got to learn the golden rule

[edgeofyourseat]

He was right; Delaney Sr. gave him ten kinds of hell. He's off school for another week.

He's not supposed to be back at school by the end of it, but he can't stand the inside of his fucking house any longer, so he goes. He figures the schoolyard is the last place anybody will look for him, so he parks himself in the shade of a nice big tree and gets less uncomfortable. Actual comfort is not really an option.

Comments

[tofightinjustice]

The leaves rustle in the breeze.

(Dammit, she was just going to leave. Now what?)

[edgeofyourseat]

Laney doesn't see her, or at any rate he doesn't appear to. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the trunk and slumps exhaustedly, wincing and shifting a few inches to the left when relaxation leads to a rock getting a little too friendly with one of his many bruises.

[tofightinjustice]

She's laid out along one of the larger branches, very unobtrusive. He'd have to be looking hard to spot her.

Well, take this as an opportunity to observe, then. How badly is he beaten?

[edgeofyourseat]

Pretty fucking badly, although it's not immediately obvious.

When he keeps flinching, though, regularly... well, that implies certain things. Like that there is no such thing as a comfortable position, either because his overall pain level is too high or because there is no way he can sit that won't put unpleasant pressure on some kind of injury.

[tofightinjustice]

Not good. How often does this happen? Why hasn't anyone done anything about it?

She watches him for a few more minutes, then begins to ease her way onto another branch, on the other side of the tree.

[edgeofyourseat]

He looks up, squinting into the branches.

[tofightinjustice]

(She freezes.)

Leaves and shadows and the bright dazzle of sunlight through the branches.

[edgeofyourseat]

After a moment, he sighs and closes his eyes again. Whatever. He does not honestly care who is up that tree, if anyone; he is just going to sit here and bask in the sunlight and try to hurt as little as possible.

[tofightinjustice]

A lot of very careful maneuvering gets her around to the other side of the tree, out of his line of sight.

. . . But she's still stuck up here.

Dammit.

[edgeofyourseat]

Time passes.



Laney appears to fall asleep. It is not a particularly restful nap, but he is definitely making sounds consistent with not being awake anymore.

[tofightinjustice]

Once she's certain he's asleep, she starts to make her way down towards the ground -- very slow and very careful.

[edgeofyourseat]

Laney remains asleep!

But not too long after she reaches ground level, he rolls over onto that rock from earlier and wakes with a groan.

[tofightinjustice]

Bryce is leaning against the trunk of the tree.

"What happened to you?"

[edgeofyourseat]

He squints up at her.

"Mornin', sunshine," he mumbles, despite the fact that it is two in the afternoon. "What do you care?"

[tofightinjustice]

Suspicious: "Did you get shot again?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Nah, I got beat up." He smiles an unavoidably crooked smile. "For variety."

[tofightinjustice]

"You do that a lot."

[edgeofyourseat]

"It's fun."

He cocks his head.

"You still haven't told my why you care," he points out.

[tofightinjustice]

She shrugs, wrinkling her nose.

"I'm just curious, okay?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Okay," he says agreeably.

"Can you keep a secret?"

[tofightinjustice]

". . . Yeah."

[edgeofyourseat]

"I got arrested," he says casually, "and my dad beat me up for it."

Well, if she was curious!

[tofightinjustice]

"--Your dad beat you up?" she repeats, shocked.

[edgeofyourseat]

"Yep. Don't spread it around." He grins, wry, with a hard edge to it. "Pretty sure you can guess what happens if he finds out I've been telling tales."

[tofightinjustice]

"Oh my god," Bryce breathes. "Why haven't you told the police?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Why do you think telling the police would help? 'Cause trust me on this, I speak from painful experience, it won't."

[tofightinjustice]

"But they're supposed to help. They could, like, put you in protective custody or whatever."

[edgeofyourseat]

"Look, I tried," he says, flatly now. "I tried when I wasn't an eighteen-year-old with an arrest record."

[tofightinjustice]

"Well, can't you leave if you're eighteen?"

[edgeofyourseat]

"Oh, I'm going to," he says. "One'a these days."

[tofightinjustice]

She opens her mouth -- then shuts it and shakes her head.

"Okay."

[edgeofyourseat]

"...Anyway." He waves a hand. "Don't worry about little old me. I'll deal. I'm just cranky right now 'cause I feel like I got run over by a truck."

[tofightinjustice]

"You look like you did, too."

[edgeofyourseat]

"I'm not at my sexiest," he admits, with a grin that scrunches up the stitches beside his mouth.

[tofightinjustice]

Bryce rolls her eyes.

"Just so you know, there's a bunch of people at school who think you're dead, so you should, like, stop by."

[edgeofyourseat]

"I'm here, ain't I?"

[tofightinjustice]

"Yeah, you're out here."

[edgeofyourseat]

He tosses her a grin.

"Maybe I should go get in a fight. Then they'll really know I'm back."

[tofightinjustice]

Bryce huffs and rolls her eyes.

"Whatever," she says, turning to go. "Congratulations on not being dead."

[edgeofyourseat]

"Thanks," he calls after her, but he doesn't follow.