069. Kiss

Mar. 26th, 2013 08:31 pm
what_fourth_wall: (Z - Distress)
The one kiss ever shared between them came after he stormed out of his house, his father’s incoherent yells chasing them both out. He was feeling so much that he didn’t know what to do.

“Wade! Stop!”

He stopped. Jennie, a little out of breath, caught up to him. She hugged him fiercely. “He’s wrong, you know.”

Wade shook his head. She kissed his forehead. It didn’t stop the tears of anger, shame, sorrow, and so many other feelings, but it did pierce right through everything and get his attention. One simple, non-romantic kiss, and it meant so very much.

028. Try

Mar. 26th, 2013 08:16 pm
what_fourth_wall: (Z - Nopenopenope)
Once, and only once, did Wade try having Jennie over to his house, and only because she insisted. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his dad – but he knew what his dad was and he was embarrassed. It is sad that the visit did not go worse than imagined.

“Pick it up you little shit.” Derrick stood over a tumbler that he himself had drunkenly knocked over. Wade complied, hoping to end it quickly.

“Bastard left me alone in the world,” Derrick looked up at Jennie. “And you know what, little girl? He’s gonna ruin you too. Mark my words.”
what_fourth_wall: (Z - Jacket Cool)
“Here.” Wade set a bottle of good Scotch down in front of Derrick.

“Thanks.” Derrick opened it and poured. There were no questions about where it had come from or how Wade had gotten it.

“Tell me a story. About ‘Nam.”

The man looked at the boy, already more a man than the father. For a few seconds, he appraised him. Then he nodded. No smile – just a nod. What he did do was pour Wade his first drink and shove it over to him. Then he began the story of the time he earned his Purple Heart. Wade listened.
what_fourth_wall: (Z - serious)
Wade stared at fading bruises in the mirror. At twelve, he had realized that his father was no war hero. At thirteen, he had called Derrick on it. And at thirteen, he had learned that his father believed his own fantasies so much that he would hurt his own son to protect those lies. His world was that fragile. The truth would break him.

He resolved something right then. The boy would not become the father. He would never lose himself in his own fantasies. No matter how bad it got.

It was not a promise that he would keep.
what_fourth_wall: (Z - Not buying it)
For all his faults, Derrick was not a physically abusive man. Verbally, yes. But not physically. It wasn’t because he was a good person; it was because he was too weak of a person. Too afraid. But he did hit Wade once, the very first, and only, time Wade every suggested his war stories were lies. Wade crumpled to the ground. But he got back up. He hit back. And his dad beat the shit out of him, but it wasn’t a clean fight. Both walked away with many, many bruises. Wade’s bruises would heal. His father’s most likely wouldn’t.
what_fourth_wall: (Z - ...Really.)
Derrick Wilson was not a Canadian. His son was, because he had been born there, but he was not. He was an American that had fled the Vietnam draft many years ago. He had been an expatriate then, and his son, following in his footsteps, was now at the ripe old age of thirteen. Deeply conservative and unable to reconcile that with his lack of patriotism, he had a dozen stories of his time as a war hero in ‘Nam. Not even his son believed them any more, and he was the only one who ever had. But Derrick believed.
what_fourth_wall: (Z - Pout)
Family was a man that told you stories of a war he never fought in and medals he never got. Family was a man that, in his (many) darker moments, felt the need to always remind you that the reason you didn’t have a mom was because you killed her on the way out – whether you asked the question or not. Wade had only asked once, and had been answered a thousand times for it. Was it another lie? Did it matter? Family was a pet you wanted and never got because “You’ll kill that too.” Family was a lie.

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