twispitefic

Title: Shifting Colours, part 2
Author:

celticlonging
Fandom: Fifty Shades Trilogy
Rating: PG
Warnings: Ever so slight language
Word Count: 1726
Inspiration:

gehayi and

ketmakura’s sporking of Chapter Seven of Fifty Shades Darker.
Summary: Robert learns more about Christian Grey, much to his discomfort. He also meets Taylor.
Author’s Note: I don’t own anything from Fifty Shades. Robert, Kevin, Toby and Michael are characters in a story I’m writing. Much like Part 1, this spitefic ran away with me. AU. The large chunk of italics in the middle are a flashback.

“Are you enjoying the evening so far, Robert?” Carrick asked. The two men were standing by the dance floor, watching the couples swirl around to the music.

Robert couldn’t give an entirely honest answer to that question. “It’s certainly been an experience for me and the boys.”

“Speaking of which, I’m sorry I haven’t introduced you to my children properly. If I get the chance, I will.”

Robert stole a quick glance at his friend’s colours. Carrick was still more than slightly mortified, but he was smiling broadly.

He’s trying to pretend it never happened.

“You’ve told me a lot about them. I think I might know who Mia is from the auction. She’s the girl in dark green, isn’t she?”

Carrick nodded. “Yes. She said she had something special planned for the auction, but I had no idea that was what she had in mind. I should have told her to discuss it with me. Asking Christian’s girlfriend to take part was risky; Christian probably wasn’t happy about that.”

I know he wasn’t. Although, if it had been Nat being auctioned like she was a buffalo steak, I’d have been pretty angry.

“Ana’s been good for him,” Carrick mused. He was almost speaking to himself. “We’ve never seen him so happy and relaxed before.”

Robert barely held back a snort. Happy? Christian Grey hadn’t looked at all happy at this ball, except when the Lady in – no, when Ana had been giving him a handjob in public. He wanted to say something like: I can see emotions, Carrick; just how dumb do you think I am?

Then he thought of something else, and a shiver ran down his spine.

Whenever Robert and Carrick met, they would talk about their children. Out of all three of his children, Christian was the one Carrick talked about the most. He was genuinely proud of his son, but there was always a flicker of anxiety and fear underneath the pride and enthusiasm. Robert had always thought this meant Carrick was afraid for Christian in some way. Now he was beginning to think Carrick was afraid of his son.

“He’s very intelligent, and very talented. Oh, we don’t think he’s Gifted,” Carrick said quickly. “We’d know if he was. His birth mother didn’t show up on the Database.”

Robert was aware that Gifted people could easily hide their abilities. He knew several that had kept their powers secret from their own families.

The music stopped, prompting applause from the dancers and the watchers.

“Who was his mother?” Robert asked tentatively, worried he might be crossing a line.

“She was a prostitute,” Carrick replied. “She was also an addict; she killed herself when Christian was four. He was alone with her body for four days. He was in a terrible state when the police found him…”

That doesn’t surprise me. Any child would be traumatised by that. Robert was slightly taken aback: he hadn’t expected Carrick to answer his question straight away like that.

“He still has a lot of resentment towards her; he calls her the ‘crack whore’.”

Robert’s mouth fell open. He quickly shut it again, but Carrick didn’t seem to notice.

“He didn’t speak until he was six; that was when we adopted Mia. The piano lessons also helped; he’s become a brilliant pianist…”

Robert’s mind was whirling. Two years. The kid hadn’t spoken for two years. Hadn’t the Greys tried to get him therapy? Grace was a doctor; surely she’d know the best way to help a traumatised child?

After Michael had been kidnapped with four of his classmates, it had been suggested that he and the other children undergo therapy. They hadn’t been hurt physically, but they were clearly traumatised by their ordeal. The normally playful Michael had become quiet and subdued; however, when Robert had taken his youngest for his first therapy session, Michael hadn’t reacted well.

“I don’t want to do this.”

Rain landed lightly on the roof of the car and trickled down the windows. Robert leaned back against the seat, silently praying for strength and patience. He turned to look at his son. Michael’s small face was pale and his fists were clenched.

“Please, Dad,” he said. “I don’t want to. Can we go home?”

“We can go home when your appointment’s over, Mikey. But right now, you’re going to see Rosemary.”

Michael shook his head. “No.” His voice had a hint of stubbornness; Robert didn’t know whether to be pleased or frustrated at that. Michael was fearful rather than angry, but either way he still needed to be firm with his son.

“Yes, you are, Michael. You are going to see her. Now you can either walk in, or I carry you. What’s it going to – hey! Michael!”

Michael had quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and reached towards the car door, clearly intending to run away. Robert caught him by the waist and pulled him onto his lap, wrapping him securely in his arms. Michael tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but his father held him fast.

“Michael, stop it. That’s enough. Calm down.”

After a few moments, Michael stopped struggling. His colours – a swirling mixture of yellow and orange – slowly settled down.

“Do you trust me?” Robert asked once he knew his son was completely calm. “Michael, look at me. Do you trust me?”

The eight-year-old nodded, looking into his father’s face.

“You’re going to be OK. Now let’s go inside.”

Robert was brought out of his thoughts by a startled orange flicker in Carrick’s colours.

“Christian,” Carrick said, smiling warmly.

Robert turned around slowly, as if he had been told a tiger was behind him.

“Who’s this?” Christian Grey asked.

“Christian, this is Robert Mendoza. Robert, meet my son Christian.”

Christian shook hands with Robert. His eyes looked like grey chips of stone behind his mask. Robert fought back a shudder.

“Ana’s dancing with Dr Flynn,” Christian said to his father. His voice didn’t conceal his anger and impatience any more than his colours did. He sounded like a spoiled little boy whose favourite toy had been taken away from him.

Robert was tempted to say that Ana could dance with whoever she damn well pleased. Fortunately, he was prevented from doing so when the music stopped and Christian stalked away to Ana’s side.

“You said his birth mother wasn’t in the Database?” Robert asked Carrick.

“No.”

“What about his biological father?”

“Oh. We only ran his mother’s DNA through the Database; we didn’t think to check for Gifts in the paternal line. That’s a good idea, Robert.”

Now he’d officially met Christian Grey, Robert was feeling more and more uneasy. He looked around for his sons and spotted Kevin talking to an elderly couple.

“Do your boys like fireworks?” Carrick asked.

“Yes, they love them.”

“Good! The fireworks display tonight should be quite spectacular.”

xxx

Sparks from a brilliant red rocket fell from the sky and illuminated the faces of the watchers.

“Awesome,” Kevin whispered.

“I don’t think we’re even halfway through the display,” Toby replied.

Robert glanced around the crowd; all of them seemed to be captivated by the fireworks, except for a man in a dark suit and tie. He was one of the few people at the ball who wasn’t wearing a mask. His colours were bright yellow, and they were sputtering erratically like a candle in a breeze.

Robert walked quickly over to the man. “Hey, are you all right?”

The man was breathing heavily and his eyes were closed. Robert’s father had been in the army, and had suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. It looked as though this guy was having similar reactions.

“Do you need to sit down?”

A nod was the only reply.

“All right; let’s go inside.”

“Dad? Is everything OK?” Toby asked, walking up.

“I’m just going to sit with him for a few minutes.” Robert put a hand on the man’s shoulder, mouthed I got this at his son and escorted the man inside. Pulling out two chairs at a table that wasn’t near the exit, he got the man to sit down on one.

“Take deep breaths. You’re doing fine.” Robert noticed a jug of water on the table, along with clean glasses. He poured a generous amount of water into a glass and handed it to his companion, who sipped the clear liquid. Robert took off his mask and placed it on the table.

“Feeling any better?” he asked as the man’s breathing returned to normal.

“Yeah. Thanks.” The man smiled, his hazel eyes crinkling. He extended a hand. “The name’s Jason Taylor.”

“I’m Bob Mendoza.”

“Thank you for…you know.”

Robert grinned. “You’re welcome, Jason.”

“You here by yourself?”

“No, I’m here with my boys. Well, two of them aren’t really boys now. Kevin’s twenty-four, Toby’s twenty-two and Michael’s seventeen.” Robert watched Jason’s colours as they dimmed into a soft glimmer. The guy was good at controlling his emotions – or burying them. “Do you have children?”

“I have a daughter: her name’s Sophie.” Taylor’s eyes softened and his colours brightened briefly. “She’s seven years old; her mother’s got custody.”

Robert remembered the brunette’s words. “Rumour has it he got his bodyguard Taylor to do whatever he wants by threatening to stop his seven-year-old daughter’s medical treatment.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Does being a parent get any easier when they grow up?”

Robert smiled, shaking his head. “No. Wish I could say it does, but it doesn’t. No matter how old your children are, they will always need you.” Yesterday he’d found himself wishing he could call his father, but remembered he couldn’t any more. He missed his old man.

The sounds of the fireworks faded away. Jason sighed and got to his feet. “I should get going, just in case the boss man calleth.” His colours changed to a very deep purple that signified loathing, but they didn’t flare up.

Oh, he’s very good.

Robert stood up as well, reaching for his mask. “It was nice to meet you, Jason.”

Jason nodded and smiled, then turned and walked towards the exit.

We’re leaving as soon as I find the boys, Robert thought.

To be continued…

P.S. I figured that if Carrick didn’t have a problem with telling Ana about Christian’s past (remember, Ana’s only known Christian for approximately sixteen days), he’d tell Robert as well.