By Chance
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
24
Views:
4,264
Reviews:
56
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
24
Views:
4,264
Reviews:
56
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 13
Disclaimer: These characters are mine.
Chapter 13:
“Can I get you something?” Rue offered with extreme caution. Quentin Delacroix made his way over to the couch. Strange enough, he sank down into the same spot Joe Vic usually reserved for himself. His expression blank, but not stony, just a blank mask like a zombie. No emotions were being broadcast or withheld actively.
He snapped out of his daze after a few moments. “Naw, don’t go through any trouble on my part.” Rue nodded, not that he could see her acknowledgement since his eyes hadn’t reached hers since they’d walked inside the apartment.
Quentin’s mouth flapped occasionally as he scrambled to gather his wits about him. No ask how and the rest is easy. Ironically, both were worried about the other’s reaction, though they were terrified themselves. “How--” He began and stopped. “How you been?”
This time he looked at Rue. His eyes and mind battled each other in an internal battle of strength, trying to reconcile what they knew versus what they saw. “Not so good at first, but good now. Really good.”
Quentin took a breath, his broad shoulders stretching to display his impressive swimmer-like build, and plunged headlong into his reason for coming. “After you stopped sending letters, I got worried.”
Rue’s breath hitched. Her brother, really Rueben’s brother, had been worried about him. “I didn’t like dropping you off at the bus station. It felt like I shipping a package, not my brother…But, I guess—No, I see you’ve got your reasons for needing to get away from home.”
“I wanted to write…but--” The look of hurt in her brother’s big blue eyes so much like her own gave her pause. Emotion welled up inside her for the second time that day.
“But what? You didn’t think there’d actually be someone in our godforsaken family that wanted to hear from you? Huh?” He nearly yelled.
A lone tear made its way down her cheek. “Naw, it’s just…after a while, I figure you’d be better off—I’d be better off too.”
Quentin stood suddenly, pacing in front of the couch like a wild animal. “ How so Rueben? How so?”
Now, she was angry. She wasn’t Rueben anymore, she’d never been Rueben and no one would ever call her Rueben if she was still alive and kicking. “ It’s Rue, Quen-tin.” She bit off just as gruffly. “And yeah, I thought I’d be better off. What if one of the others found my letters to you and told Ma or Pa? What then?” She stood up to him, just barely missing his eyes due to their height difference.
“They’d come up her faster than a hurricane in the panhandle and bring me home just to kick the shit outta me. And I’m no one’s punching bag anymore. Not Pa’s, Junior’s or Bobby’s. I miss you and Mama something fierce at times, but I didn’t want y’all tracking me down just to stop me.”
Quentin’s jaw jutted out stubbornly, knowing in his heart everything Rueben—Rue, had said was true. “I don’t understand what you’re doing. Hell, I never understood what you were doing. I took you for a sissy and I defended you, damn it!” He grabbed Rue by the shoulder, tightly but not too tight. “You never gave me a chance to understand. All I remember is Bobby threatening to tell Pa about you wearing Jenny and Becca’s old clothes--”
“They weren’t their old clothes, they were mine! I made them. How can I explain something that’s as natural as breathing, huh? How can I make them see that they’re wrong about me? That I wasn’t some dirty faggot!” She hissed bitterly.
He shook his head starting to walk past her. “No, this isn’t natural.” He grabbed at her chest, expecting to find socks, balloons; some type of false device creating the smooth round bumbs on her chest. “These aren’t natura--” His words dropped to shocked silence as his hands felt the give and firmness of real flesh beneath her shirt.
“It’s all me.” She stammered between gasping breaths.
Quentin gave her a sharp look. “You’re not in trouble, are you? No one’s forcing you to do this to yourself?” He asked suspiciously.
Rue took a calming breath. “No, this was all me. I need to do this for myself. I can’t keep living a lie, Quent. I can’t—I just can’t keep lying to myself about what I feel and about who I really am…I’m just making the outside match the inside.”
The tears Quentin had held back before now were finally free to fall. He was trying to understand. He really did want to and he loved his brother no matter what. He was simply scared for him, so very scared. He held his brother—no, his sister, it was still too odd to say at present, at arm’s length. He babbled his feelings as Rue cried at the overwhelming situation. “I’ve been so worried about you. Anything could have happened to you…I just wanted to make sure you were fine, that I hadn’t made a mistake that afternoon leaving you at that bus station.”
Quentin embraced Rue as she sobbed against his chest. Her words barely audible over her gasping breaths. “ I m—missed you too!”
Joe Vic heard Rue crying beyond the door and a male voice making inaudible sounds. “Hey!” He rushed in, not thinking about who the guy was, but making sure Rue was okay. He tossed the man’s hands off her and slugged him hard on the jaw.
“Get. Up.” Joe Vic growled.
“Stop, Joe Vic. Stop.”
He shook his head. “ He was hurting you and I’m going to hurt him.”
Rue shook her head pitifully. Tears streaming from her pink eyes. “No, he wasn’t hurting. Don’t hurt him… He’s my brother.” She sobbed against Joe Vic’s side.
Brother?
TBC/?
Please read and review.
Chapter 13:
“Can I get you something?” Rue offered with extreme caution. Quentin Delacroix made his way over to the couch. Strange enough, he sank down into the same spot Joe Vic usually reserved for himself. His expression blank, but not stony, just a blank mask like a zombie. No emotions were being broadcast or withheld actively.
He snapped out of his daze after a few moments. “Naw, don’t go through any trouble on my part.” Rue nodded, not that he could see her acknowledgement since his eyes hadn’t reached hers since they’d walked inside the apartment.
Quentin’s mouth flapped occasionally as he scrambled to gather his wits about him. No ask how and the rest is easy. Ironically, both were worried about the other’s reaction, though they were terrified themselves. “How--” He began and stopped. “How you been?”
This time he looked at Rue. His eyes and mind battled each other in an internal battle of strength, trying to reconcile what they knew versus what they saw. “Not so good at first, but good now. Really good.”
Quentin took a breath, his broad shoulders stretching to display his impressive swimmer-like build, and plunged headlong into his reason for coming. “After you stopped sending letters, I got worried.”
Rue’s breath hitched. Her brother, really Rueben’s brother, had been worried about him. “I didn’t like dropping you off at the bus station. It felt like I shipping a package, not my brother…But, I guess—No, I see you’ve got your reasons for needing to get away from home.”
“I wanted to write…but--” The look of hurt in her brother’s big blue eyes so much like her own gave her pause. Emotion welled up inside her for the second time that day.
“But what? You didn’t think there’d actually be someone in our godforsaken family that wanted to hear from you? Huh?” He nearly yelled.
A lone tear made its way down her cheek. “Naw, it’s just…after a while, I figure you’d be better off—I’d be better off too.”
Quentin stood suddenly, pacing in front of the couch like a wild animal. “ How so Rueben? How so?”
Now, she was angry. She wasn’t Rueben anymore, she’d never been Rueben and no one would ever call her Rueben if she was still alive and kicking. “ It’s Rue, Quen-tin.” She bit off just as gruffly. “And yeah, I thought I’d be better off. What if one of the others found my letters to you and told Ma or Pa? What then?” She stood up to him, just barely missing his eyes due to their height difference.
“They’d come up her faster than a hurricane in the panhandle and bring me home just to kick the shit outta me. And I’m no one’s punching bag anymore. Not Pa’s, Junior’s or Bobby’s. I miss you and Mama something fierce at times, but I didn’t want y’all tracking me down just to stop me.”
Quentin’s jaw jutted out stubbornly, knowing in his heart everything Rueben—Rue, had said was true. “I don’t understand what you’re doing. Hell, I never understood what you were doing. I took you for a sissy and I defended you, damn it!” He grabbed Rue by the shoulder, tightly but not too tight. “You never gave me a chance to understand. All I remember is Bobby threatening to tell Pa about you wearing Jenny and Becca’s old clothes--”
“They weren’t their old clothes, they were mine! I made them. How can I explain something that’s as natural as breathing, huh? How can I make them see that they’re wrong about me? That I wasn’t some dirty faggot!” She hissed bitterly.
He shook his head starting to walk past her. “No, this isn’t natural.” He grabbed at her chest, expecting to find socks, balloons; some type of false device creating the smooth round bumbs on her chest. “These aren’t natura--” His words dropped to shocked silence as his hands felt the give and firmness of real flesh beneath her shirt.
“It’s all me.” She stammered between gasping breaths.
Quentin gave her a sharp look. “You’re not in trouble, are you? No one’s forcing you to do this to yourself?” He asked suspiciously.
Rue took a calming breath. “No, this was all me. I need to do this for myself. I can’t keep living a lie, Quent. I can’t—I just can’t keep lying to myself about what I feel and about who I really am…I’m just making the outside match the inside.”
The tears Quentin had held back before now were finally free to fall. He was trying to understand. He really did want to and he loved his brother no matter what. He was simply scared for him, so very scared. He held his brother—no, his sister, it was still too odd to say at present, at arm’s length. He babbled his feelings as Rue cried at the overwhelming situation. “I’ve been so worried about you. Anything could have happened to you…I just wanted to make sure you were fine, that I hadn’t made a mistake that afternoon leaving you at that bus station.”
Quentin embraced Rue as she sobbed against his chest. Her words barely audible over her gasping breaths. “ I m—missed you too!”
Joe Vic heard Rue crying beyond the door and a male voice making inaudible sounds. “Hey!” He rushed in, not thinking about who the guy was, but making sure Rue was okay. He tossed the man’s hands off her and slugged him hard on the jaw.
“Get. Up.” Joe Vic growled.
“Stop, Joe Vic. Stop.”
He shook his head. “ He was hurting you and I’m going to hurt him.”
Rue shook her head pitifully. Tears streaming from her pink eyes. “No, he wasn’t hurting. Don’t hurt him… He’s my brother.” She sobbed against Joe Vic’s side.
Brother?
TBC/?
Please read and review.