Larry, formerly known as Mr. White, had been betrayed. Betrayed by the very man in which he defended to the very end — one he had shared such a connection with that he was all too convinced he could do no wrong. He had been sorely mistaken and now he was dealing with the consequences for so stupidly wearing his heart on his sleeve.
Lawrence Dimmick now sat in prison, recounting the events that took place on that day nearly three months ago for the umpteenth time in his head. What the plan was, the moments leading up to that disaster, and the events that soon followed. The more he thought about it, the more it should have been obvious to all of them but there was nothing he could do about it now. He'd do his time and then move on with his life. What else could he do?
He perused through a book as these thoughts plagued his mind, unable to concentrate on its contents. The thoughts were almost as painful as the incident itself, all that initial shock rushing back to him again, making him feel even stupider than the last time he thought about it due to hindsight.
He had killed two long time friends of his all for some guy he'd only known for a few weeks. To protect him only to be betrayed. He was so convinced that they were wrong. That there was no way Freddy could be the cop. He insisted that he knew him better than that. That Freddy wouldn't lie to him, he was sure of it. They had been nothing but honest and open with eachother and that's a big part of the reason he felt such a strong connection to the other man. Clearly, he just had a bad judge of character. Freddy was nothing but a rat and he always had been. He had manipulated him, molding himself into the form of something he knew Larry would like so as to squeeze information out of him without Larry even being aware of the fact that he was sharing it.
He was such an idiot for falling for something so obvious.
Larry was sure the cop was proud of himself. Proud for catching some long time criminals and exposing them. Proud for making Larry turn against his own friends at a last ditch effort to protect himself before the police arrived. What a lousy little prick.
Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a voice. The voice of the prison guard in his sector.
"Dimmick, an officer wants to have a word with you."
Larry looks up from the book, quirking a brow. "A word for me? They ain't gettin' anything more than what they already know. I ain't a rat." He states.
"Calm down, Alfonzo. I'm just the messenger. You tell him that, not me." The guard retorts with a little attitude.
A little clink can be heard as the door of his cell is unlocked and as the doors open, a familiar face is revealed.
Larry is immediately scowling, determined not to say so much as a word to the other man. It's Freddy Newandyke, otherwise known as the little bitch that betrayed him or Mr. Orange if you want to get technical.
Freddy appears nervous though Larry can tell he's trying to put on an intimidating front. It must have been pretty awkward for him to face the very man of whom he had felt so fondly for not even that long ago only to betray him in a matter of days. Good. This asshole deserved all the discomfort he got.
"Larry—"
"Lawrence." Larry corrects sternly, eyes locked on the other. He's holding an intense stare on the younger male and it's serving to make him shrink down from his officer status in his presence.
"Lawrence." Freddy starts again, grimacing. "I need to talk to you."
"Well I sure as hell don't gotta talk to you. In fact, I ain't got nothin' to say to you unless you're willin' to handle a fair number've insults. An' for YOU, 'fair' may be too much." He shoots back venomously, eyes narrowing slightly. He means it too. He wants nothing to do with this backstabbing jerk after what he put him through.
A moment of silence fills the room and Freddy's eyes dart off to the side as he adjusts his stance, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"I..." he begins but pauses after only a second so he can choose his words carefully. He could tell Larry was still cautious around him and for good reason. It made his heart sink to know he'd never gain back that trust but... it wouldn't hurt to try. Right...?
"I know you hate me, but—"
"Hate you?" Larry interrupts with a scoff. "I don't hate you. I hate what ya did."
The officers shoulders tense slightly as he's interrupted by Larry's matter-of-fact tone. He's quiet again for another moment. In his mind, he can't help but consider this as progress In some sense. Atleast he didn't hate him.
"Okay, well... if you don't mind, I'd like to talk it over with you. Just to clear the air a bit." He proposes, giving a slight apologetic smile but the gesture is far from returned.
Larry holds up a hand and shakes his head, maintaining that cold stare.
"I ain't talkin' nothin' over with you. If you wanna talk so bad, get another officer to talk to me for you. How am I s'posed to know you're not tryna get more information outta me, huh?" He asks. Freddy doesn't respond. "That's what I thought."
"It's not about information, though, Larry—"
"Lawrence."
"Lawrence." Freddy quickly corrects himself after a second of cringing at his own mistake. It was clear to him that Larry didn't want him using any sort of personal alias or anything of that nature when addressing him. It was such a shift from what he was used to only a short while back. He felt a familiar pang of guilt in his chest after hearing Larry so adamant on being referred to formerly by him of all people.
"I just want a chance to explain myself... I-it won't take long. Honest. I just want you to know—"
Again, Larry waves a hand as if to signal for the officer to stop speaking and he does so curtly.
"You don't deserve a chance to explain yourself." The older man says gruffly, fighting back the emotion in his voice. "Whatever you got to say, I can live without hearin. Ya know why?"
Freddy stares, not daring to say a word as he waits for Larry to continue.
"Ya fed me nothin' but lies, kid. How am I s'posed to know you ain't gonna lie again just to make yourself feel better about what ya did to me, huh?" He questions, pausing for a moment as if waiting for a response. When he gets none, he continues speaking. "You didn't just hurt me, Freddy. Ya crushed me — along with people who were near n' dear to me. I trusted you over them and look where that got me. I can't trust a word that comes outta that dirty damn rat mouth'a yours so I don't wanna hear it."
Larry then turns away from the other man, looking back down at the book he still held open. He mumbles something that sounds like "leave me be" and Freddy frowns. He goes to say something else but stops himself upon realizing his attempts are futile and then finally turns to exit the cell.
Despite the discouraging encounter, he wasn't about to give up hope. He wasn't sure he could live with himself if he didn't find some way to make it up to Larry. To repair their previous relationship in some sense that would put the both of them at ease, even if it would never be what it had been in the beginning.
Contrary to what Larry might have believed, Freddy cared a great deal. While betrayal and grief was eating away at Larry, guilt and remorse was eating away at Freddy.
He didn't expect things to go as they had. He didn't expect to get so close to Larry. He didn't expect to care about him the way he did, to feel so strongly for him and he certainly didn't expect those feelings to be reciprocated. He didn't expect to be shot or for Larry to turn on his own friends for the sake of protecting him.
And even after all that, When Larry had the chance to take him out as the cops flooded the warehouse, he didn't.
Honestly, Freddy told the older man that he was the cop for a reason — because he knew he couldn't live with himself if he kept it a secret. Larry had protected him and taken his side without even a second thought despite the odds stacked against him. There was no way he could allow Larry to do that and then somehow move on with his life after that; that's why he told him. He deserved to know. He loved him too much not to let him know, but...Larry didn't kill him and that was the worst part.
He felt the cold tip of the gun pressed up to his neck and awaited the blow but it never came. Larry couldn't do it. He had always been too protective of him and for once, in that instance, it was a major inconvenience. He couldn't help but wonder if Larry regretted not doing it at this point. He supposed he'd ask if he ever got around to talking to him again, if Larry was willing to speak with him that was.
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(Authors note: Yo, this is my first Reservoir Dogs fanfic. I recently got into this movie and felt there was more to be said! I didn't realize there was even a fandom surrounding it still given it came out 1992 but somehow it's thriving and that makes my heart happy! Anyhow, hoped ya enjoyed the first chapter! Leave a comment to share your thoughts on it - I'd love to communicate with other members of the fan base. 8) )