The Consequence of Silence

The Consequence of Silence

(Originally posted on my fanfiction account)

Author's note: I REALLY love this show, and I really love all of the characters in it. I happened to accidentally stumble upon this show while watching reviews of related media, and by giving it a chance, I found it to be one of the most meaningful and mesmerizing experiences that I related to very well, on a spiritual and emotional level. On more than one occasion, these stories relating to these very well created characters made me cry. It's a matter of quality and effort these writers and certainly the creator put into that makes this show the original and honest piece of art that it is. In the face of it's last season already aired, closing this show to its finality, I feel like, in my opinion, these characters all deserve some degree of happiness. This is how I feel about these characters, so this is how I wrote it and I do respect the true ending of the show either way. I don't own it, but I adore it. Also, I'm a huge fan of Todd, and I do respect his asexuality, so I tried very hard to align with that and be realistic to relationships and who they are. This is my interpretation of the last season, and how I see the characters if things played out a bit differently. This begins right before Bojack accepts the drama professor role at Wesleyan University.

Warnings: Massive spoilers for character arcs, tons of cursing, adult content, sexual implications and content, not for anyone under 18 years old. Spoilers for entire show, and finale. Romantic relationships implied or canon: Todd/Bojack, Guy/Diane, Judah/Princess Carolyn. Every line break signifies a time jump of varying degrees, a few days, weeks, months, etc.

—

"You're just a piece of shit," Bojack mumbled under his breath, taking a long inhale of an almost burnt out cigarette, almost burning his mouth in the process. He winced slightly. "You are worthless. You push everyone away from you. You can't do anything good for anyone."

Sighing with a slight cough, he got up from the edge of the pool he was sitting near.

He had pushed everyone away to varying degrees: Princess Carolyn, Charlotte, Diane, Mr. Peanutbutter, his supposed daughter Hollyhock who turned out to not be his daughter, Herb, Sarah Lynn, Wanda, Gina, his mother, and well, shit, just about everyone.

Everyone had their own way to tell him off too, and everyone either left his life entirely or stayed, but the ones who stayed were few and far between.

Todd was different. He straight up told him exactly how shitty of a person he actually could be, and to stop excusing it. To change the behavior instead of covering for it and stop letting it eat him alive with morose guilt and more petty behavior.

Much to his own hidden regret, their friendship was not completely over and yet not officially in an active state. His friendship with Todd was in a sort of painful limbo, and as much as Bojack wanted to ignore how it hurt him, he realized that was why he had started to even drink last night. He felt entirely and utterly alone.

Diane told the truth too, in her own branded matter of fact, sort of bullshit covered way. She had her own troubles and interpersonal issues, which, in her own way, made her stronger than ever yet still flawed within her own narrow viewpoint. She was almost as selfish and petty as Bojack was, and they were soulmates in that way, but very unsuited for one another in every other way.

Todd, however, could get him to sometimes actually stop and think in a sane point of view to truly understand about what he did and just how much he effected that person or event.

Todd, who was just a young man that never left one of his house parties; living with him essentially rent free for just over five years, literally doing anything and everything to annoy him. Never picking up his shit. Never doing anything but bugging him.

Fuck, but he couldn't lie to himself. He did care about that zany and wacky person that always got into the most amazingly weird and outrageous scenarios and schemes, who wrote a strange but wonderful rock opera that could've been great—-save for Bojack fucking it up on purpose just so Todd wouldn't leave him for good. He never felt worse for doing that shady shit to Todd. And at one of the worst points in his relationship with him, he had to fuck it up with Todd even more when he had sex with Emily.

At least, he thought, he was able to help Todd escape that improv cult. He couldn't properly express himself without being an ass to anyone, especially to Todd, and by giving a brief and half assed apology to him about missing his graduation and then promptly begging him to come back home, he barely skimmed the tip of the iceberg of his true sentiments for this person. It had been locked in him for too long, and now, as Todd wasn't in his life anymore, his feelings were starting to slowly and painfully unravel.

After every failed relationship, be it romantic, family, friend—-he regretted them all. Mostly, because he really messed them up somehow by his own hubristic ego that managed to make himself feel simultaneously like a loser and on top of the world. He couldn't let go of the fact that he ruined every single one of them.

His mother being the first and last exception since she was a horrible person and abused him pretty extensively since before he could even trot. Even that he coped with at her funeral, finally letting that piece of double edged trauma go in his own way.

One relationship that seemed to always be a buffer for the trauma, pain, fear, and regret of all of this was happy go lucky, silly best friend proclaiming Todd. Other than Princess Carolyn and Diane, Todd was someone who you could depend on to be there. Just, there. Someone you know that's around, a friendly face that's familiar and safe, where they were where you could reach them and know just how much you meant to them. He didn't need Todd, but at the same time, he really fucking needed him. He just didn't realize it until he left his life and his house.

Grabbing a third round of scotch on the rocks, lounging on the very couch he had let Todd sleep on for most of that time that now seemed forever ago.

"Ugh, fucking hangover. I got a bitch of a headache." Yes, he drank a bit last night too. And because of that fuck up, he decided to keep drinking today too. Cause, fuck it.

He decided to call someone with a sensible, tough cookie that won't crack under pressure type of attitude.

"Ohh, hey, how's my favorite client of all time doing?"

The familiar voice crackled through the phone and he wished she was there. She sounded so far away and yet the distance seemed muted. He knew she wasn't so far that they couldn't see one another if they really wanted to. He realized he didn't want her, really. He was just a selfish prick who wanted everyone to feel bad for him.

He had such a terrible migraine he started wishing that Diane was there too to nurse him through his hangover and be at his own pity party.

"Princess CAROLYN, my favorite..."

"I'll stop you right there, bud. How's about we grab a cup of joe and go over a couple of scripts?"

Bojack groaned. "I don't know, it's way too early," he whined.

"It's 12:27 in the afternoon, Bojack. And it's a week day."

Bojack's puzzle pieces on the floor mentality grasped at the other thing taunting his head for some reason. "So, how is your nanny doing?"

There was a brief moment of silence. "You mean Todd? Why'd you call him a nanny?" She said in an annoyed huff, a bit confused why he'd bring up his long time friend in such a impersonal way.

Bojack almost physically winced at the name, but felt a slight in his heart, making it feel heavy in his chest. "Ummm. Duh. And I called him a nanny, because he is a nanny."

"He's great. Does the most fantastic nanny bit I ever seen. Anyway, what you say we-"

"I mean, how is he, really?" He started to slur his speech. "And, ho-how're you? We really should see each other soon. I miss you."

"Bojack, I don't have time for this chit chat. If you want to talk to Todd, call him instead."

"I can't though. I-I messed it all up. With you. Him. I'm done. I'm lost." He really felt like crying, but then promptly told himself to man up and stop being a bitch.

She audibly sighed. "Bojack, you know this is temporary. You'll move on and get back on top. However, your lack of respecting and understanding of how even rudimentary relationships work at a pivotal point where you can do the right thing or not, is why things do not work-"

Click.

He hung up and slammed the phone on the coffee table.

A strange thought came across his mind as he started to examine the worn out couch. It smelled like something good. The fabric smelled like something mellow and woodsy, like a forest and pine needles. "Is that what he smelled like?" He stuck his nose in the cushion and breathed it in. He scowled at his almost aroused reaction to it. "Fuck it, I might be gay. That doesn't sound or look right."

Bojack whistled in a flustered way, thinking about when Todd came out as asexual to him. It actually made so much sense to Bojack later in hindsight; he just never really put all the signs together that were glaringly obvious.

He was too hungover and too drunk at the same time to realize his true curiosity, and to fully understand it. "Too stupid to fix my hangover and go apologize for everything. Stupid piece of shit. Just keep drinking, cause yeah, that'll help your migraine, idiot."

He ended up snoring a few minutes later and sleeping until seven at night.

Waking up, he felt better, but not sure of how to confront the lonely, dark inside of his house. It felt as though he were trapped inside of it, like a tomb.

He made himself a Bloody Mary and whipped up a quick sandwich, eating it in two bites.

Less than ten minutes later, he vomited up most of it in the kitchen sink and felt light headed.

Then he did something even more stupid than all of the cumulative amount of stupid things he did that entire day. He called Todd.

It rang three times, and Bojack was about to hang up until he heard a familiar, "Sup?"

So friendly and almost nice to hear, Bojack almost smiled, but felt like it was out of place.

"Uh, hey Todd. Ho-how's it going?" He coughed a little, still feeling the after effects of throwing up. His stomach was in knots and his heart rate was rapidly rising.

There was a shuffling sound, and a sound of a baby making babbling sounds in the background. "Oh, uh, hey Bojack. What's up? I'm actually working right now. Watching cutie pie."

Bojack inwardly thought that was the most adorable fucking thing ever that Todd called the child he watched for a living, "Cutie pie," but instead Bojack said, "Ugh, kids. They're so annoying. They always need things."

"It's the best job I have ever had," Todd said so simply that it made the other shut up for a moment. The silence was uncomfortable, and Bojack hated it but refused to break it.

"So, uh, not to be rude, but what did you want to talk about? It's been a long time since we've spoken at all." Todd said in a decidedly disappointed tone.

Trying to think of how to respond, as he didn't even really know, he trampled over his feet and was banging against things unintentionally in his kitchen, sighing at himself. He stumbled over to the couch. Todd's couch.

"You smell nice. Did ya know that, like a fucking forest or somethin'."

"Oh, haha, Bojack. You're drunk, aren't you? You were always the best at making fun of me." He cleared his throat. "You shouldn't be drinking. It's not good," Todd said in much quieter voice.

"No! I'm not making fun." He laid his head back and smelled the cushion again. "It's like, a drug, your scent is. Even after getting rid of the old couch, the new one smells like you, and it's pretty nice. It is definitely not a joke. See! I'm not laughing." Though he laughed anyway, realizing at that moment just how incredibly immature he was being.

"Look, I got to go. I guess I'll talk to you another time when you're not wasted."

"No, wait!"

A moment of silence.

"Hello? Todd?"

"I'm here."

Bojack sighed in relief. "Can I see you this weekend? Like, for old times sake. As friends. Please?"

Todd made a humming noise and said, "Possibly. You never made an effort before to see me. What is it about?"

Bojack stammered out a response, "Uh, n-no reason. To catch up. I wanna start our friendship over, if it's possible. We can grab a bite. I don't fucking know, Todd. Just something." He bit his tongue since he wanted to say please again at the end, but he didn't want to show just how pathetically alone he really felt.

"Okay. Your treat."

"I didn't fucking say that!" Bojack barked in a grouchy voice.

He heard Todd laugh in a deep chuckle and say, "Good night! Get some rest."

"Thanks. 'Night." Bojack hung up and sighed.

'Why the hell am I going through all of this trouble? What the heck am I thinking?' Bojack thought in a swirl of troubled and slightly uncomfortable feelings and got up. He went to the freezer for some ice and put it in a ziplock bag, pressing it to his forehead. 'It's not like I couldn't rebound with Princess Carolyn or find a lady somewhere, like at a bar. I'm a famous celebrity. Of course I can get some choice ass.'

He thought about how clever he was, and then immediately chided his vanity. But he didn't know why all of his thoughts would go toward reaching out to the young guy who used to live with him, for free, for no reason other than he had no other place to go. He could go to a club and find a hot girl with a cute ass.

"But you don't want just a piece of ass, do you?! And you don't want the most comforting person that can make you happy for one night like Princess Carolyn and then you feel empty again the next day. Someone talented and independent like Gina won't do! Or funny and sweet like Wanda! No, you had to fuck that up with her, too."

He started thinking of Wanda even deeper and how amazing it was to actually care about someone and it hurt him so much he grabbed some vodka from his kitchen and chugged more than a healthy dose. He seemed to be want to list off everything he did wrong and drink it away. Forget it forever.

"And Diane, she's too smart, too introspective, too nice! So no! You don't want anything good!" He hit his head in frustration.

"No. You need something else. Something like real... real lov—" He stopped his speech and went to the bathroom, vomiting up more of the Bloody Mary. It looked like his own blood.

He fell asleep, and had a dreamless night.

—

That next morning, he was extremely upset with himself. He fell off the wagon. After everything, all the work he put through with rehab he just had to binge drink yesterday. Still trying to figure out the next move in his career, his life, and in general, even being a professor was in question(as he had already said yes, too), and he felt like the weight of life was full force on him now.

He felt less stressed out even when he went to the Old Sugarman house, and living in squalor and depression, he felt lighter then. He felt like he was there, with a purpose, something meaningful that had to be done. But, it was still depressing as hell.

And all because, because of something in his brain that he couldn't shake, he felt that he had to take that drink.

He promised himself that he would never touch a drop of any alcohol again, no matter how confused, stressed, and alone he felt. He owed that much to Sarah Lynn. To himself.

But, by God, was he all of the above, and worse, he felt like shit.

He decided to take a shower, change into something halfway decent and get out, and do something, anything productive.

He thought he'd go to the Hardware store and find a project to do. Maybe find a new couch. Or just buy a new light bulb for the burnt out bedroom fan.

He decided to call Diane first after grabbing a large coffee and a danish. Okay. Maybe five danishes. 'Whose counting?' Bojack thought wryly as he ended up buying a sandwich as well, stuffing his face.

He dialed her number after walking around town, wasting time, thinking about everyone in his life that still talked to him after all the shit he pulled.

"Bojack! Hey! How're you?"

He grinned. "Good. I'm good. And you?"

"Fine. Guy and I are chilling out. Just had breakfast. You know, a granola bar and some morning sex."

"Woah, Diane! TMI! Who is that?" Guy shouted. Bojack heard the deep voice close by the line.

"It's Bojack. Didn't ya just hear me greet him?"

"Ah. Okay. I'm going to drink my coffee in the living room then. Bye Bojack!" Guy sang out.

Diane chuckled. "Sorry, I was a bit too blunt for Guy's taste."

"Never mind Guy. He sounds super chill and all, but I really, really don't want to hear about your morning routines." Bojack cleared his throat, drank a sip of his latte, and feeling the heat rise to his face, he decided to be blunt as well with her.

With another round of soft laughter, she made an agreeable sound and said more relaxed, "So what's up? I haven't spoken to you in awhile. I know there's been longer periods of us not speaking, yet, dude, this shorter period of time seems more like, forever. I miss you."

He cleared his throat again, just for his nerves to stop feeling so on edge. "Yeah, it has been a while. Sorry about that. I've just been thinking a lot." He paused.

What should he say first? His thoughts about her and everything between them? Sarah Lynn and how he still feels so sad and guilty about her death? Wanda and how he still misses her at times, and how that amazing, caring relationship ending made him feel even more hopeless? How he feels so closed in all the time and more alone than ever in his huge house? How he feels like there are ghosts everywhere and he's haunted by his past more and more? She knows some of these things already, but to have so many troubling thoughts encapsulating his mind, it killed him inside.

And the main point, to the present, the real question and driving force behind all of this bullshit: Todd. 'And just exactly what the fuck will I do about that?' Bojack wondered. He realized that he had been having very serene and almost affectionate dreams at night about Todd, and as much as he had tried to ignore them, they were slinking their way into his everyday thoughts.

"Yeah? What about?" Her carefree tone was starting to be frayed with a bit of worry. "Are you okay? You're very quiet. Not like you at all." His train of thought squashed, he realized he was still on the phone and she was waiting to hear him to talk.

"I know, I'm usually such an extroverted chatterbox." His sarcasm laid on thickly and he almost spat out, "I can't seem to understand how amazingly fun it is to be me since I'm such a brilliant conversationalist."

Diane groaned. "Okay. Spill it. I'm already so done with your bullshit."

"Okay. First, I know you missed me. That's great. I need to hear more stuff like that."

She scoffed. "You are an asshole. If you don't tell me what's really going on, I will hang up, and block your number." She made a clicking sound.

"Oh, okay, Thanks miss fancy writer lady. You were always clever and original with your insults and threats. I bend to your will."

"I'm not playing with you, I will cancel this call." Then she laughed with a puffy chortle. "You fucking jerk, just tell me!"

"Fuck it. Okay, Diane, listen. Remember how I told you that I felt like I was trapped in my life, like my house felt like it was closing in on me and I felt more lonely and afraid and everything? It's worse. I drank yesterday and the night before that. I drank hard. I couldn't fucking stop." He breathed in and waited for her to say something.

"Oh, Bojack. I'm sorry."

Her voice sounded small. He felt bad that he was dumping all of his problems on her, but he needed to unload and sort through the pain he was holding deep in his heart.

"Worst part of it all, I can't stop thinking about hi-" he stopped and mentally berated himself.

"Who?" She sounded like a owl, but with such a precise tone it made him cringe and he felt sick.

"I'm, uh, breaking up. Got to go!"

"Screw you! You better not hang up!"

Bojack almost flinched at her strict order, and he said almost timidly, "Todd. I can't stop thinking about him," he blurted it out and then promptly shut himself up with a slap of his hand. "Holy shit." He quietly whispered to himself, for his honesty and frankness was scaring him.

"Wait, what?! Did you say... Todd?" Her response was priceless. Bojack could've sworn he heard her coffee mug fall and break somewhere with eyes wide open and her mouth agape. He thought he heard a crash of some fine China somewhere in her vicinity.

"Yeah, I did. It's... shit. I don't know what it is. I miss having him at the house, and I miss him. I've been having these weird, sweetly touching dreams about him, too. I have really screwed up everything good in my life. Secretariat wasn't mine, I plowed that pretty much down to a non participant's fucking trophy. No one in my life stays for too long since I'm a needy and pathetic waste that doesn't matter and can't stop being an asshole toward their joyful kindness."

"And this is about Todd how? Isn't he gone? Like, he moved out a really long time ago. Also, we need to discuss that Secretariat business more in detail later." She sighed. "You keep screwing around, skirting around your true heartache, and I find it deeply disturbing that you cannot bring yourself to be honest with me, and especially, to yourself. I won't judge you. I'm here as your friend."

"That's exactly what's eating at me. I don't know what it is. I don't know what I'm feeling. I'm so confused. I just don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I want to be good. I want to be good for hi—for someone. I want someone to acknowledge my love and how I contribute goodness to their life."

"Okay," Her tone changed to a dramatic pause, like she had just cracked the code in Bojack's brain. "That's a very scary place to be at. You are on the verge of confronting your feelings for someone. It's terrifying. I know. It's even more scary to think they will reject you. I will be here; and if it doesn't come to anything you are hoping for, then, I will always be here for you. Either way." She sighed loudly. "Maybe, just maybe, you are feeling like, this person, the one you really ignored, could be something so much more important than you ever thought. You want to see if it's true."

To Bojack, this was a perfect response and he felt lighter. He didn't feel like he had to say anything else. She knew. He still didn't fucking know, but it felt better to know that she seemed to.

"Thanks, Diane, I think you're... on to something. And please, do not tell Guy. I don't want anyone to know. Not now. And I really don't know what any of this is anyway. I can't think straight."

She snorted. "That's for sure."

He grimaced but then slightly laughed. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm about to go to the store. Thanks for listening."

"Oh, and Bojack? Please, please, and I mean this as emphatically as possible: if you ever get the urge to drink again, or do anything stupid, call me first. If I don't answer, keep calling."

"Define something stupid."

"You." She growled playfully.

"I'll be sure call you just to hear your famous lines of abuse."

"You're sweet. You know I care."

"I do know that."

"Okay, but those two days of binge drinking you did out of stress was extremely serious. It's important you are aware of how far you've come, and how this slip—this mistake," She corrected, "will not make you feel like you have to go further down that dark abyss, and continue to hurt yourself. You don't need to punish yourself."

He shook his head. "See, that's where I disagree. I'm not punishing myself; I've done that before and this wasn't that. I think I did it, well, mainly because I wanted to forget about it all. My mom. Herb. Wanda. Gina. Sarah Lynn. It hurts too damn much. I feel like I'm losing it." He sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead. "I started going back to everyone I hurt. Intentionally or unintentionally. I just feel like I can never stop being a detriment in everyone's life."

"You cannot dictate your life on that, your failed relationships and your mistakes. However big or small they might be. You should definitely learn from it, and take that experience and knowledge to heart and really find a way to change. You need to stop going over every single person you think you hurt, you're literally going to go insane from stress and guilt. I know it's hard as hell to actually change how you let your brain function. If you can find closure and an understanding with that person, great. If not, you have to move forward."

"I fucking tried. You know, with Herb. Look how great that turned out. And—I mean. Fuck it. You're right. I need to stop letting all of this tie me down. I feel like a fucking boulder is on top of me all the time."

"I think you feel like since you made such a big step backwards that now you can keep living in that negative energy and just, you know, drown in it. It's doesn't have to, or need to, be that way. You have a choice."

"Shit. I think you're right."

"Now, be the man, uh, horse... you are meant to be. A good guy. A funny guy who has a bit of an ego. But who is... not so much an asshole anymore."

"I mean, I have come far. I have changed a little."

"Uh, yeah. I think everyone needs to work on themselves." She laughed suddenly and mumbled a, "Sorry," under her breath.

"Wait, what the hell. What's so funny?"

"Just... fucking Todd, man. What about him is so... never mind."

"What do you mean? Nothing. Nothing about him. I didn't call about Todd."

"I think you did. In fact, I'm pretty sure that he was what you really wanted to talk about."

He felt too hot in his face and he felt like he couldn't breath.

"Uh, anyway, thanks. I really have to go." He started to clumsily light a cigarette, almost dropping the lighter. "Seriously, though, don't tell anyone." He wasn't sure what he was even telling her not to do. He was just too damn stubborn to admit anything, and he knew it.

"I won't. Writer's honor."

He scoffed.

"Bullshit."