A/N: Shout out to my fiancé for being a good sport while I neglected him working on this chapter. Lol.

Thank you all for reading, and let me know what you think in a rewiewwwwww


Chapter 1: Roots

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. Therefore, trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquility.
-Khalil Gibran


Freedom Fighters Incorporated was founded by Dr. Jayla Marie Harris in 1988. It is a multi-billion dollar, black-owned, organization that was created to provide quality legal assistance to impoverished African-American citizens facing trial. It was designed to aide those facing harsh sentences, whose only other option for representation would be a court appointed attorney. A public defender, who likely couldn't care less if they could remember their client's name, let alone if they were actually guilty of the crime which they stood accused.

Dr. Harris prided herself in all her organization had accomplished over the span of three decades. Her legal team consisted of nothing less than the best minoritycandidates top tier law schools around the nation had to offer. She had a bit of a reputation for her rigorous interview process and high standards for selecting candidates for said interview process. Freedom Fighters Incorporated was thee firm young scholars could only dream of working for one day.

Out of the hundreds of qualified personnel she's interviewed and ultimately employed nationwide, no one impressed her more than Huey Freeman. It goes without saying that impressing Dr. Harris was not for the faint of heart. He peaked her interest years ago, when he received massive press coverage for his boycott on Black Entertainment Television. She recognized that at only ten years old, he could see how the toxicity of the network manipulated the minds of the impressionable, and strived for the demise of the black community. Not only was he able to see this, but he put forth effort to change it as well. Dr. Harris was, nonetheless, interested in what this kid had to offer. After meeting in person with him when he was only fifteen years old, she knew immediately that she wanted him to work for her one day. She promised him if he could complete undergrad at the top of his class, she would have an internship ready for him at the organization's home office in Chicago, IL.

From Huey's very first day onward, he never ceased to amaze her. The kid could start his own government one day if he so chose. He was the hardest working and most compassionate person she'd ever employed, seasoned attorneys included. He was miles ahead of his peers; at twenty-six, he had already aced the bar exam and was making a handsome six figure salary. He always took on more than his share to help out; he never seemed to mind coming in early, staying late, or even taking his work home with him, and he was wildly intelligent. He was single-handedly responsible for keeping over two hundred defendants out of prison walls and freeing an additional several dozen, all within his first year with the firm as an unpaid intern. He had a very bright future ahead of him, and she wanted to be the one written down in the history books as being responsible for grooming such talent.

Lately, however, his performance had been… lackluster.

"Mr. Freeman!" She called to him. He was slouching at his desk, his elbow resting on the surface with his head in his palm. His other hand contained a document that she deduced he was probably reading at some point, his eyes now shut.

Huey's eyes flew open at the sound of his name, his posture straightening. "Yes, ma'am?" He asked, clearing his throat and turning his chair around to face his boss.

"Walk with me," she said. It wasn't a question, and she didn't wait for a response as she turned and walked towards the exit of the building, her sky-high Louboutin red bottoms clacking on the marble floor.

Huey jumped to his feet immediately, walking briskly as he tried to catch up to his eccentric mentor.

She lead him to the parking lot at the rear of the building, stopping to lean on the hood of her spotless, white Mercedes Benz. She reached a slender, manicured hand into the jacket pocket of her pinstriped pantsuit, pulling out a pack of Virginia Slims. She quickly placed one between her lips and lit the end, as she waited for Huey take his place next to her.

Huey said nothing as he leaned against her car, his hands in his pockets. Sitting next to Dr. Harris as she sucked poison into her lungs used to bother him tremendously. They smelled horrible, they deteriorated the body from inside out, and they caused cancer for crying out loud. He tried several times over the years to encourage her to kick the disgusting habit, only to be met with a "We're all gonna die, Huey. Someday, somehow." Now, he could respect that smoking was her personal choice, and he didn't try to push his narrative on her.

She took a long pull from her cigarette, releasing it with a sigh of satisfaction. "What's going on with you?" She asked, flicking her ashes onto the pavement. "You haven't been yourself lately. You're here, but you're not present."

"Nothing's going on, ma'am." Huey sighed. He could admit that he had been incredibly distracted since receiving Jazmine's… Wedding invitation… in the mail a few days prior. His body shuddered, involuntarily. He was hardly eating and he wasn't sleeping at all. He tried so hard not to think about it, that he inadvertently thought about it constantly. He couldn't focus, no matter how much he wanted to just burry himself in paperwork and disappear. To say he wasn't doing his best at work would be an understatement. "Honestly, I just have a lot on my mind lately."

"Ahhhhhhh," she retorted. "Can I ask you something?" She took one final pull from her cigarette before she tossed the remaining half of it into the parking lot. "What inspires you, Mr. Freeman?" She asked.

Huey raised a brow at her, caught off guard by her question.

"Cut the crap, Huey." She said, the wrinkles in her milk chocolate skin more prominent now as she frowned. "What inspires you? What drives you? What gets you out of bed in the morning?"

Huey looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were scattered about in various shades of grey, the sun nowhere to be found. He suddenly found himself grateful that it wasn't still raining. He only had to ponder the question briefly before he realized that he had no idea what motivated him anymore. Jazmine's recent news aside, it had been quite some time since the revolutionary felt inspired. He couldn't think of the last time he did feel it.

There was a time where he wouldn't hesitate at a question such as this. Without any fear or self doubt, he would tell you he's inspired by the social injustices seen all around him. He would say that seeing innocent people who look like him being targets of police brutality is what drove him. He would say that he got out of bed in the morning to fight for his people to have equal due process. He would tell you about Black Wall Street and Malcolm X. He would throw in some wisdom from Muhammad Ali or Khalil Gibran.

But now, a day in the life of Huey Freeman basically consisted of going through the motions.

"I know how much you hate to hear I don't know," he started. He turned his eyes from the sky to his boss. "But to keep it real with you, I'm not so sure."

She nodded slowly in understanding, expecting a similar response from him. "As of right now," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You are on vacation, my protégé."

Huey frowned. "Vacation? With all due respect, Dr. Harris, I don't need a-"

"Ah, but you do," She said. "You remind me a lot of myself, Huey. That's why I hold you to a much higher standard than the rest of those plebs in there." She gestured toward the building with her free hand. "That's also how I know that you're going through something right now."

Huey started to object, when she held up a bony finger to silence him.

"Now, I won't pry into your personal life. Whatever it is, that's your business. But what I will do is give you time to figure it out. You're like me, so I know that you won't take this time unless you're forced to."

"Forced?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," she chuckled. "Forced. This vacation is mandatory."

He shook his head. "I know that I've been my best, but you have my word that I'll-"

"When one loses their motivation," she interrupted, "they lose a part of themselves with it. You should know better than anyone that this isn't a line of work where you can half ass anything. You have to do more than just show up and do the work. Our people count on us to be present."

Huey stopped trying to argue his point and started really listening to what she had to say. This was his mentor, after all, a mother figure even, and her opinion was valuable. She didn't take the time to have conversations like this with just anyone.

"You are a revolutionary, Huey. You're the best damn attorney I've ever known, better than I ever was. But right now? All I see is a shell of your former self." She gave his shoulder a firm squeeze before dropping her hand at her side. "If you lose your moxie, kid, then there's no hope for the rest of us."

"So," Dr. Harris stood up from the hood of her car and faced him. "What I need you to do is take the next thirty days off. Travel, brush up on your literature, get back to your roots. Whatever it takes for you to get inspired again, do it! And do it without fear. I trust that you understand."

He nodded. She needed him to get his shit together and he completely understood, if he was being honest with himself. "So is this 'mandatory vacation' paid?"

She smirked. "What do you take me for, kid? I'm not a monster." She lit another cigarette, leaning back on her car as she exhaled. "Now, get out of here. Leave your notes on your desk, and I will personally handle your cases from here."

"You really should quit, you know." He said, making his way back to the building to collect his things.

She shrugged. "We're all gonna die, Huey. Someday, somehow."


Huey pulled into his driveway earlier than usual, courtesy of his "mandatory vacation." The entire ride home, he thought about what Dr. Harris said to him. She wasn't wrong at all, he also felt like a shell of his former self. It was as if the fire in his belly went out long ago, leaving an empty cavity in its place. What inspires you? He thought. He rested his head on his steering wheel, trying to pinpoint the last time he truly felt inspired by something.

All at once, memories of Robert Jebediah Freeman flooded his mind. In his old age, his grandfather took in two headstrong boys, who had nobody else to look out for them. He moved them to Woodcrest from the urban streets of south side Chicago in order to give them a better life, to give them better opportunities than what their surroundings could provide. He wasn't perfect by any means, however he did more for Huey and Riley than most would have. Living off of his grandfather's fixed income until they were able to support themselves, he and his brother wanted for nothing. They always had clothes on their backs, food in their bellies, and ass-whoopings to keep them humble. Huey wouldn't be half of who he was today if it wasn't for that man.

And he repaid him by never visiting him and hardly ever calling to check on him. Huey's chest tightened from the overwhelming force of guilt. How incredibly selfish was he to neglect his family in the process of trying to sort out his feelings for Jazmine? And to add insult to injury, he never got around to sorting out said feelings. They didn't deserve that, Jazmine included. He gathered his belongings, exited his car and headed into his house.

Sitting his briefcase and keys on the kitchen table, Huey began to feel angry with himself. He, Riley, and Granddad were all each other had left, and here he was putting an unnecessary strain on their relationship. How the hell did it take him so long to see that? He was so good at bottling up his feelings and pushing them aside, that he never realized that he was also keeping his family out of his life. Whenever his emotions began to rise to the surface, he buried himself in his work. As long as he was constantly busy, he wouldn't have room to think about topics that made him uncomfortable. This feat was simultaneously a pro and con; tremendous success stemmed from him constantly being on the move with his work and always having his emotions under control. However, his success came at what cost? This would be his first vacation in five years. He kept himself busy for five entire years… When did he become so selfish?

He grabbed a cold bottle of water from his refrigerator, taking a seat at the table. He once again thought back to what Dr. Harris said. Get back to your roots. He thought. Growing up in Woodcrest, he always felt like Chicago was his home. He used to dream about getting back to home to Aunt Cookie's homemade sweet potato pies. While Riley was out doing dumb shit, he used to long for boisterous adventures with Cairo. He always thought his roots were planted here. When he met Dr. Harris years ago, the thought of moving back to Chicago interested him more than the thought working for her. Leaving Woodcrest for grad school had less to do with his Alma Mater's academic program, and more to do with being in Chicago.

Huey sighed, taking another swig from his water bottle. He closed his eyes as he felt the coolness make its way down his throat and into his stomach. It was nice not having to bear the weight of the world for once. He loved his career dearly; helping his people was what he was born to do. However, he couldn't remember the last time he sat down and thought about his own life, instead of sorting through evidence for this person and interviewing witnesses for that person.

Get back to your roots. The phrase kept repeating in his mind. Perhaps he had unintentionally planted roots back in Woodcrest as well. It was the place where the Hill resided, his favorite place to go for silence and tranquility. It was the place where he had a great deal of firsts; his first time, his first job, his first car and many more. It was the place where his only remaining family lived. It was the place where he met Michael Caesar, whom he shared countless fond memories with. It was the place where he met Jazmine DuBois, who was getting married in three weeks-

He stopped himself right there. He didn't want to think about that. Normally when thoughts of her crossed his mind, he knew it was time to get back to work. But without any work to do… Suddenly, the guilt he felt thinking about his grandfather came back to mind. He decided he would give him a call. He retrieved his cell phone from a pocket inside of his briefcase and dialed the only number besides his own that he knew by memory. The phone rang five times, and Huey was actually getting ready to hang up when he heard an all too familiar voice on the other end pick up.

"Hello?!" Robert answered, his tone loud and sharp as ever. The television was blaring in the background. Huey could instantly tell that he was watching The Real Housewives of Compton. He was shocked that the show was still on air.

Huey smiled at the sound of his voice. "Hey, Granddad."

"BOY! Did you forget your key, AGAIN?! What's wrong with you?! I oughta bust yo behind!" He shouted.

"No, Granddad, it's me," he said. He felt a twang of anxiety bubbling in his stomach. He didn't know how this conversation was going to play out.

There was a brief pause. "Huey?" He asked. "Boy, is it really you?"

"Yeah," he replied. He stood up from the table and began walking slowly around his house, unable to sit still.

"Ooooohhhhhhhh!" He said sarcastically. "Mister Hot Shot lawyer. Mister Big Pimping. Mister 'I'm too good to check in on my granddaddy!'"

Huey sighed. "I'm sorry, Granddad."

"'I'm sorry, Granddad,' my ass! Whew." Robert huffed. "Where the hell have you been, boy?!"

"I've been busy, Grand-"

"Tough titty!" He interrupted.

"I miss you, Granddad." Huey said, holding back a chuckle. He was still wondering aimlessly around his house, examining random objects.

"Shut the hell up, boy, no you don't! Folks that miss their Granddaddy VISIT!" Robert retorted.

He was quiet for a while, guilt eating away at his chest. "I'll come visit you soon, I promise."

"A damn lie." Robert scoffed. "When?"

Huey hesitated for a moment, thinking. If he returned home now, he'd have plenty of time to spend with his family with no obligation to hurry back to work. He would have ample time and opportunity to make amends with his friends, his grandfather, and his little brother. On the other hand, if he returned home now, he would have to face her. He would have to confront his feelings for her and he would have to acknowledge her wedding. He could hear Dr. Harris' voice echoing in his mind like a conscious: Get back to your roots. Whatever it takes for you to get inspired again, do it! And do it without fear.

Do it without fear. He heard his mentor's voice repeat the phrase in his head like a mantra, encouraging him.

"Tomorrow," he responded finally. "I'll catch a flight out tonight."

"Huey Freeman, don't play with me, boy." He warned.

"I'm dead serious, Granddad. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

"Boy?" Robert called, his tone a bit less harsh than before.

"Yeah, Granddad?" Huey made himself stop wondering around, taking a seat on his suede sofa.

"Before you come all the way out here, you should know something." He took a deep breath before he continued. "Your brother ain't gonna be too happy to see you."

Huey frowned in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Ohhhh, no. That's for y'all to sort out amongst yourselves. My name is Bennett, and I ain't in it!"

"I hear you, Granddad." He said. He glanced at his watch, noticing it was approaching time for rush hour traffic. "I'm gonna go book a flight, Granddad. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Mmmhmmm, I'll believe it when I see it." Robert said, hanging up the phone.

Huey just sat there on his sofa for a minute, grinning. He didn't realize how much he missed his family; that brief phone conversation with his grandfather was like the first breath of fresh air one takes after being underwater. Without wasting any more time, he used his phone to book an online ticket to Baltimore. For a moment, he thought about how incredibly impulsive it was to simply pick up and leave on the drop of a dime. It wasn't at all in his nature to make impulsive decisions. He was always the one who carefully planned all outcomes of a situation, and prepared for each outcome before making any moves.

Do it without fear. He heard the voice in his mind recall to him. He shook his head. It was time for a change, he supposed.

Quickly making his way upstairs, he grabbed a suitcase from his hallway closet. He filled it only with essentials, such as toiletries, undergarments, a few outfits and a couple pairs of shoes. Anything extra he might need, he decided he would pick up along the way. As he waited for his Uber to arrive, he decided to empty the contents of his fridge so they won't spoil while he's away. He didn't know how long he'd be in Woodcrest, and he didn't want the god damned food in his refrigerator to be the reason he had to hurry back.

After all, he was new to the whole impulsive decision making thing. He couldn't help but to prepare a little bit.


Huey was in a state of euphoria as he rode through Woodcrest, passing so many familiar places. There wasn't anything spectacular about his flight, however being back here filled his gut with a flutter of emotions. Memories clogged his psyche as he passed Wally World, the Hill, J. Edgar Hoover, the courthouse, his grandfather's old soul food restaurant, and the Wuncler Estate. A great deal of his life happened right here in this small community. How could he stay away for so long?

His chest tightened as his Uber driver turned onto Timid Deer Lane, feelings of anxiety taking over. His plan was to go home first, settle in, and make amends with his family. He wanted to erase any tension there might be, and apologize for his extended absence. He wanted to help out any way that he could, financially or otherwise. Then, he would seek out his friends and make up for lost time. Finally, he would talk to Jazmine. He didn't work out exactly what he was going to say to her, but he knew she was long overdue for an apology, and he owed her congratulations on her engagement.

The car slowed to a stop in front of his childhood home. Huey thanked his driver, leaving a handsome tip before collecting his suitcase and climbing out of the backseat. He looked up at the house, studying it. It hadn't changed much since he last saw it, he noticed. The only real difference he could tell was that the paint was chipping on the porch and the window panels. Also, it could've used a decent power wash. He decided he would take care of it, as soon as he got settled in and made his rounds.

He walked up the short flight of steps onto the porch, sitting his suitcase down on the surface. The closer he got to the front door, the more commotion he heard from within the house. The unmistakable musical stylings of Thugnificent was blasting on the other side of the door, indicating that Riley was home. Huey couldn't wait to catch up with him. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he rang the doorbell twice.

He heard movement on the other side as he waited; it sounded like someone was running down the steps from the second floor. A few seconds later, the door flew open. There stood Riley Freeman, sporting black basketball shorts, a wife beater, a durag, and a scowl on his now bearded face.

Huey smiled, genuinely glad to see his little brother. He extended a hand to dap him him up. "My nigga," he said.

Riley didn't return the smile. Instead, he glared down at his brother's hand silently.

Huey frowned. Granddad did say he wouldn't be happy to see me. He thought. He let his hand fall back down at his side. "Riley, what's u-"

Suddenly, Riley's left fist collided against Huey's jaw with a hard cracking sound, sending him flying backwards on the porch of their childhood home.

"Bitch ass nigga," Riley muttered. Before Huey could even process what just happened, Riley aggressively slammed the door shut, leaving the eldest Freeman brother alone on the porch.