Work Text:
Even After It All
The worst part was probably that he hadn't meant what he said to Tristan. He had been angry, furious. He had trusted Tristan ,depended on Tristan to be his confidant, the one person he knew that he could be himself around. The one person he knew wouldn't judge him.
He walked into school that morning dressed in the World War ll uniform his dad let him borrow and set out to find Tristan to make things right between them. When Tristan agreed to his apology, Miles had felt ten times lighter than before and hopeful that everything would go back to normal- or normal at that time.
Then the intervention happened.
"Are you really that desperate for somebody to love you?", Miles had said to Tristan.
The silence in the room had been deafening, and the classroom had felt as though it were closing in on him, trapping him, suffocating him. He couldn't tear his eyes off of the blonde boy in front of him, He knew that he had went too far with that last comment. But at that same time he was too angry to care, he had wanted- needed to get out that classroom as soon as possible.
He got into his car, his hands shaking with adrenaline, finding difficulty putting the key into the engine. Once he was successfully able to turn the car on, he backed out of his spot, not paying any attention to his rear view mirror, that is when he heard and felt a thud and a scream. Miles quickly got out the car and hurried to the back of his convertible to see a mess of blonde hair tangled around a bike. Maya.
" oh just perfect," he muttered to himself.
"Are you okay?" he asked impatiently. He was being a jerk, he knew that.
She looked up at him and quietly said "yeah", while trying to get herself up.
By the time that Maya got situated on her bike, Miles was already sliding into his car and closing the door. He honked the horn impatiently so that Maya could move out of his way for him to back out, for the second time. In two minutes he found himself on the road to his house. Miles reached around his car for a blunt and a lighter. He was feeling agitated and needed something to help him calm down after the day he had.
He lit one up and smoked it as the smell of weed filled his car. Miles was driving so fast that he didn't hear nor see the police sirens behind him as he turned the corner to his neighborhood.
"Shit" he said out loud. He pulled over on the side of the entrance to the gated neighborhood, and looked for his drivers license in his wallet and insurance paperwork.
The knock on his window made him jump and curse as he lifted himself up. The officer was talking in a radio and had a notepad in his hand. Miles rolled down the window, putting his best " get me out of trouble smile" he could muster in his fear.
" Young man, do you know how fast you were going?" the officer took of his sunglasses to peer at him.
" I..uh..I'm not sure, sir" Miles's voice faltered over his answer.
"You were going 85 miles per hour on a 45 speed limit, which is illegal"
Shit. He hadn't realize how fast he was going. He was so high that he had felt like he was only going 30, so he decided to crank up the speed. Miles opted to sweet talk the officer.
"I'm so sorry, sir. It won't happen again"
The officer stared into Miles's eyes, as if he were searching for the answers to the universe. Miles realized that he must look high, so he turned his face away from the officer and faced forward.
The officer asked to see Miles's license, which Miles gave him. He then recorded all the information on his pad and handed the license back. The officer then wrote down more information on his notepad
" Since this is your first infraction, I'm going to let you off the hook with a small fine" Miles let out a small breath of relief," But, I am also going to have to contact your legal guardians", the officer continued.
Miles's heart stopped at that very moment. No..no...no. If his dad found out that he messed up again by getting a ticket...he would... Miles wasn't sure what he would do. Probably hit him or beat him up. Images of his father slamming him into the wall flashed into his head, causing him to grip the steering wheel tightly.
The officer then ripped off the ticket and handed it to him through the window.
"Make sure this doesn't happen again. I would hate for a young man like you to lose his license after just getting it" the officer then turned around and headed to his patrol car and sped off with his lights flashing.
Miles's breathing decreased slightly and he sluggishly started his car and headed home.
When he turned into his driveway he could see his father's Mercedes in the driveway. His mother's mustang was not parked in her usual spot. Miles took his time getting out the car and into the house. His dad was the one person he did not want to face, especially since he just got his first ticket. He walked into the the living room to find his dad ending a call on his cell phone. He stopped dead in his tracks. His dad looked up at him, and Miles knew, he just knew that his dad had found out.
"What the hell were you thinking?" his dad got up and walked around the couch to grab a glass from the kitchen.
"Dad, I'm sorry.. I just had a bad day. It won't happen again" Miles calmly pleaded, knowing that if he were to start an argument, things would not end well.
The silence stretched as Miles watched his father slowly sip the glass of scotch, his eyes baring into Miles.
"What game are you playing at, huh?" his dad's voice was low and menacing. It made Miles's skin crawl, and not in a good way.
"What did I do to deserve a fucking mess like you?"
"Look, I said I was sorry" Miles's voice raising slightly.
At that moment his father raised his glass and threw it. It happened so suddenly that Miles barely had time to move out of the way. The glass collided into the wall next to his head, dispersing glass everywhere. A piece of glass cut him on the cheek.
He raised his hand to his cheek. It was bleeding.
"Don't tell anyone about this, Miles. I swear to god, you'll regret it " his dad warned him with a snarl.
Miles turned around and ran. He ran out of the room so fast that he tripped over his own feet going down the steps to the driveway. He got into his car and sped out of his neighborhood.
Fifteen minutes later, he found himself in front of Tristan's door.
He lifted his hand up to ring the doorbell, but hesitated. How could he ask Tristan to talk to him, let alone look at him, after all the things Miles had said to him?
Miles shook his head and began to head back to his car. That's when he heard the door open. Miles stopped.
"Miles?"
"What are you doing here?" he could hear the surprise in Tristan's voice.
He turned around slowly, his head facing down. He heard a small gasp escape from Tristan.
"Oh my god Miles, you're bleeding" the worry in Tristan's voice, made Miles want to throw up, even after everything he said to Tristan that day, all the hurt and pain he had seen in his eyes, Tristan still cared.
"Miles"
"- can I please just come in?" Miles finally leveled his eyes onto the boy standing in the doorway.
Tristan moved to the side of the door and allowed Miles into the foyer. The house was quiet, indicating that Tristan was the only one at home.
Miles stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as Miles closed the door behind them. A little time went by, he could hear the blonde rummaging through drawers in the bathroom, probably looking for the first aid kit.
"Come here, Miles" he heard from the bathroom.
Miles hesitated. Unsure if he should follow the voice that he knew so well or continue to stand where he was. He decided to follow. He walked towards the bathroom where Tristan was removing a Ziploc bag filled with first aid materials.
"Sit down", Tristan instructed him quietly.
So Miles lowered himself onto the covered toilet seat, waiting quietly and patiently as Tristan took out bandages, alcohol wipes, and gauze. Tristan then turned to Miles. Miles was expecting to see anger, or even hurt. But all Miles saw was, nothing. Tristan's expression was completely emotionless-dead.
"This might sting" Tristan mumbled
He then began to wipe clean the cut on Miles's cheek, gently. Tristan's eyes stayed focused on his cheek, never once peeking up to look at Miles. After a couple of seconds, Tristan placed a bandage on his cheek, his fingers lightly brushing Miles's cheek as he pressed it down. Miles shivered slightly and not because he was cold.
Miles found himself sitting on a coach in the Milligan's living room. Tristan sat across from him in a small love-seat. He could feel Tristan's eyes on him as Miles twiddled with his fingers on his lap, unable to look up at Tristan. He heard a small sigh from the other side of the room and he looked up.
"What happened Miles? And don't say "it's nothing" , because what I just cleaned up wasn't just nothing" Tristan's voice was quiet, yet forceful at the same time.
Miles knew that he had to explain why he was here. He searched through his mind to find a valuable excuse why he had come to Tristan looking the way he had. But he knew that Tristan would see right through the lie. He always seemed to, able to know when something was wrong, when he was lying.
Miles let out a audible breath and opened his mouth to answer, at that moment his phone buzzed in his back pocket. The sound of the buzzing filled the already quiet room. He reached behind him to see who was calling him. His looked at the screen to see that it was him. His dad. Miles felt himself go tense as he watched the phone continue to buzz.
"Aren't you going to answer it?" Tristan asked from his seat.
"No" Miles let the phone go to his voice mail. He had no intentions of talking to his father on the phone nor going back home to face him.
"Was it your dad?"
"Yeah, he was the one calling" Miles replied stiffly as he began to turn his phone off.
"No. Was it your dad that did that to your face?" Tristan asked slowly.
Miles froze. Yes, yes, his dad had done this to him. Had been physically abusing Miles since the beginning of the school year. He wanted to yell, but nothing came out of his mouth.
He heard Tristan rise from his seat and walk slowly towards where Miles was sitting. Tristan sat down next to him, leaving an arms length of room between them.
"Miles...is..is your dad abusing you?"
Silence
"Yes," was all that he replied.
The silence continued to stretch out between them. Miles felt violated, angry, and defeated. He lifted his head to see that Tristan was not looking at him, but was staring at his clenched hands in his lap.
"That monster," Miles heard him say. Tristan turned to him, looking Miles in the eye. "That's why you've be..been distant," Tristan said to himself.
"I should have known, I should have help-" Tristan stopped.
"This isn't your fault, Tris" Miles said softly, "It's mine"
"No! Miles, please....No. This is and will never be your fault, okay? You can never convince me that, that cut on your face, is your fault "
At that moment he could feel a build up of tears forcing their way out of Miles. Unable to stop them, he let out a small sob, tears flowing down his face. Tristan inched closer and wrapped his arms around him. Miles could smell the fabric softer that Tristan used, the smell of freshly washed laundry. He continued to cry, his shoulders trembling. He could feel Tristan's other arm wrap around him embracing him completely.
It was like he couldn't stop. As if his tears wanted to flood the entire room. The tears flowed and continued until he couldn't cry anymore.
He pulled back to breath in some air to discover that Tristan's eyes were red. He had been crying. He had made Tristan cry yet again, he thought to himself.
“I’m sorry.” Miles said, biting his lip to stop a sob from exiting/
“You have nothing – absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Nothing he ever did is your fault, and you will never, ever apologize for the abuse that man inflicted on you. Okay?”
Tristan placed a hand on his cheek slowly discarding the tears that continued to flow. Miles closed his eyes from the touch.
“None of this is your fault, okay?” Tristan's eyes were fierce and truthful and for the first time in such a long, long time Miles believed it.
“Okay.” Miles nodded in return.
"Do you want something to eat? You left during lunch today after the..." Tristan trailed off.
"Yeah, thanks" he cut him off.
Tristan squeezed his hand before getting up. All that instance, Miles felt empty and alone. He grabbed onto Tristan's arm, stopping him from leaving. " Tris.." Miles began.The other boy turned to him.
"I-I love you" he stuttered, "I am so fucking sorry for hurting you, for saying those things, I didn't mean any of it".
"I know you didn't mean it Miles. And it's okay."
"I hurt you and I might keep hurting you. Why do you keep coming back to me?" Miles asked.
"I guess that's what you do when you love someone."
"Look, that's in the past okay? Let's focus on the now. I love you and all that matters"
This whole time Tristan had been his and Miles had pushed him away, scared that Tristan would get up and leave him, just like everyone else seemed to do.
"You just have to let me in, Miles. Pushing away the people that love you the most only makes the pain worse"
"Promise me that you'll talk to me more?" Tristan asked.
Miles as quiet for a while, taking in everything that just transpired between them. He decided.
"I will." Miles would. He would trust Tristan more than anyone. Now that he knew that Tristan was not going to leave, he could do this....he could learn to love someone.