Rated M for sex, drugs and violence
Genre: Romance/Hurt & Comfort
Pairing: OC/OC (I know it says Johnny/OC but if you've read the first instllation of this series - which I highly recommend you do, you know despite the sucky structure and shit lol - you'll see that Johnny and his OC pair already had their happy ending and now it's time for the next generation)
Summary: Sequel to Faithful Faith. Jaline and the boys – the next generation of Greasers – have come up alright given the changes life put them through. But they're only fifteen and oh, so young yet. Watch them learn that with Time, things change and that includes even the most sacred: the idea that Mom and Dad can handle anything. Watch them band together to show how things get done in 1990s NYC.
A/N: OMG, if I can just take a moment to thank GreaseMonkey014 for reminding me that people still read my fanfiction and that I have had more than just a few people ask me for a sequel: THANK YOU! =) Seriously people like you, who've read the first fic and have remained faithful to it (no pun intended) and have asked for this...this goes for you guys. Without you, trust me, this wouldn't have even made it past the scrap paper stage it started as when I first started in HS. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I could never thank you guys enough for all that you've done for me by sticking by this long. I really never could. But hopefully, as you read this sequel, and see what I've done with these kids, hopefully you'll fall in love with them and follow them just as faithfully.
As for you new readers, well, I hope you enjoy this. Here's some information you guys might need (as well as those of you who read Faithful Faith a long time ago and forgot):
List of Gang's kids (born in 1975)
- Jason (Jay) – born of Two-Bit & Marcia Matthews
- Richard (Richie) – "" "" Soda & Diane Curtis
- Matthew (Matt) – "" "" Chris & Julia Shinning
- Brian (Bri) – "" "" Pony & Maryanne Curtis
- Jesse (Jess) – "" "" Steve & Natalie Randle
- James (Jamie) – "" "" Darry & Angel Curtis
- Daniel (Danny) – "" "" Dally & Cherry Winston
- Jaline & Riley (JJ & Ri) – "" "" Johnny & Faith Cade
And now, without further ado...ENJOY and you know what to do ;)
Juxtapositions: Just a Story
By: NY GE Pyromaniac
Chapter One: Never Gold to Begin With
Jaline Cade
"God dammit, Ri, move!"
"Jaline!"
"Here we go," I muttered under my breath as I turned to Dad, who stood at the mouth of the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Riley snickered exultantly as he finally moved the fuck out of the way at the kitchen doorway and scooted around me to watch with morbid interest as Dad laid into me. Rolling my eyes, I braced myself for the reprimand.
"You'd better watch that mouth, little lady," he warned, shrugging into his suit jacket and striding toward me. His shiny shoes, new, I suppose, squeaked slightly with each step he took across the fake wood-grain floor. I would have cracked on that too if I didn't know that I'd already crossed onto very thin ice with him last week after that shit with Shepard and his girl. Even cussing and trying to smack Riley just now had probably earned me a week's lockdown. "What have I said about cussing and fighting your brother?"
Well, he's said a shitload of things, but none that I could really turn to my advantage just then. So, I came up with the next best response to that: "But, Dad, he wouldn't move and I have practice at four –"
"– I don't care, JJ. You know better." He spared me a stern tilt of the head and fixed his tie before finishing, "One week."
"Son of a – look at him!" I shouted, pointing at Riley, who'd edged behind him to snigger silently yet very expressively.
"Two weeks and, if you want to make it three, keep going. Riley," he turned quickly, fluidly on the spot to face his son, "you can spend the next two weeks at your uncle Two-Bit's, cleaning his gutters, raking his leaves and making sure all the holes Potsi has dug up are filled back up before the frost. Oh and our gutters and leaves need to be taken care of too."
"Bahahaha!" My laughter burst from me, as I'd truly expected, but with much more gusto than I would recommend for the average punished-already-on-lockdown teen daughter, whose twin brother knows where she sleeps. But fuck me if I could stop laughing once I'd started and once I got a look at Riley's face in the space between Dad's right arm and the rest of him. He could've easily passed for a work of Edvard Munch's with that half-horrified, half-betrayed expression. And I probably looked like some kind of tomato for how red I knew my face had turned already. But let me tell you: totally worth that and the sidelong glare Dad gave me as he dealt with Ri's berating style of complaining.
By the time I got my hands on some food ("Food, JJ, not Pixie-Stix. I swear, you're Steve's daughter sometimes," Dad said as I scrounged around the kitchen for a few minutes and while Ri grumbled about unfair treatment and shit of the like), I already had to have had my ass in the backseat of Dad's Volkswagen for at least ten minutes if I wanted to make volleyball practice on time. "Dad, come on! You'd think you were in your eighties."
"You got one more time, JJ. Faithy! Let's go!" he called over his shoulder to Mom on his way down the driveway and around the car to the driver's side.
"Already there, Johnny, start the car," she called back, kissing Ri's cheek and giving him some last minute instructions on something that I couldn't hear or care less about.
Dad obeyed and I nibbled on my Hot Pocket in the backseat, watching the afternoon sun glide across the sky and tell me that four o'clock lay just a quarter hour away. "Think we'll have all greens?" I asked him as he reached over to unlock Mom's door.
"Jaline, seriously, not today."
"What?" I asked innocently, blowing on the culinary work of a volcano inside the semi-frozen crust. "I was just asking." He eyed me tiredly through the rearview mirror and I smirked. "You should be glad I'm still even able to joke around this way, Johnnycake, after that shit you and Minnie pulled."
"For the love of – JJ, please. Your mother is coming. Keep it PG, okay?"
I shrugged, the lame attempt at avoiding the conversation wearing down a bit more of what remained of my last nerve on the matter. The ride to school boded nothing more than financial terms and something about architectural projects in Tulsa running high on condemnations and running low on funds. I knew that, in those words, lay my newest chance at bringing up the move, but, after the shitty Hot Pocket that still sat heavily in my tummy, I didn't even want to bother anymore. I couldn't do anything about it, anyway, and well, to tell you the truth, I really didn't want to. I didn't feel all that betrayed and – how did Brian put it? Double-crossed?
Ugh. Brian. Look, don't get me wrong. I love the kid like Steve and I love Pixie-Stix (which, really, considering everything you know up until now…do you even need to ask?). But, my God. Double-crossed? Talk about melodramatic.
Still, I thought as Dad pulled up to the front of the school at a quarter past four – the same school he might have attended, Mom definitely would have and the others as well – and unlocked my door. It's a shitload to just turn your back on for a few dollars that we don't really need.
"Did you ask them?" Jason asked me later as we waited on the front steps of the school for the others to come out of the changing rooms and join us. Two-Bit would pick us up in a few minutes and from here we'd have to go shower, change and pretend like we give a flying rat's ass about the announcement Mom and Dad will make at dinner.
I sucked my teeth in response and he understood. No, I hadn't and no, I still don't see the problem that he and the others see. I mean, what the hell did they think airplanes came into existence for if not to make visiting people and places easier? Please, as if you don't know what this shit's about. A sidelong glance at him told me that, yeah, I did. "I'll miss you guys too, Jay. I just…" I sighed. "…damn, I just don't really know that I don't want to go." His glinted gaze met mine and, amid his softer features – so incredibly like his father's and a bit like my mother's, I could pick out individual flashes and splashes of pain and longing. "You know what I mean?" I asked him once I knew I could count on those individual flashes and splashes to signal his waning opposition.
The main front door creaked open rather noisily and out spilled the Curtis cousins, Brian taking the lead. "Hey, babycakes," he exhaled as he dropped onto the step next to me, planting a moist kiss on my cheek. He'd downed his usual water, then.
"Hey," I answered softly but didn't lean into him or even really acknowledge him further than that, still waiting for Jay to respond.
A slow but understanding nod later, his features split into a wide, sincere smile and he shouted to the falling night: "TIME TO PARTY!"
And just like that, he took away what little relief he'd given me with the nod, sending Brian into a stiffened frenzy of moodiness and kick starting both Jamie's and Richie's motors. Whooping and hollering into the sunset-smeared and half-twilit sky, those two, completely oblivious (whether by choice or out of instinct, I had no idea yet) to their proximity to two very uncomfortable people, rambled on and on about who had to get what for how many people so as to continue the party in the back of the house and for how long…. Really, I just tuned them out after a bit, now acknowledging Brian and wanting to smack Jason across his smirking face. The douche did this on purpose.
"Ready for the party?" I asked Brian tentatively as we piled our duffel bags into Two-Bit's trunk and as Jason, James and Richie fought over who'd get shotgun.
Shrugging, he pulled the hood of the trunk down and then sidestepped my attempt to block him. The shove-fight over shotgun ended quickly with his glare – Jason even shoved Richie out of the way so as to let Brian pass – and the rest of us squeezed into the back. The proximity of Jason to me in the car (from left to right we'd sat: James, Richie, Jason and me), had me chewing the inside of my cheek rather roughly to keep from calling him out on his douche-baggery among many other things.
"Faithy asked if you'd eaten," Two-Bit said to the silent carful of teens, eyeing each of us in turn warily.
"Not hungry." I shrugged as his eyes locked with mine in the rearview mirror.
"She didn't ask if you were hungry."
"You're seriously gonna act like I care?"
He sighed. "You'll love New York, JJ, I know it –"
"– I never said I wouldn't –"
"– you can drop me off here, Two-Bit, thanks. I need to, uh, do something before I…" Brian trailed off, already with his hand on the door handle and ready to yank it open. To tell you the truth, in my angry disorientation, I really had no idea where the fuck we'd stopped. I just know that we'd gotten nowhere near Brian's house or even Richie's or Jamie's or anyone's for that matter. What business did Brian have around here – by the Tasty Freeze? I have no idea. But he sure as hell didn't want to stay to share. Before any of us even really felt the tug of the stopping car, he'd opened the door and hopped out of the car, forgetting to close it again and forgetting his duffel bag.
"Have you even tried to act like you didn't want to go, Jaline?"
Ugh. Why? Just why? Two-Bit only ever uses my full name when I've done something highly fucked up and he…disapproves. But why this? Why now? Why with Jason eyeing me so triumphantly and why with Richie and Jamie coming off of their high, in light of their cousin's pain, and with them starting to realize: shit, she really is leaving?
"No one's ever even given me the chance," I snapped and shoved the trick door on his old Cadillac open so as to claim shotgun and spare him having to reach over and close the door himself. "I mean, you all know me so well…. Really," I turned in my seat, doing up my seatbelt with slightly shaky but not fumbling hands, "has anyone even ever expected less from me?"
He grimaced slightly, but took the car out of park and rolled back onto the main lane in something akin to a stony silence. After a few more streets, about five or six – maybe even seven – prostitutes climbing into their Johns' cars, and God knows how many closed shops, Two-Bit decided to speak again:
"You're mother, for Johnny, would have at least tried to act like she didn't want to go."
Well, fuck. Alright. If he wants it this way, then…. "My mother, Two-Bit – and you can keep your two bits about this – never had anyone trying to take her out of Tulsa and even if she did, she wouldn't have had to pretend she didn't want to go." We locked eyes again, at an angle this time, in the rearview mirror (and from my peripheral I could just make out Jamie's, Richie's and Jason's grimaces). "She had nothing else to look forward to." The crease that formed between his brows pulled at the corners of my mouth in a sadistic sort of way and I just let loose. "Why the fuck else would she and Dad even be thinking about leaving Tulsa for New York if she didn't already know she could take everything that matters with her?"
"So we don't matter?"
"I thought this was about Brian and I thought you were a big boy, Two-Bit."
He scoffed and reached a hand over to lightly knock my jaw. "You'd be surprised, JJ. Look, now's not the time to start up a fight. I love you and I'll miss you, you know that right?" I nodded and so did he: an affirmative of the confirmation. "I just think you need to make a bigger deal about this for Brian…." Glancing my way, he added: "He's hurting, Jaline."
I know. I want to say that I know and that I wish I could do something to fix that. But the fact remains: I know, but oh well. And again, don't get me wrong. I love Brian. I really do. And I can assure you that we have more than just a really good friendship between us. No, Danny and I, Richie and I, Jamie and I and Matt and Jesse and Riley and Jason – we have good friendships. But Brian and I…? I guess ever since we came into this world, we'd fallen onto this line, right? I mean, Mom, Dad, Pony…best friends. Me, Riley, Brian…all of us really, best friends, but more. Riley and Brian – practically brothers. Brian and I…always a little more.
Part of me wants to blame Pony. Another wants to blame Two-Bit and another Darry and Soda. A huge part wants Mom and Dad to claim this as their work, but I know. I know. Brian and I, as constantly opposed and yet united as we always ended up, well, what the hell other choice did we ever have in this – our relationship? We'd only ever existed as a leak in some gas line waiting for a good spark and that spark came that night at the Tasty Freeze with the cherry bombs…. Yes, Brian and I, we will always have this and I will always care for him. But he, like everyone else, knows me too well already. He knows that I, already in this situation – not by choice but because Mom and Dad made it so – would just try to make the best of it. And how could I not?
New York City. Dally had told us about it a few times and Danny had some stories too from their more recent visits to some friends Dally still has over there. But stories, as entertaining and as lively as Dally gets when he regales us with them, will always just remain stories. Just like Windrixville. Just like Bob Sheldon. Just like Mom and Dad at thirteen and sixteen. Just like I feel, sometimes, Brian and I exist as. A story.
Greasers from a small town tough the sixties out, find mates, have babies. The only girl in the original gang has the only baby girl in the next generation and the story continues, right? Johnny Cade and Faith Matthews. Jaline Cade and Brian Curtis. History just repeats itself….
And right there, right in that tiny aspect of this that really takes up my entire life if you think about it, lays the reason for the 'oh well'.
Once home, I showered, changed into a nice summery blouse and a pair of stonewash jeans, and slipped out the back door while Mom talked with Dally and Cherry in the kitchen. I found Brian seated right where I expected to find him, at the exposed roots of the last peach tree on the block in our backyard. "Still feelin' double-crossed?" I asked and dropped down beside him, wincing as a root dug into one of my cheeks.
He cocked a brow sardonically and then shook his head, smirking. He then reached over to pull me into his chest and held me there a bit before speaking, eyes up toward the somewhat starry night, "I think I double-crossed myself, to be honest."
"Picked up on that, have you?" I mumbled into the crook of his neck.
He scoffed a soft laugh and readjusted us so that I now sort of half-sat, half-lay between his legs and he lay his other arm protectively over my middle. Silence fell over us for a bit with us just looking either at the sky or across at the blackened horizon. It stretched and filled the gaps that we, for whomever's sake, needed to leave in this conversation and, for once, it didn't hurt. He didn't get up and leave like he tended to do when we'd get onto this topic and into these silences that meant something quite painful. I didn't suck my teeth or make faces or snide comments. We just sat there, holding each other, enjoying the last of it. I lied. It kind of hurt. But just in the way it had to – not in the way we'd made it hurt as of late with our tantrums.
"Maybe when I graduate I'll get into a college out there," he said softly and I felt his right arm – the one laid protectively over my middle – give a twitch.
"I'll have most likely met someone new by then. Not because I want to. Because I have to. Because you might not get into a college over there. Because even if you do, you might not even remember this moment – when you still want to hold on to this. Because if you don't remember this and I wait for you, what will that leave me when you find someone else? Because, in the end, life goes on, no matter whom it hurts."
I want to tell him this. I do. I want to cut it clean here and now and never have to do this again – not with him. I want this to end now and go from there to a better, healthier place. To the place with the good friendships like I have with the other guys. I want to just spare him the ache of realizing that humans are incredibly stupid – forgetful – and we will hurt each other if we keep trying to hold on like this. But, instead, I nod and say, "Maybe," because, in the end, Two-Bit, Dad, Jason, Riley, Mom – everyone had said it right: I love him and I don't want to leave just as much as I do. Because even though a huge city awaits, as well as new people and new experiences, I'll leave behind the old people and the old experiences in this small town where I grew into me. I'll leave a bit of me behind.
At some point that had blurred into this moment, right now, I'd torn my eyes from the blackened horizon and brought them to meet his somewhat greenish-blue ones and locked them there.
"Stay gold, JJ," he whispered into the centimeters of space left between our lips and leaned forward, trying to seal it.
With an instinctive sideways jerk of my head, a horrible lurch of the gut and a painful stab of regret – or perhaps of guilt, I don't know – at the pain flashing in his eyes before he peeled himself from me and bolted into the house, I realized that I couldn't. That I'd never even gotten there – to Gold.
I got to my feet, dusting the tiny bit of semi-frozen dirt off of my jeans and readjusting my blouse, and then turned to the house. On the back porch, a cigarette lit between his right forefinger and middle finger, stood Dally. For a moment, I expected him to scowl at me (the cigarette was not newly lit and I know he'd seen what had just happened) and I guess I would have taken it with every bit of calm that I could muster. But he didn't and calm totally eluded me. First one, then two and three, and then fourfivesixseveneightnineten…a lot of tears dripped from my eyes and down my chilled cheeks, falling silently to the earth beneath my feet, dying there just like a bit of me had a few moments before.
"He'll come running right back and lock you in his back shed if he sees this," commented Dally as he stepped from the porch, tossing his cig aside, and stopped before me. "Quiet, okay?" Hardly a foot from me, he reached up and wiped at my eyes with his slightly calloused thumbs, smearing the wetness away until none remained. I'd stopped crying and hadn't made a sound, but the shame lingered. "It's expected, you know? For the girl to cry," he added when I didn't speak.
I almost laughed. "I didn't know I would."
He shrugged. "Well, I never knew I'd even stick around long enough to see you born." His eyes glinted a bit and they looked somewhat scary in the dark night. "But sure as night and bright as day, here you are, JJ. And Danny too. And Riley, Jason, Richie…all of you guys. I've watched you all grow, baby," he said quietly to me, his hands still on my face, now cradling it as his glinted eyes passed over every contour almost rhythmically. Memorizing me. Remembering me. "I didn't know it would ever happen."
"That's different, though –"
"– it's not. This just scares you."
"…but I really wanna go, Dal."
He nodded and smiled knowingly. "I know. And I know why you tried so hard to keep him so far and why you pulled away just now…." He paused and, again, scanned my face. This time an eerily unsure look plastered his every sharp feature and filled in each of the deepening lines forming in his pale skin. "I know you love him, JJ, and I wouldn't be a friend of your Mom and Dad's or a friend of yours – or Brian's if I didn't tell you that you should try to fight for that…. But I'd be an even worse friend if I didn't take into consideration the things you already have, I guess."
I scrunched my forehead in thought and just stared at him. What did that mean?
"Your mother was thirteen when she fell in love with Johnny. She knew and no one could tell her different, that they were meant to be together. She was right…." I sighed. "No, I'm not gonna say it – don't worry. I know you already know. But just…just remember Time isn't a good guardian and distance won't help anything between you and Bri."
"I'm not the one you need to tell," I say somewhat more coldly than I'd meant to.
He shrugged, his eyes back to normal now. Maybe the angle he'd held his head at had affected that? "Maybe not. I just figure it's good to cover all the bases."
I scoffed and we went inside to listen to Mom and Dad's announcement.
"I guess you all pretty much know already thanks to our little ones," Mom said, eyeing Riley by the fridge and me behind Dally's chair, against the counter. Riley shrugged and I mirrored him, eliciting a soft rumbling of chuckles throughout the kitchen. The twin thing, I guess. Mom continued, "By this time on Tuesday night – in just two days – we'll be in our new house in Brooklyn." And I tuned the fuck out right there.
Let this shit begin, I thought, eying the crowd in my kitchen.
Darry and Angel both gripped one of Jamie's shoulders lightly while he pulled the left side of his mouth into a strained grimace. You know, the kind you make when you want to feign strength or indifference that doesn't exist in you. Jesse mimicked Steve's leaned position against the stove (one leg supporting their weight while the other's foot stayed firmly pressed against the glass-windowed door). Natalie struck the only difference in their poses as she'd fixed herself in the crook of Steve's left arm. Soda and Diane sat the table with Richie and Brian as well with Dally and Cherry. None of them touched their food anymore despite the nearly full plates. Jason and Matt stood next to Riley by the fridge, both somewhat sullen, but no worse than before. Danny, who I hadn't seen all day, stood next to me at the counter and let his elbow touch mine, a seemingly distant yet profound show of support on his part. Two-Bit, Marcia, Pony, Maryanne, Chris and Julia all stood in an odd looking row behind Mom and Dad and they all, every now and then, glanced between Ri and me.
The whole set up would have made me feel warm and safe – all of us gathered there together and supporting one another despite our individual sadness and slash or pain. It would have made me smile. Except that ain't what happened. Far from it. No, I stood, somewhat ashamed but not as much as I knew I should feel, next to Danny waiting for this to end so I could pack and maybe even talk to Danny about New York some before I had to go to sleep. Riley, who I actually think can't wait to see the new house, stood at the fridge probably with a hankering for some more of Mom's lasagna. Danny, who from the start wanted to come with us to New York as if on some adventure or something of the like, stood next to me completely and utterly nonchalant, relaxing me, balancing me. And all the rest of these people – my family and extended family…my family, who'd always – no matter what I'd said or done – protected me, supported me, defended me, understood me and stood by me, well, they ached. Real bad.
But still, at the end of the night when they all kissed me goodbye (no one really said anything to Brian as he walked right past me and out the front door without so much as a 'see ya' because they could pretty much guess how badly I'd hurt him), and when Danny called back over his shoulder "Call me the first time you get lost on the train!" and I laughed, I still held true and steadfast to my earlier 'oh well'. In fact, I may have even upgraded it to an 'oh fucking well' before the tears came as I packed. I definitely screamed "Fuck it! Just throw them out!" at Riley when he'd come to me with the drawer full of Valentine's Day cards, Christmas and Birthday cards, and regular old love letters and ribbons that had matched the theme of the gifts Brian had given me, asking what he should do with them. And even later that night, as I lay in bed, wondering how many more weeks I'd get of lockdown for cussing at Riley again, I hardened my resolve and promised to never even dream of Gold again.
Pssh. Gold. Like it ever existed past Mom and Dad.
