I has a fic! :D
Jun. 2nd, 2011 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emerald_skiesAlrighty, internets, as I promised, here is the little ficlet I wrote that serves as a deleted scene for my GK/AI crossover.
Title: How's It Going To Be
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emerald_skies
Pairing(s): Tunny & Will (gen, maybe some Will/Tunny if you squint)
Rating: PG-13 (just to be safe)
Warnings: Potential triggering mentions/descriptions of domestic violence
Summary: Will has always considered Tunny the strongest person he's ever known, but even the strong need help sometimes. That's what best friends are for, right?
Author's Note: This is a little vignette, a "deleted scene" if you will, that fits in to the Everyone's Heart 'verse (I'll be making a separate "deleted scenes" post with this and a few other ficlets once I finish the story). I'm evidently in an angst-tacular mood these days -- try not to hold it against me?
They say that being a teenager is a time of a lot changes, and that that's part of why it sucks so hard. It sounds like trite, meaningless crap, but Will learns when he's 14 that there's more meaning to that than he could have ever guessed.
It happens on a chilly November night in the middle of Thanksgiving break. It's almost midnight, which means Will's stretched out on his bed, channel surfing in search of something good because he's not even close to tired yet. He settles on an episode of Jerry Springer that's just started -- something about a woman fooling around with four different guys who are going to find out about each other on the show and have a chance to confront her about it.
Just as the first guy comes out onto the stage, Will hears a sound at his window that's different from the usual scrape of the tree branches right outside it -- Will realizes it sounds like knocking. He glances over at the window and almost falls off his bed in surprise. Why?
Because Tunny is crouched on one of the thicker branches that crosses right in front of the window.
Will crosses his room and throws open the window. "Are you fucking crazy?" he demands, "It's freezing outside, pissing down rain, and it's, like, midnight. What are you doing here?" He asks the last question as he reaches out a hand and helps Tunny into his room before closing the window behind him.
Tunny rakes a hand through his rain-drenched hair, which reveals nasty looking bruises circling one of his wrists when the sleeve of his too-big camo jacket slides down a little. Now that he's really looking, Will also notices a bruise forming on one side of Tunny's jaw.
"Jesus," Will whispers faintly. He knows he's staring, but damn if this isn't an appropriate occasion to stare. "What the fuck happened to you?"
"The old man got pissed at my mom," Tunny answers as he shrugs off the jacket (and grimaces in pain as he does it). "He took off his belt, I got in the middle of it...shit happened. He kicked me out, so here I am."
Will finds himself at an honest-to-God loss for words for a second. "Holy shit," he finally says.
"Yeah." Tunny's mouth crooks into a bitter, one-sided smile. "Anyway, I kind of sort of," he pauses, swipes his tongue over his lower lip, then finally mutters, "I need your help." He says it quickly and just above a whisper, and he doesn't meet Will's eyes as he says it. That, Will understands -- something about asking people for help bugs the shit out of Tunny for reasons Will's never been able to figure out.
"Sure," Will says with a deep sigh. He still can't believe this is happening. "Anything. What do you need?"
Tunny grimaces. "Feel free to tell me to fuck off if this is asking too much, but I'm sort of bleeding, including some places on my back that I can't reach. Can you help me patch myself up?"
"Yeah, definitely, one sec." Will ducks out of his room and digs the first aid kit out of the bathroom at the bottom of the stairs up to his room. He gets back just in time to see Tunny shrugging off his black T-shirt very carefully. Will can sort of understand why, considering the state of Tunny's back.
A batch of long, colorful welts criss-cross an ugly looking blotch about halfway down Tunny's back that spreads onto his left shoulder and his side -- he's right, some of them are indeed bleeding sluggishly. Those must be where the buckle got him, Will thinks dazedly. That isn't what really gets Will, though.
What really gets Will is the scars. He can see one or two lines of pale, faded pink on Tunny's right shoulder. The shock hits him like a freight train as he realizes, This isn't the first time.
Will comes out of his fog to find Tunny watching him carefully, trying to gauge Will's reaction. "This isn't the first time, is it?" Will asks quietly.
Slowly, Tunny shakes his head.
"How long?"
Tunny's expression turns from neutral to grim. "Six months, give or take a couple of weeks."
The answer sends a hot, sickening rush of anger coursing through Will. He feels his hands reflexively clench into fists, feels his lips go numb, notices his vision getting weirdly hyper-focused. Will's been pissed off before, but this kind of pure, boiling, concentrated fury is totally new to him. A surprisingly large part of him wants to get his metal baseball bat out of the garage, go back to Tunny's house, and make Tunny's dad so very, very sorry for every last bruise, welt, and scar. More than anything, Will wants to make that mothertfucker answer for all of it.
"Dude, Will," Tunny waves a hand in front of Will's eyes, "Say something."
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" Will's voice comes out sounding amazingly calm, all things considered.
Tunny swallows hard, his expression suddenly very sad. "It's not you, no one would know if it had been up to me. Johnny only knows because my mom and his mom are, like, best friends, so I'm usually supposed to go to Johnny's house when shit like this happens."
Well, at least that further clears up why Tunny came here -- Johnny's been at his grandma's in Florida all week. Tunny had nowhere else to go.
"Okay." Will takes a few deep breaths until he finally manages to calm himself down, then sets the first aid kit on his bed, opens it up, and sets to fixing Tunny up.
Tunny notices when Will's hand trembles as he smoothes down the first big Band-Aid. "Are you...mad at me?" Tunny asks hesitantly without turning to address Will directly.
Will swallows down a lump that suddenly forms in his throat at how worried Tunny sounds. "No. Jeez, Tunny, why would I be mad at you?"
"Dunno," Tunny mumbles, "Just asking." He suddenly gasps sharply and flinches away from Will's hands. It takes Will a second to figure out that it's because he was pressing down too hard on a particularly nasty looking cut. That just makes Will feel like the biggest tool ever. "Sorry."
Tunny shrugs without thinking and flinches again. "It's cool," he grits out tightly through clenched teeth, "Don't worry about it."
There are a couple of scratches that are either too big or too oddly placed for regular Band-Aids, so Will winds up making some of his own out of gauze and strips of medical tape. He thankfully manages not to make Tunny flinch again, even once he's finished covering the scratches and starts wrapping an Ace bandage over them as best he can manage. When Will finally steps back to inspect his handiwork, he looks up and notices Tunny watching him with a faint, somewhat amused smile on his face. It's an infectious smile; Will finds himself smiling back without even realizing it.
"Thanks, mom." There's the barest hint in Tunny's voice that he's holding back a laugh.
Will can feel the beginnings of a blush heating up his face. "If I were your mom, I would have put a smartass like you up for adoption a long time ago," he grumbles. The fact that he's still trying (unsuccessfully) not to smile sort of spoils the grumpy effect he's going for, though.
On the bright side, it does get Tunny to out-and-out laugh, especially when Will tosses Tunny one of his own black T-shirts (there's no use in putting the bloody one back on, Will explains, so he'll sneak Tunny's shirt into his laundry and give it back later). Fuck it, at least he's laughing, Will thinks to himself, I guess that's worth a little embarrassment.
"Um..." Tunny starts but trails off, looking distinctly uncomfortable and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Will waits for Tunny to get to whatever it is he really doesn't want to say, because he learned long ago that prompting Tunny when he's like this just makes him clam up completely. Will does have a guess as to what's on Tunny's mind, though.
Tunny looks down at the floor, then back up at Will. When he finally manages to talk, he's mumbling so faintly that Will almost can't make out what he says; "Can I crash here with you?" (Cool, Will thinks, I just totally read Tunny's mind). When Will doesn't answer right away, Tunny adds hurriedly, "Don't worry about my mom, she said a while back that she always figures I'm either at your house or Johnny's if I'm not home."
Will rolls his eyes. "Dude, the only person who would give a fuck about that is my mom, and she took an Ambien earlier, so she'll be out cold 'til noon at least. You can bail in the morning, no worries."
Tension that Will hadn't even noticed loosens out of Tunny's stance. He frowns a little in confusion when Will grabs a sleeping bag out of the battered old footlocker by the bed. "Not to sound gay or anything, but there's room for both of us, dude, your bed is huge."
Will brushes aside the comment with a dismissive gesture before he unrolls the sleeping bag out onto the floor. "Flattered as I am that I'm a part of your big gay fantasies," (Tunny makes a face and flips Will off), "I don't want to accidentally hit any of those cuts and make 'em worse or something."
Tunny shrugs (just his right shoulder this time) and simply says, "Suit yourself." He stretches out face-down on the bed and lets out a mix between a sigh and a groan of relief. "God, your bed is so comfortable."
"Oh, enjoy it while you can," Will replies with a smirk, "You're so sleeping on the floor the next time you spend the night. But for now, you can even use my pillow because I'm just that fucking awesome of a friend."
"Whatever."
"Go on, tell me how awesome I am."
"Fine," Tunny mutters, his voice just barely audible, "You're awesome."
Will puts a hand behind his ear in an exaggerated sign of deafness. "What was that?"
"I said it already, motherfucker, now shut the hell up and go to sleep before I use your pillow right upside your head. And don't drool on my jacket," he adds a second later.
Surprised, Will looks at Tunny's jacket in his hand, then back at Tunny, who's facing the wall away from Will. How did he know? Will files that away in the back of his mind to think about later. In the mean time, he stretches out on the floor and rests his head on Tunny's rolled-up camo jacket -- it smells strongly like pot smoke and Axe, but somehow Will finds the combined smells weirdly soothing. "Night, Tunny," he mumbles over one shoulder as he turns onto his side.
"Night." After a few seconds, Tunny coughs and says, "Hey, Will?"
"What?"
There's another long pause, then, "Thanks, man. I owe you one."
Will smiles to himself; given Tunny's weird thing about asking for help, saying something like that was probably a pretty big shot to his pride. It's a warped sort of compliment, coming from Tunny.
"Don't mention it."
I think I went kind of overboard with the angst factor (why do I keep torturing these boys?! /o\) but I think I did a decent job of adding some happy(ish) undertones to balance it out. I welcome and strongly encourage comments of all kinds, even if it's just something simple like "<3" or "I liked this!" -- all I ask is to please be gentle with concrit on account of my poor tiny, fragile creative ego.
That's all I have for now. See my previous post for various other odds and ends including a love meme, news about me getting MSN Messenger, and a pretty nice Stark picspam going on in the comments.
That being said, allow this gif to express how much I adore you all:
-------
"Age considers; youth ventures..." -- Rabindranath Tagore
-------
Cheers.
Title: How's It Going To Be
Author:
emerald_skiesPairing(s): Tunny & Will (gen, maybe some Will/Tunny if you squint)
Rating: PG-13 (just to be safe)
Warnings: Potential triggering mentions/descriptions of domestic violence
Summary: Will has always considered Tunny the strongest person he's ever known, but even the strong need help sometimes. That's what best friends are for, right?
Author's Note: This is a little vignette, a "deleted scene" if you will, that fits in to the Everyone's Heart 'verse (I'll be making a separate "deleted scenes" post with this and a few other ficlets once I finish the story). I'm evidently in an angst-tacular mood these days -- try not to hold it against me?
They say that being a teenager is a time of a lot changes, and that that's part of why it sucks so hard. It sounds like trite, meaningless crap, but Will learns when he's 14 that there's more meaning to that than he could have ever guessed.
It happens on a chilly November night in the middle of Thanksgiving break. It's almost midnight, which means Will's stretched out on his bed, channel surfing in search of something good because he's not even close to tired yet. He settles on an episode of Jerry Springer that's just started -- something about a woman fooling around with four different guys who are going to find out about each other on the show and have a chance to confront her about it.
Just as the first guy comes out onto the stage, Will hears a sound at his window that's different from the usual scrape of the tree branches right outside it -- Will realizes it sounds like knocking. He glances over at the window and almost falls off his bed in surprise. Why?
Because Tunny is crouched on one of the thicker branches that crosses right in front of the window.
Will crosses his room and throws open the window. "Are you fucking crazy?" he demands, "It's freezing outside, pissing down rain, and it's, like, midnight. What are you doing here?" He asks the last question as he reaches out a hand and helps Tunny into his room before closing the window behind him.
Tunny rakes a hand through his rain-drenched hair, which reveals nasty looking bruises circling one of his wrists when the sleeve of his too-big camo jacket slides down a little. Now that he's really looking, Will also notices a bruise forming on one side of Tunny's jaw.
"Jesus," Will whispers faintly. He knows he's staring, but damn if this isn't an appropriate occasion to stare. "What the fuck happened to you?"
"The old man got pissed at my mom," Tunny answers as he shrugs off the jacket (and grimaces in pain as he does it). "He took off his belt, I got in the middle of it...shit happened. He kicked me out, so here I am."
Will finds himself at an honest-to-God loss for words for a second. "Holy shit," he finally says.
"Yeah." Tunny's mouth crooks into a bitter, one-sided smile. "Anyway, I kind of sort of," he pauses, swipes his tongue over his lower lip, then finally mutters, "I need your help." He says it quickly and just above a whisper, and he doesn't meet Will's eyes as he says it. That, Will understands -- something about asking people for help bugs the shit out of Tunny for reasons Will's never been able to figure out.
"Sure," Will says with a deep sigh. He still can't believe this is happening. "Anything. What do you need?"
Tunny grimaces. "Feel free to tell me to fuck off if this is asking too much, but I'm sort of bleeding, including some places on my back that I can't reach. Can you help me patch myself up?"
"Yeah, definitely, one sec." Will ducks out of his room and digs the first aid kit out of the bathroom at the bottom of the stairs up to his room. He gets back just in time to see Tunny shrugging off his black T-shirt very carefully. Will can sort of understand why, considering the state of Tunny's back.
A batch of long, colorful welts criss-cross an ugly looking blotch about halfway down Tunny's back that spreads onto his left shoulder and his side -- he's right, some of them are indeed bleeding sluggishly. Those must be where the buckle got him, Will thinks dazedly. That isn't what really gets Will, though.
What really gets Will is the scars. He can see one or two lines of pale, faded pink on Tunny's right shoulder. The shock hits him like a freight train as he realizes, This isn't the first time.
Will comes out of his fog to find Tunny watching him carefully, trying to gauge Will's reaction. "This isn't the first time, is it?" Will asks quietly.
Slowly, Tunny shakes his head.
"How long?"
Tunny's expression turns from neutral to grim. "Six months, give or take a couple of weeks."
The answer sends a hot, sickening rush of anger coursing through Will. He feels his hands reflexively clench into fists, feels his lips go numb, notices his vision getting weirdly hyper-focused. Will's been pissed off before, but this kind of pure, boiling, concentrated fury is totally new to him. A surprisingly large part of him wants to get his metal baseball bat out of the garage, go back to Tunny's house, and make Tunny's dad so very, very sorry for every last bruise, welt, and scar. More than anything, Will wants to make that mothertfucker answer for all of it.
"Dude, Will," Tunny waves a hand in front of Will's eyes, "Say something."
"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" Will's voice comes out sounding amazingly calm, all things considered.
Tunny swallows hard, his expression suddenly very sad. "It's not you, no one would know if it had been up to me. Johnny only knows because my mom and his mom are, like, best friends, so I'm usually supposed to go to Johnny's house when shit like this happens."
Well, at least that further clears up why Tunny came here -- Johnny's been at his grandma's in Florida all week. Tunny had nowhere else to go.
"Okay." Will takes a few deep breaths until he finally manages to calm himself down, then sets the first aid kit on his bed, opens it up, and sets to fixing Tunny up.
Tunny notices when Will's hand trembles as he smoothes down the first big Band-Aid. "Are you...mad at me?" Tunny asks hesitantly without turning to address Will directly.
Will swallows down a lump that suddenly forms in his throat at how worried Tunny sounds. "No. Jeez, Tunny, why would I be mad at you?"
"Dunno," Tunny mumbles, "Just asking." He suddenly gasps sharply and flinches away from Will's hands. It takes Will a second to figure out that it's because he was pressing down too hard on a particularly nasty looking cut. That just makes Will feel like the biggest tool ever. "Sorry."
Tunny shrugs without thinking and flinches again. "It's cool," he grits out tightly through clenched teeth, "Don't worry about it."
There are a couple of scratches that are either too big or too oddly placed for regular Band-Aids, so Will winds up making some of his own out of gauze and strips of medical tape. He thankfully manages not to make Tunny flinch again, even once he's finished covering the scratches and starts wrapping an Ace bandage over them as best he can manage. When Will finally steps back to inspect his handiwork, he looks up and notices Tunny watching him with a faint, somewhat amused smile on his face. It's an infectious smile; Will finds himself smiling back without even realizing it.
"Thanks, mom." There's the barest hint in Tunny's voice that he's holding back a laugh.
Will can feel the beginnings of a blush heating up his face. "If I were your mom, I would have put a smartass like you up for adoption a long time ago," he grumbles. The fact that he's still trying (unsuccessfully) not to smile sort of spoils the grumpy effect he's going for, though.
On the bright side, it does get Tunny to out-and-out laugh, especially when Will tosses Tunny one of his own black T-shirts (there's no use in putting the bloody one back on, Will explains, so he'll sneak Tunny's shirt into his laundry and give it back later). Fuck it, at least he's laughing, Will thinks to himself, I guess that's worth a little embarrassment.
"Um..." Tunny starts but trails off, looking distinctly uncomfortable and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Will waits for Tunny to get to whatever it is he really doesn't want to say, because he learned long ago that prompting Tunny when he's like this just makes him clam up completely. Will does have a guess as to what's on Tunny's mind, though.
Tunny looks down at the floor, then back up at Will. When he finally manages to talk, he's mumbling so faintly that Will almost can't make out what he says; "Can I crash here with you?" (Cool, Will thinks, I just totally read Tunny's mind). When Will doesn't answer right away, Tunny adds hurriedly, "Don't worry about my mom, she said a while back that she always figures I'm either at your house or Johnny's if I'm not home."
Will rolls his eyes. "Dude, the only person who would give a fuck about that is my mom, and she took an Ambien earlier, so she'll be out cold 'til noon at least. You can bail in the morning, no worries."
Tension that Will hadn't even noticed loosens out of Tunny's stance. He frowns a little in confusion when Will grabs a sleeping bag out of the battered old footlocker by the bed. "Not to sound gay or anything, but there's room for both of us, dude, your bed is huge."
Will brushes aside the comment with a dismissive gesture before he unrolls the sleeping bag out onto the floor. "Flattered as I am that I'm a part of your big gay fantasies," (Tunny makes a face and flips Will off), "I don't want to accidentally hit any of those cuts and make 'em worse or something."
Tunny shrugs (just his right shoulder this time) and simply says, "Suit yourself." He stretches out face-down on the bed and lets out a mix between a sigh and a groan of relief. "God, your bed is so comfortable."
"Oh, enjoy it while you can," Will replies with a smirk, "You're so sleeping on the floor the next time you spend the night. But for now, you can even use my pillow because I'm just that fucking awesome of a friend."
"Whatever."
"Go on, tell me how awesome I am."
"Fine," Tunny mutters, his voice just barely audible, "You're awesome."
Will puts a hand behind his ear in an exaggerated sign of deafness. "What was that?"
"I said it already, motherfucker, now shut the hell up and go to sleep before I use your pillow right upside your head. And don't drool on my jacket," he adds a second later.
Surprised, Will looks at Tunny's jacket in his hand, then back at Tunny, who's facing the wall away from Will. How did he know? Will files that away in the back of his mind to think about later. In the mean time, he stretches out on the floor and rests his head on Tunny's rolled-up camo jacket -- it smells strongly like pot smoke and Axe, but somehow Will finds the combined smells weirdly soothing. "Night, Tunny," he mumbles over one shoulder as he turns onto his side.
"Night." After a few seconds, Tunny coughs and says, "Hey, Will?"
"What?"
There's another long pause, then, "Thanks, man. I owe you one."
Will smiles to himself; given Tunny's weird thing about asking for help, saying something like that was probably a pretty big shot to his pride. It's a warped sort of compliment, coming from Tunny.
"Don't mention it."
I think I went kind of overboard with the angst factor (why do I keep torturing these boys?! /o\) but I think I did a decent job of adding some happy(ish) undertones to balance it out. I welcome and strongly encourage comments of all kinds, even if it's just something simple like "<3" or "I liked this!" -- all I ask is to please be gentle with concrit on account of my poor tiny, fragile creative ego.
That's all I have for now. See my previous post for various other odds and ends including a love meme, news about me getting MSN Messenger, and a pretty nice Stark picspam going on in the comments.
That being said, allow this gif to express how much I adore you all:
-------
"Age considers; youth ventures..." -- Rabindranath Tagore
-------
Cheers.
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-06-02 08:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 03:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 07:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 09:01 am (UTC)I'll be posting it later today, then :)
no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 11:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-02 08:50 pm (UTC)Also, flawless gif.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 03:28 pm (UTC)Also, flawless gif.
It's all JGroff, really. I have about a gazillion gifs of him because he's too awesome to capture in stills alone.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 12:55 pm (UTC)I have about a gazillion gifs of him because he's too awesome to capture in stills alone.
Ah! Perfect definition/slogan.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 11:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 01:06 am (UTC)Especially this part: You almost singlehandedly keep this tiny fandom alive! Thank you!
That honest-to-God made my day, thank you so much for reading and leaving such a lovely comment :)
(Also, your icon makes me grin like a loon because that's the picture I see in my head anytime I write something remotely Will/Tunny related)
no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 03:58 pm (UTC)♥♥♥ FOREVER.
I don't know why I'm capslocking. Probably from all the #feelingz.