Fic - Slither (Prodigal Son)
Sep. 3rd, 2021 11:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessI forgot to mention yesterday other things that had gone sideways like 150$ raise in my loan repayments and oh the shitty knee brace (that you can buy for 120$on Amazon) was from an out of network company and they charged NINE HUNDRED dollars for it. I owe 400 of that. And I really feel like someone (even if it's the insurance company who's out 500$) should report that bullshit. I do plan to tell the doc. I mean if I had learned a company I was using was pulling that shit I'd change companies because I DID do that when I was still seeing patients.
Anyhow onto the story.
Title: Slither
author:cornerofmadness
Characters/Pairings: Jessica Whitly Gil Arroyo Malcolm and Ainsley
Disclaimer: Not mine, Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver owns it
Summary: Gil has to mediate a family fight but sometimes sitting back and letting them work it out is for the best. Besides he can see Jessica’s point about Malcolm’s choice in pets.
Rating: teen
Notes: Written for Spikesgirl58’s six word challenge for the words, slant, scene, dozen, onion, appointment and slump
Read it here or read it on AO3 here.
Gil parked his Le Mans in front of what he liked to call Milton Manor instead of the Whitly’s place because it was Jessica’s family manse after all. He’d picked up Malcolm from his therapy appointment and the thirteen year old looked shook, slumped in the bucket seat. For several minutes into the drive, Gil thought the boy had back slid into his selective mutism but it was more he didn’t want to go home and Gil refused to kidnap him and run off to wherever made sense to his pubescence addled mind.
Gil knew the upcoming battle. Jessica had apprised him of the details and asked for help. Jackie was supposed to come with him today but his girlfriend had to work tonight, picking up a shift at the hospital. Likely story. He’d considered doing the same because peacekeeping at the Whitlys was above and beyond normal duties. The stubborn fractious Whitlys could challenge a saint and now that Malcolm was entering puberty, it had only gotten worse. If he lit any more candles for the Whitlys, the cathedral would burn down.
He gave Malcolm’s shoulder a nudge. “Come on. Dinner’s waiting.”
Counting himself lucky his windshield didn’t melt from the heat of Malcolm’s glare, Gil chivvied the boy to the front door. He let himself in. Malcolm stomped his way to the dining room where Ainsley was already ensconced at the table and Jessica leaned against the side table with a cocktail watching the door.
He hoped to hell, she wasn’t drunk. He’d gently warned her about it. He didn’t know what CPS would do with a family like this. He’d met the flighty Birdie who’d be even worse of a parent than her sister and their grandmother blamed Malcolm for staining a family reputation that stretched back centuries. This is what you get for dating beneath you, Jessica. I did warn you. He remembered those words, felt their painful sting. How dare she say that of her own grandkids? Jessica had been right though. She and he were from two different noncompatible worlds but he missed what they had even if he was falling in love with Jackie.
Gil didn’t want to take Jessica’s kids away at any rate. She loved them deeply, gave everything she had to them, gave them the therapy they needed and almost everything they wanted. It was the ‘almost’ that was the problem at the moment. The other issue was that Jessica drank to cope and for Gil it was something he wanted to help her with if he could. He didn’t want her or the children damaged by that maladapted coping mechanism.
Malcolm silently tossed himself down at the table and slumped to nearly having his chin resting on the polished antique wood. He glared at everyone around him including poor Ainsley who apparently had sided her eight-year-old self with Mom.
“Malcolm Whitly, straighten up and don’t sit there pouting like I took away all your toys,” Jessica pushed off the side board and sat across from her son, next to Ainsley. Gil took up residence next to Malcolm wondering if he should have worn armor.
Malcolm sat up but rested back on a slant, a jaunty bit of defiance because his mother was fairly insistent on proper etiquette at the dinner table. The servants brought in the first course, setting it on the table and beating a hasty retreat. Gil wished he could have gone with them. He concentrated on the soup instead.
Malcolm played with his French onion soup, eating the cheese then swirling his spoon around the broth before slapping it into the bowl with a splash. Jessica shot him a look but held her tongue. “You’re so unfair!”
“I’m listening,” she replied. “Tell me how.”
“You won’t let me get a snake! It’s unfair, isn’t it, Gil?” His expression begged Gil to agree with him.
“A snake is no small thing, kid,” he replied as diplomatically as he could.
“I’ve done all my research!” Malcolm protested.
Gil didn’t doubt it. Malcolm was good at that. “You do know they eat mice, kid.”
Jessica held up a hand. “I do not want to talk about that at dinner. I can think of a dozen reasons to not have a snake in this house without even trying hard, Malcolm. It’s not an appropriate pet.”
His lips trembled. Malcolm was not used to hearing the word no. His mother usually buckled and gave him what he wanted, not just because of his father. Malcolm was spoiled as most rich kids were and since he was treated so abysmally at school she made up for it with both of her kids by buying them things. “But a ball python-”
“Gets over five feet long and are shy. They can bite. I’ve looked at your research and the answer is still no,” Jessica said.
Gil took stock of Malcolm’s expression and braced for the incoming spectacle. Every member of the Whitly family – Martin included – knew how to make a scene. Malcolm and Jessica excelled at it. He tried to head it off. “Is there another pet you might want? Cats are fun.”
“Preferrable to snakes,” Jessica muttered but Gil couldn’t see her allowing one of those either, not with all the antiques in this museum of a home.
“Snakes are fascinating. I want one! Rosy boas are nicer than balls and smaller,” Malcolm counter offered.
“They’re gross. No one wants snakes. You’re weird,” Ainsley pronounced with the gravitas only a child could bring.
Malcolm’s face reddened. “Am not!”
“Some people do like snakes,” Gil correctly her gently.
“He’s still weird.” Ainsley sniffed.
“Ainsley,” Jessica chided without any heat. “Malcolm, please, there has to be something else.”
“Dr. Le Deux said having a pet would help with my anxiety.”
Gil bit his bottom lip, trying not to smile. Malcolm had brought out the big guns. Jessica wouldn’t fight too hard if it would help his mental health.
“I’m pretty sure she meant something soft and fluffy,” Jessica said.
Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t want that. I want a snake. How about a corn snake? They’re pretty and small and they can eat pre-killed mice. You just have to thaw them out.”
“And now you want me to have frozen mice in my freezer.” Jessica arched her eyebrows.
“Better than live ones,” Gil said and earned himself some stink eye.
“I’ll take care of it. I know what bedding the terrarium needs and the temperature for the heating pad and I have a cool thing for the snake to hid in inside the terrarium. It’ll be in my room. You’ll never know it’s there, Mom!” Malcolm leaned on the table, excitement etched into his face.
“And when it gets loose because it will?”
“I’ll catch it!”
Jessica glanced over to Gil and caught him struggling not to grin at her dilemma. He knew he was in for it. He’d learned what that look meant. “And you’ll help him, Gil?”
“I’m really hoping I don’t have to.”
Jessica sighed, pushing her bowl away. Malcolm’s face lit up. He sensed his victory. “I am going to live to regret this.”
“Probably,” Gil said but figured it was drowned out by Malcolm’s whoop of joy. He absolutely wasn’t going to help Malcolm feed or care for the snake. He suspected that would last a month at best. Malcolm always had a way of getting what he wanted. Gil knew he Jessica and Jackie were putty in his hands but he wasn’t sure he’d want it any other way.
Anyhow onto the story.
Title: Slither
author:
cornerofmadnessCharacters/Pairings: Jessica Whitly Gil Arroyo Malcolm and Ainsley
Disclaimer: Not mine, Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver owns it
Summary: Gil has to mediate a family fight but sometimes sitting back and letting them work it out is for the best. Besides he can see Jessica’s point about Malcolm’s choice in pets.
Rating: teen
Notes: Written for Spikesgirl58’s six word challenge for the words, slant, scene, dozen, onion, appointment and slump
Read it here or read it on AO3 here.
Gil parked his Le Mans in front of what he liked to call Milton Manor instead of the Whitly’s place because it was Jessica’s family manse after all. He’d picked up Malcolm from his therapy appointment and the thirteen year old looked shook, slumped in the bucket seat. For several minutes into the drive, Gil thought the boy had back slid into his selective mutism but it was more he didn’t want to go home and Gil refused to kidnap him and run off to wherever made sense to his pubescence addled mind.
Gil knew the upcoming battle. Jessica had apprised him of the details and asked for help. Jackie was supposed to come with him today but his girlfriend had to work tonight, picking up a shift at the hospital. Likely story. He’d considered doing the same because peacekeeping at the Whitlys was above and beyond normal duties. The stubborn fractious Whitlys could challenge a saint and now that Malcolm was entering puberty, it had only gotten worse. If he lit any more candles for the Whitlys, the cathedral would burn down.
He gave Malcolm’s shoulder a nudge. “Come on. Dinner’s waiting.”
Counting himself lucky his windshield didn’t melt from the heat of Malcolm’s glare, Gil chivvied the boy to the front door. He let himself in. Malcolm stomped his way to the dining room where Ainsley was already ensconced at the table and Jessica leaned against the side table with a cocktail watching the door.
He hoped to hell, she wasn’t drunk. He’d gently warned her about it. He didn’t know what CPS would do with a family like this. He’d met the flighty Birdie who’d be even worse of a parent than her sister and their grandmother blamed Malcolm for staining a family reputation that stretched back centuries. This is what you get for dating beneath you, Jessica. I did warn you. He remembered those words, felt their painful sting. How dare she say that of her own grandkids? Jessica had been right though. She and he were from two different noncompatible worlds but he missed what they had even if he was falling in love with Jackie.
Gil didn’t want to take Jessica’s kids away at any rate. She loved them deeply, gave everything she had to them, gave them the therapy they needed and almost everything they wanted. It was the ‘almost’ that was the problem at the moment. The other issue was that Jessica drank to cope and for Gil it was something he wanted to help her with if he could. He didn’t want her or the children damaged by that maladapted coping mechanism.
Malcolm silently tossed himself down at the table and slumped to nearly having his chin resting on the polished antique wood. He glared at everyone around him including poor Ainsley who apparently had sided her eight-year-old self with Mom.
“Malcolm Whitly, straighten up and don’t sit there pouting like I took away all your toys,” Jessica pushed off the side board and sat across from her son, next to Ainsley. Gil took up residence next to Malcolm wondering if he should have worn armor.
Malcolm sat up but rested back on a slant, a jaunty bit of defiance because his mother was fairly insistent on proper etiquette at the dinner table. The servants brought in the first course, setting it on the table and beating a hasty retreat. Gil wished he could have gone with them. He concentrated on the soup instead.
Malcolm played with his French onion soup, eating the cheese then swirling his spoon around the broth before slapping it into the bowl with a splash. Jessica shot him a look but held her tongue. “You’re so unfair!”
“I’m listening,” she replied. “Tell me how.”
“You won’t let me get a snake! It’s unfair, isn’t it, Gil?” His expression begged Gil to agree with him.
“A snake is no small thing, kid,” he replied as diplomatically as he could.
“I’ve done all my research!” Malcolm protested.
Gil didn’t doubt it. Malcolm was good at that. “You do know they eat mice, kid.”
Jessica held up a hand. “I do not want to talk about that at dinner. I can think of a dozen reasons to not have a snake in this house without even trying hard, Malcolm. It’s not an appropriate pet.”
His lips trembled. Malcolm was not used to hearing the word no. His mother usually buckled and gave him what he wanted, not just because of his father. Malcolm was spoiled as most rich kids were and since he was treated so abysmally at school she made up for it with both of her kids by buying them things. “But a ball python-”
“Gets over five feet long and are shy. They can bite. I’ve looked at your research and the answer is still no,” Jessica said.
Gil took stock of Malcolm’s expression and braced for the incoming spectacle. Every member of the Whitly family – Martin included – knew how to make a scene. Malcolm and Jessica excelled at it. He tried to head it off. “Is there another pet you might want? Cats are fun.”
“Preferrable to snakes,” Jessica muttered but Gil couldn’t see her allowing one of those either, not with all the antiques in this museum of a home.
“Snakes are fascinating. I want one! Rosy boas are nicer than balls and smaller,” Malcolm counter offered.
“They’re gross. No one wants snakes. You’re weird,” Ainsley pronounced with the gravitas only a child could bring.
Malcolm’s face reddened. “Am not!”
“Some people do like snakes,” Gil correctly her gently.
“He’s still weird.” Ainsley sniffed.
“Ainsley,” Jessica chided without any heat. “Malcolm, please, there has to be something else.”
“Dr. Le Deux said having a pet would help with my anxiety.”
Gil bit his bottom lip, trying not to smile. Malcolm had brought out the big guns. Jessica wouldn’t fight too hard if it would help his mental health.
“I’m pretty sure she meant something soft and fluffy,” Jessica said.
Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t want that. I want a snake. How about a corn snake? They’re pretty and small and they can eat pre-killed mice. You just have to thaw them out.”
“And now you want me to have frozen mice in my freezer.” Jessica arched her eyebrows.
“Better than live ones,” Gil said and earned himself some stink eye.
“I’ll take care of it. I know what bedding the terrarium needs and the temperature for the heating pad and I have a cool thing for the snake to hid in inside the terrarium. It’ll be in my room. You’ll never know it’s there, Mom!” Malcolm leaned on the table, excitement etched into his face.
“And when it gets loose because it will?”
“I’ll catch it!”
Jessica glanced over to Gil and caught him struggling not to grin at her dilemma. He knew he was in for it. He’d learned what that look meant. “And you’ll help him, Gil?”
“I’m really hoping I don’t have to.”
Jessica sighed, pushing her bowl away. Malcolm’s face lit up. He sensed his victory. “I am going to live to regret this.”
“Probably,” Gil said but figured it was drowned out by Malcolm’s whoop of joy. He absolutely wasn’t going to help Malcolm feed or care for the snake. He suspected that would last a month at best. Malcolm always had a way of getting what he wanted. Gil knew he Jessica and Jackie were putty in his hands but he wasn’t sure he’d want it any other way.
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