Okay back for the second part here it's an extremely confused Randy, and an oblivious Brad
Sorry it took me so long, Randy's real hard to write for, Mark is a lot easier believe me, well I guess it helps that Mark seems to have taken residence in my head as a muse
Disclaimer – not mine.
Other notes – oh yea and thanks to the reviewer who pointed out Mark does karate I completely forgot about that thanks and I love ya and thanks to all my reviewers you're beautiful beautiful people. Lisa, Ally, Khassa, Adam, Bunny, mmjessie, Amy and Cyn.
On with the chapter!
"He thinks I hate him? Where did that come from? Stop with the rhetorical questions Randy." See I'm talking to myself, I'm confusing myself, and hey people call me smart!
Sure I've always kinda dismissed Mark as always-there annoying yes, but hating him? No way. He's my brother; once I thought I hated Brad but that was cuz he always called me a midget or a shrimp.
That hurt, y'know being picked on so why the hell do I give Mark so much grief? Maybe I'm mad at Brad. No that's not it, wow you know for the fact that we've got a psychiatrist for a mom we're pretty fucked up, there is always dads influence I guess, he has a tendency to mess up most things Moms put together.
Okay I've been standing here in the kitchen staring off into space now for five minutes time to move methinks. Oh yeah I wanted a drink, right… One thing though has been bothering me though he tired to slug me. Yeah normal in this situation but not for Mark. He does karate he shoulda karate chopped me or something, but he didn't. Wow he was really pissed of at me, to even forget basic training like that? He loves karate. Big time.
"It doesn't make any sense…" Is what my head keeps telling me, that none of this could possibly be my fault that Marks just messed up and that can't be my fault. But my heart knows it is, that between Brad and I, we messed him up. And pretty good too.
Then the part of my mind, the part that refuses blind to give Mark a break pipes up - that he's only fourteen, okay nearly fifteen I've only been picking on him for a maximum of six maybe seven years, I've had Brad on my back since I was five that's twelve years, double his score. Maybe he was weak all along, a wuss if you will.
But then the other part of me, the part that mostly deals with how I feel about Lauren and mom and dad, some might say the nice part of me. Insert cynical barking laugh here. Well that part of me says it isn't his fault he's always been sensitive, a lot more than Brad and me. Now there's an oxymoron "Brad" and "sensitive"? I don't think so…
Then the mean, nasty, non-human part of me that Lauren says isn't much like me at all, says fuck it, forget about it, and Marks a lost cause anyway.
I don't like that part of me much either.
"Hey earth to Randy! Randy! Randy William Taylor anybody there? Great I got a vegetable for a son. Hey Hello."
"Ah!" I yelped, that is truly frightening coming out of my disturbed subconscious to find my dad waving hi hand in front of my face repeating my name over and over.
"Phew, I thought you'd had your brain stolen by some strange species of alien camel." He answered relieved.
I quirked an eyebrow at him and said, "Dad that is without a doubt the most bizarre thing I've ever heard." Picking my backpack up off the floor and tossing it onto the couch I continued, "Have you been using the superglue again y'know the fumes on that are pretty powerful."
"Very amusing, no, no, I'm not high, say where's your brother?"
A/N Sorry it's so short I'll do another in Randys POV later but I've discovered he's one of the hardest characters I've ever had to write for, the next chapter picks up from right here in Tim's POV.
Mark – "Great ::mutters:: why do I get the feeling I'm the bad guy in this fic?"
Me – "You're not, it's just I like Randy more than you, I always have."
Mark – "Gee thanks"
Me – "Hey don't get sarcastic with me, or I'll write a mushy one between Tim and Jill"
Mark – "You wouldn't"
Me – "Try me"
Mark – "….."
Me – "thank-you"
