Disclaimer: See Chapter One for all disclaimers.
For the record, I don't own Bosco either. Sighs heavily. Wish I did.
It was the same as before. His dad ignored him. "Aren't you gonna say something, Pops?"
"What for, Chris? You think you're going to change the world." His father dug into the mashed potatoes. "Why don't you and Katherine marry and have kids? Like your brother and Gina did?"
Scream rolled his eyes and his head. "Katherine and I broke up two years ago when I was in Somalia, remember?" His dad gave him a blank look. "Fuckin' Jesus. You're wanting us to get back together."
"Why not?" Anna Silas broke in. "She's a good girl."
"She's not an Army wife."
"Then get out of the Army." His mom handed him the yams.
"It's not that easy, Momma."
"Because you're not making it." She passed him the green beans. Chris sighed and stood up. "Where you going?"
Chris looked at his mom and said nothing. He went upstairs and started packing. "What?"
His younger brother Mike stood, leaning against the door frame. "Where you going?"
"Home."
"You are home."
Chris looked at his brother. "Nah. I'm in some sort of fuckin' dream world, Mikey." Scream angrily closed his pack. "I need to get away from here. I need to go home."
"Where's home?" Mike moved as Chris walked past.
"Fort Benning, if you must know." Chris stopped in his tracks. "Mikey, I'm a Ranger. I'm one of the Army's SpecOps. I'm nothin' else."
"Sure. Only cause you think the Army is a noble cause." It took all of Scream's control to not slam his brother against the wall. "What is so noble about it? Why not give it all up and settle down, have a family and work in the family business. You act like you do something far more special than it is. All you do is kill people. Innocent people, Chris. You kill…No. Make that MURDER innocent people."
Scream held back no longer. He slammed his brother against the wall. "I fight and kill so you can fuckin' call me a loser. I watch my fuckin' brothers die so you can condemn the job, the life, we fuckin' choose to live. What is so fuckin' noble about being an asshole, Mikey? Being a mother fuckin' pacifist? You think you can accomplish half the shit I have? Think again." He dropped his brother to the floor. "Merry fuckin' Christmas."
Scream sipped his beer. A lot happened between that Christmas in 1995 and now. He had changed. He was hardened to life and to death. He didn't cry anymore. In fact, he distinctly remembered the orphanage because that had been the first time in 12 years he had cried and he hadn't cried since. He hadn't even lost his temper like that in the past twelve years either.
If he had been the sentimental, live on memories type of person, he would have gone straight back to his parents house and apologize. But he wasn't. If Chris Silas was anything, he was stubborn. He was also prideful. He blamed his Italian heritage for both traits. And, if Chris Silas was stubborn, then Mauricio Silas was even more so then his son. So, even if the younger Silas had decided to go home and bury the hatchet, he knew that his father wouldn't.
So, Scream sat. He looked out at the street, wondering if he should take the high road and see his parents, if they even knew who he was. He sighed and decided that, if he were here, Angel would have told him to do so. He paid for his beer and Scream called for another taxi. If the first taxi driver, with his heavy New York accent, had made Chris mildly uncomfortable, then the turban wearing tanned man driving this taxi, made Chris extremely uncomfortable. He had, on more than one occasion during the drive, remind himself that this wasn't the usual Middle Eastern man he was used to dealing with. But, when he reached a small two-storied house on Long Island, he couldn't wait to get out of the taxi. He paid the driver double the amount and stood at the gate, debating with himself.
"You'll get shot if you stand there any longer." Chris turned around and saw a familiar face. "Fuckin' A! Chris! How the hell are you?"
Scream laughed. "Changed. But, can't say the same for you, now can we, Bosco?"
"Hey. I'm changed."
"Uh-huh." Chris smiled. "I heard you had become a cop. Where you at now?"
"Bed-Stuy."
Chris laughed. "I thought you said you wanted to leave combat behind."
"I thought the same of you. What ever happened to settling down with what's her name?" Maurice Boscorelli leaned against the fence.
"The last gal I was ever involved with long enough was Kath and we both know about that letter in Mog." He sighed. "She was killed on 9/11. She was there, at the Towers for work. Heard about it from Cammie."
"Yeah. It was awful. I was there." Bosco said nothing else and Scream didn't push him. "So, what brings you back anyhow? I thought your folks don't know you're even alive still."
"I know." Chris looked at the house. "I keep wondering what the fuck I'm doing either. You know if they still live here?"
"Yeah. They sorta ask me to look in on them from time to time. Ya know, kinda the son they never had."
Chris looked at his former fellow Ranger and close friend. "They ridin' your ass to settle down and start a family with a good girl from the neighborhood?"
"Every day." Bosco smiled.