I'm Scott Malkinson

34- No More Fights

As suspected, Fletcher comes home with some new video games that he's very excited about. Clyde forces a smile and listens to his youngest's excited chatter, trying his best to look totally neutral. He doesn't want to give Jade the satisfaction of seeing how her games are getting to him. Reacting is letting her win and he's far too stubborn for that.

They don't talk much throughout the next week. Clyde tries his best to remain passive, doing what he can to avoid pissing her off again. He hates that he's the one who has to do all the work in keeping the peace, the one who's constantly walking on eggshells.

He wakes up early to go to work, then when he comes home for the day he hardly acknowledges her. Maybe if he plays his cards right, if he can keep as inoffensive as possible, she'll grow bored of him and release him from this daily hell.

He hasn't had a drink all week, leaving the case of beer in the fridge totally untouched. By the third day the withdrawal symptoms start to set in, his head is pounding and he's in a near constant state of nausea, but he pushes through knowing that the moment he picks a can up Jade will pitch a fit.

He just can't stand to be a part of another fucking fight, but this is equally as miserable.

On Friday night Griffin tells him he's headed out to Dylan's. Both he and Jade prefer when they hang out at their house—Randy is just so unstable that he really doesn't want his kid to have to be around that, but Clyde doesn't want to argue with him either so he just waves his son off.

He isn't even all that surprised when later that night he gets a call from the police station.

"Hey Dad," Griffin's voice sounds over the crackling phone line. "Dylan's sister called the cops on Randy again."

And with that, the slight semblance of peace he'd managed to create all comes crashing down.

Officer Stoley is at the front desk when he arrives at the station, and Clyde grimaces at the sight. He was hoping that Anderson would be on duty tonight—Clyde's gotten a little too up close and personal with Kevin. If he'd known that he'd be forced to see him on such a regular basis in their adult life, Clyde probably would've tried to handle their brief little flirtationship with a bit more tact.

Kevin seems just about as thrilled to see him, offering up a tight smile as he passes him a clipboard with the release forms.

"You know the drill, fill these out," he mutters as Clyde takes them. He offers up a mumbled "thank you," before heading off to the waiting room with his paperwork.

He pauses when he steps over the threshold, eyes zeroing in on the only other person in the room. Scott is sitting in one of the hard plastic chairs, chewing on the side of his tongue in that all too familiar way that he's always done while trying to focus. Clyde has always found it endearing.

He slips into the seat next to Scott, knees cracking on the way down and winces as the popping sensation.

Scott looks up from his own clipboard, face paling as their eyes meet. He's so noticeably uncomfortable that Clyde almost wants to turn around and run out of the station right them and there, but he can't leave Griffin here overnight (it would be wrong and Jade would never let him hear the end of it), so instead he attempts to ease the tension with a joke.

"Have they started bringing in Catholic priests to trick prisoners into confessing to their crimes?" he asks, raising an eyebrow as he smirks. Scott doesn't seem impressed. Clyde should cut his losses here and shut up, but for some reason his mouth keeps moving. "I mean that's creative as hell, but seriously fucked up."

"Hilariouth," Scott responds simply, in a tone that tells Clyde he doesn't find it the least bit amusing. "I'm here for my kid too."

"I didn't say that's why I was here."

"You have the releathe forms on your clipboard."

Clyde looks down. Scott's got him there.

"So Charlie's finally gotten caught up in all this mess? I feel bad, my boy's corrupting him." If he's being honest, Clyde's actually a bit shocked. He knows that Scott's kid hangs out with Dylan a lot, but he doesn't seem to like Griffin much. It's almost like he inherited the coldness that Scott holds for him. It's hard to picture the two of them tearing it up at a one of the infamous Tegridy Farms parties together.

Scott practically turns green and Clyde starts glancing around for a trash can in case the other man starts hurling. Luckily, after a moment he regains his composure.

"Actually I'm picking up my daughter," he admits, then he fixes his face into a tight smile and asks "You pick up Griffin from the police thtation a lot?"

The question hits him like a slap to the face. He feels like Scott has insulted him in so many ways just with those few words and Clyde feels a flash of anger start to rise in his chest. Just who does he think he is? Scott isn't any better than him, his kid has gotten into the same exact mess, so who does he think he is judging him?

Clyde opens his mouth, ready to tell him to go fuck himself but he just can't bring himself to let those words past his lips so instead he says, "How do you know I'm here for Griffin? Maybe I'm picking up Fletcher."

Scott lets out a quick puff of air, and for a moment Clyde almost thinks he can see a glint of amusement in his hazel eyes.

"What could that kid have possibly done to get himself arrested? He's like eight."

"Nine actually," Clyde corrects. "And trust me he gets up to all kinds of mayhem. Just last week I had to bail him out for operating a lemonade stand without a license."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Scott mutters, shaking his head as he continues marking up his form.

Clyde looks down at his own clipboard and quickly realizes that Kevin didn't actually give him a pen. He supposes he'll have to wait for Scott's.

"Woah, that's some real sinful language there Father Malkinson," he says. It comes out a bit more flirtatious sounding than he meant it to, which was approximately not at all. He and Scott both have wives at home, and even if those marriages are loveless and unfulfilling, he wouldn't want to put either of them in jeopardy. He doesn't think the other man would tolerate it anyway.

Scott looks up, eyes wide, and his cheeks turn a slightly pink shade that makes Clyde's heart thunder inside his chest. It's not the reaction he expected, and he's almost ready to throw that previous thought about not putting their marriages in jeopardy out the window when Scott says, "you're right. I don't know what came over me."

He seems lost in thought after that, so distant that he hardly seems aware of Clyde anymore. After a few moments too long, he starts becoming a bit concerned that Scott's sugar levels have dipped and he's starting to crash.

"You good, man?"

No response.

"Hey Scott," he tries again, nudging him with his elbow. Scott jolts, sitting up a bit straighter as his eyes snap towards Clyde, but once he's met with those hazel eyes, so full of emotion yet so hard to read, Clyde falters, momentarily losing the ability to speak. Momentarily his eyes flick downwards towards Scott's lips, then he quickly draws them back up.

"Kevin forgot to give me a pen," he says finally. "Could I borrow yours when you're done?"

Scott glances down at his paperwork, quickly scribbles a signature across the bottom and hands the pen to Clyde.

"Jutht finished, here," he says, getting up quickly and heading back to the desk to pass his paperwork off to Kevin.