𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 ⁻ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ ⁵

6 - the outsiders

"Sam's been at the hospital with her sister and her boyfriend, she didn't kill Vince."

"So there's two killers. Look for a second one. Or maybe she's lying to you." I shrugged. "Maybe she's lying about where she is, and you're falling for it because you're a fucking idiot."

I was going to be yelled at when I got home. This was the most out of character moment I have ever experienced in my life. I only get like this whenever my mother comes to town to visit. Great. This was the best night of my fucking life. I started to walk out, and just as I opened the door, Judy grabbed my arm and turned me around.

"I need your father's help with this, Tatum. With these killings...it's tied back to Billy and Stu. Sam is Billy's bastard daughter, which calls to Tara's attack, and Vince was Stu's sister's son. After Casey and Steve, and not including Principal Himbry, who died next back in 1996? We aren't including the attack on Sidney, either. Who died next, Tatum?"

Chills were sent down my spine as I realized the answer. She wasn't worried about me because I was a suspect and because my anger was showing more than usual; she was worried about me because I might be the next victim. I mumbled a colorful word or two under my breath, and pressed my lips together.

"Tatum Riley." My words were but a whisper; I was beginning to feel overwhelmed.

"You know, with what your generation is like sometimes, I know you might think that living through something as horrendous as this without being able to help is easier than dying, but it's not. It won't ever be, especially when you are able to help but choose not to." She was trying to do something. It wasn't working. "Trust me, dying is easy with this sort of thing-it's the living that's harder."

"Wow. Thank you, George fuckin' Washington, that's exactly what I needed to hear today." I scoffed once again, then storming out of her office while tears burned my eyes.

Amber, Liv, Mindy, Chad, Wes, Brielle, Laina, and my dad were all sitting in the lobby, waiting for their own interrogations to begin. Well, not Liv-she was the first one to be interrogated. But the rest of them were still waiting, and although Dad was my ride home, I couldn't sit there and wait. I'd break down. I took it too far, I was such a bitch, and all she was trying to do was protect me? What kind of person does that make me?

"Babe?" Wes's voice echoed in my ears (abe, abe, abe), and as much as I would love to console him right now, I couldn't.

I couldn't get any words out, I couldn't tell him how badly of an asshole I just was to his mother. Dad seemed to say something as well, but I couldn't pick up on what it is that he had just said. I'm a terrible person. I can't do this anymore, I can't take it anymore. I can't keep living like this. I rushed outside, slumping against the brick wall and bringing my knees to my chest as I slid onto the cold, cracked concrete. I tried to calm my breathing down, but it wasn't working as well as I had hoped it would. Nothing was working. Nothing ever worked. Judy wasn't an idiot, I was.

How can Dad handle all of this so often? I asked myself as I focused on the singular dead leaf that lay on the sidewalk. How can Dad take it and I can't? I needed answers, but once I realized what that answer was, I started to cry some more. He was able to take it because Mom wasn't in our lives anymore, and Mom was the only thing Dad has ever loved-not including me in this equation. Now that she was gone, now that his talking buddy was gone, he went to the bottle. That's how he could take it. He has to take care of me, and although we have nice conversations, he can't just tell me about every bad day he has-not to the full extent, anyways. He didn't want to scare me, he didn't want me to be scared, and that's why he never really talked to me about it. Now I was scared. Now I was fucking terrified, and that's why Dad went back to the bottle. 

"Tates?" Wes's voice sounded again; I looked up from the leaf to see him crouching right in front of me and offered my best smile. "As adorable as that just was, um, I don't think you should be out here alone, because, y'know..."

"I could be murdered brutally?" I asked, sniffling and pressing my lips together.

"Thank you for saying that so I don't have to, but yes. Basically." He let out a beautiful laugh and placed one hand on my knee. "D'you wanna talk about it?" 

"That leaf fell from the tree."

I pointed to the leaf I'd been staring at, feeling the need to relate my emotions to a dying leaf. It still had a bit of golden yellow left to go before the entire thing was brown and boring. Expectedly, when I looked to Wes for confirmation, he looked confused.

"That leaf, it fell from a tree. It's fall." I explained, sniffling along the way and trying to not burst into tears again. "That leaf fell from a tree."

"Yes, I see that," his voice was gentle; he sat down now, criss-crossing his legs. "Should that be an epiphany-activation to me?"

"No," I laughed, wiping a couple of tears away. "Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold," I quoted Robert Frost's poem from memory. "Her early leaf's a flower; but only so an hour. Then lead subsides to leaf." I pointed at the dying leaf. "So Eden sank to grief, so dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay."

My voice cracked on the final note, and I began to cry again. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across my knee, scootching in closer and wiping tears off of my face. I refused to make eye contact with him, instead deciding to look at a rusty stop sign, a couple of police cruisers, Brielle's car, the sign for the station, the dying leaf again, and even just closing my eyes.

"Look at me, Tates," he urged sweetly, "hey, hey, hey, look at me, look at me..."

His voice was smooth as honey; I caved and looked him in the eyes.

"You're the best, I'm very proud of you, we know this." There was about to be a but in this sentence. "But you do realize that you're crying over The Outsiders, right?"

That made me laugh-a genuine laugh, too. A soft laugh; a sweet laugh. The type of laugh that made me feel warm on the inside, the type of laugh that made me happy.

"Oh gosh, I'm crying over The Outsiders," I echoed and put my head in my hands, feeling my cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

"Me too, y'know, me too." Wes validated my emotions and pulled me upright onto my feet. "But maybe do it inside next time. Not outside, at almost two in the morning, right after somebody's been murdered. You get what I'm saying here?"

"Yeah," I laughed and wiped my nose again. "I get it, I get it..."

"Lets go back inside now, okay?" Wes didn't actually wait for an answer from me; it was a rhetorical question-with his hand resting on the small of my back, he was guiding us back towards the glass doors of the station.

Contrary to our plans, Dad was walking out-and actually walking out, too! It made me smile; I moved away from Wes and wrapped my arms around Dad's neck and shoulders in a hug. He was shocked by the sudden action, but hugged me back nonetheless, even giving me a gentle squeeze of confirmation that he was there. That this was real.

"It's okay," his whispers reassured me, "it's okay."

"Can we watch The Outsiders once we get home?" I asked, trying to pull myself together again.

"Anything for Patrick Swayze, sweetheart."

^^^^^^

dewey riley is a bicon confirmed by this fic