meet Steve, actually.”

Steve’s eyebrows lifted and your stomach clenched. Maybe this was all moving too fast. You'd barely been together and now you were asking him to meet your parents. Would this scare him off? For all the talking you'd done about taking it slow, the two of you seemed to be going from zero to eighty in a matter of seconds.

“You know, I can just tell them you’re out of town for work or something when they come,” you rushed to add. “My mom, while I love her, can be a bit much. The minute she found out I was dating somebody she was talking about a visit. I mean, she’s going to love you. She loves everybody but I know it’s really soon for all of that. It’s crazy, right? It’s not like we’re sixteen and you have to meet my parents before taking me out.”

Robin’s eyes went wide. “Damn. And I thought I rambled when I was nervous.”

Steve shot a glare her way and she held up her hands, leaning back against the post. “No. It’s fine. I’d love to meet your parents. Besides…” He paused, grinning, “...parents love me.”

“Its true.” Karen nodded. “I’ve adored him from the moment he walked through my door. I still love him even though he divorced my daughter.”

“But you got me in exchange,” teased Jonathan.

“That’s true.” She patted his shoulder. “And we love you too.”

“You really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you told him. “I don’t want you feeling obligated or anything.”

“I don’t feel obligated. They can come to a game. I can cookout one day over at my place. In fact, let’s take them to Sage and Salt one night for a nice dinner.”

“Oh yeah!” Nolan agreed. “I will whip up some of my best dishes for your folks.”

“They will get the VIP treatment,” Will promised. “We’ll pull out all the stops for them.”

Joyce placed her hands on her youngest’s shoulders, “Will and Nolan will take really good care of them. And you’re not going to find better food in the whole town. Of course, I might be just a tad biased.”

“Maybe just a bit,” chuckled Will.

“You’re sure?” you asked Steve.

“Of course I’m sure. I can’t wait to meet the people who are responsible for you coming into this world.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead. “Now I can thank them personally for making one of my favorite people I’ve ever met.”

“Oh my god,” gagged Dustin. “You guys are so sweet it’s sickening.”

“Don’t be jealous just because you don’t have anyone,” Mike mocked, slugging him lightly in the shoulder.

“You know, Dustin, there’s this girl at my work who…” Max began before Dustin cut her off.

“No. No. Absolutely not. Turn around and walk away with that thought right now. I am not going on any more dates that any of you set up for me. The last three have been a disaster. You’d think you don’t know me at all with the girls you try to set me up with.”

“Okay, even I will admit that Tammy wasn’t the best choice, but…,” Lucas admitted.

“But nothing! She was so self-involved. She kept pulling out her compact mirror to check her lipstick every five minutes. And every time I asked her a question or said anything, she said huh?” He opened his mouth wide, his eyes going glassy, clearly doing an impression of the girl. “She couldn’t even hold a simple conversation. And she kept talking about Devon Sawa.”

“I mean…” El shrugged. “He is pretty conversation worthy. Have you seen Wild America?”

Dustin’s eyes rolled up into his head as he gave a loud snort, “And Patricia! Are you kidding me? She told me she didn’t believe in dinosaurs and that fossils were planted by the devil to lure us away from God. You really thought I would mesh well with a girl who doesn’t believe in basic scientific facts?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t hook you up with either of them,” Max shot back. “Tammy was all Lucas and Patricia was all Robin.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know she was such a Jesus nut,” Robin defended. “I met her at the bookstore and she was standing in the Science Fiction section. I thought she’d be exactly your type.”

“The Science Fiction section that is right next to the Religion section?” demanded Dustin. “Did you even glance at the books that were in her arms because I guarantee you there was nothing there written by Dan Simmons or Connie Willis. But there was probably something written by men who claimed God spoke to them.”

“She didn’t have any books in her hands and you were so sad then. It had been months and you were still moping around about Suzie. I just thought going out with someone new might take your mind off of it or at least break you in a bit so you’d be ready to go out with someone new.”

“I was not moping!”

Steve guffawed loudly, “Oh yes you were. I found you laying in your bed, listening to Don’t Speak on repeat.”

“Whatever,” huffed Dustin. “The point is, I have learned my lesson. None of you are hooking me up with anyone ever again. I am more than capable of finding my own dates, thank you.”

“How about me?” you asked and they all turned to look at you. You smiled nervously, shrugging. “I mean, I’m not part of the group.”

“Oh, yes you are,” Mike stated. “Look, you’ve declared your relationship status with Steve. You’re even taking the step of introducing him to your parents. You have solidified yourself as a member of the group now.”

“Yeah,” agreed Lucas. “And I’m sorry to say, once you’re in there is no getting out. So, you’re stuck now.”

“It’s true,” Nolan shrugged. “Trust me. Once you’ve been inducted into the group there is no escape.”

Who were these people? Most people would be suspicious of a newcomer, or at least a little cautious, maybe a tad reserved until they got to know them but not them. They just accepted you. Steve was dating you so you were okay with them. Honestly, the way they just enfolded you into their group left you feeling so warm and fuzzy, like a sweater straight out of the dryer that just wrapped comfortably around your skin.

“Be that as it may, and for the record, I am perfectly okay with that seeing as I have no intention of trying to escape, I haven’t always been a part of this group. So you have no idea how my matchmaking skills are. And there’s this new nurse at my work. Her name is Heather and she’s really cute. Blond curls, gray blue eyes, adorable glasses…and she is totally into all that science stuff. I saw her reading "Neverwhere” the other day on her lunch.”

“A Gaiman fan, huh?” Dustin’s thumb and forefinger came to his chin, considering. Oh yeah, she had him interested. “That might have potential. How old is she?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Okay. What was she eating for lunch?”

“Why does that matter?” you laughed.

“Because it does. What was she eating?”

“A bologna sandwich, potato chips, and oreos.”

“Good taste in lunch food, too. Alright. I’ll tell you what. Since I don’t know you that well and you’ve never hooked me up with anyone, I will give you a shot. But just one. If this date goes sideways, no one…and I mean no one who is standing here right now gets to try to set me up ever again.”

“To be fair, I’ve never gotten a turn,” Joyce stated.

“Mama Joyce, while I love you with all the depth of the ocean blue, no thank you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re sweet. You’re kind. You’re everything a mother should be and for all intents and purposes, you’re all of our mothers. But you married Hopper so I’m not entirely sure of your judgement skills.”

“Hey…what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Hopper blurted, folding his arms over his chest.

“I mean, come on Hop. We love you but…it’s like she married Smokey the Bear.”

“Oh yeah? Come here, kid!” He lunged off the porch and Dustin shrieked, darting away from him through the grass.

Your initial fear for the guy dissipated when you noticed they were both laughing. Hopper grabbed onto Dustin, placing him in a headlock and rubbing his fist over the top of his head. Eli and Jeremiah noticed the commotion, Eli jumping off the scooter mid-roll, the new toy dropping to the grass.

“Uncle Dusty! I’ll help you!” Jere cried, racing for Hopper and wrapping his arms and legs around one of the big guy’s.

“I’ll help too!” Eli yelled, wrapping around the other one.

“Oh yeah? Think you can pin me down?” Hopper growled playfully, releasing Dustin. He lifted one foot and then the other, both boys giggling gleefully as he walked slowly around the front yard. “You can’t stop me!”

Steve’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. You leaned into the solidness of him, watching with amusement as the boys released Hopper’s legs and ran at him. The big man dramatically fell to the ground with a loud roar. Mike and Dustin immediately leapt on him, the boys jumping on each of them, and Hopper bellowed loudly.

“See? You both fit right in,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your ear. “You belong right here with all of us.”

Yeah. It really seemed like maybe you did.

Chapter 14

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Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. ❤️❤️❤️

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undercoverwizardfanfiction · 2 years

Text

Title: Glass Shell

Verse: ROTTMNT

Summary: Afterall, aren’t we all in various stages of falling apart?

Characters: Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael

Pairings:

Warnings: PTSD, meltdown, nightmares, past trauma

@hoshisoul and @soldierofsirens thank you both :)

Being a record-breaking insomniac, Leo is always finicky if he wakes up before he’s ready. Normally the process includes twelve alarms, turning off the heated blanket he had started using for the top half of his body and the slightly warmer second heated blanket he used for the bottom half and letting nature do its work (if he’s lucky, he’d be up by noon). What he doesn’t like is having an empty bag dropped entirely on his face. For a moment all he can do was shoot up in a sitting position and swipe at his face furiously till he’s able to catch it and pull it off. He pushes up his eye mask and rubs at his face as he reads the bag.

“Naturally sourced fair trade premium coffee beans?” He looks up to his assailant. “Raph, I keep telling you coffee is a gateway drug and our grocery bills can’t afford another caffeine addict—”

“That's not—no, I don’t have the physical strength to fight Donnie for coffee every morning,” Raph says with a shake of his head, as though the very thought of it was enough to give him nightmares. “No, I wanted to talk to you, ’cause I think something might be happening and I’m not sure. I’ve been wrong in the past; I’ve made things worse in the past—” Raph starts tapping his forefingers as his talking speeds up. “And—and I don't want to overstep, but I can't stop thinking about it and—and I thought I’d come to you since you’re better about this—”

“Buddy, buddy, you’re at a 10 right now, I need you to be at a 3,” Leo pulls his water jug off his bedside and takes a sip. “Maybe a 2. “

Raph's face twists up in frustration, but he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths and opens his eyes again. He starts pacing across the small space between Leo’s bed and the door, gesturing with his hands.

“OK, so we got groceries two days ago. I remember because you always buy an extra three boxes of cookies. One for dipping into sour cream while you shop, one for Pops so he doesn’t eat your cookies, and one for the drive home, ’cause, and I quote: ‘I just did my chore for the week and I deserve this.’” Raph pauses and looks at him. “You know, how you’re still alive is beyond me.”

“Pizza Supreme in the Sky wouldn’t gift me to the world and take me away so easy.'' Leo grins. Now that he’s waking up more, he stretches out his arms and legs in almost a catlike manner and yawns. “OK, OK, so we went grocery shopping. So what?”

“So, every week Donnie gets four large bags of overpriced coffee from that vegan store on the other side of town because the one we used to go to banned you both.”

“We’ve been over this. If they didn’t want us to ride a robot bear through their vegan honey aisle they should have put up a sign—”

“—SO I went to throw it in the recycling bin. And I saw there were already, like, four bags in there. That doesn’t seem healthy.”

Ah, worried big brother Raph is a classic. Leo can’t help but smile and reach out, wrapping his smaller hand around Raphs larger finger, which instinctively wraps around his.

“OK, OK, big guy, come here. Come listen to Wisonardo.” He manages to scoot over to let Raph sit down next to him before he gets up on his knees and starts kneading his shoulder. But upon realizing his fingers didn’t have the strength to make a difference, he switches to his elbows. “I know you love to worry. It’s your favorite thing to do other than collecting Teddy Bear Town coupons and anxiety. And the fact you haven't been hovering over him is great and I’m proud of you… I mean yeah, that much coffee would kill a T-Rex. But Donnie—'' Four bags was a lot of coffee, was he not sleeping at all? “That is a lot for him, but we’ve all been going through a lot with the Invasion, and I think this is just how he’s coping. I think.”

He was trying not to think about how he noticed the coffee pot had gone missing from the kitchen. Which meant either Donnie had broken the three he kept in his lab, or he had all four going off at once to ensure he didn't go a second without coffee. Out of the two options he wasn’t sure what was worse.

“So right now, we just need to give him his space. If something was really wrong my twin senses would have gone off—”

The sound of shattering glass fills the lair, and in a fit of panic, he vaults over Raph’s head. ”Nope, never mind, bad things are happening!” he says as he bursts out of his room. Leo turns so fast his feet slip under him, but he manages to right himself and run towards Don's lab.

“Donnie?” he calls out. Please let it just be an accident. Donnie’s hands were probably just slippery or he saw a spider or Webster changed the spelling of “theater” again. But as he turns around the corner, he sees pieces of a broken beaker on the floor outside his room, and a moment later a large monitor joins it, shattering and scattering across the floor.

“Donnie?” he calls out again. He runs and throws the curtains back.

Oh no.

The first thing he sees is Donnie, his tech shell to him. Before he can feel relief that he’s not hurt, he sees Donnie’s room, which, ever since they moved in, contained carefully stacked boxes all around the room's edge with the only real furniture being a desk. Now the boxes have fallen around the room with electronics and harddrives spilling out over the floor. Donnie has already grabbed a computer tower and has started raising it up over his head.

Despite years of knowing better, Leo lunges forward and wraps his arms around Donnie’s torso, trapping his arms and yanking back hard. The sudden movement causes Donnie to lose his grip on the tower and drop it back to the ground.

”Donnie, stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“Let me go!” Donnie shouts, thrashing around. Had it been any other turtle, Leo would have found it impossible to restrain him (Raph was Raph and Mikey was a hellion who once Kool Aid Man'd through a wall to avoid getting a tetanus shot), but he manages to lock Donnie in place by gripping his opposite wrist in a wrestling move Raph taught him.

Raph is by his side a moment later with wide, panicked eyes, looking from the ransacked lab to their brother.

“What happened! What's going on?!”

“I got him, I got him!” says Leo, even though it probably doesn’t look like that. Right now Leo’s highest priority is getting Donnie out of that room, but Raph is already hovering too close. “I said I got him. Make sure nothing is broken in here, OK? Please?” he begs.

Leo doesn’t bother to wait for an answer as he drags Donnie out of the room as best he can with Donnie’s thrashing. Before he can think of where to go, his foot catches a broken piece of monitor and the two hit the ground. Leo’s other arm instinctively covers Don’s head to keep it from hitting the concrete. Before Donnie can take advantage of his fall, he continues clinging to him as tight as he can, whispering through gritted teeth, “It’s OK, it’s OK,” as his eyes burn with tears. He presses his face into the back of Don’s neck. “It’s OK.”

After what feels like an eternity, but in reality is only a few moments, Donnie seems to understand Leo isn’t releasing him anytime soon. Slowly, his thrashing becomes weaker and the fist he had been using to pry Leo’s arm off him falls limp. There’s a small tremble that makes Leo think he’s mustering up strength to go another round before he begins to weep softly.

Leo lets out a sigh of relief. He loosens his grip for a moment to test if Donnie will take advantage and try to pull away. He lacks either the energy or the will to try anything. So Leo reaches up and grabs at the ground and heaves the two of them up into a sitting position, careful not to jostle him too much.

He checks to make sure they’re not caught on any of the wreckage before he reaffirms his other arm around him, holding him just as tight as before, but trying to comfort rather than restrain. He presses their temples together gently as he uses his thumb to stroke the back of his head.

“I gotcha buddy, just breathe,” he says softly. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Raph exit Don’s bedroom with a less-than-promising look on his face. Leo guides Don’s head so he can rest his chin on his scalp and looks at Raph. “How bad is it?”

“The surface was pretty badly cracked, but it might still work? I’m not exactly an expert,” he says, looking at Don.

Leo knows all he wants to do is check on him and find out what happened, but Leo shakes his head with a sympathetic expression on his face. Donnie doesn’t need to be bombarded with questions and he hopes that Raph will understand. Their older brother holds his gaze a moment later and, after a soft sigh, he nods.

“I’m….going to start cleaning up. Let me know if you need me…” he says, looking at them a moment longer and then walking away.

Leo is going to have to find some way to thank him later. He knows how hard it is for Raph to walk away, which is just another reason Leo knows Raph’s real strength has nothing to do with his physical form.

“I’m really proud of him,” he whispers to Donnie.

For the next several minutes, Leo simply holds his brother and rocks him. He does what he can to support him emotionally and physically as he weeps softly. But eventually, he feels Donatello stop trembling. Leo loosens his grip for a moment to test his reaction. But either Don has no reason to get free or he’s too exhausted to do so—he doesn’t know which, and isn’t sure if one would be worse than the other.

“Hey, Raph,” he calls softly. Raph ducks out of Don’s room a moment later. “Did you see if Donnie has his new bed set up yet?” When Raph shakes his head sadly, Leo lets out a small sigh.

“Oh, bud.” He holds Don a inch tighter to him. “I get it, I do,” he whispers, He looks back to Raph. “Can you help us real fast? Let's get him to my room so he can get some sleep.”

Raph’s eyes lit up, grateful to be of some help. He nods and kneels down. He holds his hand up, then hesitates. “It-It’s ok? I don’t want to mess up again—”

“Raph, it's OK. Please.” Leo gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, undermined by the fact that his lips can’t stop trembling.

But it has the intended effect. Raph nods. “Ok, let's go.”

Between the two of them they are able to lift Donnie to his feet. Raph has a careful grip on his shoulders that tells Leo he’s considering just picking him up, but Leo catches his eyes and shakes his head. Raph thankfully respects his wishes, but stays close as Leo pulls Don’s arm over his neck. Again, he tests to see if Donnie would rather walk on his own, but the softshell leans against him with his free hand wiping at his eyes. He’s grateful for Raph staying close as he helps Don to his bedroom, even more so when he pulls the covers back.

“Thanks, man,” he whispers over his shoulder as he guides Donnie closer. He’s unsure how to help him get into bed without manhandling him, but Donnie simply flops over on the bed and curls up in a little ball. Leo does a look-over for injury and spots a large bruise forming on his left bicep, but after a quick panic, reminds himself it would be impossible for Donnie to give himself that sort of bruise. But as Raph pulls the covers over him, he notices Don’s hands hanging over the side and that his fingers and gloves are covered in a brown liquid.

“I’m going to take these off for you, OK?” he says. He takes the gloves by the bottoms and peels them off as gently as he can, watching Don’s sleeping face in case he has any protest as Leo reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a container of unscented hand wipes. He looks over his shoulder to Raph as he bundles a bunch of wipes into his hands. “He can’t stand to have things sticking to his hands. It stresses him out,” he explains. Leo’s not sure he’s done a satisfactory job, so he sets the wipes by the bedside.

“In case you need them, bud.”

He considers going and getting one of the duffel bags Mikey has in his room, but decides against it, as Donnie is already asleep. The only consolation is that the tears streaming down his face have finally stopped, and Leo can only assume he’s sleeping well. He bunches his hoodie sleeve into his fist and carefully wipes off Don’s face and stands up hesitating a moment longer to turn the dial on Don’s headphones to noise canceling mode as gently as he can without waking him.

He turns to Raph and gestures nothing we can do now; let him rest.

“Y—yeah, OK.” Raph looks back at Donnie but Leo takes him by the arm and helps him out. Leo looks back to make sure Donnie is actually asleep before he squeezes his arm gently.

“Hey, you did so well, Big Guy. I’m proud of you.”

“Did I? He was so out of it and—and I didn’t do anything. You did more than I did—”

“You didn’t overcrowd him, you didn’t barrage him with a thousand questions. You listened, I—I—” Now that they’re out of his bedroom, he lets his voice crack as he drops Raphs arm. He presses the palms of his hands to his now-burning eyes. “I—I’ve never had to restrain him like that before. I was so scared he was going to hurt himself and I—I—” His voice cracks again and this time Leo feels Raph put a hand on his shell and guide him into a tight protective hug. Despite himself, he gratefully leans against his brother and hugs him back just as tightly. He allows himself a few moments of comfort before he pulls away and wipes at his eyes again.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he says, fluttering his hands, and he takes several deep breaths. He can feel Raph giving him the same look he had given Donnie.

“You look beat, man. Do you want to crash in my room for a bit?”

“No, not right now. Donnie’s stressed ’cause he has too much work to do. He’s had to rebuild our home three times now; the least we can do is pick up his bedroom.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds like a plan. Should we call Dad? He’d want to know.”

“He would, but he’s at Mikeys’ appointment and I don't want to worry him. We’ll let him know when they get back.” He looks at Raph. Even though the snapping turtle was no longer the leader, he still sought his opinion on certain situations. After a moment of eye contact, Raph nods.

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll grab another dustpan and then we’ll get to work.”

Leo takes a moment and looks back to the room where his brother is currently sleeping off the worst meltdown he has ever seen. The fluttering returns to his hands as he shakes out his hands and takes another deep breath before heading to Donnie’s wrecked room.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Cleaning had never been Leo’s strong suit; helping, even less so. But with Raph’s guidance, the two are able to clean up the disassembled room that had been assigned to Donnie. Now that things are being cleaned up, he can see the shattered remains of two coffee pots and a broken mug with dried coffee under one of the fallen stacks. Leo doesn’t point it out to Raph. He doesn’t want to brainstorm over what happened here; his anxiety would only think of the worst-case scenario and do no one any good. But he takes note of it as he cleans up. Even with the help, it takes a few hours to get anything back into respectable order. Nowhere near as organized as Donnie had been (there were no sub-subcategories or codes), but hopefully done well enough so that Donnie wouldn’t be stressed out.

“Ugh, I can’t believe Splinter expects us to do this more than once a year,” Leo grumbles as he stands up straight, shaking the dust from their labor off his hands.

Raph looks at him with a big smirk that Leo hadn’t realized he missed. “If you cleaned more than once a year it wouldn’t be hard to clean.”

“UGH. NO. I REFUSE! That’s for ugly people!” he says with an overly dramatic scoff that does the intended job of making Raph laugh. His older brother reaches over and takes his shoulders from behind, digging his thumbs into his shoulders.

“Alright, your highness, let's get out of here before you break into hives.”

“Ow, ow! Spiky fingers, spiky fingers!!!” He squirms to free himself, but Raph guides him out of the room. Leo twists free and sticks his tongue out at him at a safe distance, which does nothing other than make Raph laugh harder. “OK, you brute, for a job well done, I think we deserve ice cream,” he says. Without waiting, he skips back over to the kitchen. He’s already imagining what kind of cottage cheese he’s going to add to his ice cream as he pulls the freezer door open. The cold breeze barely reached his finger tips before he freezes up.

Endless darkness.

His body ached from hours and hours of battle and now rested against a large rock. It was the closest he had come to rest in close to twelve hours. Through bleary eyes, he saw a large form, forged from metal he couldn't even imagine. It caused the very ground beneath him to tremble with each step. Its laughs were as dark as the void around him.

“My wrath shall be reserved for you and you alone.”

Leo jumps back and slams the freezer door shut. He throws himself back as far back as he can until his shell hits the kitchen table, causing it to slide back several inches. He looks at the fridge as though he expected the cold to break free and drag him in with it.

The cold always made it worse.

The cold always consumed him.

The sound of Raph’s footsteps reaches him and he barely has time to stand back up and calm his exterior before he enters.

“What’s up? What kind of ice cream are we eating?”

“Um, ACTUALLY, how about we eat some real food? I forgot I have a cavity so I have to chillax on the ice cream,” he says, hoping Raph doesn’t remember he considers cavities to be achievements, but after giving him a quizzical expression, Raph looks back out into the Lair. Confused, Leo goes to join him, but realizes what, or who, Raph is looking for.

“Looks like Splinter and Mikey decided to go shopping after their appointment.” Leo leans in the doorway by him.

“If they went to Sparkling Sterling Sporks, then we might not see them again for a week,” Raph says with a smirk, but Leo watches Raph’s gaze go back to his subway car. For a moment he’s scared that Raph will just go over, but his older brother takes a deep breath. “OK, Lee, I’ll follow your lead on this. What should we do next?”

Leo isn’t sure how many more times he can tell Raph he’s proud of him before it loses meaning. Instead, he gives him a supportive squeeze on the arm.

“I’ll check on him if he’s still asleep. I don't want to wake him. Mikey made a giant pot of french onion soup; can you heat some up? It's one of Don's favorites and maybe it’ll help him feel better.”

“No coffee?”

“God no, but if you could rush order some coffee beans and a new coffee maker for tomorrow, that’d be great. If he finds out he’s all out he’s going to murder us all without mercy.”

Raph breaks out into another smile but it falls into a moment of Oh shit, he’s right as he turns and books it back to the kitchen with his phone up, typing furiously. Leo can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. Laughing again feels really good; it feels like he hasn't laughed since the Invasion, unless it was for show. He makes his way back towards the subway car. After a moment to steel himself, he presses his palm to his bedroom door. He had only intended to peek, but after a glimpse his eyes widen and he throws the door open.

The bed is empty.

“Donnie?!” he calls, looking around. There isn’t really a space to hide in his room but he has to make sure Donnie isn’t sitting in a corner out of sight. “Dee? Alone time is fine but knowing you’re OK is even cooler??” He hurries out into the main living space and does a quick 360 to make sure Donnie isn’t hanging out in the arcade or wandering around with a broken coffee pot for his first victim.

There is none.

There is nothing.

Leo turns to run to the kitchen before skidding to a stop and he flutters his hands angrily by his head. “Calm down, calm down, it’s OK, it’s OK. Panicking isn’t going to help anyone. Donnie is capable and fine,” he reminds himself. He blows out air between his lips and, with one final angry flap, stills his hands. He manages to calm his exterior and goes to the kitchen, hoping Donnie wandered in in the ten seconds he was gone. He feels his heart drop when he only sees Raph at the stove, who gives him a confused look.

“Leo? Donnie ok?”

“Um, yeah, yeah.” His hands tremble again as he does one more look around the room. “I mean, yeah, I think he is. He’s not here. And—and he’s not in the Lair.”

“Wh—what do you mean?” A surge of panic fills Raph's eyes that Leo has been expecting since they first heard the glass break. “He’s not here? Did he run away—”

“No, no, I don't think that.” Leo has to bring his hands up again and stims a little. He has to calm down, separate the panic from the truth. “No. Donnie doesn’t run away, he sulks and pouts. He only runs away dramatically after we’ve binge-watched the first twenty-three seasons of Lou Jitsu in Lou Jitsu and his Shakes-Pearean Wedding to MilkShakespeare.” Deep breath, deep breath. “We were cleaning for a while,”—he has to be logical—“He might have just needed some air and walked out without telling us.” Leo pulls out his phone and, not for the first time, he prays that Donnie secretly installed his turtle tracker on his phone. But as he struggles to pull up any apps through burning eyes, all he can see is Donnie's wrecked bedroom, one that was done after a terrible night at the Yokai Mart which felt like a lifetime ago and now, in a Lair that didn't feel like home, the feeling of Donnie thrashing against him before breaking down and weeping in his arms.

He pauses.

He realizes.

Leo takes a deep breath and puts his phone (one more wrong password from being locked out) back in his belt. He closes his eyes and makes eye contact with Raph, who's looking at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I think I know where he’s at,” he starts carefully, with less confidence than he’s trying to exude. “I—I’m going to go check real fast, but it might take me a bit to get there.”

“You—” Raph pauses, “You don't want me to come with you, do you?”

“No, bud—” it's hard for Leo to watch Raph’s eyes fall to the ground, filled with frustrated tears. “Hey, hey.” Leo steps forward and, in the same way he did with Donnie, puts a hand on the back of Raph’s head and puts their temples together. “You’re a turtle of action. You do an amazing job keeping us safe. And I know it doesn’t seem like it now. But this? This is helping a ton. I wouldn’t have been able to help Donnie like I did without you. But I need you to stay here in case Donnie comes back.”

After a breath, Raph looks at him again and, though a tear runs down his face. He gives a shaky smile and a nod that Leo makes sure to return.

“That’s my man. Keep the soup warm, and if Dad gets back before us, just tell him the truth, but don't say anything before they get back. He and Mikey are having fun and if anyone deserves that, it's them.” He releases Raph. He hurries to Mikey’s room long enough to grab a duffel bag with a piece of purple duct tape wrapped around the handle (alongside a few others with different color markings), returns to the kitchen, and stuffs a few more items from around the kitchen into his bag. Leo makes sure to give Raph one more encouraging smile. As he walks out of the lair, he looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s far enough away before he secures the duffel bag to his shell and breaks into a dead run.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It's not until Leo’s almost to the lair that the terrain gets treacherous. Splinter and Draxum never talked about how the Battle with Shredder went down, but it wrecked everything underground for almost a two-mile radius. And in the times they returned to their former home to collect any resources that had survived, Mikey would always cling to someone's arm with a death grip until they left again. The youngest of them had been the only one brave enough to manifest how it had felt to come back to their ruined home.

Because of the momentum from running, Leo’s able to easily vault over several broken slabs of concrete, jump over wide gaps in the ground that revealed sewer tunnels underneath, and walk through the makeshift tunnel they had dug out to make treks to their old home easier. It takes him a minute to shimmy though until he finds himself doubling over, gasping for air in the wrecked remains of their childhood home.

Like every time he's visited, he freezes for a moment with his breath caught in his chest. He reaches a trembling hand up and feels his mask tails. He can still remember the jerk from when Shredder nearly cut his head off. The panic as he watched their home cave in around them, feeling powerless. Helpless.

He remembers how close they came to becoming memories.

He remembers how close they came to becoming memories since then.

He shakes out his trembling hands and moves through the lair. At this point in time, because of the open water pipes and gathering moisture, algae and grass have begun to replace their presence here (which, in a way, was a blessing if anyone ever came down to fix the pipes). But the only remaining color comes from the still hanging torn purple curtain that Donnie had refused to take with him. He hovers at the entrance for a moment; he knows better than anyone how overbearing he can be and he will never quite forgive himself for how he reacted during the Yokai Mart incident. But he knows better now, he hopes. He raises his hand and knocks gently on the frame of the opening.

“Dee? It's me. Is it OK if I come in and hang out for a bit?” he asks, fully knowing there’s a good chance Donnie isn’t there and, even if he is, he isn’t sure what to expect as a response. But Leo watches the curtain twitch for a moment, as though someone is trying to pull it open without having the energy to do so. Leo grips the straps of his duffel bag tighter before ducking in.

Most of Don’s room had caved in during the attack, leaving the only viable sitting spot directly by the entrance where Leo sees him, curled up with his face in his knees. If he hadn’t seen Donnie try to pull the curtain open he would’ve thought he had simply fallen asleep again. He does a quick look-over to check for injury, but other than the large bruise on his bicep that has now fully formed against his sea-green skin, he's grateful to find nothing new. He looks around for a place to sit before deciding to sit by his side, giving him enough space that he hopes will help him feel comfortable. Now that he knows where Donnie is, he could relax and let out a deep breath, sinking down to give his now aching body a break.

For a moment he's satisfied with just sitting there, catching his breath. But out of the corner of his eye he watches Donnie for any sudden movements or signs that he wants Leo to leave. But he waits a bit before he speaks, until he knows it won't be hindered by his gasping breath.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Donnie’s voice is so quiet, he isn’t sure he hears him at first.

“I could say I’m a great detective. But I know you’d want to be somewhere no one would look for you…” He looks around the room, catching sight of a pile of rubble that had been moved recently, as though someone had moved things around to lay down. “How often do you come here now?” He sees Donnie flinch out of the corner of his eye and he knows he’s hit on a truth.

“A little? At first, just after the Invasion ’cause I needed to be somewhere to breathe, then a few days a week, then every night when everyone went to bed. I needed to be somewhere I could scream and shout without anyone coming running. I just.” He blinks hard. “I just wanted to go home.”

Leo has to look away to keep his eyes from welling up again, trying not to think about how many nights Donnie spent in this wreckage, not just for his mental health. But looking around, he’s reminded how unstable the wreckage is. If Donnie had hit his head, or fallen, how long would it have been before anyone had noticed? Or would they have just woken up one day and thought Donnie had run away? A thousand new nightmares vie for his attention, but he manages to take a deep breath and blink back tears of panic by reaching for the duffel bag.

“I brought it along in case it might help.”

“Unless there's a new coffee maker and ten-gallon thermos, I doubt it.”

“No, but there is water.” Leo can't help but smirk. “Before you murder me and feed me to your robotic worms, I know you haven't had any liquid that hasn’t been boiled to death by a coffee maker in a few days. I’ll make you some coffee tomorrow, but for right now, if you could stomach a bottle of water, I'd really appreciate it.”

Tired bloodshot eyes peer at him from over Donnie’s arms and he flinches in a way that Leo can tell means he’s trying to glare but doesn’t have the energy for it. He starts to unfurl himself. Leo checks again for any bruising he might have missed and is grateful not to see anything new. Without saying anything else, Leo holds out the bottle of water to him. Donnie, while still failing to glare at him properly, breaks the seal and takes a small sip at first, but it must trigger something in him, since he downs it in a matter of seconds. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand,

“Thanks,” Donnie says weakly, handing the empty bottle back.

“No problem, bud. Do you need anything else? I have modified Tylenol, Germ-X, hand wipes—”

“I think I'm OK for now. Well, as OK as I can be.” Donnie turns to face forward again, this time resting his head on his arms instead of hiding his face, which Leo takes as a good sign. “How bad was it?” he asks.

“Um.” Leo pauses, unsure of how to answer in a way that wouldn't hurt him. “Made one hell of a mess, but we picked up the pieces. You scared the shell off Raph.”

“Crap, Raph was there.” Donnie presses his face into his hands. “I must have stressed him out so bad.”

“A little, but he stayed calm, gave you your space, and didn’t ask a lot of questions. You would have been really proud of him.”

“Really?” Donnie looks to him again and Leo can see the tension leave his shoulders. He almost smiles before it fades again. “Can, can you tell me what happened?”

Leo blinks, “You don't remember?”

“Not really. I remember being in my room, I had a huge headache trying to organize those stupid boxes, I had a cup of coffee in my hands. I tried to take down a box from one of the taller stacks but I lost my balance and—and it fell and knocked me over. Hit me in the head, covering me in coffee. I just, I guess I lost it.” Donnie presses his face back into his knees. “I’ve never had a meltdown so bad I couldn’t remember it afterwards. I—I think,”—his voice cracks—“I think I'm falling apart.”

Leo instinctively reaches his arm up to pull him into his side and has to stop himself, reminding himself that Donnie doesn't like physical contact, but Donnie tilts and curls up into his side with all his weight, almost sending Leo falling on his side. And, after just a moment of shock, he wraps his arms around him and holds him tightly. It's in these moments Leo knows his failings, lacking the right words to say to make the pain go away. But as he rests his chin on Don's scalp and looks around the room, a soft chuckle escapes him.

“Hey,” he says softly to catch Don’s attention. “R—remember when we were little? And this used to be the quiet room? I was so jealous ’cause even though Dad said it was for everyone, it was obviously made with you in mind and I didn’t understand why we needed it. And I haaaaated the idea of being quiet.”

“You also said you hated me.”

For a moment he’s not sure he heard him right and looks down to him. “I—are you sure? I said that?”

“Yeah, but you were just a kid. I think I had been going through your comics and it set you off. If it helps, if it had been the other way around and I caught you going through my stuff, I would have said worse. Or rather, written an extremely hurtful grammatically solid letter and had someone else read it to you. I wasn’t exactly communicating verbally at the time.”

“Right,” Leo says, not that it made him feel any better. But Donnie must have sensed that, since he shifts around without pulling free to dig around in his belt.

“You felt so bad afterwards you made me these.” In his hand rest two small faded green figurines with worn edges, one with torn purple fabric and the other with blue. Leo smiles softly.

“I remember that part.” With his free hand he nudges the purple one enough to make the arm swing, having lost the grip in its socket a long time ago. “Didn’t you make one for Mikey and Raph?”

“I did, but they were lost when...”—Donnie gestures to the lair—“I started carrying these with me when I felt anxious. It helped me calm down; at least, it used to. Then we lost our home again ’cause some chewed up gum looking aliens from a direct to video The Blob lookalike decided to invade our world.” Donnie jerks his hands in a moment of frustration, an angry tear peeking at the corner of his eyes. “I can’t keep doing this, Leo, I can't keep watching our homes, our lives, get upturned over and over again and be expected to go on with life. I’m not strong enough—”

“Hey.'' For the first time Leo leans away and takes Donnie by both of his shoulders. He doesn’t force eye contact, but this is as close as he gets to trying to get Donnie's full attention. “Struggling doesn’t make you or anyone weak. You think there’s medals out there for who can suffer the most, outside of reality TV? No! Dad always says that strength comes from helping and supporting each other. Are there people out there who see us cracking and think they see—see gold?! Maybe, but they don’t know us. They don’t see our family or the people who help hold us together.” Leo stops talking for a moment, and he takes a deep breath, far braver than he was before.

“I—I haven’t.” The trembling now has taken his voice, and it's noticeable enough for Donnie to look up at him. “I—I’m scared to sleep at night. I’m scared to the point where I’d rather stay up on nothing but pure spite and funny videos, because whenever I close my eyes, I see him. I see him, I feel his fists cracking.” Leo releases Don’s shoulders and holds his chest. He can still feel the outline of healing cracks that had once been barely held together with whatever yokai medicine Draxum made. “I feel the cold, Donnie. It was so cold there. And now, and now whenever I get caught in a cold breeze or open the freezer I just… choke,” he says, his voice breaking with a small sob.

Without hesitation, the arms of his most touch averse brother wrap around him. All the strength he had been trying to hold up for Donnie fails as he presses his face into Don’s shoulders. No tears but the trembling of terror as he clings to his brother.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Donnie asks. “We’re your family. We would have supported you—”

“Because I saw Mikey and Raph going to therapy, I saw Casey adjusting to being a normal kid, and I saw you working hard. I thought, I hoped, I was the only one struggling, and if I ignored it, it would go away. It did when Mikey couldn’t sleep alone in his room and slept in mine for a few weeks. But it came back, and I know now that it's not going away on its own.” Another pause.

“We talked about this a while back; we made a deal that if one of us considered going to therapy, so would the other. I want to change that.”

Donnie shakes his head tiredly. “Leo—”

“I know you don’t want to go, and I’m not going to force you. But if you start going, so will I. And I’ll go with you to every one of your appointments, and you can go to all of mine if you want. Just so you know there’s someone waiting outside that room ready to support you. It doesn’t even have to be me! It can be Raph, or Dad or anyone you want. I’ll hire Jupiter Jim to go with you if that helps! And—and if you still feel like you need to come here to scream and vent, please tell me. I won't stop you. I'll come and we can scream together,” he says, hugging Donnie an inch tighter to him.

He’s not sure what to expect for a response. Then, Donnie lets out a weak, tearful “What if they tell me I was born wrong? What if they tell me I’m so damaged that they can’t do anything about it?”

“Well, first of all you have three—” Leo pauses. “Four brothers, three sisters and a former action star dad who will wipe the floor with any ableist piece of trash who says that. And if it's not the perfect fit, we’ll find someone who is. It doesn't even have to be forever; we can just go until we eat all the free candy they keep in the lobby.”

“There’s free candy?” Donnie says with a weak laugh.

“There’s always free candy. I actually got banned from going with Mikey to his appointments because of that. Then Splinter started going and he almost got banned ’cause he started fighting some eighty-year-old lady for the last red jolly rancher, and they had to call animal control an—” He stops when he hears a weak chuckle come from Donnie. And for the first time, Leo’s face lights up. “Hey, don't laugh! It was a fiasco! They had to call the fire department! Draxum had to come bail him out of jail. Jail, Donald!” he says with loud emphasis, gesturing dramatically with his free hand while the other’s still holding Donnie around the shoulders. “And worse! WORSE THAN THAT!!” he says even louder, to be heard over Donnie’s laughter he can’t smother with his hands. “He had the audacity, the AUDACITY, to wait till it was midnight to come to bail Splinter in his bathrobe, slippers and Starbucks. STARBUCKS, DONNIE!!! Like is there a bigger slap to the face than arriving late with Starbucks, Donatello!? I think not—”

“Stop stop—” Donnie wipes his streaming eyes with his hands. “Stop, I hate it when you make me laugh—”

“Only because it's one of the few times you admit I’m hilarious.” Leo grins before he finally lets himself laugh. He laughs harder than he has in a long time, leaving tears of laughter streaming down his face. And, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s nice to laugh in a place that had once held all their best memories.

Finally, what feels like too soon, their laughter fades into chuckles then ends altogether. And for a moment the pain and trauma feels far away.

“I’ll go,” Don finally says. “If you go.”

Leo smiles and reaches out, taking his brother’s hand into his. “Thank you for being the brave twin,” he says.

“Please,'' Donnie says with an eye roll, but he can’t stop smiling. He looks around Leo to the duffel bag. “So why do you have a duffel bag full of things I like?”

“It was something Mikey’s therapist thought of. It's called a Mental Health First Aid Kit. In case of, well.” He gestures. “Things like this. I helped him put one together for all of us. There’s even one for Splinter, April, Draxum, Casey and… Casey.” Leo blinks. “Yeah, that's going to be confusing. I even brought your weighted blanket if you needed it.”

“No, I don't want to fall asleep out here. I’ve done that too many times.” Donnie sighs as he closes his eyes, leaning again on his brother. As Leo resumes putting his arm around him, his phone lets out a chirp and he pulls it out. He lets out a sigh as he turns the screen so Donnie can see it.

“Dad’s home and wanted to check in with us. He says there’s no pressure but Raph can come pick us up with the Turtle Tank. He also said April can pick us up but giving, um, Future Casey’s driving and…” he let it drift off with an almost nauseous look on his face

“Yeah no, I’m not getting in the same car as him again. Never before had I been so grateful for a cop to try and pull us over.” Donnie lets out a shiver and Leo has to remember to ask for that story later (the only thing he knew was that Donnie and Future Casey had to push the car home in twelve different pieces that had somehow become infused in jello).

“Cool, and if you're ready, I can help you set up your new bed and you can sleep in your room tonight.”

“I,” Don pauses. “I’m not ready for that yet, but you can if you want. Maybe I can crash in your room for a bit till I am ready. And maybe it'll help you get a good night’s sleep as well.”

Leo’s mouth trembles for a moment as he smiles softly. “My hero.” he says.

It would be great to get rid of those heated blankets. Don scoots back and leans again into Leo’s side, pausing for a moment before digging into the duffel bag on Leo’s other side and fishing out the weighted blanket (he must have changed his mind). He gives Leo’s shoulder a small tug, an indication for him to lean forward to wrap one corner around his shoulders before wrapping himself in the other and sinking into his side again. Within moments, Donnie is back asleep and Leo leaves, enjoying the soothing weight of the blanket on his shoulders and his brother by his side. For the last time that day, he blinks back the fear that has been threatening to consume and breathes out with the realization that everything will be OK before drifting off as well.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It's not till he hears the sound of footsteps that Leo realizes he’s fallen asleep. Jerking into a more upright position, he instinctively tightens his grip on Don, who is still waking up, and reaches for one of his katanas. But after a moment he recognizes the footsteps.

“Leo? Donnie?” calls out Raph,

“Over here!” he calls. Leo starts rubbing Don's arm with his opposite hand. “Wake up, bud, our ride’s here.”

“So that's why I smell Raph’s ‘driving after five PM’ stink?” Donnie asks groggily, wiping at his eyes and making Leo chuckle softly. The curtain flaps a moment later as Raph steps through. Leo has a split second to notice the anxiety in Raph's eyes fade as they fell on the two and he moved over, crouching down in front of them. He brings his hands up for a moment as though ready to pull them both into a hug right then and there but he takes a deep breath.

“Are you two alright?” Raph asks, eyes once again looking over them for signs of injury or distress.

“We’re as good as it gets. Near perfection but a different shade of green,” Donnie says with a half tired shrug.

“Th—that's great! That's good. Great—” with each positive affirmation Leo can see Raph mentally willing back the energy till it’s barely contained with his relieved eyes. But before Leo can say anything, Donnie reaches up and takes Raph’s bicep. Though he’s not nearly strong enough to move Raph, he gives a slight tug which gives Raph the direction, albeit confused look on his face, to scoot closer. Close enough to lean forward and give him a small one armed hug around the neck as he rests his forehead on Raph’s shoulder.

“I know Leo already told you, and you know I hate saying he was right, but you did a really good job today. I know it's hard for you to let someone else take charge when it comes to us. You’re an amazing older brother, and I’m just as lucky to have you in my life as I am to have Dad, Mikey and Leo. Never forget that.”

Raph looks over to Leo for a moment as though for verification. Leo gives him a small nod, which is all that is needed for Raph’s eyes to swell up with big Raph tears as he trembles. His arms go up to hug Donnie, trembling in a way that told Leo he was hugging with only a fraction of the strength he wanted to.

“I’m always here for you, Don.” Leo lets out a soft smile as he reaches forward and gives Raph a gentle rub on the shoulder as the two hold each other for a few moments. But as Donnie goes to pull away, Raph respects his wishes and does so as well, using his wrist to wipe at his eyes. But Donnie keeps a grip on his wrist for a moment, drawing Raph’s attention back to him.

“I—It won't be tonight, but I think there’s a lot we have to talk about, with Dad.” Donnie looks over to Leo. After a moment of hesitation, the red slider nods as well, giving him permission. “Leo does too.”

Leo gives a weak smirk. “Yeah, turns out memes aren’t a great coping mechanism.”

“No.” Raph wipes the last of his tears on his arm. “No, but we are good at being there for eachother as a family. And if you’re up for it, I can get you two home.”

“Sounds like a plan. Meet you at the tank,” Leo says. Raph gives them both one last look-over before ducking out of the room. Leo starts to pack up the duffel bag as Don rubs at his eyes. But as he goes to stand, his leg trembles before he falls back down. Donnie reaches over and catches him by the shell, but not fast enough to spare his elbow from the hard pavement.

“Ow jeez—”

“Are you alright?” Donnie asks, giving him the same overprotective look-over that Raph had given them.

“Um, yeah, I think so. I sorta ran all the way here and I think my perfect body is punishing me for it,” he says with a nervous laugh. Donnie’s eyes widen for a moment and Leo regrets saying anything till Donnie closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and smiles.

“I’ll help you, dum dum,” he says, standing up and holding his hand out.

Leo smiles and takes it. The two of them are able to pull each other eac hother up to their feet, but as Leo’s legs tremble again, Donnie ducks underneath his arm.

“It’s OK, I got you,'' Donnie says. Leo wants to protest, but he can already feel his sore leg’s relief. So instead of pulling free, he puts Donnie’s arm over his neck as well and the two make their way out of the ruined remains of their former home.

They were not made of gold.

They were made of love.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie #leo #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #raph #tmnt #trauma #dont even think about it shippers #Raph is in this?! how can it be!#shut up dennis!

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jomiddlemarch · 9 months

Text

let’s call this a win-win

33 hours, 2009 miles, 27 Chicken McNuggets, 2 mint Oreo Blizzards, one ill-fated round of 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.

It was a fucking miracle the truck hadn’t broken down on the way.

“It was a fucking miracle the truck didn’t break down—” Joel said, pulling out Sarah’s floral quilted duffle bag first from the pile of luggage. The last few miles through the woods, he’d muttered his mother’s favorite prayer to St. Christopher and to Tommy’s mechanic friend Al. They were close enough to walk but that was not how he wanted to arrive, especially when he imagined what it would take to keep his daughter from a sugar-crash induced meltdown trudging through the forest.

“Dad! Language,” Sarah scolded, stretching out the a in Dad for maximum guilt-tripping. She had to uncross her arms to take the bag from him but she kept her cherry Chapsticked lips pursed. Despite his fatigue and the ache in his lower back from the crappy motel mattress, he couldn’t help grinning at her expression, her ribbon-tied pigtails, her carefully curated tank top and jean shorts.

“Put it on my tab,” he said. “The curse jar’s going to pay for your college and study abroad at this rate, not just those boots you want so badly.”

“I need those boots,” Sarah said.

“Save that for Uncle Tommy. He’s a soft touch,” Joel said. He took a look around the parking lot. Packed dirt overlaid with gravel, it was ringed by towering pine trees, the cabins of the camp hidden from view. There were a couple of non-descript sedans, a shiny black minivan with far too many bells and whistles, and two other pick-ups, both in better condition than his. No vanity plates though, which he took as a good sign. He got the rest of their bags out and slung his guitar case over his back. He’d been told to head to the main lodge to meet the camp’s director but a woman was already walking towards them, so he nodded to Sarah to stay put.

“Welcome to Camp Firefly. I’m Meghan Williams, the camp nurse, it’s nice to meet you.” She extended her hand to shake and Joel was relieved that her grasp was warm and properly firm but not intended to suggest she’d break anything. She wore drab cargo pants and hiking boots, her dark hair tied back and covered with a red bandana, and had a sturdy, reliable calmness about her that offset her relative slightness. She was not much bigger than Sarah, who was tall for her age, but who had, after all, just turned eleven two weeks ago.

“Likewise,” Joel said. “My name’s Joel Miller, I’m working maintenance, and this is my daughter, Sarah, she’s in bunk 3.”

“That’s great—my niece Ellie’s also in bunk 3. It’s her first summer here, maybe you can show her the ropes, Sarah,” Meghan said.

“It’s my first summer here too, but I’ve been at sleepaway before,” Sarah said, honesty warring with the self-importance that she used to offset her anxiety, a state she had been in approximately 80% of the time since she turned 11. “I went to Girl Scout sleepaway last year for two weeks. They had a lake there too.”

“You’re a veteran then. You can make sure she doesn’t set anything on fire when you make s’mores. Ellie’s a menace in the kitchen, God help us all when she’s got access to a campfire,” Meghan replied, smiling warmly. Her expression shifted to rueful when she turned back to face Joel. “Maintenance, huh? Marlene didn’t let you know?”

“Camp director Marlene? Let me know what?” Joel said. He and Marlene weren’t close, it was Tommy who had suggested to her Joel might work over the summer with Sarah going for free as part of the payment, but Joel didn’t see how she could’ve hired someone else and not told him before he’d driven halfway across the country with his little girl. Still, shittier things had happened and he started planning what he’d say to Sarah because he and her mom sure as hell couldn’t pay for her to go to the camp on their own and he couldn’t expect to land a job in the Middle of Nowhere, New Hampshire overnight. The higher rate for her mom’s gig as a travel nurse was going toward keeping her Grandma Denise in her apartment, money Joel didn’t begrudge his ex. They’d had an amicable enough split and they kept it that way by not bitching at each other about their finances or new relationships, not that Joel had much happening in either category.

“You’re not working maintenance. Or, not just maintenance. Gary, the guy who was supposed to be the woodshop counselor, backed out at the last minute, so Marlene’s kind of drafted you to take over. She said you worked construction, so you can help the kids make whatever they make in woodshop,” Meghan explained. Joel must have looked somewhere between blank and dubious. He felt that way. “On the plus side, you were going to share a cabin with Gary, so now you have the place to yourself. I heard he was a slob, but that might have been something someone said to make you feel like you’re coming out further ahead, since Marlene didn’t mention she’d be paying you more and she’s basically a card on the table kind of person, so I wouldn’t bet on a bigger paycheck, just the extra space.”

“That’s it?” Joel said.

He wasn’t even sure himself what he was questioning—the extra work, the extra space, Marlene basically deputizing a stranger to tell him and avoiding his justifiable anger.

“For now. I think. Though you’ll probably get asked to play your guitar if you’re good enough to bring your own with you for the summer,” Meghan said. “No lessons, just campfire songs, folk songs, a little bit country, a little rock n’ roll—”

“No show tunes,” Joel interrupted. He liked this Meghan, her humor and her easiness with Sarah, her lack of vanity evident in the cargo pants, her sense of whimsy in the red bandana. Still, it was possible what he’d intended as banter had come out as gruff, shutting her down instead of picking up where she left off. “It’s just—”

“I get it. A man has to draw the line somewhere,” Meghan said. “Bunk 3 isn’t too far, I could show you the way there if you’ve got all your stuff. Sarah can meet Ellie and wait for the other girls to get in,” Meghan said.

Joel nodded and Sarah nearly bounced in agreement. They walked quietly through the woods, Sarah rendered speechless either by the intense greenness of the forest or the imminent meeting with Ellie and any other campers who’d arrived. Meghan didn’t appear to feel a need to fill up the time with small talk, though she did point out the path that led down to the dock and the sharply peaked roof of the main lodge. There was a clearing that showed the lake, laid out like a mirror, the pines and the cloudless sky redoubled, a pair of red kayaks making a cheerful splash of color on the distant shore. Sarah glanced at him, her eyes wide, and Joel smiled at her. This was why he’d driven cross-country in the truck that had seen far, far better days, why he was going to spend the summer dealing with rotting floorboards and teaching kids to make what, maybe some birdhouses, and whatever else Marlene decided he was going to do, probably dish up in the kitchen and if Meghan was right, lead the singalongs. They’d been at Camp Firefly for under an hour and it was already worth it.

“That’s the main campfire site,” Meghan said, pointing to a sizable ring of smoke-stained stones surrounded by grass matted down by hundreds of campers. There were a few white Adirondack chairs clustered together and a low, broad slab of rock Joel would pick to sit on if he had the guitar on his lap. “I’ll be sure to spread the word—no show tunes!”

“You’re not going to play ‘Hernando’s Hideaway?’ That’s your favorite,” Sarah said, blowing his cover. He shrugged and Meghan chuckled.

“My favorite’s ‘Make Believe,’ but ‘Hernando’s’ a close second,” Joel said.

“Gaylord Ravenal in the flesh,” Meghan said, winning some real points. Secret points because otherwise he’d have to admit how much he liked Broadway musicals. The next step would be disclosing that he’d always wanted to try out for the lead in the high school show but had been too busy at his after-school job that helped pay the family’s electric bill to be able to swing it.

“I can hold my own with his part. But I make a mean Magnolia Hawks,” Joel said.

“We’ve only got a lake, not a river. But it’s a big one,” Meghan said.

“Dad, are you going to talk here all day?” Sarah said, this time stretching out all day long enough to make him shake his head and Meghan roll her eyes in amused commiseration.

“That’s Bunk 3,” Meghan said, gesturing over to an unremarkable log cabin that somehow managed to suggest a certain cheery impishness. That might have been the little face in the window, brown braids topped with a blue bandana fashioned into sort of a headband. “And that, as you may have guessed, is Ellie, holding down the fort. Sarah, why don’t you head in? Your counselor should be along in a bit. I’ll make sure your dad doesn’t get lost on the way to his cabin.”

“Okay, yeah, Love you, Dad, bye!” Sarah said, making a beeline to the cabin’s front door and opening it after the briefest pause.

“I don’t need you to walk me to the cabin,” Joel said once they were standing there alone, the moment of watching the Bunk 3 door closing having past, leaving them as two adults just awkwardly near each other. At least, he felt awkward, laden down with bags, his lower back twinging again, suddenly unable to keep the frustration with Marlene from his expression, all out of small talk, not that he ever had much. He probably sounded rude to Meghan, he’d been rude to her, dismissive, especially when he didn’t exactly know the way to the cabin he and Gary had been assigned, but he couldn’t bring himself to apologize.

“It’s on my way,” Meghan said. “And quite frankly, you don’t know where the hell you’re going so you do need me to walk you there. I’ll let Marlene know you’re settling in and you’d like a word with her before dinner. It’s at 6.”

She started walking, her boots’ tread audible on the leafmeal in the absence of any conversation, and Joel followed her. She was right after all.

“I owe you an apology,” Joel finally managed to say. He looked her straight in the eye, there was that. Hers were a greyish green, darker than he’d thought when he’d first looked at her.

“No, you don’t. And I’ve never had one owed that was any good,” she said. “Relax. You didn’t offend me, not really, and I work in healthcare, I’m used to people mouthing off when they’re stressed. That’s before you add in dealing with my niece 24/7.”

“Don’t you get to be the fun auntie? She still gives you a hard time?” Joel asked. Sarah and Tommy got along like a house afire, as the saying went, largely because Tommy had never once said no to her and also never came to the Joel’s place without a bag of gummi bears that Sarah didn’t have to share with anyone. And a Barbie. He’d thought she’d tell him to stop when she turned 11, but she’d opened up Olympic Gymnast Barbie with the same degree of excited greed she’d brought to every other doll, secured more tightly in the pink box than whatever the hell they kept in Fort Knox these days.

“I’m not the fun auntie, I’m all she’s got,” Meghan said. “I was 17 when my sister died when Ellie was a baby, her dad was never in the picture, it got really complicated for a while with the state, and you didn’t ask to hear any of this. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Joel said. “I get complicated. Plus, now we’re even—we both tried to apologize and neither one of us would accept it.”

“I guess that’s good,” Meghan said. “That’s your cabin, right there,” she added, pointing to a small building nestled right up against a pair of pines.

“Good enough,” Joel said.

#tlou au #the last of us #summer camp au #joel miller/ofc #sarah miller #ellie williams #nearly everyone lives #fluffy as heck #just dropped our oldest off at college #so any every love coming my way would be appreciated #pedro pascal fanfiction #I've started the second chapter from Meghan's POV

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genderqueerdykes · 1 year

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Our Hunt for a Home Continues: February 19th - 24th, 2023.

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We received a call on February 16th about an opportunity that had opened up with a low-income housing program designed for disabled people. We had been waiting on this opportunity for 4 or 5 months and were ecstatic when the call finally came through. The other units we were looking into renting were in the worst part of town, and charging $700 or more per month for a 1 bedroom or studio unit.

We were instructed to head over to this apartment complex on Feb 20th to fill out paperwork. We hopped in an Uber and went on over. We were shown the unit, then handed an application, told to get a $16 money order to cover the application fee, and come back and hand it all in. Well, it sounded a lot easier than it ended up being.

We don’t own a car and can’t drive due to disabilities (hallucinations, dissociation, anxiety, you get the picture). So in order to get this money order, we asked what places nearby could get us one. We were told to head to a local Circle K. We looked on Google Maps, saw it was 3 minutes away, and started walking. Well, it thought we were in a car, so it meant 3 minutes driving time.

After walking for about 15 minutes before realizing something was up, our legs felt like jello. Our left leg had a pinched nerve in it that day and was sending shooting pain up our hip and down our thigh with every step. Our hypermobile & arthritic joints were already screaming in pain and our feet needed a rest after just one city block of walking. We had to call another Uber. The problem was, for whatever reason, our cellphone service provider has abysmal service in the downtown Albuquerque area.

We lost service about 5 times trying to hail Ubers over the course of the day, causing us to have several public meltdowns. It’s hard to stay calm when your phone is on 20% battery, you keep losing your only way to hail a ride, and you’re in too much pain to walk anywhere where someone can help you. After a long fight we got connected with a driver who was very understanding of our situation, despite our language barrier.

They took us to several locations for free, as we first went to a Circle K gas station that didn’t do money orders, then attempted another gas station across the street, then a bank, and so on. It took a lot of stops but the driver didn’t mind, as I was paying for the longer stops across town. I didn’t care either because it became apparent that it was President’s Day after I tried to go to a bank and it was closed. I almost gave up, but decided to call the Circle K near my home, who turned out, did do money orders. I redirected my driver from dropping me off at home, got the money order, ran back to the apartment complex with just half an hour to spare before they closed.

Filling out the application filled me with dread. The desk staff person was very nice, but she was very blunt about the entire approval process. Because they can only take a percentage of your earned income, they are a very strict program that requires each tenant to pass a credit score check AND an extensive background check that monitors ALL of the renter’s history. She told me that this part of the approval process is where a lot of people get turned away. A lot of people don’t make it, she said.

After handing in my application, I knew it was fucked. I had been holding my breath and waiting for this unit. It seemed like it would come right in time- just right before the 28th, when I’m set to be homeless. But I got the call 2 days later where she said I was denied, due to an instance of unpaid rent in my past. I sighed heavily, asked her if I would be able to apply again after I got that sorted, and she said yes.

I freaked the fuck out, texted every local friend that I could, and let them know of my predicament. I was very lucky in finding a local friend whose roommate is leaving in 2 weeks. They are willing to charge me $495/month, which is way lower than anything I’ve been able to find on the market. We agreed to help each other out until I can figure something more permanent out. It’s not a solution I’d like to take, as I barely know this person, but if it helps both of us, so be it.

The instance of unpaid rent in another state was due to us having lived in Missouri at the time, far away from friends, family, and medical care. We were living with some folks at the time who ended up ghosting us after we helped them move in together. It left us stranded in a very cold state with unsurvivable winters and no programs for homelessness. There was no medicaid or other insurance that would cover me. I couldn’t even get my proper medical care while there, and after a while, my partner and I at the time decided we needed to leave for some place cheaper and safer. The heavy winters were too scary for us, as two people who have been homeless.

The landlord here would not allow us to terminate our lease early despite us expressing that it was an emergency and we literally could not stay any longer due to my health failing severely while in the harsh winters. I was developing arthritis symptoms that I had never seen before, and I was getting so sick that I couldn’t function. Still, my landlord wouldn’t budge and said we had to pay for the rest of the lease. We refused and left anyways, but the landlord didn’t care, I suppose.

I found out today that there is potentially help to get this debt paid for and consolidated, which will make me eligible for the low-income housing program for disabled people once more. I am not going to hold my breath that this is a fast process by any means, but, I am hoping that they will be able to clear that up so I can ever hope to rent an apartment of my own again. My credit score is 9 points under the threshold they wanted, so that will be my next goal…

The only other units in the city I could find that can drum up a lease for me with my circumstances were trying to charge $685/month and $725/month, one of which being in one of the worst parts of town. I would have to pay a massive $650 deposit at both of these places, plus have to get utilities set up in my name, as well as get internet set up for my job, and a lot of other costs that will not be apparent at first, but will stack on very quickly.

I am very scared moving in with roommates in general- I am not afraid of my current roommate, but I have lived with many, many different roommates, in many different places, for many different reasons. Roommate situations fall apart very easily. Money is almost always the thing that tears roommates and friends apart- whether it’s someone not paying their portion of the rent, not buying enough groceries, not paying for a bill, gambling, shopping when they can’t afford it, and so forth…

My case worker helped me contact a local Christian charity who does housing programs and we were able to contact someone who actually seems like they can help me with permanent, long term housing- they said all of their programs are permanent, but are best suited for people in low income situations and poor health. When they asked where I was headed my case worker said a friend’s couch, and this was the first person on the phone who said, after learning about my income being a fluctuating thing, “well now that makes me even more nervous- because if she* can’t pay that $500 one time, she’s very well gonna be right back out on the street. Roommate situations almost always fall apart. I don’t feel like that’s safe for her.” [*”She”s in this context referring to me/my system.]

This charity requires that the individual stays for at least one day at a homeless shelter in order to get an official letter of homelessness. I have been to and spent time in several shelters in my city, I don’t mind one day if it means a potential future of secure housing. They told me a lot of other things that sound quite promising. I just have to hope that I can hold out until they can get something prepared for me. They said they have furnished units that are basically ready and waiting…

Staying with a friend for now isn’t the end of the world. In fact, I’m going to save some money by not having to pay for a deposit, movers, and potentially storage, now. But I’m nervous, as any kind of roadblock can cause this situation to fall apart. Disagreements, not getting a lot of money from Etsy one month, physical and mental illness, personal issues, and other life stressors can cause a lot of problems. Plus, this person may eventually decide they want someone else to move in instead, as it is their place, not mine, and that is their decision to make.

With any hope, I can get my past rental dues cleared, and have a better chance with these programs. I am hoping and praying, but that will take time, more time than I have. It is February 24th, 2023 as of writing this, and I have to be out of my apartment on February 28th. I have to have all of my possessions and myself and my pet rat out on this date, or else police will be called, and my things will be thrown on to the sidewalk, and into dumpsters. My case worker confirmed that this is the case, and I have known people who have gone through this personally.

I am very frightened. It has been hard to stay calm. I’m not exactly excited to be working with a Christian charity as someone who is visibly trans- “”female”” birth marker and deadname, but High T body, deep voice, and short hair. It’s caused problems with domestic violence shelters in the past, and can cause problems with religious organizations. I just have to hope and pray that these people love Jesus more than they hate queers.

My case worker was pretty convinced we’d be able to get our hotel stay covered by some local programs, but after 2 hours of phone calls this morning, we discovered that all of the hotel voucher programs in town have used up their funds, and the majority of them require the individual to have a child, which I do not. I have littles, but they’re system kids, not bodily ones, but they’re not so kind as to consider any of that.

I honestly didn’t anticipate any of those programs coming through. I’m just hoping that I’m able to be able to afford the two weeks in an extended stay hotel and that not too many more things come up. I didn’t really want it to have to come to this, but it’s either this, or sign a 1 year lease for 1 bedroom apartment in the least safe part of town, for $685+/month. I can’t afford that, it’s unrealistic. As much as I’d like to totally have a place all to myself right now, I can’t do it unless one of these programs actually works with me.

Anyway, I just wanted to explain why it’s been so hard for us to post regularly lately. This has all been over the course of one week. One of the worst days of our collective life was on Tuesday, having to run around town to get a money order just to be told we won’t have a place to live come the 28th… heart breaking. It felt very uncomfortable to beg friends yet again for a place to stay, but this is the life of queer, poor and disabled people. We have to do what we have to to survive and it’s not pretty. Sometimes it involves putting strain on people you love and none of us want to do it.

With any hope our disability benefits get approved sometime soon and we won’t have to wait much longer to afford to live. But until now things are very tight, and any help that we get goes directly toward our survival and staying off the street.

This is why we take the time to thank everyone we can for their help and support- it makes all the difference, especially when programs that are designed to help people like me fail miserably, or have unexpected roadblocks. Every bit of help, even the smallest donations or purchases from our store enable us to stay safe, and we appreciate each and every one greatly.

We will try to post more updates as things progress. We are finding it a bit easier to endure this when we share updates, as it helps give people an idea of what life is like for people who aren’t quite so privileged. Things that take others a few minutes can take hours for us, given our lack of reliable transportation and inconsistent health.

Thank you for reading, take care, stay safe, and I hope you find an easier time staying sheltered if you are a similarly disabled, poor queer person. It’s not easy out there. We have to take care of one another, it is the only way.

Rook

#trans punx #disabled #disability #cripple punk #crip punk #cpunk #our writing #wordpress #long post #update

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formula-red · 8 months

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man these kids. this week has been so insane.

(continued below the cut cus this will be way too long)

ok so for like. those of you who care to read to this and who may not know this. i’m working in a rural school in the usa and by nature of the area a lot of our kids are really traumatised. a lot don’t get enough to eat or sleep and we have a significant population living w.out water or electricity. and i’m workin with a lot of our little guys. most of the day i spend with k/1 so like 5-7 y/os and then at the end of the day i see some 3 and 5s so like 8 y/o then 10 y/os.

alright so with that out of the way. the attachment issues and trauma frequency being so high means these kids have a really tough time in school and a lot of behavioural/emotional issues. even our little guys; they’ll lash out a lot and hit us or cry and really don’t do so well sometimes. but omg. these sweet little babies. augh. they just need someone who gives a fuck about them and who is kind to them.

so, as some of u guys have seen, i have my own trauma lol and i know what its like to an extent– obviously my experience is my own and drastically different than theirs but. like. i know enough. so its really important to me to just be kind to these guys even when they’re being mean and acting out. and augh. the reactions i’ve gotten from it.

i’ve already been able to get a few kids down from like. full on sobbing snotty tears streaming down the face defcon 3 meltdowns. one of them (like a 7y/o) had been with another person for like 10-15 mins and when i traded places was still in full meltdown and i had her back in the classroom and tear free in like 5 minutes bc like. i just sat down with her on the floor and talked to her and more importantly fucking listened to her. and another boy (10 y/o) who had been so bad during this group work for the first half of the week. i talked to him and was like bud i really don’t want you to get in trouble that’s not at all my goal here but we have to turn some work in . and he was still refusing to participate but i noticed he was kind of looking on a few minutes later but didnt have a pencil. so i put my own pencil down on his paper without saying anything while still working with the other kids and he just put his head down for like 30s all emotional before picking it up and joining in and he’s been so much better for me now. like SOB.

but yesterday. oh man. YESTERDAY. (kdz has already had a detailed recount of this but.) i have two boys, one in kinder one in 1st grade, and they both have really tough home lives. and i don’t know what happened yesterday but both of them were like GLUED to me. i mean they were both having a hard time and at separate points during the day i had to take them aside and just be like. what’s goin on why are you acting like this today and both ended up basically crying and hugging me a bunch and then wouldn’t go anywhere without holding my hand. and now they’re my little buddies when i’m in their classroom. the little tiny one even said HE WAS SCARED WHEN I LEFT FOR A FEW MINUTES 😭😭😭 when i had come back he ran over and hugged me and was just like. stuck to me.

like augh. idk how to explain what it’s like working with them. it’s really special to be a safe person for them and to be able to help them be more comfortable at school and to help them learn but it’s so fucking heartbreaking man. i hate knowing these kids go home to all the shit they go through. and of course it can be really frustrating and hard when they are mean or act out but augh. man. these kids just need love. so bad. i genuinely care for them so much already . augh augh augh augh augh

#this is a huge word vomit. sorry #jd's wv

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gunkbaby · 8 days

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I turn 20 tomorrow so have is unedited, uncontrolled, self-pitying, semi-reflective waffle about my wasted teenage years and general misery (aita if i might be a little bit ageist?)

too long so it’s under the cut. This is my birthday gift to myself - I’m dreadfully self-absorbed and self-aware and i think it makes me better than everyone. No one will read this, but it’s for me. My relfection on my horrendous teenage self. Extreme moping. I miss when it was socially acceptable to waffle in self-pity on personal blogs. Gah. How gauche of me.

I’ve been thinking a lot abt the past recently. Especially as I’m abt to turn 20 (no longer a real teenage girl anymore). It sucks bc I really didn’t get to experience adolescence. I left school when i was 13, and an abusive parent meant I wasn’t able to really do anything outside of my home. No wonder I’m such a mess. I have so much anger. Anger of what was taken, what everyone else has, that I will never. I will never get this back. I will never go to prom. I will never know what a teenage party was like. I’ve been to about 3 sleepovers, all before I was 12. My teenage years were spent in hospital wards, doctor’s offices, arguing with my abuser, or in my room, desperately trying to educate myself on my own. I couldn’t socialise myself. No one tried. I had a roof over my head, but outside of the basic privilege of western living, I was kind of abandoned.

It’s kind of shocking to me that I’m 19, about to be 20. And I live alone, sure. I’m going to a great college, I’m about to go through the exams I should have done when I was 16 - that I have worked my ass off to get. I’m about to move up into a higher course, and after that, I’m likely going to university, and I’m going to study my dream degree - zoology/botany. I might be the person I had believed I would be when I was a child. I get to go horse riding every week - something my abuser actively leveraged against me. She leveraged my few social interactions against me. I get to come online everyday and express my love for the one thing that I have had for 8 years - almost a decade, and nearly almost half my freaking life - that I have clung to. That has actively kept me alive. I still remember that fourteen year old girl that was only living to buy the next manga volume, that only agreed to go to the eating disorder clinic because when she came home, the new episode would be out. Staying alive for something to take everything away for a little while.

I think of how I don’t remember being 15, because I had been addicted to alcohol for the past 2 years. How I woke up when Covid happened, but I barely remember that. It was bad when I was 16. I thought, so badly, that something would happen. I might get a little better. I tried recovering and lived with that placebo. I didn’t realise it then, but that was when things with my mother really started to go downhill.

I think of when I was 17, 18, and I first started to use the internet socially, finally started interacting with a fandom I’d lurked in for so long. I think of that girl, and I think of everything she did. Every dumb thing she did, the horrible ways she made people feel, the brazenly incorrect or callous things she said, so desperate to cling onto everything. How little she understood it. I think of her meltdowns, how quickly she’d end up in hospital over anything. I think about how desperate she was to fit in and how much she failed to understand that something like that had already passed for everyone else. Suddenly too old to be behaving how I was. I think about how things got back then.

I think about being so paranoid, I hid under my bed and didn’t eat for a week because I believed people were trying to kill me. I think about how often I’d run away from home. I remember I got lost in the woods once. It was November, and it got so dark, so fast. Hell, to my shock, I think my dumb 17 year old self blogged the fucking thing. I remember my mother had threatened me with hospitsalisation, and I had thrown my coat away, because it was bright yellow and I didn’t want her to follow me. It was so fucking cold. I had my Shuu plushie with me. I don’t think I’ve ever gripped something so hard. I walked for hours. I remember how scared I was. I wonder if I’ll ever not be that scared girl lost in woods. The next I ran away, it was in the middle of the city. I sat in my favourite park and I was scared, but I sat and looked at the city and everyone in it and I felt so calm.

My mother’s face when she tried to kill me. There’s this look people get, and I had never seen it before in my life. But I looked at her and I just sort of knew, you know? I remember pleading for my life, trying to force the car door open, begging her to just let me out. I remember she took me shopping afterwords, sat down and drank a coffee like everything was normal. I was having a panic attack, and she told me that I was being silly. She never said sorry. Recently I found out that she’d gone home and told people she’d ’thought everyone would be better off without us’. I think our relationship died that day, but I didn’t realise it until months later.

And then I think about how one day I decided that it was over. And I ‘chose’ to relapse and kill myself slowly and painfully, then ended up bulimic and more miserable than I have ever been. What a mess I have made of everything.

I am angry at that girl, for a lot of things, but more so, I think I feel sorry for her. In a cold sort of way, I view myself then distantly. I know she was hurting. She was scared and confused, . She was abused and didn’t understand it. She had a fucking personality disorder she didn’t even know the name of. She had a whole ass condition no one would even look at. I wish I could go back to that 17 year old. Part of me wants to shake her and ask why the fuck she’s posting dumb shit on the internet, how anyone could fucking justify how goddamn delusional she was being. But what would that solve - more of a ‘poor me’ narrative, no doubt. What I’ve done isn’t the worst thing anyone’s done, but you can’t escape that guilt, the way you made people feel, how fucking creepy you were - the things I did before I knew I had BPD. I’m not wise enough right now to offer that 17 year old any wisdom.

I can’t hate her. I compare myself to Shuu too much. But it helps sometimes. I forgive him for being unhinged, it’s harder to forgive myself, but I am nothing if not consistent. That girl isn’t all dead yet. She’s shrivelling, slowly, but I still act in ways to people I’m not proud of. I’m still ill.

I’ll still be ill in my twenties. Recovery is no longer the goal - living a life the sick mind can tolerate is. I’m not going to live as long as other people - not of my own accord, though that remains a possibility - people like me just don’t tend to make it that far. I can’t say the idea of old age is appealing. I find oldness detestable - call me ageist, but I am so sick of seeing old people who look like they should have already died. Sometimes you look into the eyes of an old woman, or she will speak to you in such a kind way, and you understand then that there is beauty in old age. I believe, perhaps controversially, that modern medicine might be working too well. We are meant to die, naturally. I think whilst it’s lovely that our grandparents might live to be 100, sometimes I look at old people and I consider than society has chosen quantity over quality. Some old people look at the world with this confusion. I read cosmic horror, it reminds me of that a bit. I feel bad for them, because my world is not theirs anymore. I see anger, confusion, and have the knowledge that these ancient people will never live long enough to come to terms with it. I see it and all I can think about is how, maybe, some people simply should not live to be 90. The body lives, but does the mind? Can our minds handle living so long?

Whatever. Back to me being self-important now.

I can say a million sorries to people I have hurt. To people I made feel uncomfortable. I can apologise for all I have said. For the hatred and negativity I have brought to people. I could say it a million, billion times, but sorry is just a word. I’ll never not feel ashamed of who I have been, I live with guilt in the hope that one day, I might manage myself well enough to not need to think of everything. I hope I make it so far.

I’m not going to be a beacon of mental health. But I’m about to get my basic qualifications, then more advanced, then university. I’m going to be a biologist. :)

Writing has come back to me, slowly, surely. So will drawing. Maybe soon, maybe later, I will have beautiful work and I might say ‘hey, that’s not bad, kid!’. I still have Shuu. He’s still here for me. He’s never not been. I will have him as long as I need him. Not a day goes by where I am not grateful for my oldest friend. Art has returned through my desire to celebrate him. He has saved me, once again.

I live alone, and I like it. I get to go horse riding every week - I love it, so much. My abuser is no longer near me. I have a father who tells me every day, how proud he is. I get to see my wonderful little dog once a month, and I have three beautiful guinea pigs. In the summer, I’ll study a botany diploma and I’m planning on volunteering at a local horse & donkey sanctuary. I’ve never had a job before, it’s never been possible, but maybe.

i guess, not all sunshine and rainbows. I still can’t order coffee or really speak to other human beings. I want to, but I can’t stand to be seen. I’ve never hated myself more than I do right now. Things online are still messy, because I made them so, and I continue to. I’m still ill. Still, maybe things are not as messy as I had once made them. My bulimia has never been this bad, and now is not the time to handle it. I’m fairly certain that my exam stress will end me in hospital. I am still, utterly alone, the mental health services don’t seem to care. But I’m about to start ADHD medication soon, which, maybe, would make some things easier. A lot of things.

I guess all this extended waffling is a form of self-comfort. I fancy myself a wonderful writer, can you tell? I think reflection is a healthy tonic, I’m unable to journal consistently, so forgive the long post about me and how interesting I am.

But. I’m going to be 20 tomorrow. I’m going to wake up tomorrow, and nothing will have changed at all. Except I’m no longer a teenager, and it’s never going to happen for me. I’ve lost it. Forever. And my heart is breaking.

It’s so funny. I spent so long wishing I was 20. 24 especially has always sounded like such a cool age. And 22, and 28 - how I love the 2x tables. But now, I’m scared. Because I haven’t had what I should’ve. Being a teenager wasn’t cool, I thought it would be. Maybe then, the conclusion to all this is simple: being a teenager isn’t something I should miss. So I didn’t grow up normally. So far removed from everything. But I don’t think growing up ever stops. When it does, then you become one of those old people - waiting, confused and angry by a cosmically different world that no longer has use for you.

So maybe being 20 will be okay. Maybe adolescence comes later for me. I last had a birthday party when I was 12 - I bought a Tokyo Ghoul DVD, root A, to my utter shame. But, maybe I can have a 21st birthday party. Maybe I can be who I wanted to be when I was a teenager, but a little more wizened. Maybe growing up like this has been a good thing. I’m starting to go out into the world, and I have a backlog of teenage fuckups separate from teenage joy - maybe that joy will come in my 20s. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

There are flowers in my home. If flowers bloom, then things are never that bad. I think.

#This is shockingly shit idc #I am free wafflinf #No one read this #Or do #idc #im cringe and arrogant and horrendously gauche #Sue me #I have 24 hours of 19 left. Let me make a final act of cringe!#Hehe #longwinded waffle #Extremely bad writing #Sue me!#I am. So tired.#i need to go study #sorry #consider this a journal entry #I’m not even reading this even i don’t gaf #Watch me delete when i wake up

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