Work Text:
Looking in the mirror made Riley sick. Seeing all of his curves, the skirt that looked so wrong, the long, wavy hair that goes down to his shoulders. All things that his mom adored about him.
How was he supposed to tell him mom that her only daughter was actually her only son? That her little girl hated all of the pretty pink dresses and the meticulously styled hair that his mom worked so hard on? It would break her heart.
But christ, it was driving Riley mad pretending to be a girl. Logically he knew his mom probably wouldn’t care, but his logical side hadn’t had a grasp in years. After all, he was the son of Penelope Garcia, emotions ruled all within them. Anxiety was just one of the emotions that had decided to be stronger than most.
He sighed, looking away from the mirror solely so he didn’t have to see the bra adorning his chest anymore. The t-shirt he’d just taken off had “Queen” printed across the front in glitter, specially made his mom. Amazingly crafted and made with so much love and it made him sick.
Riley tossed it in his laundry basket, tried to avoid looking in the mirror as he dug through his dresser for his favorite sweatshirt. It was bright blue, his favorite color, and baggy enough to hide his curves from the outside world. He was about to slide it on when his gaze landed on the scissors on his desk. And when people asked him what happened later, all he could say was that he… snapped.
He had at least half an hour before his mom would get home, more than enough time to cut and style his hair like he wanted. Not that he’d ever cut hair before, but that didn’t really occur to him at the time. Jogging into the bathroom, he gazed at himself one last time before slowly lifting the scissors to his hair.
Snip.
A blonde curl fell into the sink. A ragged gasp escaped his lips. And then he was cutting and cutting and hair was filling the sink and it looked like a mess but he couldn’t force himself to care because finally, finally it was gone.
“Rachel, what are you doing ?”
He flinched at the sound of his birth name rather than the sound of his mother’s voice. He turned just to see his mom in the doorway, clothes as bright as ever, her lips parted in shock as she flapped her hands anxiously. “Where- why- it’s all gone!”
“Um… yeah,” he replied eloquently, scissors still poised to cut another piece of hair. He set it in the sink quickly, cheeks flushing.
She raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to tell me why?”
Honestly, Riley should have known this was coming, but somehow it didn’t occur to him that hey! There was a possibility that his mom might actually see his newly cut hair! “I- I just wanted it short?”
She stared at him a moment longer, eyes narrowed before finally walking towards him and picking up the scissors. “Alrighty then. I’ll schedule an appointment later so you can get it styled how you want it and I’ll try to even it out so it doesn’t look like a mess until your appointment. Sound good?”
He blinked at her in the mirror, gaped like a fish for a moment before nodding dumbly. “Um… yeah. Sure. Thanks, Mom.”
She smiled brightly before concentrating on his hair, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth, just like he did when he focused on something. Her fingers were soft against his neck and she was humming quietly and his hair was gone and suddenly it felt right. So he took a deep breath and whispered, “MomI’msorrybutI’maboy,” in one breath, eyes locked on hers through the mirror.
Her hands froze in place as she stared at the hair she was just about to snip away. His stomach sunk because oh no oh no she isn’t saying anything shehatesmeshehatesmeshehatesme -
“I’ve been making you clothes for a girl for who knows how long when I could have been trying my hand at boy’s clothes?”
Riley jolted, spinning to look at his mom with wide blue eyes. “What?”
She set the scissors on the counter, placed her hands on her waist. “When did you realize? Because if it was earlier than a month ago then I totally could have been making you guy’s clothes rather than girl’s.”
Relief flooded his body at the fact that she was more distressed with the fact that she could have been making different clothes rather than the fact that her little girl was actually her little boy. “I- about a year, really, but I wasn’t sure until three months ago. When you gave me that dress for my birthday.” He shuddered at the thought of the flowy yellow dress that accentuated every curve of his body. It gave him intense dysphoria every time he so much as glanced at it. In the end, it was that last straw that finally made him accept that he was trans and not just imagining it.
His mom’s eyes widened comically. “You kept it from me that long? Why? It’s no big deal, really.”
He fidgeted with his fingers and avoided her eyes, feeling tears begin to well up in his own. “It wasn’t logical, I know. I was just afraid… I don’t know why.”
And then her perfume was stronger than ever as she wrapped her arms around him tightly, murmured, “You never have too afraid to tell me anything, Rach-“
“Riley,” he choked out, gripping her back just as tightly, and it’s only when he couldn’t breathe that he realized he was sobbing into his mom’s new dress. “Call me Riley, please.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “You never have to be afraid to tell me anything, Riley. I’ll love you no matter what you do or feel or know, okay? You’re my dau- my son and nothing will make me stop loving you. Nothing.”
Never in his life had anything felt so amazing than this moment. Hearing the words Riley and son leave Penelope Garcia’s lips was like feeling a weight come off his chest, like he could finally breathe for the first time in his life. Like he could finally be himself.
They stayed there a bit longer, just holding onto each other until Riley’s sobs died down. Finally they pulled apart and he wiped at his cheeks to get the tears away, followed the tracks down to his neck. His eyes kept moving down until finally he was looking at his bra and he blurted out, “Can we buy me a binder?”
She laughed, wiped away her own tears, not even bothering to try to salvage her smeared makeup. “Of course, Riley. Now, why don’t I finally fix your hair?”