Simpson fanfic: Smithers at Crisis
Smithers at Crisis- by preety-lady-serenity
Disclaimer: Smithers and Burns, and the whole Simpson Universe, belongs to Matt Groening and FOX. I will continue writing fanfics though.
Synopsis: Mr. Burns was proud of having the most competend assistant a businessman could ever had. Unril one night Smithers saw a person that opened old wounds once more.
Warning: This fic has malexmale love in it and instances of mild violence. Be warned.
Charles Montgomery Burns felt goose bumps as he stepped out of his limousine and into the chillyenvironment. He looked into the limo’s dark surface and fixed his tie once more. He, then, turned towards the open doors of the hotel and stifled a yawn. He was so bored of these kinds of endless gatherings. When he had to pretend to be interested in other people’s lives it made him feel so tired.
“Here,” he heard Smithers saying as he offered their parking valet their valet key. He turned to see the younger man, who looked back at him with determination. Smither was always like that during such gatherings. He had a goal to find him the best deals to sign. So far he had never failed him.
Monty Burns and his assistant entered the hotel and moved to the ballroom where the Charity event was taking place. Mr Burns waited as Smithers looked around, scouting the place for possible associates but then Smiters did something that his boss never expected him to do. He froze and his face appeared to mirror his horror. Monty Burns stared at him and then at the direction he was looking at.
He saw nothing to worry about. There were businessmen standing there chattering but none of them seemed threatening. He grasped Waylon’s forearm and the younger man jerked from the shock of being brought back to reality. He remained motionless and gulped down.
“Waylon is something wrong?” he asked with a voice so soft only the two of them could hear and then hissed, “Try to calm down you dolt!”
The younger man seemed to respond though his eyes did not seem to move away from the direction he was looking at. Monty Burns to focus on where Smithers was looking at but all he could see where men around his assistant’s age. Suddenly Smithers turned to face him with the most strained smile he had ever seen on him.
“I think I need the restroom,” he said quickly and before the older man could respond Waylon had disappeared into the crowd.
Five minutes later it was evident that Waylon did not intend to return from the restroom, something that caused Mr. Burns’ curiosity to arise. Plus he did admit that he felt a pang of worry for his young assistant’s welfare. Well lots of worry to be honest.
He found the hotel’s restroom quite easily and pushed the door with all his might and entered the clean, sterile environment.
“Smithers,” he hissed, making sure no one else was around, “Waylon do you plan to stay here this evening?”
A couple of seconds later the door of the third cubicle opened slightly. Smithers did not come out, nevertheless, and with a sigh of desperation Mr. Burns approached the door. He peeped into the restroom and saw Smithers curled on the floor. The younger man looked a bit dishevelled; his hair was a bit messy and his eyes slightly red. He was shivering a bit but he immediately found the strength to stand up when he saw Mr. Burns’ face.
“Sir, I’m so sorry. I think it was something I ate. I’ll just wash my face and we’ll return back to the ballroom.”
Mr. Burns narrowed his eyes and did something he never expected himself to do in a public place. He entered the cubicle quickly, closed the door and leaned against it.
“You aren’t going anywhere Smithers unless you tell me what had just happened,” he ordered with a tone that would not take any objections into consideration.
“I’m really not in the mood for this,” Smithers answered gruffly and tried to get him move away with no success. Waylon let out a moan of defeat and sat on the toilet seat. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his temple as if he was going through a great ordeal.
“Dammit Monty sometimes I wish you weren’t so stubborn,” he commented but the older man did not respond to this.
Smithers inhaled sharply.
“Monty do you remember me as a child?” he asked suddenly.
“What kind of an idiotic question is that?” Monty Burns almost screeched defensively and a blush spread on his cheeks, “Don’t you change the subject Smithers!”
“I’ m not!” Smithers whispered uneasily, “I just want to know if you remember me from that time.”
“Well,” the older man started, his blush turning a tint darker, “As a matter of fact I do… I kind of thought… ah how do I put this…I thought…well…you .oh what the heck! You were adorable! Here I said it! Are you satisfied now?”
“Wait, no I wasn’t!” Smithers said in amazement, not believing he had just heard that, “I wore glasses and braces and were totally socially awkward.”
“You are still wearing glasses and what do you mean by socially awkward? You were this clever little boy that I used to play chess with when we met!”
Waylon Smithers Jr. sighed in desperation. If this was how Mr. Burns’ thought of him as a child then it was going to be difficult for him to explain.
“Sir,” he spoke so softly it could barely be heard, “do you ever recall me playing with other children? Do you even recall how we met?”
Then it all came back to him.
FLASHBACK
Charles Montgomery Burns walked around the park feeling bored out of his wits. He leaned on a cane he had recently started using as he would occasionally feel painful jolts on his knees when the weather changed. He had no use of it that day but lately he felt more and more unable to go without it. It was as if it was a security blanket for old age. He let out a sigh of defeat. Age seemed to get a hold of him lately. He didn’t even feel like his ruthless self anymore. He had started wondering on what to do with the Plant.
He sat down on a bench and rubbed his knees when he heard a ruckus coming from nearby. He stood up and moved to the direction the noise was coming from. He saw them then. Two large boys were holding a smaller one. The lackey held the little boy into a painful position while the leader punched him hard.
“Come on wuss tell it out loud!”
“Get off me!”
“Not before you say it. Say it! My mother is a wasted drunkard! Say it!”
Mr. Burns watched as the smaller boy struggled and suddenly the little fighter kicked the boy opposite him. The leader and his lackey punched the boy hard causing him to let a strained yelp.
“SAY IT!” the leader shouted menacingly giving him another punch, “MY MOTHER IS A DRUNKARD!”
The fighter spit out a bit and much to Monty’s amazement he looked at the other boy coolly and said softly, “Ok, ok your mother is a wasted drunkard.”
The punch was hard and made the little boy’s glasses fall on the grass.
“Someone is being smart today,” the lackey said and twisted the younger boy’s hand making him let out a cry of pain, “But it is the truth isn’t it dweeb?”
“Yeah when was the last time she asked you how you were?”
The little boy remained transfixed and it was evident the two boys had stricken a chord.
“When was the last time she packed you lunch like our mothers do? Does she even ask you why you come home beaten? How come she never complained to the school?”
Monty Burns gazed as the boy seemed to remain motionless. All his energy seemed to have left him. Strange as it was he usually enjoyed seeing people getting crashed but something seemed to make him root for the little boy. And suddenly, he heard the boy’s name.
“Come on Smithers tell me how your mothers does not give a shit about you.”
Maybe it was the name, maybe it was the memory h could not know for sure. All he knew is that he found himself running towards those boys, shouting menacingly, waving his cane at all directions. The two bullies scattered away immediately leaving the old boy fall on the grass. Monty Burns threw his cane at their direction.
“What’s your name?” he demanded with a snarl, taking the boy by surprise.
“Waylon Smithers sir,” the little boy let out after a few moments of shock, “Thank you for-“
“Hoch poch!” the old man cut him off immediately as he towered over him, his hands on his knees “Come on with me we need to wash your face.”
The boy stood up but did not move towards the old man.
“My mum told me not to talk to strangers,” he commented upon the rule.
“True,” Monty Burns said coolly, “but I happen to know you. Now follow me or you’re walking home alone,” he said and started walking towards the fountains.
END OF FLASHBACK
Monty Burns looked at his assistant in understanding.
“Is someone of your bullies in that ballroom?”
Smithers did not speak. He seemed in agony, as if his body was rejecting something painful from its system.
“It’s Stewart. George Stewart,” he finally spat as if he was about to get sick once more, “He’s one of my bullies from that day. He’s used to bully through Junior High and High School as well. Not only physically because… you know… he knew where to strike a nerve… Oh Shit!”
Tears streamed down his cheeks and Smithers started wiping them away furiously. He took two deep breaths, his gaze hardening. He remained transfixed, clenching his teeth together tightly until he forced his tears to stop. Mr. Burns looked at the younger man in shock as Waylon’s gaze turned to hard and empty.
“Glad to get rid of that,” Waylon finally commented his voice icy, “Sorry about this sir.”
Charles Montgomery Burns did not know what had possessed him to act the way he did, but he immediately grasped Waylon into a hug. The shock caused the younger man to start shivering, though he made no attempt to get out of the man’s arms.
“Monty,” he said, his voice muffled from the hug; a blush spreading on his cheeks.
The older man slowly let go of him though he did not let his shoulders from his hands.
“You do know that she loved you don’t you?” Monty Burns said soothingly causing the younger man to start crying once more.
“No she didn’t,” he said between his sniffle.
“Yes she did,” Monty Burns heard himself saying sternly.
“No She Did Not!” he said sounding bitter and angry, “If she did she would give a damn about me getting beat up every day. She would at least find some strength to cook me a meal every once and awhile. All she ever did was staring into space and burst to tears when she would see me. I DID EVERYTHING ON MY OWN!”
“Dammit Smithers lower your voice will you? We’re still in a public toilet!”
Monty Burns sighed at the younger man’s frustration and anger.
“It amazes me,” he finally said, “that you’re so similar to your mother and yet you fail to understand her.”
“I have nothing in common with her!” Waylon Smithers Jr. spat out so angrily it caused the older man to take a step back in shock, “I have had enough of this conversation,” he exclaimed and tried to reach the cubicle’s door.
“So I guess if I die it won’t affect you that much eh?” Monty Burns reasoned, sounding disappointed.
“Don’t you dare put my emotions in the same level as hers,” Waylon hissed dangerously, looking angrier than ever.
“Oh come on you must believe I am too old to remember and compare you both. You both act like it is the end of the world when you get depressed and you also pin to your feelings on a particular person even though it could destroy you. She adored your father. He was her entire world. Now, if I can remember correctly you said you have been in love with me for twenty years.”
“That is different,” Smithers whispered and averted his gaze.
“No it isn’t”
“This isn’t the point! The point is… The point is…Argh! What do you want from me Monty?”
“I don’t know what I want!” Monty Burns stated sounded emotional, “Maybe, just maybe, I want you to realise that you mean something to her… to me. I am scared Waylon. I’m scared you will go out there and start acting like a jittering fool and I won’t be able to help you. And it will kill me if this happens because if it is one thing I am certain of is that you aren’t a jittering fool”
“Monty you don’t need to worry for me. I won’t fail you,” Waylon said his spirits suddenly rising, “I will never botched it up for you,” he smiled and got out of the cubicle.
Monty Burns looked at him feeling worried and followed him.
-)-)-)
Much to Charles Montgomery Burn’s amazement Smithers faired in an excellent manner for the rest of the evening. He spoke to business associates with such charm and persuasion no one would have ever guessed he had spent the first twenty minutes of their arrival hidden in the men’s toilets, crying and throwing up. The older man would occasionally eye him in concern but the younger man seemed to cope very well.
It was near the end of the event that the Stewart-fellow approached them. He seemed the charming type and had he not known his history Monty Burns would even like him. He seemed to ignore Waylon, nevertheless, something that seemed to cause Smithers some frustration.
“Smithers,” he ordered coolly after some time, “I’m tired. Do ask for my limo. I think I can call it a night.”
Smithers hurried outside and Mr. Burns wondered if he was feeling relieved. Springfield’s Power Plant’s owner waited until his assistant was out of ear-shot and then turned to Stewart will a fake look of amazement.
“By Jove I do recall you now! I chased with you away with my cane when you were nine! You used to bully Smithers and then I chased you away.”
The Stewart-fellow was so taken aback by the sudden drop of façade that he gulped his whiskey down and started coughing. Monty Burns mentally sneered.
“Oh I find it rather ironic don’t you think. Who would have guessed back then that you would want to do business with me? It’s amazing who you’ll need one day. Or who will decide to get revenge.”
“Smithers wouldn’t hurt a fly! He’s too weak for that,” the Stewart-fellow blurted out, showing that he had indeed recognised Smithers from before, “I mean he didn’t even had the guts to confront me!”
“Oh I wouldn’t count on the ‘cannot-harm-a-fly’ thing. Smithers is extremely patient when it comes to settling my old debts. He’s also very skilled when he’s dealing with people that have displeased me. I have trained him good. Revenge, young man, is a dish best served cold. And the coldest it is the most bitter it is. Smithers doesn’t know it yet but he is inheriting the Plant one day. And once he does so who will save you from the most powerful man in Springfield?”
The Stewart-fellow stared at him unable to utter a reply. Mr. Burns turned to his heels with a smirk of satisfaction. Oh how he enjoyed to mess with people’s minds.
-)-)-)
“That was a good evening,” Smithers remarked after a long drive of silence. His voice sounded unsure and a bit tired. They entered the manor and he helped the older man to prepare of sleep. After he tucked him in bed he leaned down and brushed his lips against his for a goodnight kiss.
“Are you going to your place now?” Mr. Burns asked him as the younger man turned to leave.
“Yeah I think I’ll go home,” the younger man replied, “I could do with some sleep.”
“Right,” Monty’s voice sounded almost ironic and then he grasped the man’s jacket and pulled him towards him with all his might.
Waylon found himself lying in the older man’s arms. Monty’s hand held him closer, while the other caressed his cheek. He felt cheeks getting flamed.
“I know you Smithers, more than you think I do. I do what you plan to do doing when you go home. You plan wallowing in self-pity until you get to sleep.”
“That isn’t your problem Monty!” Waylon heard himself squeak. It really amazed him how good Monty could read him.
“Oh but it is my problem. Ever since we kissed and started this relationship you have become my problem. I spent the entire evening getting worried sick about you. But if you would rather go for tonight do get away from me.”
Waylon squirmed trying to set free from the man’s grasp but he just couldn’t do it. He was always powerless when Monty held him so close to his body he could hear his heartbeat.
“Dammit Monty you do know how to push my buttons,” he scoffed with a pout of embarrassment. “All you need to do is to hug me and I can’t leave you.”
“Yes what can I say, you’re a snuggle-addict,” Monty Burns joked, “Good thing you are soft and smell nice.”
“Shut up!” Waylon said in embarrassment, “And don’t you put your hand there!”
“I’ll put my hand wherever I wish to thank you.”
“Old perverted man.”
“Stupid brat!”
Did you like it?
Yes Smithers has mummy issues I know. No she wasn’t an alcoholic. That is why young Smithers is unaffected by the boys’ comments during his bullying. Yet she was severely depressed after his father’s death that she stopped paying attention to him.