it's called freefall

dodgedhalo​:

“I can’t waste all my best material in one shot, how amateur of me would that be?” Percy questioned, dismissing her remarks about his comments with a wave of his hand. Did a stranger really deserve all of the harshness he was throwing her way? Probably not, but it was the best way PJ knew how to deal with the massive bombshell his father dropped onto his lap without warning.

“How am I supposed to respect someone I know nothing about? Your rule has some exceptions Daddio, I think I found one of them.” The brunette wasn’t going to admit to owing this woman the benefit of the doubt, as far as he knew it was Pope’s decision to keep her a secret from the rest of his family but his stubbornness fought against him. “Is dinner supposed to place a Band-Aid on this conversation until we’re ready to pull it off again?” He asked with a huff, placing his hand along the side of his left temple to try to rub away his burning frustrations. “Steak?”    

…

She looked off in the opposite direction of the two men speaking in the room. Things had instantly gotten more complicated than they were before. She knew marrying a man eighteen years her senior would cause some issues, but she thought they were estranged and it would be out of her mind. Sighing, “I can’t wait for the insults,” she mumbled, knowing that they would all be hurled towards her eventually. She looked across at the man she was married to, “it’s fine,” this was a no strings attached marriage. If things got too complicated, they could leave amicably and be done with it, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to end it quite yet.

Her fingers found her temples, rubbing gently in hopes that she could will the thumping in her skull, but it was probably wishful thinking, “I didn’t do anything, but okay,” she looked over at the younger Dawson, wishing he hadn’t shown up. Alara didn’t enjoy dealing with complicated matters and this became the biggest complication in her life. “I’m fine with whatever babe,” she mumbled. @heavenends​

“Steak,” Dawson nodded. “Fire up the grill, set a table, sit outside and enjoy summer before New York turns gray again. If you wanna help or don’t, it’s up to you, but at least we can be outside and everyone can sit on their own corner of the picnic table.”

He smirked despite the severity of the imminent disliking that was brewing between all. Dawson knew both of them well enough that there was a small attempt at establishing not just a boundary, but a step above the other. Percy, as his son, had his home threatened by what his father’s impulsivity. Alara’s arrangement wasn’t exactly as she planned and they’d been making it work with ease until one pain in the ass he couldn’t help but put on a pedestal.

“How about you set the table once you settle into your room, PJ, and Alara you help me bring everything outside?” He asked. It would give Percy the house to himself for just a while, his chance to investigate, and some privacy for the other two to come down from the sudden reunion. He had higher hopes for it, better circumstances in his plans. “Please? Or, whatever you’d like to do instead. You can take over the grill if you want, PJ, but I can make you a welcome home dinner, how’s that sound?”

“They must be full of themselves. I’m sure they’re great guys, don’t get me wrong, but there’s this type of stigma around firemen and if they’re young and people crowd around the fire trucks. I’m sure they think that they’re ready to be in next year’s calendar.” Maybe they were all hot and she should come by. “But if they’re single, i might need to drop over some muffins.”

“Do people drop in to get a peak?” She didn’t know how accessible a fire station was and whether or not it was her mind that was in the gutter when he mentioned a bunch of hot men who had fires in their pants. 

Peering over her shoulder at the teens, she looked down at the box and pointed to one. “That’s the top recommendation that you have for me. It’s cheap as well so it works for the kids and for the other firemen if you want to buy them in bulk.”

“Nobody would object to that, that’s for sure. I’d upcharge them the first time though, then dwindle down. They might start to expect muffins more than once if you just hand them out,” He chuckled. The station was always filled with groaning after a long shift, pangs of hunger and some need to find comfort after the adrenaline rush died down. Not everyone could go home afterwards, and so there was always a conspiracy on how to get the goods to the station without having to clock out for a break.

He shrugged, “Some people do. I think shoving a muffin to the receptionist might get you some access at least past the front door.” 

Dawson could feel the sudden tension behind him now as the kids paused under her gaze and point, and for a moment, he finds himself a little awe struck at how easily she inflicts it. 

Her own father had never been so strong when it came to battling his addiction with alcohol. It was painful to watch as he drank himself to the grave, but it gave her hope seeing that not everyone lost that battle. “You should be proud. I mean everyone you know should be proud. It takes a lot to stay off the bottle and even more to be around and not be tempted.” She had a thousand compliments lined up, but she doubted he needed any of them. Not when it was obvious that this wasn’t his first time out and probably wouldn’t be his last either.

By the looks of it, his friends were harmless and if they weren’t, Luciana had no doubt that the man would check their every move. That was the role he played for the night, wasn’t it? A role he seemed confident in playing.

“I wouldn’t even give them an option. Just take them somewhere and park. As long as there’s food, it doesn’t seem like any of them mind.” She was making a loose assumption based off of a quick moment’s worth of judgement. Decent guy and unmarried, yet she was only interested in playing into the flirting game for the tip that would follow. “Whiner? I guess it’s good to know.” Flashing the man a smirk, she shook her head and turned her attention back to the only man in the group without a beer in his hand.

Nodding, tongue rolled across pearly whites before she smiled. “Just a month. Seems like forever at this point.” All because she’d been too much of a coward to reach out to the father of her child sooner and the anticipation had been driving her insane. Now, all she had to do was step up and be a decent mother and maybe she’d get to stick around and battle some of the guilt that had consumed her for two solid years now.

“I think I’m still on the fence. Not that it’s bad, but I’m trying to find my footing on where I belong. I spent most of my life in the same place and New York, it’s,” she paused, shaking her head as she struggled for the word she was looking for. “It’s different. In a good way, but between us, I’m dreading the cold weather.”

“You’ve got me there, that’s a good idea,” He nodded, grin piercing the corners of his mouth at her suggestion. “This is the third bar of the night, and I agreed to five for the crawl, so maybe eliminating choice all together balances out the scales.”

Their youth was one that Dawson had seen in the movies, one that wasn’t all that real because of his own past that poisoned the innocence of it. There was a time where he was desperate to have it, always going too far, and then a time where he despised it in a shade of green from the sidelines. That had kept him safe, though. The denial had kept them all safe until it didn’t. Dawson lingered around places like these with his friends to be watchful and to calm his own lurching stomach at the thought of another one going too far, even if they never did. 

SEYDA KNEW BREAKFAST. But more importantly, she knew teenage tastebuds. Her sister had been complicated throughout most of her life and she felt that if something was white and sweet, then her sister would eat it. From there on, it was Seyda’s job to find things that were at least healthy enough that she wouldn’t fear the common diseases. 

“I don’t usually have a few seconds to spare. I’m often alone here and while the customers are an handful themselves, my employees are usually working their first job and like to second guess every single step they do. So i’m kind of like a glorified baby sitter most days. One that has no time.”

“I can’t blame you there. I work at the fire station, and I’m no where on top, but most of my team is a lot younger than me and they’re riding the wave of thinking they’re hot shit. And they are, to some extent, so I can’t blame them. I am snapping my fingers at them here and there, though, to remind them that the fire is the one on the building and not the one in their pants.”

Though as much havoc as they gave Dawson, he wouldn’t trade it for a single thing. They kept him on his toes and he came to see them as the family he sometimes felt he lacked since his daughter’s death.

dodgedhalo​:

The clank of his beer cap rattled through the kitchen as Percy tossed it in the sink, slowly he brought it to his lips as an eyebrow raised in the girl’s direction. He didn’t have time to vocalize a reaction, but he was amused by her outburst as he felt the tug of his father dragging him into the living room. He knew how this went, countless talks where they shared their feelings like they were in a meeting — but the person who usually sat beside him was currently being pushed to the back of his mind. There’d been a lot that he and his father needed to catch up on, the added addition in the room being one of them and proving the perfect deflection to anything regarding himself.

“No yelling and are we going to address the elephant of throwing something — poorly, she’s got bad aim — but regardless it seems like there’s only one child in the room.” He shrugged, taking another sip as he clenched the neck of the glass bottle tighter. “Your wife? Are you trying to tell me that you erased all the memories of our life with my mother in a year?” He questioned, his eyes narrowing while he avoided the woman and focused on his father instead. “I’ve been with the parent that didn’t fucking abandon me while it seems like you’ve been frequenting Hooters.” His jaw clenched, trying to steer the conversation away from all things Seattle. “I left.” He continued through pursed lips, a slight head tilt signaling to Dawson that he wouldn’t be continuing with outsiders present.

She wanted to crawl out of the chair Dawson had led her to and disappear. Not only was the reality of her technically being a step mother truly setting in for her, but insults were being hurled her way constantly by him. If she didn’t wasn’t trying to be the bigger person, she would have teared the little shit to pieces. She didn’t blame him for being a little shit to her, he was surprised that his dad had a new wife that wasn’t much older than him. If her father had pulled that shit, she would have driven the woman away without any remorse. Running her hands through her hair, she sighed as he told her no yelling. Living in the house she grew up in with seven other members meant that yelling was a common occurrence in the Osman house and Alara happened to be incredibly overdramatic and loved the attention on her.

She glared at him, “Hooters? Is that all you could come up with?” First the maid, now the Hooters girl. She had probably been called worse in high school, but it pissed her off to no end that it was coming from him. Leaning back into the chair as she crossed her arms over her chest, “and I’m just supposed to be okay with him hurling insults my way?” She looked towards Dawson. She didn’t want to deal with family therapy at the moment, not when she had her own issues she avoided dealing with. “Should I even be here?” She asked, “I mean, this is an unconventional situation for all of us, but don’t you two need to catch up or something?” She wanted to crawl out of her skin because of the awkwardness. @heavenends​

Dawson shook his head, a small release of the tension growing between his temples. He had been dreading the question of how quickly he had moved on, but mainly from anyone but his ex-wife. They had agreed on the divorce with ease, mainly because there had been a lull they hadn’t moved passed in years. Andy’s death had pulled them apart, released every word they swallowed in order to make a comfortable silence in what they thought had to be the way things would always be. When she passed, they realized how easily things could change.

“Not really, because this is catching up,” Dawson pointed out. “Why separate you both, when apparently, these are the new circumstances? PJ, this has always been your home. That won’t change. But it’s the same as it was when you were a kid that under this roof, the most important rule is respect.”

He owed them both a talk, but he could only imagine the danger of what would come with the impression of starting to discuss things behind closed doors. There had been a wedge between him and PJ after his sister’s death, one that hadn’t been entirely discussed with Alara since they tied the knot so quickly.

“THESE AREN’T THE GOOD WAFFLES.” She pointed to the box, tapping on the outside of it with a shake of her head. She didn’t like those and she’d tried most of them because she wasn’t able to purchase anything from anywhere else outside of her manager discount. 

“I can show you the ones that don’t taste like cardboard, especially when paired with the right syrup.” Whether he’d take her up on it was up to him. She looked back at the pyramid and then at him, clearing unpleased with what he was saying. She didn’t want to accept anything. 

“I don’t think I’ve got that much authority. People take one look at me and then laugh because apparently I look like a child in a human body.” Someone had told her that and though it had been absurd, people seemed to think it was true. 

Dawson was caught off guard by her shift in attention, but intrigued by what advice she’d interjected with upon the storm of the antics of unsupervised adolescence. Despite the small butt of their heads, she seemed determined that she’d come out the winner in one apparent conflict. With a nod, Dawson followed her lead and entrusted whatever breakfast he’d prepare into her hands. 

“It’s… impressive that you can be though? I’m sorry if that’s out of line… it’s just, most people can’t be around their bad habits without caving.” She bit down harshly on her bottom lip to stifle the inevitable ramble that would follow if she didn’t. “Of course.”

It only took a moment to scoop ice into a fresh glass that normally would have held some kind of shelved booze. Instead, she reached for the water and pushed down the trigger until the glass was full to the brim. “Consider it on the house,” she teased, planting a napkin down before placing the cup atop it. If he was going to babysit his drunken friends, the least she could do was offer him a friendly conversation on the side.

“So, you come and sit with them, but you get to call all of the shots? Doesn’t sound so bad after all, I guess? Do you already have your spot picked out?” While she spoke, she worked out drying out a few glasses that had been washed and were ready for use again. “I’ve only been here for about a month. Don’t think I know them yet. They seem like a tough crowd to forget.” In a good way, it seemed. They were laughing, yet keeping to themselves and weren’t giving her a hard time.

Her attention was only pulled away from the man for a moment. One of his friends wanted another crown and coke and had decided to lay down a lie too. So much for them not bothering her, huh? After a gentle rejection and a smile, she shifted back to the area where he sat with an amused look on her features. “He’s a friendly guy, huh? I didn’t see a wedding band, which usually makes me feel better when they lay lines down like that.”

“It’s hard, and not really something you should do, but I made a point to learn how to handle it. I’ve managed to convince myself that when I drink, it’s no good to anyone. Just smelling a corona already makes my skin crawl, so I’ve ruined the experience completely,” He said with a chuckle. Dawson had managed to create a completely adversary attitude towards alcohol, but it wasn’t hard when that hadn’t been the worst of his problems. It reminded him of his mother, whose memories had turned more than sour which made it easy to taint what was suppose to be a bottled good time. 

He looked over his shoulder at his friend who stumbled away with a laugh. This time, he didn’t let his own echo of it be silenced. His grin pierced his cheeks with enough livelihood that he could be mistaken for more than liquid confidence in his glass. 

“I’m betting on some place just outside the town over by the farms. As long as I drive, they can’t argue where it is we go,” Dawson said. “But that guy? Not married, but it might be because he’s a whiner when he’s sober. He’s the worst to get him to agree except when he’s drunk where he trusts everyone’s opinion. That might be the only I’m worried about on the drive over.”

Dawson looked over to them. The intention behind every tip of their glass was innocent, and he knew to some extent, well deserved. He didn’t disapprove of their victory calls and all he wanted was to ensure that they’d have another day to be just as victorious to celebrate again. 

HEAVEN ENDS | DAWSON’S TATTOOS

dodgedhalo​:

His eyes briefly darted to the half naked woman in the living room, not letting it slow him down from continuing his walk into the kitchen. He thought about how his mother got her amusement from comparing him to his father, digging an invisible knife into his chest whenever he screwed up. PJ didn’t dig much into the cause of their divorce, figuring that the absence of his sister was the downfall of it all, but maybe he was missing something bigger — the real reason why she’d make him sleep outside on the front porch when she sensed the glaze over his eyes. It sucked when his father left, nine months wasn’t long enough before tearing another page out of the book that made up their family and it left Percy there to pick up all of the pieces.

He went for the fridge, pulling out a beer and twisting off the cap before turning his attention to Dawson quickly walking after him. “Pop, Dad — Dawson…” He chimed in before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a long sip. “Didn’t you hear the harmonica? Who else do you know that still plays on of those?” He shrugged. “Of course she knows, but she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Percy scanned the room, his eyes falling back on the young woman that seemed to be watching their every move. “How long has the maid staff been hiring so young? Could I of skipped college altogether and just become a maid instead? Seems like it has some perks.”

…

The scene in front of her was complete chaos: Dawson yelling after the younger guy, PJ as he just paced around the entire living room, making himself at home. The moment that it clicked exactly who this guy was, she had a million different things going through her mind. Jesus Christ, it dawned on her that she was a stepmother, technically. Her face scrunched at the thought of it. She had completely pushed his kids out of her mind because he didn’t speak to his son and his daughter was, sadly, gone. She rubbed her temples as she let everything sink in, the sound of the harmonica was imprinted on her brain.

Yes, they were married, but it was a spur of the moment thing and that meant they didn’t know every little detail about each other and she was fine with it, until right now. The moment the word maid left his mouth, she saw red and grabbed the closest thing, which happened to be a vase in the shape of the bust of David, and hurled it across the room. It shattered in front of the little shit, “maid? I have a fucking master’s,” she glared at the two men. She didn’t even care that she was pantsless anymore, “but thanks for basically calling me a whore, really appreciate that.” Letting out a sigh, “are you going to tell him, Dawson? Or should I?”

His body seemed to move slower than he anticipated, a twist that made his chest ache and his stomach churn tugging at the center of it all. How many years had it been since he’d seen Percy, and how long had it been that he was keeping Alara a secret? Part of his motivation for their jump off the deep end had been how distant he had become with his family and aside from the need for a thrill, he had finally taken his own advice that he threw over and over again in NA meeting to take the leap and start a new. Standing still is just as bad as taking a step back. Dawson had forced himself to change the pattern by opening a new door all together, but he had yet to consider just how he was going to tell his son. His ex-wife had known first, some courtesy to all their time together, but he didn’t expect much with how old and departed from his affairs Percy had been to tell him much yet.

He watched him crack open the beer, the smoke that lifted from under its lid making him uneasy. He had never told Percy or Andy about his past or his struggle in fear they would only try and learn from it in all the wrong ways. The best way, he thought, had been to shield them from it all together. He had taught them to not drink, and when Dawson ever did, it was limited to a special occasion toast and only if his week has been blissful as to not chase the resolve a sip could be provide. He had never struggled with alcohol, but he knew how desperate an escape was. He had the marks on his arm to prove it.

At the crash of the ceramic, Dawson was reminded of a time where this flare for the dramatics was something he used to relish. It used to be a reaction, a jolt of life, that meant his mother was still vivid and kicking. It had taken him some time to move past that, to not seek out even the worst of acknowledgements just to know he was being seen after living so long as a speck in her euphoric haze. However, it seemed that it came from more than his circumstances as Percy’s arrival, down to the way he shifted on his feet, mimicked Dawson’s sway.

He moved between them, a small change in his body language that was reserved for certain matters. Percy would know it well. Dawson had never raised his voice at his children, and never to any of those he did his best to help in empty conference rooms with smell of stale coffee. He took them both by the wrist, though there was a motive behind standing between them in the case one wanted to retaliate once more. Two fingers wrapped around bangle and leather bracelet, any tug done gently but never letting go until they were seated in one of the chairs that faced the couch. He stood there, looking out to the room before settling on to the couch. The silence buzzed in his ears, and Dawson adjusted himself on the white canvas where his boots were on the seat cushions and his back against the wall. He accommodated his discomfort until he could feel himself settle back in his skin.

“For one, there’s no yelling in this house,” He started. “You know that, PJ, and Alara, you’ll catch up soon. I’ve never raised my voice once to either one of you and I expect the same between you to, especially since you’re my kid and this is my wife. I won’t act like it won’t be hard. You’re both glutton’s for getting what you want, whatever the means, and you may have met your match. I’m no fool, though. It’s a two way street to respect each other, but it’s one house.”

He paused. It wasn’t the introduction he anticipated, but it would have to do.

Lips parted and formed a shocked oval shape, brows lifting as she realized what he meant by that. Granted, she didn’t have many upstanding alcoholics coming for moral support, but it didn’t lessen the guilt that rattled in the pit of her stomach. “I’m so sorry,” she exhaled, her face flushing red. “I’ll have to remember that, but can I get you anything? A water? Soda?”

Fingers fumbled with the dish towel as she hovered near the only person in the bar that wasn’t there to drink. Luckily, her bartending buddy at the other end had things covered. “If that’s the case, then yeah, you definitely wouldn’t be the best judge,” she teased, thankful that they’d moved past the mishap from moments earlier. “So, you’re just watching over them for the night and making sure none of them make total assholes of themselves? Sounds like heavy task for one person.”

“No need to apologize. It’s not exactly the place you go when you’re not into it anymore,” Dawson assured her with a grin, a curl of his lips he was notorious for adjusting the atmosphere with. “A water’s good, if you don’t mind.”

Alcohol hadn’t been the worst of his vices, and it had been easier to shake off than the rest. It slowed him down, and all he wanted to do back then was keep himself moving. He wasn’t guaranteed a place to rest his head, or even a place to keep himself busy. A little help to swirl his surroundings and keep him entertained doing nothing but roaming was all he wanted, and at some point, all he needed. Those days were long gone, but he could still remember them.

“Oh, I’ve got my compensation to keep it all worth it,” He laughed. “They pay for the gas, and they pay for breakfast the next morning and it’s my place of choice. I’ve only been going out with these guys for a while, though. Do they have a reputation in here?”

SEYDA PEERED OVER HER SHOULDER at the male and nodded her head. “I’m assuming that’s the case. If I become youtube famous because of this video, I might have to crawl in a hole and never surface again.” It wasn’t the first time kids had dome stupid thing but it was the first time she’d fallen for it so hard. 

“I’ll give you a gift card if you help me make sure that this doesn’t tip over and then you find them for me.” She would love to get them banned even though that wasn’t nearly as effective without anyway to actually keep them out of the store. But she’d know their faces and be smarter next time.

“You’ve got me there,” Dawson agreed, hand in place to steady the structure and taking some of his own groceries to rebuilt its foundation. 

The waffles, a small olive branch to his son, would have to replaced with how long he’d been going up and down the aisles trying to perfect the dinner that would serve as a treaty between him and his new wife. However, they served as the perfect base for one of the towers as what was placed on top of it stuck with the condensation. 

dodgedhalo​:

Percy’s arrival wasn’t one that anyone was prepared for, luckily his father had lived in the house that was once used for vacations only. He wasn’t one that sold anything short, what better way was there to announce his entrance than with music? PJ cleared his throat, digging his hand into a slightly damp front pocket of his jeans, hoping that his trip to the community pool didn’t cause his instrument any harm — then he’d need another plan.

A grin spread across his cheeks as the metal shined against the sun, bringing his harmonica up to his lips and playing the tune of Smoke on the Water as loud as his lungs would allow. He almost didn’t hear the door swing open, lifting his gaze to meet his father’s eyes at he stood in the doorway. “What? Was it bad or did you forget what your only son looked like?” He questioned with a laugh, a grin soon spreading across his features. “That’s pretty harsh Pops, I look just like you — shit, am I interrupting something?” The concern in his voice was minimal, using the space between the man and the doorway to squeeze himself inside the house he knew all too well.

Alara whined at Dawson as he pulled away, looking at the door, “it’s nothing,” she breathed out against his lips, her hand grabbing at his chin, but it was useless as he fumbled with the button of his jeans and walked towards their front door. She took the afternoon off and had hoped to get it in, but life had other plans. She pushed herself off the granite countertop with an annoyed huff and grabbed her discarded jeans off the floor. Who would be interrupting them at this time of the day? Her hands found her hair, smoothing it out so that whoever was at the door wouldn’t realize what the two of them had just been doing.

She walked towards their living room, her jeans still in her hands, as the stranger let themselves in. She screamed out, “jesus fuck, who are you?!” She looked at the shirtless man who was dripping water on the hardwood floors before she scrambled to put on her clothes, “Dawson?” She yelled out looking at the other man before her eyes found the younger man once more as something in her mind clicked. She had hoped this wasn’t who she thought it was.

All of his life, everyone who met the Dawson boys— or maybe now, they should be the Dawson men together— would tell him how much Percy looked like him. It took a long time for him to see it. When he looked back at his childhood photos, the few polaroids that now had faded with time, he saw a different in the light in their faces. As a child, Percy had been full of life. Every scream and cry he took in full, cherished it just as much as every laugh and babble. He had done his best to raise Percy and Andy in the safest haven he could provide. He never wanted to see the similarities because his past was filled with sunken cheeks and cheerful recollections twisted solely for his own survival.

There was no denying it, though. In just two years, Percy had looked more like him than he remembered but in the ways he had hoped against. There was something dull about his son, but he pushed the thought away. He had seen what happened to Andromeda, been closer to it than he had. There was no way.