I'm not too hot on the whole Miami scene, so was double-checking with my grandma (who watches it religiously) what Ryan got chucked out for, asking her if it was for gambling (or something, can't quite remember) and (because she wasn't fully listening, holding two conversations and highlighting things to record at the same time) she went for a "Mmm, he was a naughty boy." To which my mum leant forward, clapped her hands in excitement and went "HE'S NOT THE MESSIAH, HE'S A VERY NAUGHTY BOY!" because she's a bit toooo cool sometimes. :P Anyway, this is what I got from it.
He pulled the car door closed, and let out a sob. He could feel the telltale signs of a migraine beginning, a vicious throbbing behind his right eye, the epicentre where he was shot, just off it. His migraines always began there, as if the second the nail had penetrated his skin, it had pierced a nerve that would never truly be the same again. A nerve that was very tetchy; the slightest annoyance would set it off.
Ryan had a stressful job, and for the most part, could ignore the almost constant twinges, but when he was really upset, the pain increased ten-fold. Like just now. He couldn't believe it – didn't want to believe it. He'd centred his world around his work, however sad it might sound, and now…now he had nothing.
The pain he'd felt at handing over his badge was indescribable. Every emotion you could think of was rushing through his head. He was devastated, yet elated, because no matter how much he had loved his job, being tied down was something he'd always resented, he'd always had trouble showing respect for authority, far preferred to be his own man. But he was scared, because although he needed to be in control of his life, unemployment was something so uncontrollable.
He felt an awful sense of freedom, relief that he could do as he pleased when he pleased, but also horror at how his life was now so changed. He would no longer have his set routine, and it terrified him. Anger, at how unfair his dismissal was, shock at how he became nothing so quickly, pushed aside by police as they entered the building. Guilt, as he stared at his supervisor through a window. Jealousy at everyone still working there, on his cases, grief, as the realization he wouldn't see his co-workers, his friends again, hit him. Hit him hard.
Ryan doubled over in the car, as if the acute pain would stop, as if it would ease it. But it didn't. Wave after wave of both emotional and physical pain hit him, the nerve-inducing migraine throbbing angrily. He'd walked for hours, after he'd been dismissed. What was he supposed to do now? He felt like his life had ruptured, been turned upside down. He was being made to start again. All he was qualified for was the job he'd just left. He doubted he'd get another position in another state, not when they received his report. And who would give him references? What would they say?
Up and down the beach he'd gone, before finding himself in a bar. It was early to be drinking, and he was aware that he needed to drive home after this. Oh god. His home. His flat. How was he supposed to keep up with the rent if he didn't have a job? Visions of him working in McDonalds, or some such institute flashed through his brain, and he'd groaned, knowing he wasn't capable of working in such an environment. He'd taken tonic water, bottle after bottle of it, before walking back to his car. He had someone to ring.
Justin had been there for him through everything. His big brother, he'd been determined not to let him waste his life away. He'd left school as soon as he could, and was working his way through dead-end jobs as a typist as Ryan did high school, and although his hours were long, he always found the time to lecture him daily about making something of himself. It had been he who had encouraged him to work at his sciences, insisted on coming to his parent's evenings alongside his mum, sometimes even taking her place. He'd watched him graduate from Boston with tears in his eyes, hell, even helped him find the job he'd just been fired from. He deserved to know.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pushed his seat back until it was touching the seats behind, and dialed his number, having acquitted it to memory years back. This call could go one of many ways. Whatever happened, he was hoping it was he that would pick up, and not his good-for-nothing wife.
Ryan had never liked Madeleine. She'd come with extra baggage, and he couldn't understand how Justin could be so accepting of two small children. He hadn't approved of them getting married so young. He especially hadn't approved of being what must have been the world's oldest ring-bearer at seventeen and three quarters when his brother had got married at twenty-three. That had been almost fifteen years ago, and Madeleine, who returned the feeling of dislike, never failed to remind him of how solid a relationship they had, compared to Ryan, who was thirty-two, with no steady girlfriend, and now no job.
He was hardly a role model to his nieces (because he considered Madeleine's daughters as nieces too). Madeleine's youngest daughter had turned sixteen the month before, and he'd given her half the cost of her car. She thought he was amazing, followed his every word, always insisted on talking to him when he rang. He was her step-uncle, but that didn't stop her crushing on him. As she pointed out to her very pissed off mother, he was of no blood-relation.
It annoyed Madeleine, so Ryan played it up for all he was worth, lingering hugs, kisses converting from cheek to corner of mouth, grabbing her hand before coming into view of Madeleine…he was certain she had the police on speed dial, ready for him to cross the line where it would be considered illegal and turn him in. Dana was a sweet girl, but just a kid, and Justin would have his balls in a jar if he even considered her, even when she became an adult. The idea of having Madeleine as a mother-in-law put him off anyway, even though it had fleetingly crossed his mind just how furious it would make her.
-
ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring
Madeleine had checked the caller id. She always made Ryan wait before she picked him up. She had to be careful though. Too long, and he'd hang up, fully aware of precisely what she was doing.
"Hello Ryan!" she answered chirpily. Ryan didn't even bother suppressing his groan, and his tone of dismay was clearly heard.
"Is Justin in?"
"I'm afraid he's out sweetie, why?" She'd find out anyway.
"…I guess you'll find out anyway, right?" he didn't bother waiting for her to answer. "I got fired today. From my job."
"Seriously?!" She had a hard time hiding her delight.
"Yeah.
Seriously. Handed my badge in, my gun…everything."
"What
for?" she asked, almost excitedly. On the other end Ryan frowned.
She was being far too enthusiastic about this.
"My gambling, mostly." He couldn't be bothered to regale her with the long story, and he knew this was the part she'd be most interested in anyway.
"Gambling?"
she asked. "I didn't even realize you had a problem with it."
"I
don't! Well…only a little one. Nothing uncontrollable!" he
added unconvincingly.
"Oh I'm sure Ryan, I'm sure," she smiled. The door opened behind her.
"Is that the Messiah?" Dana beamed. Madeleine rolled her eyes. She insisted on calling him that. It was incredibly frustrating the way she idolized him, the way he'd broken out of this dead-end town, was living his life, his amazing job. A smile broke out across Madeleine's face.
"I'll get Justin to ring you when he gets back Ryan," she informed him, her cold and detatched manner totally contradicting her facial expression as she hung up.
"Mum! Was that the Messiah?"
"He's not the Messiah," Madeleine grinned gleefully. "He's a very naughty boy!"
You won't have understood this entire oneshot if you haven't watched The Life of Brian, which I think is a Monty Python doodah, but I'm not planning on losing any sleep from it. :L For those who haven't seen it, it's about a guy who gets mistaken for Jesus, and there's a scene where he's running away from them all, and they catch him and all bow down, and someone shouts really angrily HE'S NOT THE MESSIAH, HE'S A VERY NAUGHTY BOY! It's my mum's favourite quote, hence why she said it when my grandma said Ryan was 'naughty' (which brought nice images ;)) and how I got inspired. So obviously, this rambling and basically pointless fic had to end with that line. R&R??