Summary: Wes loses it at a Warbler meeting, and with David away for the day, Thad steps in to get to the bottom of it.
Word count: 1787
"Wes!"
"What?!"
"What the hell are you doing?"
"I, uh, what do you mean?"
"Just ease up! Trent, are you okay? I think you can all leave now, Warblers are dismissed for today."
"Hey look I just—"
"Okay Wes, I'm going to ask you again: What. The. Hell. Was. That?"
"….He broke the gavel."
"It's a damn gavel, it's not like it was your arm or your little sister's heart! You really need to chill out. See, this is what happens when David can't make it to a damn meeting, I knew it was a bad idea to let you take control without him being here."
"But Thad, you don't understand! Louise wasn't – isn't! I refuse to accept that she's gone—"
"Hold up! You named the gavel?"
"Yes, Thad, the gavel has a name. Don't give me that look, you named your first damn—"
"OKAY! No need to go there, I get it, her name was-"
"Is!"
"Her name is Louise. That doesn't explain why you tried to strangle poor Trent; you scared him half to death. Heck, I'm still a little worried about what you might do to me."
"Piss off."
"Wow, that's great, now I'm completely convinced that you're fine and everything is normal, thanks for that."
"Thad."
"Mm?"
"I just…overreacted? Don't worry about it, it won't happen again, I'll make it up to the boys and it's all sorted. Done."
"Wes."
"What?!"
"Wes, what's going on?"
"Thad, you really don't need to bother. It's fine, I'm fine, no big deal."
"Ouch."
"What?"
"Yep, no worries man, it's not like I give a shit about what's going on in your life. It's not like I just saved your sorry ass from a mass of confused and angry Warblers. It's not like I voted you as head of council or anything because I trusted you and thought you'd be up to the job. It's not like I trusted you enough to tell you when I was dealing with some tough shit. Not like I'm sitting here when I could be studying for that midterm tomorrow. Nope, none of that matters because why the hell would Wesley Hughes need to talk to Thad Harwood? He's just some random Stuart, not a friend. No problem dude, I'll let myself out."
"Thad!"
"Wes?"
"Can we just not go into detail?"
"We'll see. Start talking."
"You're impossible."
"You tackled a guy for touching a wooden mallet."
"Point taken."
"Continue, this is ever so interesting."
"Well I'm narrowing the reasons behind my current state down to stress from different areas of my life and a lack of sleep."
"Dude."
"Fine, whatever, you win! Get the damn smirk off your face, I know you're a Stuart but you don't have to start grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat too."
"Hey!"
"And one point to the Hare! The crowd goes wild as Windsor's really back in the game!"
"Focus."
"Shit. Well, Katherine's been going in more often and David's been going for more solo visits so the normal anxiety associated to all of that has not been helped by the fact that I'm now really out of the loop. It's just… frustrating. Then there's the normal school stress – seriously, why the hell do I need to take French?! I'm not planning on moving there and if I stop going on our family vacations I can totally stop taking the class, right?"
"Kurt could help you with your French, he's meant to be really good."
"Oh God, then there's all of that! It was hard enough to get Kurt and Blaine together in the first place, now with Logan butting in there's even more drama. We don't need another run like last year…"
"And?"
"And what?"
"I get it, those things are all bothering you but there easy enough to talk about and to work towards fixing, or at least getting help with. Like, have you tried talking to David? I already said you should talk to Kurt about your French, and I can pretty much guarantee that the rest of Windsor will agree with you on the Klaine-plus-Logan issue. Hell, half of Stuart seems to agree."
"Really? Shit."
"Yes, really."
"Well that's…good to know, I guess. Wait, yes I know, keep talking!"
"Oh so you're finally catching on, fantastic."
"Shut it, Thad, seriously. I think I'm sort of paranoid, worrying about Danny and all of the 'what ifs'. He's been having a rough couple of weeks. At least we've been talking, I guess."
"Hey, he looks like he's picking up again this week and Bancroft was walking with him before Warblers practice, it'll be fine. And if you're talking, he knows you're worried and you'd have a better idea of where he's at that I would."
"Can we just keep going?"
"But wait, there's more!"
"Do you actually not know when to stop talking? Don't even think about answering that. It's just…I don't even know anymore. I hate bringing family stuff up when I'm at school because it's a lot easier that way but now it's just confusing. I've been getting phone calls and emails and they're just asking a lot of questions without actually talking to me, it's like they're keeping something from me. What I gathered from the last couple of messages is that they might be moving, but I could be wrong. I don't have any idea where that'll leave me though. It's just really bad timing I think. Actually, it's fucking terrible timing.
"You Hanovers—"
"Windsor!"
"Ex-Hanovers and your secret magnetism. Do you do it on purpose or are riddles, deception and withheld information all drawn to you by some unknown force?"
"Wow, Thad, thanks so much, I'm really glad we had this talk, you've been so helpful."
"Well, have you tried—"
"Yes, I've tried talking to them and no, it hasn't worked so far."
"Keep trying, they'll start to listen eventually."
"Yeah, I know. There are a lot of 'eventuallys' involved in solving my 'problems', aren't there?"
"I suppose you could look at it like that, but that's better than 'nevers', isn't it?"
"…"
"You know where this leaves us, right?"
"No."
"Aw, come on, why did we start talking in the first place? You, Trent, strangulation, the ga—"
"No."
"I'm not leaving 'til it's done."
"Do we really have to go there?"
"Yes, I think we do."
"So what are you now, a counsellor? Psychologist? As a professional in your field, I suppose I should start addressing you appropriately, Mr. Harwood. Unless you have a PhD, in which case I must apologise, Doctor Harwood."
"…"
"Hilarious, I know."
"You're so full of shit sometimes, Wesley, you know that?"
"You love me."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Now, the gavel."
"You know I really hate you, right? And there's nothing to tell."
"Don't. Lie. To. Me."
"You make an awful Alan Rickman."
"We're up to song three-hundred and ninety-four."
"It's possible, I just know that you're not getting a lead any time soon."
"You just…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"…know."
"Are you quite done yet?"
"Wesley, you have your gavel's eyes."
"Oh for shit's sake, Thad!"
"Talk."
"Okay, so everyone knows I overreacted—"
"Really? I had no idea."
"Do you want to listen or not? Like you said before, you can just let yourself out."
"You're right, sorry. Please, continue."
"Well, if you take a look at the handle – well, what used to be the handle – my sisters had all carved something little into it, like hearts and their initials and smileys and stuff. It was mostly for Eva, she wanted something to show her that no matter how far away I am when I'm at school, I'll still have them with me, they'll still have 'control' over some of my thoughts and parts of my life."
"…"
"Thad?"
"That's fucking adorable, remind me to hug your sister if I ever see her."
"Sure, whatever."
"Still not strangle-worthy though…"
"Yeah, no, it's really not. At all. You can remind me to buy Trent a coffee every week until graduation or something, okay?"
"Only if I get one once a month."
"You suck."
"And you can just hear the immature Freshmen chiming whispering from their little huddle: '…dick!'"
"And on that note I'm going to get back to my story, before you start reminiscing about our Freshman year."
"Ooh, good move."
"Well, the gavel's a family heirloom of sorts, I guess. Only been around for a couple of generations but it's been all over the place."
"Oh."
"See? Anyway, my parents gave it to me with some papers and stuff just before we started Sophomore year, but both of them admitted that I should have gotten it years before. Typical parental hindsight, just being a bitch in the moment."
"So, Louise?"
"Yeah, that was Eva again."
"I should've known. So, it was your dad's?"
"Not really. He held onto it for a little while, but it was never really his. It just…it belonged to someone who, in a 'perfect' world, would have been a big part of my life but in reality I never got a chance to know. Louise is sort of my missing link, I guess."
"Well."
"Mm?"
"…"
"What?"
"That's, uh, well you were still a dick, but after hearing all of the evidence I've concluded that you've been under a bit of personal pressure and were bound to snap eventually."
"I love the support, thanks so much."
"What? School, family, friends; we all know it's stressful. The fact that the gav-Louise is of such personal significance kind of explains everything. Stress plus more stress plus a personal trigger is bound to result in a bit of an emotional explosion."
"…you almost sounded—"
"Good luck explaining your Logan-esque fit to everyone else though."
"And I was just going to say you were being sensitive and almost smart. Ha!"
"So are you still up for buying Trent those coffees? Or, as head of the council, are you just going to give some fancy speech at the next Warbler meeting? Maybe sing an apology to him?"
"Probably all three. Hey, uh, thanks for…yeah."
"Anytime, seriously. Even if David is around."
"Oh shit, he's going to have to hear about what happened, isn't he? Wow, fun night."
"Is this the part where I wish you good luck and tell you that I'm here for you if you need me, then pull you into a supportive bro-hug?"
"What?"
"Isn't that what you and David do all the time?"
"You mock us, sir!"
"Oh, how original. Honestly Wes, untapped comedic potential just radiates from you. Please, teach me your ways."
"You know the gavel's still intact enough to inflict pain, right?"