"Boiling Point"
Characters: Tyra, Tim
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations created/owned by NBC Universal, Peter Berg, Jason Katims, Brian Grazer, etc. No harm intended.
Setting: Season 2. Tim and Billy have a major falling out over the neighbor Jackie; Tim runs off (this is all shortly after he returns from Mexico). He shows up at Tyra's and she reluctantly lets him crash at their house for a few days. Tyra is struggling with the guilt of disposing the body of her attempted rapist after Landry killed him (accidentally). This is what COULD HAVE happened at the Collette's.
A/N: Another one from the past…originally posted Nov. 25, 2007 as a two-parter. Revised and posted as one fic.
I love exploring the dynamics of this relationship, the truth that I see and how it influences how they interact. In this fic, Tyra knows she can't keep Tim around the house because he will see through her charade, and Tim needs comfort after being so wronged by Billy. Hmm sounds like the Perfect Storm to me! So of course they find each other for solace, friendship…I see these two as always being there for each other, no matter what. That's what I'm trying to bring to life in this little piece. Enjoy!
Damn him. It was just like him to waltz in here now and just cause everything to hit the boiling point and spill over. This was such bad timing (as usual with him).
She bit her lip, rolled her eyes and wished she could make this whole situation permanently go away.
Owwww! Oh God. NO.
Her stomach was acting up again. She felt like her stomach lining was being eaten up and ripped out by something that had been rotting inside of her. It started after that god-awful night. Even the barest hint of it dragged her down so fast into an emotional abyss that she physically could become sick. It happened most at that moment between falling completely asleep and being barely awake. Antacids didn't help and it was getting worse.
Sometimes she didn't think she could go on. She was getting so tired, so tired of always pretending. It took a lot of energy to hide this secret. But she was doing it. She was studying and making decent grades and of course, still waiting tables and earning crappy tips at the Bee. But Tyra was getting increasingly tired of always having to hide everything all the time. Couldn't she just relax and let everything fall apart for a change rather than being the one to hold it all together? And then there was Landry. Plus Julie was still moping about her mistake with Matt. Nothing was going right.
She was trying so hard to just take each day one at a time. But each day got harder. Her stomach pitched and rolled unbearably when she thought about Mr. Clarke coming by her house the other day. She felt tears well up. She sure was a dangerous one all right. All fathers should warn their sons to stay clear of her. She never thought she'd forget the look on Landry's face.
Her stomach gurgled uncomfortably and she grimaced.
And then, right on schedule, Tim showed up. Of all the things she didn't need just then! But, as always, there was no turning him away. She knew Tim well enough to know that he wouldn't have shown up at her door, unless he had nowhere else to go. And unless she made sure of it, she could count on having a new roommate. He would stay as long as she let him. And having her ex-boyfriend as a roommate just wasn't even remotely appealing to her. Not one bit. She didn't need to put up with Tim's bullshit right now. She had enough going on.
"You've got 48 hours Tim. And don't even dream about coming into my room." She warned him. And she meant it.
And with that, she stepped aside as he came into the living room. She went into her room and shut the door, plugged in her iPod and stretched across her bed. She was exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, physically… worn out. She couldn't take one more thing.
Tim knocked lightly on her door. He slowly cracked it open when she didn't answer, and licked his lips lightly when his gaze fell upon her sleeping body. He felt his breath catch in his throat as his eyes skimmed over her long sleek legs in those tight little shorts. Her tank top had ridden up to bare her midriff, and he could see that little birthmark that winked at him from the planes of her abdomen. He loved that little mark. He grinned. And just below it where the skin stretched across her pelvic bone, was where she was really ticklish. He smiled before he could stop himself.
His mouth dried up and he decided he should leave. She looked so peaceful, so inviting and warm. He couldn't help it, he pushed open the door slowly to let himself in. He gently leaned up against the doorjamb and let his gaze linger. She was so god damned beautiful, it hurt. He caught his breath and was caught up in the familiarity of her room and the overpowering intimacy of seeing her sleep. He winced to think of how good she'd felt, the last time they'd been together.
He cursed himself for probably the hundredth time. He'd really fucked things up between them and he knew it. But he was pretty sure it wasn't beyond being salvaged. Someday. He knew that, with the same sure certainty that he just had about a few things. He wasn't sure how or why he knew, but he knew. Just like he knew she'd let him stay when he'd showed up on her front doorstep, bags in hand.
But he was worried about her too. He knew that if she was still sore at him, she had every right to be and that he deserved it. But this was different. She wasn't being herself, and something told him that it had nothing to do with him.
Something darker was hanging over her. She was so sharp, and slow to smile, and she hardly ever laughed. Two of the qualities that he'd most missed about her, her smile and her laughter. She'd been slowly suffocating before his eyes and he'd finally noticed it.
He'd been so focused on the team, and then on Jay…Besides, did Tyra Collette need looking after? Hell no. If there was anyone that could take of themselves, it was his ex-girlfriend. He'd always admired that about her. Plus, he'd heard she'd been spending a lot of time with Lance. He'd been replaced. She didn't need him.
But he wasn't so sure about that. He closed his eyes to keep from reaching out to stroke her soft hair, when all he wanted to do was hold on to her, take her like he'd done so many times before. They'd never failed each other, not there, not once ever. He held on to that, he needed to. Sometimes, he needed and wanted her still.
His mind reeled as tiny clips and snapshots of their past streamed through his consciousness and he was suddenly hit full force with the realization of what he'd given up when he'd chosen to give in to Lyla Garrity.
He startled. The sharpness in her tone snapped him awake.
"Tim. For the love of God. Please get out of my room."
What was he doing in here? He'd promised, had he not, not to bother her?
He left and closed the door behind him. She fell back into her bed and closed her eyes, and wished again that all this would just go away.
But no. Instead, she had Tim Riggins looming over her, just lurking and waiting for her to crumple up and give over to him.
She'd been holding it together. Even with Landry earlier that week, when he'd caught her in the hall to tell her that he and his dad had destroyed his car, the evidence. And god help her, but she just wanted him to go away. She'd been calm then, and she'd be calm now. She just wanted all of that to just go away, and go back to the way things were. But she'd listened, and nodded sympathetically. Landry needed her too. He had no one else to talk to. And he really cared.
But having Tim stay at their house could just be the straw that broke the camel's back. She was sure of it, later that day when she'd seen what she'd walked in on. She'd come home from work to find her sister Mindy draped all over Tim, half-naked on the loveseat of all places, watching TV.
She'd stood before them, hand on one hip, and cleared her throat, and then had told him in no uncertain tone that if he slept with her sister, then that was it. Then she reminded him he had only 24 hours to find another place to stay.
She stretched back out across her bed and plugged in her iPod. After she'd calmed down, she admitted it to herself, that yes, Tim Riggins was her breaking point. She didn't need to ask herself why. Only 24 more hours though, and then he'd be gone, and she could go back to faking it. Faking all of it.
Tim wished the couch could just absorb him so he could become a part of it. Instead he had his ex-girlfriend standing over him, holding a glass of damn cold water. He sighed and shifted to his side to stare up at Tyra. He couldn't believe she'd just woken him up by pouring water on him. What was her deal?
"So are you gonna tell me what's going on?" He asked in his soft drawl as she took a sip of the water.
She avoided his eyes and instead rolled hers upward to stare at the ceiling, arms crossed over her chest. She couldn't be any clearer. "I want you gone, Tim," she said.
Then she met his gaze, and she slipped. He barely saw it, but it was there. His heart sank a bit, but beat a little faster at the same time. He hesitated.
Did he really want to get into this with her? He knew what would happen. It happened every time. She had a way about her that brought him out. Everything that he was pushing back surfaced. In turn, he both resented and welcomed it at the same time.
His world was spinning out of control around him, and right now he just wanted something or someone to hold on to. Something secure. He wanted to coax her fingers into meshing with his. Was there anyone more sure than Tyra? She never bullshitted him.
Tim scratched his chest and looked her way. She sent him a look that said how dead serious she was him leaving that day, and turned to enter her bedroom.
He sighed and pulled on his t-shirt. He found himself staring at her door and he laughed softly to himself. What a difference a year made. If he'd shown up a year ago, looking for a place to stay, she'd have shown him a whole new side of southern hospitality.
He grinned. He licked his lips and remembered how it felt to be with her; be a part of her. They'd had their own private world where just the two of them had mattered; and they'd had all they'd needed. They'd been so good together.
He caught his breath and wished again that things were different. What had ticked him off though was her ability to see through him. She'd called him out on Jackie.
And even though it pissed him off, he admitted that she was right. This really had nothing to do with Jackie, and had everything to do with Billy. Billy had outright stabbed him in the back. Then he'd kicked him when he was down, and had damn near all but held the front door open so he could walk on out.
He swore. Billy had to be fucking kidding him. Just like Tyra said, there's a line, and you just don't fucking cross it. Period.
He'd never screw Mindy. He was actually disappointed in Tyra for even thinking it, and the fact that she had felt the need to warn him off her sister just added more fuel to his already raging fire.
Damn Billy. Damn him to hell. Tim hated him then. He went around, playing the martyr and then he'd pull something like this that cut him open to the bone. What was he supposed to do? What was Billy thinking? Didn't they live by the same code? So why didn't he see how big of deal this was?
Of course it was a big deal. It was a big deal because Billy knew he'd react this way. But his brother had gone and done it anyway, even though he knew what would happen next. Which left him stuck playing out the hand he'd been dealt. A real shitty hand.
Tim winced as his head started to pound, reminding him of the fact that the forced cutback of his daily beer consumption was totally sucking. He was not enjoying the effects.
It was time, though she was right. This thing they had between them, it ran both ways. He knew something big was bothering her, even though she wasn't volunteering anything. Whatever it was, it scared the shit out of her, and she was trying real hard to be strong. And he knew she was at the edge, which meant it was either time for him to leave, or jump in headfirst. He took a deep breath and let himself into Tyra's room.
She had her back to him and was standing stiffly, arms crossed over her chest, staring out the window. He took a deep breath, and approached quietly to slip his arms around her waist. She stiffened initially but sank easily into his embrace once he spoke. "Just hear me out." He let his lips hover over her soft skin and her smooth neck. He closed his eyes. God she smelled so good. He tightened his arms around her. Just for a split second.
"Tyra look. I'm not perfect. I don't even know what the hell I'm doing. But I tell you what. I do know that something big is bothering you. And I appreciate you letting me stay here for a couple of days so I could sort things out, even though you've got other priorities." He sighed and released her from his embrace.
Tyra turned to look into his eyes. She looked exhausted. "Tim, it's just…" she stopped and struggled to find the right words. "There's just so much going on with me right now, and I just cannot deal with you here. It's too much. I just can't. I'm sorry."
He smiled softly, knew what she was trying to say. She was so damn near perfect. She radiated warmth, all of her golden and glowing. He wished he could wipe the sadness from her eyes. Instead he stepped back and said gruffly, "well thanks for letting me stay the past couple of days. I appreciate it."
Impulsively Tyra pulled him into her arms, and their foreheads bumped before tentatively settling to rest against each other.
Tim closed his eyes and breathed her in. He was careful to close his arms lightly around her, slowly. He drew her close and held her there. She surprised him when she leaned in. She held onto him tightly.
"Tyra," he started, until he saw the tears on her cheeks.
"Tyra?" He tried to meet her gaze but she tucked her face into his neck.
"Tim, will you just hold me? Just hold me OK?" She buried her face into his chest. He immediately tightened his arms around her, closed his eyes tightly and sighed. After all, this was what he'd wanted too, what he'd needed. He rested his chin on top of her head.
"Shhh," he whispered. "I've got you," he said softly. He'd lost a lover. But he wasn't about to lose a friend.
She fell apart, silently sobbing in his arms.
And he held on. For as long as she needed him, he would hold on.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Another fic I wrote, No Way Out, follows this one.