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[Compost] The Hero Closet
Title: The Hero Closet
Universe: Sharpay's Crossover Adventure - future fic (Compost?)
Relationship: Darren Bronson + Sharpay Evans (platonic)
Summary: Darren knows he should tell his mom he's a superhero, but he doesn't want to - his mom doesn't like teen superheroes, and he knows it. Some kids have to tell their parents they're gay, but Darren? Well... he only wishes it were so simple.
After a month and a half of officially fighting crime, you know you should tell Mom that you're the new Wildcat. It's not some big family secret. From what you understand, Dad wasn't the first superhero she met; he just happened to be the first one she dated. Mom works alongside one sometimes, whenever Aunt Maxine remembers she's a costumer in addition to working at UCLA. Heck, even Uncle Troy and Aunt Gabriella's son works as a superhero information broker. You've relied on him for information every now and then. In true form, Rafael Bolton got you the information you needed for last week's stakeout in three different languages. (Not that you were bilingual; you were monolingual, and that was mainly because you and Spanish class weren't on the best of terms.)
Whether your mom liked it or not, Darren Bronson was Wildcat III, and she would find out tonight. Everyone was just about to sit down to eat Dad's traditional shrimp papaya salad when Liv's show was interrupted by a breaking news bulletin. You winced. As much as you didn't want to leave, you were on duty tonight. So you gave Dad a Look and immediately rose to your feet. "Sorry, I just remembered that I've um---"
"He's got something," Dad helpfully called as you left him and Liv alone with Mom. Life would be so much easier if you let Dad break the news to Mom. You knew that. You just didn't want him in the line of fire. You remembered that fight between them, where Mom still couldn't get over Nightwing and Traci fighting alongside Dad, and you didn't want her wrath. Nor did you need it: you were very, very capable of defending yourself in battle. Your technique had improved significantly since that night with the Music Meister, not that anyone would let you forget it.
Really, guys? You hadn't meant to throw up all over his shoes! You'd even tried to pay for his shoes, but Uncle Bart wouldn't let you have any part to do with that "nonsense." ("Your money can go to better things," he'd insisted, "Like a Hawkmoth concert." How did he keep up with bands better than you did? You were pretty sure Uncle Bart was kind of old and past his prime.)
By the time you came back, the salad was mostly gone, save for the portion Dad had saved for you. Mom had already disappeared off to work, and Liv? Well, she was gossiping on the phone with her boyfriend (girlfriend? who was she dating this week?) and you didn't feel like bothering either of them. Glumly, you flopped onto your chair and picked at your salad with your fork. You really needed to tell Mom, and this wasn't the kind of news you could leave in a text.
You could just see it now:
YOU'RE GROUNDED YOUNG MAN
(even in texts, your mom had impeccable grammar.)
Thankfully, you didn't have to stoop to newfound social media just yet. Your next opportunity came a week later. You, Dad, Mom, and Liv planned on touring the Met and having lunch at a nearby French place, before Dad had to meet Uncle Bart & Uncle Kyle for some JSA stuff and Mom had work and Liv had one of those fancy Upper East Side parties you hated. Why she loved them, you didn't understand, and you knew she'd end up on Gossip Girl again without trying too hard.
Mom flashed her membership card, you got those small metallic buttons with the curly 'M' on it, and off you went to see the ancient Greek and Roman sculptures. Mom didn't particularly understand why you liked them so much, but she humored you and followed you through the exhibit. Dad had wandered off to see the Indian artwork, and Liv had accompanied him entirely out of pity. Or maybe she was dating someone Indian this week. You think she liked that Mehra kid, the one from Smallville? (Mehra was also a hero, but you weren't going to break that news to Liv.)
The statues always took your breath away. You imagined them not in pristine white, but in splashes of bright color (just like the people Uncle Kyle drew for his comics) and it made you feel like you were a citizen of Ancient Rome. Would they have approved of vigilantes? You knew they had ancient versions of everything - why not superheroes? Or supervillains? Surely there was a Latin word for that!
"Hey Mom, look!"
You felt like you were five years old again as you dragged her by the arm towards all of your favorite museum pieces. You could name them all by heart - there was the statue that looked kind of like your old history teacher, the army helmet that looked like the one the Reich had, and even the ancient jewelry Mom liked so much. She'd always admired them, even if she got a funny look just thinking about all the dirt they must've been buried under. She smiled, genuinely, as she turned her head to look at the engraved bathtub.
"I see it." It was genuine, almost even amused as she stood beside you and observed the tub. "I still can't get over the detail on this thing."
You grinned. "It's pretty awesome."
This was it, your perfect moment to tell Mom. You could finally come out of your self-imposed hero closet and set the truth free. Not that many kids were around to listen, and you were certain that you'd lost most of the tourists in another exhibit, so you rubbed the back of your neck nervously and glanced at her seriously. "Hey, Mom, I..."
A loud crack rippled through the museum. The air turned chilly, and you could feel your senses tingling. Something bad was happening outside the Met, and you needed to fight whoever was causing the mayhem. Reluctantly, you turned to Mom. "I've gotta go."
"The bathroom's down the---"
Oh Mom.
You turned left purposefully when she started calling out directions ("Darren honey, the bathroom's THAT way!") but promised her you'd be back - or that if you weren't, she could ground you and kidnap your XBox 720 for the week. You hadn't been playing many video games lately, not since you took up Dad's mantle, but you liked to think that you could give it up if Mom thought it a worthy punishment.
Judging by how she turned on her heels and stomped off towards Dad, you suspected you weren't going to see your 720 anytime soon. Whoever was causing mayhem had better be worth it. You promised yourself that if it weren't the Neo-Nazis, you were going to give them hell. Dodging all the tourists outside, you shot Nightwing (who had arrived on the scene) a grin and a thumbs-up before you disappeared into the nearest alleyway to transform. By the time you came back to rescue some unfortunate bystanders, Green Lantern (Uncle Kyle) and Starkid were holding off two members of the Reich.
What was it with the Neo-Nazis and wanting to take over the world long after World War II? Hadn't they learned anything from the Holocaust? You shook your head and continued to move bystanders back towards the museum and other safe spots. Guess not, if those punks actually thought they were being cool kids.
"You're an insult to the Jewish community!" You growled at them, not particularly keen on letting them know you were half-Jewish (a quarter Jewish? Granddad hadn't been Jewish, and you were certain Mom's family was as Christian as they came).
Uncle Kyle snorted. "I think they're more of a joke at this rate."
"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" One of the punks snarled back, in time for Starkid and Nightwing to ram the idiot into the side of the nearest building. Go Syl and Ash!
You looked at them for a moment before shrugging your shoulders in defeat and resuming your duty. They were a joke, yeah, but they were also ridiculous - and they'd also caused you to kiss goodbye to your 720 and remain in that stupid hero closet. Uncle Kyle sheepishly smiled at you before he created a glowing, giant green fist and snatched up the rest of the Reich effortlessly. You, Starkid, and Nightwing helped him tie them up and subdue them in time for the police to take them away to Iron Heights.
Uncle Kyle shooed everyone else so that he could work on the paperwork with them. "No use in the kids dealing with this yet," he murmured when he was sure the cops couldn't hear him. Any other time, you might've been insulted, but right now, you were relieved. You really needed to get back to Mom and tell her just how much this job meant to you.
Detransforming in the alleyway (and scaring the crap out of some would-be rapist, who you punched immediately afterwards), you jogged towards the restaurant Dad had mentioned in a text and held the doorknob tightly.
Just before you walked in, Ash stopped by and gave you a quick hug. "Hey, sorry we couldn't hang out for real."
You shrugged. "No big deal."
He glanced over at your family, seated inside, and grinned. "Have fun - and tell Liv I said hi."
His crush on Liv was kind of cute, even if a bit weird. You rolled your eyes. "I'll try to." Then you opened the door and headed to them with a slightly lopsided smile as you joined them for lunch. You'd guessed correctly: with the mayhem, Dad's JSA thing had been cancelled for the day.
"Sorry I'm late."
Dad smiled at you knowingly before he handed you an extra menu. "No worries. You just made it for dessert." In other words, they were about to leave. You felt guilty - just how long would these scheduling conflicts occur?
You took the menu, but didn't bother to look at it as you set it down at your place. Guiltily, you looked at Mom. There was just no way that you could hold it in any longer. "Mom, I really need to tell you. I'm..."
"It's okay." Before you knew what was happening, she scooted next to you and held you tightly in her arms. "You were meeting your boyfriend outside, weren't you?'
Wait. What?
Boyfriend?
YOU?
Liv was the one who liked experimentation. Why else would she change lovers at the drop of a hat? You weren't into that. Hell, you were pretty sure you liked boobs. Why did she even come to that conclusion? The last thing she saw, Ash had just given you a hug---
Really? If you were going to have a fake boyfriend, couldn't he at least meet your standards? Ash's cool, but he's a soccer jock, and you don't spend too much time with jocks. They tend to be bad for your lungs, your bones, your constitution, and your general well-being, considering Liv usually stomps the floor with you - even when she's in a wheelchair.
Mom takes your silence as a compliment, and she's practically crowing as she pats you on the head, "You know I don't care about that kind of thing."
Of course she doesn't. You're the one who doesn't want to be mistaken for gay here! Without really meaning to, you bury your face in your hands. "I'm not gay."
"You don't have to remain in the closet, sweetheart."
"But I'm really not." You practically growled it out as you pushed her aside. Now that you were sure no one else could hear you, you attempt to look apologetic as you explained, "Mom, I.... look. The Wildcat that's been fighting for the past couple of months? It's not Dad. It's me."
"Oh." Mom looked surprised for a moment, before staring down at your dirty clothes and then at your more well-toned arms. "That would explain why Liv's not schooling you as much."
Ouch. Even your parents think you're a ninety-pound weakling? That hurt, and you knew you could handle yourself in most situations by now. Still, Mom went on to say, "Why'd you take so long to tell me? Your dad and Liv seemed to know, but..."
"You fought with Dad when he got it," you said, unable to actually say the word 'cancer,' trying to swallow your breath. "You said that Syl and Ash should've been with the Titans. If you got that mad over kids not related to you, what would you say to your own son?"
You'd never seen Mom look so distraught, not so genuinely upset as she hugged you again and stroked your hair like you were five years old again. "I'm sorry." She said softly. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Dad and Liv smiling as they dug into their nutella crepes, and you honestly didn't mind their sympathy. On the contrary, it felt kind of nice to be out in the open about your little secret.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not, Darren." Mom really looked at you, as if she were seeing you for the first time. "If this is the life you want, it's the life we're going to support, alright?" There was a slight pause before she asked, "And you're really sure you're not--"
"I'm still dating Adelia," You insisted. "I'm pretty sure I'd know by now if I were."
"If you say so."
Judging from her smirk, you knew you'd get a phone call from Uncle Ryan tonight, the kind where he'd ask you after several roundabout questions, and the kind where he'd just laugh and hang up on you before calling you back to apologize but he's sorry, your mom is ridiculous and he should've really known better by now. (It happened a lot.) You didn't mind too much, calls from Uncle Ryan were nice and kind of down-to-earth.
Still, you had finally told her, and the world hadn't ended (yet). Some things were better in the open, where you liked it, even if Mom never did get over the fact that you weren't gay. Secretly, you suspected that she wished that you'd been hiding in a different closet. At least she'd had experience with the more normal one.
Universe: Sharpay's Crossover Adventure - future fic (Compost?)
Relationship: Darren Bronson + Sharpay Evans (platonic)
Summary: Darren knows he should tell his mom he's a superhero, but he doesn't want to - his mom doesn't like teen superheroes, and he knows it. Some kids have to tell their parents they're gay, but Darren? Well... he only wishes it were so simple.
After a month and a half of officially fighting crime, you know you should tell Mom that you're the new Wildcat. It's not some big family secret. From what you understand, Dad wasn't the first superhero she met; he just happened to be the first one she dated. Mom works alongside one sometimes, whenever Aunt Maxine remembers she's a costumer in addition to working at UCLA. Heck, even Uncle Troy and Aunt Gabriella's son works as a superhero information broker. You've relied on him for information every now and then. In true form, Rafael Bolton got you the information you needed for last week's stakeout in three different languages. (Not that you were bilingual; you were monolingual, and that was mainly because you and Spanish class weren't on the best of terms.)
Whether your mom liked it or not, Darren Bronson was Wildcat III, and she would find out tonight. Everyone was just about to sit down to eat Dad's traditional shrimp papaya salad when Liv's show was interrupted by a breaking news bulletin. You winced. As much as you didn't want to leave, you were on duty tonight. So you gave Dad a Look and immediately rose to your feet. "Sorry, I just remembered that I've um---"
"He's got something," Dad helpfully called as you left him and Liv alone with Mom. Life would be so much easier if you let Dad break the news to Mom. You knew that. You just didn't want him in the line of fire. You remembered that fight between them, where Mom still couldn't get over Nightwing and Traci fighting alongside Dad, and you didn't want her wrath. Nor did you need it: you were very, very capable of defending yourself in battle. Your technique had improved significantly since that night with the Music Meister, not that anyone would let you forget it.
Really, guys? You hadn't meant to throw up all over his shoes! You'd even tried to pay for his shoes, but Uncle Bart wouldn't let you have any part to do with that "nonsense." ("Your money can go to better things," he'd insisted, "Like a Hawkmoth concert." How did he keep up with bands better than you did? You were pretty sure Uncle Bart was kind of old and past his prime.)
By the time you came back, the salad was mostly gone, save for the portion Dad had saved for you. Mom had already disappeared off to work, and Liv? Well, she was gossiping on the phone with her boyfriend (girlfriend? who was she dating this week?) and you didn't feel like bothering either of them. Glumly, you flopped onto your chair and picked at your salad with your fork. You really needed to tell Mom, and this wasn't the kind of news you could leave in a text.
You could just see it now:
hey mom guess what? i'm a superhero :)
YOU'RE GROUNDED YOUNG MAN
(even in texts, your mom had impeccable grammar.)
Thankfully, you didn't have to stoop to newfound social media just yet. Your next opportunity came a week later. You, Dad, Mom, and Liv planned on touring the Met and having lunch at a nearby French place, before Dad had to meet Uncle Bart & Uncle Kyle for some JSA stuff and Mom had work and Liv had one of those fancy Upper East Side parties you hated. Why she loved them, you didn't understand, and you knew she'd end up on Gossip Girl again without trying too hard.
Mom flashed her membership card, you got those small metallic buttons with the curly 'M' on it, and off you went to see the ancient Greek and Roman sculptures. Mom didn't particularly understand why you liked them so much, but she humored you and followed you through the exhibit. Dad had wandered off to see the Indian artwork, and Liv had accompanied him entirely out of pity. Or maybe she was dating someone Indian this week. You think she liked that Mehra kid, the one from Smallville? (Mehra was also a hero, but you weren't going to break that news to Liv.)
The statues always took your breath away. You imagined them not in pristine white, but in splashes of bright color (just like the people Uncle Kyle drew for his comics) and it made you feel like you were a citizen of Ancient Rome. Would they have approved of vigilantes? You knew they had ancient versions of everything - why not superheroes? Or supervillains? Surely there was a Latin word for that!
"Hey Mom, look!"
You felt like you were five years old again as you dragged her by the arm towards all of your favorite museum pieces. You could name them all by heart - there was the statue that looked kind of like your old history teacher, the army helmet that looked like the one the Reich had, and even the ancient jewelry Mom liked so much. She'd always admired them, even if she got a funny look just thinking about all the dirt they must've been buried under. She smiled, genuinely, as she turned her head to look at the engraved bathtub.
"I see it." It was genuine, almost even amused as she stood beside you and observed the tub. "I still can't get over the detail on this thing."
You grinned. "It's pretty awesome."
This was it, your perfect moment to tell Mom. You could finally come out of your self-imposed hero closet and set the truth free. Not that many kids were around to listen, and you were certain that you'd lost most of the tourists in another exhibit, so you rubbed the back of your neck nervously and glanced at her seriously. "Hey, Mom, I..."
A loud crack rippled through the museum. The air turned chilly, and you could feel your senses tingling. Something bad was happening outside the Met, and you needed to fight whoever was causing the mayhem. Reluctantly, you turned to Mom. "I've gotta go."
"The bathroom's down the---"
Oh Mom.
You turned left purposefully when she started calling out directions ("Darren honey, the bathroom's THAT way!") but promised her you'd be back - or that if you weren't, she could ground you and kidnap your XBox 720 for the week. You hadn't been playing many video games lately, not since you took up Dad's mantle, but you liked to think that you could give it up if Mom thought it a worthy punishment.
Judging by how she turned on her heels and stomped off towards Dad, you suspected you weren't going to see your 720 anytime soon. Whoever was causing mayhem had better be worth it. You promised yourself that if it weren't the Neo-Nazis, you were going to give them hell. Dodging all the tourists outside, you shot Nightwing (who had arrived on the scene) a grin and a thumbs-up before you disappeared into the nearest alleyway to transform. By the time you came back to rescue some unfortunate bystanders, Green Lantern (Uncle Kyle) and Starkid were holding off two members of the Reich.
What was it with the Neo-Nazis and wanting to take over the world long after World War II? Hadn't they learned anything from the Holocaust? You shook your head and continued to move bystanders back towards the museum and other safe spots. Guess not, if those punks actually thought they were being cool kids.
"You're an insult to the Jewish community!" You growled at them, not particularly keen on letting them know you were half-Jewish (a quarter Jewish? Granddad hadn't been Jewish, and you were certain Mom's family was as Christian as they came).
Uncle Kyle snorted. "I think they're more of a joke at this rate."
"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" One of the punks snarled back, in time for Starkid and Nightwing to ram the idiot into the side of the nearest building. Go Syl and Ash!
You looked at them for a moment before shrugging your shoulders in defeat and resuming your duty. They were a joke, yeah, but they were also ridiculous - and they'd also caused you to kiss goodbye to your 720 and remain in that stupid hero closet. Uncle Kyle sheepishly smiled at you before he created a glowing, giant green fist and snatched up the rest of the Reich effortlessly. You, Starkid, and Nightwing helped him tie them up and subdue them in time for the police to take them away to Iron Heights.
Uncle Kyle shooed everyone else so that he could work on the paperwork with them. "No use in the kids dealing with this yet," he murmured when he was sure the cops couldn't hear him. Any other time, you might've been insulted, but right now, you were relieved. You really needed to get back to Mom and tell her just how much this job meant to you.
Detransforming in the alleyway (and scaring the crap out of some would-be rapist, who you punched immediately afterwards), you jogged towards the restaurant Dad had mentioned in a text and held the doorknob tightly.
Just before you walked in, Ash stopped by and gave you a quick hug. "Hey, sorry we couldn't hang out for real."
You shrugged. "No big deal."
He glanced over at your family, seated inside, and grinned. "Have fun - and tell Liv I said hi."
His crush on Liv was kind of cute, even if a bit weird. You rolled your eyes. "I'll try to." Then you opened the door and headed to them with a slightly lopsided smile as you joined them for lunch. You'd guessed correctly: with the mayhem, Dad's JSA thing had been cancelled for the day.
"Sorry I'm late."
Dad smiled at you knowingly before he handed you an extra menu. "No worries. You just made it for dessert." In other words, they were about to leave. You felt guilty - just how long would these scheduling conflicts occur?
You took the menu, but didn't bother to look at it as you set it down at your place. Guiltily, you looked at Mom. There was just no way that you could hold it in any longer. "Mom, I really need to tell you. I'm..."
"It's okay." Before you knew what was happening, she scooted next to you and held you tightly in her arms. "You were meeting your boyfriend outside, weren't you?'
Wait. What?
Boyfriend?
YOU?
Liv was the one who liked experimentation. Why else would she change lovers at the drop of a hat? You weren't into that. Hell, you were pretty sure you liked boobs. Why did she even come to that conclusion? The last thing she saw, Ash had just given you a hug---
Really? If you were going to have a fake boyfriend, couldn't he at least meet your standards? Ash's cool, but he's a soccer jock, and you don't spend too much time with jocks. They tend to be bad for your lungs, your bones, your constitution, and your general well-being, considering Liv usually stomps the floor with you - even when she's in a wheelchair.
Mom takes your silence as a compliment, and she's practically crowing as she pats you on the head, "You know I don't care about that kind of thing."
Of course she doesn't. You're the one who doesn't want to be mistaken for gay here! Without really meaning to, you bury your face in your hands. "I'm not gay."
"You don't have to remain in the closet, sweetheart."
"But I'm really not." You practically growled it out as you pushed her aside. Now that you were sure no one else could hear you, you attempt to look apologetic as you explained, "Mom, I.... look. The Wildcat that's been fighting for the past couple of months? It's not Dad. It's me."
"Oh." Mom looked surprised for a moment, before staring down at your dirty clothes and then at your more well-toned arms. "That would explain why Liv's not schooling you as much."
Ouch. Even your parents think you're a ninety-pound weakling? That hurt, and you knew you could handle yourself in most situations by now. Still, Mom went on to say, "Why'd you take so long to tell me? Your dad and Liv seemed to know, but..."
"You fought with Dad when he got it," you said, unable to actually say the word 'cancer,' trying to swallow your breath. "You said that Syl and Ash should've been with the Titans. If you got that mad over kids not related to you, what would you say to your own son?"
You'd never seen Mom look so distraught, not so genuinely upset as she hugged you again and stroked your hair like you were five years old again. "I'm sorry." She said softly. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Dad and Liv smiling as they dug into their nutella crepes, and you honestly didn't mind their sympathy. On the contrary, it felt kind of nice to be out in the open about your little secret.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not, Darren." Mom really looked at you, as if she were seeing you for the first time. "If this is the life you want, it's the life we're going to support, alright?" There was a slight pause before she asked, "And you're really sure you're not--"
"I'm still dating Adelia," You insisted. "I'm pretty sure I'd know by now if I were."
"If you say so."
Judging from her smirk, you knew you'd get a phone call from Uncle Ryan tonight, the kind where he'd ask you after several roundabout questions, and the kind where he'd just laugh and hang up on you before calling you back to apologize but he's sorry, your mom is ridiculous and he should've really known better by now. (It happened a lot.) You didn't mind too much, calls from Uncle Ryan were nice and kind of down-to-earth.
Still, you had finally told her, and the world hadn't ended (yet). Some things were better in the open, where you liked it, even if Mom never did get over the fact that you weren't gay. Secretly, you suspected that she wished that you'd been hiding in a different closet. At least she'd had experience with the more normal one.
no subject
This may not have been intentional but it made me smile because of Gab's "yes in every language" thing in HSM3. :D
Whoops I lol'd.
MOMPAY CONTINUES TO BE HILARIOUS
You have made Liv's love life a source of comedy and I love it.
I kind of see the Evanses as Christmas and Easter Christians at most :|a this isn't a "U WRONG EDIT THIS", it is more contemplation of headcanon. (Now, if this was Tomvannah...)
It's a good thing no one's home because I did one of my part amused, part appalled squawks.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
omg shar pls
That's... kind of heartbreaking :(
no subject
It wasn't, re: Rafael getting info in three languages. XD That was an amazing coincidence, since Rafe takes after his mom more than his dad.
Mompay is always a riot, and ngl, I think humor is how Darren copes with not knowing Liv's love life. I'm pretty darn certain it's not actually as flighty as he makes it out to be - he just doesn't care about it, nor does he really want to know the sordid details.
As for the Evanses, that makes sense! I just figured they were more Christian than Darren's used to since lol, Jewish dad XD
hahaha yeah, that may have been prompted by some stuff going on campus lately 8( i didn't want to be super realistic but i felt he was in a dark alleyway, it was deserted, crap could happen.
yeah, the ending is what i'm hesitating on for that reason - it's a cute happy bubbly fic and then WHAM, SUDDEN HEARTBREAKING OBSERVATION. I wasn't sure if it even fit.