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monaboyd Apr. 18th, 2005 10:53 pm)
warpedrealityjl.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Apr. 18th, 2005 10:53 pm)Title: 18 Going On 30 (Prologue)
Author: Warpedrealityjl, formerly known as Emily.
Pairing: Monaboyd, duh!
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17.
Summary: WIP. AU set in Glasgow. Billy is an eighteen year old father of a two year old daughter with whom he became pregnant at the tender age of fifteen. Dom and his family move into the tower block flat accross the corridor from Billy. Plotiness ensues- but it's not as cliched as it looks, really, I promise.
Warning: Mpreg without scientific intervention. Angst (of course) and...well, a whole other bunch of warnings that I'll post when I get to them. Oh- also, the opinions expressed in this post are the opinions of the characters only. I will express no view on the topic of abortion or adoption. This is fiction, but with real issues at the core. Thanks.
Disclaimer: Since...men can't get pregnant and...Billy and Dom aren't the same age...I don't think I actually need to put 'this isn't true'. But I will anyway: This. Ain't. True.
Feedback: Great stuff! Makes for better fic in future. Also- Cookies on offer for it! So roll-up roll-up I say!
Author’s Notes: You know when plotbunnies round up all your braincells and threaten to eat them all alive if they don't co-operate and give every ounce of their time to writing the bunnie out nice? Yeah *sigh*. This *points to fic* is the product of that *points to aforesaid rounding up and threatening of braincells*. Beta'ed by the lovely and so good-at-it: honey_babes (I don't know how to do lj tags honey, sorry).
18 Going On 30
“Fuck...fuck...no...fucking...no!”
A toilet cubicle wall connects with a fifteen-year-old Billy’s fist as he screams the eternal prayer of the truly distraught- “fuck!“- and holds the pregnancy test in his hand, fighting back tears. It is coloured pink. He thinks it ironic and bitterly fitting that pink and positive both start with a ‘p’.
---
“Who’s the father?”
Billy looks down, he wants his mum, he wants his dad, this is just too much for him to deal with, it’s too much. His Grandmother sits opposite him, struggling to maintain her composure, he can tell it’s a struggle by the way her pale lips remain set in a firm line as the muscles in her neck tighten. His sister watches from her bedroom door. He tries to say it- but he can’t quite force the words past the lump in his throat and every muscle in his body is tense and vibrating as if he is ready to get up and flee the place at any second. Get away. Just- God, get away. All that comes out is a kind of whoosh of breath. His guardian takes a deep breath and tries again.
“Billy, who’s the father?”
The fifteen-year-old swallows hard, and tries to speak again. Billy knows she’s not going to like this, and he knows she won’t be angry, she’ll be disappointed, that’s so much worse. Fuck.
“Uh...Idoan...Idoanknoh...”
Well that was really fucking coherent, wasn’t it? He screams internally as she has to ask again.
“What?”
“I- I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know”
She stares at him for a moment, lips pursed tight but eyes giving every emotion away- a mix of shock, anger, and sadness. The worst is still the disappointment.
“What- do you mean you don’t know?” She asks it so slowly, so tentatively, like she is afraid of the answer.
The room has suddenly become so very still, like the whole tower block is waiting with baited breath. Like the world has stopped turning.
“I don’t know...it- he could be one of- of about five...maybe more I- I don’t know! I’m sorry I just...” She stands up and moves shakily to lean against the door frame to the kitchen- she always leans there when she is thinking, or at times like this, when she doesn’t know what to think. She swallows and presses the back of her right hand to her forehead, shaking her head just slightly. Billy trails off when he realizes he has absolutely no idea what he can say now. Somehow, sorry just doesn’t quite cut it. He’s fifteen. His life will never be the same again from this point onward. His education, his social life, his career options. Right now all of that seems ruined. He’s going to have a child. He will never fall in love, he will never make his family proud. To put it bluntly, he thinks- he’s screwed, and in a way- although he hates himself for thinking it- he’s glad his parents aren’t here to see this.
“I’m sorry...” he repeats in a whisper, a tear tracking down his cheek. Just one. He angrily wipes it away. When he looks up her lips are set so strong, in such a thin line, he can’t help but feel a little afraid. Folding his arms across his stomach he vaguely wonders if by doing that he’s protecting it- the seed that’s inside and has changed everything.
When his grandmother speaks, she almost hisses.
“How could you let this happen?”
How could he let this happen?
A simple question but it hits him like a ton of bricks, and within seconds of it he’s shaking as he fights off the tears with everything he has.
How could I let this happen? He thinks. But he didn’t know- he didn’t know. He wishes he had an answer but he doesn’t. And he feels so naive now but for some stupid reason it never occurred to him that sleeping with some- some random man when it meant nothing, when they weren’t trying for a child- could come to this. It’s not like anyone ever taught him otherwise.
He wonders if a child conceived by alcohol and stupid reckless lust can ever be happy, can ever come to any good. He wonders whether it would hurt the child to die now- when it is so tiny and unformed. He quickly shakes that thought away. He can’t do that. He has seen too much death already; he won’t be the cause of another.
He swallows hard and takes a sharp breath.
“I...don’t...”
He trails off again and shrugs weakly, face twisting with the effort not to cry, bent over in the seat.
“You don’t know.” She huffs out a short laugh, anger showing for the first time in what seems to Billy like forever. “I assume you’re not going to terminate?”
“No,” he whispers. For that is so suddenly certain. No, he can’t. Other people could but he can’t.
“Then…adoption...”
Billy frowns and chokes out a “No” that he didn’t realize was coming past the growing lump in his throat. He hears Maggie gasp a little in the doorway. He’s not looking at his Gran but he can almost feel her frown from where he sits. He hasn’t thought much about giving the baby up or not but the knot in his stomach all but makes the decision for him.
“No, I- I don’t want to…I want to keep it.”
“Billy...I don’t think you’re quite understanding how hard this will be. This isn’t a dog or a cat, this is a baern, and later a child, and then a teenager the same age you are now. And always you have to be there. Always you have to be Dad, and Mum at the same time because you’ll be the only one looking after it! You can’t go back to school. You can’t just pick up where you left off! You’re fifteen for God’s sakes!”
“I can’t just drop it, though! What would that be? I’m not a fucking coward and I’m not leaving it without real parents!”
For once she doesn’t tell him to watch his language, and when he lifts his eyes she is staring at him with an expression of either shock or admiration, he has no idea which and he thinks he’d rather not know.
“Billy...” She looks so tired all of a sudden, every crease and line and wrinkle seeming to deepen around her eyes as she sighs and shakes her head again. Worn hand coming up to her forehead to massage very slightly. She seems to shrink in the doorway. “I...ah. You need to think about this. Just- please- no spur of the moment decisions, this isn’t just your problem. You should go to bed, it’s late...we’ll- we’ll talk in the morning”.
She seems to run out of energy after that, and sighs, drifting off into the kitchen; he thinks she has probably gone to make a cup of tea and calm herself down a bit. On that note, he thinks, he really needs a fag, and almost goes outside to light up. Then remembers, that’s not going to happen for nine months.
Maggie’s voice drifts from the doorway, breaks his thoughts, shatters them, in fact, and he’s pretty sure that after this he’s going to be scrambling to put them back together again.
“Whose is it really?”
“I don’t know...go to bed, Maggie”
“How can you not know whose it is?”
Billy exhales a deep breath and counts to ten.
“Maggie. I don’t know whose it is, alright?”
“How many people must you have had sex with not to know?”
Counting to twenty...
“Enough, Maggie. Obviously, enough that I’m in this mess now. Alright? You heard what I said now just...go to bed, please.”
“Urgh, you’re such a slut Billy. Mum and Dad would be so disappointed-”
“Shut- the fuck up Margaret! Don’t you dare use them against me you fucking little...Argh!. Fuck you-”
“I’m not the one who got myself-”
“Fuck. You.”
Seconds after he slams his bedroom door behind him he is face down on the bed and crying, finally letting it all out and sobbing until his throat is raw and his lungs exhausted. How can he move on from this? He doesn’t think he can.
He falls asleep for the first time in a week and three days to dreams of watching his baby be taken away from him again and again, taken away in the arms of strangers, and he’s screaming that he wants to keep it but nobody is listening to him- nobody cares, and all the time he’s thinking ‘Mum and Dad would be so disappointed in me’.
Next Chapter
Author: Warpedrealityjl, formerly known as Emily.
Pairing: Monaboyd, duh!
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17.
Summary: WIP. AU set in Glasgow. Billy is an eighteen year old father of a two year old daughter with whom he became pregnant at the tender age of fifteen. Dom and his family move into the tower block flat accross the corridor from Billy. Plotiness ensues- but it's not as cliched as it looks, really, I promise.
Warning: Mpreg without scientific intervention. Angst (of course) and...well, a whole other bunch of warnings that I'll post when I get to them. Oh- also, the opinions expressed in this post are the opinions of the characters only. I will express no view on the topic of abortion or adoption. This is fiction, but with real issues at the core. Thanks.
Disclaimer: Since...men can't get pregnant and...Billy and Dom aren't the same age...I don't think I actually need to put 'this isn't true'. But I will anyway: This. Ain't. True.
Feedback: Great stuff! Makes for better fic in future. Also- Cookies on offer for it! So roll-up roll-up I say!
Author’s Notes: You know when plotbunnies round up all your braincells and threaten to eat them all alive if they don't co-operate and give every ounce of their time to writing the bunnie out nice? Yeah *sigh*. This *points to fic* is the product of that *points to aforesaid rounding up and threatening of braincells*. Beta'ed by the lovely and so good-at-it: honey_babes (I don't know how to do lj tags honey, sorry).
“Fuck...fuck...no...fucking...no!”
A toilet cubicle wall connects with a fifteen-year-old Billy’s fist as he screams the eternal prayer of the truly distraught- “fuck!“- and holds the pregnancy test in his hand, fighting back tears. It is coloured pink. He thinks it ironic and bitterly fitting that pink and positive both start with a ‘p’.
---
“Who’s the father?”
Billy looks down, he wants his mum, he wants his dad, this is just too much for him to deal with, it’s too much. His Grandmother sits opposite him, struggling to maintain her composure, he can tell it’s a struggle by the way her pale lips remain set in a firm line as the muscles in her neck tighten. His sister watches from her bedroom door. He tries to say it- but he can’t quite force the words past the lump in his throat and every muscle in his body is tense and vibrating as if he is ready to get up and flee the place at any second. Get away. Just- God, get away. All that comes out is a kind of whoosh of breath. His guardian takes a deep breath and tries again.
“Billy, who’s the father?”
The fifteen-year-old swallows hard, and tries to speak again. Billy knows she’s not going to like this, and he knows she won’t be angry, she’ll be disappointed, that’s so much worse. Fuck.
“Uh...Idoan...Idoanknoh...”
Well that was really fucking coherent, wasn’t it? He screams internally as she has to ask again.
“What?”
“I- I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know”
She stares at him for a moment, lips pursed tight but eyes giving every emotion away- a mix of shock, anger, and sadness. The worst is still the disappointment.
“What- do you mean you don’t know?” She asks it so slowly, so tentatively, like she is afraid of the answer.
The room has suddenly become so very still, like the whole tower block is waiting with baited breath. Like the world has stopped turning.
“I don’t know...it- he could be one of- of about five...maybe more I- I don’t know! I’m sorry I just...” She stands up and moves shakily to lean against the door frame to the kitchen- she always leans there when she is thinking, or at times like this, when she doesn’t know what to think. She swallows and presses the back of her right hand to her forehead, shaking her head just slightly. Billy trails off when he realizes he has absolutely no idea what he can say now. Somehow, sorry just doesn’t quite cut it. He’s fifteen. His life will never be the same again from this point onward. His education, his social life, his career options. Right now all of that seems ruined. He’s going to have a child. He will never fall in love, he will never make his family proud. To put it bluntly, he thinks- he’s screwed, and in a way- although he hates himself for thinking it- he’s glad his parents aren’t here to see this.
“I’m sorry...” he repeats in a whisper, a tear tracking down his cheek. Just one. He angrily wipes it away. When he looks up her lips are set so strong, in such a thin line, he can’t help but feel a little afraid. Folding his arms across his stomach he vaguely wonders if by doing that he’s protecting it- the seed that’s inside and has changed everything.
When his grandmother speaks, she almost hisses.
“How could you let this happen?”
How could he let this happen?
A simple question but it hits him like a ton of bricks, and within seconds of it he’s shaking as he fights off the tears with everything he has.
How could I let this happen? He thinks. But he didn’t know- he didn’t know. He wishes he had an answer but he doesn’t. And he feels so naive now but for some stupid reason it never occurred to him that sleeping with some- some random man when it meant nothing, when they weren’t trying for a child- could come to this. It’s not like anyone ever taught him otherwise.
He wonders if a child conceived by alcohol and stupid reckless lust can ever be happy, can ever come to any good. He wonders whether it would hurt the child to die now- when it is so tiny and unformed. He quickly shakes that thought away. He can’t do that. He has seen too much death already; he won’t be the cause of another.
He swallows hard and takes a sharp breath.
“I...don’t...”
He trails off again and shrugs weakly, face twisting with the effort not to cry, bent over in the seat.
“You don’t know.” She huffs out a short laugh, anger showing for the first time in what seems to Billy like forever. “I assume you’re not going to terminate?”
“No,” he whispers. For that is so suddenly certain. No, he can’t. Other people could but he can’t.
“Then…adoption...”
Billy frowns and chokes out a “No” that he didn’t realize was coming past the growing lump in his throat. He hears Maggie gasp a little in the doorway. He’s not looking at his Gran but he can almost feel her frown from where he sits. He hasn’t thought much about giving the baby up or not but the knot in his stomach all but makes the decision for him.
“No, I- I don’t want to…I want to keep it.”
“Billy...I don’t think you’re quite understanding how hard this will be. This isn’t a dog or a cat, this is a baern, and later a child, and then a teenager the same age you are now. And always you have to be there. Always you have to be Dad, and Mum at the same time because you’ll be the only one looking after it! You can’t go back to school. You can’t just pick up where you left off! You’re fifteen for God’s sakes!”
“I can’t just drop it, though! What would that be? I’m not a fucking coward and I’m not leaving it without real parents!”
For once she doesn’t tell him to watch his language, and when he lifts his eyes she is staring at him with an expression of either shock or admiration, he has no idea which and he thinks he’d rather not know.
“Billy...” She looks so tired all of a sudden, every crease and line and wrinkle seeming to deepen around her eyes as she sighs and shakes her head again. Worn hand coming up to her forehead to massage very slightly. She seems to shrink in the doorway. “I...ah. You need to think about this. Just- please- no spur of the moment decisions, this isn’t just your problem. You should go to bed, it’s late...we’ll- we’ll talk in the morning”.
She seems to run out of energy after that, and sighs, drifting off into the kitchen; he thinks she has probably gone to make a cup of tea and calm herself down a bit. On that note, he thinks, he really needs a fag, and almost goes outside to light up. Then remembers, that’s not going to happen for nine months.
Maggie’s voice drifts from the doorway, breaks his thoughts, shatters them, in fact, and he’s pretty sure that after this he’s going to be scrambling to put them back together again.
“Whose is it really?”
“I don’t know...go to bed, Maggie”
“How can you not know whose it is?”
Billy exhales a deep breath and counts to ten.
“Maggie. I don’t know whose it is, alright?”
“How many people must you have had sex with not to know?”
Counting to twenty...
“Enough, Maggie. Obviously, enough that I’m in this mess now. Alright? You heard what I said now just...go to bed, please.”
“Urgh, you’re such a slut Billy. Mum and Dad would be so disappointed-”
“Shut- the fuck up Margaret! Don’t you dare use them against me you fucking little...Argh!. Fuck you-”
“I’m not the one who got myself-”
“Fuck. You.”
Seconds after he slams his bedroom door behind him he is face down on the bed and crying, finally letting it all out and sobbing until his throat is raw and his lungs exhausted. How can he move on from this? He doesn’t think he can.
He falls asleep for the first time in a week and three days to dreams of watching his baby be taken away from him again and again, taken away in the arms of strangers, and he’s screaming that he wants to keep it but nobody is listening to him- nobody cares, and all the time he’s thinking ‘Mum and Dad would be so disappointed in me’.
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From:
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can't wait for more!
From:
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It is quite interesting isn't it? The plotbunny thwapped me, thwapped me bad *looks traumatised*
Here *hands you British cookies and nice Scottish highland milk*
Not that milk you perve! *eye roll*
;) Spankyou again for the niceness
From:
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Here, have some Highland Milk and British Cookies =D
More on the way!
From:
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From:
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More on the way and thanks muchly =)
From:
no subject
I'm sorry *glues heart together again* there =))
Thankyou for being a lovely Beta *beams*
From:
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From:
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*Cookies and Milk all rouuund*
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From:
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I just find Billy more naturally angsty as a kid than Dom...with all he had to go through in RL *tear for Billy*. Dom had it quite good at that age as far as we know so I thought I'd go with the most angsty- because I am THAT evil!
Next chapter on the way =)
*Feeds you cookies and highland milk for such lovely feedback*
From:
no subject
Mmmm... Yumms!
And I totally agree with you! I think Billy had a more angsty life than Dom as a kid as well... And do you reaalize it's hard to find a good angsty fic about Billy because most of the time it's Dom who's a mess and it's always Billy who has to play the savior? Not that there shouldn't be angst about Dom... it's just there's so much of that! I want to read more Billy!angst for a change.
I'm glad I finally found another rare Billy-angst person! Yay!
*gives you cake and icream in return for being said rare person*
From:
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From:
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*Much milk and cookie-ness*
LOVE your icon btw. LOVE IT.
From:
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From:
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Ahem. Ehm.
Thankyou! *Salutes right back*
Here have some British Cookies and while your at it how about some Highland Milk? Yes? Here you go *pours you a glass*
*Beams*
From:
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From:
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Next installment on the way!
*Feeds you Cookies and Milk*
From:
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From:
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More on the way!
*Feeds Milk and Cookies*
From:
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but thanks for the cookies. *munches*
From:
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=)
From:
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