A/N 2: A/N 2 : So not much is changed in this chapter, but it is updated and edited as of 6/25/15.

A/N: So it's been a million years again. I'll keep this short, because I'm sure no one read these things-I am still working on this, but I don't know when it will be updated. Reviews are like gold, especially reviews that involve constructive criticism. I mean, I don't want to be told I suck anymore than anyone else, but if you see room for improvement let me know. And for now, enjoy!

"Just where have you been?" Theo called, straightening up from where he'd been marking some boxes with a magic marker and giving Rick an appraising look as he walked up the driveway.

"At work-sorry, the meeting ran over." Rick shrugged with a smile as he came to a stop by his grandfather, and pointed at a pile of boxes sitting at the mouth of the garage, "These ready to go in the truck?"

Theo rocked back on his heels, a hint of a smirk playing around his mouth as he shook his head, "Huh. You know, I might not know just what you're up to, but I can tell you're up to something. Grandad always knows, you just remember that." Then the smirk dropped off his face as he turned back to his work, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the house behind him, "Get your butt upstairs and help your brother with his mattress like you said you would."

"Uh, yes sir."

Sometimes Rick forgot just how scary Mister Theo could be when he wanted.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Lily had finished with the refrigerator, including pulling out the vegetable bin and washing it in the far too tiny sink, and moved onto the drawers. As she went to pull out the second to the last one, assuming

that like the rest it would have enough crumbs/dust it would be easiest to just dump it in the garbage can and then wipe it down, something large and hairy skittered over the top of her hand and she slammed the drawer shut with a gasp, jumping backwards all the way to the cabinet opposite.

Shuddering, she mumbled to herself, "Okay, that was a mouse...a mouse that has gotten very fat off the crumbs left behind in this kitchen." She stood up slowly, watching where she put her hand as she used the counter as a lever, "Poor thing is probably a lot more scared of me than I am of him..." Talking herself down clearly wasn't working as Lily continued to backpedal out of the kitchen and then huddled up on the loveseat making sure none of her limbs were touching the ground.

She really hated mice.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Lexi, having elected to stay behind in case Billy woke up, was sitting on the kitchen counter swinging her feet and idly munching on a sandwich when she heard footsteps in the hallway. The others had just left, but she would have heard the commotion of them coming back if they forgot something, and Momma Lynn shouldn't be home for a little while longer.

Billy. Sliding off the counter she headed towards the doorway, but Billy, eyes half-lidded and walk barely a shuffle, made it through first and went straight for the refrigerator. "Hey Billy." He grunted but otherwise didn't acknowledge her, already bent over with his head half inside the fridge, and from what she could tell just grabbed the first thing he could see, pulling the casserole dish from last night out and plopping it on the counter. "Um, do you want some help?" Billy mumbled something she couldn't understand as he pulled a bowl out of the cupboard above him and started to dish himself up. He piled a huge portion of macaroni in his bowl and then turned around and headed back out of the room, Lexi trailing after him not sure if there was something she should do. "Are you okay?" Another indistinct mumble that she couldn't understand. Lexi stopped at the base of the stairs watching him stumble his way up them, wondering if he was really even awake, "Okay then..."

The front door opened and Lynn walked in, taking in the picture and walking up behind Lexi, "Billy's up? How's he doing?"

Lexi frowned, considering, "Well...I think he may have turned into a zombie."

*.*.*.*.*.*

"Lily?" Cammy paused in halfway through opening the apartment door as she saw her sister sitting in the center of the loveseat, knees to her chest and arms wrapped around them, "What's wrong?" She looked around the apartment as though expecting a masked murderer to jump out of a corner, and when she saw nothing, stepped in further, "Seriously, what's up?"

"Mice. Big, nasty, disease ridden mice." Lily shuddered and pulled her knees even closer to her body. Cammy bit her lip-she knew about Lily's phobia of course, but wasn't particularly good at talking her down.

"I'll get Rick." Which was totally why she was backing out of the apartment, because Lily needed Rick, and not because she wanted to be very far away from any mice herself...

*.*.*.*.*.*

Allen winced a bit as his boss muttered bitter words in his ears, one finger in the ear that the phone wasn't up against, so he could hear him over the traffic whizzing by, but didn't take it to heart-he wouldn't fire him, he couldn't replace him, no one else would do his job for what the old bastard paid, not anyone who knew what they were doing anyway-and waited for him to trail off before speaking again, "I'll try to be back in a week-"

"You will be back in a week or you're fired-not many people would give you that with no notice, so consider yourself lucky." Then he hung up, and Allen got the feeling that if he hadn't been on a cell he would have slammed it.

"Fuck." Well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. If he was lucky, he wouldn't need more than a few days, and could be back in a week no problem. But if he couldn't...

Family first. He made sure his pack was strapped securely to his back, fastened the helmet resting on his head, pulled the old fashioned goggles over his eyes-face guards made him feel trapped, but he'd be damned if he was getting bugs in his eyes-and started the bike he was already straddling, pulling out into traffic almost immediately, going a little too fast and a lot too close as he weaved in and out of the speeding cars. If he was lucky he could be there before midnight.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Liam looked steadily at Henry across the table of the small house they rented as they ate, spooning the pasta-roni they were having slowly into his mouth. Henry had been getting more and more uncomfortable, squirming just a bit, but not saying anything-which was how Liam knew something was up. If he wasn't feeling guilty he would have asked what his problem was by now. As it was it was getting close. Finally he broke down, looking up, and about to blurt out whatever popped into his head first, if old patterns held true. "So you want to watch the game, after?" Huh. Not what he'd expected.

"We always do." Henry was sweating now.

"Dude, why are you staring at me?"

"Maybe I just think you look hot." Okay, not entirely fair tactics, and Liam grinned a bit as Henry blushed. He liked doing that-and he did look pretty hot, or really blushing like that, pretty cute. But he might not survive if he said that, it had always bothered Henry for reasons he didn't understand. And anyway, finding out what exactly his idiot boyfriend and the idiot kid he considered family, for some damn reason, were up to was a little more important than getting laid. Not having to bury either of them any time soon was one of his major goals in life, and they didn't always make it easy.

"Quit being a dick."

"Quit hiding things from me." Yep, he was taking it there.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Brent looked around at his new apartment. It was too quiet. Pretty awesome, but too quiet. He'd wanted to be left here, and even though Mister Theo had been expecting to take him home for dinner, when he'd told him that his Granddad hadn't been at all surprised-he wouldn't let Cammy stay though.

He wasn't used to silence. Growing up the way he did, you just weren't. It was weird. He walked over to his little bedroom area where he'd slung the backpack he'd packed full of all the things he needed right away and pulled his laptop and cord out and plugged it into the wall, quickly turning it on and opening his music file. He hesitated for a moment, then smiled, realizing there was no one here to make fun of his music and started to play his favorite Chumbawamba album "Never Mind The Ballots."

That was better. And...yeah that would make things much better. In short order Brent had an incense stick burning on his bedside table and a joint rolled up sitting in front of him waiting to be smoked. He went to light it, then hesitated. He should probably get his fan blowing-it was too big to pack in a box so it was just sitting by the door where he'd left it, and he should crack a window or two. He had, Brent suddenly realized, neighbors.

It was probably better not to piss them off his first day here.

Half an hour later Brent was laying back on his bed, humming along to the end of "Here's the Rest of Your Life", incense and weed smoke drifting around his head, the fan mostly just blowing it around rather than blowing it out the window, but he was now too relaxed to care.

He could get used to this. Laying here, just drifting, nothing more important to do than decide whether a nap or ordering pizza was more important. The album came to an end and he decided it was too much trouble to start it again. A few minutes later quiet snores began to permeate the small apartment.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Lynn wasn't entirely pleased when told that Brent wasn't coming home for dinner, but she was doing her best not to show it, well aware that she had nothing to be upset about. He wanted to enjoy his first night in his apartment, and she wanted him to too. She was so proud of him.

But she'd thought she was getting one more evening, and felt a bit cheated.

Her Daddy, of course, knew. She should be used to it by now. Theo knew everything.

"Babies grow up, but they never really leave us, not for good. They always need you, just for different things. I should know." He'd said the words unprompted, squeezed her once, then set off on his way again. Sometimes, the way he just seemed to drift from place to place when needed, dispensing advice and comfort, reminded her of the old legends she'd heard as a child about Methuselah, the ones that said he hadn't died at all but still wandered the earth here and there, doing what was needed.

And he was right, she knew.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

Now, after dinner, as they nursed their dessert the rest of the kids were making plans, and she suddenly began to realize just how empty her house was going to be at night now. They'd still be in and out during the day, still young enough yet she was sure they would appear for food, laundry, and even the occasional bit of comfort for a few years now. And she'd get her Sunday dinners for the rest of her life if she had anything to say about it. Lily and Rick had been on their own for two years now, and they were still over here all the time, and at Gav's too. But just at this moment, they all seemed to be leaving her far too fast, and without near the preparation for the real world Lynn had thought she'd be able to give them.

She forced herself out of her thoughts in time to hear Gavriil put the kibosh on something the girl's were concocting, "No, no sleepovers when I'm not there-not after what you did to my living room last time." Lexi opened her mouth to complain, but Gavriil shot her a look and cut her off before she could, "Lily has her own home now, if you girls want to systematically destroy a house-excuse me, have a sleepover, surely you can do it there."

The girls exchanged thoughtful looks at this-it was an interesting idea even if half the fun of a sleepover was driving Uncle Gav crazy-as Rick looked wary. "What did they do to the living room?"

"Nail polish. Sparkly blue nail polish. Everywhere." Gav seemed to be chewing his lip just thinking about it. Lynn who had heard the story right after it happened bit back a chuckle at the look on her brother's face.

"But I didn't mean to get the nail polish bottle stuck on the ceiling fan!" Cammy half-wailed, clearly still feeling guilty, or at least embarrassed, even though it had had happened nearly half a year ago, as almost everyone-including Mister Theo-hid their snickers. Rick looked at his little sister thoughtfully, as though suddenly realizing there was much more potential for destruction there than he had realized.

Who was Lynn kidding. These kids would need her forever-to protect them against people seeking revenge for property damage if nothing else. "You know you can use the living room here if you want-but I better not wake up to a front lawn covered in gummy bears again."

Lexi and Cammy suddenly looked everywhere but at Lynn as Lily and Rick looked incredibly confused, and Gav with an air of long suffering mixed with amusement asked, "Wait, what?"

"Uhh...well, you see...we, kinda..." Lexi stumbled along in her explanation for a minute before Mister Theo took pity on her and interrupted.

"I woke up to these two and Brent having a gummy bear fight at one in the morning, for the entertainment of the neighborhood. Amit says "Thank you" for the show by the way." He directed the last bit to the two girls. Lexi blushed, not sure what to say, but Cammy grinned, apparently quite amused by this.

"And you left the gummy bears on the front lawn for your Momma Lynn to find? And pick up?" Gav looked down his long nose at the girls, brows drawing together. He wasn't particularly upset, but had figured out that letting the children in on that wasn't conducive to them actually listening.

"Grandad Theo told us to go to bed."

"Yeah, we have to listen to Mister Theo."

Gavriil rolled his eyes at this deflection. "No more one a.m gummy bear fights."

*.*.*.*.*.*

"Hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell, when you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well, I hope it gives you hell!" Rick winced as Cammy and Lexi sang along at the top of their lungs, wishing he hadn't agreed to drive the two younger girls home as his eardrums rattled. Lily had had to drop something off at the store, and so she had taken Granddad home and would catch up with them later. He put up with the rendition for the rest of the song, torn between amusement and annoyance, and then hurriedly switched off the radio when it ended.

"I think that's enough music for now."

"Oh, come on," and, "Dude, you suck,", came from Cammy and Lexi respectively and Rick rolled his eyes.

"Hush up with all that now, nothing wrong with talking for a minute. You two have school tomorrow, with everything that's happened have you had time to get your work done?"

Lexi answered readily, "I only have the one English class on Monday, and yeah all we had was reading, and I got it all done early."

"Good. What about your Tuesday/Thursday classes? Don't you have an essay due this week?" They were at a stoplight now and he looked over at her to read her face. Lexi was plenty smart, but she had a tendency to procrastinate and then be overwhelmed. She was mostly a good student, but there had been an incident a few semesters ago, and he had every intention of kicking her butt if it happened again. She'd dropped the class before she could fail it, but Lily had explained to him exactly what it meant to have a W on your record...

"Mostly." This was said with markedly less enthusiasm then her first statement, and Rick quirked an eyebrow at her for clarification even as he navigated around a corner, and with some reluctance she continued, "Math is done, the essay is for English but it's due next week, and I still need to finish my power point for History. But I started it, and it's not due till Tuesday."

Rick nodded, "Alright, sounds good to me. Just get it done." He turned his attention to Cammy and was amused to see that she was practically vibrating she wanted to tell him what it was that she had been working on so bad. "What about you?"

"I get to perform a skit I wrote on Monday for drama class. We all had to write one and then the group I was assigned to had to pick the one they liked best, and they all choose mine. Isn't that great?"

"Fantastic. I bet it will be awesome." He grinned at her, the enthusiasm catching. "What about your other classes?"

"Boring, but done except for a chapter in Wuthering Heights, and I'll read that before bed tomorrow." Then she turned the radio back on. Rick shot her a look but let it go, and couldn't help but tap his finger to the beat and grin as the girls began instantly singing along to the Everclear song that was playing.

Hey, it was a good song.

*.*.*.*.*.*

Lily, slightly tipsy now, looked up in surprise from the game of spoons her and the younger girls were playing as Rick walked into the room, jacket, hat, and boots on, keys dangling from one hand. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna head over to see what Brent's up to, if you guys get to party I figure we should get to too. Plus, make sure he hasn't burned the place down or poisoned himself." He grinned a lopsided grin at her, "Don't wait up."

"Wasn't planning on it. Don't get into too much trouble."

"Always." He tipped his hat at her, and Lily rolled her eyes but couldn't help the amused, almost indulgent smile he brought to her lips. She blew him a kiss, idly wondering if he'd meant always, as in he always got into too much trouble-it would be a lot more honest than the alternative.

"I don't know if you can call the three of us playing spoons and listening to Pandora partying." Cammy interjected thoughtfully, not looking up from where she was shuffling the cards for another round.

"Said the seventeen year old drinking a screwdriver in my living room."

"Point to Rick." Lexi smirked and Cammy stuck out her tongue at first her, then Rick.

"Alright, well have fun kids." Rick suddenly tossed something through the air at them, before turning on his heel and heading for the door, Lexi just managing to catch it just before it would have plopped right into her drink, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, and all that." All three girls grinned at the large sweet smelling blunt Lexi was holding then looked at each other, the sound of the door shutting barely registering in the background.

"I'll clean up the cards and open the window." Cammy said already grabbing the cards she'd dealt out.

"I'll grab the ashtray and get That 70's Show on Netflix." said Lexi.

"I shall get the munchies." Lily uncurled herself off the floor with that effortlessly graceful way she had, off in search of pringles and fruit snacks. Five minutes later the girls were ensconced on the couch, the "Canadian Roadtrip" episode playing on the screen, a blanket strewn with various types of junk food spread across their laps and smoke pooling above their heads as they passed the blunt back and forth.

*.*.*.*.*.*

As Brent stared around the smoky room he wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to hotbox his apartment with the windows cracked and the fan on but he had. On the bright side, his neighbor had came and knocked on his door about the weed, but he sure hadn't been unhappy about it. Dude had wanted to know where the "dank green skunk weed" was. Brent didn't give out his dealers info as a rule; not only was he a homie, but that was just rude. He did invite over the dude, who seemed to be in his late thirties, to smoke a bowl, which they did after dude-who's name was actually Nathan-went and got his "lady" as he called her. She came in smiled and introduced herself, took a bong hit, then headed back to their place pretty quick, mumbling something about kids.

Brent wasn't entirely sure how the guy had talked him into ordering pizza, but he'd paid for half of it so that was cool, but it had been a couple hours now and he kinda wished the dude would take off. Didn't he have better stuff to do? It was like, 8:30. He was just wondering how exactly to ask him to leave-or at least to take his flip flops off Brent's table-when there was a pounding at his door and a loud voice cried, "Sheriff's Office! Open the door immediately!"

Nathan about jumped out of his skin, blurting out "What the fuck?!" and winding up partway off the couch, but Brent just laughed as he lugged himself to his feet.

"Relax, it's just my older brother thinking he's funny." The man slowly rearranged himself back in his seat as Brent crossed to the door and swung it wide, shaking his head at Rick grinning, quite proud of himself in the doorway. "Yeah, I quit falling for that the third time you did it-back when I was, like, fifteen."

"Yeah, whatever, you know I scared you." He stepped through the doorway grinning, rolling his eyes at how smoky the room was and the obvious stoner dude sitting on his brother's couch. "You didn't waste any time making friends." Rick nodded to the dude on the couch, taking in the flip-flops, long scruffy goatee, and ancient tank top, "Name's Rick."

"Nathan." Rick nodded again, and moved further into the room. Nathan looked a lot like a grown up version of Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and Rick wasn't sure what to make of him, and the guy didn't give him much chance, glancing down at his watch and wincing, "Shoot, is it that late? Hate to vacate the party, but if I don't help my lady put our littles to bed all of 'em will be unhappy with me tomorrow." He stood up stretching a bit, and then headed out of the house with a nod to the room. As the door closed Brent sighed and sagged against the wall.

"Thank God, dude." Rick frowned now.

"What? Am I missing something? Did he do something?" He turned his frown in the direction of the door that Nathan had gone out.

"Nah, he just got hella annoying after awhile. And he kept killing every bowl I loaded in one hit." Brent looked mournfully in the direction of his bong and jar, the latter sitting on it's side, woefully empty.

"That's why you take the first hit, dingus. And you know, learn to say no to people every once in awhile." Brent rolled his eyes at this advice, and followed Rick as he moved over to flop on the couch. "Besides, this room is so smoky there is no way you aren't high, my head is swimming just sitting here."

Rick grinned a little to himself as Brent grumbled discontentedly, then mumbled "yeah" under his breath, trying not to pout. He pulled the blunt he'd brought with him out from under his cap, where it had been resting on the top of his ear and tossed it in his little brother's lap. Brent glanced down, confused for a moment then a smile spread across his face, "Hey, cool, you rock."

"Thank you, I totally agree." Brent accidentally-on-purpose elbowed (lightly) his far too cocky brother as he leaned over to grab the lighter and TV remote off the table, handing the remote to Rick who chuckled even as he rubbed his side, and then smacked Brent on the back of the head when he wasn't looking. The roughhousing continued for a minute, both boys getting in several jabs; almost descending into a full out wrestling match, before they got a bit worried for the safety of the blunt and called a truce. They leaned against the back of the couch companionably for a minute catching their breath, and then Brent stuck the blunt in his mouth going to light it and Rick looked at him askance. "You're gonna light it now? Aren't you high enough?"

"I told you," Brent mumbled around the blunt, "Nathan smoked up all my weed." He inhaled as he held the flame to the tip, sucking in the mixture of weed and tobacco leaf smoke (as they used real blunt wraps...highly flavored, but still-real), exhaling and coughing, then hitting it again.

"Yeah, well...I don't really believe you, but," Rick said as he grabbed the blunt before Brent could triple hit it, "I also don't really care right now, so..." He hit it deeply himself, then looked around for an ashtray, and seeing none, ashed into the top of Brent's bong.

"Hey!"

"What? The water's full of ash anyway. You should change it."

"Yeah, but not through the top where my mouth goes, and only weed ash too, not blunt leaf."

"Well, get me an ashtray then."

Brent looked around for a moment, realized he didn't have one, and then shrugged and ashed into the bong himself. Rick turned the TV to the history channel-not that it ever played history programs anymore-and the two sat in companionable silence for awhile, just passing the blunt back and forth. "So," Rick interjected into the silence, "I've got an idea..."

*.*.*.*.*.*

Gav sat on the back steps staring out at the night around him. You would think the hill in the backyard would block the view, but as the woods rose even higher behind it, at least on the one side, it really just provided a nice framework for the trees and sky beyond it. Everyone was gone now and it was getting dark, later than he was used to. Full spring was upon them, nearly nine and the moon was just up. The house was almost empty, only Billy asleep in the guest bedroom and Lynn rattling around in her study. He hadn't known what to do with himself, hadn't wanted to bother his sister and so he'd come outside. It had helped his agitation, his desire to do something, a little, but not much.

The backdoor swung open behind him, but before he had time to be startled he recognized Lynn's even footfalls. She lowered herself down onto the steps beside him and passed him a open bottle of beer before taking a swig out of her own, which he accepted with quiet thanks. "It's just one crisis after another isn't it?"

"I'd say most of the time what we call a crisis is just a minor distraction, compared to this mess." Lynn chuckled darkly at the end of her sentence, and took an even longer drink of her beer, and Gavriil bumped his shoulder into hers in reassurance.

"Yeah. But we'll get through it."

"Mhm. We always do."

*.*.*.*.*.*

Allen pulled into town a little after ten-and just how fast he'd had to go to get home in that short a time he would take to his grave-and careened along the familiar back streets until he came to The Bloodhound, a bar Mayfeather frequented most nights, at least he had when Allen knew him. He pulled around the back, parking his bike on the far side of the back dumpster in some convenient shadows where he could get out onto the road easily from a small side street. It was more than easy to walk unnoticed up to the building and sidle around to a small nook on the side mostly blocked by a few straggly but tall shrubs where he knew he'd be able to see a bit of the bar through a grimy window.

He looked around, growling a bit under his breath as he spotted Mayfeather and his crew sitting around a group of tables carrying on, laughing and posturing, making fools of themselves. The man wasn't aging well, back just starting to stoop, arms and legs skinnier and potbelly rounder than it had been the last time he'd seen him, but he took no notice of it, still holding court like he thought he was a king; that razor sharp smile, not a nice smile, a shark's smile, ever present on his face. He looked around a bit more and his heart about stopped when he saw his boy and his nephew, sitting plain as day along the bar, a loud shocked noise leaving him involuntarily. Cursing, he pivoted 180 degrees so that his back was flat against the wall. It was very unlikely anybody heard him, impossible really, but better not to take any chances. Allen just froze there for a long moment, mind racing. He'd known Charlie wasn't fucking with him, but still he hadn't fully understood just how far Rick was taking this, or how fast.

He as sure as fuck hadn't expected Ricky to bring Brent into it, not like this anyway. Boy wasn't even old enough to be in the damn bar!

Allen didn't know for sure what their plan was, whether they were just watching, or planned to try and cozy up to Mayfeather, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna stand for it. He risked another peak in the window and saw that everyone was still in the same spot, none the wiser, and as he watched Brent downed a tequila shooter and came up spluttering. Stupid kids, mixing business with pleasure like that was just asking to be hurt. A scowl on his lips, Allen thought for a moment, then made himself comfortable up against the far wall, sliding down so he would be hard to see and silenced his phone just in case, and started composing a text to his fool kid.

*Rick you wanna tell me why my buddy just called and let me know that my boy and my nephew are in the fucking Bloodhound? Brent ain't old enough, you trying to get him in trouble? And that's a shady, dirty place, I don't care if you are grown, I don't want you in there. You better not be too drunk to drive somewhere else.*

He sent it out, and hoped that Rick wouldn't be stubborn. If he pulled off what he hoped to tonight, it was very important no one knew he was in town yet. But if he had to...well if he had to he'd go in there and pull both the boys out by their ears. They were already in over their heads, even if they didn't know it yet. Allen's phone shook as Rick texted him back, and he returned his attention to the screen.

*What? I'm not drunk. I don't know what you're talking about, me and Brent are at his new apartment.*

Allen was going to kill him. He was going to kill him, and then he was going to hand him over to Lynn so she could do it over again.

*Boy, you don't lie to me. You think I don't have a clue what's going on? I've been talking to Lynn, I know all about the beef with Mayfeather. You don't have ANY business in the Bloodhound. Take your brother and move your ass now, or I swear to God, you will not like what happens next.*

He sent it with angry satisfaction and then took another look inside, enjoying the way he could see Rick's face blanch and the hurried way he grabbed Brent by the shoulder, almost pulling him off his bar stool in his sudden haste to leave, slapping a wad of cash down for the bartender and not waiting for his change.

He watched them for as long as he could, and then listened for the telltale sound of his boy's charger firing up and pulling away. Then he sat in for a long wait. It was early yet and he needed the good ol' boys inside a sight more liquored up then they were.

Allen didn't know how long he'd sat there before he fell asleep but he woke up to the sound of an engine revving. He shook himself awake, inwardly cursing. But he didn't have to worry for long, a quick glance inside told him that his targets were still there. The crowd was thinning out, no groups gathered out front laughing and smoking, but still enough people that you wouldn't notice someone in the parking lot as being amiss. A glance at his watch told him it was just after one. It was time.

It was simple stuff really. Sowing the seeds of discord. Mayfeather had driven a truck when he knew him but it hadn't been to hard to learn that somewhere in the last few years he'd developed a taste for hot rods. He skulked around to the side where he'd seen the yellow car earlier, surrounded by vehicles belonging to the rest of his little crew. Good ol' Artie had left the windows open, and since a few of the others had done the same, or had saddlebags on their bikes, it was easy enough to move a few things around, back and forth like, most of the stuff shoved into spots in Artie's car he wouldn't look into right away, but others distributed here and there, and a few things permanently disappeared. Simple stuff, but effective. He moved quietly and fluidly, but did not crouch or otherwise try to mask his presence, not wanting to look anything but like he had every right to be doing what he was doing, and in another moment he was back along the side of the building and sidled along until he was back in his little hiding spot.

A glance in the window had him cursing under his breath as he saw that Mayfeather and a few of the others with him were no longer at their table-had someone seen him?-but a second later he heard loud voices farther around the back, carousing and laughing, and figured they'd gone out by the garbage cans for a smoke. He hesitated, then moved a little closer, moving a little plainer, so it wouldn't seem quite so much like he was skulking-if someone did see him, he would just pretend friendliness, bum a cigarette, say he'd just gotten into town and stopped by for a drink. They wouldn't think anything of it, not 'til later anyway. But no one noticed him.

He leaned up against the wall, far enough away he couldn't hear more than the occasional snatch of conversation, but close enough he could recognize the voices-there were three of them beside Mayfeather; Paul Dufult, Leonard Jones, and Tommy Larson. He scowled at the last voice-he'd always liked Tommy, and had thought he'd have had the sense to avoid getting too close to Mayfeather. The other two were nasty pieces of work, Paul more than Leonard. They were half brothers, and Leonard was so simple he probably wouldn't have been such a brute without Paul encouraging it, but then again who was to say. He certainly had never said no for a chance at violence.

Allen stayed up against the wall, waiting, though he wasn't quite sure what for, and slowly they started to trickle back inside, first the two brothers, and then Tommy, Mayfeather calling after them that he'd be in after he answered nature's call. Allen's heart started to pound in his throat, he hadn't known why he was waiting, but now he did, and almost before the door closed behind Tommy he was moving, pure instinct driving him forward.

It might have been pretty damn dirty to jump a guy with his dick in his hand, but as he body slammed the man from behind, dashing his head against the brick wall, and they both went down, falling sort of sideways, he didn't care, didn't even notice how close he came to slamming them both into the garbage cans and alerting the whole bar. All he knew was that this was the enemy, this was the threat, and it needed to be destroyed. Allen recovered faster than Artie, who was dazed from the blow to his head, and wasted no time in climbing astride the other man, pinning his arms down with the weight of his legs, and then pummeling his face, the muffled sound of fists striking flesh filling the air. Artie began trying to buck Allen off, and when that didn't work, managed to twist and buck towards the wall with enough force that he slammed Allen into it, winding him a bit, but as Mayfeather tried to grab him and roll on top, Allen pulled his head back and slammed it forward into Mayfeather's nose and was rewarded with an audible crunch-and a sharp elbow in his kidney. He grunted a bit, but managed to keep his position, and then slammed Mayfeather back onto the ground, letting himself land heavily atop him. He was just thinking this was easier then he would have expected, when he realized that one of Mayfeather's hands was loose-as it clamped around his neck, and squeezed, harder than a man who was only half conscious should be able too. For a second Allen panicked and grabbed at the man's fist, pulling, and even scratching to try and pry it loose. Then his senses came back, just as things started to go gray, and he savagely grabbed and pinched the pressure point in the man's wrist and with a cry of surprise and disappointment Mayfeather's hand spasmed against his will and Allen was able to pry it loose.

It took one more sharp right hook to knock the man out-and he only hit him three or four times after that. Allen suddenly came back to himself, panting, hands covered in blood, and realized he had to get out of here now if he didn't want to spend the next few years doing a short stretch upriver. He wiped his bloody knuckles on Mayfeather's shirt front and then rose up glancing behind him and then backing up away from the passed out body, turning and making himself just walk and not run, no need to give up the game now, across the deserted back lot and then behind the dumpster where he grabbed his bike and then wheeled it slowly down the back road behind the bar, not starting it until he was a block or two away.

He drifted back out of town the same way he'd come in and pulled over when he was a good ten miles down the freeway, pulling his bike deep into the woods with him. He found a little spot by a creek where he tried to clean himself up, then discovered upon close examination that his t-shirt had blood on it, that unlike his leathers could not be wiped away. That and a few things he decided he probably shouldn't keep now that it could tie him to an assault were added to the small fire he built and sat shivering beside. Finally, hours after he'd got there he felt calm enough to go to sleep and banked the fire, laying down next to it with his head on a bed of pine needles, and his leather coat spread over him to keep out the worst of the chill.

God, he was gonna have a hard time explaining this one...