Oh lord oh lord what have I done,
I've fallen in love with a man on the run.
Oh lord oh lord I'm begging you please,
Don't take that sinner from me,
Oh don't take that sinner from me.
When he'd told her about the heroin, she hadn't believed him. He'd done it in such a way that she thought he might have been kidding, given his dark sense of humor. They'd been naked, freshly exhausted from a romp in the sack, when he'd rolled on top of her and just blurted it out.
"I deal heroin."
Her laughter had died pretty quickly when he'd simply stared back at her, his brows lifted in the middle of his face like a puppy. His face had been a blank and exposed one. That's when their relationship had taken a turn. In that split second, she wasn't just screwing a hot bad boy from deep Southie. She was screwing a drug dealer.
For a second, she'd tried to escape from beneath him, squirming around to get some air. But he'd gently wrapped an arm around her ribs and held her close, murmuring through those soft lips of his for her to breathe. To calm down.
The tears had been next, which was something she wouldn't have expected. Not from her. She was pretty good at the casual screwing thing. After one too many boyfriends who'd left her feeling used and dejected, she just stuck to the basic biology of things. But you don't cry over a guy you're just fucking on the side. Those tears had been damning, and it had made everything different.
Two months of fucking had inadvertently turned into a relationship.
After a few hours of yelling, on both sides, they simply sat. He smoked, which she hated and loved. That had been part of his appeal, that faint scent of smoke. He smoked the same brand her father had, which made her feel at home around him. So she let him smoke in bed while she chewed her lip and buried a lot of questions.
Questions that she eventually asked. And he slowly answered. Then they had a few minutes of silence, followed by lots of strange eye contact. When he finally stood up to leave, she'd watched him dress without telling him to stay. He'd probably expected that to be the end. She was a data clerk for a lumberyard. He dealt thousands of dollars worth of heroin. She lived in a tiny apartment on the Westside. He had a three-bedroom house in his name, along with a two-bedroom apartment. She drove a beat up station wagon. He had a classic muscle car that melted the panties off men and women alike.
They should have ended that night. It would have made sense.
Instead, she'd run after him, catching him just inside the building. In her underwear and a t-shirt, she had leapt into his arms. The L word wasn't exchanged, nor was it for a few more months, but the feelings had been there that night. Otherwise, she wouldn't have gone after him like she did.
And he wouldn't have made love to her like he had.
Oh lord oh lord what do I do,
I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you.
He was raised on the edge of the Devil's Backbone,
Oh I just want to take him home,
Oh I just want to take him home.
There wasn't an even a ceremony when they were married. And that was better in her opinion. Her parents wouldn't have shown up if they'd invited them, and she had no other family to speak of. Even if she'd booked a church, all of the pews would have been empty, on both sides.
Honestly, he hadn't wanted a marriage from day one. He'd bitched and pouted when she'd given him an ultimatum. Wedding or she walked. And she'd nearly made it to the door before he'd thrown a toaster through a window and plucked her clean off the floor, telling her he'd rather eat the broken window glass than have her leave. He'd been mad, and he'd hated that she'd won the battle, but the glee on her face had made the evening end on a happier note. And she had made it up to him by not having a ceremony.
Just a couple of signatures, a quick kiss in front of a judge, and they were married. Husband and wife. She had been blissed out the rest of the week. And he took advantage of the marriage bed. All in all, their marriage had started out beautifully.
Oh lord oh lord he's somewhere between
A hangman's knot and three mouths to feed
There wasn't a wrong or a right he could choose
He did what he had to do
Oh he did what he had to do
The first baby had been a surprise, yet it had been a blessing from the start. She'd screamed when the test came back positive. He'd been silently amazed for a solid hour. Fear had been a big part of that nine-month pregnancy. They'd fought a few times, afraid of repeating the mistakes of their parents. She was determined to be every bit the loving mother that she'd never had. And he was terrified of falling short of the father he'd always wished for. Together, they nervously greeted a boy.
They lost the second baby. That had been rough on them both. She'd cried for days, hiding in their bedroom while a toddler sat alone in a playpen. He'd hidden at the bar, drowning the pain with numbness.
When she healed, she wouldn't let him touch her. And their marriage became quiet and angry. He worked until he dropped, dodging arrest and bullets as power started shifting on the streets. Money became scarce and tempers grew hotter. One night, she told him to do whatever it took.
Whatever it took.
He went out and killed three people the next day, shooting them in their beds. One, a drug kingpin. The other two, brothers. Blood on his hands, he secured a hold on the streets. His name rose to infamy. His crimes filled papers. She ignored it all. She turned a blind eye.
So when the third baby came, their second son, things where starting to look up. They were surviving. She just didn't see the changes. She didn't see the armor.
Give me the burden give me the blame,
I'll shoulder the load and I'll swallow the shame.
Give me the burden, give me the blame,
How many, how many Hail Marys is it gonna take?
When he was arrested, she'd fallen apart. Granted, the lawyer they'd called had all but promised her that he'd be released, but she still felt guilty. There were names in the paper, obituaries. There were stories she couldn't read and accusations she wouldn't accept.
Her sons had looked to her for answers and all she had was worried looks and vague explanations. He didn't let her bring them to see him in jail, and he'd barely said a word when she'd made the trip. He became a stranger in a matter of weeks, and when the months ticked by she turned to smoking. The very thing she promised herself she'd never do.
Everything had weighed on her. The eyes were on her everywhere she went, and the rumors were every bit as bad. Her kids couldn't go to school without hearing about the gossip. The ugly truth. She kept a brave face, but she slowly crumbled. She smoked a pack a day until his trial, and put away a bottle of jack after the first day at court. It hadn't occurred to her that her boys had gone to bed hungry that night. She hadn't realized that her eldest son had been the one to tuck her in.
Don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not
He's good and he's bad and he's all that I've got
Oh lord oh lord I'm begging you please
Don't take that sinner from me
Acquittal had been a relief. After a month-long trial, and a near conviction, he'd come home like a hero in a parade. Everyone lined up to kiss his ass. All of the men came out and shook his hand; the bars gave him free drinks until he couldn't stand. It had been a day of celebration.
Until he got home.
In their marriage bed, the one that had seen all their secrets and joy, he found her. He'd been stunned at first, staring without a word. He saw the tears, just like the one's he'd kissed from her face so many times. He saw the filled ashtray and dark circles under her eyes. The woman he'd married was still and cold.
And at her side, Bones fell to his knees.
Oh don't take that sinner from me.
A/N: Quick write inspired by the song "Devil's Backbone" by the Civil Wars. This song just screamed DS to me. It could have been used for so many different characters, but I'm a sucker for Bones. Hope you like it, and CHECK OUT THE SONG. Actually, the whole album. Both are fantastic. Love to you all.