Mike's words linger in the air -- in the silence of that dining room -- for longer than Nancy feels they should. She thinks about those words, feels the immense weight of them on her own heart and mind as she repeats them in her head. There's a sinking feeling present in her gut because she doesn't want to consider that Mike might be correct (to a degree). She doesn't want to believe that their parents might react with anger. With shock. She's scrambling, trying to guess how they might react based on past experiences. None of those experiences were ever quite as significant as this. She imagines their mother reacting with confusion, trying to understand but failing. She imagines both of them not taking the time to really listen, saying things in the heat of the moment that only serve to wound. And Nancy would be there, trying to pick up all the pieces.
There's no disgust present in Nancy, no horror reflected in her wide and contemplative gaze. Somehow, this news makes sense to her. It explains her brother's anger, his awkwardness. There's a look on her face, like someone who has finally solved some great puzzle. It's mixed with pity and sadness; he suddenly looks so much younger. So powerless and unsure.]
They... [She cuts herself off, sighs. For a moment, she just looks at him all scrunched up in that chair, and wishes she could do more to ease his fears.] They won't hate you. They don't always understand, but they love and care about you. They're not going to stop loving you just because you're gay. I know they won't.
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timeasmymeasure
CW: implied homophobia
Date: 2021-06-21 01:20 pm (UTC)Mike's words linger in the air -- in the silence of that dining room -- for longer than Nancy feels they should. She thinks about those words, feels the immense weight of them on her own heart and mind as she repeats them in her head. There's a sinking feeling present in her gut because she doesn't want to consider that Mike might be correct (to a degree). She doesn't want to believe that their parents might react with anger. With shock. She's scrambling, trying to guess how they might react based on past experiences. None of those experiences were ever quite as significant as this. She imagines their mother reacting with confusion, trying to understand but failing. She imagines both of them not taking the time to really listen, saying things in the heat of the moment that only serve to wound. And Nancy would be there, trying to pick up all the pieces.
There's no disgust present in Nancy, no horror reflected in her wide and contemplative gaze. Somehow, this news makes sense to her. It explains her brother's anger, his awkwardness. There's a look on her face, like someone who has finally solved some great puzzle. It's mixed with pity and sadness; he suddenly looks so much younger. So powerless and unsure.]
They... [She cuts herself off, sighs. For a moment, she just looks at him all scrunched up in that chair, and wishes she could do more to ease his fears.] They won't hate you. They don't always understand, but they love and care about you. They're not going to stop loving you just because you're gay. I know they won't.