Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Scar." Cleo pinched the bridge of her nose, the other hand braced on their dining room table. Vaguely, they had the urge to dig their nails into the grains of wood, to feel the splinters through her palm, to feel real for a second. These games always fucked with her perception of being alive. It hurt.

"You can't… I understand you're yellow, but- you need to learn your actions have consequences!" Okay, yes, Cleo was aware that the lecture was a bit… rough. This isn't her strong suit, and she never claimed it to be! But somehow they had ended up here, with an ex and two adults who acted like kids enough that they were hers now.

Scar at least had the decency to look ashamed. He was hunched in his seat, hands folded in his lap, staring down at the table with the same intensity that was always in his piercing green gaze. Cleo was sure it was an act, of course, because Scar rarely felt guilty. About anything, really, but especially not kills. He was, however, very good at pretending to be sorry.

"'m sorry, Mom." He muttered, slouching further in his chair. "I know you are. But… c'mon, the Bad Boys are your cousins!" She grimaced at the fact her voice was getting louder, echoing throughout the small space much more than she wanted it to, then corrected. "Well… Joel is. Jimmy and Grian are our friends, at least, and Grian was out of it when you killed him, you knew that! How was he supposed to defend himself when he's not…"

They struggled for a moment, trying to word where Grian had been. He was… he wasn't there. The other Bad Boys had said he had gone to a "meeting." But that didn't make any sense, did it? "The point is that he couldn't defend himself, and you didn't help by killing him! Like, haha, fun and games, he can't do anything… and I wouldn't really be mad, but Grian is really upset with us, mostly you, Scar." At that, Scar perked up, eyebrows furrowed, before asking softly, "He's mad? At me?"

If Cleo didn't know their son so well, they would think he was acting. Acting sorry, or acting interested in what she had to say, but no. Scar's had a soft spot for Grian, at least in private, since the games started. It's no shock to her, or Bdubs, that Scar would be sorry for actually killing the Bad Boy. Regardless, he did at least try to keep it under wraps in public.

Exasperated, Cleo huffed a sigh. "Yes, Scar, he's mad at you. You killed him, for Void's sakes! Why wouldn't he be mad at you?" Her son still looked confused. "But…" His expression turned irritated. "He let Joel kill me! And you! Why are you defending him?"

Straightening, Cleo drummed their fingers on the table for crossing her arms to stop. It's a bad habit she has, touching all the surfaces. She stalled for a moment for answering lost in her thoughts before realizing Scar was waiting for a response. "Look, I'm not… I'm not defending him. I'm just telling you why he's mad."

Inwardly, she thought that Scar needed to stop dancing and do something about his feelings. In their eyes, at least, Grian seemed to share the weird crush Scar had formed. But that would make Cleo a hypocrite, so they refrained.

"I-I'm gonna go tell him he doesn't get to be mad! I got a yellow kill - three, in fact! - fair and square!" His chair scraped against the stone floor roughly as he stood. Scar paused, looking like he wanted to say something, but then he was out and moving towards the door, muttering under his breath.

Cleo sighed again as the door slammed, burying their face in their hands. "Void, he's repressed." Bdubs' voice emerged from the other room, followed by the younger boy. Cleo had to resist the urge to laugh. He wasn't… wrong, honestly. The sound of a straw drinking the last bit from a cup echoed around the small space, and Cleo turned to watch her younger son finish the rest of his juice. "What?" Bdubs said innocently at his mom's look. "I was thirsty!"

Cleo refrained from saying, "So is Scar!" Well... barely.