A/N: As stated in the summary, this is a direct outtake from my Allen-centric story, The Narcissist's Unmaking. Chapter four to be exact. Please do give it a try too. Thank you!
- "Silence makes the real conversations between friends. Not the saying, but the never needing to say that counts." ― Margaret Lee Runbeck -
Uncomplicated
- A dog and its master -
When they were younger, people recognized Allen and Rod as a matched set because neither would be seen without the other. With the redhead in the lead, they'd go parading all over the town often playing pretend. If they were pretending to be superheroes, Rod would most certainly be the damsel in distress. Playing doctor? Enter Rod, the bedridden patient. Playing house? Cue Rod in a mommy dress.
And what of Superman, doctor and devoted father? All Allen, without a question.
Which is why Rod's favorite game had always been 'fighter planes' because for once, he wouldn't be lying down or in a dress or both. While Rod was the pilot, Allen would be the guy in the control tower barking orders. It was more his style anyway, explained Allen. Rod had loved playing pilot so much that he kept his goggles atop his head even when Allen had grown tired of it and moved onto another game.
- Pen and paper -
When Allen had learned about the mechanics of Morse code, it sparked a fascination with signals and symbols within him. He had forced Rod to learn it, to no avail. Rod – only seven at the time – could not memorize its alphabet, mixing one letter for the other. And Allen, with the many times he called Rod a 'block head', inadvertently just ended up making Rod cry. Hence, Allen came up with a compromise involving one red flag.
- Bacon and eggs -
A red flag, Allen had explained, is a summoning. Should Allen hang the red flag down his window, Rod was to come over his house; even when the sky had grown dark and people were deep in slumber. Though Rod argued he wouldn't be able to see the flag if it was dark, Allen told him he'd develop night vision soon enough anyway.
So every night, Rod would look at the window next door. He'd spend ten minutes – an eternity for a child – just squinting at it, waiting for his night vision to kick in. Sooner or later, he'd fall asleep by the open window that earned him a scolding from his mama the next morning.
- Light and starlight -
The red flag had made frequent appearances by the summer they turned ten. It happened often during the night of screams and curses in the house next door. Allen had kindly left his lampshade on beside the flag, making it visible even without superpowers.
Now that Rod was taller and more agile, climbing down the pipeline was not as bruising as it once was. He'd brag about it after as he squatted on Allen's windowsill. In turn, Allen would roll his eyes and toss him the first-aid kit before sitting down on the carpet.
After treating any wound, Rod would take his seat beside Allen without a word. Instantly, Allen would begin telling stories. Some of them were ones Rod had heard before, over and over again. The others stories were drawn straight from Allen's imagination; Rod's favorites.
The night air was full of Allen's voice, continuing until the early hours of morning. Miraculously, Allen's voice never broke, never shook and never waivered. Eventually, his voice would lull Rod to sleep; leaving Allen to turn to the stars for company.
Rod's mom had begrudgingly gotten used to her son's disappearances over the years. When day broke and Rod was not in his bed, his mom would march right up to Allen's room. She'd find Allen awake, beside his window, staring at her with tired eyes. There were no words for this broken little boy. She'd pick up snoring Rod on her shoulders and lead her half-asleep son through the door. With a backward glance, she'd take her leave with a sad smile and walk away.
Allen had grown to dislike this woman.
- Hellos and goodbyes -
The first time Rod had seen the ring around Allen's neck was the day his fatherless family moved out of town.
The ring was too thick to be a woman's and too big for Allen's pianist fingers. In spite of that, the ring looked perfect dangling below his collars, swinging and bumping into his chest – right above his heart.
- A dog and its master -
A dog and its master, that's what the two of them were. There were no words more accurate than that. How great it is then for the dog who can rummage around on its own! How liberating it is for the dog who can choose another master if it so wishes to!
And.
How pitiful is the master who is without his only friend!
The End.
A/N: As much as I love writing about the progress of Allen and Rio's relationship, I was super excited to explore the dynamics between Rod and Allen. On the surface, some may perceive their friendship as dysfunctional so it was such a delight coming up with reasons as to why it works.
Now I know that Rod seemed abused in this fic, and to some degree he is but! It makes me love Rod all the more, if that makes sense. Allen, on the other hand, his 'kindness' may not be kindness at all for some but that's how I feel he is so…
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