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English
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Published:
2018-12-18
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1,514
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1/1
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When Push Comes to Shove

Summary:

Seeing Henry and Joey argue on the job was nothing new.
But up until then, nobody had got hurt.

Work Text:

The deafening yelling matches between the studio’s two head figures were a normal occurrence. Even the newest workers learned quickly to back away when things became heated enough, or when an older colleague would take a hold of their arm and drag them to a safe distance away. Those who had been working at the studio since its launch had in fact grown so accustomed to Mr. Drew’s and Henry’s arguments that they rarely bothered intervene with the bickering. They merely ensured there were no loose objects present in the room before they made a hasty retreat. There had been one memorable time when a freshly-hired secretary had attempted to calm the two men down, stating how unprofessional such a behavior was. How it may set a poor example for other workers, especially for the trainees.

He hadn’t stayed for long.

Today, it started as soon as they all walked in. A group of the workers shifted aside, stumbling down the staircase leading down to the main lounge area when the first notes of raising voices carried over to their ears. None of them gave a second glance to the pair who stayed at the top, and no one was as foolish as to try and offer their opinion to the matter. It was obvious that this was one of those fights which had been brewing under the surface for a while now.

Henry was usually the one to back down, or at least take into the consideration how publicly the two of them fought. He would try and steer them both into Joey’s personal office, or to an empty kitchen area if it happened to be closer. However, Joey was not an easy man to deal with even during his better days, and today in particular he had managed to hit a nerve with Henry, and the animator was unwilling to yield.

“If you think for a second we’re going to pour money into something as flimsy as this -”

“Henry, you wound me! Would it be too much to ask for a little bit of faith? After all, I’m the one who writes the checks...”

“So you’d be the one to know exactly why we can’t risk it right now!” The whole studio was able to hear them at this point, but neither of them seemed to care. “You keep doing this, making big decision all by yourself!”

Joey’s posture tensed, his eyes turning icy. “That’s because you are too much of a coward to make any if it’d be left up to you!”

Wally Franks and Sammy Lawrence were the only employees remaining in the main hall, one of them sliding a bunch card into the little machine on the wall, but their eyes were glued to the situation unfolding in the stairs. Wally was openly staring at his boss’ rigid stance, fascinated by the layer of red flush starting to creep up on the man’s cheeks. Sammy, being more discreet by nature, glared at them from the corner of his eye, muttering to himself when the volume of the yells raised once more.

“Well if this is such a drag for you, maybe we should consider other options!” Henry took a step forward, forcing Joey to take one backwards.

“We don’t have other options!”Joey screamed, puffing out his chest in an effort to look more intimidating. Once upon a time it had worked on Henry, but those days were gone. Now, the only effect it had was Henry’s own barriers building up, bringing them standing inch apart from each other.

Henry, being slightly taller of the two, leaned over his partner, glaring at him as he hissed out, “Maybe you don’t, Joey. But I do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I have other plans if this all goes to hell.” His tone was returning back to normal. More than anything, he ended up sounding tired to the bone. “It’s not something I want to do, but I have to be realistic.”

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Cold, nerve-tingling tension settled down on the platform where the two men stood, not a sound to be heard. Below them, Sammy and Wally unintentionally fell silent as well, staring at the pair quietly.

Joey’s tone was chopped, sharp and borderline venomous.

“I see. That tramp’s got you under her thumb now, huh?”

A sudden crack of a wooden staircase sounded like a gunshot. Immediately the two workers at the bottom of the stairs looked up, but once they saw the scene on top, neither of them moved to go and intervene. Henry’s hand, curled tightly around the fractioned rail, was turning white on knuckles. The look on his face was furious, yet the voice coming out of him was oddly calm, steely even.

“What did you just say?”

Under his workers eyes, Joey shrugged, leaning towards Henry and poking an accusing finger at his chest. He seemed to be completely out of the loop, unaware or perhaps unwavered by the abrupt chance in Henry’s presence.

“You heard me. She’s the one pulling the strings, isn’t that right?” He poked again. “She is turning you against me! Against our creation! This was our dream, Henry. And now you’re just going to toss it all out for, what? A trivial little gremlin who should learn to keep her mouth shu -”

The sickening sound of a fist meeting flesh echoed in the hall. If one listened closely, they might’ve heard the crackling of the bones beneath. Bumping of a body as it tumbled down the stairs, the floorboards giving in as Joey’s limp frame smashed against them, ending only when he slumped in a motionless heap at the bottom of the staircase.

Sammy couldn’t get a word out. Not that he needed to, since Wally was doing the work for both of them, letting out a startling screech while dashing away from his side. Intending to hurry to Joey’s aid, no doubt.

But Sammy didn’t move. He simply let his gaze snail upwards, the coffee mug on his hand shaking slightly as his eyes met with Henry’s.

The man was a living statue. No movement, not even a blink as he stared down at the crumbled lump who, a moment ago, had been standing next to him at the platform. His face, pale and wide-eyed, was molting into a lifeless mask, no emotions slipping past under Sammy’s stare.

Then, like snapping out of a dream, he let out a choked gasp.

“I - I didn’t! It was just -” A hand rose up to cover his mouth, muffling the trembling voice. “Oh god...”

“Sammy, come here!” The musician jerked his head around and saw Wally waving at him frantically. The sheer level of panic in his usually light tone pulled Sammy out of the trance, and with a few shift leaps he was crouching beside the unmoving form of his boss.

“We gotta call an ambulance!” His hands unsteady, Wally hovered over the bloody body. He was babbling. "I dunno what to do! Is he alive? I think he might be alive...”

Sammy wasn’t too sure either, but unlike Wally, he was not going to let it show. “There is a phone in Jack’s office around the corner.” His throat felt scratchy, too dry to yell out. “Go make the call, and alert the others if you see anyone.”

Without a word the handyman jumped to his feet and raced off. That left only Sammy to stand in guard over the fallen man, and Henry who appeared to be frozen to place, his body collapsed against the panel wall behind him. He was visibly quavering now.

Sammy consciously avoided looking up.

It took far longer than he’d prefer for the paramedics to arrive, but once they did, a huge load of concern dissolved from his chest. The situation was out of his hands, nothing for him to do but wait for an answer when the medics eventually would have something to tell him. He had given his personal number just in case, knowing that Joey most likely didn’t have anyone else in his contact list.

Except...

He glanced at the ghost of a man standing numbly next to him in the narrow corridor. All the while the medics had asked questions, none of them had given a straight answer as to what actually had happened. Wally was too much of a mess to give any sort of explanation, and Sammy himself had never been a telltale. Especially since it had all gone down so fast. He needed time to sort it all out in his head before he’d contact anybody else about it.

But he couldn’t forget the smack of a fist he’d heard before the fall.

Or the look on his co-worker’s face when the body hit the ground.

And it was growing increasingly difficult to ignore the way the man swaying back and forth beside him muttered to himself.

The words were too quiet for him to hear, but he might take a guess.

He was just unwilling to hear the answer.