Yk, when it comes to the movie it's always rinney this, rinney that (which is understandable, if these two weren't in love then the sky is purple), but everybody should talk more abt Brinney (Bruce x Finney) on the book! In the book we're not presented to all the boys, Finney talks abt the first kid to disappear (i forgot his name lol) and abt Bruce, only! None of the other kids from the movie is there.
And, as consequence, Bruce causes a lot more impact on him. You can see that on how much he talks that Bruce was great and how he would be able to take the Grabber down with a rock or smt (as he was a baseball player yk) and he's always praising Bruce. It feels like a one-sided crush, the nerd background kid that comes from a bad family who has a crush on the popular kid who doesn't even know he exists.
But! In the end, when Finney receives the call, we see that his crush might be reciprocated cause Bruce says he's happy it's Finney (it's the recognition on saying that, he knows who Finney is, it's like seeing this guy on the background and saying 'I see you, i know you' and omg, ik that reading is abt interpretation and as i am delulu i like to think that is a proof), cause he does what he can to give Finney a chance to win.
overview: Bruce Yamada was basically a North Denver Little League team poster boy, and Finney would've envied him if he didn't think he was so damn cool.
Bruce must've noticed the staring, though, because he waved in Finney's direction. Finn blinked, slowly, and looking over his shoulder just to make sure that Bruce was, in fact, waving at him and not someone behind him he hadn't noticed, only to be met with the metal seats of the baseball field bleachers. “Hey, Finney!” Bruce called out to him, confirming that yes, Bruce Yamada was talking to him.
warnings: death, veryy brief mention of hanging
word count: 1,619
here is chapter two to my brinney fic!! here’s the ao3 link and here’s chapter one edited. this, along with chapter one, was graciously beta read by dakota/ @alpinelakeministries so shout out dakota! we love dakota here. enjoy divas it all goes downhill xx
tag list; @sammyfckmychungus, @sabsfavie
APRIL, NORTH DENVER, COLORADO. 1976—HOPE BLAKE’S FUNERAL, FIVE WEEKS AFTER BILLY SHOWALTER’S DISAPPERANCE.
Finney Blake never cared much for church.
Terrence never wanted him or Gwen brought up in it; seeing as he was never one for religion, but Gwen still asked the questions. Usually when their dad wasn't around. Finney listened quietly between the two of them, Hope’s gentle voice answering while she smoothed back her long, brown hair (Gwen had always had hair more like their father's). Finney remembered getting distracted just listening to her speak. Now, he sat in the front row with his father, his sister, and other extended family member as his mother laid in the casket, motionless. and Finney couldn't bring himself to care to what the speaker was saying. All he could think about was how he wished he’d paid a little more attention to the voice of his mother. He blankly stared at the picture he had picked out for the funeral preparations, because Terrence was at the bottom of a bottle, and Gwen was in hysterics. He picked the perfect picture for the funeral and the mortician was quick to agree that it honored his mother’s memory well. Their confusion as to why a child was handling his mothers memorial photo wasn't lost on Finney. He just couldn't bring himself to care.
Finn was choking down his tears as he clutched Gwen's hand. Who was holding his own so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Finney thought she might break his hand, but that was honestly the least of his worries. Finney wasn't concerned about his hand, or that he was certain his father had alcohol in his flask he wasn't even trying to hide. No he was concerned about what life was going to be like without his mother. Hope kept true to her name—she brought hope to Finney's otherwise miserable life. He would no longer wake up to the smell of her making breakfast in the morning.
He had to leave. Finney dropped Gwen's hand gently and excused himself. He remembered what she looked like in that casket and he never wanted to see it again. He knew that the morticians job was to make her look how she did in life, and they'd certainly done their job because he had almost started laughing through the tears that began to involuntarily spill, almost telling her that she was funny but the joke was over and she could wake up now. He could feel everyone's eyes burning into him and he speed walked out of the service before anyone realized he was crying.
Gwen called after him but he hardly registered it. He was already out the door, eyes squinting from the sudden sunlight. It didn't feel right that Hope Blake's funeral was on such a sunny day in North Denver. She should be enjoying it, not going into the ground under it. Finney didn't go home to change out of the suit that hung loose on his small, twelve-year-old limbs and lock himself in his and Gwen's shared bedroom until they got back from the service. Finney knew the town by heart, he didn't have to think, he let himself be carried on unfeeling legs even though nowhere felt quite right to go.
Instead he found himself at the baseball field, and Bruce Yamada was there. He was practicing, not that Finney really thought that Bruce needed it. He was already the best on his team, and the best Finney's own had gone against. Maybe practicing so much was why he was so good. He looked perfectly in his element, not even breaking a sweat as he gave a hard swing of his bat.
Finney sat on the bleachers, and he didn't mean to, but he was halfheartedly paying attention. Well, there were some stuff he caught; the wind in Bruce's short, well kept black hair, his smile when he hit the ball (like he didn't always), the way he effortlessly jogged over to retrieve them with a swiftness Finney's own team lacked. Bruce Yamada was basically a North Denver Little League team poster boy, and Finney would've envied him if he didn't think he was so damn cool.
Bruce must've noticed the staring, though, because he waved in Finney's direction. Finn blinked, slowly, and looking over his shoulder just to make sure that Bruce was, in fact, waving at him and not someone behind him he hadn't noticed, only to be met with the metal seats of the baseball field bleachers. “Hey, Finney!” Bruce called out to him, confirming that yes, Bruce Yamada was talking to him.
He knows my name, Finney thought to himself. And he felt stupid, because of course he knew his name. The two went to school together, even if he was a grade above him, and they'd played against each other for about as long as Finney Blake had been in Little League. He awkwardly put a hand up in acknowledment with a tight smile, it was he could really bring himself to muster at the moment. Bruce picked up a ball and jogged over to him, and he looked as flawless as he usually did; hair moving in time with Bruce when he bent down to grab it, and how it fell back into place when he stood up straight. Everything about Bruce felt perfect. There was nothing awkward about him.
Finney tried to sit up straight but it didn't do much. His shoulders felt heavy, weighed down with the guilt of having left his little sister alone at their mothers funeral with their less than sober father, but he couldn't be there anymore. He couldn't sit there and keep dry eyes and try to be strong for his little sister and his father. Finney needed out.
Bruce leaned his bat against the bleachers and flashed him his best smile. “Scouting the competition?”
Finney laughed dryly. “Is it that obvious?”
“Oh, totally. Great disguise, man, totally inconspicuous. Though, I don't think you'll find much here. It's just me.” Finney wanted to laugh, but laughing felt wrong right now. He wished he could tell Bruce that of course a suit a size too big for him was the perfect disguise to spy on his team's competition, and he was sure that's what Hope Blake would want him to do, but he just couldn't. What smile Finney could muster faltered, and in turn Bruce's did, too. “Is everything..alright, Finney?”
Finney shifted in his seat awkwardly. He barely knew Bruce, could he really tell him? Would that be weird? “It's nothing.”
“Are you sure?” It was a small town, and Bruce's sister Amy was friends with Gwen so if he didn't find out now, he would definitely know soon enough from Amy. Between me or his sister. Might as well be me.
“Just something with my mom.” Finney examined Bruce's expression and the knit of his eyebrows, seeing his cheeks flush a light pink. He swallowed hard.
“Oh, man,” he laughed uncomfortably, and Finn sensed his embarrassment. How could he have known that it was his mother's funeral, though? “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
“It's fine. I won't hold it against you.” Finney shrugged halfheartedly. An awkward silence weighed in the air between them and immediate regret pooled into Finney's stomach. He should not have said anything to Bruce. Of course he shouldn't have, why would he drop that on someone he hardly knew? Finney stood up and got down from the bleachers. “I should go. I'm sorry for dropping that on you.” He said, head hanging low, unable to look Bruce in the eye. He didn't want Bruce to see him like this, or the tears he'd been holding back.
“Finney—”
“Have a nice day, Bruce.” Finney tried to rush off but Bruce gently grabbed his wrist. Which made him stop dead in his tracks.
“Hey,” Bruce spoke softly, a kindness in his tone that Finney wasn't used to. Finney turned to look at him. There was a moments silence between them again before Bruce's mouth opened and closed for a second like he was debating on whether or not what he was the right thing to ask until he finally did, gently. “Do you want a hug?”
Finney didn't move for a second. He remembered the last time Hope had given him a hug—it was the morning before she was found hanging in their garage before he left for school. With the way Bruce was looking at him, Finney wondered if he could see the gears turning in his head as he mulled it over. Until he nodded. Bruce pulled him into a gentle hug and Finney nearly melted into it, the smell of dirt lingering on his clothes bringing a sense of familiarity to him, Bruce's secure hold on his shoulders as Finney leaned all his weight against him as he held him tightly. His throat tightened and he squeezed his eyes to stop the flow of tears but they were too much for him to hold back. Bruce's hold felt like an unspoken I've got you, and then the tears came like a dam breaking and his shoulders shook with each sob. Finney didn't know why, but Bruce felt safe in a way that he wasn't used to despite his popularity, and maybe that was for a reason.
Finney didn't notice the tears until he saw the stains on Bruce's shirt along with his blurry vision but he didn't seem to mind, and just let Finney cry it out. He clearly needed it. And for a while they stayed like that; Bruce, holding Finney tightly, and Finney sobbing against his shoulder.
