Chapter Text
Holland March wouldn't call himself the best father in the world, hell he wouldn't even call himself a good father. But he was a father, one that showed up when needed but not enough. He feels guilty about that, and he's working on it. Like his drinking; taking things day by day.
That's why he was currently sat in a parent crowded hallway during parent teacher interviews. Off to the side watching as Holly chatted with a smaller brunette girl her age. Smiling softly as he watched them talk excitedly, bouncing on their heels, before Holly whipped around.
"Dad! Claire wanted to know if I could go to her house this weekend, like a sleepover and stuff!" Holland licked his lips, turning his head to the side, looking down the hallway before looking back to his daughter,
"Sweetheart, again, don't say 'and stuff'. But yeah. As long as it's okay with her folks, it's fine." Holly clapped excitedly, before racing back towards the now named Claire. Grabbing her hands as the two of them laughed. Seeing Holly happy made Holland feel less like a failure, it also reminded him of his wife. Holly had her smile.
Holland felt the sting in his eyes build before he blinked it away, wiping his eyes quickly, and sniffling. Holly was waving him over with quick hands, insistently. His dress shoes clicked against the tiled floor of the school hallway, trailing after the two girls to where he assumed Claires parents would be, only to be met with a stoic, tall man.
"Si—Court, can Holly come over for the weekend? Mr. March said it was okay as long as you agreed." Hollands head tilted to the side ever so slightly, his eyebrows furrowing. Did she just call him by his first name?
"Sure." Court looked towards Holland, with a curt nod and twitch of his eyebrow. Hollands mouth went dry. The two girls high fived with excited giggles and they ran off to another group of girls further down the hall. Holland shifted nervously under Courts gaze, his neck flushing a gentle pink.
"So, you're the infamous Mr. March I've heard about." Courts voice spooked Holland, his body jolting slightly.
"It appears so. I uh—Holly hasn't mentioned anything about you and Claire..." He squeaks. His voice raising an octave higher. Court just licks his lips, an amused smile gracing his features. Holland felt judged. Silently wishing for his daughter to come racing back down the hallway, "I—Claire called you Court? I'm assuming that's your name... why does she—I mean I'm not gonna judge how you parent or anything. God knows I'm not in any position..." Holland rambles, his hands motioning in a way that had Court looking at him strangely.
"She's not my kid. Adopted." Hollands lips part in a soft 'oh', nodding.
"That—yeah okay that makes more... sense..." Court just hummed. His gaze flicking towards where their respective daughters had gone, silently motioning Holland to follow him, as he turned, walking down the hallway.
Holland stood there for a moment, feeling very stupid. His eyes looking up at the ceiling when he tilted his head back, groaning quietly at himself. He needed to learn when to stop talking, it's making him look stupid. Though, Holly would argue wearing suits all the time, paired with his facial hair did enough of that without him needing to open his mouth. Daughters, right?
The day of the sleepover, Holland was double, triple, and quadruple checking that Holly had everything she needed. Holly was fed up by the time the two of them were in the car, heading towards the Gentry's.
"Just—dad, don't talk once we get there. You're just dropping me off." Holland nodded, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel,
"Didn't plan on talking." He mumbled, a hand dropping from the wheel to the radio, turning it up slightly. Holly huffed in her seat, looking out the window. The late afternoon sun shining into the cab of the car, basking everything in a crispy golden glow.
"You know, you could give me a break sometime. Lest you forget I'm—I can be a fun, cool guy, you know. I'm very fun to talk to." Holland shrugs, looking over at his brooding daughter for a moment. His attention returning to the road.
"You're like... the least cool person I know."
"The least cool? Really?"
"That's what I just said." Holland merely sighed, accepting defeat. The rest of the drive over was silent, apart from the dulcet tones from the radio, which Holland hummed softly much to Holly's disappointment. When Holland put the car in park, Holly hurriedly opened the passenger side door, hand gripping her bag like it owed her money. Slamming the door behind her. Holland just smiled at his daughter, shaking his head he followed her movement of getting out of the car. Shutting his door, making his way up to the front porch.
"Next time you get out of the car, go easy on the door. Please," Holland whispered to Holly, finger pressing into the doorbell. The house they were outside of was nice. Way nicer than their rental. That might be a bias of Hollands, though. He hated the rental.
"Fine." Holly grumbled. Bouncing on her heels as the two of them waited for the door to open.
Courts built frame appeared in the now open door, and Holland felt his mouth go dry again. He wanted to know what the hell this guy did for work or as a workout to be that big, because the way his arms were practically stretching the fabric of his t-shirt should be illegal. Christ, what was wrong with him?
"Hi Mr. Gentry!" Holly greeted brightly. Court flashed Holly a smile, opening the door wider for the two of them to walk through. Holly gratefully, and excitedly beelined it inside the house, having spotted Claire just inside, waving and leaving Holland to stand there awkwardly with Court.
"You wanna come in for a drink...?" Court asked, his thumb jutting over his shoulder.
"I should uh—be heading back... I took a job this weekend since—well you know. Plus... I shouldn't drink and drive..." Holland shrugged, a breathy laugh leaving his throat, gesturing at the open doorway. He waved his arm out to point towards his parked car. Court looked towards the car, seeing the dented bumper and cracked headlight, before looking back at Holland. His eyebrows raising. Silent questioning.
"I meant coffee, or water, March." Court said flatly. Holland awkwardly chuckled, nodding.
"Yep. That—that's exactly what I thought you meant. Mhm." Court just stared at him. His grip on the door tightening for a moment before he relaxed it, "Yeah, I'm just—I'll be going now." Holland pointed back at his car, roughly stepping backwards. Stumbling slightly.
Court looked back into the house, seeing Claire and Holly sitting at the kitchen table, before he decided to walk outside, closing the door quietly behind him. Following Holland to his car,
"You know you're quite... awkward." Holland physically jumped at the sound of Courts voice.
"Jesus Christ! What the fuck is wrong with you?! What are you? Some sort of ninja?!" Hollands voice was high. His hand was pressed into his chest as he slumped against his car door. Chest rising and falling harshly. Court just licked his lips and smirked at the shorter man. Arms crossing over his broad chest.
"You always this jumpy?" He jutted his chin in Hollands direction. Holland huffed.
"No. Maybe. Whatever, what's it to you? You were the one who appeared out of thin air with no warning." He pointed at Court, to which Court shrugged. Holland, frustrated, fished his pack of cigarettes from his slacks. Pulling one from it with his teeth, lighting it a moment later, "Do you do that a lot?"
"Do what a lot?" Court asked, eyebrows furrowing.
"Sneak up on innocent people and give them heart attacks with your ninja skills." Hollands words earned an eyeroll and scoff. A puff of smoke leaving Hollands lips when he spoke.
"Those are bad for you, y'know." Court nodded at the cigarette, avoiding Hollands question entirely.
"Well aware, thank you."
Court just sighed, nostrils flaring. Looking back towards the house, he clicked his tongue, "Well, you have yourself a nice night, March. Holly gave you my phone number, right?" Holland shook his head, eyebrows furrowing deeply in confusion.
"Was she supposed to?" He mumbled. Court sighed again, making a 'give me' motion with his hand. Holland pulled his phone from his slacks, opening a new contact and handing his phone over to the man.
"In case you need to reach me, or... something happens." Court said, finishing his typing on Hollands phone, he hands it back. Holland looks at the contact name, smiling slightly around his still lit cigarette.
'Courtland (Claire's dad)'
"Coolio." He nods, taking another puff of his cigarette before he drops it to the asphalt below, stepping on it. Court gives him another questioning look, before turning away and walking back to his house.
Holland sighed to himself, opening his car door. Grumbling expletives to himself, "Fucking idiot, man. Who the fuck says, 'coolio'?" He shakes his head, sliding into the driver's seat with an annoyed groan. His head drops against his steering wheel, accidentally honking the horn which makes Court look back towards him, eyebrows furrowed. Holland looks up and waves a hand dismissively towards Court, shaking his head as best he could to signal he didn't mean to do that.
God he was a mess. He needed a drink. Maybe ten.