Hello everyone!
This is a small ficlet about Rodrick's and Greg's relationship. I saw "Rodrick Rules" and well, I got inspired.
I wanted to write a small exploration ficlet about the relationship about Rodrick and Greg, but when they're older. In this story, Greg's around fifteen, Rodrick about eighteenish. Also, I wanted to explore the protective side of Rodrick as an older brother, which isn't really explored in the movies. Beforehand, I wrote a slightly longer than intended flashback on their younger years.
ALSO, I haven't read the books, sorry. I only know the movies. So if there are any mistakes, please excuse me.
Okay, now to the usual rant:
Disclaimer: Since I'm not rich, the "Diary of a wimpy Kid series" aren't mine. Only this idea and what came of it is mine. And a boy named Jason Reilly.
Warnings: Slight violence, some bruises and the language of one protective older brother. And if you were ever bullied, this might contain some triggers.
Rating: M – Even if the subject of bullying isn't really explored, there's still some heavy words.
Summary: Rodrick isn't what you would call a role-model brother. In fact, one of his favorite past-times is to antagonize his little brother. But, that's the catch. He's the only one allowed.
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Rodrick remembered the day Greg hat been born quite lively. He might not remember the whole ordeal, for which he's kinda glad (after all, he'd only been three years old). But what he does remember is the tiny, little bundle in his mothers arms, face screwed up and very very red. Frankly, he had found it disgusting and he hadn't understood what the big deal was anyways.
Even when his mother had handed him that pink bundle and had said: "That's Greg, your little brother. You need to watch after him, he'll need you," he didn't really understand.
But what he did understand was that that warm, comforting weight huddled in his arms was so utterly helpless, that he felt for the first time responsible for someone else (his hamster Clarky didn't count.)
And as trusting, cerulean eyes looked into his, he realized that he was completely devoted to this tiny creature.
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"Greg," he had mumbled, and the baby – his brother – had gurgled happily in response.
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...
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It wasn't until they were older, when he had learned that little brothers are a pest. And, oh dear, had he learned.
There had been this girl in 2nd grade he had a crush on, Molly Waters. She was pretty, shy and had the probably cutest freckles he'd ever seen. Of course, confessing was not happening as in, ever, but that didn't stop his mother from gushing how "adorable" it was and "Frank, isn't that the cutest thing you've ever heard?".
Unfortunately for him, Greg had heard it all, and being the blabbermouth he was – which no, Rodrick hadn't found cute up to this point at all – he spilled the beans to Molly faster than Rodrick could even blink. Of course, this had to be at his freaking birthday party, where the whole 2nd grade was attending.
Never, never never, had he been so embarrassed and angry in his whole young life.
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When Greg found a dead snake next to his head right after he woke up the following day, he didn't know this was only a small taste of what would come the following years.
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The next few years, Rodrick made sure that he made his brothers life a living hell in every way possible. There was barely a day that passed without him antagonizing that wimpy twerp.
Things got very bad when Greg had just entered 7th grade, very quickly. It was probably the first and only time in their rocky relationship that he wished he could hate his brother. After they just had started to got along better, he found out that his little brother had indeed tattled on him, and he didn't just got grounded, no, his parents even forbid him to go to the local talent show, something he had been working for for months. He had been devastated beyond comprehension.
In hindsight, he has to admit that uttering the words "You'll always be my brother – but you'll never be my friend," had been cruel, even for him. He still winces sometimes when he thinks about it. The worst part is that Greg hadn't really been the one to blame, or at least only partly.
And the most astounding thing had come out of it. He would never have expected that Greg would have been so selfless, to completely humiliate himself in front of his friends and his crush at that time – for him.
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That single act of selflessness and the simple uttered "thank you" on his part had managed to repair and dampen years of animosity and resentment in a matter of moments.
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The following years presented a heavy improvement of their behavior towards each other. Yes, he still annoyed his little brother whenever he could, but it was a lot more harmless that before. He had also learned to trust his brother, which would now rather keep watch on Manny a whole month before ever ratting him out again – he had learned from the whole ordeal in 7th grade.
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The newly gained brotherly awareness was probably the only thing that had stood between Greg and his mental and physical health.
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Rodrick wasn't happy. No, in fact, he was very very unhappy. For days, weeks even, his baby brother had been sullen and really introverted. He had barely even reacted as Rodrick had dished out one of his meaner insults (which got him grounded – joy.). And since he was pretty sure he wasn't the reason his little brother looked so miserable, he wasn't down with that.
Whenever he talked to, teased or annoyed his kid brother, and all he would get was a shrug, a roll of the eyes or even a flinch when he touched him.
Goddamn it, he had even spit in every pair of socks his brother possessed and the only fucking reaction Rodrick got was a half-assed glare and a slamming door.
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Oh, he was getting to the bottom of this.
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Greg had either murdered someone or... he had murdered someone. That was the only explanation Rodrick could think of explaining why wimpy kid had been so jumpy the past two weeks.
When he told Greg his theory, even with the (in his eyes) supportive words "Did you bury the bodies? I'll help ya if you didn't. Does anyone suspect? Don't worry, no one will find out," he was met with a incredulous stare and a muttered "moron".
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It wasn't until he discovered a incredibly ugly, hand shaped bruise on Gregs arm that he came up with the thought that his brother was being harassed.
When he cornered him one evening in his bedroom he got fierce denial and a literal kick out of said room. When he tried to get in by force, he was grounded – again.
Greg avoided him after that, which only fueled his suspicion.
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Now, he only had to confirm his theory.
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Rowley was so easy to threaten and scare, it wasn't even funny, Rodrick marveled. The information which Greg had been withholding with surprising steel for a month now had been tickled out of Rowley in mere seconds.
So, this was what Rodrick had come to know: Senior, bulky, at least as tall as Rodrick himself, resident schoolbully; goes by the name Jason Reilly. Apparently, he had been looking for a new kid to bully and Greg seemed to have just walked by at the wrong time.
This had been going on for a month. A whole. Fucking. MONTH.
Rodrick was seething. No, really, he had never been more furious in his entire than he was right now. And he was feeling hurt, too. Hurt, because his little brother hadn't come to him for help. But then again he understood. His brother wasn't eleven years old anymore, crying for his mummy.
It still hurt.
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No, Rodrick would handle this personally.
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He felt like a damn ninja. He had been shadowing his brother whenever he could afford, thankfully without Greg noticing. He was watching not only him, but that Reilly kid too. Waiting for his next move.
He didn't have to wait that long. Greg was walking home with his friends, and Rodrick followed in a safe distance. When the last of his peers left in another direction, Rodrick wasn't the only one following Greg anymore. He gritted his teeth.
He waited, long enough that that son of a bitch got his meaty hands on his baby brother, before Rodrick sprinted up to the pair, pulled that bastard off his younger brother and threw him to the ground. Hard.
Then he turned to his brother. "You alright?"
Big blue eyes stared up to him. Rodrick felt a familiar pull in his chest. Greg jerked his head.
"Then why the fuck didn't you tell what the hell was going on? Damn it, what the fucking fuck were you thinking!" A tiny voice in his head told him he sounded like his mother when she was in mother-hen mode. He told the voice to shove it.
"I-I..."
"Yes, damn straight, you weren't. Did you think I'd laugh at you? That I'd call you a wimp and a momma's boy? Did-"
"YES! Yes, okay? You always tell me I need to grow me some man-balls and handle my life! What was I supposed to do? To tell Mom?"
Rodrick blinked. There was that tight feeling in his chest again. He didn't like it. "You- you really think I'd do that?" He gripped at Greg's shoulders. "Kiddo, I'd-"
"Rodrick, watch out!" his brother screamed. Too late.
The blow to his head left him dazzled. How did he not notice that asshole coming at him? The whole world was spinning, blurring around the edges. He blinked. Once, twice. Then it got clear again.
Only in time to see a brawny fist come down on his brothers face.
Rodrick snapped.
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He'd never moved so fast in his life, and he doubted he would ever again. His right hand hurt like a bitch and his head pounded a heavy drum solo. But damnit, this motherfucking jackass would never touch his brother again, he would make sure of it.
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Greg was oddly silent as he helped Rodrick home. Greg had come off the hook lightly, only sporting a rather nasty black eye, which was swelling quickly. Rodrick, on the other hand, not so much. Apart from the ugly blow to the head his knuckles were a bruised mass and he was limping slightly. However, he looked satisfied.
"Do you think we should've just left him there?" Greg asked eventually.
Rodrick's lips formed a thin line. "Someone will find him eventually," he answered grimly.
"But-" a quick glare was all it took to shut his younger brother up. They continued the walk in terse silence.
"What should we tell mom?" his little brother broke the silence again.
"We tried to save a cat and fell off a tree,"
"... That's the dumbest thing I heard you say all year." came the reply helpfully.
"Well, genius, think of something better, because that's the only thing I can come up with."
Greg hadn't, so he decided to just go with it.
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Of course, their parents didn't buy it. At all. And since they were stubbornly quiet, they were heavily grounded for two months. No visitors, no band practice, no TV and no computergames. Joy.
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They never talked about it. Guy rules. The only time they almost did, was when Greg caught Rodrick standing at the feet of his bed at 2am in the morning, simply watching him. Before Greg had even opened his mouth to ask, Rodrick had fled the room. It never happened again.
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Then one day Greg came home from school (which was bearable again, since Reilly fled whenever Greg was near), to find his father cornering Rodrick, who was looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but here.
"- you'll be grounded 'till your old and grey!" he heard his father yell just him time. Greg hid between a niche before they spotted him.
"Dad, look, all we did was trying to save that kit-"
"Rodrick."
There was a thundering silence. Greg heard his father sigh before he continued. "Look, all I know is that you two come home bruised, you even had a slight concussion!, and then the next day there is an article in the local paper about a kid beaten up and left in the street only to be found by an old lady. I just know you had something to do with it."
Rodrick stared at his father defiantly.
"Rod-"
"Fuck, what was I supposed to do! He beat up my kid brother, mine, and thinks he can get away with it. Dad, Greg had freaking handshaped bruises all over his arms! Ground me all you want for the rest of my life, but the only thing I'm sorry about is that that fucker can already walk again!"
Rodrick's eyes widened comically "Oh, shit, Dad, no, forget what-"
"Rodrick, I will forget what you just told me and tell your mother that you were being as stubborn as ever. And if I ever hear you using such foul language in my house again, I'll throw away your drum set."
Rodrick forgot how to breathe. His dad was letting him off the hook just like that? He made a run for it but Frank called him out one more time.
He turned around, already anticipating the worst.
However, his father gave him a weak, but approving smile, "Well done. Now shoo."
Rodrick didn't need to be told twice.
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Rodrick isn't what you would call a role-model brother. In fact, one of his favorite past-times is to antagonize his little brother. But, that's the catch. He's the only one allowed.
Greg's okay with that.