Judgment, or the Lack Thereof
By TheBucketWoman
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Degrassi or anything else I reference herein. No profit is being made and no infringement intended.
A/N: Fair warning. Spoilers for everything up to and including "Jesus, Etc." Which means that some of the characters will be talking about one of those subjects that people don't like to talk about, namely religion. Some characters (*CoughEliCough*) will be less than politically correct about it. The opinions of these characters are their own, and not mine. There's also going to be a certain amount of language of the salty, four letter variety running through in some places. We cool?
Judgment or the Lack Thereof.
1.
"I can't believe it," Eli said. "Cannot be-fucking-lieve it."
"We've established that," Adam said. Eli had been pacing his living room for half an hour or so, while Adam stared at the TV, which had been on The Office, a show that Adam thought was okay, but Eli hated with a passion for some reason. The fact that two episodes had run in a row was testament to how oblivious to his surroundings Eli had become.
"I mean, he found Jesus?" Eli asked. "Really?"
"That's what he said."
"I mean how convenient is that?" Eli continued as though Adam hadn't spoken. Adam didn't really know why he had spoken other than to remind himself that he was in the room.
"He pushes the one button he knows is gonna work," Eli continued. "The one thing that's gonna get Clare in his corner. And you know, I told her that, but she didn't want to hear it."
"What if it's true?" Adam asked. Eli kept talking for a few more seconds and then, the fact that Adam had spoken seemed to register.
"What? True? Are you kidding me?" Eli squeaked. "How stupid does this kid think we all are?"
Oh, so he can hear me, Adam thought. He opened his mouth to elaborate, but didn't get a chance.
"It's just a ploy for sympathy," Eli said. "People pull that shit in prison all the time. Gets them out on good behavior or whatever."
"Maybe you're just really anti-religion?" And anti-Fitz, of course. What would someone call that—a Fitzophobe? It seemed like there needed to be a term.
"'Religion is the opium of the people,'" Eli said. Adam made a mental note to Google that later. It sounded familiar. Adam was just glad they were at Eli's house and not his. Adam's mother, who didn't go to church every week, managed to make it often enough, and would have chased Eli out of their house with a broom by now.
"I really hope you don't talk like that around Clare," Adam said.
"If you want to control people, tell them they'll get hit by lightning or something when they do something wrong," Eli said.
"Would that be such a bad thing, in Fitz's case?" Adam wanted to know. Maybe some people needed a little control, a little lightning or hellfire, or even just guilt.
See, the problem with Eli was that he really seemed to think that most religious people were either crazy or stupid and that was just not cool. Adam himself had been raised Catholic and he was neither crazy nor stupid. Okay, so he wasn't the biggest fan of some of the teachings, but that didn't mean that suddenly there was no God. And his parents had their issues, of course, especially his mother, and while he knew that his mother could be an unholy pain in the ass, (he said that with love) her religion didn't have as much to do with it as one would think.
"But that's not the point," Eli said.
"What is the point?" Adam asked.
"The point is…" Eli had to pause long enough to think of what the point was, "that Fitz can't be trusted."
Adam couldn't deny that, though he didn't think that he was suspicious for the same reasons. Eli's problem with the kid was perfectly reasonable of course. Adam got that. It had to be hard to look at the guy and not see a knife coming at him. But Adam actually believed Fitz. Or, rather, he believed that Fitz believed. The guy had that desperate look about him that some people had when they had nothing else going for them. There were religious people who were the real deal, like Clare, and then there were people like Fitz. Because Fitz might be both crazy and stupid. Well, stupid, definitely. The jury was still out on the crazy.
So Adam didn't trust him either.
"And now Clare's pissed at me," Eli said.
"That she is," Adam said.
"She keeps giving me the 'I'm disappointed in you' look," Eli said. "And it's like she's not gonna get it until something happens, and that is what terrifies me. Something's gonna happen."
"What?" Adam asked. "Exactly what do you think's gonna happen?"
"I don't know! I don't even wanna think about what he's capable of!"
"So what're you gonna do?"
"Fuck if I know," he said. He ran his hands through his hair. Adam wasn't sure he'd ever seen Eli's forehead before, but now his hair was sticking up all over the place and parts of his face that might never have seen the sun were out in their white, pasty glory. "I just need to keep her away from him somehow."
"And how're you planning to do that?"
"No idea," Eli said. "You're gonna help, right?"
Crap, Adam thought. On one hand, he knew a losing battle when he saw one. On the other hand, Eli had never asked him for anything and had always been there to help with Adam's shit, so there could only be one answer to the question.
"Whatever you need," he said, sighing. This was going to suck.
2.
Clare's mother once said something about Darcy having a talent for bringing home strays. Darcy brought home a dog once, but even at 12 or 13 Clare knew that her mother wasn't talking about that lost schnauzer.
She'd been referring to Spinner and Peter.
Darcy had gone nuclear, of course, the way she should've.
And though Clare had been pretty offended on her behalf (she'd liked both of her sister's old boyfriends well enough, and come to think of it, talked to them more often than she talked to Darcy herself ) she herself didn't get really angry until she overheard her mother talking at (not talking to, talking at) her father on the phone.
"Well, I don't think that finding your daughter with another delinquent is a good thing!" her mother said. "And I thought the atheist was bad."
When her mother talked like that, a part of Clare wanted to see if she could hire someone to show up at the house dressed like a gang member or a Mafioso or something. Maybe if she asked Wesley nicely, he'd dress up as the Hamburglar for her.
She stifled an inappropriate giggle at that thought. She couldn't wait to tell Eli about—
Oh, yeah. Darnit. She was mad at him. It's not that she blamed him for being worried. But he'd referred to her faith as a weakness. And no. Just no.
She thought he'd had more respect for her than that.
Weakness.
Weakness?
She wanted to pick up the phone and let him know exactly what she thought of his choice of words. The thing that really cheesed her off was the amount of time that had passed before she'd registered what he'd actually said to her.
Weakness?
The thought didn't want to go away. It played on a loop in her head: weaknessweaknessweakness.
It got worse after she found out Fitz worked at the Dot and Eli picked just the right moment to drive by and have a hissy fit. Did he have any idea what he looked like shoving Fitz out of the way, the whole place watching? Because Clare did. He was like a tantrum throwing toddler. And Fitz, no doubt, was a big poopyhead.
Then, she'd gone ahead and let herself get dragged back to Morty, and then he drove her home in silence.
Later that night, Eli called.
"Clare…"
"What do you want?"
"To talk to you."
"So you're done holding your breath till you turn blue?"She asked. "Good boy!"
"Clare."
"Sorry," she said. "Sarcasm. It's a weakness."
"Clare," he said. "Why don't you get it?"
"I guess I'm just a little slow," she said.
"What you're doing is not safe," Eli said, slowly and patiently, like he was talking to a kid. "Talking to that…that…psychotic is not safe. You don't understand."
"You don't understand," Clare said. "It's like you refuse to understand. I'm not your dog or your child. So that means you can let me decide what's safe and what isn't." Then she hung up on him.
The worst thing was that she couldn't think of anyone that she could call to talk to about this. No one would be on her side. Alli had her own drama going on. Adam was firmly in Eli's corner, not that she could blame him.
That knife.
But she'd been taught all her life that her job was to forgive, to trust, to treat people the way she wanted to be treated. If this was just something that you told kids, then someone should have sent her the memo.
Fitz looked so desperate. How could she not at least try to help if she could?
Plus, she'd seen firsthand what good could come from giving people another chance. Those so-called strays that Darcy used to date might agree.
Why couldn't anyone understand that she was just trying to do the right thing here? What was so hard about that? Maybe Fitz wanted to be a better person. If he did, then someone had to give him a chance to do that.
TBC
A/N: That thing Eli said about religion and opium came from Karl Marx.
A/N the second: This is my first attempt at these characters. I love them, and hope I did them justice.