A/N: This takes place after Danny's tragic death. I hope you guys enjoy
this!
Disclaimer: I own nothing of any value. Honestly. Wish I did, but those Hollywood jerks do. Grrr.
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Murray was the first one to visit me. I'd been in the bedroom for the past two days. Mom brought hot lemon water in to me every two hours. Davina slept in the living room and wouldn't stop crying. She had always been the unique one in the family - even with her crying. It wasn't quiet but wasn't loud either. It was the kind that faintly caught your attention, like the buzzing of a bee past your ear, and then disappeared. You tried to catch the sound again, thinking you had made it up but deep down knew that what you heard was real.
I'd huddled under a blanket in the bed, two arms behind my head staring at the ceiling, thinking: it means nothing. It's bullshit. All of it.
All of it, bullshit!
My hands grazed the top of my head, the thick brown hair that had remained uncut for three years.
"That do's gotta go."
Danny.
Everything eventually led back to Danny. But at the same time, everything led back to me. Me. My fault, my beliefs, my gun, my swastika tattoo and my vulnerability towards Cameron. The guilt enveloped me like Ma's cigarette smoke, choking me and blackening my lungs. All my racist propaganda, my fear, my anger. The D.O.C. was probably planning something massive against the kid who had done this. Cameron would want my head on a platter and at the same time, beat me down with a rowdy redneck chorus of "nah-na-na-nah-nah's", telling me he told me so, that he was right all along.
Presently, I couldn't feel fear at the looming threat. I was hollow, totally fucking numb. I couldn't bring myself to revisit that day, in the bathroom, pushing past Sweeney and bursting through the door.
I remember having a very powerful memory while I sat there, holding Danny's limp body. It was of when I had first come home. Mom, Devina and Ally were all sitting in the living room, rapidly talking about how they had missed me so much, how I looked great, how Mom was cutting down on cigarettes and how Davina was acing all her classes. We all became enveloped in a bear hug together and right at that moment, Danny burst through the front door, looking at me, like I'd never left. Like I had never been gone for the past three years.
Danny, bursting through the front door.
Me, bursting through the bathroom door.
Why did Murray of all people visit me? He poked his head through the bedroom door, almost unrecognizable. There were far more gray streaks in his hair since the last time I saw him and he wasn't wearing his traditional suit. Instead, he was clad in a purple jogging suit. Un- fucking-believable.
I barely moved from my position lying down as he shut the door and sat on the foot of the other bed, but my mind was racing with all the nasty things I had said to him back then at the dinner table.
He looked straight at me, folding his hands in his lap. I heard the front door open and the flick of a lighter. Mom was outside. I opened my mouth to tell Murray to fuck off, when he got past me.
"Your mother called me yesterday," he said. His voice was raspier than last time I'd talked to him. Talked? Not really. "She told me everything." I moved my head a fraction of an inch to the right, peering at him. He stared right back at me, hands still folded. He's got some balls, this one.
I didn't say anything; just stared at him in blank recognition.
"I offered to help with any arrangements you might need - well, assistance with, over the next little while." Yeah, like what? I thought. A funeral? Who would come? Seth? Cameron? Sweeney?
"How can you sit there?" I choked out. "How in God's name can you sit there while you remember all the things I said to you? How do you do that?"
Murray just looked at me for a minute; then shrugged. "You need to get out of bed, Derek. You look horrible."
Thanks buddy.
"Do you know how dangerous it is for me to be outside right now?" I said, staring back at the ceiling. "It was all wrong."
I faintly heard Mom come back inside, closing the door behind her.
"Well, aren't you being modest," Murray scoffed.
"Fuck you!" I yelled, sitting up with a jerk. "Who do you think you are." but I suddenly stopped. Put my head in my hands and shook. I promised myself I wouldn't do this again. I wasn't gonna ever treat Murray like that again. He continued to stare at his lap.
"I'm glad you got out of prison, Derek. I'm glad because your family needs you. Your mother needs you." I rolled over, facing the wall. A single tear squeezed out of my eye, but the numb feeling still remained.
"It was all wrong," I repeated. "All of it." I clenched my fists around the bed sheets. "Why did it have to be him? There was no reason - none at all!"
"Murray shifted on the bed behind me. "Don't question these things," he muttered. "It's not up to you to decide what's right and what's wrong."
"I used to think so." What a bastard.
"Well, ultimately Derek we never have and never will have that power. Especially you."
I thumped my fist on the mattress. "You think I'm defending everything I did?"
"Yes."
My throat constricted. What the hell?
"No, I'm not," I mumbled.
"I think you are. Well, a bit anyways," he said, without hesitation. "I also believe that you are deeply sorry for what you did but of course, naturally, you'll be in defense of - not really your actions but in defense of you, yourself."
I said nothing. This philosopher shit he was pulling was not what I needed right now. What I wanted was Seth to burst through that door and put a bullet in my skull.
"You think I'm right?" he asked, but it was more along the lines of a statement. I wasn't going to dare reply.
There was muttering outside the bedroom, and a sudden thump on the door that made both me and Murray peer warily over at it. Angry whispers came from Davina and Mom.
"Maybe I'd better go," muttered Murray.
"Maybe you'd better go," I mimicked. The bed sheets crinkled as he raised himself up and the floorboards creaked as he headed towards the door. As he pulled it open, there was a sudden outburst from Davina. I looked over, caught a glimpse of Davina's guilty face and hearing Mom light another cigarette.
"You could have just knocked," Murray addressed her.
"Hi Murray," she mumbled. She looked over at me and I bit my lip. Murray took this opportunity to slip out of the door. Davina tried to scurry after him but I motioned for her to come in.
She slowly walked into the room, shutting the door behind her and standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was stringy. I sat up, slowly loking at her, trying to read her thoughts.
What are you thinking about me?
That look she had given me when she first poked her head through the door, was one that I hadn't seen in a while. It was like she was afraid of me again. She thought I would fuck up again and go out, flipping a gun around my finger, scouring the boardwalk until I found that kid who did what he did to Danny.
"What are you thinking, Dav?" I asked. She looked at the floor. "I know you were listening but I'm not mad."
The words 'I'm not mad' seemed to give her a bit of reassurance and she looked up at me. I tried to form what I was thinking into words. All I could muster was a "Come here" and she came, sitting down beside me on the bed, and suddenly I was hugging her. She didn't want to cry anymore, yet she was still trembling with anger and fear. I didn't want her to e afraid of me. I didn't want anyone to.
"What if Seth comes here?" she asked, pulling back and looking at me.
I hadn't expected that. "He won't."
"Aw, that's bullshit Derek! He's not going to ignore you, if you want something more definite."
"I don't wanna think about Seth right now," I groaned, rubbing my eyes in frustration. But I had been, and that inviting gun he was always toting, just minutes ago.
"You shouldn't stay here," Davina said. "We're all in danger."
I looked at her in shock. "Why would you even think that?" I exclaimed. "I will not let anything bad happen to you," I reassured her, squeezing her hand. "You hear me?"
She peered back at me, with this overwhelming tiredness in her eyes. "Why is it that I once almost killed you?" she asked suddenly. "God, I wanted to pound your fucking brains out with that baseball bat."
I held my breath for a minute. "I would have, too," she insisted, and then let out a small laugh.
I smiled. "Nah, you wouldn't have had the guts."
"Oh, I so would have," she scoffed, ruffling my hair. "I could kick your ass anyday."
"Like hell," I shot back and we sat there then, silent - united by the threat of my death from my baby sister. And then I hugged her again, committing everything we had said to one another to memory.
What if all I had left were memories later on?
Disclaimer: I own nothing of any value. Honestly. Wish I did, but those Hollywood jerks do. Grrr.
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Murray was the first one to visit me. I'd been in the bedroom for the past two days. Mom brought hot lemon water in to me every two hours. Davina slept in the living room and wouldn't stop crying. She had always been the unique one in the family - even with her crying. It wasn't quiet but wasn't loud either. It was the kind that faintly caught your attention, like the buzzing of a bee past your ear, and then disappeared. You tried to catch the sound again, thinking you had made it up but deep down knew that what you heard was real.
I'd huddled under a blanket in the bed, two arms behind my head staring at the ceiling, thinking: it means nothing. It's bullshit. All of it.
All of it, bullshit!
My hands grazed the top of my head, the thick brown hair that had remained uncut for three years.
"That do's gotta go."
Danny.
Everything eventually led back to Danny. But at the same time, everything led back to me. Me. My fault, my beliefs, my gun, my swastika tattoo and my vulnerability towards Cameron. The guilt enveloped me like Ma's cigarette smoke, choking me and blackening my lungs. All my racist propaganda, my fear, my anger. The D.O.C. was probably planning something massive against the kid who had done this. Cameron would want my head on a platter and at the same time, beat me down with a rowdy redneck chorus of "nah-na-na-nah-nah's", telling me he told me so, that he was right all along.
Presently, I couldn't feel fear at the looming threat. I was hollow, totally fucking numb. I couldn't bring myself to revisit that day, in the bathroom, pushing past Sweeney and bursting through the door.
I remember having a very powerful memory while I sat there, holding Danny's limp body. It was of when I had first come home. Mom, Devina and Ally were all sitting in the living room, rapidly talking about how they had missed me so much, how I looked great, how Mom was cutting down on cigarettes and how Davina was acing all her classes. We all became enveloped in a bear hug together and right at that moment, Danny burst through the front door, looking at me, like I'd never left. Like I had never been gone for the past three years.
Danny, bursting through the front door.
Me, bursting through the bathroom door.
Why did Murray of all people visit me? He poked his head through the bedroom door, almost unrecognizable. There were far more gray streaks in his hair since the last time I saw him and he wasn't wearing his traditional suit. Instead, he was clad in a purple jogging suit. Un- fucking-believable.
I barely moved from my position lying down as he shut the door and sat on the foot of the other bed, but my mind was racing with all the nasty things I had said to him back then at the dinner table.
He looked straight at me, folding his hands in his lap. I heard the front door open and the flick of a lighter. Mom was outside. I opened my mouth to tell Murray to fuck off, when he got past me.
"Your mother called me yesterday," he said. His voice was raspier than last time I'd talked to him. Talked? Not really. "She told me everything." I moved my head a fraction of an inch to the right, peering at him. He stared right back at me, hands still folded. He's got some balls, this one.
I didn't say anything; just stared at him in blank recognition.
"I offered to help with any arrangements you might need - well, assistance with, over the next little while." Yeah, like what? I thought. A funeral? Who would come? Seth? Cameron? Sweeney?
"How can you sit there?" I choked out. "How in God's name can you sit there while you remember all the things I said to you? How do you do that?"
Murray just looked at me for a minute; then shrugged. "You need to get out of bed, Derek. You look horrible."
Thanks buddy.
"Do you know how dangerous it is for me to be outside right now?" I said, staring back at the ceiling. "It was all wrong."
I faintly heard Mom come back inside, closing the door behind her.
"Well, aren't you being modest," Murray scoffed.
"Fuck you!" I yelled, sitting up with a jerk. "Who do you think you are." but I suddenly stopped. Put my head in my hands and shook. I promised myself I wouldn't do this again. I wasn't gonna ever treat Murray like that again. He continued to stare at his lap.
"I'm glad you got out of prison, Derek. I'm glad because your family needs you. Your mother needs you." I rolled over, facing the wall. A single tear squeezed out of my eye, but the numb feeling still remained.
"It was all wrong," I repeated. "All of it." I clenched my fists around the bed sheets. "Why did it have to be him? There was no reason - none at all!"
"Murray shifted on the bed behind me. "Don't question these things," he muttered. "It's not up to you to decide what's right and what's wrong."
"I used to think so." What a bastard.
"Well, ultimately Derek we never have and never will have that power. Especially you."
I thumped my fist on the mattress. "You think I'm defending everything I did?"
"Yes."
My throat constricted. What the hell?
"No, I'm not," I mumbled.
"I think you are. Well, a bit anyways," he said, without hesitation. "I also believe that you are deeply sorry for what you did but of course, naturally, you'll be in defense of - not really your actions but in defense of you, yourself."
I said nothing. This philosopher shit he was pulling was not what I needed right now. What I wanted was Seth to burst through that door and put a bullet in my skull.
"You think I'm right?" he asked, but it was more along the lines of a statement. I wasn't going to dare reply.
There was muttering outside the bedroom, and a sudden thump on the door that made both me and Murray peer warily over at it. Angry whispers came from Davina and Mom.
"Maybe I'd better go," muttered Murray.
"Maybe you'd better go," I mimicked. The bed sheets crinkled as he raised himself up and the floorboards creaked as he headed towards the door. As he pulled it open, there was a sudden outburst from Davina. I looked over, caught a glimpse of Davina's guilty face and hearing Mom light another cigarette.
"You could have just knocked," Murray addressed her.
"Hi Murray," she mumbled. She looked over at me and I bit my lip. Murray took this opportunity to slip out of the door. Davina tried to scurry after him but I motioned for her to come in.
She slowly walked into the room, shutting the door behind her and standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me. Her eyes were puffy and her hair was stringy. I sat up, slowly loking at her, trying to read her thoughts.
What are you thinking about me?
That look she had given me when she first poked her head through the door, was one that I hadn't seen in a while. It was like she was afraid of me again. She thought I would fuck up again and go out, flipping a gun around my finger, scouring the boardwalk until I found that kid who did what he did to Danny.
"What are you thinking, Dav?" I asked. She looked at the floor. "I know you were listening but I'm not mad."
The words 'I'm not mad' seemed to give her a bit of reassurance and she looked up at me. I tried to form what I was thinking into words. All I could muster was a "Come here" and she came, sitting down beside me on the bed, and suddenly I was hugging her. She didn't want to cry anymore, yet she was still trembling with anger and fear. I didn't want her to e afraid of me. I didn't want anyone to.
"What if Seth comes here?" she asked, pulling back and looking at me.
I hadn't expected that. "He won't."
"Aw, that's bullshit Derek! He's not going to ignore you, if you want something more definite."
"I don't wanna think about Seth right now," I groaned, rubbing my eyes in frustration. But I had been, and that inviting gun he was always toting, just minutes ago.
"You shouldn't stay here," Davina said. "We're all in danger."
I looked at her in shock. "Why would you even think that?" I exclaimed. "I will not let anything bad happen to you," I reassured her, squeezing her hand. "You hear me?"
She peered back at me, with this overwhelming tiredness in her eyes. "Why is it that I once almost killed you?" she asked suddenly. "God, I wanted to pound your fucking brains out with that baseball bat."
I held my breath for a minute. "I would have, too," she insisted, and then let out a small laugh.
I smiled. "Nah, you wouldn't have had the guts."
"Oh, I so would have," she scoffed, ruffling my hair. "I could kick your ass anyday."
"Like hell," I shot back and we sat there then, silent - united by the threat of my death from my baby sister. And then I hugged her again, committing everything we had said to one another to memory.
What if all I had left were memories later on?
