A Losing Battle (Miles Self-Para) ― CANON.
(current verse)
Miles is home for the week of Thanksgiving after a whole slew of relationship problems. Greg wants to help him out — or so he’d like Miles to believe. In truth, Greg is a crazy homophobe, and he does not take kindly to Miles telling him all about things that happened with Nick. TW for homophobia and violence/physical assault.
This sucked. All of it.
No matter which way he looked at his current situation, all Miles could think about was how much it sucked. Some of it was his fault, but a lot of it was the shitty universe doing shitty things to him at the moment.
He had gone to Lily’s house the night before after informing her that he needed to talk to her. He was pretty sure she knew what was coming; she wasn’t stupid. And when he told her that he didn’t think he could be with her right now, that he’d jumped into it for all the wrong reasons but that she was a great girl, she took it well. She agreed with him, saying she was glad he’d thought about it early enough along. But Miles felt terrible. He could still see the sadness in her eyes.
Lily deserved better. They both knew it. She needed someone who wasn’t going to constantly be distracted by other things. Or more specifically, another person. But it didn’t help him feel any better about wanting to give it a chance and then dumping her.
Now he was home for Thanksgiving, and it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be. He didn’t think he wanted to be anywhere in particular. But home sucked especially right now. He didn’t mind seeing his mom, of course. It was Greg that bothered him, and everyone else in the family that wanted to know how things were going, what Miles’ plans were, if he was dating anyone. He knew he was lucky to have the family he did, but he just wished he didn’t have to deal with it now.
Of course, this was mostly because his mind was completely elsewhere. He was in his childhood bedroom, lying back on the twin size bed with his eyes closed and his hands folded over his stomach. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the thing with Nick since it happened. He was picking it apart, going over every single detail in his head. He was silly to think that something Nick said while high was going to change everything. But at the same time, Nick had never actually revoked the statement, had he? He never came right out and told Miles he didn’t love him after all. So maybe…
No. He wasn’t going to let himself fall into that bullshit.
He groaned aloud. This was so frustrating. He’d talked about it a little bit with his mom, but he was vague about it. For starters, he didn’t mention that any of it had to do with Nick because that would just open up a whole new slew of questions. He knew his mom, though. She probably had a feeling because she never pried for more information, just stared at him like she was already getting the facts she wanted. Miles never understood how she did it. Just a mom thing, he supposed.
Still, she couldn’t fix it for him. As much as she loved to solve all his problems when he was a kid, she couldn’t do it for him now. But talking about it helped. And she reminded him that it was no one’s fault. Nobody could help how they felt. Even if Miles felt stupid and he was angry at Nick for making him feel stupid, neither of them could be held accountable.
He just wished that could make him feel less pissed about it. Because at the end of the day, even if all was forgotten, things still probably wouldn’t work out the way either of them wanted it to. And that was the shitty part.
He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock at the door. Miles opened his eyes, sitting up a little straighter. “Uh, come in.”
The door slowly cracked open, and Greg popped his huge, goofy head through it. “Hey, kiddo,” he greeted, his wide smile getting under Miles’ skin from the second he laid eyes on him. “All good up here?”
Miles frowned. Of all people in the universe to come in right now… “Um. Yeah, Greg. All good.”
But for some reason Miles would never understand, Greg stepped in anyway, closing the door behind him. “I heard you from my room.” Miles wanted to correct him and say it was his mom’s room, but he refrained. “You sounded distressed. Wanted to come check on ya.”
Miles narrowed his eyes. He’d never understand why Greg spoke to him like he was a child. He always had, since he first started dating his mom when Miles was 20. He absolutely hated it. He hated him.
But Miles never said anything about it. He replied passive aggressively most times, but never had the balls to really stick it to him like he wanted to.
Not until right now, apparently.
“You know, I’m sure I’d have appreciated your super helpful stepdad talks more when I was seven years old, but you seem to forget that I’m a grown man. And, like, my dad was there anyway. So I could really do without them now, thanks.” Miles was sitting up completely straight now, his arms crossed over his chest.
Greg simply stared back at him for a moment, then he bowed his head and sighed. He took a few slow steps forward with his hands in his pockets. “That’s cute, Miles.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. You know, the whole ‘you’re not my real dad’ thing.” Greg smiled, but it was so fake and Miles wanted to smack it right off his face. “You do a real good job of pretending to be seven.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “That’s really not the issue, I can tell you that right now.”
Greg didn’t press it any further. He knew was Miles meant. They stared each other down for a few quiet moments until Greg finally spoke again.
“So your mom told me you were having some girl troubles,” he started, taking another step forward. “You think you could use a guy’s perspective?”
Miles froze. There were several things that felt very, very wrong here.
First of all, Greg had made countless slightly homophobic comments in the time Miles had known him. The first few times he believed that they were mostly jokes (even if they weren’t funny), but as time went on, it became clear to Miles that Greg was pretty serious about it. He was genuinely homophobic, which was a downright laughable thing to be in this day and age. Miles had never challenged him on it. It was mostly due to the fact that he tried to avoid conversation with Greg as much as he could. So as soon as Greg found out that they weren’t actually girl problems…Miles just didn’t want to hear it. Greg didn’t even know that Miles was bisexual and had been with men to begin with, because why on earth would Miles ever tell him that? He’d made it a point to ask Quinn not to divulge aspects of Miles’ personal life to Greg (he made an exception for very vague comments, which was evidently what she’d given him here).
Second, the last thing Miles would ever consider taking into account in his life was Greg’s opinion. He had no idea where Greg had gotten the idea that Miles would want to know what he thought. He was just such a self centered douche.
Third, he just wanted Greg to be away from him. So he certainly wouldn’t be keeping him here any longer than necessary.
“Uh, no, I’m good,” Miles replied. “I already talked it out with my mom.”
“She said you still seemed upset.” Greg was uncomfortably close to him now. Honestly, he was too close just being under the same roof, but still. “She just went to the store to get some things for dinner on Thursday, so I thought I’d come ask you about it in case you wanted to talk it through. Man to man.”
Miles almost felt sick. “I have absolutely no interest in discussing this with you, Greg.”
Greg sighed. “I know you aren’t the biggest fan of me, kid, but I’m just trying to be nice.”
That was it. Miles pushed himself up off of his bed so that he could be level with Greg.
“You aren’t trying to be nice,” he countered, balling his hands up into fists at his sides. “You never cared to be nice before this very moment.” It was true. Something wasn’t right. There was no reason for Greg to be coming in here with this bullshit for no reason. He wanted something. More information, probably. But why? Why did he care?
Then it dawned on Miles. Maybe Greg had a hunch, a feeling that there were no girl problems after all. And he wanted to find out for himself. Conveniently when Quinn was gone.
“Oh, that is just rich.” Miles didn’t even mean to say it out loud, but he didn’t care that he did. He found himself laughing bitterly. “What exactly did my mom tell you?”
Greg paused. Now it was his turn to narrow his eyes. “She told me that you were having relationship problems, and I—“
“But she didn’t tell you I was having girl problems, did she?” Miles was grinning wildly now. “I bet she slipped up, huh? Threw in a pronoun you weren’t expecting?”
Greg didn’t respond.
“And then she begged you not to say anything. Or tried to pretend it was an accident and play it off. But you just had to find out for yourself.” Miles crossed his arms again. “Well, I’ll tell you, Greg. What is it that you want to know?”
Again, Greg stayed quiet. His expression didn’t change at all, in fact. But Miles wasn’t backing down.
“Do you want me to tell you that I’ve known I liked men since I was…probably twelve or so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. At that, Greg turned his head.
Strike one.
“Oh, we don’t like that, do we? Hmm. Well, maybe it would help to know that these ‘relationship problems’ I’ve been having are between me and my best friend. You know, Nick? Tall, blond, incredibly good looking.” Miles nodded, almost to himself. “Yeah, things have been a little weird between us since we made out here last Christmas.”
Greg was visibly uncomfortable. Strike two. Miles wasn’t sure if it had more to do with the homophobia or just the fact that he knew Miles was purposely riling him up. In any case, he was upset — which only spurred Miles on more.
“No? Well, maybe I can give you a little more insight into what happened, then. You might have some advice for me if you have more information.”
Miles cleared his throat. He dropped his hands to his sides again and strode forward until he was directly in front of Greg. He felt strangely brave right now. It probably had something to do with all the frustration about so many things building up inside of him at the moment.
“See, we were really back and forth for a while. It’s hard when a friendship blossoms into something more, you know? You have to figure things out,” he explained. “And Nick — he’s not out of the closet. Now that I think of it…probably because of lovely folks like yourself! Funny how that works, huh?”
At that, Greg’s head snapped up to look at Miles. He was staring him down. Something didn’t sit right about it with Miles. But he wasn’t about to let this go now. Seeing Greg squirm was incredible. Plus, it wasn’t like he was actually going to do anything to Miles.
“So anyway, that complicated things right from the beginning,” Miles continued. “There was a whole lot of bullshit for a long time. But probably my favorite part was the wedding. You and my mom, I mean. Nick was there, remember? And at some point we decided to ditch the reception, and I ended up coming across your keys.” He laughed. “You ever wonder what happened to your shitty radio stations? Yeah, you’re welcome.”
Greg still didn’t seem all that amused, but the way he rolled his eyes at Miles’ words, then sighed and looked away, made Miles think that he thought that was the worst of it. He held out a hand.
“Oh, I’m not finished. We’d both had some drinks and smoked some weed so, like, you can’t really blame us, Greg.” He shrugged. “The mood was just right, you know? It felt right, no matter where we were.”
Greg was back to staring Miles down. There was the same look that gave Miles sort of a start. But again, it only made him want to do this even more.
“I worry you don’t understand what I’m trying to tell you, so I’ll phrase this as plainly as I can.” Miles looked him dead in the eye. The air around them was heavy. “I fucked him. Right there. In your car.”
Strike three.
It was fast. Miles didn’t really have much time to process. It happened in quick succession. First he felt the hand around his throat sending him stumbling backward. Then he felt his back hitting the wall, groaning as his head came into contact with it. The force of it sent the kids books that had been on the shelf above Miles’ desk since he was little tumbling to the floor.
“You think you’re funny?” Greg asked through clenched teeth. He pulled his hand away from Miles’ neck, only to replace it with his forearm, pressing into it and holding Miles’ entire body against the wall. “You think you’re going to gain anything from this? Huh?”
Miles reached up instinctively to grab onto the arm that was nearly choking him. He had provoked him, sure, but he hadn’t expected anything to come of it. He pulled at Greg’s arm with no success. He tried not to struggle too much, to make it look like Greg had won.
Because that was what he wanted. To win. To overpower him.
The reality of the situation set in. Miles was almost struggling to breathe here, and it all boiled down to the fact that his own stepfather, someone his mother had deemed suitable to marry, had gotten upset over some comments Miles made about something he didn’t like. Now he was holding him against the wall and threatening his safety. When he thought of it that way, Miles went back to being pissed.
From there, it was a pretty easy decision to lift his leg and knee Greg right in the crotch. It caused Greg to let him go, stumbling backwards and doubling over. Miles immediately raised his hands up to his own throat. He took a few deep breaths, regaining control, and then looked down at Greg.
“Fuck you,” he said lowly, his voice a bit hoarse. “All of this because…what? What’s all the anger for, Greg?” He raised an eyebrow. “Because I have sex with men? That offends you?”
Greg looked up from where he was bent over. He was breathing heavily when he stood up straight. Miles thought for a moment that he was just going to turn and leave. But he should have expected the opposite, because if Greg was crazy enough to choke him against the wall, then he was certainly crazy enough to reel back and swing directly at Miles’ face — which was just what he did.
Miles didn’t have time to react. He stumbled backward and instinctively reached up to hold his face, but there wasn’t much else before Greg grabbed him by the shoulders and raised his own knee right into Miles’ abdomen. Miles grunted at the force of it and fell to his knees when Greg let him go. He braced his hands on the floor in front of him as he now struggled to catch his breath, since the wind had been knocked out of him. He hadn’t nearly recovered yet when Greg gave him a swift kick to the ribs, sending Miles crumpling over on his side.
“You’ve always been a disrespectful little shit,” Greg told him. His eyes were dark as he stared down at Miles, and there was a wildness in his eyes when he kicked him again, causing Miles to actually cry out this time. “Someone ought to teach you a lesson.” He lowered himself to the ground to put his face right in front of Miles, giving him a wicked smile.
Miles gasped and struggled to move further away from him, but Greg curled his fist into the collar of Miles’ shirt, keeping him there. He used his other hand to deliver several swift punches to Miles’ face. Miles tried to block it, to push Greg off of him, but he was already messed up enough from the kicking and not having a moment to really catch his breath. Greg was easily overpowering him. Miles couldn’t tell where all the blood was coming from, but he felt it all over his face and could see it every time Greg pulled his hand back right before coming down on him once again.
He didn’t know how long it was before Greg finally stopped. At that point, Miles had his eyes closed, and he didn’t even want to attempt to open them again. He felt severely weakened from the whole ordeal already. Once again, he didn’t have time to get his bearings because Greg used both hands to yank Miles up into a sitting position by his shirt. Miles’ body was fairly limp; he struggled to keep his head upright, and he couldn’t do much to fight back while Greg was moving him around like that. He feebly brought his hands up to try and pull Greg’s off of him, but Greg simply responded by swiftly shoving Miles’ upper body backwards where he sat, causing Miles’ head to slam against the wall, hard. Miles groaned again.
This had been a bad idea. He didn’t know at the time that Greg was an angry fucking psycho, but now he wished he could go back in time and stick to his usual passive comments. He was in pain and honestly fearing for his life, and it was absolutely not worth it at all.
“You need to learn to show some fucking respect,” Greg said darkly. He emphasized his words by slamming Miles back against the wall again. “If I ever see you talk to your mother the way you just spoke to me, it will be a lot worse than this.”
Miles thought that it was probably the mention of his mother that caused him to do what he did next. He hated to hear Greg speak about Quinn like he knew her. As if he had any claim over her. As if she meant more to Greg than she did to Miles. Whatever it was, it had Miles completely forgetting the lesson he’d learned just a moment ago.
There was no rational thinking behind it. He opened his eyes and then spit right in Greg’s face.
Miles had already gotten his strike three, so it seemed fitting that he got a much worse penalty for going even further than that.
There wasn’t much after that he could remember. Another slam, followed by his body flopping back into his bedroom floor. Miles caught a quick flash of his Pokémon bedsheets before Greg started wailing on him again, this time adding more of kneeing Miles in the abdomen for good measure. Miles tried to remember the bedspread, how the entire room was filled with all the things he’d loved and missed about his childhood. He kept thinking about it, holding onto the memories.
It was a distraction, maybe, from the pain radiating throughout his entire body, the throbbing of his head. Whatever the reason, he did it until he fell unconscious, catching one last glimpse of Greg’s clenched teeth followed by his fist coming down on him once again.
Moving easily, the brunette showed no fear as she moved into the clearing, her hands away from the hilt of her sword. When veridian eyes caught the sight of the wolves, the hammering that had started in her chest eased. “Go. The kitchen staff will feed you,” she attempted to explain gently, motioning for them to go the other way.
The pair had been hand-reared from the time they were small enough to fit in her hands, and she’d know their markings anywhere. “They won’t hurt you,” she promised as she looked back towards the camp.
“You put faith in her, that her story is true,” Lyric warned, her shoulders squared, her chin high. The brunette had her mother’s defiance, her distrust, as much as she had her mother’s features. “You can babysit, Alaric.”
Cyrus’ heavy boots shuffled through the snow, marking a clear path as he followed his long-lost wonderer. To think that she had found her way home gave him hope. If what she said was true, and that there was another girl out there, she too would find her way home. Magic was in their blood, even if they didn’t know it yet. The magic would always draw them home.
When the wolves caught his eyes, they grew wide in awe. They had tamed the pack, he didn’t think it was possible. “Incredible,” he whispered, dropping down to one knee as to be on the same level as the once wold creature.
“She has not given us a reason not to trust her,” he whispered out to his sister. “When she gives me a reason not to, then I will be wary.” They had people coming to their group all the time, trust was part of their kind. When people broke that trust however, it would be the last mistake they would make.
