Jonathan put his hands on Crowley's shoulders and then leaned forward with playful menace. "You keep yelling and I'll take your glasses, eh? Be a good lad."
"I am older than a look though, he's very right." Bill pointed out, just so Barty knew she was available and of age.
"Great stuff." Jonathan moved from the couch and gestured for Barty to follow him to the kitchen. "Let me grab a drink and we can get into it. Just need something to wake me up." Which was either whiskey or coffee. He'd decide when he got in there.
"That's a shame, I only like jailbait." Barty said it drily and then followed behind Jonathan, leaving Crowley to laugh while holding on to his glasses.
He stepped into the kitchen behind Jonathan, pulling the door shut and leaning against the wall. This situation was uncomfortable. Emotional, which he did not care for, and bringing up memories he'd rather not engage with. "My brother reached out to me. The youngest. He sent a text."
"Oh, one of the siblings reached out. Seems ... strange. Maybe it's one of them pretending to be the youngest. You said you always liked the youngest. With the weird name I forgot." He just knew that Barty had an unholy amount of siblings and cousins because of his weird mormon chaos childhood.
"I didn't think they were allowed technology."
Jonathan put the coffee machine on and made himself a drink, leaning against the counter as he looked at Barty. "Maybe they want you back."
"Could be that. I asked him some question to verify and he had the knowledge. But they could have made him give them the information needed." They were good at that kind of stuff and Aziraphale was soft. Had been soft, anyway. Always so soft and always so bright and happy. There was guilt over leaving him behind, irrational as that might be.
"He wants me to come see him on Saturday. He mentioned the house next door too. He mentioned food. If it was him, he was telling me about abuse. In a coded way."
"Ah. Fuck. So you wanna go their Saturday and check the place out? Cause that's probably a shit idea." Jon just informed him as he drank some of his coffee and considered the situation. If it was his brother, it wouldn't matter if it was a shit idea, he'd go to make sure they were fine. Even fucking Alfie and he was never fine.
Jon considered it for a moment and then looked at Barty. "Fancy a get away driver then or what?"
"I reckon that wouldn't be the worst idea." Barty shrugged, unsure what he was really expecting. "Better to have a witness too." One that was on his side, especially. "Aziraphale is-- Well, I haven't seen him in a long time. But he was a bit like your Tommy. Quiet, gentle, sweet."
A lot sweeter and more innocent than Tommy, due to reasons of being entirely sheltered, but still. "And I think there are others he wants me to help out, going by what he's said. It could likely become a legal mess. Maybe I can just call a cop I know, make it more difficult for them to get away with it. They are good at the pretence. Really good."
Barty shook his head. "Your people are more straight-forward. Bruised faces, broken bottles, the whole show. No effort to hide the abuse. My people are..." He trailed off for a moment, frowning as he thought about these things that he normally disengaged from as much as he could. "We were coached on what to say. And how to behave. And if we ever saw something messed up, we looked the other way. You just accept it. If you saw a kid standing around with duct tape on their mouth, you knew to avoid them. They had to be bad."
"Religion is a special kind of hell, isn't it? I don't know if a cop will see it. Or if they can even fucking breach it. You can call a cop, if you know a good cop, a cop willing to care, but I'll come anyway. Back up, like you say. Someone on your side." Jonathan didn't trust the cops to do their job. They were lazy and had little power over culture and religion. Even when it was used as a tool to torment with.
"If your brother really wants you to do something then... maybe he's not looking the other way. People who are quiet and sweet, they have a strong sense of justice. I see it in our Tommy and our Holden. They're nice but they hurt for others." And if his brother still had that, he couldn't have been too ruined by assholes.
"We want to approach this carefully. Kids are involved."
"Aziraphale's still a kid. He's got to be... Fifteen. Sixteen, maybe. They never listen to kids. It's the parents' role to bring their kid up in a godly way, no matter that it takes." It was so easy to remember all that doctrine, all that stuff Barty had tried not to think about for such a long time. "If I can get any evidence and I can get a case together, then I can try setting my boss on it."
Just had to be sensational enough to draw Tally in. "But there might not be enough evidence. I don't know. I'll do what I can. I always felt as if I should have taken Aziraphale with me."
There had been no way, reasonably he knew that. But still. "He was always so cheerful. He liked reading, he liked life and he-- I mean, he's definitely gay." Sometimes it was just obvious.
"Oh, I'm not even shocked. You can peg it from a mile off. You look at a kid sometimes and you think 'rough life ahead'." Jonathan had that with Tommy when they got back from the doctor's with a list of allergies and illnesses. He suspected that boy was gay, on top of sickly and a nerd. "Some kids are just dealt a rough hand. Like everyone living here, I suppose."
Jon finished his coffee and put the cup on the sink, throwing his hands out. "Let's get evidence on the Mormons and destroy them. Or, you know, at least cause them a shit ton of problems."
"I'll call Sam if it comes to that. He's a good cop." They had a lot of questionable history together otherwise, but Sam was indubitably a good cop. Barty ran a hand through his hair and then checked his watch. Damn. Time to pick up Tally's lunch or he'd not have a happy boss today. "Are you going out tonight? I know I need to let out some steam."
Nerves, anxiety, whatever else he didn't really want to engage with. He needed to find himself someone he wanted to get off with. "Are you meeting Ed?"
"We'll see. He's in a weird mood with me, which means he'll either stalk me all night or avoid me. It's always fun to gamble on Ed." Jon joked with a smirk and then slapped Barty on the arm, guiding him along through the house. When you escape the boss, come here and we'll make plans to go somewhere."
He walked through to the hall and noticed both teens were not so subtly watching them. They were so bad at being covert. "You want pub or club?"
"Let's do club. I don't need to hear myself think today." Besides, there were more people at the club. Less risk of having already gone through a lot of them. He rubbed his face and then glanced over at Crowley and Bill, amused more than anything. "You'll never stop raising kids, will you?"
It was kind of entertaining. "True family man you are."
"Fuck off and get your boss lunch, you useless sod." Jonathan said as he shoved Barty away and then came over to the couch, wrapping an arm around Crowley's neck because he could. And Crowley wasn't a girl he didn't know well so it was fair game. "You fucking rubbernecking all the bleeding time, you pain in the arse."
"We can't help you, you talk too loud!" Bill whined as she pouted at Jon, even if she knew it was all in jest. "Holden! Jon is being mean!"
"It ain't our fault if you have hot friends," Crowley said reasonably, grinning and shrugging his shoulders, "It's natural curiosity. Just asking some questions. You can't blame us for that."
"Depends on the questions," Holden reasoned as he came in from the hallway, having been in Tommy's room to help with his homework. "What do you want for lunch, Jon?"
"We could order," Crowley suggested.
"Right. Someone thinks we're rich." Holden laughed, looking at Bill. "You're staying for lunch, right?"
"I guess. I might stick around for an hour or so." Bill debated as Jon let go of Crowley. Bill instantly took a hold of Crowley's hand, because she liked holding hands and being with Crowley. He was her safe space, especially after her last break up. "Me and Crowley have to discuss things." Like hot lawyers.
Jon crossed his arms and huffed. "Eating all our bloody food. At his age, I had a job. I sold horses. I should get you a bloody horse to train." He turned to Holden and shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Sandwich works for me. You?"
"Tommy can't have gluten." Bill wisely remembered with a smirk. "Or anything else fun."
"I dunno, Jonny. From what I've heard that wasn't how you made most of your money back in the day-- ow!" Crowley rubbed the back of his head after Holden had - very lightly - slapped it, pouting as he pulled Bill into his arms.
"Legal jobs only or you'll see me fret." Holden was setting up the boundaries. "We can have sandwiches, I'll make some chips on the side." Make, take them out of the freezer, whatever. "And you can have gluten free bread in a moment, Bill, if you don't stop teasing."
He was protective of Tommy. Still. "You can stay as long as you want. Just let me know if you stay overnight, so we can figure out dinner and where you'll sleep." She couldn't just sleep in Crowley's room.
"Maybe I will. I don't have anywhere else to go tonight." Literally. It was here or go find a guy to go home with. She lazily stretched out and lay so her head was in Crowley's lap. "A sleepover could be fun. We can watch movies."
"Not in the same bloody room, they won't." Jon muttered under his breath as he headed back towards the kitchen. He was not having a baby in this house. Not again. It was bad enough before with Tommy. He had trauma.
Bill looked at Holden and smiled. "Are you sure I could? Stay, I mean. If ain't a bother, is it?"
"Nah, it ain't a bother. I'll make up the couch for you later. If you sleep in the same room, our Jon's gonna castrate Crowley first." Which was quite reasonable, Holden felt, especially with the way it made Crowley laugh. Little shit indeed. "You're always welcome here, Bill."
Holden said it with a smile and Crowley was hit with the sincerity of it. Holden always did that. He was genuine and sincere and he was just nice. It felt oddly warm and nice in a way that was almost uncomfortable, because in his experience people really weren't that way.
"Sod off already," he muttered, as he adjusted his glasses, "Tommy needs his gluten-free bread."
"Your boyfriend is a brat," Holden told Bill, before he turned to head towards the kitchen.
"I love that they think I'm your girlfriend. All boys are dumb. Even smart, nice boys are dumb." Then again, maybe Holden wasn't dumb and they were just trolling him. Equally as likely. She smiled playfully in the direction of the kitchen before reaching up to stroke Crowley's face. "You're not my boyfriend, you're just my hero."
Crowley defended her from bad men and helped her out whenever things were bad. They were best friends, almost siblings, and she knew she could always rely on Crowley.
"So, tell me, how hot was Barty in those pinstripe pants?"
"Extremely hot." Objectively speaking. Crowley considered it as he thought back to it. "Y'know, I'd not want to study that long, but wearing suits every day is one reason to become a lawyer." Hard to decide whether he wanted to crush on Barty or be like him. There was something to that style and the kind of coolness he exuded. Crowley practised it in the mirror sometimes. "He totally flirted with you though. Shame, I thought he was gay."
Bill raised her arms and laughed. It seemed like a silly fantasy, she knew that, but perhaps their was hope for her and Barty yet. Their ship name was Ball. She found that very funny.
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thearrangement2024-04-14 04:49 pm
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"Bill is twenty-five!" Crowley was exaggerating grossly, but there. Not just a teen. He was wingmanning.
Barty rolled his eyes and stepped forward, gesturing to Jonathan. "Maybe we can have some privacy?" Not that the audience wasn't entertaining.
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"I am older than a look though, he's very right." Bill pointed out, just so Barty knew she was available and of age.
"Great stuff." Jonathan moved from the couch and gestured for Barty to follow him to the kitchen. "Let me grab a drink and we can get into it. Just need something to wake me up." Which was either whiskey or coffee. He'd decide when he got in there.
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He stepped into the kitchen behind Jonathan, pulling the door shut and leaning against the wall. This situation was uncomfortable. Emotional, which he did not care for, and bringing up memories he'd rather not engage with. "My brother reached out to me. The youngest. He sent a text."
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"I didn't think they were allowed technology."
Jonathan put the coffee machine on and made himself a drink, leaning against the counter as he looked at Barty. "Maybe they want you back."
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"He wants me to come see him on Saturday. He mentioned the house next door too. He mentioned food. If it was him, he was telling me about abuse. In a coded way."
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Jon considered it for a moment and then looked at Barty. "Fancy a get away driver then or what?"
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A lot sweeter and more innocent than Tommy, due to reasons of being entirely sheltered, but still. "And I think there are others he wants me to help out, going by what he's said. It could likely become a legal mess. Maybe I can just call a cop I know, make it more difficult for them to get away with it. They are good at the pretence. Really good."
Barty shook his head. "Your people are more straight-forward. Bruised faces, broken bottles, the whole show. No effort to hide the abuse. My people are..." He trailed off for a moment, frowning as he thought about these things that he normally disengaged from as much as he could. "We were coached on what to say. And how to behave. And if we ever saw something messed up, we looked the other way. You just accept it. If you saw a kid standing around with duct tape on their mouth, you knew to avoid them. They had to be bad."
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"If your brother really wants you to do something then... maybe he's not looking the other way. People who are quiet and sweet, they have a strong sense of justice. I see it in our Tommy and our Holden. They're nice but they hurt for others." And if his brother still had that, he couldn't have been too ruined by assholes.
"We want to approach this carefully. Kids are involved."
no subject
Just had to be sensational enough to draw Tally in. "But there might not be enough evidence. I don't know. I'll do what I can. I always felt as if I should have taken Aziraphale with me."
There had been no way, reasonably he knew that. But still. "He was always so cheerful. He liked reading, he liked life and he-- I mean, he's definitely gay." Sometimes it was just obvious.
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Jon finished his coffee and put the cup on the sink, throwing his hands out. "Let's get evidence on the Mormons and destroy them. Or, you know, at least cause them a shit ton of problems."
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Nerves, anxiety, whatever else he didn't really want to engage with. He needed to find himself someone he wanted to get off with. "Are you meeting Ed?"
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He walked through to the hall and noticed both teens were not so subtly watching them. They were so bad at being covert. "You want pub or club?"
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It was kind of entertaining. "True family man you are."
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"We can't help you, you talk too loud!" Bill whined as she pouted at Jon, even if she knew it was all in jest. "Holden! Jon is being mean!"
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"Depends on the questions," Holden reasoned as he came in from the hallway, having been in Tommy's room to help with his homework. "What do you want for lunch, Jon?"
"We could order," Crowley suggested.
"Right. Someone thinks we're rich." Holden laughed, looking at Bill. "You're staying for lunch, right?"
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Jon crossed his arms and huffed. "Eating all our bloody food. At his age, I had a job. I sold horses. I should get you a bloody horse to train." He turned to Holden and shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Sandwich works for me. You?"
"Tommy can't have gluten." Bill wisely remembered with a smirk. "Or anything else fun."
"We have gluten free bread, smart arse."
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"Legal jobs only or you'll see me fret." Holden was setting up the boundaries. "We can have sandwiches, I'll make some chips on the side." Make, take them out of the freezer, whatever. "And you can have gluten free bread in a moment, Bill, if you don't stop teasing."
He was protective of Tommy. Still. "You can stay as long as you want. Just let me know if you stay overnight, so we can figure out dinner and where you'll sleep." She couldn't just sleep in Crowley's room.
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"Not in the same bloody room, they won't." Jon muttered under his breath as he headed back towards the kitchen. He was not having a baby in this house. Not again. It was bad enough before with Tommy. He had trauma.
Bill looked at Holden and smiled. "Are you sure I could? Stay, I mean. If ain't a bother, is it?"
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Holden said it with a smile and Crowley was hit with the sincerity of it. Holden always did that. He was genuine and sincere and he was just nice. It felt oddly warm and nice in a way that was almost uncomfortable, because in his experience people really weren't that way.
"Sod off already," he muttered, as he adjusted his glasses, "Tommy needs his gluten-free bread."
"Your boyfriend is a brat," Holden told Bill, before he turned to head towards the kitchen.
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Crowley defended her from bad men and helped her out whenever things were bad. They were best friends, almost siblings, and she knew she could always rely on Crowley.
"So, tell me, how hot was Barty in those pinstripe pants?"
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He supposed Jon and him really did not shag.
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Bill raised her arms and laughed. It seemed like a silly fantasy, she knew that, but perhaps their was hope for her and Barty yet. Their ship name was Ball. She found that very funny.