Disclaimer: I don't own this fabulous, wonderful show cause if I did, Weevil would be on a lot more. The chapter titles are from the song Hurt as sung by the irrepressible, amazing Johnny Cash, who I believe to have been one of the true remaining artists in the music industry, surpassing boundaries in music and life. I adore you, man in black.
Pairing/Character: Weevil, ensemble with some WeeVer (of course).
Rating: R/M for language, some sexual content, and racial slurs.
Summary: After all, what is he but the character he has played for eighteen years?
Spoilers: I wrote this chapter before Ain't No Magic Mountain, so it should take place a few days after the episode before that one.
Author's Note: Thanks to PMD, who is always giving me kind words of encouragement, and thanks to all the other people out there who enjoy my work. I aim to please and hopefully this newest work will please all of you.
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Chapter One: Hurt Myself Today
He cut his finger.
He stared at the blood welling up in the cut, watched in fascination as it dripped down the side of the skin, staining the cutting board beneath his hand. The potatoes he had been preparing for dinner were forgotten as he watched the cut bleed. He didn't remember that his grandmother was in the next room, didn't think to get his hand underneath the tap so he could clean it, disinfect it.
The cut told him he was still alive.
He wondered if anyone in the world would care anymore? His friends had abandoned him; in ways that were more painful than the beating he had been given. His alliance with Echolls was over, his silence at realizing who had killed his oldest friend angering the other boy to the point of threats.
"I'm not taking the fall for one of your boys, vato," Echolls had hissed at him angrily. "I don't care how much loyalty they've given you."
There he had stood, black and blue from the beating he had taken the night before. There he had stood, pain blossoming in his ribs as Echolls glared at him from across the bathroom, his face pulled back into a sneer. There he had stood, knowing that now his family was no longer protected from the likes of the Fitzpatricks. From Thumper and his desire to make it big.
"You're a fool," he had said to Echolls simply as the pain in his ribs became sharper. He must've rubbed the broken ends together that morning during PE."Bigger fool than I am."
And he had walked away, leaving Echolls speechless for once.
It wasn't that he didn't care if Echolls went to prison; he wasn't many things, Weevil knew, but at least he was honest where it counted. And that was hard to come by in a world like the one he lived in. Plus, he respected Echolls; living the shit he had to live with day after day took guts and balls. Weevil respected that much about Echolls at least.
He hadn't been able to forget what Thumper had said. Hadn't allowed himself too because he knew that if he even tried to tell anyone what had really happened...
He'd be the fall guy for whoever did kill Curly Moran. Wouldn't matter if he hadn't done it; a Mexican gang leader with a record would be just as good to pin the crime as anyone. Especially if that footage with him beating the crap out of Curly was aired; he'd be in prison so fast he wouldn't have a chance at even thinking of getting a lawyer.
So, yeah, Weevil figured he had his work cut out for him.
He blinked slowly as the sound of his grandmother on the phone slid through his consciousness. The pain in his finger made him grimace so he began the process of cleaning the cut up, as well as the potatoes. With a weary sigh, Weevil finished up the prepping for dinner and called to his grandmother that he was leaving for work.
A muffled reply was all he got in return and with a rueful smile, he swung out the door of the too-small apartment, grabbing his keys and coat. Shrugging into a jacket, he shifted his weight as he walked past the broken elevator and down the stairwell, squinting in irritation at the poorly lit passageway.
Leaving the apartment building, he shoved the door closed behind him and slid his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders up around his ears as he ambled down the sidewalk. The sound of a car backfiring, a radio blaring loudly down the way made him smile to himself as he crossed the street, intent on catching the bus. As he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, he let his gaze wander around the street.
A few days ago, he would have been on his bike, riding to work. A few days ago, he wouldn't have been standing at the bus stop, waiting for a ride to work. A few days ago, he had thought his world was secure.
Ignorance is bliss, he supposed. He'd been chosen by Gustavo to lead the PCH-ers after he graduated. None of them had thought he would vanish like he had. Weevil rubbed a hand across his eyes as he thought of Thumper's inability to comprehend the reality of what he was doing. He knew that soon the Fitzpatrick's wouldn't need any one of the PCH-ers pushing drugs and then, Thumper would understand...
They all would.
None of them would listen to him of course; the majority of the PCH members weren't all that bright, mostly around for muscle. Those who could think were the ones who called the shots and Weevil knew that Gustavo had chosen him for that reason.
"You got a good head on your shoulders, Eli," the older boy had informed him. "I respect that. It'll do the club good to have someone like you leading it."
So, he had been given the mantle when Gustavo vanished. Just like that, he was in charge and while overwhelming, he'd let the mantle of leader wash over him. Thumper wasn't smart; not in the ways that counted. He tended to act without thinking things through and Weevil just knew that the situation with the Fitzpatrick's would get ugly very fast.
He thought of Felix, thought of how he must have been appalled at the idea of dealing with the Fitzpatrick's. Gustavo had been Felix's hero, his idol, his only father figure. When he vanished, Felix had been a wreck for months on end and finally, after a while had stopped talking about his brother. And everyone knew that the youngest Toombs brother had hated the Fitzpatrick's with a vengeance.
Which, considering it looked like he had fallen in love with Molly, was ironic.
Weevil boarded the bus and sat down in the back, staring out the window. He had seen Molly twice since that first meeting at the school. She'd looked at him with an expression he couldn't decipher in her wide blue eyes and he'd regarded her curiously, unsure as to what Felix had seen in the girl.
He supposed Felix had just fallen in love for no reason; he couldn't criticize after all. He'd convinced himself he was in love with Lilly Kane and look what that had gotten him? Nothing but pain and heartache.
He blinked as he realized he had been staring rather intensely at an old woman. She was clutching her purse protectively to her chest and watching him warily. He smiled apologetically at her, rubbing his hands over his head, the stubble from the last few days feeling foreign beneath his fingers. The smile didn't alleviate the look the old woman was giving him and he sighed inwardly.
Change wasn't something the people of Neptune liked. He knew that even though he no longer had a bike or wore leather, people would still treat him like he was one of the gang. After all, what is he but the character he has played for eighteen years? Tough, nasty Weevil. Hard, icy Weevil. Weevil, who played bookie, ran a few illegitimate businesses. But the thing was now, he wasn't that Weevil anymore; stripped of his leadership, he was also stripped of that name.
He wondered who Eli was now and how he was supposed to figure that out. He wondered if he would ever be able to figure out what he was supposed to do now.
Next Chapter Two: My Empire of Dirt...