Characters: Rath and Tatum Donnelly
Setting: First the bar, then Tatum, Michi, and Sam's place, Early fall 2012
Rating: NSFW, Violence and Abusive Language
Content: Rath has something he needs to say
It was supposed to be one of those fun nights with friends that had no consequence, that didn't mean a thing at all. Naturally, it didn't go as planned. Rath had showed up at the bar with his fake ID and started drinking with some of his quodpot and hunting friends. It wasn't so bad at first, they just drank and fucked around like kids would but the drunker they all got, the worse the teasing got. It was like they knew exactly what to say to get Rath riled up since he was the most willing to fight out of all of them.
"Hey Rath, have you visited your sister's gay harem yet?" one of the kids teased. Rath, who had been having a good time for once
, instantly tensed. His hand went tight around the bottle of beer he was holding and he looked over at the other kid. "What the fuck did you just say about my sister?" he growled.
"Oh hey man," he grinned, putting his hands up in front of him. "I thought y'all would agree with me about your sister. The way she's livin'..." he whistled. "Sinful is what."
"Don't you fuckin' talk like you know a damn thing Jacob. Thing's is... more complicated than all that," he said, trying not to tense up anymore. He didn't know if it was possible but he thought he may very likely break the bottle he was holding. "Just shut your fuckin' mouth alright?"
"Rathy, you startin' to sympathize with those queers? Next thing you know this faggot will be totin' around a rainbow fuckin' flag and holdin' hands with that homo friend of his, Seth," another one of the boys teased, elbowing him.
"That's another one we gotta work on, Seth," Jacob said the boys name with disdain. "Fuckin' string him up to the quod posts and teach him a thing or two about bein' a man."
Rath didn't quite remember how he got there but in a matter of seconds he was standing over the other boy with a bloody bottle still shaking in his hand; Jacob was bleeding from a gash above his eyebrow. Rath spoke in a low, clear voice. "You ever even think about touchin' Seth or my sister, my Michiko, I will fuckin' have yer head. You understand me?"
"Sure do, ya fucking queer. I hear ya loud and clear!"
Rath grabbed Jacob's hair and held his head up as he began punching him right the face. Violence took over, three of their friends had to pull Rath away and he was still fighting. They started pulling him away from the bar. It wasn't until Rath's knees hit the pavement that he even realized he was outside. Jacob hobbled out of the bar behind him. "Hey! We're not fuckin' finished yet!" he threw himself on top of Rath and grabbed a handful of his red hair. Jacob pulled Rath's head back and smashed his face into the pavement.
Warm blood spurted from his nose and lip that was when he really lost. He was already dizzy from all the drinking but it got worse when his head took the hit. Rath struggled to gain control of the situation and somehow managed to roll around to his back so he didn't have to eat the pavement. He punched up but missed. Jacob grabbed his wrist. "You think this girly thing is gonna do any real damage?"
Rath knew it was his last resort and he didn't want to do it because he was already dizzy but there were no other options. He reared back and headbutted Jacob perfectly, causing the other boy to fall back uselessly on the pavement. Rath pulled himself up and looked around at his friends, who all just stared at the bloody mess in front of them.
"Some fuckin' friends," he growled, kicking Jacob in the side. "Fuck y'all," he turned on his heel and started back toward campus. Half way back to his dorm though, he realized he didn't want to be there and he didn't want to make Seth deal with his mess again, it didn't seem fair. So he stumbled along the street, stopped at the liquor store and bought some whiskey, then sat down on the curb outside and drank for a while. He knew there was really only one option left and chances were someone was awake but he didn't deserve their help.
He gathered himself off the curb and headed toward Tatum's apartment. It was the only place that would accept him anyways. He staggered up the steps and knocked on the door leaning heavily against the railing. He didn't know what he would even say; he had no clue what time it was, there was dry blood all over his face, he was still angry at the world, and he was drunker than a skunk. What could he even offer? Nothing.