gods & monsters challenge by sageness

[sage]

Title: Mother, do you think they'll try to break my balls?
Author: Sage
Characters: Sheppard family gen
Length: 900~ words
notes: Title from Pink Floyd.




John glared across the demolished platter of roast beef in the center of the table. His father glared back. John took a breath and tried to calm down, but he couldn't, not this time, not with his dad and Dave both pushing his buttons. "I suppose things were simpler back when the worst thing you could call someone was a Commie, and the government's big concern was what Brezhnev would do next."

His father was turning red.

"Dad, remember your blood pressure," Dave said, and John shot him a glare. Always the good little boy. Always the one who followed the rules and tattled on John for going his own way. Always the one the girls looked twice at, which was just insult to injury.

"Thank god your mother isn't here, rest her soul." Patrick Sheppard wiped his face with his napkin and took a long drink of iced tea. "There is nothing civil I can think to say to you, John."

John raised an eyebrow. Then he sat back in his chair, holding his gaze steady, challenging. He wasn't going to cave to daddy's disapproval. Not this time. Not anymore.

Dave was looking at him like some kind of strange insect. Or possibly a train wreck.

"You got a problem with me, little brother?" John said.

Dave snorted. "Where do you want me to start?"

"David," their father said sharply.

"You have no right to spring this—"

"What about Nancy?" their dad asked.

"What about her?" John said.

"What about her?" they shouted in unison.

"She's your wife!" his dad said.

"We're getting an annulment. The divorce is official in about twelve weeks. We're splitting everything down the middle."

"John—" his dad said.

"You know what I do for a living, Dad." John's voice was tight. "You know I'm never here, and you know I can't be here if I'm ever going to make Major."

"You'll be damned lucky if they don't court martial your sorry ass," Dave said.

"Thanks," John said coldly. "Thanks for that. I'll be sure to put you on my visitors list when I end up in Leavenworth."

"John—" his dad said again.

"What?" John snapped.

"Why? Why now? If you've been hiding this from us for so long, what's changed?"

John swallowed. "If you're asking if you're about to have an unofficial son-in-law, the answer is no."

"Oh Jesus," Dave said.

"I'm just sick of pretending, is all."

Patrick Sheppard stared at John for a long minute. John didn't squirm. His training was too good for that, and he was too much of a natural smartass. His dad's eyes narrowed and seemed to peer into him, and for a moment it felt like they were complete strangers.

Then it was over. "When all your work is classified, sometimes a man has to tell a hard truth to square the balance." He looked sharply from John to Dave and back to John. "Understand me?"

John nodded. "Yes, I do," he said quietly.

"I know you've skated along with your CO's saying, 'Oh, that's old Pat Sheppard's kid. He's a hellion, but we'll give him a break.' " He glared at John. "I just wish you'd told us a different secret."

Silence fell, and John felt the same knot in his gut as when they'd learned his mom had stage three breast cancer and six months to live.

Then his father said, "But you listen and listen good, John. If you get yourself into any more trouble, don't you expect any help from me. From here on out, you might as well not be my son at all."

It hit John like a gut punch. He gaped as his father stood up and left the table.

Dave stood up and moved to follow, but he stopped before he reached the doorway from the dining room. "You complete asshole," Dave said. "It's a miracle you didn't give him a coronary."

John was still reeling, but he managed, "I'm the asshole?"

Dave crossed his arms over his chest. John remembered Dave doing that right before every fight they ever had.

John cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as he pushed his chair back from the table. "Okay, fine, maybe I'm the asshole; but what the hell are you, Dave? You're acting like…fuck, it's like you're trying to take Mom's place or something."

Then Dave was there, pulling John out of his chair and throwing a punch that caught him square in the jaw.

"You dirty faggot," Dave hissed.

John fell back against the sideboard, and the keepsakes on the top shelf rattled precariously. He got his feet under him and stared Dave down. A long moment passed. "I know exactly what I am, bro," he said, and rubbed his jaw. "The question is what the hell did you turn into while I was away?"

More silence. John watched the tension in Dave's jaw, words almost forming, bitten back by grinding teeth. Finally, Dave said, "I really think you should leave now."

With a rude noise, John pushed off the sideboard and sauntered over to the kitchen door, which was closer to the back stairs anyhow. "Oh, don't mind me, Davy," he said in an exaggerated drawl. "I was already on my way out."