Surprise! Pretty much bringing this back from the dead. I think a few of you know that I had this fic up and running a while back, but it sort of died in the water, so I'm revising it. One long step at a time.
Starting off on a cheery note, set during the bonus (!) mission during Sr2, Revelation.
(Also I know how short this is, bear with me.)
"Just like old times playa."
Rebecca didn't know why she pulled the trigger.
Correction: She did. She pulled the trigger for 5 years of her life gone, she pulled it for the demise of a father figure and a role model and the fact that he had single handedly warped her personality and attitudes into something she didn't really recognize anymore.
She expected the harsh gasp and the wet cough that followed it. What Julius said, not so much. "Jesus, I thought we were past this shit."
"I dunno what gave you that fuckin' idea."
Julius backed away, his elbows scraping against the gravel in his bid to get away from her. She caught her reflection in his pupils when she leant in close. That alone frightened her more than it should have. "Don't you get it?" Obviously not. "The saints didn't solve a godamn thing. Drugs were still being pushed, innocent people we're still getting killed. All we did was turn into vice kings that wore purple."
"What the fuck did you expect? You make a gang to solve issues with crime! I remember pushing drugs under your order." Rebecca jabbed her finger, close enough for him to flinch. "You're so godamn idealistic you thought that recruiting tonnes of guys under the idea of violence would end well."
"I remember you being just as idealistic back then. You wanted the best for Stilwater."
That stung. It did. She tried not to let him see the effect that had, but she knew the subtle drop of her gun to her side spoke volumes louder than any words could have.
"Maybe. A 5 year coma kinda sucks optimism out of ya." She clicked her tongue against her teeth. Acting completely nonchalant was a talent when she felt the opposite. "Then again, you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
Julius backed up until his back met a pillar. The hand on his chest already had blood welling in-between his fingers. "What happened to you?"
And again. This was a blast from the past that she didn't want—or need. All it did was pull attention to how much she had changed. She aimed the gun at his head. "…I woke up."
"I remember you walking into a room with the biggest damn smile any of us had ever seen. You used to get shit done and do it well. Sure as hell made me proud—"
"Shut up."
Her gun wavered.
"I remember thinking you were something special. Someone to watch out for. What happ—"
Silenced by a bullet. Her hand shook and she didn't try to hide it as she dropped into a crouch, level with eyes staring blankly at her.
"I told you to shut up." She told him, as if he would spring back to life and argue some more. "You never did listen."
She delivered a swift kick to his boot, before her fingers dipped into his pocket for cash, in one last act of defiance, one last confirmation that he was nothing anymore. Not worth the adulation and praise she threw upon him back at the church.
Dollar bills wrapped around her fingers, and she straightened. Scrunched them into her fist, turned, and walked away.
Done! Let me know what you think. I have a good feeling about this one.