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schizoauthoressTitle: Even Cuties Have Bad Brainjunk
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: none, this is a "no superheroes" AU
Prompt: Daggerpen on Tumblr prompted me with Jason/Eddie "meeting at a support group au"
Warnings: none, though the boys are attending a depression support group
Word Count: 590
Summary: Eddie doesn't particularly like group therapy, but his weekly support group has an unexpected benefit.
Word of the Day: apophasis, noun: Denial of one's intention to speak of a subject that is at the same time named or insinuated, as “I shall not mention Caesar's avarice, nor his cunning, nor his morality.”
Note: originally posted to Tumblr. and slightly different. I added a sentence here and there for this version.
Even Cuties Have Bad Brainjunk
Eddie Bloomberg chewed on the end of a lock of hair as he watched the others in the support group file in to the small room. A couple of them made a beeline for the big coffee carafes on the table against the wall, but most of them just shuffled into the room and claimed one of the plastic chairs set in a circle. The group leader sat in a chair where he had his back to the door — Eddie was not exactly across from him, because that would draw attention, but about two seats to the left of the chair that was.
He didn’t like coming to these things. But Aunt Marla worried about him, and he felt a little guilty about that. So he went when she asked, because nobody said she had to care about him and for him and yet she did.
Mr. Green, the group leader, was glancing around the room in that way he had which Eddie knew meant he was about to call their meeting to order. He opened his mouth, and Eddie straightened up in his seat —
"Hey. This sucker the depression thing?" the question was asked in the thickest New Jersey accent that Eddie had ever heard (thickest without being fake, which he heard a lot of on the backlot). Everybody looked toward the door, though Eddie ducked his head so as not to be so obvious.
Mr. Green, twisted around in his seat, actually gave the newcomer a once over glance, as if he didn’t like what he saw. So much for being non-judgmental. “Yes,” he said, after a moment, “it is.”
"Well, thank god for that!" the newcomer exclaimed, stepping in to the room. His motorcycle boots came down heavy on the linoleum floor, and Eddie flinched a bit at the heavy tread. "Can’t hardly make heads or tails of the numbering in this building. Not late, am I?"
"No, we were just about to start. Mister…?"
"Jason Todd," he replied, with the barest flicker of a smile toward Mr. Green. He cut across the circle of chairs, coming closer, and Eddie felt his face flame with heat as he realized that one of the few empty chairs was right next to him. Jason kept talking as he walked, explaining, "Visiting my brother, see, and don’t know the good headshrinkers on this coast."
"We’ll see what we can do for you."
Eddie squeaked when Jason shrugged out of the leather jacket he was wearing and draped it over the back of the empty chair. 'Welcome to the gun show,' popped into his head as his gaze swept over the man's broad shoulders and defined arms -- and wow, this guy was cute. Jason paused, and his blue eyes met Eddie’s wide gaze. He raised an eyebrow, and Eddie realized that he still had a mouthful of hair — he blushed even harder and looked away, tugging the lock free.
How embarrassing.
"Hey…." Jason whispered, as Mr. Green started his introductory spiel. Eddie managed to make himself glance at the man, too mortified to do much more. Jason noticed the shift in attention, though, and asked softly, "you got time to grab a bite after this sob circle?"
"Um."
'Oh, nice answer, Bloomberg. Very articulate.'
Sometimes, Eddie hated his brain.
"…if you don’t want to, that’s cool."
"Yes." Wait… Eddie backpedaled, hoping it didn’t sound like he was refusing, "I mean, no. I mean… I could eat."
And Jason actually sounded relieved when he said, “Cool. That’s cool.”
*-*-*-*-*
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: none, this is a "no superheroes" AU
Prompt: Daggerpen on Tumblr prompted me with Jason/Eddie "meeting at a support group au"
Warnings: none, though the boys are attending a depression support group
Word Count: 590
Summary: Eddie doesn't particularly like group therapy, but his weekly support group has an unexpected benefit.
Word of the Day: apophasis, noun: Denial of one's intention to speak of a subject that is at the same time named or insinuated, as “I shall not mention Caesar's avarice, nor his cunning, nor his morality.”
Note: originally posted to Tumblr. and slightly different. I added a sentence here and there for this version.
Even Cuties Have Bad Brainjunk
Eddie Bloomberg chewed on the end of a lock of hair as he watched the others in the support group file in to the small room. A couple of them made a beeline for the big coffee carafes on the table against the wall, but most of them just shuffled into the room and claimed one of the plastic chairs set in a circle. The group leader sat in a chair where he had his back to the door — Eddie was not exactly across from him, because that would draw attention, but about two seats to the left of the chair that was.
He didn’t like coming to these things. But Aunt Marla worried about him, and he felt a little guilty about that. So he went when she asked, because nobody said she had to care about him and for him and yet she did.
Mr. Green, the group leader, was glancing around the room in that way he had which Eddie knew meant he was about to call their meeting to order. He opened his mouth, and Eddie straightened up in his seat —
"Hey. This sucker the depression thing?" the question was asked in the thickest New Jersey accent that Eddie had ever heard (thickest without being fake, which he heard a lot of on the backlot). Everybody looked toward the door, though Eddie ducked his head so as not to be so obvious.
Mr. Green, twisted around in his seat, actually gave the newcomer a once over glance, as if he didn’t like what he saw. So much for being non-judgmental. “Yes,” he said, after a moment, “it is.”
"Well, thank god for that!" the newcomer exclaimed, stepping in to the room. His motorcycle boots came down heavy on the linoleum floor, and Eddie flinched a bit at the heavy tread. "Can’t hardly make heads or tails of the numbering in this building. Not late, am I?"
"No, we were just about to start. Mister…?"
"Jason Todd," he replied, with the barest flicker of a smile toward Mr. Green. He cut across the circle of chairs, coming closer, and Eddie felt his face flame with heat as he realized that one of the few empty chairs was right next to him. Jason kept talking as he walked, explaining, "Visiting my brother, see, and don’t know the good headshrinkers on this coast."
"We’ll see what we can do for you."
Eddie squeaked when Jason shrugged out of the leather jacket he was wearing and draped it over the back of the empty chair. 'Welcome to the gun show,' popped into his head as his gaze swept over the man's broad shoulders and defined arms -- and wow, this guy was cute. Jason paused, and his blue eyes met Eddie’s wide gaze. He raised an eyebrow, and Eddie realized that he still had a mouthful of hair — he blushed even harder and looked away, tugging the lock free.
How embarrassing.
"Hey…." Jason whispered, as Mr. Green started his introductory spiel. Eddie managed to make himself glance at the man, too mortified to do much more. Jason noticed the shift in attention, though, and asked softly, "you got time to grab a bite after this sob circle?"
"Um."
'Oh, nice answer, Bloomberg. Very articulate.'
Sometimes, Eddie hated his brain.
"…if you don’t want to, that’s cool."
"Yes." Wait… Eddie backpedaled, hoping it didn’t sound like he was refusing, "I mean, no. I mean… I could eat."
And Jason actually sounded relieved when he said, “Cool. That’s cool.”
*-*-*-*-*