7.2 | how you get the girl (tw)

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MENTIONS OF MISCARRIAGE
(jason makes up for it)

continuation of until she's gone

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"You said what, Travis?" Whispered Jason from the opposite end of the dining table. His tone was forcibly not gentle.

Travis shifted, leaning against the wall. Clearing his throat, he was set to repeat, "I said that I--"

"No, I heard what you said, Travis," said Jason. Travis stared at him uncomfortably, blinking bewildered. "I want to know why the hell you said it. I really, even more, would like to know what your problem is as a whole, actually."

Travis shrugged. He knew what to say, but he didn't know how to say it. He thought that maybe he'd be better off not saying anything at all. Even better, he once hoped that the word of trouble wouldn't be blurted out, but this is a very conscious family. "I don't know," murmured the younger sibling, stepping his way up the stairwell.

Much to his dismay, his big brother followed closely behind. Then, he pinned him up against a wall with barely any breathing room. He chortled, pointing his finger between Travis's eyes. "Yeah? Well, let me tell you, you better figure it the fuck out, lil' man. Figure it the hell out before I give you an even bigger problem. And this one, you won't be given the opportunity to fix," threatened Jason.

Travis was fully aware he fucked up big time. Travis knew good and well that his older brother was infuriated with him and his stupidity, as well as the rest of the family. "I've been trying, but I--"

"No, no, Travis. You don't get to speak here. I have something to say, so whether or not you want to hear it, I'm going to say it. I'm not asking for permission," he said. He was no longer glued to the man's forehead but remaining close enough in case he, quite literally, needed to knock some sense into his brother. "You're an asshole. You are a literal waste of testosterone if you choose to so carelessly fuck everything up with that girl. Do you know her, Travis? She's the best. She's so, so damn good to you in every way possible. You've been with her for a really long time. You were there for her when no one else was, and she was there for you when you were too far in your sad boy shit to get out of bed and take care of yourself. This girl has given you so much. Travis, she's the mother to your fucking kid, c'mon man."

Travis said nothing. He stood there, claiming the same two floor tiles, listening intently to his brother's logical statement with nervous sweat dripping down his forehead. "I know, Jason. And, I'm fucking scared."

He glared at him. The glare wasn't supposedly a glare of obliteration, but more so misunderstanding the understanding. "Travis, what? You've always wanted to be a father. And for the last four years, you've been begging to be the father of her child. This is something you both have given up so much time for, and have put so much work into it. You do great with our girls. Pat said you've been phenomenal with Sterling and Bronze. You know what to do, man," counseled Jason., though this time he was much more softer in his choice of modulation.

"Man, I don't know. It's just different. I'm so excited, but I'm so scared. I never realized how much stress that comes with being a parent when you aren't yet even a parent," he whined. "I'm scared something will go wrong. What if I do something wrong? What if I'm not good enough for her or for Tiffany? What if something happens?" Now, he was panicking. "I mean, God, Jason, I love Taylor so much. What if after we have this child, things between Tay and I get sour? That happens, you know. Or worse, what if the lifestyle Taylor and I live is too much for Tiffany? What if I can't keep her safe? Like, that one time Taylor got attacked by that DJ? What if some stupid shit like that happens to Tif, or worse?" He was full on sobbing now.

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