🌈 a one shot / headcanon of my muse’s coming out story
Jonah sat in the hospital wing, staring down at his trembling hands through his blurred vision. He couldn't remember when he had started crying and wasn't sure when he had stopped. He knew that, despite the risk of being arrested for the drugs, he had done the right thing by bringing Stefan here. He had to. Stefan would have died otherwise.
What Jonah hadn't realised was that his parents would be called too. He was underage and had been involved in something big. There would likely be consequences for this but this didn't dawn on the boy until his father came storming into the hospital wing, throwing the doors open with his mother - slightly timid - behind him.
"What in Merlin's name did you do?" his father's voice boomed. It was so loud that a healer came over and asked him to lower his voice as people were here to get better. She was ignored, "Drugs?! Jonah, you can't be serious?!" he looked around, "Where is he? Where is this boy who influenced my son? Brought him down this wrong path?!"
As if on schedule, the healer who had taken Stefan appeared, looking grim. They had taken Jonah's boyfriend to a private area to look after him and the boy was expecting to see the other appearing behind him.
Jonah stood up, ignoring his father and desperately looking at the healer for any sign of good news, "Unfortunately, Stefan didn't make it."
In that moment, Jonah's entire world came crashing down. He seemed to crumple and fell to his knees. The heartbreak mixed with him sobering up and the withdrawal was too much for him to handle. His mother came rushing over and so did a healer. The one who had broken the news was approached by Mr Finch and Jonah was vaguely aware of them having a hushed conversation.
When Lena's face came into view and blocked Jonah from his father, he started sobbing and reached out to his mother, "I loved him, mama," he cried out, happy to receive the comfort. This was not how he was expecting to come out but all he needed was the support of the people he loved.
Over her shoulder, Jonah saw his father glaring at him, shaking his head.
"You did not love him," he said stonily before storming out of the room again. At this point, Jonah passed out and he woke up a few hours later in a hospital bed, hydrated and fed through a tube. The whole nightmare had not been a nightmare but his mother was still there, ready for help him.
After speaking to his mother - who wasn’t fond of her ex-husband either - he knew he had to go and see him. He couldn’t avoid him forever, even though he really wanted to. So he forced himself to apparate to the front door. His eyes landed on the cheery welcome mat and it made him scoff. He wasn’t sure it applied to him anymore. He knocked anyway.
His stepmother answered the door and her lips pursed at the sight of him. They had never seen eye to eye. Jonah was a mama’s boy through and through so his stepmother was just a symbol of the asshole his dad was. He had no idea how this woman was related to Maeve - the second sister he hadn’t known he needed. She opened the door further and stepped back so he could come in, “You father is in his study.
Jonah hadn’t expected a warm greeting but a hello would have been nice. It gave him an idea of how the rest of his time in this house would go.
Walking through the halls, Jonah hated it. This place had been his childhood home and it had been completely changed when he remarried. There were a few pictures of June and Jonah around but all the happy ones that included their mother had been taken down. He didn’t even know where they were. The decorations felt gloomier to him. His home used to be a sunshiny place, Lena Nowak’s touch. That was all gone.
Jonah stopped outside the study and lifted his hand to knock. Then he stopped, hesitating. He thought about just leaving but he couldn’t get away with that. His stepmother would ask about what happened and tell his father that he’d stopped by. There would be a confrontation either way. So he knocked,
“Enter,” a booming voice came from inside. Jonah followed the order. The older man looked up and put down his quill. Jonah was looking back into his own eyes, the one good thing that his father had given him. He straightened his shirt out and stepped inside, closing the door before he could be asked to, “I’ve been calling,” his father said.
“I’ve been busy,” Jonah replied. Again, there was no hello. Just straight to the point, “I have a shop to run.”
“Too busy to pick up your father’s phone calls but not too busy to hang out with your sister or visit your mother.”
Jonah had to hold his hands behind his back so his father didn’t spot ihs clenched fists. He hated when he talked about his mother. He didn’t have the right anymore in his eyes, “I’m here now,” he said, keeping his voice level so as not to show any of his anger.
“And a good thing too. I’ve just finalised all the arrangements,” his father actually smiled then.
Jonah blinked in surprised. He was expecting anger and disappointment and yelling, maybe even some cursing, “Arrangements?”
“Yes, Jonah,” his father stoof, taking a piece of parchment out of one of his drawers and standing up, “You have brought shame to the Finch name. Again,” there it was, “Something needed to be done. Your mother and I came up with the idea,” he walked around the table and handed Jonah the parchment. It was a contract. A betrothal contract. He skimmed it and saw the names.
“Mum helped you with this?” Jonah asked, looking up at his father wide-eyed. He’d just spoken to her. There’s no way she wouldn’t have told him.
“Yes, we had dinner with the Puceys last week.”
Realisation hit Jonah, “Don’t call her my mother,” he said, “She is not and never will be my mother.”
“Don’t be so disrespectful,” His father replied sternly.
“I’m not the one being disrespectful,” he spat back.
In a split second, Jonah’s head was turned to the side and his face stung. He could feel it throbbing already. He was in complete shock as he turned back to look at his father, who was just lowering his hand. His father was an ass and he had been a trigger for his son his whole life. He had abused him emotionally and verbally for years but he never crossed the line of striking him. Until today.
“You are a disgrace. You have done nothing but shame this family for years. First with that boy,” Jonah gritted his teeth. He wanted to talk back. He didn’t want Stefan’s name to be tainted by his father, “Then drugs and rehab. Now a relapse and so publicly. And after what your sister,” he opened his mouth to speak against that but he was stopped, “Don’t interrupt me, Jonah. You will fix this family’s reputation and go through with this marriage and you will not protest and you will not cause a scene before, during or after the wedding. Do you understand?”
Jonah didn’t say a word. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d probably get hit again. He handed the contract back in defeat and turned to leave. As he left the office, he pulled out his wand to cast a healing spell on his face. He didn’t need anyone seeing the bruise. All he could think about was telling Len. He had to tell her before anyone else did. Before he’d even reached the front door, he apparated to go home.
