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nostalgicatseaTitle: Unraveled
Universe: Warrior
Pairing: Gen
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,104
Summary: It hurts to see Tommy be open like this when Brendan doesn't know how long it'll take for him to get his brother back.
On AO3
Notes: Inspired by the bottom photo in this post. For luxover, the only person I know who understands the depth of my feelings for this film.
Brendan’s known since the tournament ended that it’d take a long time for Tommy and him to get better. He’s done wrong by him and he knows that, has known it deep in his bones since he was sixteen and he came home to an empty house, the lights out and Pop at the bar a few streets down like he’d always been back then. Nothing had seemed out of place when he walked in; everything looked the way it did when he and Tommy had left that morning, down to the umbrella stand that he’d knocked over on his way out the door in his rush to get to school on time. For a second, he’d let himself believe that they were still there, that Mom was asleep in her and Pop’s bedroom and Tommy was upstairs in theirs waiting for Brendan to slip in, wide awake because he’d stayed up to tell him what happened, to tell him that they’d changed their minds in the end, that it wasn’t a big deal that Brendan had gone to Tess’s after school and stayed there for hours instead of going straight home like they’d planned because Brendan must’ve known deep down that they wouldn’t do it.
But Mom wasn’t in her bedroom and her clothes were gone, and Brendan had known without a doubt that Tommy was gone too without having to go upstairs and check. Tommy might’ve been Pop’s favorite, but he was a mama’s boy at heart even before Pop started fucking everything up, and he knew that wherever their mom went, Tommy went too. They’d left without him and even though he told himself that it’d been right to stay, that he had to stay because Tess was everything and he could never leave her, he’d also known that he’d made one of the worst mistakes of his life.
He hurt Tommy just as much as Pop did, maybe even more in some ways. He sees that every time he looks at Tommy, in the way that Tommy shuts himself off from the world, the way that Tommy still looks at him like he doesn’t want to, or maybe can’t, let his guard down around him even though things are better now, like Brendan’s going to do the same thing to him again and he’s just waiting for it to happen.
He sees that whenever Tommy looks at him like he doesn’t know him, and sometimes that’s just as bad as seeing how much he’s hurt him. They’re brothers, they should know each other better than anyone, but they’re little more than strangers now. Even Pop knows more about Tommy than he does, and he’s not sure how to feel about that when he and Tommy had been so close growing up and Tommy had hated Pop more than anything else in the world the last few years he lived at home.
It just goes to show how much he’s screwed up that Tommy’s let Pop in before him, shows how much he has to make up for and how little he knows Tommy now. Tommy’s not the brother he used to know, not anymore, and probably hasn’t been for a long time, not since their mother died or maybe long before then.
Brendan's long since come to terms with it, is okay with it just as long as he gets to rebuild their relationship one step at a time, as painful and slow as that process may be, which is why he’s not prepared to see Tommy smiling when he walks into the gym one Tuesday afternoon to pick him up after his session with Frank is over. It’s a small smile, more of a smirk than anything, but Tommy’s ducking his head, trying to hide it from Frank, and Brendan stops in his tracks, unable to do anything but stare. Tommy’s standing against the wall, slouching forward with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his shoulders hunched so he’s almost folding in on himself, but he’s more open than Brendan’s ever seen him be in the past three months since he’s come home.
His smile reminds Brendan of an old picture someone took of Tommy at the gym they sometimes went to in high school, sitting back against the ropes in the boxing ring, his smile almost, but not completely, hidden by the glove he was biting on as he listened to someone off-camera. There was something soft about him in that picture, Brendan remembers, something shy but happy, and he used to carry it around with him all the time and look at it, wanting to remember Tommy like that and hoping that wherever he was, that that’s how he’d stay, before the picture started getting too worn around the edges to do so and it became more painful than comforting to look at it.
He wonders which photo album it’s in at the house as he watches Frank say something to Tommy, his voice too low for him to catch the words from where he’s standing by the door of the locker room. Tommy laughs in response, quiet but unrestrainedly happy in a way he so rarely is around him, Pop, and Tess, and something painful knots inside of him because this is something between Tommy and Frank, something private that he isn’t meant to see, something he doesn’t have the privilege of seeing himself yet or anytime soon.
He briefly considers walking away and coming back later, absurdly dreading interrupting them when nothing’s actually happening, but Tommy looks up and their eyes meet before he can figure out what to do. He awkwardly lifts a hand in greeting, feeling like he was caught peeking as he does so.
“You ready to go?” he asks.
Tommy just nods in reply, withdrawing into himself again, grabbing his bag before saying bye to Frank who claps his shoulder and tells both him and Brendan to take care. It should be nothing, seeing him like this, should be something he’s used to, but Brendan’s glimpsed that softness still in Tommy and something falls apart quietly in him, just for that moment, now that it’s all gone and everything about Tommy is closed off and carefully guarded again, locked tightly away and out of Brendan’s reach.
“C’mon,” he says, squeezing Tommy’s shoulder, and he holds Tommy to him as much as he uses Tommy to hold himself together just for that one second Tommy will let him before he drops his arm and they walk out of the gym towards the car together, without speaking and without touching.
Universe: Warrior
Pairing: Gen
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1,104
Summary: It hurts to see Tommy be open like this when Brendan doesn't know how long it'll take for him to get his brother back.
On AO3
Notes: Inspired by the bottom photo in this post. For luxover, the only person I know who understands the depth of my feelings for this film.
Brendan’s known since the tournament ended that it’d take a long time for Tommy and him to get better. He’s done wrong by him and he knows that, has known it deep in his bones since he was sixteen and he came home to an empty house, the lights out and Pop at the bar a few streets down like he’d always been back then. Nothing had seemed out of place when he walked in; everything looked the way it did when he and Tommy had left that morning, down to the umbrella stand that he’d knocked over on his way out the door in his rush to get to school on time. For a second, he’d let himself believe that they were still there, that Mom was asleep in her and Pop’s bedroom and Tommy was upstairs in theirs waiting for Brendan to slip in, wide awake because he’d stayed up to tell him what happened, to tell him that they’d changed their minds in the end, that it wasn’t a big deal that Brendan had gone to Tess’s after school and stayed there for hours instead of going straight home like they’d planned because Brendan must’ve known deep down that they wouldn’t do it.
But Mom wasn’t in her bedroom and her clothes were gone, and Brendan had known without a doubt that Tommy was gone too without having to go upstairs and check. Tommy might’ve been Pop’s favorite, but he was a mama’s boy at heart even before Pop started fucking everything up, and he knew that wherever their mom went, Tommy went too. They’d left without him and even though he told himself that it’d been right to stay, that he had to stay because Tess was everything and he could never leave her, he’d also known that he’d made one of the worst mistakes of his life.
He hurt Tommy just as much as Pop did, maybe even more in some ways. He sees that every time he looks at Tommy, in the way that Tommy shuts himself off from the world, the way that Tommy still looks at him like he doesn’t want to, or maybe can’t, let his guard down around him even though things are better now, like Brendan’s going to do the same thing to him again and he’s just waiting for it to happen.
He sees that whenever Tommy looks at him like he doesn’t know him, and sometimes that’s just as bad as seeing how much he’s hurt him. They’re brothers, they should know each other better than anyone, but they’re little more than strangers now. Even Pop knows more about Tommy than he does, and he’s not sure how to feel about that when he and Tommy had been so close growing up and Tommy had hated Pop more than anything else in the world the last few years he lived at home.
It just goes to show how much he’s screwed up that Tommy’s let Pop in before him, shows how much he has to make up for and how little he knows Tommy now. Tommy’s not the brother he used to know, not anymore, and probably hasn’t been for a long time, not since their mother died or maybe long before then.
Brendan's long since come to terms with it, is okay with it just as long as he gets to rebuild their relationship one step at a time, as painful and slow as that process may be, which is why he’s not prepared to see Tommy smiling when he walks into the gym one Tuesday afternoon to pick him up after his session with Frank is over. It’s a small smile, more of a smirk than anything, but Tommy’s ducking his head, trying to hide it from Frank, and Brendan stops in his tracks, unable to do anything but stare. Tommy’s standing against the wall, slouching forward with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his shoulders hunched so he’s almost folding in on himself, but he’s more open than Brendan’s ever seen him be in the past three months since he’s come home.
His smile reminds Brendan of an old picture someone took of Tommy at the gym they sometimes went to in high school, sitting back against the ropes in the boxing ring, his smile almost, but not completely, hidden by the glove he was biting on as he listened to someone off-camera. There was something soft about him in that picture, Brendan remembers, something shy but happy, and he used to carry it around with him all the time and look at it, wanting to remember Tommy like that and hoping that wherever he was, that that’s how he’d stay, before the picture started getting too worn around the edges to do so and it became more painful than comforting to look at it.
He wonders which photo album it’s in at the house as he watches Frank say something to Tommy, his voice too low for him to catch the words from where he’s standing by the door of the locker room. Tommy laughs in response, quiet but unrestrainedly happy in a way he so rarely is around him, Pop, and Tess, and something painful knots inside of him because this is something between Tommy and Frank, something private that he isn’t meant to see, something he doesn’t have the privilege of seeing himself yet or anytime soon.
He briefly considers walking away and coming back later, absurdly dreading interrupting them when nothing’s actually happening, but Tommy looks up and their eyes meet before he can figure out what to do. He awkwardly lifts a hand in greeting, feeling like he was caught peeking as he does so.
“You ready to go?” he asks.
Tommy just nods in reply, withdrawing into himself again, grabbing his bag before saying bye to Frank who claps his shoulder and tells both him and Brendan to take care. It should be nothing, seeing him like this, should be something he’s used to, but Brendan’s glimpsed that softness still in Tommy and something falls apart quietly in him, just for that moment, now that it’s all gone and everything about Tommy is closed off and carefully guarded again, locked tightly away and out of Brendan’s reach.
“C’mon,” he says, squeezing Tommy’s shoulder, and he holds Tommy to him as much as he uses Tommy to hold himself together just for that one second Tommy will let him before he drops his arm and they walk out of the gym towards the car together, without speaking and without touching.