Notes: Ricky grew on me once he pulled his head out of his ass, although I can't for the life of me figure out why he thinks Jack Raydor is someone who puts forth credible opinions. There might be another story if I ever work it out. As always, thank you for reading. :)

Sweet Revenge

When Rusty walked into the living room later that morning and found Ricky waiting for him, he wasn't entirely surprised. Partly because where else was Ricky going to be when Rusty had the car keys (he'd sort of—okay, fine, more than sort of—held onto them on purpose), and partly because he'd been woken up by the tail end of the argument that Sharon had had with Ricky earlier.

It hadn't sounded like a pleasant one. Not that there were ever good arguments when Sharon was on the opposite side, but the worst part about arguing with Sharon was that she was usually more sad and disappointed than angry. Rusty suspected that she did that on purpose, because whenever she yelled, he had no problem yelling right back. Whenever she did the thing where she started rubbing her forehead and blinking a lot, then the only thing he wanted to do was apologize and escape to his room until she stopped looking like she wanted to cry.

The point was, if guilt worked half as well on Ricky as it did on him, then Rusty knew that the moment he entered the living room, Ricky would be wanting to talk.

It tied his stomach up in knots. Somehow, this had all gotten out of hand, but he couldn't hide in his room forever.

"Hey."

Sure enough, Ricky was sitting on the couch, facing the hall like he'd been waiting, his legs taking up all of the room and his laptop balanced on his knees.

"Uh... hey." Rusty gave him a cautious glance, stopping at the end of the hall.

Ricky closed his laptop and set it to the side. "Mind if we talk?"

They'd have to do it eventually. Might as well be now.

There was no more room on the couch. Which was fine with Rusty, because it wasn't like he wanted to sit next to the guy anyway. He wouldn't have minded dragging the armchair back a couple of feet, either, but he left the chair where it was and sat, waiting while he watched Sharon's son stretch his stupidly long legs.

Seriously, Ricky was, like, super tall. Sharon wore heels to be taller than everyone (or because she liked them? Rusty had no idea), and the top of her head hardly came up to his chin.

Rusty leaned back in his chair, arms folded, chin set, and waited.

Ricky ran a hand through his hair (his hair) and rearranged his legs again, this time straightening up to sit cross-legged.

"Uh..." Ricky cleared his throat. "Mom brought it to my attention that, uh, it's possible I may have been... operating without all of the pertinent facts."

Yeah. He was Sharon's kid all right.

"If that's your way of trying to say that you're sorry..." He hadn't actually said it, but still. "Then I accept."

"Really?" Ricky frowned at him, skeptical again and come on, hadn't he just kinda sorta apologized for that like two seconds ago? "Just like that?"

Rusty shrugged.

Ricky continued to stare at him.

Did he have to spell everything out? He was used to Sharon intuiting everything he meant to say, but he guessed that Ricky didn't have to be people smart.

"Just so you know," he said, "I never asked Sharon to adopt me, okay? That was all her idea, and the last thing I wanted was to cause problems for her. She said you'd be fine with it. That's why I agreed."

"You didn't have to agree." Ricky winced as soon as the words were out. "Sorry."

"Dude." Rusty tried very, very hard to keep a level tone. "Do you just, like, not know Sharon at all?"

Sharon always got exactly what she wanted, somehow. Rusty wasn't sure how she did that. Or how she ended up being right all the time.

Ricky gave him a sideways look, and sighed. "Look... I'm not saying that I like it, but Mom and I, uh... talked, and—"

"Really?" Rusty challenged. "Because it sounded more like she was yelling at you."

Ricky paused. "You heard all that?"

"Well... no," he admitted. "Not all of it. Just the yelling."

"Oh."

Rusty wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. He didn't even like Ricky, really, but it was still... kind of uncomfortable. Because he knew that Sharon was on his side, okay? He liked that Sharon was on his side, because she was basically the first person to ever be there, and that was great as long as they were talking about the other side consisting of serial killers. Or his father. But Sharon had sacrificed an awful lot to be on his side, and her other kids didn't need to be one of those sacrifices..

That was never what he'd wanted.

"And, just for the record?" he added. "This whole brothers thing was so not my idea."

"Yeah. I figured."

"Okay." As long as they were clear on that. "Because I don't, like... expect that."

There was a longer pause this time. "Do you have any?"

"Huh?"

"Brothers," Ricky clarified. "Or sisters."

Oh. Rusty shrugged. "Not that I know of." And he'd never wanted any, not from his mother. Who knew anymore, though? She'd been gone for three years. That was plenty of time to have a kid or two. Daniel hadn't even known about him. There could be others. For all Rusty knew, he had twenty siblings out there somewhere.

"Yeah," Ricky said. "Same. I didn't mean you," he added, when Rusty opened his mouth.

"Uh... you do know that Sharon's not hiding anyone else in here?"

"I meant my father." Ricky grimaced. "Mom's pretty upset that I listened to him. So am I, now."

It hadn't been his best move, Rusty agreed.

"Look," he said. "I don't, like, know what he said to you that made you come down here, but I get it, okay? Because if Sharon brought home some other kid tomorrow, that would be... it'd just be weird." Maybe it was a good thing that he'd never had any brothers or sisters, because there was an uneasy quiver in his stomach just thinking about it. He wouldn't want to share his mother, either. "It'd be really weird, and you've known her a lot longer than I have."

Ricky looked surprised. "Thanks, I guess."

Rusty shrugged.

"Mom's made it pretty clear that she plans to keep you." Ricky gave him another look, sizing him up. "And I'm not going anywhere, either, and neither is Emily."

Maybe Emily should've come with him. Rusty didn't talk to her a whole lot, either, but he liked her better.

Rusty stared guardedly back at him, unsure of where this was going. It wasn't exactly new information, was it?

"You want some breakfast?"

Rusty blinked, and then shrugged. "Sure."


Sharon hadn't expected to come home and find him and Ricky playing chess at the dining room table, Rusty could tell. They both looked up when she entered and she paused too, breaking her stride just for a second. Her hand came up, her fingers curling around the straps of her purse, and her eyes narrowed, just a little. "What's going on here?"

"Chess," Ricky supplied. "Did you know it's all Rusty thinks about? You've got to let the kid watch TV sometimes, Mom."

For Sharon's sake, Rusty bit his tongue and didn't protest being called a kid. Again.

"Oh, I can assure you that Rusty's not suffering from a lack of adequate television time." The dry edge left Sharon's voice as she looked between them again. "But you're playing chess together?"

Her voice was smaller then, softer, and her other hand joined the first, her wrists crossing over her heart.

"We kinda did a lot of things together today," Rusty said. And sure, they'd gone to see Guardians of the Galaxy because it was the sort of thing they could do together without having to actually talk to each other, but Ricky hadn't had to buy him nachos.

"You... did?"

"Mom," Ricky said softly. "I told Rusty, but I want to tell you too. I'm sorry. I..."

He didn't get much farther. Sharon took two steps forward just as Ricky stood, and he let her walk into his arms.

He could rest his chin on the top of Sharon's head. It was ridiculous and unfair and it kind of made Rusty feel like a little kid, because he was only ever taller than Sharon when she was barefoot. She looked weirdly small with Ricky dwarfing her but her arms were tight around him. Rusty had been on the receiving end of one of those hugs a couple of times. Sharon could hold on.

... but it seemed like Sharon didn't want to let go of Ricky ever, and it turned out that watching other people hugging was just as awkward as being hugged himself. Rusty stood and tried to step around his chair quietly.

He wasn't even sure that either of them remembered he was there, really, and they probably had a lot to talk about, he didn't want to interrupt...

He'd only made it a few steps backwards when Sharon's head came up, and she took a step back from the hug. She half turned towards Rusty, beckoning him closer with her other arm still wrapped around Ricky's waist. Rusty shot her an alarmed look and shook his head. He didn't do group hugs. He hardly did regular hugs.

But Sharon motioned at him again, more insistently this time than the first, so Rusty took a few hesitant steps towards her. She caught him when he was close enough, her arm sliding around his shoulders. It was the sort of almost-hug that he could live with.

"I would just like to say," she started, and there was a little hitch in her breath that made Rusty's chest tighten. "That the both of you are so, so important to me." She squeezed Rusty's shoulder, and from the way Ricky stumbled a little closer, Rusty could tell she had an iron grip on him too.

"I know, Mom," Ricky said quietly.

Sharon turned to him next, shifting her grip on him without loosening her hold. "Okay?"

"Okay, Sharon."

He watched her smile as she tilted her head against Ricky's arm. "And I really appreciate the effort that you're both making right now. Thank you."

"Yeah," he mumbled, and heard Ricky make a similar sound of agreement.

Sharon squeezed once more before she let him wriggle out of her hold, nodding towards the board set up on the dining room table. "I think we have time for the two of you to finish your game before dinner."

"We were just about finished anyway," Rusty told her.

Ricky took his seat again. "Rusty was just about to win. For the twentieth time in a row."

Sharon laughed, stepping closer to Ricky's chair. Even sitting down, he was almost taller than she was. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders again. "He does that," she agreed ruefully. "I've instituted a ten move rule whenever we play."

"Mom." Ricky actually rolled his eyes. "Always rules with you."

Rusty looked down to hide his smile.

Okay. Maybe Ricky wasn't all bad.

If nothing else, it would be nice to have someone who understood how fixated Sharon could be.

"That's right," Sharon said. Her eyes flickered to Rusty. "Or, if you think you could find it in your heart to spare his self-confidence, I believe there's several takeout menus in the kitchen just waiting to be agreed upon. What do you say, Rusty?"

It seemed to Rusty that Ricky had self-confidence to spare, actually, but he was hungry.

"Dinner sounds good to me."

"But we could play another game later," Ricky suggested. "After dinner. If you want to."

He wasn't sure if Ricky was only offering because Sharon was standing right there and they both knew it would make her happy, but... if Sharon was going to be so determined for all of them to be stuck together for the rest of their lives, he and Ricky were going to have to at least be friends, and they both knew it.

"Yeah," Rusty said. "Okay."