Chapter 35
The More You Ruv Someone
(The more you want to kill them)
I don't own Avenue Q.
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About a week and a half into his brilliant, not-so-brilliant plan of ignoring Shane's entire existence, Hunter was beginning to think that the rest of the team really was as incredibly stupid as he initially conceived them to be. With Shane…To be honest, Hunter had stopped recognizing anything Shane did after about a day because his brain would latch onto that like it was what kept the world spinning, and if he ever stopped thinking about it, they were all going to die. And then he'd overanalyze all these different options to the point that he couldn't even remember what he was actually analyzing (which was a new kind of pathetic, for him, and he was beginning to sound uncomfortably close to Cam), and then it would all boil down to the depressed, kicked-puppy look Shane seemed to be continuously sporting nowadays.
So yeah, Hunter had stopped thinking about Shane's reactions to everything.
But everyone else was fair game, and they had to be morons.
Seriously, why else had no one stepped in yet? Aside from Blake (who didn't really count because he was more on Hunter's side than Shane's), no one had stepped up. What had happened to angry Tori and protective Cam? Where did they disappear to?
So far, Dustin was the only one who had even tried to ask Hunter what Shane done, and he couldn't even go completely through with it (and he probably could have made Hunter fold like a card table if he had asked a second time).
Hunter had honestly expected someone to try punching him in the face by this point, but so far all he got was nothing. Zilch. Nada.
Just one sad, depressed, stupid, stupid red ranger, who for some odd reason hadn't given up on him yet.
Hunter refused to feel hopeful. That would require thinking, about Shane, and that was going to end up with another broken blender and…
Why, what do we have here?
The team was hanging around Storm Chargers when there was a disturbance in the force. Hunter had looked up in time from restocking the riding gloves to see what could only be an older Shane-spawn walking through the door, looking incredibly dapper in a business suit. Professional-like without being stuffy, but still giving off the air of a guy that was a bit of a dick. It was the determined face. He was cruising for something, and he wasn't going to leave without it. Family reunions must be a real fun time at the Clarke household.
The guy was old, but not old enough to be Shane's dad, so it was a sibling or cousin, and one look was enough for Hunter to know that there was not a great deal of love in this relationship. Resentment, maybe. Disappointment, definitely. Years of poor communication resulting in this cold, forced thing that held just the bare minimum of courtesy that was required when dealing with relatives was almost palpable in the air. The guy wore it like another coat. Made him even more of douche.
This was not going to be good.
Initial gut response -, Hunter didn't like it. Family business was always tricky, but Shane didn't seem upset enough by older-dick's entrace to warrant any big reactions from any of his friends, so the blond pushed those initial feelings down and focused on his work.
But hey, it wasn't Hunter's fault if he just happened to overhear their conversation right? It was a small store, after all.
"Shane," older Shane-kinsmen greeted, a small yet distinct amount of annoyance in his tone. While Pompous-Clarke nodded politely to Tori and Cam, Hunter restrained from throwing merchandise at the to-be-named-dick's head. It probably wouldn't help with the "stealth" vibe he was going for.
He didn't like that tone. It didn't fit on someone who was supposed to be family.
While the feeling of injustice that Shane be saddled with this person were not exactly unexpected, Hunter knew enough about the world's apathetic cruelty to swallow it down. Even if Shane did deserve better.
"Porter." Shane responded to the greeting with a slow nod.
Hunter searched his memory until he recognized that particular tone of voice as tired. Not quite resigned, but getting there.
What did this 'Porter' want?
Older brother/cousin didn't bother with any pleasantries before he started barking out orders.
Because, hey, was common courtesy really that important when you were out in public?
Apparently no.
He didn't even look at Shane; he was too busy checking his watch. "Grab your stuff; we've got to get to Dana's parade."
Hunter brushed away that flare of annoyance to mentally connected the dots. Dana was the younger sister Shane used to gripe about (probably still did, just...not to Hunter), so Porter (the ass) was wrangling Shane into some kind of holiday festivity centered around the little darling. Seeing as she was pretty much involved in everything, Shane wasted a lot of time with these little side trips that could be better devoted to just anything else.
Though he had never met her, Hunter figured Dana was an attention whore. Without this ever important life force she'd die.
He wondered if that'd really be such a terrible loss.
Shane sighed, definitely tired, like he and Porter had already had this particular fight dozens of times. They probably had, Hunter assumed, but Porter wasn't nice enough to just let it rest and decided to intrude upon the skater's personal place of refuge.
Shane tried to make a logical argument anyway. "I already went to her recital and the Christmas concert-"
Because she's a whore.
"Which you ducked out of," Porter interrupted.
Okay, now Hunter knew he wasn't the only one cringing in sympathy. He remembered that night, Shane had tried to finish up the monster attack quickly so he could make it back for the end of his sister's concert of no-redeeming-value, the timing just hadn't been feasible. That's what happened when you made sure your job got done right.
Unfortunately, due to the whole 'secret identity thing' he couldn't use that as an excuse.
Shane's reply was quieter, with evident traces of guilt. "I was feeling sick."
It wasn't his fault.
Shane shouldn't be guilted for missing one lousy performance. He's been to like, ten of them in the past two months. Hunter would know, he had to hear about them.
Heard. He had heard about them.
The blond frowned, shoving the glove in his hand onto the wrack harder than necessary.
Stupid jerk.
Being the pleasant fellow that he was, Porter made sure Shane knew he didn't buy the excuse.
"I'm sure you were," he replied sarcastically, talking down to his younger brother as though he was dealing with a particularly difficult toddler.
The blatant disrespect raised Hunter's hackles. This "pleasant" conversation about family affairs was going towards a place he didn't like, and if the tension kept building, he knew somebody was going to get nasty. It probably wouldn't be Shane.
The remaining options did not sit well with Hunter.
Could brothers really act like this?
Shane continued as though he hadn't heard the sarcastic barb, listing off his sister's other various December activities on his fingers. "The Winter Carnival thing, caroling tomorrow, and then there's that party where my attendance is apparently mandatory." He sighed quietly, still fighting what he had already perceived as a losing battle. "It's a parade; she won't even notice I'm not there."
Porter frowned, back tensing. "That's not the point."
The older Clark grit his teeth together, and…hell, he was ready for a fight. Not a real one, but this was it. There was a dam Shane couldn't sense that was waiting to be destroyed, and the poor air ninja was still under the preconceived notion that this would be like every other fight he must have had with Porter.
He didn't recognize the powder keg he was about to set off until too late.
"Then what is?" The skater rubbed the side of his head, looking away from his older brother, expecting a short answer.
And…release the Kraken.
Porter frowned, disappointment and frustration permeating his tone. "We're your family," he began, arms folding across his chest so he could get into the proper lecture position. "And I know you're probably too busy riding your skateboard or hanging around here to appreciate that." He gave the shop a disapproving look over. "But we come first. Family's permanent, you don't get to be there when you want to be, you just…" Porter stopped, tilting his head to get a better look at Shane. "Are you even listening?"
Hunter didn't look, but he knew Shane had to be blocking it out, keeping sane. And, most importantly, trying to quell the urge to hit his brother.
Which Hunter would have gladly done by now.
Porter let out an annoyed huff. "See, this is what I've been talking about." He threw up his hands in frustration, not caring about the attention he drew by the steady raise in volume. "You don't respect anything. You have no direction, no drive. You're just completely apathetic to everything, aren't you? Just some teenage rebel, shooting the breeze." He dropped his arms, disgusted. "Grow up Shane. Do something with your life. Some kids would kill to have the family you've got."
And on that final inspirational note, Porter checked his watch again, as though they could actually go through with the stupid parade thing after humiliating his little brother in public.
Oh…hell no.
Hunter barely had a family, and he knew that shit was way off base.
That did it, he was pissed.
Luckily, they had finally got to the point in the conversation where Shane would verbally wipe the floor with this guy and reclaim his dignity. He would probably do it with tact, kill him with kindness so sweet and so careful that Porter wouldn't even realize the gigantic ass he had been until he had safely exited the store, sans-Shane. It would actually be a pretty magical moment, come to think of it. Watching Shane put his red ranger diplomatic skills to use would be both be entertaining and, more importantly, poetic justice. How better to fight a low-life who expected nothing of you than by proving you were a hundred and twenty percent the person he was?
Balance would be restored. There would be no more sibling activities to attend.
See, Hunter didn't need get angry, everything would be fine. Shane definitely had it in him; he just had to wait, see, and then-
"Alright," Shane muttered, head in his hands. "I got it." He stood up, keeping steady eye contact with his brother while refusing to look at the rest of the rangers. "Let me get my things."
And then he disappeared into the back of the shop like nothing had happened.
Like that uncomfortable debacle of a conversation had not just wrecked the status quo with unforgivable brutality.
Hunter knew he wasn't the only one looking completely shocked, because what the hell?
What the ever-loving hell?
Was Shane really just going to sit back and take this? He didn't have to. He was better than this. He was better than wasting the precious little free time he had watching his obnoxious sister ride by on a float for ten seconds before disappearing from, and-
No.
No. No, damn it - no, this was not happening. One guy being an ass to Shane and the air ninja just taking it was pushing the limit, but his own brother? Had this happened so many times that Shane didn't even bother fighting for himself anymore? As though he didn't deserve some basic decency?
Did he actually believe this prick?
Hunter's mouth managed to catch up to his feet by the time he was spinning older-spawn around, and he was honestly impressed with the fact that he didn't give into his urge to punch the guy right then and there.
"Hey," he barked, gripping that stupid button shirt up with both hands. Porter snapped out of his surprise long enough to look indignant and opened his mouth to object, but Hunter cut him off. "Shut up."
Well, that was a strong start.
"I'm Hunter, and you know who's a bad guy?" the blond asked, trying to keep his voice down (and damn was it hard). "You know who's a rebel? I am. You could ask anyone in here and they would be happy to tell you that I am, undeniably, a dick."
It was true; there was no way anyone could object to it - more honest words had never been spoken. Hunter was actually surprised Tori hadn't stood up and shouted 'Amen!' when he made this declaration.
"But that guy that just walked out-" Hunter motioned to the back door Shane had disappeared through, Dustin hovering near its entrance. "The one you dressed down in front of all his friends? That guy is nice. Ridiculously nice." Hunter couldn't even think of a proper way to describe it, but his mouth was happy to go on anyway. "I am talking about the epitome of caring and consideration, lengths that are completely unnecessary to go to, he will go to, because he is that nice." He released one hand from Porter's shirt so he could wave his arm in an attempt to emphasize this, as though it would help. "That guy does right by people. That guy tries to always do the right thing, even when he's not sure what it is. Even when he doesn't like it."
Hunter was trying to get across the insanity of it all, because it was, legitimately, insane, but he had to hold onto his anger or else he would lose it.
"Because he's mature," Hunter continued. "Because he's a good friend. Because he is a good person who doesn't demand anything of the world." And this was it, the real dressing down that needed to happen. "You might call that apathy. You might interpret that as not taking things seriously, but he deserves some goddamn respect. And if you are half the mature adult you claim to be, you will give it to him."
Hunter stopped. That had felt almost…therapeutic, in a sense. Like he had taken a load off, but he wasn't done.
The easy part was over, now was the time to get instructive.
The thunder ninja leaned forward, summoning every ounce of menace he had learned back in the early days of his ranger career, when he had been aiming to match murder for murder. "Now you are going to leave. You are going to leave, and the next time you see Shane you are going to be pleasant and nice and helpful because that's what brothers are supposed to be. And if you don't…"
Hunter trailed off, settling back into the evil, Toxipod-tainted Hunter of yesteryear. Just to give that added hint of crazy.
"Let's just say I have a special fondness for knives and car tires, and I'm just dying to think of an appropriate way to combine the two." There was a fearful look in the older brother's eye that Hunter reveled in, disbelief mixed with genuine surprise and a certain flavor of shellshock that was just delicious.
With a wicked smirk, Hunter delivered the final blow. "But only if I'm given proper motivation."
After that he let older-Clarke go. Hunter had said his piece (the piece that someone else, i.e. Tori, should have delivered a while ago because she had a sane head on her shoulders and she must have seen this song and dance before), now it was just a matter of going back to his work and pretending nothing had happened. He could go back to the silent-treatment act the rest of the team was letting him get away with if Shane started asking questions, and it wasn't like-
From the corner of his eye, Hunter caught a flash of movement – red, hovering at the backdoor just over Dustin's shoulder.
Based on the gobsmacked expression on the red ranger's face, Hunter had not managed his time quite as effectively as he had hoped.
Whatever, Hunter didn't owe him anything. He was pretty sure being a dick to someone's family member wouldn't put you in anyone's good graces, so he was totally fine. Nothing to feel self-conscious about.
With that settled, Hunter gestured sharply towards the front door, impatience setting in. "Go."
The older Clarke-spawn didn't need to be told twice.
Porter quickly exited with as much dignity as he could manage, allowing the tightness that had built in Hunter's chest to finally dissipate. The others stared at him in silent confusion, probably unsure of what to say (which was great, as he was in a similar boat).
That hadn't been a part of his plan. Really, Hunter hadn't thought much beyond fixing what was clearly a wrong in the world of Shane. He understood it was crazy (coming from him), but like some kind of possessive fourth grade girl, it was like Hunter needed to prove that only he could do that. No one else got to kick Shane around, that was his job. Hunter had dibs. And dibs were universal goddamn it.
There would always be other excuses, but the greatest motivation (that he would never own up to) was that he was plagued with the misfortune of caring an uncomfortably great amount for this wonderfully stupid- Okay, no. Hunter couldn't really insult Shane after seeing that. Not even in the comfort of his own brain.
Against what he might have previously assumed, time had not, in fact, stopped while Hunter had established his mental ownership of Shane-meddling. In the meantime, Shane had made his way over, one hand already reaching out towards Hunter, the beginning of the words, "Thank you-" hovering on his lips.
Hunter didn't think. It wasn't his strong point today.
He should have thought (about something useful – as this teenage-angst business? Not so useful) because this could have been an out. This could have been the restoration of normalcy.
But his body reacted before his brain could; going straight into what the new set standby had been for dealing with Shane. Before he even realized it, Hunter had breezed out of Storm Chargers in three seconds flat, calling out a goodbye to Kelly and shrugging off Shane's hand as though it were nothing.
He should turn around. He should turn around right now and get on his knees and come up with as many different ways to apologize as he could, that might save him, if he were capable of salvation.
Instead, Hunter kept walking.
He was kind of stupid like that.
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Nobody said anything, not that Shane blamed them for it. He didn't have anything to add either, there was nothing left to say. The hits were coming too fast - first Porter, and then Hunter, and-
How was it that the most difficult relationships he had just happened to be some of the most important ones?
He didn't- He couldn't do this, not here. Shane needed some space, he needed…he needed to leave. He needed to take a page from Hunter's book and get going before he had to look at any of the others.
Shane didn't want their sympathy, he didn't want their words.
That wasn't what he needed.
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Running helped. Fresh air plus physical exertion was always a winning combination for Shane, allowing him to work off the excess anger and frustration so that he could deal with the mess that was building inside his head. He didn't understand it. He just couldn't understand Hunter.
At this point it shouldn't be this frustrating. It wasn't like the crimson ranger had been easy to follow before; it was just that now-
Why? Why'd he do it? Why had he stood up for Shane? His entire goal for destruction or pride or the renewal of barriers was to pointedly not do anything that involved Shane, or if he did, to have those actions be caustic and provoke misery upon the red ranger. To put it in the most basic, understandable terms, it seemed like he had wanted to make Shane feel bad.
He had succeeded. He had super succeeded. Hunter had been the winner a thousand times over in the little game he had created, and Shane had been left hopeless and confused and wishing desperately that he didn't have to play anymore. Shane had surrendered.
Wouldn't Porter being…well, Porter - loudly, in front of everyone Shane knew and cared about - wouldn't allowing that to carry on be enough for Hunter? It only contributed to what he wanted, right? It added to his end goal and he didn't even have to do it. That should have been a win-win.
Maybe Shane would have been better with that. Maybe he would have preferred for everything to carry on as it had been (in a predictable, comforting way) as opposed to feeling, well, hopeful again. Feeling like he might have gotten his friend back, that they were fine and they didn't even have to start over.
It was like Hunter was finally owning up to the fact that he really did care, and as a result they wouldn't have to keep doing this stupid, ridiculous thing anymore. They could have stopped and let it fade into a funny story they could tell at some indeterminate point in the future – some awful thing that would become a fond memory, as strange as that sounded.
Hunter had to give Shane all that - had to make him feel that much better - and then ruthlessly tear it away, dangling it just out of reach and laughing at Shane's pathetic attempts to reach for it.
Was this all just a game to him? Is that why he had done it, because he knew it would make Shane feel worse? Or was it because he was the one with Shane-abuse rights and shame to the person who thought they could cut in on that action. That would not do. Only Hunter the jerk, the tool, the…insane, twisted, ridiculous excuse for a human being, was allowed to make the red ranger feel bad. Those were the rules.
Distantly, Shane registered the fact that Hunter could only affect him if he allowed it to happen. That he crimson ranger could only rile him up if he gave into the blond's bait, but somewhere along the line, the pure lunacy that was Hunter had infected his brain and he just couldn't think of…he just couldn't detach from it. Clean his hands of this entire mess.
That didn't really make sense either. Why the hell was Hunter so important that Shane was willing to put up with all this crap? This wasn't what a normal friendship entailed. Sure, 'normal' and 'Hunter' didn't really go together, but this was so far off-base that it wasn't even in the same realm as friendship. It was somewhere else entirely, something new that hadn't been labeled. A special place where they were stuck in this constant loop of overreactions and over-analyzing and way too much emotion.
It was strange, thinking back on it. Shane had never worried about how much he was obsessing over Hunter. Ever since the whole love-potion thing, it just seemed like thinking about Hunter was easier. Not that he was still on a love-high or anything, just that…like maybe there had been this mental roadblock there, that kept Shane safe from the older Bradley's world, and the potion just took it out. Made him start thinking and he just hadn't stopped.
But that wasn't anything to be worried about. Shane liked Hunter. Eventually, once he had given him a chance. Hanging out with Hunter was actually fun. Underneath all the brooding and sarcasm was a guy who was…actually kind of goofy.
He tried to hide it. For the sake of machismo, Shane figured. Or to keep himself safe, to keep from appearing "weak". But every once in a while, his guard would drop and Shane would get to see the relaxed Hunter behind the mask, the one who was fun. Regular-Hunter, who was a genuinely nice guy who cared about his friends.
Hunter had principals, and rules, and a structure he lived by. He took care of Shane when he hadn't wanted it; he looked after all of them and didn't ask for anything in return. Shane missed hanging out with that Hunter. He missed being able to share his ideas for the team with him, to receive the other's blunt but honest feedback in return.
Shane fought off a smirk as he darted through a cluster of trees, ducking under the branches.
This is what he should be worried about. How badly his missed Hunter. He never thought he'd see the day where he actually wanted the crimson ranger around, let alone mourned his absence. If Shane's past-self could only see him now, he'd be crying. Or laughing. He was getting kind of pathetic.
What was he doing anyway? He hadn't even been in the wrong, and this is what he got? Couldn't Hunter see how much he was willing to change for him? What Shane was willing to do because of how much he cared about the other ranger? He wouldn't put up with this crap for just anybody.
No, Shane did it for Hunter, changed himself for Hunter's benefit, and the guy couldn't even take the freaking time of day to appreciate that and-
And…
Shane slowed down to a halt, slumping against the closest tree so he could cradle his head in both hands, stunned by a sudden understanding.
He had been so caught up in his feelings and Hunter's feelings that he hadn't taken the time to stand back and follow the logic of what he had actually had been doing.
He - Shane Clarke - had greatly, and without concern, adapted himself just so that he could make Hunter happier. So that he could make Hunter more comfortable.
And then when he…when Hunter delivered his unreasonable and, quite frankly, illogical response to this alteration, instead of calling him out on it, or outright refusing it, Shane had accepted it and adapted again, once more for Hunter's benefit.
It was insane. It didn't even make sense, but the air ninja had gone along with it anyway because the only thing he wanted, the only thing he needed, was for Hunter to be happy, regardless of the effects it had on himself.
In short, he cared more about Hunter's happiness more than he cared for his own.
As…odd as it was to admit, Shane knew that was beyond the call of friendship. Allow him to rephrase, that wasn't friendship. That was something else entirely. Shane felt something else entirely for Hunter that had nothing to do with the act of befriending someone and everything to do with being romantically-invested in them.
Holy shit.
He was attracted to Hunter Bradley.
The first laugh sort of barked out of him, clumsy and loud all on its own, and was quickly followed by a flood of uncontrollable laughter. Soon, Shane was clutching his ribs, aching from the sudden assault.
Of course. Of course he would be attracted to Hunter. Of course, he wouldn't question it, didn't truly know why he hadn't seen it before - because it made sense. Why everything seemed to be such higher stakes with him, not because he was the crimson ranger, or that he wasn't like everyone else, it was because he was freaking crazy and Shane somehow loved-
He loved him for it.
He did. As abruptly as the thought had come upon him, Shane couldn't deny its truth. This wasn't an aftereffect of the love potion, this wasn't desperation derived from loneliness, this wasn't a mental breakdown or-
This was him wanting - needing this stupid, damaged person to be happy. To be able to talk to Hunter, to be allowed into his inner sanctum.
Why wasn't he panicking about that? Hunter was a guy. A male. With male bits that were very similar, if not exactly, like his own. To this point, Shane had never desired, nor even subconsciously hinted at wanting to be with a guy, but-
Hell, maybe he was over-thinking this. Or maybe he was under-thinking this to an unnatural extent, but he would like to think…well, a relationship wasn't for looks right? You were supposed to love the inside (so when you both inevitably become old and wrinkly prune skins, that "spark" is always there), so maybe…the inside that he was really fond of, that he really wanted, just happened to be inside another dude.
Was it really just that simple?
Shane thought back onto those euphoric, love-high moments of so long ago and distinctly remembered that the personality, indeed, was what he had focused on. The physical stuff -that was a plus, but the company-
He still couldn't believe how easily he was willing to accept this, but at this point, it was the only logical option. That and, you know, he really cared for the guy.
Funny how you could not notice something for so long, and then after one sudden realization you saw it freaking everywhere. Weird. But-
Damn.
Shane was in love with Hunter Bradley. The stupid, crazy, constant defy-er of social normalities that currently held absolutely no desire to speak to him.
Yet.
Shane smiled, feeling relaxed and satisfied for the first time in a long while.
Everything was going to be okay.
Because Hunter did care about him. He cared enough to stand up for Shane to his brother. And Hunter cared that he cared about the blond in return. Hunter liked hanging out with him (because otherwise he wouldn't bother with him), and while he was…difficult, in the end, all Shane had to do was wait and the blond would come "crawling back", looking as sorry as ever.
The logic seemed to defy most of the behavior that Hunter had exhibited up to this point, but Shane couldn't shake his confidence in the conclusion.
Patience would win the day for this one, he was sure of it.
This passive waiting thing though, it wasn't doing it for him. Nope, now it was time to get proactive. If Hunter didn't want to talk, that was fine, but since Shane finally knew they were cool…
His smile widened, and he rubbed his hands together, giddy with anticipation.
He would put Dustin to shame with his constant babbling. He would hold one-sided conversations until Hunter finally broke down and admitted to the errors of his ways.
And after that…well, Shane would tackle the "after" later. One step at a time.
He was in love with Hunter Bradley.
Damn, he would never hear the end of this from Tori.
Never.
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Endnotes:
It took me until editing these last few chapters back-to-back to realize that Shane and Hunter's paths to discovering their attraction were both a result of realizing 'Hey, I changed for this dude' and then mildly freaking out over the implications of such measures. Just- you go guys. Like, in every other way they are different (opposites attract, yo) but in that one regard, they found each other, and I'm a little proud of past-Paisley for figuring that business out.
Or falling back on an old-standby and not realizing it.
But I'm going for the totally-planned-that-out method of thinking. It's the tiny victories, really.
Until next time.