Present
Travis stood before the Expendable team with crossed arms. He tried to imagine what Billy had thought and felt when he was in their presence. He was amused and rather pleased that they hung out in a tattoo parlor. He was no stranger to ink.
"Guys," Barney was saying. "This is Travis. He's our new recruit."
Travis observed as the team looked him over. There was a Caucasian blonde man (Swedish from the look of him), who was an inch taller than Travis. Then there was an African American man, who was just slightly shorter than Travis. An older Caucasian American with shoulder length silvery/black hair stood off to the side, and finally, a Caucasian American man with a shaved head like Lee's leaning against the post, arms crossed. He was just a bit shorter than Travis too, but not by much. They were all staring at him with about the same expression Barney had when he first saw Travis.
"Hello," he said, bobbing his head. "Nice to meet you all."
"Shit, he even sounds like him," the African American said, staring at Barney.
"Yes, I do," Travis agreed easily, crossing his arms to match the one man's stance.
"You're his brother," the Swede noted.
"I think we're gonna be just fine," Travis said to Barney. "They're very quick."
"Hey, we're standing right here," the shaved headed one said.
"My apologies," Travis said. Barney started pointing them out.
"That there is Gunner Jensen. Hale Caesar is beside him. Then Tool. That's Toll Road."
"All fake names, I presume?" Travis asked. They nodded. "Fair enough. What did you call my brother?"
No one answered right away until Lee cleared his throat.
"Billy the Kid," he told Travis.
"Really? I was sure you were gonna say Billy Goat," Travis chuckled. This caused some laughter between the men too.
"Didn't even think of it," Barney admitted. "Too bad."
"He sure ran fast like one," Toll commented, giving Lee a smirk.
"He had longer legs than me!" Lee insisted, recalling how he'd claimed he could run just as fast, and Barney had pointed out this flaw wouldn't enable him to do it.
"It didn't hurt that he also did track in high school," Travis told them. A collected group of "ahhs" went around the room.
"So what's going on, Barns?" Tool asked.
"You wanna?" Barney asked Travis, who shrugged.
"Doesn't matter to me. It's your team."
"You're the one with the news."
"All right. I'll start then," Travis said, standing straight again. "Jean Vilain is still alive."
"What?!" Caesar exclaimed.
"No way," Toll argued.
"Not possible," Gunner chimed in. Tool was silent, but he stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"The man Barney killed was his twin brother, Claude Vilain. I've been in touch with contacts who have been tracking Jean Vilain for me. He was last seen in Budapest. He's looking to purchase a nuclear weapon."
"I don't believe this," Caesar said, looking at Barney. "He knew what to say to you to goad you..."
"He'd know through his brother," Barney reasoned. "It was a good cover. I'll make his second death even more painful than the first."
"Not if I kill him first," Travis said, and the room went silent for a moment. Clearly, Billy had meant a lot to them, and Travis got some comfort from that. He could see why his brother liked this team.
"I'll show you where you can bunk," Barney offered, and Travis nodded. He picked up his bag and followed the man to the lift. This was going to be his home for the next while until they set out.
He hoped his contact would get in touch soon.
...
Tool was sitting in his chair out back and listening to the night sounds, his pipe in his lips. It wasn't lit. He was thinking about Billy, how he'd first come into their group.
"Is this seat taken?"
Startled, Tool looked to see Billy standing there smiling at him. Then he blinked, and Travis was looking back at him.
"Not at all," he answered finally, clearing his throat. The striking resemblance was throwing him off. Travis sat down and leaned slightly forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers folded. He didn't say anything, and Tool wondered what he was thinking. He wondered how many teams Travis had worked with and if he'd lost anyone. He wondered how he dealt with that gaping hole of loss inside of him each and every single day knowing his brother was dead. He noticed Travis was wearing a grey t-shirt and the bottom of a tattoo was sticking out under his right sleeve. Tool could see what looked like some sort of feet of an animal with "Grace" and "2001" under it. Travis caught him looking.
"You look like a man who has seen a lot," he noted, making Tool smile.
"That I have," he agreed. You have no idea, kid.
"Billy mentioned you," Travis went on, leaning back into the chair and moving his folded hands to rest behind his head. "He said you were the artist of the group."
"Well, my current medium is ink, not bullets," Tool chuckled. "They used to be, though."
"Bullets are art?"
"Using them can be, but they always leave red behind, which gets a bit boring," Tool noted, making Travis snort in a laugh.
"I know what you mean," he said. "Sometimes I think black should come out in some people."
"Mmhmm," Tool said with a slow nod. He tapped his pipe lightly against the arm of his chair. They sat quietly for a moment until Travis sighed and shifted in his chair. His arms were resting on the arms of the chair now.
"It was my job to keep him safe," he said, "and I failed him."
"No," Tool said instantly. "Now you're starting to think like Barney. None of you had any control over what happened."
"I promised her," Travis insisted, looking at Tool now. "I promised her I'd keep him safe, and I promised him I'd always have his back."
"Grace?" Tool asked knowingly. Travis swallowed.
"Yea."
"Who was she?"
Travis didn't answer, and Tool figured he had pushed the boundary of "get to know you" a bit far. A muscle in Travis's jaw twitched as his eyes darted around, searching the darkness.
"Our mother," Travis answered finally. Tool felt his heart break for the kid (anyone younger than 35 he considered a kid). Tool had lost his parents a long time ago, but sometimes the wound was fresh, depending on what triggered it to open back up.
"What was she like?" he asked. He'd learned a long time ago to not say sorry for a loss. People didn't know what to do with it, and it implied it was somehow his fault they were gone, which it wasn't. It was better to ask if they wanted to talk about it or if they wanted to be distracted from it. Or, in this case, just ask a question about the person to show you cared and were interested.
"She had a fragile soul," Travis answered a bit absently. "I'm just glad she wasn't around to know Billy died."
"Your father?"
In the low lighting, Tool saw a shadow cross over Travis's face briefly.
"He left us," Travis answered slowly.
"Before or after your mother died?"
"Before."
Tool was thoughtful. That explained why Billy was so taken with Barney and the team. He'd been looking for a father figure again. He kept watching Travis until he got to his feet.
"I'm grateful," he said to Tool, "that Billy found you guys and you took him under your wing. He struggled a lot after coming home from war, and I was still off playing hero, so I wasn't there for him like I should have been. So, thank you."
"I only wish we could have done more," Tool said, "and don't do that to yourself. You didn't know, and Billy found his way with managing everything in the end. He was leaving us to be with his girl; he'd made the right choice to have a life."
Travis didn't say anything else, just gave a curt nod and walked back inside. Tool stared out into the darkness, thinking.
...
Travis stared at himself in the mirror. The elephant tattoo on his right bicep stared back at him. He clenched and unclenched his jaw slowly. He didn't like thinking about his mother. It was yet another person he'd failed, even though there was really nothing he could have done. He pulled his black t-shirt over his heat and gathered up his toothbrush, toothpaste, and razor. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. He found Toll in the hallway, waiting.
"Sorry, mate," Travis said with a bit of a smile.
"No worries," Toll replied.
"Something on your mind?"
"I'm sorry we couldn't bring his body home," Toll said slowly. "That's something that has always bothered me."
"It's all right," Travis said. "We moved around a lot while growing up, so there wasn't really one place we designated as home."
"I get that," Toll agreed.
"I hope you don't mind that I'm taking lead on this," Travis went on.
"Not at all. If it was my brother, I'd want to too," Toll said. He reached out his hand, and Travis shook it. They shared a tight smile before Travis went to his room and Toll went into the bathroom. Travis sank down onto the mattress and read his texts from Carmen. She'd updated him on Ava's day and hers. He smiled. He missed them already. He set his phone on the nightstand and moved to lay under the sheets. He tucked his left arm under the pillow, his wrist poking out. He looked at it. Tool hadn't seen it in the dark, and because it was on the inside of his wrist, not many spotted it unless they were looking carefully.
Jules 1995. A diamond was next to it.
He swallowed before turning his head away. He could still hear her voice laughing, "I'm somebody's jewels, Travis! Somebody's diamond jewels!" He ached with missing her. He forced his attention to shift from her to his brother. He could feel Billy's name and death year above an arrow wrapped in a vine through it burning on the back of his left leg on his calf just above his scar. Carmen joked about where he'd put her name and death year on his body, but he never saw the humor in it. They were reminders of people who were important to him. Where they were placed on his body was meaningful and with purpose. When Carmen had really pressed, he caved and told her he'd probably put hers across his heart. She didn't dare ask what animal or object he'd put with it or where he'd put Ava's if, God forbid, something happened, and he was glad for that. He wanted his daughter to outlive him.
He did his best not to see his mother's face or Billy's when he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
...
"What are you thinking?" Lee asked. Barney gave a grunt in response, his cigar clamped in his teeth as he sat on his bike and stared out at the water. He and Lee had gone for a ride fairly late. Barney needed to clear his head.
"That's not an answer," Lee pointed out.
"Nothing," Barney said. "I'm thinking nothing."
"You can never think nothing," Lee indicated. "Your brain is always thinking of something. Even when you're trying to think nothing, your brain is thinking about how to think of nothing."
"Shut up," Barney ordered. "You're giving me a headache."
"It's unsettling," Lee went on, ignoring him. "This whole situation is unsettling, and I know you feel it too."
"I killed him," Barney blurted out angrily. "I looked him in the eye, and I killed him."
"Let's not forget the cutting off of his head," Lee reminded him.
"Maggie helped with that," Barney said indifferently. "But how could it not have been him?! I am truly confused."
"Until I see some photographs, I'm not 100% buying it," Lee commented. "Maybe this guy is really here to take us out because he thinks we're the ones really responsible for his brother's death?"
"Pfft, you've seen too many spy movies," Barney scoffed. "I believe him, and I wanna help him."
Lee said nothing as he shifted and watched the waves crashing on the shoreline. He was still feeling a bit bitter from his not-so-long-ago break up from Lacy. He hated that Barney had been right about her. He thought Barney chucking his phone out of the moving plane had been a bit dramatic, though. Apparently, he couldn't take the sound of Lacy's ringtone any longer, and since they'd been in the middle of a text war, it had been going off a lot. One minute Lee had been texting, and the next, Barney had yanked it from his hand and tossed it out the window without so much as batting an eyelash. Lee had sat there, hand still in front of him, shocked. Then he had let Toll sit up there with him before he had throttled Barney with his bare hands.
"I might call Maggie," Barney said absently. This had Lee's attention. After Sandra, Barney had kept to himself a lot. Then Maggie had come along, and Lee knew something transpired between them. Whether they acted on it or not, Lee didn't know. He wasn't the only one who saw it. The others had too.
"Really," Lee said in a suggestive tone.
"Not like that," Barney shot back at him.
"I didn't say anything..."
"Your tone implied it."
"I can't help my tone."
"We're done here," Barney said, putting his helmet on over his head before cranking his bike to life. Lee made a face as he followed suit, knowing he'd hit a nerve. Then they roared off one after the other until they went their separate ways for the night.