I've had the rough draft of this for a few weeks, but the prompt kind of gave it purpose, if that makes sense. The original version meandered a little, since I couldn't exactly figure out where it was going. This takes place in the same universe as my "Still My Best Friend" AU.
In high school, when one of Eret's teachers had explained Pavlov's experiments, he had been the first one to get it. (Which had been kind of nice, since he usually wasn't the first person to get anything.) Mostly because it had been an explanation as to why, every time he heard Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation", he reached for his phone. Even if he knew the song wasn't coming from his phone, he still went to answer it, and started calculating the fastest way to wherever Merida was.
She was the only one of his contacts to get a personalized ringtone. He knew she had different tones for his calls and texts, but that was too much for his male brain to keep straight. So anything from her was heralded by "Bad Reputation".
And he answered. Even when he knew he shouldn't.
No doubt there were rules against answering the phone when you were on a date. Especially when the call was from another girl. And he did feel guilty when he saw Heather's hurt annoyance as he swiped his phone's screen and took Merida's call. (If she had ever seen her best friend bleeding all over a white carpet, a broken bone cutting through the skin on her left leg, maybe she would understand.)
And he had arranged this date for a Wednesday night specifically so it wouldn't interfere with his Friday night calls with Merida. So if she was breaking routine, there was probably something wrong.
"Is something broken?" he asked.
The too familiar hesitation. The ragged exhale. They were practically a fanfare.
His gut clenched.
"Mer?"
"Mum's gonna kill me."
Some people might be surprised just how much that narrowed it down.
He lowered the French fry he had been about to bite into. "You crashed?"
"I hit an ice slick."
He looked outside the diner window, where the temperature didn't even qualify. But he knew Burgess's weather had taken the usual dip in late October.
"Nothing broken?"
"Just the car." There was more emotion in her voice than when she told him about broken bones and concussions.
When he caught sight of Heather across the table, she actually looked concerned. Hopefully she wouldn't decide he was a total jerk.
"Which car?" That was very important.
And her hesitation was all the answer he needed. But just to confirm…
"Dad's."
"He let you drive the truck?"
"Long story. I lost control, now I'm in the ditch on Syringa Road, and it won't start."
Syringa. Way outside of town. She must have gone to Astrid's, since there was nothing else to take her out that far.
"Don't kill me. You're sober, right?"
"I'm gonna kill you."
"Just checking." He knew she wasn't the partying type, but he still had to ask. "I'd come pick you up, but it's a five hour flight." A flight he absolutely would make if he could. But the whole thing would probably be over by the time he got there. "You'll have to call your parents. If you're not hurt, you probably shouldn't call 911."
There was a long pause, which made Eret realize he had forgotten to ask if she had hit her head.
"You need to come home."
His heart sank. It was probably the closest Merida would ever come to admitting that she missed him. And the raw vulnerability in her voice was something he had only ever heard a few times.
"Are you okay?" he asked, more concerned than ever.
"No!" she snapped. "I have to face my mum after totaling the truck! I've never faced my parents without you."
"That's…" Absolutely true, he realized.
Ever since they were children, they'd had a system. When Merida got in trouble, Fergus kept Elinor calm, and Eret was there to do the same for Merida.
His stomach twisted with guilt.
Of all the things he had considered before leaving for college, he hadn't considered this. But now he did, because he couldn't leave her to deal with this alone.
"You call your dad. I'll call your mom. Will that work?"
He knew she wouldn't like it. But he couldn't think of anything else to do.
Finally, she sighed. "Aye."
"Call me back."
"'kay. Eret?"
"Thanks."
Somehow, that didn't make him feel better. Because he felt like he was failing her more than he was actually helping.
"You're welcome."
"Come home."
"Finish high school so you can come out here."
She laughed, even if just a little, before hanging up.
Eret looked across the table at Heather, who already looked resigned. It was probably a jerk move. And he did feel bad.
But not as guilty as he had felt about planning this date in the first place. Ever since Heather had asked him out, he had felt he was breaking some unspoken rule of his and Merida's friendship. He wasn't sure why. The fact this had happened just seemed to confirm that this whole thing had been a mistake.
"Sorry," he said. "I have to take care of this."
Heather nodded, and Eret was already dialing Elinor's number as he left the diner.