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Handling the Parents

Summary:

For Tumblr user bellamuerte-13's request: Tommy and Sal meet the Buckley parents and witness first-hand how horrible they are.

(Set in my P3 universe, but works as a standalone)

Notes:

A little spin-off in my P3 verse, set in the undefined future. For Tumblr user bellamuerte-13's request: Tommy and Sal meet the Buckley parents and witness first-hand how horrible they are.

Work Text:

Sal was going to kill someone. Not just anyone, either. No, he had a very specific target in mind: the man currently across from Evan Buckley, one of the men Sal loved, who had the audacity to raise his voice at his son.

Evan's parents had shown up unannounced and unapologetic. Thankfully, they hadn't tried it at their home—that would have been worse. But it was bad enough for them to show up at the station. Sal's station.

He remembered Evan glancing at his phone, a faint smile still on his face from something Tommy had said. They'd surprised Sal at work with a late dinner, the kind he was trying to avoid because, cholesterol. Not that he'd put up a token protest when Evan had stepped into his office with a kind of stern love, saying, "You should have been home an hour ago. The paperwork will wait until tomorrow."

It wouldn't really. Captain Taylor had saved Sal's ass last month when half his B-shift people had been down with a mean streak of the flu; the least Sal could do was make sure everything was in order for the firehouse inspection next month. But there was still time for that. And his two men had already taken over the desk in his office without waiting for a proper response.

It had been a nice surprise, something that warmed Sal from the inside out. Until Evan glanced at his phone . When he looked back up, something close to panic had flashed across his face. Evan had tried to hide that first raw emotion, mentioning his parents, and Maddie hadn't realized that asking where he was tonight would lead them to come looking.

Sal knew enough to connect the dots, offering to pack up quickly and make their way home. But Evan gave a minuscule headshake, even as Tommy's hand landed on his shoulder in silent support. Sal had sat close enough at least to hook their ankles together.  

"It's fine. It's... not that bad."

Sal would beg to differ. He'd been wary to believe it before the interaction, but he knew for sure that Evan was downplayng it now. Evan's father had glanced at Sal and Tommy exactly once, and Sal, who'd dealt with a lot of different expressions thrown his way, could read faces well. He distinctly remembered Evan rambling only a week ago about how there was a single emotion that moved facial muscles asymmetrically. Disgust .

The only reason Sal hadn't moved to join Evan immediately was the quiet promise Evan had extracted from them both, back in the office. "Let me handle it, I know that - I can. They're not bad people. Just... bad parents," and there had been so much wrong with that already, but Sal gritted his teeth. "Promise me."

Tommy had nodded, and Sal imagined his own nod had looked similarly robotic. But there was no way he'd leave them alone. He'd stand right here, just in sight of the closest fire engine. The C-shift crew, clearly able to read the atmosphere, wandered by with little more than a quick nod of acknowledgment , asking no questions.

Sal thought the whole 'temperature plummeted' thing from Tommy's cheesy romance novels was very over the top. Well, the joke was on him—because the man across from Evan had managed to do it without Sal even hearing most of what was said. He'd seen Evan wince, for God's sake. Yep. He was going to kill that man.

Make no mistake, Sal would come for Evan's mother, too. The ice woman who stood right next to that despicable man. It was in her eyes that coldness so all-consuming it spread to the air around her, despite that smile on her face. It was a sad mask, a crumpled paper sheet with nothing underneath.

"I'll help bury the body," Tommy said next to him, and for a moment, Sal wondered if he'd spoken aloud. But then Tommy curled gentle fingers around his arm, brushing a thumb over his skin like he tended to do when Sal simmered with barely contained rage. Usually, his husband's response was a little sterner—not chiding exactly, but reminding Sal to be mindful of the dangerous heat curling in the center of his chest, waiting to be unleashed.

Unease radiated from Evan, almost a physical thing. Gone was the man Sal knew so well, replaced with a meeker version, someone who held himself smaller, his movements fluttering not with excitement, but nervousness. Sal hated every minute, even more so when Mrs. Buckley raised a finger at him.

"Let's go for her first," Tommy muttered, his jaw so tight Sal reached out to tap his knuckles against it. It was a brief touch; they were taking liberties as it was. And for all that Sal wanted to shove this in the Buckleys' face—to tell them, ' Look how brave, intelligent, kind your beautiful son is. Look at the kind of affection he deserves, the love he has here; nothing like you, never like you' —he didn't want to make it worse for Evan.

Sal respected Evan's earlier request. He could understand the need to handle this himself, even if he wished Evan understood he didn't have to anymore, that he wasn't alone in this. Sal would gladly punch his father, but he'd also figure out ways to keep both of Evan's parents out of their lives without anyone being the wiser.

He was in the process of plotting said strategies, already planning how to cause the most possible inconvenience to these people on this side of the law, when the conversation seemed to escalate. Tension snapped down his spine - and then it loosened all at once, when Evan flinched back from his father, moving his hands a little too quickly.

Sal was half-between the two men before he'd entirely realized he'd moved.

" You're done ," he said, his own voice low and dangerous. Evan's hand fisted into the back of his shirt.

"Who are you to- "

"Doesn't matter who I am," Sal told him, deadly calm despite his boiling blood. "You're done talking to him. And next time, you'll ask Evan if he wants to talk to you before just appearing. Or better yet: You just get lost."

Sal didn't wait for them to splutter a reply, just thought, 'Fuck this,' and ushered Evan away from the pair, even as he realized he'd just broken his promise spectacularly. Well, he'd deal with that in a minute. For now, what he needed more than anything was to get Evan away from these poisonous people, to never let them back in his life.

"Sal."

He was fuming. Who the fuck did these people think they were? How dare they come here and talk down to Evan? Sal had heard snippets and could guess the rest from what Evan had told him. He hadn't expected that particular reaction, that flinch that told him so much - because if he had, Sal would have never let Evan within shouting distance of those vile people.

"Sal-"

There was a special place in hell for parents who could make their adult children flinch with just a sharp gesture. It was a very loud truth, one Sal hadn't quite expected to reveal tonight, not with Evan's reassurances of 'they're not that bad'.

"Tory!"

Sal drew up short, exhaling heavily. He turned, the nickname Tommy had for him ringing in his ears, only processing that Evan had been the one to use it when he came face-to-face with him. He felt like an absolute ass when he saw the sadness in Evan's expression. Oh, fuck.

"I-"

"It's okay," Evan said, his hands on Sal's face. "We're all good. I'm fine."

He belatedly realized he was shaking all over, all this contained adrenaline leaking out of him - not all anger, but something Sal didn't even want to acknowledge. On his next exhale, he grabbed Evan's wrists, dislodging them just enough to draw Evan into a hug. He was probably holding on too tightly.

"Stop it. I'm the one supposed to comfort you."

Evan returned the embrace. "I think we can do some mutual comforting."

Maybe they could. Maybe they should - but Sal still had a hard time feeling anything but rage and this impossible, large need to protect Evan, to never let anything bad ever touch him again.

They stood for a while like that, time weirdly liquid and a little too slow. It only right itself, when Another pair of arms wrapped around both of them. Sal looked up at Tommy, wondering for half a beat if they'd really have to hide a body.

"I made sure they left," Tommy said. "Thought maybe you didn't want to visit your husband in jail."

"I'd give you an alibi," Evan muttered, sounding as exhausted as Sal felt. He tightened his hold. Slowly but surely, the anger drained, bit by bit . With the hold of the man who'd almost managed to temper his heart, even when he was all dangerous inferno - and the man who was so kind at his core that all Sal wanted to be was better .

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