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"We all need somebody to lean on..."
Jun. 10th, 2015 12:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokegetsinyoureyesWho? Isaac and Dave Tynan
What? Big brother interventions
When? Wednesday afternoon
Where? Dave's place
The papers had lain on the table of Isaac's small apartment in Oregon for weeks now. He knew he was procrastinating, and that for all intents and purposes, the best thing to do would've been to just sign them and send them back. They were even included with a second envelope, postage paid, to have them delivered back to a Mark Campbell at his office. And every night for weeks, he'd sit down, take the neatly stacked papers out of the envelope, and go to the first place marked for him to sign. He'd hold the pen in his hand, quietly reading over the legal jargon that basically meant, for all intents and purposes, that his ties to his husband were forever dissolved. They hardly had property to speak of that would need to be split up... They'd rented their marital apartment, had their own cars before they got married, and everything else had been split when Isaac moved out. There were no kids or pets to fight over, no shared property of any kind. In all reality, it was almost as if it had never happened... as if that day about two years ago had never even happened at all. It should have been easy. They'd been separated more of the time since their wedding than they'd been together. It was cut and dried -- signed, sealed, and delivered, but for the part where Isaac couldn't fucking sign.
Maybe it was just the fact that the papers were sent from New York that had Isaac balking. It had to be that. He wouldn't let himself think to much about any other possibilities, because they were too damn hard to think of. But no matter what his reasoning, he'd found himself on a flight to New York, unable to sleep for a fucking moment of it. A quick cab drive later, and he was right in front of his brother's apartment door, buzzing it to get Dave's attention. There was never any real telling when Dave was sleeping because of his job, but Isaac was here, and he hadn't really taken the time to think of any of that, instead focusing on the process of getting there.
When Dave answered the door, Isaac just gave him a sheepish wave with the hand that wasn't holding the manila envelope and his carry-on. "Hey, bro," he said, fingers still clutched tight around the divorce papers. "What's up?"
What? Big brother interventions
When? Wednesday afternoon
Where? Dave's place
The papers had lain on the table of Isaac's small apartment in Oregon for weeks now. He knew he was procrastinating, and that for all intents and purposes, the best thing to do would've been to just sign them and send them back. They were even included with a second envelope, postage paid, to have them delivered back to a Mark Campbell at his office. And every night for weeks, he'd sit down, take the neatly stacked papers out of the envelope, and go to the first place marked for him to sign. He'd hold the pen in his hand, quietly reading over the legal jargon that basically meant, for all intents and purposes, that his ties to his husband were forever dissolved. They hardly had property to speak of that would need to be split up... They'd rented their marital apartment, had their own cars before they got married, and everything else had been split when Isaac moved out. There were no kids or pets to fight over, no shared property of any kind. In all reality, it was almost as if it had never happened... as if that day about two years ago had never even happened at all. It should have been easy. They'd been separated more of the time since their wedding than they'd been together. It was cut and dried -- signed, sealed, and delivered, but for the part where Isaac couldn't fucking sign.
Maybe it was just the fact that the papers were sent from New York that had Isaac balking. It had to be that. He wouldn't let himself think to much about any other possibilities, because they were too damn hard to think of. But no matter what his reasoning, he'd found himself on a flight to New York, unable to sleep for a fucking moment of it. A quick cab drive later, and he was right in front of his brother's apartment door, buzzing it to get Dave's attention. There was never any real telling when Dave was sleeping because of his job, but Isaac was here, and he hadn't really taken the time to think of any of that, instead focusing on the process of getting there.
When Dave answered the door, Isaac just gave him a sheepish wave with the hand that wasn't holding the manila envelope and his carry-on. "Hey, bro," he said, fingers still clutched tight around the divorce papers. "What's up?"