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Tonight had not gone at all how Bill had expected it to, and was still subverting his expectations.
He’d definitely not been expecting the tearful phone-call from Bishop in the middle of the night, nor had he been expecting to find h- them so distressed. Hadn’t expected the nearly-tearful confession, and was now even more wrong-footed by being the one to drive the car as Bishop sat quietly in the passenger seat. He promised to take them home, but quickly realised that may be more complicated than he first thought.
He can’t take them back to their apartment, that’s for sure. He’d actually thought Genevieve had been nice when he first met her, thought that she balanced Bishop out nicely. Now all he wants is to keep her a few miles away from Bishop.
God, how could anyone be so cruel?
With Bishop’s apartment out of the question, and his step-mother taking up the spare room in his house, the only space he can think of to offer them is the couch. Not a perfect fix, and tomorrow they can figure out something more permanent, and hopefully more comfortable too.
A quick glance to his right reveals his passenger staring out of their window, the slight reflection revealing the tear rolling down their cheek.
Ah, hell. He’s no good at this sort of thing, and calling them out on this is probably only going to make things worse.
“Thank you, for telling me,” Bill says eventually. “Mustn’t have been an easy thing to keep to yourself.”
Bishop huffs with amusement, a hand coming up to wipe the tear from their cheek. “Dr Reyes said something similar,” they remark.
“Wait, you told Paula already?” Bill feigns offence. “Hell, Bishop. Here I was thinkin’ I was special.”
“I’m sure Dr Reyes thinks your special, Sheriff,” Bishop replies.
“You planning on telling anyone else?”
“Cade should know,” Bishop eventually replies.
Bill is smart enough to hear the unspoken ‘but’. He waits a second, in case Bishop decides to elaborate on their own.
“You know he won’t have a problem, right?” Bill reminds them. “And if he did, he’d have me to deal with.”
“I know!” Bishop’s shoulders rise up, their defeated slouch instantly turning into the most defensive stance they can manage sitting in the car. “It’s just… I’m tired.”
“You can wait until the morning.” Bill frowns, unsure as to what the problem really is.
“No, I mean… I’m tired.” They run a hand through their hair. “Like, coming out is draining. And having to explain myself is just… it’s a lot. It’s not that I don’t want to tell him, I’m just tired.”
Ah, that he can understand. Kind of. It’s not a predicament he’ll ever be in but the explanation has certainly helped. “I can tell him, if it’ll help?”
“You would?”
“If the problem is that you’re too tired to explain everything again, then yeah. I might not be able to answer questions he’ll have but I can at least update him on your pronouns.” He stops the car at a red light to let some pedestrians cross the street, and uses the time to look at Bishop again, relieved to see a small smile back on their face.
“That’d be great, Sheriff. Thanks.”
“Anytime, Bishop.”