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We are currently in week 4 of DECEMBER, 2012. (18/12 - 24/12) School is finally out for the Winter Holidays and Christmas is finally so near. Happy Christmas Eve!
New week begins on 3/09/12 real time.
so THIS CITY IS AT WAR! is skinned by BECKY/HOLLYWOOD SUPERSTAR SHIA LABEOUF, edited with permission by reese, graphics by misha. tabbed sidebar is credit to KISMET at RPG-D. images to their respective owners. plot and content, by the staff and members. everything that isn't obviously ours, probably isn't either.
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The moment Wes rolled out of bed, he knew that today was one of what he would call his Good Days. There were no lingering spasms of pain in his chest, or difficulty in movement. Instead, he woke up feeling refreshed and (dare he say it?) energetic. Since last summer, he often woke with a sense of dread looming over him, wondering if today his heart would just collapse on him.
Areena Lingstrom quirked a brow upon watching her son’s upbeat disposition as he ambled to the breakfast nook, but paid it little mind. Wes was not a brooder, and she really wouldn’t be surprised if he had already accepted the quite drastic changes in his life in stride. The boy always did her proud.
Wes walked over to his mother and gave her a light peck on the cheek. “Morning, ma.”
“You’re cheerful today.” His mother pointed out.
“Well, Bri asked me out on a date.” Wes replied wth a cheecky grin as he took a seat in the booth. What he said wasn’t true. Two days ago, Bri had begrudgingly asked for his help cleaning up their attic. Totally smitten and bored, Wes had immediately agreed.
His mother looked amused, but skeptical. “She did?”
Wes laughed, a bit unnerved that his mother could see through him so well. “No, not really." he admitted sheepishly. "We’re just cleaning her attic. And I mean that in the most non-sexual way possible.” he continued as he stuffed more bacon into his mouth.
Eager to see the girl who made him embarrassingly head over heels in love, he wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and bid Areena a harried farewell and tossed out a promise to make dinner that night.
It was a bit of a drive to the Percy residence, so Wes decided on an early start to beat the traffic. He glanced at his watch: it was still a meager 8 AM. Brianna would probably still be sleeping off the nasty hangover she got from last night’s alcohol binge.
Thinking about the girl’s nasty habit made a muscle in Wesley’s jaw tick. Just fifteen years old and Bri was already an alcoholic. It wasn’t right. He understood that she was going through a lot, but there was no way she was helping herself by drowning her sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol. Wesley understood the psychology of it, but he didn’t necessarily agree with it. He wished she would just let him in; let him help her. Wes was confident that he could fix Bri if she just gave him a chance.
Shaking his head as if dispelling the negative thoughts, Wes made quick work of maneuvering through the fairly hectic traffic of up town New York. Next thing he knew, he was parked in front of the pretty house that hid the broken, haunted Percy family.
He bent up to pick up the spare key that he frequently used when Mikey was still alive. Glumly, Wes remembered all the times he had been to this house, spending lazy afternoons and fun-filled evenings with Mikey and Bri. The Percy family had been happy then, unmarred by the ugliness of grief.
He entered that same house and felt the omnipresent gloom as he crossed the threshold. He knew that Mrs. Percy would be home all day; ergo Bri had been desperate enough to seek his company. Mrs. Percy loved Wes, and he returned the sentiment. He just wished that she would lay off Bri a bit.
“Hey, Mrs. P!” Wes greeted, hoping that the cheer in his voice didn’t sound too forced. He really did love the woman who used to be like a second mother to him.
Mrs. Percy turned to him with a small smile, just as strained as his enthusiasm. “Good morning, Wesley.” She returned, a confused look crossing her face. She was probably wondering why he was here, of all times. Mike wasn’t alive anymore, anyway.
Unsure of himself, Wes rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, Bri asked me for a hand cleaning up the attic.” He explained.
Mrs. Percy nodded sadly, before turning back to the TV. “She’s upstairs, still in bed. Hungover again.” Bitterness seeped into her tone like poison. Wes’ hand clenched into a fist. He couldn’t stand the coldness in her voice, as if she was talking about a lame dog she wished dead. Mothers had no business giving up on their children.
Nodding and not trusting himself to speak, Wesley turned to climb up the stairs with the intent of giving Bri a wakeup call. He stopped in his tracks when he heard the older woman’s voice call out to him.
“You know you’re always welcome here, right Wes?” she asked. “Even now that Mikey's gone.”
“Yes,” Wes answered shortly, ascending the carpeted stairs at once.
That’s more welcome than you give your daughter. he thought tartly.
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Bri had infact drank last night, but she was more cautious than usual. She knew she had asked Wesley to come over, something she almost immediately regretted. He was such a pain in the ass at the worst of times, but she really did need help with the attic. He knew just as well as she did what was important and what they could throw away, he'd be the best help she could get. He knew her family, and her house as well as anyone did. His help, she begrudgingly admitted, would be the best help she could possibly get. Bri knew he'd be over early, he did shit like that just to spite her. She was sure of it, so she drank enough to get drunk but not be in bad shape the next day.
Stumbling in from the party she had cleaned up after her mother in the kitchen and living room then went up to bed. She made sure to set an alarm for early in the morning so she could shower and look half decent for when Wes came over. Brianne didn't give a shit how she looked around him, she'd known him forever and he had seen her at her brother and dads funeral. He had seen her looking like that, he could deal with seeing her sans make up. After getting up and ready she went downstairs, seeing her mother in the living room. But instead of saying good morning, Bri grabbed a few garbage bags and a bottle of beer before heading up the stairs.
It wasn't long after that when Bri heard a male voice downstairs so Bri left her room with her bottle in hand. Leaning against the wall beside the stairs she heard the conversation between Wes and her mother. She had heard the tone in her mothers voice at just the thought of her own daughter. Bri closed her eyes tightly, and pressed her forehead against the wall. She felt tears start to swell in her eyes, her mother couldn't even hear her daughters name. How fucking sad was that? Bri wasn't a crier, she didn't cry very often at all. But, hearing her mother's tone almost did her in.
Who was Bri to blame her mother? Bri was the sole reason that her father and brother had even been killed in that accident. If Bri hadn't needed a ride it wouldn't have happened. If Bri hadn't asked Mikey to come along for the ride, he wouldn't have died. Bri knew she was to blame, but each time her mother confirmed it, it cut like a knife. "I'm sorry, Mom." Bri let the words fall from her mouth, but she could barely hear the words as they were said so quietly. Leaning back up from the wall, Bri took a swig from the bottle and looked down the stairs at Wes. He had started up the stairs and still hadn't noticed her.
Bri's own body tensed when she heard her mother call out to Wes, and the words she said only made her tense up even more. Wes was more welcome in her own house. Her home was more open to her brother, her dead brother's friends than her. Bri shook her head and crossed her arms as she waited for Wes to notice her. When he finally she did, Bri gave him a small nod before finishing the beer in her hand. "Wes." It was a greeting, not the most welcoming greeting, but it was one none the less. Leaning down to pick up the garbage bags and tossing the bottle into a garbage bag before walking to where the stairs pulled down for the attic.
Bri jumped up to grab the cord a few times, only to miss. But, she was determined and stubborn to do it on her own. Wes knew how she was, and she gave him a small glare to warn him off of trying to help her. She continue to jump up a few times before huffing, her cheeks red as she turned to Wes. "Help a girl out, would ya? Bri asked sheepishly, stepping back. "You're taller, and can probably reach it. My little arms apparently aren't enough." Looking up at the cord, she couldn't help but pout. She hated asking for help, but especially help from Wes. He always seemed to pride himself on helping her out, and it was a piss off. She didn't need his help when it came to guys, school or marks. It was her life, and she didn't need him to butt in.
"Hope you prepared yourself for photo albums, spider webs and other shit." She teased him this time, finally giving the older boy a glance at a less tense Percy. Her nose wrinkled at the thought of spider webs and she waved her hand to let him go first. "Idiots first, Lingstrom."
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Upon reaching the second landing, Wes sensed someone’s eyes on him. Nodding his head up, he found out he was right. Surely enough, there was Bri, a slight frown on her face and her arms crossed standing at the top of the stairs. Wesley smiled, and was about to make a witty remark about Bri not looking half as bad for a girl with a hangover, but she gave a curt nod in greeting before turning away.
Sulkily, Wesley trailed after the obviously distressed girl. He had two guesses to what caused her sour mood: she was incredibly hungover and sleepy or she had overheard Wesley’s less than pleasant conversation with Mrs. Percy. Watching her tense disposition and sensing her angry energy, Wesley surmised that it was the latter. He wished he could’ve spared her the agony –the one that came with knowing how unwanted and hated you were- because god knew that Brianne Percy already went through so much for someone her age.
Just when Wesley thought that he was resigned to spending the rest of the day in Bri’s brooding silence and snappish attitude, Bri started jumping up and down to reach for the rope of the attic’s staircase. Just like a cat pawing for a ball of yarn, Wesley observed, the goofy grin from earlier returning to his lips. How often did her get to see the girl of his affections act her age nowadays? Surely, there were few to none occasions; the last time he’d seen her having the innocent type of fun was when he was still with the football team and Bri fooled around with them.
She sent a glare his way that just missed being menacing due to the fact that she’d been hopping up and down a few seconds ago. He raised his hands palms up in a gesture of mock surrender and pretended to give her wide area for her measly attempts at capturing the cord. When she finally did ask for his help, he pretended to consider it. “Are you sure you need my help, big bad-ass you are?” he asked with a snicker, but obliged her anyway by easily reaching for and pulling the cord. With a flourish, he gestured for her to precede him, but there was her stubborn streak again, and she continued to taunt him with an idiots first.
“Look who woke up feisty this morning,” Wes regarded her dryly. But he accommodated her yet again; he didn’t want to get into a pissing contest with Bri so early in the morning. But just because he was willing to be indulgent of her, didn’t mean that he was going to resist egging her. “Princess, if you’re afraid to climb up the scary attic first, you only had to ask.” He teased her as he ascended the ladder. It wasn’t without difficulty for Wes to climb up: his frame was too big for the narrow attic way and his long limbs made it uncomfortable to manage the steep steps. Carefully, and all at once, he bent, squeezed and squirmed his way up into the stuffy attic.
“No monsters here, sugar.” He called down to his companion, a smug grin on his face despite the dust bunnies that clung to his hair.
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Bri could see the goofy smile on Wes' face as she jumped up and down for the rope, and for once it didn't really bother her. Despite him pissing her off regularly, and her always shutting down his attempts to charm her, Bri did care about Wes. She had been there when he had fallen and was diagnosed with CHF. She and Mikey had both sat in the hospital with his family and waited for the results. Then kept the mood light in the room when they finally got to go into the room he was laying in. Then he had returned the favour for her when her brother and father were killed. She cared, just not the same way Wes seemed to care about her. He was a huge part of her life, and she'd drop pretty well anything for him but it wasn't because she was in love with him. Or even considered him a person of her affection. He was just Wes, the guy she'd known practically since the womb that took care of her. So, if Bri could make him smile, she'd be happy to do that.
A glare quickly made it's way to her face when Wesley had called her a big bad ass. "Shut up." Bri snarked up at him. "It's not my fault I'm not six foot one hundred." Okay, that was an exaggeration. He wasn't that tall, and Bri was tall herself.. for being a girl. She just couldn't reach, and if Wesley could just shut up she'd be a lot happier. She nodded a quick thank you his way when he pulled the stairs down, and handed him the garbage bags. She skipped off to her room to grab her ipod and an ipod doc to bring up the stairs so they could listen to music. It only takes a moment for her to return and Wes had already made it up to the top.
Bri smiled up at him seeing the dust in his hair, and rolled her eyes at him soon after for his comments. "I'm wearing yoga pants, if I had went up first you would have drooled over my ass. I was being safe." Bri smirked before walking up the stairs with far less trouble than Wesley had. Stopping at the top step, Bri's free hand moved to tug on his jacket to pull him down a little bit so she could brush her fingers through his hair. "P.S, I'm always fiesty. Duh." She teased as she got the dust out before quickly moving away from him. Half of the time Bri didn't even realize that she would potentially give Wes the wrong idea by doing things like that. Infact she didn't even realize she was doing anything that could be seen as more platonic. Especially with the way she often treated him.
She set the ipod doc down and turned on 'Balaclava' by Arctic Monkeys before she moved to the far corner of the attic. Her hands swinging infront of her to avoid walking face first into a spider web. But her hips swung to the music and she sung the lyrics quietly. Sitting on a giant box, she looked back over to west before waving him over. "Come on, you're less likely to hit your head if you're sitting." She reached to open a box, and immediately noticed it was some of her fathers clothes. Bri hadn't even known that her mother had cleaned out the closet of his clothes, she assumed she'd have to do that. Seeing the clothes made her stomach tighten. "Well this is going to be a lot harder than I thought." Bri smiled sadly, pulling out the clothes. Each article of clothing smelling just like her father had. Her fingers tightening on the fabric before she pushed it into the garbage bag.
Bri sighed, leaning back to stair at the ceiling after just one box. This was going to be an emotionally draining day, and she refused to cry about it. She was the reason they were gone, so now it was her time to step up and deal with the consequences. After giving herself a moment, she sat up and looked at Wes. "Pass over another box." Bri tried to make her voice sound stronger than she felt, but she knew Wes was going to see through her charade.
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"No ass is safe from me, Percy." he retorted smartly at Bri's sweatpants remark. Of course he noticed that the cotton stretched quite fetchingly over her butt.
Snickering again, Wesley grabbed the broom from the corner with the intention of sweeping the dusty floor before he noticed Bri walking over to him. Wes couldn't help his heart rate speeding up when Bri tugged on the stiff material of his jacket and pulled down so his head was ducked before her. Her hand fussily got rid of the clumps of dust, messing up his already unruly hair some more. He always felt so stupid whenever Bri was in close proximity and his hormones went on overdrive. Often, he had to endure from his friends rib-jabbing and well-meaning jokes at his expense because no matter how smooth he was with other girls, Bri always managed to make him act like a dork. He really couldn't help the love-struck teenager type of reaction; he always wore his heart on his sleeve and was pretty much shit when it came to cloaking his feelings. Maybe the overreaction to Bri was due to the fact that he'd repressed his attraction to her for so long (as respect to Mikey) that now everything was bursting out like soda from an agitated bottle. Well, whatever it was, Wes didn't like it. He hated that he lost his cool around his best friend's sister. And it really didn't help that Bri didn't even know the effect she had on him. Around him, she was in a childish mindset because all she saw him was as a brother figure, despite all of the inappropriate comments he made. Suddenly, he felt a twinge of guilt at having less than innocent feelings for a girl who trusted him to be a friend. And she did trust Wesley, no matter how stubborn she was at pretending to be the opposite. They'd know each other practically all of their lives and there was too much grief and happiness and everything else between them. They'd seen each other at their lowest points and had picked each other up from the dirt. Sure, Bri had always been rough with him, and even more so since most of her family died, but the thought of giving up on her, abandoning her never even crossed Wesley's mind. It was impossible to even think about leaving someone who needed him so.
He watched Bri open a box and take out some male clothing, probably her father's or Mikey's. Judging by the old style, he surmised it was Mr Percy's. Wes saw emotion swim in Bri's eyes and he wondered how many times she'd already cried this morning. There was nothing more that Wes wanted to do but got to her and give her comfort, but he knew Bri needed her space. Certainly, when he'd been informed that he had a weak heart and had lost his best friend some weeks after, Wes had moments when he craved solitude and mind-numbing vices.
From across the room where Wes observed Bri, he heard her soft voice call out to him, asking him for another crate of old clothes. Wordlessly, he did as much, choosing to settle down beside her with a box of something he'd yet to open. At the corner of his eye, he watched her quickly shift through more clothes and thought that she might've started trembling at any moment now. But instead of the crying he expected, Bri lay on her back and stared straight up at the ceiling, as if expecting to see something magically appear there. For a while, Wes waited for the inevitable tears but she only sat up and asked for another box.
My strong girl, Wes thought fondly as he dropped a box of photographs on her lap. Mostly works of Mikey, who had been handy with a camera. The pictures ranged from a shot of Mr and Mrs Percy on the dining table, Mrs Percy and Wesley's mom gossiping at Wes's birthday party, but the album was predominantly made up of Bri and Wes, separately of together.
Looking over Bri's shoulders, Wes laughed at the pictures; he hadn't known Mike had taken them, and they were funny as hell. Most of his and Bri's pictures depicted the two arguing, and it made Wes grin; their dynamic was not lost in Mikey's tasteful pictures.
He glanced over carefully at the girl beside him, knowing exactly the turbulent storm of emotion brewing in her. "You okay?" he asked gently.
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Bri couldn't help the laugh that escaped her mouth at Wes' comment, but after she let out a few giggles she rolled her eyes at him. Despite her best efforts, Bri truly did find Wesley to be funny. He always had a way of making her laugh, whether it was because he was being a complete dork or he was being inappropriate. It always made her crack up. "Well, I was trying to save my ass from being ogled." She huffed trying to make herself sound frustrated with him, and using her hand to cover the small grin on her lips.
Bri knew that Wes was attracted to her, but she never sensed any more than that. It wasn't like he actually wanted a relationship with her, or had genuine feelings for her. She'd be a fool to believe that what Wes felt for her was anything more than a bit of physical attraction. Bri and Wes were just there for eachother, she was a snarky bitch and he was there to piss her off. It's just how the two had always worked. There was just no fucking way Wes was interested in her, he just liked to mess with her.
Pushing the clothes into the garbage bag was far more painful than she had expected it to be. The scent of her fathers clothes lingering in her nose as she was ready to throw these clothes away. Her hands trembled as she got a hold of one of her dads Red Wings sweaters. She smiled, and looked down at the sweater she had on with the same logo. Her fingers traced over the thread before she placed it behind her, she was keeping that sweater. She sent a smile up to Wes when he sat down beside her, but her eyes remained sad. There was no trace of tears in her eyes, yet it was still so clear that this was affecting her more than she was letting on. "On your way home can you drop these bags of clothes off at Goodwill?" She couldn't keep all of the clothes, but someone in need would have been happy to have the quality clothes.
A giggle escaped her lips as she opened the box full of pictures. She had all but forgotten about her brothers love for taking photo's. "I didn't realize he had taken this many photos." Bri admitted, not realizing how often her brother had his beloved camera out when they were all hanging out. Her fingers grabbed a picture of Wes throwing Bri over his shoulder, and Bri giggling with her hands gripping the back of his shirt. But, Bri knew she had been yelling at him the whole time. She smiled and put the photo in Wes' lap as she continued to go through the photos. She wasn't going to throw any of them out, but there was some that she'd like to bring down from the attic. "Just tell me if you want any of these." She knew there were pictures that she had taken of Mikey and Wes in here too. There was pictures of all of them.
Finally coming upon a photo of her mother and her, Bri's eyes started to water for the first time. She moved so her legs were tucked under her, and she rested her head on Wes' shoulder. Her fingers brushed over the smiling faces, reminding her that there had once been a time when her mother enjoyed spending time with her. That there was a time when they could be in the same room without her mother sending her off with a bottle of vodka. Bri nodded, not moving her head from his shoulder. "I'll be okay." Right now? Bri was nowhere near okay, but she would be the very last person to admit it. She hadn't been okay since the accident, but she would be okay one day. One day she wouldn't have to drink to drown her sorrows, she'd be able to move on one day. But for right now, Bri was as lost as a young girl possibly could be.
She sniffled and moved her hand to wipe the few tears from her face before leaning back up. It wasn't often that she would actually seek comfort from the older boy, but she really did need someone to be her rock today. Bri let out a small giggle, "Sorry, I know how you are about people crying." She wiped her face once more before she continued through the photos, putting her favourites in Wesley's lap for later.
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Wes's eyes were sad as he took the bag of clothes from Bri. Somehow, he managed to convey a wordless affirmative to thr favor she asked of him regarding her father's old clothes. His heart went out to her, and it pained him to know that his words, his comapny and whatever damn thing he's been trying to do for her is never and will never be a goodenough nursemaid for Bri's grief. Even time and love were debatable antidotes to her suffering.
Personally, Welsey felt no love for his own father. The old man was a tactless, unfaithful son of a bitch who hurt his mother and that in itself was unforgivable in Wesley's eyes. There was also the fact that the bastard was trying to force his way back into Wes' life, expecting a relationship after so many years of absence that Wes had moved on, erased his father's existance from his life and was actually content without his unwanted fatehr trying to slither back into Wes' graces. 'And it only took me to be dying of a weak heart for him to want to be involved with me again.' Wes thought brutally, his blood pressure soaring as he let the anger take over him.
Remembering his father always put the otherwise cheerful Wesley in a sour mood. Suddenly, it was as if all his delight from his outstanding morning had disappeared and turned into abig, dark storm cloud and with it came twin tugs of sadness and shame that he was bringing more problems in the Percy household. Resolved to ignore his ugly emotions, Wes flipped through more of Mikey's pictures.
It was like instantaneous therapy. Seeing all the happy faces and candid joy was enough to bring a hesitant smile back to Wes' lips. Mikey always had the talent of capturing rare, beautiful moments. Bri offered that he take whatever he wanted, and he decided he would love some of the pictures to remind himself that life was most likely to be good than upsetting. "Yeah, I'd like to take some home." he said finally. "Mom would get a kick out of seeing these. She always loved Mikey."
He saw the way her eyes clouded over when she saw the picture of her and Mrs. Percy during the happier days. He internally cursed himself for being such a fool. His intentions had been pure for showing her the photographs but somehow he only managed to make her feel bad. He should have known better; should have known that this would've been enough to trigger bad memories for her.He wanted to kick himself in his own ass, but that would have to come later. Right now, Bri was crying and even though he felt hugely uncomfortable, he had to suck it up and make her feel better. "Hey, now, it's okay to cry." he said in the hopes of sounding comforting. "I don't mind so much when it's you." he playfully nudged her with his shoulder, hoping to drag a smile out of her.
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Just sitting beside Wes she could feel him tense up, and looking at him she could tell he was angry. If she had been anyone else, she would have likely questioned it. But, after knowing him for so long she often felt like she knew everything that was running through his mind. Bri reached over to squeeze his hand in a comforting motion, "If my dad was still here he'd kick your dad in the dick for only coming into the picture now." A small smirk graced her lips as she spoke, and it was true. Her father had always tried to make up for the shithead that Wes had as a father, and he had grown to be protective of the younger man. "Maybe I'll do it in honour of my father anyways." She winked playfully, but in reality she would have little to no problem smacking some sense into Wes' father. The man had no clue how much he was missing right infront of him. Without him even saying a word, Bri was able to realize what he had been thinking. Sometimes it shocked her just how right she could be.
Bri smiled, and every so often she'd lift a photo up towards Wesley to see if that was the one he'd like to take. Most of the ones she lifted were ones of Mikey and Wes, or Wes with his mother. Despite how close the two had grown since the tragedy they had both went through, Bri didn't think he'd want pictures of the two of them. Bri nodded and smiled genuinely for the first time since they had made it to the attic. "Everyone loved him, nobody could help it." Bri looked up to her older brother, and she had always wanted to be just like him. He was the reason she had gotten into sports, and in her eyes he was perfect. Hell, he was perfect in the eyes of everyone. Bri couldn't help resent him, even his death for being someone everyone loved so dearly. She was the shadow, she always had been. The shadow of someone who was perfect, who could do no wrong. And since his death, she had become a dysfunctional shadow. One that had turned into the complete opposite of what she had always wanted to be, and as long as she didn't look in the mirror she didn't feel sick to her stomach about it.
Just like Bri had known Wes was angry, now she knew that he was mentally slapping himself for showing her the photos. The photos were an excellent thing, she was just being over emotional. Bri sighed looking at Wes, and had to move to her knees on the box to rest her chin on his shoulder. "If you feel bad for this, I will punch you so hard in the thigh you won't be able to walk for a week." Her voice was soft for once as she threatened him, giving him a sad smile before digging her chin into his skin to inflict a bit of discomfort.
Bri often craved physical contact, even in the most innocent ways. She liked to brush hands with people, nudge them with her knee, stuff her cold toes beneath their thighs. Then obviously with her more recent track record when it came to less innocent touching, she enjoyed that as well. But, unless the two were fighting, Bri never seemed to get much physical comfort from the boy infront of her. It was almost as though he never realized her small gestures like touching his arm when they talked civilly, or how she often would reach for his hand to play with his fingers. She did little things like that with pretty well anyone, and she couldn't help it. The physical touch of another person had always been more comforting than the bottle or words.
Bri rolled her eyes at Wes, "As if, you hate seeing people cry. I'm no exception." But, his comment did get a small smile from her, and also a smart ass comment. "You know when you say it like that, it almost seems as though you enjoy seeing me cry." Biting her lip, and pulling her chin from his shoulder Bri did her damnedest to hide her smirk.
✰ these castle walls, bri/bell
