#y’all love fillmores family so. here’s the man himself

[goldendiie]

cream, politician. (1968).

[amaloaf]

Forget (Remember) ch. 4

Hey remember this? Apparently I did so here it is, only 6+ months late. Sorry for any inconsistencies, I kinda had to do an overhaul on some of the plot points, nothing major.

The new doctor in town, Doc, was kind enough. He picked out the glass in Sarge’s hand and bandaged it without saying more than three word to either of them. He made fast work of it and before either of them knew, one tetanus shot and and a wise sounding “be more careful next time” later, they were back on the street left to awkwardly walk home.

Sarge couldn't even pretend to look at Fillmore. He just clenched his fists until his bandaged hand stung to distract himself as he stormed back to his store. Fillmore spoke to his back.

“So we're not even gonna talk about this?” Sarge could hear the uneven sound of Fillmore’s wheelchair moving over the rugged terrain. If he were a better man he would go back and at least have the decency to push his partner back to his hut. However, he was just too angry to give a damn about anything regarding Fillmore so he made the show of loudly stomping his feet back to the surplus garage. At least Fillmore was kind enough not to call after him.

Doug “Mater” Keever was waiting inside the door when he went inside. He had some idea of why he was here, so Sarge brushed past him in favor of helping an old woman who was looking at some of the various scrap he kept in the back of the store. She soon left with a sturdy copper pipe, though, and Sarge was forced to acknowledge the other man's presence.

“Doug.” He nodded in his direction.

“Sarge.” Doug seemed to consider him for a moment before deciding to continue. “I hear y’alls havin’ relationship issues.” He stated bluntly. Sarge glared at him from over a display table, he had never had and issue with Mater or his family (in fact they were currently the only outed gay couple in the town who had yet to be stricken by misfortune, which Sarge took some comfort in), but that didn't mean there wasn't any reason to start. Especially if they wanted to start sticking their grimy noses were they didn't belong. Mater put his hands up in defense, though his cheeky smile certainly didn't go unnoticed, “Now, now I di’nt mean nuthin’ by it ya know me Sarge. But I can't safely say I hadn’t been in your shoes before and thought yous could use a helpin’ hand in all that drama.”

“I haven't a clue about what in God’s name your talking about.”, he lied. Maybe, if Sarge was lucky, he could maybe not have the entire town find out about what goes on his bedroom before the day ends. “In case you haven't noticed I'm just a simple man living a single, bachelor life in a up-and-coming pitstop town. I'm not exactly the settling down type.” Another lie. “Besides, even if I was having issues, which I'm not, why would you be any help, I mean it's not like we have anything… in common.” Even Sarge couldn't deny how full of shit he sounded. Mater just chuckled, a deep but warm sound that came from the chest, and looked at Sarge with a mix of amusement and pity.

“Y'know Sarge, denial’s a big ol’ parta the comin’ out process. I won't deny I spent years fightin’ myself at e’ry turn ‘cause I felt I hadda be sumn’ I wasn't.” Sarge stiffened at his words, his shoulders pulling back and his spine going rigid. “I'm jus’ tellin’ ya, it doesn't havta be that way for ya. Radiator Springs is safe, ain't nobody gon’ be able to touch ya here, you can jus’.. be yerself.” Mater said as he watched Sarge, hoping for some sort of recognition or even just a show that he was listening.

Sarge expertly kept his eyes trained on the wall. He kept his arms crossed, voice dangerously low and whispered, “Get the fuck out of my shop before you regret making assumptions that you know a damned thing about me.”

Mater sighed. “Aight, then. Have a good resta ya day, Sarge.” Mater began to walk out but paused in the doorway, “Woulda at leas’ think bout what I-” he was cut up by Sarge slamming the door behind him and removed the sign on the window that said “Open” to “Out to Lunch”. He watched Mater regard the sign before walking off his property, slight disappointment clear in his posture.

‘Good. Serves him right for trying to breach my privacy.’ Sarge thought. He finally felt like he had a second to breath, like he had been holding his breath since the tattoo parlor. He realized he hadn't even gotten dressed this morning and was still just in his sweatpants and jacket. His watch told him it was almost 12:30. Lunch break shower it is.

….

A shower really did do wonders on him. He finally looked halfway respectable, his hair combed and his oddly colored skin at least clean. Fresh clothes and he was practically a new man. No other residents came to the shop for the rest of the business day, so he could rest easy helping customers and negotiating prices. He even caught a shoplifter, a sniveling teen with greasy hair growing past his collar that had tried to shove some blank dog tags into his pocket. He felt a small sense of pride handing the boys apologetic parents a pamphlet for a correctional military camp and watching the kids face twist in horror.

A small part of his brain told him Fillmore would be disappointed, and that he should of been more forgiving. He pushed those thoughts away, after all he had a business to run.

It wasn't until he closed up for the night that he was suddenly aware of how hungry he was, and how empty his kitchen was of any nutritional substance. ‘Normally I eat at Fillmore’s’ he thought miserably as he closed another cabinet after no food had materialized between the last five minutes he had checked. ‘‘Flo’s can't be THAT busy. I'll just get something to go.’’

He was right in a sense; Flo’s cafe was having a fairly slow night, it was just housing everyone Sarge was trying to avoid. Ramone sat on a barstool, trying to start a conversation with the new doctor. The town sheriff was having a malt on the doctors other side, and Doc seemed to be warming up to him much better. Mater sat with his husband, Carlo, and their kid Toby, (who they just called “Tow” since the poor kids lisp made it hard to pronounce his own name and they just couldn't resist the pun to their profession) at an outside table. Tow was talking loudly about some sort of lizard he had seen and was spraying food whenever he talked. Scattered townsfolk and shopkeepers lounged around, relaxing after another busy workday. The worst of it though, was Fillmore sat in his and Sarge's normal table, forlornly picking through a salad. It was enough to make Sarge up and leave, but before he could try and slip away Flo called from the doorway, making everyone in the restaurant look his way.

“Hey there General! The usual?” She shouted, and by the coy grin on her face, Sarge just knew she and Ramone had planned something. He faked a half smile and shouted back, “Yes, if you don't mind!”, before stomping up to sit at the bar next to Ramone.

Doc took notice of the new patron and leaned over, “How's your hand doin’, Sargent?” Sheriff immediately noticed Sarge's hand, which had begun to show stains of blood through the bandaging.

“Woof, how'd you get that, Sarge?”, he asked, voice laced with trace amounts of concern through his malt.

“Grabbed a figurine too rough and it shattered in my hand. It's doing much better though Doctor, thanks.” Sarge replied. “I'll change the bandaging again tonight, I think.”, he added quickly before the doctor could lecture him on taking care of his wound.

“Good. Make sure to disinfect it as well.” He said before adding, “Oh, and you can just call me Doc, no need to be so formal.”

“Just Doc, huh?” Ramone said as Flo placed a hearty red stew with a glass of water in front of Sarge and sliding a ham sandwich to Doc. “Does that come with a story?” Ramone added with a grin, “or do we have to crack your cold facade first?”

“Maybe my origins will be revealed in due time.” Doc said evenly as he took a sandwich half in his hands. “But for now let’s enjoy the lovely food that's been placed before us.”

‘Amen’ Sarge thought. He could feel Fillmore's eye glancing over his back and he wanted to be gone as soon as physically possible. Just when he began to gulp down his last few spoonfuls he felt a large, warm, familiar hand on his back. He turned his head just enough to regard Fillmore but made no effort to make conversation. Ramone and Doc both glanced at them, smugly and curiously, respectively, before politely turning away. Sheriff, never one for social graces, made no such niceties, watching them over Doc’s shoulder.

“Ge- Sarge, do you think we could talk now?” Fillmore asked, his voice gentle.

Sarge thought about it for a moment before answering, “No. I don't think I'm ready yet.” It wasn't a complete lie, but just enough of one to make him feel bad all the same for not working through these relationship issues. “Just… give me time.” Fillmore removed his hand and began to turn the wheelchair around and leave the room.

Sarge couldn't stand watching him go. Even his hand being removed from Sarge's back made his heart ache.