30 Quills: Stuck Like Glue (#14 ~ Frozen in time . . .)
A/N: I re-read the family matters arc and it made me realize we don’t really get to see much in the terms of how Teddy deals after his mom dies. I’ve always liked to believe that Teddy was very close to her, which would make it that much harder to deal with having her taken away so suddenly.
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Stuck Like Glue
30 Quills challenge: #14~Frozen in time . . .
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Every morning, Teddy would wake up to the clatter of dishes and pots, the whack of cabinet doors, and the creak of the pantry sliding open and shut. He didn’t really need an alarm clock because his mother had never moved about quietly a day in her life; of that he was sure. The wonderful smells of breakfast that wafted down the hall to his bedroom though, kept him from ever complaining too much about it.
He would trudge down the hall once he was ready for school and just watch the whirlwind that was Sarah Altman scurrying about the kitchen on nylon covered feet, heels waiting at the door for her to put on before she headed out. She was late-- as she was every other morning-- because she had thought she had time to make just one more thing for Teddy before having to leave for work. He was a growing teenager-- and the shapeshifting caused a huge appetite-- so she insisted he start his day with a good breakfast, especially since he had morning practice three times a week.
“Your going to be late, Mom,” Teddy would chide gently.
“Oh? What time is it?” she’d ask absently, digging through the freezer, or the pantry, or a cabinet, “Here, just one more thing--”
“Mom,” Teddy would chuckle and give her a firm push towards the door, “You’re going to miss your train-- again.”
“Alright, alright!” Sarah would hurry down the hall, only to come on loud clopping heels to kiss her son’s temple as he sat down to eat, running an affectionate hand through his hair and laying money on the table, “For lunch--”
With a piece of toast in her mouth, she’d run back down the hall and call as she exited the door, “Love you, hun. See you after school!”
For sixteen years of his life, that was all Teddy had known.
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Now the mornings greeted him in a strange bed, in a new room, in a house that however welcoming was simply not his own.
Mornings were quiet in the Kaplan house, where no one truly woke up until after their second cup of coffee. He would not walk down the hall to find his mother running about, but rather Mr. Kaplan in a silly apron, dwarfed by his gourmet kitchen, preparing some excruciatingly healthy breakfast for his family to grab on the go. Each tupperware would be organized on the large island counter by size and color and the order in which Billy's family members usually piled out the door.
Jeff was precise and methodical, every food item prepared in a timely manner so that he could reach the hospital exactly one hour before his first appointments. Mrs. Kaplan was just as diligent with her morning business, taking charge of Billy’s younger siblings to make sure they were impeccable for their long school day before dropping them at their bus stop and heading to her own office. Billy and Teddy would be the last ones out the door, trusted enough as the responsible almost-adults that they were, to make sure they did not dawdle before taking their bikes to school.
While it was great to have that extra time in the morning to bask in the simple comfort of Billy’s presence before they had to part ways to school, the orderly quiet of mornings in the Kaplan household only made Teddy miss the untimely calamity of his mother’s mornings even more.
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Every lunch hour Teddy would take the time, despite the friendly-- or otherwise-- jeering of his teammates, to find a quiet corner outside the cafeteria and call his mother. Sarah made sure to coordinate her lunch break to overlap with Teddy’s so that they could have at least a few minutes to catch up with each other. Ever since Teddy started high school, it seemed Sarah’s hectic work schedule and Teddy’s basketball too often conspired to keep them apart for longer than either was used to being
.
She would vent a little about the latest office drama, and he would let her in on the team’s newest inside joke, or ask for permission to hang with the guys after school. He always made sure she knew where he was at, and who he was with-- even if he wasn’t quite honest about what he might have doing at the time. He wondered sometimes if she had already known, and just said nothing, trusting him to do the right thing in the end . . .
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Now his lunch hour was spent alone on a shaded bench in the courtyard outside the noisy cafeteria. He had quit the basketball team shortly after the fiasco with Greg. The bastard had outed him as a mutant to the school, so no one would speak to him now if they could avoid it. Teddy wondered how much more ridiculous they would act if they realized he wasn’t a mutant at all, but rather the accidental product of a bi-racial alien union.
It could always get worse. He found himself thinking that too often for his own liking; an ineffectual comfort either way.
There were only two months left of the current school year, so the Kaplans thought it best he finish the year out here before starting at Billy’s school the coming fall. The lunch period at Billy’s school didn't start until after his ended, so Teddy could not call him to pass the time. He wouldn’t feel comfortable calling any of the others either, so he just ate his lunch in the silence of the courtyard, sometimes getting an early start on homework assignments to kill time before the bell rang.
Usually Billy managed to send him a quick text or two as he headed for his lunch and Teddy returned to his classes. But although the sweet encouraging messages gave him the strength to finish the day, they did little to assuage the wistful solitude of the hour that had once been filled with his mother's hyper chatter.
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Every evening since he became old enough to work the stove, it would be Teddy who got their dinner started. His mother was usually held up late at work by some last minute assignment or another, and he knew she needed that extra bit of overtime pay to keep them afloat. So he took it upon himself to surprise her one day with dinner on the table. She was so delighted, he made it a habit. Sarah always arrived with a contented exclamation of how good it smelled and how hungry she was.
"You make my life so wonderful," she would murmur kindly as she kissed his cheek before helping him finish whatever was on the stove.
"Mom," Teddy would whine as if embarrassed, but his small smile proved otherwise.
Together they would set the table, and alternate between eating in warm comfortable silence or laughing at each other's exaggerated stories of the day’s trials. His mother always washed, and Teddy always dried. Sometimes, if Teddy's homework was finished early enough, they would watch some movies before heading to bed.
"Goodnight, Mom," he would call when they finally turned in for the night.
"Sweet dreams, Teddy-bear," she would answer before the lights went out.
Teddy couldn't remember a night when he hadn't heard those words.
~+~
Now his evenings were filled the hyperactive clamor of Billy's brothers rushing through the door in front of Mrs. Kaplan even as she called, 'No running, you two!’ and then ‘Dinner's here!'
In her hands would be several large bags filled with containers of hot food picked up on the way home from one restaurant or another, rated with more stars than his own mother could have ever hoped to afford on her budget. The Kaplans worked late; and when they didn’t, Billy’s brothers would have Little League to attend. Their own afternoons were filled with Young Avenger business. Dinner was rarely home-cooked at the Kaplan home unless it was a holiday.
The dining room was only visited at this hour to get plates out of the china cabinet, the table was ignored in favor of the TV trays in the family room. Mr. Kaplan would turn on the nightly news for a short while before changing the channel to some game show during which idle talking took place between wild guesses at game show questions.
The small trays they used to eat made Teddy feel claustrophobic and awkward, too large for the room. Although, Jeff and Rebecca assured him after moving in that he could always have as much as he liked and that he was in no danger of breaking their budget, he still felt uncomfortable in their circle of carefully measured portions while his plate was piled several times higher than anyone else’s. Gameshows had never been his thing, but he was far too polite to state otherwise. Billy, bless him, had picked up on his discomfort after only a few nights, and found an easy compromise.
The pair would politely thank Mrs. Kaplan on her choice of restaurant for the evening, and take their share of the meal to sit at the breakfast bar bridging the family room and the kitchen; spacious enough to keep Teddy from getting claustrophobic but close enough to be included in the game show mayhem, or to ignore it-- as was most the case-- in favor of their own conversations. Anything that Billy didn’t like to eat, or refused to even try on principal of it being visually unappealing, ended up on Teddy’s plate, where it would be eaten without a hint of complaint. Every now and then, Billy would give him the most ridiculous excuse for not liking a particular food item, and Teddy would find amusement in trying to get him to take a bite. The teasing would lift his spirits, especially when he managed to get Billy to laugh hard enough to snort whatever he was drinking.
When the hour grew late and drowsiness set it, the Kaplans took to their beds with a chorus and several rounds of goodnights as one by one the lights were extinguished. But though Billy’s soft ‘Night, Teddy’ and gentle kiss would leave him feeling warm, it still did not manage to plug the gaping whole in his heart that only seemed to grow bigger with each night he went without his mother’s loving words to bless his dreams.
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Teddy reached his breaking point one month after his mother’s death.
The Kaplans had welcomed him into their home with opens arms, deepest sympathies and the best of intentions. Teddy was so thankful for all the support and careful catering to his needs, yet he still could not manage to feel at home. Every night he found himself praying to wake up in his ratty old apartment, to the sound of his mother banging away in the kitchen. Yet instead of getting used to the lack of her presence in his new environment, he felt her absence all the more keenly with each passing day.
The feeling simmered inside his chest as he slept, brewed in the cold silence of his school days, steamed behind the strained smiles he offered his friends, and finally boiled over on this night. He lay in bed, trying to sleep in the too soft bed of the private room he had been granted, when suddenly it felt as if he were going to burst. The bed was trying to swallow him up, the room was too stuffy, or his lungs weren’t working right, and he had to bite his lip hard to keep from making a mess as the bile rose in his throat. He stumbled into the guest bathroom without turning on the lights and fell hard to his knees on the cold tile, emptying his stomach into the toilet bowl.
After many long uncomfortable minutes, he stopped heaving. The cold of the air conditioner kicking in had his skin pimpling with goosebumps. Tremors shook his frame as he brushed his his teeth to get rid of the taste of bile. Looking in the mirror, Teddy scrubbed a rough hand over his face and took a long shuddering breath that did nothing to calm him down.
The rest of the household beyond the door was silent, deep in restful slumber, but Teddy didn’t think he could go back to sleep anymore. Sliding down the wall opposite the sink, he felt his eyes water and finally, he gave in to his tears.
He felt frozen in the moment, stuck like glue. Stuck to the past, unable to let go of the hope that this was one long nightmare and he would wake up soon. Stuck to his anger, furious that the peaceful life of his small family had been ripped away in an instant of conflicting foreign interests. Stuck to the grief searing through his heart with every thought of the woman who had raised him since birth, loved him as a son, been what every mother should be, and died for him without hesitation. Teddy hadn’t even been able to say a proper goodbye . . .
The soft tap on the door startled him out of his misery and he looked up as it creaked open.
“Teddy?” Billy’s voice was groggy and his eyes were still puffy from sleep. He rubbed an arm against the chill of the dark bathroom when he shuffled inside.
Teddy cleared his throat to banish the worst of the tearful rasp in his voice, but it still came out a little too thick, “Go back to bed, Billy.”
Dark brows furrowed slowly, as if it was a considerable effort to process thought at this hour. His frown intensified when he noticed the swollen redness around Teddy’s eyes and he approached on instinct.
“Shit, Ted. Floor’s cold,” he grumbled when his bare feet hit the tile, jolting him into a slightly higher state of consciousness.
“Billy, just go back to bed, please,” Teddy didn’t actually want to be alone, but at the same time he felt so stupid being found in this state of emotional weakness.
“Mn, no. Refuse,” was Billy’s sleepy articulation, easing down next to him to wrap his arms around broad shoulders until he could lean his forehead against Teddy’s temple.
Teddy thinks about complaining again, but his throat was too tight to release any words. So he leans into Billy instead, wrapping a hand around one of Billy’s wrists. Neither spoke for a very long time while Teddy’s breath hitched between silent tears. Teddy didn’t feel like opening up yet, and Billy couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t shallow or useless. When Teddy finally quieted, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed.
Billy shifted a bit, cold feet seeking out Teddy’s warmer ones. His joints were complaining against the unforgiving tile, and the chill in the room was making him shiver. Breaking the silence, his whispered softly, “Want to go back with me?”
Teddy's breath hitched again when he shook his head, his grip tightening on Billy’s wrist, “Not yet. I can’t-- It’s just, I miss her so much . . .”
“Shh, okay, okay. We can stay here as long as you want.”
“Sometimes,” Teddy swallows thickly, but his voice still cracks when he continues, “Sometimes-- I just feel so alone, B . . .”
“Hey, hey-- I’m right here,” Billy drew him closer to nuzzle along his jaw, carting gentle fingers through the hair on the nape of Teddy’s neck as he closed his eyes and breathed a soft sad sigh, “And this is where I’m going to stay, okay?”
Teddy melted into the caress, strong hands tugging at Billy’s waist. Billy didn't offer any more words, just crawled into Teddy’s lap, curling as close as possible. He pillowed his head on the other’s shoulder, letting his fingers continue their soft caresses over Teddy’s neck to soothe him.
The minutes drifted by them uncounted while Teddy just savored the comfort of having Billy so close, his warmth seeping into numbed limbs, heartbeat thumping steadily against his chest, in tune with the rhythm of his own. The reassuring touches slowed little by little, until they stopped all together, idle fingers eventually curling in the collar of his shirt. Teddy glanced down after a bit, only to find Billy had nodded off in his lap, face tucked into the crook of his neck, warm breaths ghosting against his skin.
The small smile that tugged at his lips doesn't feel as quite as painful as he thought it would. In fact, it doesn’t really hurt at all. It just fills him with a tender feeling like a balm, lifting much of the suffocating gloom from his heart.
He knew there would probably be many more nights like this, where he would find himself stuck again, glued fast to his sorrows. But he also thought that it would be alright, because he knew Billy would always be there to help him pick at the glue.
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Fin
~30 Quills Fic Index~