Home: Donut

Fandom: Red vs Blue
Characters: Donut
Word Count: 353
Warnings: Conversion therapy.
Note: I don't even know where my mind was when I wrote this one. I think I'd been reading too much about conversion therapy and projected it onto poor Donut.

Donut rocked softly, the creak of the rocking chair against the old porch somewhat soothing. He stared down at the hands in his lap instead of out into the beautiful blue sky. He completely disregarded the rolling clouds, a sight that once took his breath away. He smiled, but his eyes were vacant. The screen door slammed beside him. Donut's eyes came back into focus, but he didn't look up. His father's work boots came into view. Donut heard the strike of a lighter and the smell of smoke filled the air. He hated that smell. His fingers gripped each other like life jackets.

"Dinner'll be ready soon," the gruff voice spat.

"I'm not hungry," Donut replied.

"Don't make your mom worry, Donut."

"You don't care about your parents! Look what you're doing to them! How do you think they feel? They're blaming themselves right now for your unnatural urges! Is that what you want?"

Donut could almost feel the spit on his face, flying from the rabid lips of his counselor. He could feel the heat of his breath, the pressure of his fingers on his arm as he jerked him around. He nodded his head at his father and smiled harder, almost desperately, as he looked up.

"Yes sir."

His father stared back at him dully. Donut couldn't read anything in his face, but the man had never been very expressive. He gave a grunt of acknowledgment and turned back to the house. Once the door slammed shut again, Donut dropped his head. He could feel the weight of every word shouted at him fall down on his shoulders. One after the other, they showered down around him. Faggot, freak, disgraceful, disgusting, impure, sinful, evil, sissy, gay, gay, gay! It had been a curse word in that place. It was something they shouted at him when he'd done wrong. It was something they yelled into his face when he didn't want to learn about cars or talked about interior design or made just the wrong motion with his hand.

But that was over now. Because he was better.

He was normal.