Title: It's the Same Old Song
Author: Tinnean
Fandom: The Big Chill
Pairing: Harold/Alex, Sarah/Karen
Rating: PG-13
Feedback email: Tinneantoo@aol.com
Date: 1/2001
Series/Sequel: This is Part 4 in The Connection series, and
follows The Tracks of My Tears.
Disclaimer: They still belong to Lawrence Kasdan, and I'm just
filling in all the blanks.
Summary: Harold and Sarah's wedding day.
Warning: it's all implication this time around: m/m, f/f,
spoilers for the movie
Notes: // denotes the character's thoughts.
This one is for Al Bundy, shoe salesman extraordinaire
*****
It's the Same Old Song
Part 1/1
Harold stood in the sacristy, nervously adjusting the formal tie
that felt as if it was choking him. Sarah was due to arrive in
the quaint little church any minute now, and it was much too late
for him to be having second thoughts.
Alex was by his side, silently offering support. He wanted to
reach out and touch his friend, but if he did, he knew he would
wind up kissing him in front of God and the whole congregation.
"I'll go check out front and see if she's here yet," Alex
volunteered instead. He handed Harold the toke he had smuggled
into the church and was surreptitiously smoking. He turned away
to hurry outside.
He didn't see Harold curl his tongue around the end that had been
in the other man's mouth.
Swallowing a lungful of the smoke, he held it in, and distracted
himself with thoughts of a happier, less complicated time.
****
Harold's father had started out a salesman, risen to manager, and
by the time the younger Cooper was in high school, owned a couple
of shoe stores. Harold spent weekends and summer vacations
working behind the counter.
He had seen enough hammer toes, and curled his nose at enough
foot odor to last him a lifetime. It had been a relief when he
left for his freshman year of college.
He planned on getting his degree and shaking the dust of his
small town home from his heels.
At first he was drawn to art. He thought he'd paint surrealistic
scenes that would stir the soul. But he couldn't draw a straight
line.
Then he thought he'd play music that would bring the listener to
tears. Which he did, but only because he couldn't carry a tune in
a bucket. And besides, as far as he was concerned, the classics
started and ended with Motown.
Law bored him.
Blood made him queasy.
He was stricken with stage fright if he had to stand up in front
of an audience.
But he found he had a talent for numbers, and for devising an
interesting advertising campaign.
And he found a group of friends who meant more to him than he had
ever dreamed possible.
****
After graduation, after Nick walked out of his life, Harold
plunged into a period of excess. He screwed anything on two legs.
Male or female, it didn't matter.
He smoked pot, dropped a little Acid, and sometimes looked at
the world from the bottom of a bottle.
But there was Alex, the fair-haired boy of their group, ready to
pick up the pieces. He actually seemed to care for Harold.
And he was there when Harold got the news that Nick was so
seriously injured the doctors weren't sure if he would pull
through.
Nick's patrol had been decimated. The platoon leader had
triggered it off by stepping on a land mine. There was nothing
left of him, not even his dog tags. The soldiers behind him
caught the brunt of the blast, and Nick was wounded when shards
of their bone fragments ripped into his chest and groin.
Alex had made a very poor joke. "If he lives, he'll never play
the violin again!"
Harold knocked him down and would have left him, but Alex valued
his friendship too much, and was willing to grovel to make
amends.
They ended up making love, but there was a tinge of desperation
about it. School was finished, summer was over, and they needed
to go out and face the real world.
And then he got that phone call from Sarah.
****
Harold looked at his watch for the umpteenth time and shook it
and held it to his ear to make sure it was running.
Where the fuck was Sarah?
He slid a finger behind his tie and tried to pull it away from
his adam's apple. Alex strode into the tiny room just then and
brushed aside his fingers with impatient hands. "Stop messing
with your tie, Ha. It took me forever to fix it the last time!"
Harold scowled at the friend who was the glue that held their
group together, but subsided and let him straighten the bow and
smooth his lapels.
"Okay, that's better. You ready now?" Alex stroked Harold's jaw.
"What's the point, if Sarah isn't here yet?"
Alex wondered if his friend wanted her *not* to be there. "She's
here, man! Now let's get this show on the road!" //Before I try
to steal you away from this.//
Harold's mouth was suddenly so dry it felt as if it was filled
with cotton. Panic flared in his eyes, and Alex saw it.
"You *don't* have to do this, you know that, don't you?" He
threaded gentle fingers through his friend's soft brown hair.
"She's pregnant. I *have* to do this!" //But I wish you could
steal me away from this.//
Alex didn't say that it might not be Harold's baby. Why state the
obvious?
Harold gave a last tug to his tux jacket, ran a hand over his
neatly trimmed hair, trying to recapture the feel of Alex
touching him, and opened the door. The scent of the roses filling
the church was overpowering, sickly sweet, and reminded him of a
funeral. He thought for a moment his stomach might rebel.
He took a deep breath, then walked the few steps to stand before
the minister and turned to face down the aisle.
****
The woman he was marrying stood in the vestibule of the
picturesque church, the flowers she held visibly trembling in her
white-knuckled grip. The organist struck a chord and everyone
rose to their feet. Before Sarah could begin the journey that
would forever alter her life, Karen, her maid of honor, touched
her shoulder, drawing her wide-eyed gaze.
The brunette, exquisitely made up as usual, leaned forward and
pressed her lips to the pale mouth of the woman in white. "You
*don't* have to do this, Sarah."
Sarah squeezed Karen's hand and took a deep breath. "Yes, I do,
Karen. I've messed everything up so badly. I threw away what I
had with Harold for the illusion of desire that Alex offered me.
I hurt Harold very badly, and I intend to make it up to him."
"What about *us*?" the other woman hissed.
"Karen, I'm pregnant! If my parents knew about *us*, on top of
the baby, they'd have his and hers heart attacks!"
Karen looked at her reproachfully, her blue eyes welling up with
tears. "How can you joke at a time like this?" She muffled a sob.
"I'd stand by you..."
"I know you would, sweetie, but how would we live?"
"I'd get a job!"
Sarah cupped Karen's quivering chin. "I've done a fine job
ruining my life. I won't ruin yours as well." She kissed the
other woman softly. "*I* can't give you the security you're
looking for, that you need. You'd just wind up resenting me.
Harold's parents have agreed to look after the baby while I
continue med school, and Harold doesn't seem to mind. He's being
very good about this."
"Sarah..."
Sarah's eyes grew hard. "I *won't* fuck up again, Karen. Don't
make this any harder for me than it is. I'm going to marry
Harold."
"And live happily ever after?"
"Oh, no, sweetie. Happily ever after would have been with you!"
~End~