#homophobia reference

Implied past abuse, homophobia and alcohol. BBU.

If you’re just here for the epistolary material, scroll to the end! Preceding piece: Everyone.

“See you later, Phil.”

The last person left the office. It was Friday night, and Roman had gone home with Dillon, Joel and Phil had finished up, and Tyler was left working late with Charlie on this stupid urgent Christmas thing. The world outside the windows was a dark void, speckled by street lights. The office was weirdly quiet without Roman washing up or pottering around tidying. Hell, if they stayed late enough the cleaner would show up.

Charlie had been quiet all week. Roman was fucking limping from his stress. They needed to make sure everything was sorted before they closed and all took the week off. Charlie didn’t want to be fixing shit while he was having Christmas with his girlfriend.

Tyler would probably go visit his mom. She got lonely at this time of year. Maybe he’d be able to take Ro, as well. Give him a proper holiday. Introduce him…

“Let’s stop there,” Charlie said, leaning back and running a hand through his flattened quiff, as if trying to coax more life into it. He always over-oiled his hair to keep it in shape. Shaking his hand now would feel greasy.

Tyler closed his notebook gladly, dropping his pen on top. Most of their clients wouldn’t be doing business during the festive period, but they also didn’t want the app to break. It was their first time closing the office for a week; last year they’d barely taken seven days off between them. Planning around the issue before it happened was how Charlie liked to do things, but it was a headache.

“I wanted to talk to you about Roman,” Charlie said.

"Mother, fuck the pope. He's not the only one who can talk to God."

"Okay, then, consider this. Your grades won't matter if you get cancelled on Twitter."

Director Sanvers Rated T Set in [Three] AO3 Pt 9/?

Alex wakes to the door opening and rapid clacking on the floor.

She opens one eye, arm wrapped around Maggie tightening as the other fumbles for any sort of weapon until she recognizes the figures coming through the door.

Wet presses against her arm.  She blinks at Mandy.  She bends her arm up to scratch behind her ears.

Mandy steps closer, starting to lick the side of Alex’s face.

Maggie shifts.

“Mandy, no,” she whispers.

Mandy whimpers.  She jumps slightly, getting her front paws on the couch and laying her head on Alex’s shoulder to try to reach Maggie.

Maggie reaches out, scratches Mandy’s snout.  Mandy nudges at her hand with her nose before licking it.

Alex can just hear the soft whines from Mandy, the tightness in each breath Maggie takes.  She murmurs softly as she nudges Maggie upright.  She rubs Maggie’s back as she whimpers.

She shouldn’t have let Maggie fall asleep on her like that.  It couldn’t have been good for her ribs, her lung, her head.

Maggie slumps against her side, one hand still scratching at Mandy’s head as the other arm gingerly wrapped around her side.

“What’s your pain level?” Alex asks.

Maggie shakes her head, screws her eyes shut, grimaces.

“I’ll take that as really bad.”

Maggie nods.

Mandy whines as she sits next to the couch.

Kara appears in front of them.  She hands Alex Maggie’s pills and a glass of juice.

Alex nods at her, quietly persuades Maggie to swallow the pills.  Maggie curls into her as soon as she’s done.

“Breakfast will be ready soon,” Kara says.

Alex looks over Maggie’s head, over the back of the couch.

Vasquez and Erin are in the kitchen, seamlessly moving around each other.  Alex doesn’t look at the closet, at the cabinet over the fridge, but their presence and the bottles within scream at her.

She has to get rid of the alcohol.

Or at least find other hiding spots.

She turns back around.  She pats her lap, urging Mandy to jump up onto her, and buries her trembling hand into Mandy’s fur.

She needs a drink soon.

She focuses on keeping her hand as still as possible, just barely listening to Kara talk to Maggie.  She soaks in the warmth of Maggie next to her, of Mandy in her lap.  She picks at the food Vasquez and Erin bring them.

“Danvers, can you come help me with something?”

Alex blinks at Vasquez for a moment, then nods.  Kara takes Mandy from her lap, then takes her spot next to Maggie.

Vasquez doesn’t want help.  Alex knows that even before she’s led to the balcony.

She leans back into one of the corners, against the building.  Vasquez looks out at the city.

Alex’s heart pounds in her ears.  She crosses her arms, trapping her trembling hand between her side and her arm.

“I know how it feels,” Vasquez says.  They turn, leaning back against the railing, crossing their arms.  “Erin got sick.  Really sick.  Pneumonia with complications.  She was in the hospital for almost two weeks.”  They shrug with one shoulder.  “It was 2005.  We weren’t married.  They wouldn’t tell me anything.  They wouldn’t even let me stay in the waiting room.”

Alex’s stomach turns.

“I know how you feel right now,” Vasquez continues.  “Scared.  Pissed.  Lonely.  All with the knowledge that if you weren’t queer, you would be in that room right now.”

Alex ducks her head, clenches her jaw.

“I just…I want you to know that you can talk to me about all of this, or not talk, whichever you need.”

Alex keeps her eyes on the ground.  She nods.

She can sense Vasquez as they approach the door and stop.

“I’m serious, Alex,” they say.  “I know you aren’t going to want to lean on Maggie or Lucy, but this isn’t something you have to handle alone.”

The words are on the tip of Alex’s tongue.  The urge to ask for help barrels through her.  She wants to tell Vasquez about the bottles and the drinking and the pain.

Usual fit:

Yesterday's look: