Disclaimer: Not mine, but sometimes you gotta take a little joy ride.

A/N: I'm just getting my feet wet with the characters and the fandom so if anything is out of character or out of place, I'd love it if you'd let me know.

Happy reading!

Lucky Shot

"This is the last time he makes a fool out of me! You know, I'm not a violent man. I try not to be, but what do I get? What thanks do I get?"

Donavan Pierce watched his oldest brother pace around the room. He sat on the couch, his watery green eyes darting from left to right, never leaving Desmond. His mother warned him about mixing in with his brothers, Desi in particular. He had a sharp tongue and an even sharper temper. Everyone knew that the slightest disruption would snap his short wire. Desi was always mean. He was never calm enough to listen and the only time he kept a cool head was when they did business. Nobody messed with Desi's money. Right now, Desi was clapping his hands and swaying back and forth, sucking in angry gulps of hot air. Donnie pitied the poor sap that had double crossed his brothers.

"Don't even worry about it," Danton, the middle brother, leaned against Desi's desk. He smiled a dimpled smile and patted Desi's back. "We'll take care of him."

"You're god damn right we're taking care of it and we're doing it right now! I don't play this, man, and he knew that! I told him on numerous occasions that my money and business were not to be played with. This man thinks I'm a fool. No, correction, he thinks I'm a new kind of fool. You know, a new breed of idiot engineered in a damn lab somewhere! Well he's in for a rude awakening!"

"What are you planning?"

"We're taking our happy asses over to his apartment, that's what I'm planning!"

"Wait, in broad daylight?" Donnie asked. His brothers turned to watch him, their big green eyes burning holes through his t-shirt. "Ww...what?"

"Well, genius, what do you suppose we do?" Danny snapped.

"I, uh, well---what if somebody sees us?"

"He'll skip out if we don't go soon," Danny walked over to the couch and smacked his kid brother upside the head. "For somebody that hasn't been in this business for a long time, you sure do have a lot to say. Now, he's stupid but he's not that stupid. He knows we're looking around for him and he'll probably skedaddle after he drops his little brat off at school. Now, if we meet him before he takes the kid…"

"What about the little boy?" Donnie asked quietly. "What are we gonna do with him?"

"What the hell do you think?" Desi yelled. He was now leaning on his desk, glaring at Donnie and Danny.

"Look, Desi, I ain't killing no kids!"

The room's temperature made a sharp drop. Donnie could feel his stomach creeping towards his throat. His hands began to shiver and the goose bumps shoved their way up his arms. He searched Danny's face for reassurance, but his only response was to pull himself up from the couch and walk over to the window. Donnie's chest rose as he gulped, but before it crashed down his cheek was burning. He hadn't even seen Desi's hand move.

"You're new and you're young Donnie so I'm going to let you get away with talking to me like that just this once," Desi joined his brother on the couch and took his trembling hand into his own. He began to speak softly and carefully. "You've got a soft heart Donnie. Everybody sees you as the bleeding heart of the Pierce brothers, the little baby faced kid that'll give 'em a break. It was cute when you were little. You know, hmm, brining in sick cats and shaking my pants pockets to stop me from pounding on some old fool. My sweet little brother, always willing to lend a hand. You remember that?"

Donnie nodded.

"You answer me when I speak to you!"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well that's a weakness! It's a sick weakness that I won't let fester until it infects the rest of us. In this business you can't save everybody Donnie. That man knew what would happen if he dicked us around. He knew. It is his responsibility to look out for his little boy, not yours. Your job is to look out for your brothers and for our business. Despite that bleeding heart of yours, I know you have a little of what Danny and I have. I know you still have a little bit of Dad in you," he laughed softly and shook his brother's shoulders. "Your Mom knows it too and that's why she didn't want you around Danny and me. She don't want any one of Dad's ghost to come back and haunt you. A man can't stay pure for the rest of his life Donnie, especially in this line of work. I know it's going to be hard, believe me I do, but you just can't save everybody. You get me? You cannot save everybody."

Desmond Pierce swiped away Donavon's tears and pulled him up from the couch, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

"That's my boy. Danny, get what we need!

Danton nodded and opened the rusty old locker in the corner of the dimly lit basement. He handed his brothers silenced eight millimeters before helping himself to one. He watched them tuck the guns into the waists before grinning and slamming the locker. The Pierce brothers made their way up the old wooden stairs that lead to the garage. As soon as he sat down in the passengers seat, little Donnie Pierce knew he would never be the same.

"Quick Lucky hide!"

Five-year-old Lucky's head shot up at the sound of his bedroom door slamming. Before he could question the urgency in his father's voice, he was snatched from his bed and tossed like a dirty t-shirt into his closet. He wanted to gasp for breath, but something told him to hold it. He buried himself under a pile of his dirty clothes and waited for whatever was happening to end.

The sound of his door crashing onto the hardwood floor forced a soft gasp from his thin lips. He swallowed as he heard loud footsteps pitter-patter around the room. They were slow, calm footsteps. He imagined graceful tigers gallivanting about the room, searching high and low for their timid prey. He sank further into his cotton and polyester fort when he heard a loud crack bounce around the room.

On the other side of the door, his father rubbed his throbbing jaw. He stared at the three Pierce brothers with pleading brown eyes, begging them to stall him out. He looked past Desmond and Danton, the two rapid savages, and searched for the angelic eyes of the little one. He knew Donavan would save him. He knew the baby Pierce boy hadn't detached himself from his conscience. His big hildlike eyes still had warmth in them. The corners of his mouth had thin lines--permanent memories of a big smile. He knew Donavan Pierce would spare him like he had countless times before.

"Please…"

"You racked up quite a debt," Danton circled his prey, taking great joy out of watching the bleeding man shiver. "We have given you plenty of chances, you know that right? We tried to understand your situations, your habits, and your issues. Men sometimes lose their footing, no harm in that. What's a free country without helping hands? Then again, what's a country without free loaders?"

"You had ample opportunity to pay us back," Desmond picked up where is brother left off. For good measure, he dealt the man's bleeding jaw a swift right hook. He scoffed at the man's screams. "Scream all you want to, nobody'll care. Everybody around here minds their own business. You should've used the money you stole from us to move into a compassionate neighborhood. Now, as I was saying, you went out of our way to make it possible for you to make good on your word. What did you do, huh? What did you do?

The man continued to shake. He closed his lips tightly and closed his eyes. He was willing himself not to cry. He jerked forward as the butt of Desmond's pistol connected with the side of his face.

"YOU ANSWER ME WHEN I SPEAK TO YOU! WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?"

"Reporting live, New York One," Danny laughed, placing his gun to man's lips as though it were a microphone. "Reporting live!"

"LET'S HERE IT BITCH!"

"I…please…my son…"

"Where is that little brat anyway?" Danny jerked his weapon away and stood at his full height.

"At…at…school. I took him to school!"

"You're a god damn lie! My mother used to say: if you'll lie, you'll steal. If you'll steal, you'll kill. Now, you do like to steal and you just proved that you like lying. I know I like killing. So, my man, where does that leave you?" Desmond tapped the cool, chrome, metal against the man's head. Left to right, right to left, like a pendulum. "Donny, find the kid."

"He ain't here!"

"Oh, please do us all a favor and shut up," Desi shook his head. "Donny, find that brat so we can move this damn thing along please."

"Donavan…please…he's just a baby…"

Donavan swallowed and looked down at his shoes. "I can't help you."

The man burst into tears. If Donavan was gone then so was Lucky.

"Not the first time I've seen a grown man cry," Danny laughed. "Gonna piss on yourself too?"

By then Lucky was crying silently. He couldn't understand what was happening or why those mean men would do what they were doing. Hadn't they been little boys too? He wondered how boys grew up to be mean men that killed people's fathers with their little boys hiding in stinky clothes. He wanted to scream really loud when he realized he was never going to be a man.

"Got him," Donavan snatched the little boy out from under the pile of clothes. He gazed into his terrified dark-blue eyes before throwing him onto the floor. He looked down at the sobbing child sadly, wishing he could die with him. He ducked his head. "He was in the closet. The kid heard the whole thing."

Danny shook his head, "Still a pussy."

"Shut up," Desi glared at the middle brother. He cast his cold eyes on the little boy. "What's your name?"

"Wucky."

"What the hell kind of name is that?"

"I think he said Lucky," Donavan piped.

"Well, I guess he isn't so Lucky," Desi laughed at his own joke and gave the little boy a shove. "Whelp, unfortunately for you kid your old man's demons are about to haunt you. My mother always told me to be careful what you wish for. Your mother ever say that to you Lucky?"

The boy shook his head. "I don't have a mother."

"Well when they're not nagging and crying about everything, they actually come in handy. Now, your Daddy here is quite the social butterfly. He's never short on a smile or a joke, but he sure has a way of running out of my god damn money. Now, your father being the drunk that he is, he's a little mouthy sometimes. He ever talk too much when he's drunk around you?"

Lucky looked at his father before answering and only when he nodded did the child say, "No...no..."

"You don't have to lie to me," Desi shrugged. He'd been circling Lucky the whole time he'd been talking to him, but he stopped in front of the father. He sighed knowingly at the kid and pressed his gun against the father's temple. "He beats on you, doesn't he?"

"No," the child said quickly.

"You beat on him don't you?"

The father remained silent.

"You can't pay your debts so you come home and lay into your son, huh?" Desi laughed. He made a show of hawking up some spit and spat in the father's face. The little boy jumped. "Coward. Now, your father said that he'd love to be rid of his responsibilities. He was so, so, tired of dragging his little bastard around. He'd turn around and there you'd be, like a god damn shadow. Well guess what Lucky, you ain't gon be nobody's shadow no more. You know why?"

"Oh god," the father whimpered. "Oh god no."

"I think your Daddy knows."

"Not my little boy! Look, come on now, can't we talk about this?"

"You did talk! Weren't you the one that said you wanted him gone?"

"I was drunk..."

"Words have power, something Mama also told me. Now, there's nothing like making those that have wronged you suffer. So, we're going to leave you alone, not going to harm anymore hairs on that receding hairline."

"We're not?" Danny asked.

"Nope," Desi patted the crying man's shoulder casually. "Sometimes, you can beat a man too much. Mama never said that, but I kinda like the sound of it. So, you'll be leaving out of here in just a second."

Lucky breathed a sigh off relief.

"Don't you get your hopes up little man. Nothing makes a man suffer like knowing he killed his own son."

"WHAT? WHAT A MINUTE! MY BOY..."

"...is about to die. I'm going to take great pleasure in knowing that every time you think some playing with somebody's money you'll think about your baby boy bleeding out in this room. Man like you doesn't deserve children! You beat on him, you don't have enough pride in yourself to keep him in a decent neighborhood, you leave him home alone--you should've been sterilized."

"Please...not Lucky..."

"Donnie, come on over here boy."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Kill him."

"Right now?"

"No, later. Kill him!"

"He's a baby Desi! Please, I can't live with that! I..."

"Remember what I told you! Your job is to worry about us, not some low life and his unlucky son! Kill. The. Boy."

"Donavan please," the father cried. "You're not like them! Please! Come on god damn it!"

Donavan looked from the father, to the sobbing boy, and to his cold eyed brothers. He swallowed hard and lifted his weapon. He nodded quickly and carefully. He faced his new life, he was calm and still. A wet spot decorated the little boy's jeans and Donavan didn't care. He could feel the compassion seep from his skin and clump at his feet. His hand was still shivering as he aimed the gun.

"Shoot him god damn it," Danny yelled. "Shoot him!"

"DADDY," the child finally screamed. "DADDY HELP ME!"

Lucky made eye contact with Donavan before dropping to the cold, bloodstained, floor. He stumbled a bit, his eyes growing unfocused, before his left cheek smacked against the hard wood. Donovan didn't look away in time to miss the blood pooling around the child's head.

"You're debt is squared," Danny looked down at the boy. "Try not to get into anymore trouble, you hear?"

Donavan couldn't look at his handy work, but he held the gaze of the father. "I can't save everybody."

With that, the Pierce brothers were gone.

The father picked up his son and held onto him for dear life. He rocked the boy back and forth, like a colicky baby, whispering kind words into his ears. He flicked a stray coal black curl away from his closed eyes and kissed his baby soft skin. He'd done the child wrong is entire. He didn't know how to be his father, he told his mother that when she angrily announced that she was pregnant with their demon spawn, but he tried. He failed, but he tried. He just couldn't stop hitting him. He wished he knew how to show the sweet little boy affection, but he just couldn't. The only attention he could give was negative and look what that got him.

He didn't expect the boy to moan.

"Lucky?"

Another breathless moan escaped the child's lips.

"Lucky? Oh my god, Lucky! Okay, okay, you're going to be all right. I'm here, okay? I'm right here. I'm going to get you to the hospital okay, hold on!"


"Girl, now you know I don't play that! Talkin' about 'you don't know me like that' and how they call him Chico. Well Chico better go find Debarge and leave me the hell alone," Jodie Harrison laughed into her cell phone and took another drag of her cigarette. "See, that's the thing about these men today. They have no respect, no drive. It's a damn shame."

Jodie had been working at Bellevue for three years and she still wasn't happy. She hated working at the front desk in the ER. For nine hours she turned men, woman, and children away because they had no insurance. She watched with cold, distant eyes as mothers screamed and cried because the doctors weren't moving fast enough. When she first started, she saw their humanity. She could taste their fears and her body rattled with their pleas and sobs. Now she saw faceless meshes and heard slurred voices. Her body would jolt back on at certain words, but most of the time she watched these little dots float outside the glass window. She'd rather complain about her trifling boyfriends than look into the eyes of the poor, scared, people.

"Please," she scoffed into the phone. "There's nothing he can do me for me that I can't do for myself."

Jodie took another puff and plopped down on a wooden bench in front of the entrance. It was hot as the dickens and her Pooh Bear scrubs weren't helping. It was nine a clock in the morning, why the hell was it so hot? She was sweating out her hair style, her gum was losing flavor and so was her boyfriend, her bra was too tight, and her best-friend couldn't hold a conversation even if it weighed three ounces. She needed to go to Jamaica, meet a young man, and take him back to the W and pull a Stella to get her groove back.

"Yeah, girl, I'm listening," she mumbled. She took yet another puff. "I said I was...what the hell?"

Her back straightened as she spotted a green Jetta speed down the road and jerk to a violent stop a few feet from her. She stood up to call out toa few nurses, but before she could raise a leg a man jumped from the car and pulled out a limp boy.

"Help me! Please! Somebody help me!"

"I need some help out here! Hey!" She threw her phone into her pocket and rushed towards the man and the boy. "HELP!"

"Please! Please ma'am you have to help him."

"Okay, okay what happened?" she asked as she was joined by three another nurses to help the bleeding child onto a stretcher. "What happened?"

"I...I..."

"Okay, okay," Jodie nodded and helped the wheel the boy inside. She flagged down a young blonde doctor. "Dr. Masse! Dr. Masse! We've got a gunshot wound to the head."

"How long has he been out?" the blonde woman looked up at the boy's father.

"Uh, he's been going in and out for the last twenty minutes..."

"What's his name?"

"Lucky, his name is Lucky,"

"Hi Lucky, my name is Dr. Masse can you hear me?" she nodded when he gave no response. She took a look at his wound and felt his head. "Looks like a flesh wound. Did you apply pressure to stop the bleeding?."

"Uh, I didn't know..."

"He's in shock. Let's move people."

"I didn't know! Is he going to be okay!"

"We can't take him care of him if you're by his side," the doctor said quickly. "I promise we'll take care of him. Jodie, get this man some coffee."

The father watched his son recede into the past. He brought his hands down to his sides and turned away before he could stop himself. He could feel the man he was becoming. He saw bold flashes of the man that taught him everything he knew, the man that failed him the way he'd failed his own son. If there was anyway to right this wrong, he knew this was it.

"I'll get started on that coffee," Jodie mustered up a smile. "Do you take cream and sugar?"

"No, uh, black will do."

"She's a great doctor, you know? You boy's obviously lived up to his name, he's gotten lucky all night."

"Hmm," he nodded. "Where's your restroom?"

"Down that hall and straight down the left, you can't miss it."

As soon as she turned her back, he snatched the nearest piece of paper and scribbled a name as quickly as he could. He took a deep breath and walked out as quickly as he'd come.

"Sir, sorry I'm late with you're," Jodie rolled her eyes and sat the hot cup on the counter. "Bertie! Bertie!"

"What are you going on about?" the middle aged rent-a-cop asked from his post.

"Did you see that guy..."

"Real descriptive."

"Oh go straight to hell! Did you see the man that came in here with the little boy?"

"Tall, with the Jets cap on?"

"Him."

"He just left, he said he needed to get a few things out of his car. He left you a note on the counter."

"As if I needed anymore drama," she slapped the counter and snatched up the thin napkin. "Well things just got interesting."

Call my brother Detective Robert Goren. He'll know what to do.

Next time: Bobby finds out about his nephew.