|
|
|
It was never a problem to Phillipa and James. They loved their Uncle Arthur and Uncle Eames, and they'd never seen a relationship stronger than the one they had.
They were happy with their family: their father, Cobb, their uncles, Arthur and Eames, happily together. Life was great.
Well, until James' little league baseball team made it to the "play-offs".
James was eight, a third grader, and Phillipa was ten, a fifth grader.
- - - -
"Dammit, I knew was forgetting something," Arthur muttered, shaking the rain out of his non-gelled hair. There was something about waking up in Eames' arms every morning that made Arthur loosen up a little, and today he'd loosened up so much he'd forgotten to check the weather.
Thankfully, he wasn't wearing a three-piece suit. When it came to seeing the kids, Arthur was feeling more and more comfortable in a t-shirt and jeans.
Eames smiled and unzipped the hoodie he was wearing, pulling his left arm out of it and slinging half of it around Arthur, pulling him closer. Arthur smiled under Eames' body heat and kissed him lightly on the lips. A few of the mothers in the bleachers gave the two dirty looks, but Arthur and Eames simply smiled and went back to cheering on James.
They'd arrived at the game a little late, so while they were in the back of the bleachers, Cobb and Phillipa were in the front. Arthur looked down at the two, spotting Phillipa climbing onto Cobb's lap to hide from the rain under his jacket.
- - - -
The game was nearly over, which Arthur was thankful for. The poor kids had been playing relentlessly in the rain for hours, and it was down to the last inning. James was up at bat, he hadn't struck out once throughout the game, and all he needed to do was hit the ball far enough to get the last two runners home, and they'd win. "C'mon, duck! Knock it out of the park!" Eames shouted to James, smiling at him widely, no shame at all. James smiled back at him and waved, turning his attention back to the pitcher.
James was a natural baseball player. All his teammates were certain he'd lead them to victory.
But, unfortunately, everyone has their bad days.
Somehow, James struck out, leading to the other team's win.
Eames, of course, went into an unjustified rage, ready to shout profanities at the umpire and accuse the pitcher of cheating, but Arthur quickly tugged him down and held him in place, wrapping an arm tightly around his waist. "It's alright, Russ. It's just a game."
Eames sighed, calming down. "I know, love. Thanks for holding me back," he said, smiling down at Arthur.
"I know you too well."
Standing up and moving carefully so they could still share the hoodie, Arthur and Eames joined up with Cobb and Phillipa. "Looks like the coach is gonna be talking to the team for a while. Would you two mind bringing James home? I've gotta bring Phillipa home so she can get ready for her friend's party," Cobb said, holding Phillipa, who was no longer hiding in his coat. God, she was just like Mal. She even loved the rain as much as Mal did. She didn't care that she was getting soaked, and she didn't care that she had to go to a party very soon. The rain was beautiful.
"Yeah Cobb, we'll take care of it," Arthur responded, watching the two walk away. He and Eames headed over to the dug out, where the coach was trying to cheer them up, saying things like "there's always next year," and "you all did great, even with the rain, I'm so proud of you," but the way the kids were looking at James pissed Eames off. Arthur, again, held him back.
While the kids were gathering their things, the coach had already left. The kids quickly turned to James, glaring him down and started yelling at him and bullying him.
Unfortunately, Arthur had pulled Eames to the side where they couldn't see the dugout to keep him from exploding. They were leaning against Arthur's car, kissing each other lightly and holding each other and smiling and laughing, ignoring anyone who decided to give them dirty looks. Arthur had some how commandeered Eames' hoodie and was burying himself into the warmth of it, feeling a little bad that Eames was getting rained on because of him. But of course the forger didn't mind.
The kids were shouting at James, cornering him in the dugout and calling him names that were a little too harsh for third graders. James knew not to let it get to him, until one of the kids said something about Arthur and Eames. "What?" James asked, staring down the kid who'd said.
"I said, your uncles are faggots!" The kid probably didn't even really know what the word meant, probably heard it from his parents. The moms at the games were always so critical of Arthur and Eames, but James had never really heard any of it personally.
And that's when James started to cry, because he began thinking that the perfect relationship he thought his uncles had was actually a bad thing that kids would make fun of him for. "Shut up," he said, barely audible over the rain and quiet sobs.
Then things got even worse.
The kids, getting way out of hand for something they knew nothing about, shoved James into the dirt that was quickly becoming mud from the rain and continued shouting at him, kicking him and hitting him for a few minutes before leaving him to sob on the ground so they could go home without their mothers getting suspicious.
Seeing that all the kids were coming out, Arthur and Eames stopped what they were doing and headed to the dugout to see if James needed help with anything, and found him on the ground, still crying. "Oh my god, James!" Arthur shouted, ribbing the sweatshirt off and wrapping it carefully around James before picking him up. The point man looked him over worriedly, spotting the black eye that was already forming and the large cut on his lip, along with a few smaller ones on his chin.
"Oh, duck, what's happened?" Eames asked, full of worry as he used the calloused fingers to wipe some mud away from James' face. The boy had stopped crying, but refused to look at the two, and instead buried himself deeper into the hoodie, hiding.
When they got back to Cobb's house, Arthur brought James upstairs to set up a bath for him while Eames tried to explain what happened. "Those bloody brats must've kicked him into the mud, if only Arthur hadn't stopped me," Eames muttered through clenched teeth.
Cobb sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. "I can't believe this happened. For ******** sake, they're all, what, eight? How the hell could they do this?" He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to keep himself from blowing up. "Well, thanks for taking him home, Eames. I'm gonna go help Arthur out."
Eames nodded, watching the man walk up the stairs as Arthur came back down. "So? Did he tell you what happened?"
"No. He wouldn't even look at me. I'm so worried about him, Russ. He seems really shaken up about this. I mean, Cobb told me he's been getting bullied about Mal and stuff, but he's been pretty good at handling him. I didn't think a bunch of third graders could go this far," Arthur said, letting Eames pull the slim point man into his larger arms as they leaned against a nearby wall.
Eames brushed his hands through Arthur's soft, damp hair, with his lips pressed to the point man's forehead. "He'll be alright, love. He's a tough kid, he'll get through it."
"He tells us everything though, you know him. Even things he's not comfortable telling Cobb," Arthur pointed out, burying his face into the crook of Eames' neck.
James always confided in his uncles when he was worried about what his father would think. He'd tell Arthur his biggest, deepest secrets and problems, because, well, Arthur always had the answers. On the other hand, he always told Eames his wildest dreams and fantasies because the forger always believed he could achieve them no matter how crazy they seemed.
Eames lightly kissed the side of Arthur's head and pushed him away lightly so the point man was looking at him. "I swear, Arthur, he's gonna be okay."
Cobb finally came down the stairs about ten minutes later. "He won't tell me anything. Doesn't he usually pour his heart out to you two?"
Arthur and Eames nodded before looking down at their shoes. "Wouldn't tell us either, though," Arthur said after a second. "He wouldn't even look at us. How's he doing?"
"He'll be fine, I think. He's got a black eye and couple cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. At least he'll have the weekend to rest before he has to go back to school."
- - - -
James got over it, of course, being the resilient boy he was, but he never told anyone what the boys said about his uncles, and he was a little more hesitant about telling his uncles the things he used to tell them.
- - - -
When it happened to James and Phillipa on the same day, however, it all came crashing out of control.
It was Phillipa's eleventh birthday, and they were having the party at the Cobbs' house.
Phillipa, her friends, James, and a few of his friends as well were running around the backyard, while the adults and parents sat on the patio, talking about random things and drinking beer and keeping an eye on the kids.
Arthur and Eames were sitting under a tree on the right side of the lawn, leaning on each other lightly and simply watching the kids. They didn't need to talk when they were around each other, it was enough that they were together. Sometimes they lightly kissed each other on the side of the head or the neck or behind the ear or the lips, and every time there was always at least one person who shot them a dirty look. "Do people really still care about sexuality these days? Of all the things wrong in this world, why are they still so worried about whether or not everyone's straight?" Arthur asked, glaring right back at the last woman to judge them.
"Some people just don't understand, pet," Eames responded, pulling Arthur a little closer, protectively. "Who cares what they think anyhow."
"I've probably saved their asses on more than one occasion-"
"And how are they supposed to know that? Face it Arthur, the only people who thank us for the job we do are the people who pay us to do it. If we happen to save someone on the side as a result, well, they'll never know."
Arthur sighed and turned his attention to Phillipa and James before Eames suddenly turned the point man around and kissed him again on the lips. "It's not important, darling. They'll come around eventually," Eames said, smiling oh so sweetly in that way of his that was reserved for Arthur and Arthur only, and made the point man's chest swell and his heart melt with such happiness and love, sometimes he felt like he was gonna stop breathing.
As Arthur buried his head into Eames' neck and hugged him tightly, one of the women talking to Cobb noticed them. "Uhm, Dom," oh how Cobb hated that name. It was the name only Mal could call him, just like only Arthur could call Eames "Russ". It stung to hear it coming from the mouth of another person. Not even Arthur, his best friend, called him Dom anymore. And that was the way Cobb wanted it. "Who are those two men back there?"
Cobb looked over to the couple she was talking about and couldn't help but smile a little; he had to admit that he was a little jealous of the two at first, being able to hold each other and love each other, when the only woman Cobb would ever love was ripped out of his life all because of some stupid ******** idea. "That's Arthur and Eames, the kids' 'uncles'," he said, then shot a look back over to the woman that probably made her blood run cold. "Why?"
"Well, I mean, don't you see what they're doing? Is it really a good idea for the kids to be seeing that?"
Cobb didn't see the issue, didn't understand that the woman was a god-fearing homophobic, and thought maybe she just didn't want them getting too close with so many young kids around. But, they were just kissing, it wasn't something the kids - or, at least not James and Phillipa - weren't used to. Didn't this woman kiss her husband at home? "Oh, don't worry about them, the most they'll do is kiss. I mean, I could break them up if you really don't feel comfortable with your kids seeing two people in love. James and Phillipa love them though, they're great with kids."
The woman scoffed. "They can't be in love."
Cobb took a look at Arthur and Eames - two men who were so clearly madly in love with each other, what with the way they looked at each other and the way they smiled to each other and the way they held each other - before glaring back to the woman. "And why the hell not?"
"Well, they're men. It's just not right," the woman said, glancing at the two quickly before looking back at Cobb.
Cobb shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. He gave a short, sarcastic laugh. "What, you're kidding, right?"
"No, Dom, I am not kidding. And I really don't feel comfortable having my kids around to see this."
Cobb really couldn't believe what she was saying. "Well, those two happen to be my best friends, and my children's uncles, so if you've really got a problem with that then you can get the hell out. I don't see why you'd want to ruin Phillipa's birthday just because they're together, but if you're going to stand here and judge them then you can just go," he said, and turned his back on her, heading over to Arthur and Eames.
The woman quickly talked to the other parents, all of whom were mostly on her side, and convinced them to take their children home. The kids didn't see the problem - they were all used to Arthur and Eames by now, some of them loved the two almost as much as Phillipa and James - but the parents dragged them home anyway, even Phillipa's best friend.
Cobb was pissed, couldn't believe what they were doing, and Arthur and Eames were confused. He explained it to them, and it pissed them off as well, especially Eames, who looked like he was ready to shoot someone.
Phillipa quickly ran to her father's arms, crying and asking why daddy, why do they have to go, why does everyone always have to leave her, and it broke Cobb's heart. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Some people just don't understand."
"Understand what?"
"They don't understand that your uncles-"
Phillipa pulled away from Cobb and glared over at Arthur and Eames. "This is your fault?" She asked, crying more and more and getting angrier and angrier.
"No, no, dear, it's complicated," Eames tried to explain, but how do you explain something like homophobia to an eleven year old girl who always envied their relationship?
"Shut up!" Phillipa snapped, turning and running to the house. "I hate you guys! You ruined my birthday!" James quickly ran inside with her, this not being the first time he was hurt by his uncles' relationship.
Cobb, Arthur, and Eames remained outside, standing in silence for a few minutes before Arthur spoke up. "I'm sorry Cobb," he said, staring down at his feet and taking a sip of his beer.
Cobb shook his head. "No, Arthur, this isn't your fault. You guys shouldn't be ashamed of what you have just because some crazy b***h has this ******** up idea in her head that it's not right." Glancing over his shoulder at the house, Cobb sighed. "I should go talk to her. It'll be alright. I'll see you guys later, okay?"
Eames and Arthur nodded, watching Cobb go back in the house. Eames quickly lit a cigarette, something he normally wouldn't do with the kids around, but he was pretty pissed and other than Arthur, cigarettes were the only things that calmed him down. Arthur rubbed Eames' back gently. "It's gonna be alright, Russ. They'll get over it, just like James did."
Eames nodded, sighing, and taking a drag of his cigarette. "Yeah, but she looks up to us, y'know? I'm beginning to understand why you were upset earlier."
Arthur took the cigarette out of Eames' hand and took a drag of it himself before handing it back to the forger and kissing the side of his head. "Don't dwell on it. C'mon, let's clean up and head home." Eames nodded and put the cigarette out, helping Arthur clean the backyard.
- - - -
When they got home, they collapsed on their bed, exhausted and angry and even a little sad, knowing their relationship with James and Phillipa may never be the same.
Arthur curled in to Eames' chest as the forger rubbed his back, his chin resting softly on the point man's head. The simply lied there, listening to each other's breathing, for at least an hour when Arthur's cell phone rang. He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled it out, lying it in the small space between him and Eames and putting it on speaker phone. "How are they doing, Cobb?"
"They won't listen to me," Cobb said. "James is comforting Phillipa, but they're both pretty upset still. How'd you get James over it?"
Arthur shrugged, even though Cobb wasn't there to see it. "We just gave it time, didn't we? And we helped him with the cuts and bruises, but this is Phillipa's birthday and because of us all her friends had to leave. It's going to be a long damn time before she forgives us."
 an odd superhero · Thu Sep 30, 2010 @ 05:11am · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
