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The One Where Elliott Meets Joan
Author: yoursweater Pairing: Brian/Justin Rating: G Timeline: Future Spoilers: No Universe: Elliott Summary: When Elliott meets Joan Kinney, it’s an accident. Written for on_impulse challenge number four. Author's Note: Another one set in the Elliott universe for on__impulse. This has a second part to it, which I'll post tomorrow. When Elliott meets Joan Kinney, it’s an accident. Brian folded on Elliott’s second birthday, when he wanted an ice cream cake. And that time Justin got called into the studio on short notice and Brian was stuck doing the grocery shopping and ended up with his kid in tow, wanting anything within reach that contained any trace of sugar. He hadn’t complained that much when he ended up coming home with three different types of cookies, and really the only time Brian’s answer was no to anything concerning his son, was the night he and Justin discussed Brian’s (technical) family. And so the rule was that Elliott would never be introduced to Aunt Claire, and lucky that Jack was dead because Elliott would never know that grandfather either. But above all else, he would not under any circumstances, ever have to meet Joan Kinney. Which is why it had been such a surprise when Justin ended up running into the woman in the middle of aisle four at Liberty Grocery. In fact, at first he hadn’t even been sure it was her. Because honestly, Joan Kinney in any building that had ‘liberty’ attached to it was like Jesus traveling in a Ford Explorer. It just didn’t happen. When he had recognized the haggard gray hair and tight lips, the same uncomfortable feeling had settled into his stomach, just like the first and only other time he’d met her – not counting the numerous amount of awkward times where he’d pick up the phone and she’d be on the other end. Justin would have to make excuses as to where Brian was, when Justin knew full well that the man was down at Babylon, personally approving each dancer’s wardrobe. And in the grocery store, Justin had a moment where he thought he could just walk away and not have to say a word, but then their eyes met and he found himself freezing up on the spot. And in that one second, he got a plain glimpse into the rest of Brian’s life. “Uh, hi.” He’d managed to say, offering a lame hand for her to shake. Immediately she’d declined, and Justin had found his arm dropping back down to his side as his mind raced through his Country Club introductions, trying to find one suitable for someone who thought he would end up in something lower than hell. He had only been one breath away from talking about the weather and folding under Joan’s sharp stare when he’d heard the clatter of objects coming from behind him, and then a soft ‘oops’. “Aw, Elliott. For fucks sake.” Justin had been so busy picking up soup cans from the floor and restocking the otherwise model shelf of them, that he hadn’t even registered the utterly shocked expression on Joan’s usually tight face. And whether it was from the fact that there was a kid in the literal picture or that Justin had swore (in public, none the less) is still up for debate. “Uh, Joan…” He’d said finally, and he could already hear Brian yelling, but his plan to never have Elliott meet his mother had worked a ton easier when Justin wasn’t cornered by the woman in a canned goods aisle. And when Justin had finally managed to look up at Joan, he discovered that they both knew she had already realized exactly who the short terror belonged to. “This is Elliott.” When Elliott offered a short and half distracted “Hi!”, Justin had watched the evolution take place on Joan’s face. The surprise turned into sourness, the sourness into anger and the anger into her favorite thing. Denial. “Your brother?” She’d asked, her voice all prim and fucking pristine. Justin scratched behind his ear and looked down at the kid who really was just a smaller version of Rage himself. “Uh… No.” Justin had finally managed, glancing over at Joan. “He’s my son.” And that was where Brian started yelling when Justin recounted the story later that night, trying to rush though some parts as he poured boiling water out of the pot he was cooking a half assed dinner in. Brian ranted, throwing his hands up in the air and widening his eyes with every point he made. “Why didn’t you just tell her that he was your fucking… I don’t know, but you didn’t have to introduce them!” Brian had shouted, pointing an angry finger at Justin from where he was standing by the oven. “Look, I agree with you. I didn’t want them to meet either. But, fuck.” Justin said, sending a bordering desperate look towards Brian to attempt getting his point across. “She knew who he was Brian, as soon as she saw him.” Brian fell asleep on the couch that night with Elliott sprawled out on top of him, and the end of an old black and white movie was playing out on the TV screen when Justin discovered the two. The next morning the three of them turned up at the diner for breakfast, and Brian stood outside chain smoking for fifteen minutes before he bothered to come in. “What the fuck’s his problem?” Debbie had asked, glancing out the front window where Brian’s silhouette was framed by rainbow streamers and other daily Liberty Diner decorations. Justin shrugged and Debbie dropped the topic in favor of turning her attention to her favorite Kinney. “What do you want for breakfast, baby?” Elliott had babbled off an elaborate order, and eventually settled for pancakes. By the time Brian drug himself out of the cold November air, Elliott had whipped cream on every available surface, and Emmett had made an appearance in their booth. “Heard about yesterday.” He’d said, all immediate sympathy as Brian sat down beside his kid and took a minute to bat Emmett’s consoling hand away. “It really is terrible.” Brian snorted and shrugged and pulled out all the other coping mechanisms he hadn’t used in years as Justin watched him from the other side of the table with a frown on his face, finally realizing what the consequence of the freak meeting had been. Elliott hadn’t been successfully scarred for life, and Justin hadn’t ended up getting into a conversation any more awkward then he’d anticipated. The fact was that Brian still just couldn’t handle his mother, or the feelings that had come attached to her. Emmett left after five minutes with a, “See you baby!” and a wave over his narrow shoulder, and Brian didn’t say much for the rest of the day. “I’m sorry.” Justin had said the next morning, pulling out the tactic he barely ever used while Brian swore and cringed with a burnt mouth and coffee that was apparently too hot. “What?” Had been the eloquent reply, as Brian looked up from the counter he had been bent over while he tried to fill a glass with water. Justin opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of water, then handed it over. “I said, I’m sorry.” Brian had frowned and twisted the cap from his bottle, leaving the room with a mumbled, “Me too.” over his shoulder. That afternoon Justin ended up taking Elliott to the Munchers’ house, and was merely three feet into the front hallway when Lindsay had asked him what was wrong. Justin’s quick reply had been, “I ended up in an aisle at the grocery store with Joan Kinney.” As was the anticipated response, Lindsay’s eyes had widened, pale and thin hands covering her pink mouth as she’d whispered, “Oh shit.” ‘Oh shit’ was just about the only term that could even begin to sum up the previous week, Justin had decided, while he set Elliott down on the floor to play with Gus’ freakishly sluggish dog. The half and half breed had been dubbed Calculator three years previous - nobody understood the reasoning behind the name then, and months ago they’d all given up trying to figure it out. “So was he…” Lindsay had trailed off, motioning one hand towards Elliott, and Justin had just given her a simple nod. “Oh. Shit.” Justin climbed into the passenger seat of Brian’s car that night, after repeatedly phoning Kinnetik and using his something-to-the-boss card to connect to Brian’s direct line enough times to irritate him into picking Justin up from The Munchers’ house. “What, were you there all fucking day or something?” Brian had asked, putting his turn signal on as he glanced at Elliott in the rear view mirror. He was half asleep and leaning against the side of his car seat. “I just went over to get the roll of film from Ted’s birthday party last week and th-“ Brian snorted, “So did you get a cookie recipe too, and a cup of flour?” “No, I already have those.” Justin had smirked, never missing a beat in the conversation as Brian changed lanes. “But I did end up staying later, Gus wanted you to come see him anyways.” A simple nod from Brian sufficed, and then five minutes of absolute silence passed. The only sound in the car was the slightly allergy-muffled snores coming from the backseat, and other cars passing them by. “My mother left me seven different messages this morning.” Brian said finally, carefully, and Justin almost got whiplash from turning his head so fast. “What? What’d she say?” And for one minute Justin had this little flash of something. Maybe Joan finally had some big kind of- “The first one Cynthia gave me, she was pissed off she didn’t know I had another son, and she volunteered herself to make arrangements to get him baptized.” Brian had said carefully, squinting his eyes for little to no reason. “And by the last one she was pissed off that I hadn’t returned any of her calls, and she said we should put him up for adoption. To save his soul.” Justin didn’t breathe properly for a week after that. |