Golden Boy
Living in a glass house had its advantage and its disadvantages. It usually was the latter and Mike grimaced as the bright California sun shone through the floor to ceiling glass in the family room. He was on the couch, a light blanket draped over him, still in yesterday's clothes. Had it all been a dream? Had he really met with Bello and Eddie met his imminent demise? Mike tried to remember last night but all he remembered where strong arms hugging him and a gruff voice whispering in his ear, telling him to sleep.
The young agent thought it was all a dream until he saw flecks of what he assumed to be blood on his shirt. He frowned deeply at his collar, tugging it further away from him to inspect closer.
The sliding glass doors opened and closed with a thud and Johnny appeared clothed in board shorts. He stretched, grinning wide as he saw Mike, his pristine half-naked body on display showing off his real tattoos, the equal mark signs down his arms. Mike only heard vaguely when he was half-asleep the real details of what happened at the pot farm, Johnny's sleeping with Ashika, Jakes dismay at this before trying to rescue him with Paige, Paige being an all around badass and breaking through the barn with a truck and a handgun.
Mike reminded himself to congratulate her on her victory. He knew it was difficult to ask the other house mates for help, they were different departments after all, but everyone tried to rally together. Sometimes Paige reminded him of Briggs, tough, showy, with a little bit of quarterback syndrome as Charlie called it. He wondered if that was because she was a different department, maybe it was the fact that she was the only other girl besides Charlie and she was trying to transcend any gender stereotypes. She did have the quintessential California look and he wondered if Paige was always reduced to the pretty blond.
"Ay, Mikey, my man!" Johnny pressed a hand to Mike's shoulder and shook him, "Wake up dude, the waves are killer for once." He grinned and glanced out to the beach, "Even Jakes is out there!"
Johnny swiped his fingers at the flecks, removing them from his shirt and pressing his fingers to his lips, "Man, Charlie gave you some of her sauce?" He sighed and shook his head, "She wouldn't do that for me. What's a guy gotta do to get some extra red around here?" He chuckled, his smile and laughter disappearing as he saw Mike frowning at the spots on his shirt.
Mike's eyes widened as Johnny wiped the liquid from his collar and proceeded to lick off the red. He gave a sigh of relief as it was just sauce. Briggs words echoed in his mind.
"Mike, what did you think that was?" He looked at Mike with narrowed dark eyes.
They young agent swallowed thickly and shook his head, "N-nothing."
"Dude, you looked wacked out. What's up?" Johnny jumped the back of the couch and landed with a plush thud on the couch cushions.
"It was Eddie." Mike told him, ocean blue eyes glancing at Johnny next to him.
"Yeah..." Johnny drawled, waiting for Mike to continue.
"Eddie was Bello's second in command. He uh, after my first meeting with Bello, he accused us of dropping Bobby Moi on him because Eddie can't make a decent heat run to save his life." He paused and look up at the expectant Johnny, "So, he suspects us but Bello doesn't cause he likes Briggs and I showed him how to use those illegal bullets, so for some reason he trusts us. He burned out Eddie's eyeball...with lead." Mike swallowed thickly and Johnny's eyebrows rose, "Harsh man." The other FBI agent muttered.
"So, what happened with Eddie?"
"Briggs and I met with Bello and Eddie, 'cept Bello only wanted to meet with me..."
"Yeah, I heard about that." Johnny chuckled,
"You did?" Mike's blond eyebrows rose.
"Charlie told me Briggs had quarterback syndrome." Johnny paused, biting his lower lip, "Continue..."He waved his hand.
"Briggs left and then Bello started asking me to help him train his gang." He paused, "Except, I totally screwed up."
"You? Mr. Perfect?" Johnny snorted.
"Yeah, Mr. Perfect here doesn't know what a WQB is. It means Weapons qualification badge." He explained, "Bello, wanted me to get the gangs their own but I didn't know what that was, apparently it's the first thing EVERY Marine knows." He shook his head, disappointed with himself, "So, I bullshit. I say they'll get their pizza boxes soon, the nickname around boot camp for them, it's asinine but commonly used."
"Did he buy it?" Johnny asked, moving closer now, fully engrossed in Mike's story.
" Yeah, he did. But...Eddie was suspicious." Mike paused, "I still had to train the guys, though the bureau wanted me to pretend." He snorted with dry laughter, "Pretend to train thugs with powerful weapons." He shook his head.
"You didn't want to get your eyeball burnt out either." Johnny noted and Mike nodded.
'Right. So, I didn't want to train them, not really." Mike cleared his throat and continued, "I trained them how to disassemble and clean their guns, you know, if something backfires on you, there goes your hand."
Johnny nodded in agreement, "Clever."
"Bello trusted me after that, Eddie still didn't. He followed me back home and put the drop on me. He asked me who I really was but I didn't tell him anything. I finally got the advantage and put the drop on him."
Johnny clapped his hand on Mike's shoulder, "My man, Mikey. Going up against the Nigerians."
"The next day, Sauce Night as you know it..."
"Oh, how I love Sauce Night." Johnny sighed and his stomach rumbled.
"We, Briggs, Charlie and I brought Eddie in. Charlie interrogated him. Made it seem like he was lying, that Eddie really put the drop on Bobby and was playing Bello like a fool." He paused, "I...I didn't want to set him up. He already suffered enough." He pursed his lips and continued, "Bello wanted to meet with me. I went to him that night. Eddie tried to explain that I was a fed and that he didn't betray Bello. But, Bello already trusted me." His eyes grew watery at the memory, "Bello told Eddie there were was only one of two ways..." He looked away from Johnny at this moment and out towards the sea, "Eddie shot himself. He was about to shoot me and h-he changed his mind."
"Dude." Johnny said softly, his face one of worry and something else Mike Warren couldn't place.
Mike tried to change the subject, "I heard you slept with the hippie pot farmer, not one of your brighter moments."
"Hey man, I was just playing the part."
"Yeah?" Mike chuckled, "What part was that?"
"A Longo, man." Johnny clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and shook his head, "You really are an East Coast white boy. They don't have gangs by you?"
"Not gangs, more like mafias." Mike explained with a shrug. He paused, wondering if he could ask the question, "Do you, uh...do you..."
"Like playing the gangster?" Johnny raised his eyebrows and Mike nodded.
"Honestly, no." He paused, "I know I seem like I enjoy the tough banger image, you know, the money, the tattoos, the women, the recklessness." He continued, "But nothing like that happens without a price." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked intently at Mike, "Where I came from, the ghetto, and no I don't mean the Ghetto like you're imagining. It was the actual Ghetto. My family was poor. We didn't have heating or air-conditioning, school seemed pointless if only to get a hot meal out of it and some friends, but, those friends you made in school, by the time you were twelve the older kids would start recruiting." He paused "It was like the military recruiters. They didn't have brochures or shiny awards, instead they had tattoos to present to you, their new family names of East Side Longos or The Bloods or the Crips inked into their skin." He shook his head laughing, "They told you about a better life. About reaching your potential. Your potential for stealing, killing, lying, all for your new family's honor because most kids didn't have a stable family life, the teachers didn't understand them, their parents were in jail or dead, their brothers and sisters were getting bullied, the government wasn't helping. No one cared. But the longos, they cared. "
Mike was listening intently. He never really understood why someone would surround themselves with self-destructive friends. He had had friends, rich friends, who had divorced parents and smoke and drank to escape, but they never really did their self-destructive habits to try and rise above their life, to try and be better.
"They were just trying to be another family for kids without one." He muttered.
Johnny nodded, "That's why my brother Tony joined. For family, both the one I knew and the one he wanted to be a part of. He watched his best friend die at the hands of some Cambodians." He shook his head in disgust, "He wanted revenge. He joined. I...I haven't heard from him since."
"Do you talk to your parents though?" Mike's eyes widened.
"I try to, but you know, in our job we can't really tell the truth."
"Your lies are your life." Mike repeated.
"My brother, we're the same, whether I want to think that or not. He chose his version of family and I chose mine. Who's to say I didn't pick the wrong team as well?"
Mike shook his head, patting his friend's shoulder, "We're different." He tried to reassure himself that the government, the bureau, the dea, customs, were different from the gangs and drug lords they were fighting.
"You know, sometimes I think I joined the FBI to find my version of family, to find some stability and order in my life that was...justified." He paused, "I can play the gang-banger part, I can indulge in that lifestyle without suffering the consequences." He paused "The FBI, the government, they have their loyalty, their honor, their consequences. The Bureau never really trains you for the reality of what we do."
Mike nodded and sighed in agreement. "I'm sorry." He whispered.
"It's not your fault, Mike. I made my choice, so did you, we can make the best of it." Johnny reassured his friend with a grin.
After a moment of silence, Mike asked, "Have you told anyone else?"
"Mentioned it to Charlie. Had an argument with Jakes. Everyone seems to think I like playing this part." He paused, "I don't really like playing the part. I do it...because I think I'll be closer to Tony. To try and understand why he did what he did, to maybe one day bust him and his dumb ass friends. I...I want him to be proud of me."
"I'm sure he would be. You reached your potential." Mike reminded him with a smile.
"We should do something that's not so depressing, like catching those waves!" Johnny pointed to ocean and Mine nodded.
"Just let me get my shorts." Mike told him and Johnny shook his head, "Come on, Golden boy. Don't you know the fun of being in the sea with your clothes on?" He grinned and Mike knew that Tony would be proud of Johnny.
He was never sure that he'd understand the gang mentality, but he now understood Johnny, the pranks he pulled, the laughter he supplied, the reasons behind his choice in the FBI. Mike hoped they would continue to be friends and that the lies wouldn't tear them apart.
As they waded in the sea, the taste of saltwater on their lips, the sun against their faces, laughing as they escaped waves or let themselves succumb to the power, they knew they made the right decision.