LOTR HS AU (1)

"You just . . . left him there?" It's 4 miles away, and after a game . . .  His father gives him one look, and Boromir can't say anything else. Instead, he grabs his keys and heads for the door.

Boromir isn't surprised, either. Nothing their father does surprises him anymore, but he can't help wishing things were different. He does what he can, but it never seems like enough. How could it ever possibly be enough?

It's raining now. Of course it is. As he opens the garage, he sees a sodden figure jogging slowly up the driveway. 

Faramir's chest is heaving; his eyes are red, and his shoulders sag heavily. Their eyes meet for a long moment. 

Nothing I do will ever be enough to make up for this. Boromir knows that, but he's still going to do whatever he can to make this right. He slings one arm around his brother's drooping shoulders and walks him inside. He's enough taller that Faramir doesn't see his reddening, burning eyes.

LOTR HS AU (1)

"Your brother would have made the play."

Of course he would have, Dad. He's the perfect son. Your favorite son. You probably wish he was your only son. "Would you have rather seen me break my arm?"

"Of course," is the instant reply. Faramir isn't sure what else he expected. A curt nod to hold back the pained resignation.

"Since he's out for the season, I guess . . . I'll have to try harder."

His father snorts. "Try harder? You won't be back on the field unless you can prove to me that you're useful. Consider yourself permanently benched."

Faramir is frozen, numb. Torn between rage and disbelief. As the coach shoulders past him through the locker room door, he flicks off the lights. "And you can get a ride home with one of your little friends. I don't play chauffeur to losers."

As he hears the outer door close behind his father, Faramir falls against a locker and slides to the floor.