Warnings: AU, Slash (Stone Cold Steve Austin/CM Punk), Fluff
"So this is the place?" The boy sounds utterly unimpressed as they turn down the dirt track towards the big old Ranch house, and Jim holds back a sigh. He'd been told this one would be loud, would be trouble, but he's been damn near mute since he picked him up, and took him on the plane. Though, if he's honest he'd been expecting silence based on his file. This kid's been through the wringer, and now he's being sent so far from home, but he'll be safe here. This time at Steve's Ranch will be good for him, Jim's sure of that.
"It is." Jim nods, fishing his cell out of his pocket, and handing it to the boy. "Do me a favour, and send a message to let them know we're on our way."
"To who?" The boy takes the phone, eyeing it warily, like he's expecting it to bite him or something.
"Steve." Jim answers; the only reply from the boy is the sound of a message being written. The boy taps Jim's arm with the phone when the message is sent, and Jim pockets it once more. "So... Are you excited?" The boy shrugs, rubbing his eyes, and yawning. Jim had wanted to get to the Ranch a lot earlier, but the flight had gotten delayed, so there's nothing much to be done about. They're nearly there now, and that's the main thing.
As they pull up, to the house, the kid stares. The windows are lit up against the dark, Steve's truck parked off to one side, looking like it's just been washed recently, the flowers bright and cheerful in their beds. The Ranch looks good, welcoming, homely.
"C'mon then, let's get you inside." Jim moves to take the boy's bag, but he clings to it, his eyes narrowed slightly. Jim shakes his head, and ambles up to the front door, knocking on it sharply, then opening it wide. "Anyone home?" He calls, and an old woman appears, leaning on a cane, her face wrinkled, her eyes still bird of prey sharp despite her advancing years.
"Jim Ross... Well, I do believe you, sir, are late." The old woman laughs, and the boy shrinks behind Jim slightly. "Ah, you must be the new arrival... Where are-"
"Jon?" Steve appears suddenly, flour on his cheek, a smile on his face, and a little dark-haired girl half hiding behind him, her hand tangled in his shirt. The boy nods, and Jim smiles awkwardly at his old friend. "You're just in time for your welcome cake." The little girl lets go of Steve's shirt, and comes over to the boy.
"C'mon, we've been working on it for a while." She offers her hand to the boy, and he looks at it dubiously for a few seconds. When he doesn't take it, the girl drops her hand, and waves him along with her as she heads to the kitchen.
"He give you any trouble?" Steve asks, taking Jim's coat, and hanging it on the rack. Age has been kind to Steve, especially now that he's pushing fifty. The lines around his eyes are a little deeper, but all in all, he doesn't look much different to the man he'd first met years ago.
"Not a drop... He reminds me of-"
"I know." Steve smiles slightly, a distant look in his eyes, and a small smile on his lips. Loud laughter comes from the kitchen, and the excited yelping of a dog. "I think we should go make sure everything's still in one piece."
"I'll leave this to you men. I've got a call with my granddaughter. I'll be down as quick as I can." The Owl starts for the stairs to her room, and Jim awkwardly hovers near her. "I might need this cane to get around, but I'm more than capable of climbing the stairs, Jim." She mutters, climbing them with surprising speed.
"I swear, that woman... She's immortal." Jim laughs, and Steve nods, leading the way to the kitchen.
"Well, I can only hope so." Steve laughs, and pauses in the doorway of the kitchen, taking in the scene before them. The new arrival, Jon, is sitting nervously in a chair beside another boy his own age give or take a few months.
"Hello Colby." Jim moves past Steve, and takes his usual seat opposite Colby, but beside little April.
"Mr Ross, it's nice to see you." Colby smiles awkwardly. He's not the most sociable child, quiet and little nervous, but he's slowly coming out of his shell. In a few more months, he'll more than likely be as lively as April is, a girl who despite being nearly fourteen has a tendency to act as young as she looks.
"How's the assignment coming?" Jim smiles at the groan Colby lets out, his face buried in his arms.
"Don't mind him, it's getting there. Alls he needs to do is the work." The voice that comes from behind Jim is overly amused, and despite having lived in Texas for a good ten years still slightly tinged with a Mid-West accent.
"Phil." Jim nods to the man who takes a seat at one end of the table once he sets a cake down in front of Jon. It's strange how much Jon reminds Jim of Phil when he'd first come to the Steve's Ranch. That first night, Phil had been nervous, and so very tired. The kind of bone-deep exhaustion that only comes from having fought for longer than you can really handle. The year he'd spent as Steve's charge had been good for him, had brought him out of his shell, gotten him his fight back. The performance he'd given in the courtroom at his parents' trial had been impressive, and more than likely ensured their lengthy sentences. Once Phil had graduated high school, he'd started university in the closest city to the Ranch, heading back there as often as he could. It'd made Jim uncomfortable at first, had led to him and Steve having a slight slobberknocker over Jim's suspicions that maybe Steve hadn't been entirely above board with Phil whilst he was Phil's guardian. It'd taken Phil intervening, and explaining the whole story to him to make Jim apologise. Whilst Phil had been in university, Jim had watched the pair grow closer still, watched Steve clearly fall as deeply in love with Phil as he had been with his long since deceased wife. Jim had known Phil had a crush on Steve from almost his second visit to the Ranch, but over time, he watched that crush evolve into love, from the sweet infatuation of a child, to the earnest attraction of a teenager, to the mellow and rich love of an adult.
"You remember a knife for Jon, Punkster?" Steve's voice cuts through Jim's thoughts dragging him back into the present.
"Knife?" Phil shakes his head, and Steve wanders past him, dropping a kiss to the top of his head on the way to the knife block.
"I swear, you'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on." Steve mutters, and Jim meets young Jon's eye. The boy looks between Phil, and Steve, his eyes wide with surprise, and then back to Jim. "Here you go, if you'd like to serve." Steve sets the knife down by Jon's cake, and takes a seat opposite Phil.
"You're dating?" Jon asks Steve suddenly, but his eyes are fixated on Phil. "You are dating him?" He points at first Steve, and then Phil.
"I'm married to him." Phil flashes his wedding ring, and Jon's eyes widen even more. The little ring around Phil's finger is a matt grey, thin but obvious. Jim can remember Steve fussing over choosing it, wanting it to be perfect for Phil. Their wedding had been simple, little more than a contract signing with some fancy words, then a party with the people they loved. Phil's family had come down from Chicago; his best friend had walked Phil down the aisle, and given what was the most rambling father of the bride speech ever. Despite the smallness, and the simplicity of the whole thing, Jim can feel tears budding in his eyes at the memory of it. He's seen more than a few weddings, but there's only two he's cried at, his own, and Steve and Phil's.
"How?" Jon mumbles, and beside him, Colby laughs.
"I know, right?" Jon turns his attention to the boy beside him. "I mean Steve's a super nice guy, and Phil's the meanest English teacher in the world. There should be laws against you teaching your own kids." He mutters, and Jon shakes his head.
"No, I me-"
"I'm so devilishly handsome, and Phil's kind of plain?" Steve laughs from his seat, winking at the indignation that flits over Phil's face. Jim's used to this kind of banter by now. At first it'd troubled him to see his long-term, and dearly loved friend so very much in love with a man, a significantly younger man at that, but now it's common place to Jim, as ordinary as waking up in the morning.
"Plain?" Phil snaps, his eyes narrowed. "You see how plain I am when me and Cookie are enjoying the bed, and you're on the couch tonight." At the sound of her name, the dog that'd been sleeping in the basket in the corner of the room comes padding over. "Your papa is a mean, terrible man, my little lady. You're gonna sleep with your dad tonight."
"Now, Punkster... Let's not be too hasty. It was a joke." Steve's pleading, and even Jon's joining in with laughing at his ridiculously contrite expression, and Phil's haughty ignoring of him.
"I kind of meant that there's like a long time between you... And, well... You kind of outkicked your coverage." Jon mutters quietly as he looks at Steve, earning a self-satisfied laugh from Phil.
"Well... I did a little, but Phil's horrible at football." Steve chuckles, and Jon looks relieved to have not caused offence.
"It's true..." Phil nods, sipping from the cup of tea in front of him. "Now, if you wanna make baseball or hockey analogies, I'm all over that." He smiles, and Jon nods slightly, smiling back. The boy's already relaxing, already he seems more at ease, and Jim's' certain that's down to how Steve and Phil are with the new arrivals. They always make sure to welcome them with cake, and then let them do what they have to. If they need someone there, then one of them will be there, if they need space, then they get space, but the first thing that happens is they're shown that they're highly anticipated, and warmly welcomed. It's a good system Steve and Phil have, one that's been perfected over the years.
"So, can we please have some cake? I'm hungry." April chips in suddenly. She's an odd little thing, but like Colby, and like all the other kids before her, slowly becoming more confident, more like the person she should be.
"I cut it?" Jon asks, fingering the knife nervously, starting to slice the cake when no one voices an objection. "Who wants first slice?" He offers the piece of cake around.
"The first slice is yours." Phil pats his shoulder gently, a kind smile on his lips. "Welcome home." Steve echoes Phil's sentiment, and Jim nods at the slight shock on Jon's face. The boy had absently said that he didn't expect to be out at this Ranch for long, that it'll be like every other place where they take him in, and then decide to throw him back out, but Jim knows that won't happen here. He knows because every child he's brought here has found a home. This Ranch has been a long and short term home to so many children. Jon hands the second slice to Phil, which he accepts, a smirk on his lips as he takes a bite from it.
"C'mon Punkster, share." Steve mutters, a put-on putout pout on his face. Phil rolls his eyes, and snags his plate as he goes over to perch on Steve's lap. The Owl appears to take the seat Phil just vacated, her sharp eyes darting around the table, and a small smile on her lips.
"Honestly... Those two are children." She shakes her head at Steve and Phil's antics, then turns to Jon, her smile getting bigger. The boy's one of the creative types, and the old Owl has long been keen to get started on moulding his creativity. "Now, Jon... I'm Mrs Davis. I'd like to talk to about your art grades." Jim smiles at the old woman already drawing Jon into the conversation he'd failed to have with the boy the whole way to the Ranch. Beside him, April is talking rapid to Colby, who's arguing his counter-point with indulgent amusement more than anything. It's an odd little collection of people assembled around the table, but Jim supposes that's to be expected. This Ranch has always been a refuge for the unwanted, and the damaged.
Jim shakes his head as he watches Phil absently feeding little bits of cake to Steve, a smile on his face that's utterly unlike the timid nervousness he'd first worn when he'd arrived at the Ranch a good ten years ago. Ten years where a lot has happened, a lot has changed, and it's all for the better. The Phil of ten years ago is gone, but then again the Steve of ten years ago is gone too. The relationship between them is a two-way street, though not one Jim had ever expected for them to go down. If he'd known ten years ago, he'd be bringing kids to Steve and Phil's home, he'd have possibly never taken Phil to Steve in the first place, but he'd known that Steve needed Phil, and that Phil needed Steve. At the time, he hadn't realised how much, or for how long they'd need each other, but he can't say he minds being an accidental matchmaker. He's always known which people would need each other, and with Steve and Phil, there's no one either of them need quite like their husband.
Many thanks to the ladies and gentlemen who reviewed:
plebs, Lucien Raven Jacobs, AshJoivillette, Guest, Rebellecherry, littleone1389, and Shiki94.
This is this story done. Thank you for all the kind words, indulgence, and patience that you've shown with it. There's a little side fic in the works of Steve and Punk's first time for those of you who were interested in some full blown smut between them (will be posted on 2015/03/31), but other than that, we're done here. Thank you.
Please review - it means a lot more than you realise.