The Aftermath.
Opening Thoughts - Hey, like always I hope you're enjoying it and from this chapter forth I won't really discuss the story line. Figured I was ruining it for y'all. I will say that this chapter had some profanity, you know a little bit a soap mouthed cussin' so be warned! And enjoy!
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Perhaps the very fact that the captivity of being in jail wasn't ever a new feeling unsettled Miguel that pervious night as he lay down on the brick hard bed. His hands enfolded at the back of his head, as he watched the small crack of sun creep through the cell, and he thought of her.
It was a cold welcome, he received from the other cellmates that filled the long dungy hallway. Eyes and voices that showed him the unsurprised expressions . It was never a look of pity, nor disgust of his deeds… it was an troubling reverence, the very same praise he despised it was only a bitter remembrance of all that he had lost his first time in jail and was about to loose in the second.
As the sound of the corroded jail cell opening Miguel rose from a restless slumber looking towards the figure in the cell way. In a listless manner he slid away from the cot, standing on solid ground as his glances averted to the small window above him. He had absolutely no intentions of talking with anyone, to make any of the matters worse than they ever were, especially if that meant his brother.
Noticing the familiar act, Luis took the gesture as leeway to move in forward to enter the room. His hands were full with penitentiary belongings for a moment before he threw them towards a unsystematic spot . As if the person turned across from him had no personal connections he turned to leave before his voice of reason stopped him abruptly, reminding him that Miguel was his little brother and past his anger somewhere he was hurt. Hurt to see someone with such promise, as his very own brother throw it all away for the glamour's of fast money and crime.
"They asked me," Luis paused his eyes like Miguel searing for the words, that had taken so long to be spoken. "How it felt to arrest my own brother for murder -" He stopped once more walking closer in to the cell once more, a wry smile crossing thin lips. " I should have been hurt, angry … sad. But you know what I felt instead?"
Luis waited quietly in the space between them, to only be returned nothing. " I felt nothing, Miguel. Absolutely fucking nothing," He thundered, lightly before shakily bringing his hands to his hair the very noise of their silence driving him insane within the second. It sickened Luis to know that he felt he had no brother, it hurt him more to allow himself to think that he had no family , but a suborned pride nagged at him telling him that he no longer needed them. It was the same honour that had kept the Lopez- Fitzgerald apart for years, new money and possessions seemed to always have that effect. He accepted Miguel's resilience, as he continued. " Why'd you do it Miguel? Why in the hell did you kill Patrick because I've been trying to rack this out in my mind and…"
"Why do you care?" Miguel spoke bleakly his back still turned to the dark haired man. "You've spent the last few years pretending I hadn't even existed, and now that I'm threatening our name you pop back up again to play the dotting big brother," He glared a laugh becoming of his expressions . " Please save me the act. Be my guest go outside and give it to all the reporters waiting for a good story, better yet go solve another crime if that is what you do in this God damned department," He muttered dejectedly turning his back once more.
That was all Luis could take of Miguel at the last movement and as quickly as he turned just as soon Luis turned his younger brother around his eyes firing an anger taken to its limits. "You selfish son of a bitch, do you have any idea what this is doing to us?"
"Us?" Miguel repeated in an echo, contemplatively. "Us. Luis, there is no us! Read a newspaper, for once in your sad life we aren't a family any more. Much to your content I'm sure,"
His content? Luis wasn't the one who ruined their family, Miguel was. His rage overtook him as he briskly backed Miguel up against the brick wall his hands closing themselves in on his brother's neck to make sure he listened to each word. "You're killing our mother. No matter what we've been going through the past few years, our mother still concerns us. Do you think she likes to hear about all this? In fact the first time, she was sent to hospital for months on end."
Miguel jolted back in reflex as he pushed Luis away his eyes fixed in a darkened murderous glint, as he approached Luis who now had been inches from falling. " I wasn't the only one Luis! God you stand here blaming me for everything well let me enlighten you some: Theresa's somewhere across the country most likely chasing after a man that will never love her, while her son's still here not even knowing who his own mother is. Antonio wants nothing to do with Momma let alone this family, because you both thought this family was quite insignificant in comparison of getting into a Crane's pants -"
"Don't you dare talk about Sheridan that way!" Luis warned his finger raised in Miguel's direction.
"Fine. Well if all that won't make Momma sick to her stomach think about how you completely ignore your own son just because it isn't Sheridan's. I guess you and Theresa decided to take a page from our father's book, make 'em and ditch 'em. "
"Beth and I agreed that I wasn't the best for Little Martin," Luis defended snidely. " It doesn't even measure up to everything you've done by a long shot!" He concluded ignoring the truth about their father.
"But it comes pretty damn close, right?" Miguel tested. Luis' moth opened halfly to the comment as he edged the anger of him taking an ultimate level as he was now prepared to let it control his very presence. " Yes. Luis, I was a con! I stole for anyone and everyone I could but you know what? I did it for the family not for my own selfish reasons like all of you did. So don't even, blame all your bullshit on me."
The heated conversations was a instant of continuation before Pilar Lopez - Fitzgerald walked in, slamming the cell door behind her. Lividly the matriarch watched both of her sons while crossing her arms across her chest, "Would you two look at yourselves. Fighting at the worst possible time."
"Momma…" Luis trailed before the woman rose a quick hand in protest.
"I don't want to here it! From either of you," She thundered while her glare past from Miguel to Luis, as she circled the room in thought. " I'm not going to let anyone get the satisfaction of ruining our family this way, not anymore." Pilar couldn't. Yes, she'd gone through all the motions of what a son in trouble does to a mother and yes she feared for her little boy deeply , yet as much as she did she knew she couldn't fall apart like she'd done before. Asking herself what she'd done wrong when it was her children not her. Pilar knew know she had to be strong not only for herself but for her family in wreckage, she'd watched them fall apart for too long and she wasn't about to sit down and let her family die this easily.
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Finally Maria Lopez managed to lift herself out of the thick fleet of news reporters that had raided L.F Industries. She walked down Harmonies main streets with a sense of affliction, as her thoughts were stuck onto her youngest nephew. She had to admit she knew her Miguel to have become many things as he grew into a man, but a killer?
By the following morning of his arrest everyone across the country just as well as Maine, had seen the video sent in by an anonymous bystander. Clear as day, it showcases Miguel shooting Patrick O'Riley in cold blood. It almost felt surreal to her as she watched the scene play through her eyes over and over again, but it was all true.
Martin walked down the same streets his hands clenching a tabloid, that spoke of his son's present arrest. He'd just landed in town with Damien Winters, who'd gone off around town to tend to his own manners, to find out about his son and family through each news station and news he crossed. When he had set foot in town Martin had set out to reunite with his family, the impossible task considering why he'd left but he soon realized there would be more to do than just that.
"Don't do it, Martin." Maria's forewarning voice chimed into his thoughts.
Maria. It had been years, "Do what?" His eyebrow arched in question, Martin's voice acting as if the woman standing across from him, and himself had no past.
Maria sighed in frustration before looking the man up and down. "If you come back into their lives again, you'll be making everything worse than it should be right now. So don't do it, leave my sister and her family alone."
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Douglas paced back and forth, as Miguel entered the room. Their eyes met briefly in a sorted greeting before Doug tore the glance apart, getting back to his previous actions.
Miguel on other hand let his friend's fit of never elude him as he tossed a deck of cards back and forth in his hands. Back and forth he tossed them the sound of them shredding against each other battling with the noise of Douglas' black shoes cackling against the linoleum floor.
Shred…
Clack…
Shred…
"Damnit Miguel! Would you stop that? We have better things to discuss than a pack of fucking cards." He sighed wearily as he stopped in front of him.
"I should tell you the same." Miguel countered sliding the deck aside as he focused on Doug once more. "So, what's the verdict?" He questioned no piece of common hope in his voice as he knew there was none.
Douglas grimaced slightly at the sound, as he turned away from Miguel. Clenching his hands in tension, as his back faced him.
"Douglas, please. I need to know," His voice pleaded somewhat.
He sighed deeply before turning around once more, to Miguel. He knew he'd promised Pilar, that he'd take care of her son but the request no longer seemed to possible, at this point nothing could really save Miguel from his transgressions. "It doesn't look good - Miguel."
Surprisingly a wry smiled lay fixed on Miguel's visage, as he responded. " I kind of guessed that, Doug. That's not why I called you here."
"It's not?"
"No. It's not. Look, I know what I'm facing - and I know I'm going to be in here for a very long time," Miguel confided in low tone, as he looked at the desk fro a moment. "I just want to make sure that while I'm here everything being taken care of." Miguel soon placed a folder on the desk.
Douglas took a last look at the man, before taking the object that had slid closer to his stance. He eyed the contents before looking at him once more. "Miguel, these … these are the deeds to the club."
"Yeah - I put them in your name." Miguel declare earnestly.
Doug looked at him once more, in utter disbelief as he quickly looked at his name written in ownership. "My name," Douglas stated in a voice barely audible., with a clear of his throat breaking a silence he slid the folder back to Miguel. " I can't except this. I mean I won't."
Miguel rose a brow at the decline, as he took the papers back in arms waiting for a continuance.
" Miguel, I can't take the club. You've dreamed of having it every since we were kids don't you remember?" Douglas questioned a certain glow in his eyes when speaking of reminiscing.
"I do." But there was no hope for it anymore, he'd lost. "But that was then, this is now. I want you to take care of all my business, keep an eye on Paloma and Mama, for me." Douglas didn't answer, he lips remained pursed in stubborn silence. "Douglas," He sighed as his eyes shut .
"Fine …sure, I'll do it." He replied with a brush of his hands through his hair. His eyebrow arched in curiosity with Miguel's keenness to leave out one woman. "What about Charity?"
Her name repeated in Miguel's mind for quite awhile before he responded. His mouth opened partially as a means of an answer as he closed it once again. What about Charity? His thoughts questioned, he wanted to pretend that the simplest gesture could make this alright with her in his eyes but it couldn't. In all truths, he really didn't have an answer to the question. Instead, Miguel stood giving a resounding thoughtful nod to Doug before turning he made it all the way to the door, pausing as he hit the buzzer.
"Miguel, wait!" He called, as Miguel turned to the request. "I need to know before you leave," Doug said as he looked at Miguel.
He awaited his hands in his jumpsuit pockets, as he rose a brow.
"Did you kill, Patrick?"
Miguel remained closemouthed for a moment, as the police officers came. He looked at his friend profoundly for that brief moment before turning to leave.
Nothing, No answer to both of his questions and the more the conversation settled in the more Douglas wondered, the more he worried. He watched his friend's figure disappear farther and farther away from his sight, as he soon felt the need to sit. This couldn't be happening, how could everything move so fast so soon? Why did it have to be in the worst ways.
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Come on Charity…pick up tell me you're okay. Bianca.
The other familiar voice lead to another painful series of ringing as she laid quietly on her bathroom floor. She was crying again, the little girl. She wouldn't stop, her small shaped eyes were now red with tears her light blond locks tussled in front other eyes as she laid in the very same corner Charity did.
Crossways, she sat. Looking at Charity, as she averted the glance quickly biting her small rose lit to stop her tears from falling freely form her softly formed round cheeks. She wanted to be as strong , and brave as her for the moment but she couldn't. She was scared. Alone… She hated the feeling of fear become of her, she hated not having anyone around top assure her that things were going to be okay. Why did she always have to be alone? Why did everyone in her life insist on leaving her?! Maybe she was never worth it…
Charity, it's me Kay. I know this seems irrelevant but forget about everything that I said about him, it doesn't matter anymore! I don't care, just as long as I know you're alright. Please call me or at least pick up, we can do whatever you want cry, scream, anything! Just call…
Perhaps on better days she might have comforted the child's small helpless stature. Comforting in any ways she could, but she didn't want to anymore, somehow she no longer cared about the little one. No one ever really did care about her to begin with. She was just there, a word of reference that everyone would call too just for observation never for any true feeling or love. She'd expressed the emotion, and in odd numbers certain faces from a young memory would return it but to her it was just a word, one that told her she actually belonged nothing more nothing less.
She'd seen love once. She believed that was how it was supposed to be, a feeling only meant for tears, and sadness. She'd seen love in the eyes of her mother, once. She'd seen the fresh gloss arise in her eyes as they watched her father leave without a word. She knew then and there, love was supposed to be that way. Why shouldn't it have been.
And one day, when she was old enough tall or pretty enough even. She met him. She always knew who he was, she'd seen him grow beside her. He was the lucky one, he was wanted. And somehow, within the short time the higher powers had given them he seemed to make her feel the same feeling of belonging . She loved him, in a love she never though could ever exist. And then in a brief second like everyone else in her life he had disappeared leaving avoid that she needed to be filled , one she'd always live to regret.
Charity's eyes locked with the child once more, both caught in a gaze. The very same little girl cried for her, she shed tears that Charity couldn't any longer. Each one shed was one that Charity didn't know how to express, one she no longer found reason to shed for herself or anyone. There was no room for them in Charity's life, so perchance she could say she never learned how to truly cry, to let herself and the rest that encircled her feel her true emotions. She saw no point for tears, when they did nothing for her.
Charity. A voice called with silent pleading, as Charity cocked her head upwards from her previous state. Her eyes searched across from her as the little girl faded from sight, and her eyes searched the room everything inside her reluctantly wanting to here the voice once more. Look I know the last thing you want to do is talk to me right now, but we need to talk, Miguel.
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Closing Thoughts - I hope you enjoyed that one, here's hoping it didn't depress you too bad. And when you review this please tell me what's up. Do you like all the description? Do you hate it. Need more dialogue? Is there anything you'd like to see? Is there something you're not seeing? Anything you'd like to happen? This story is as much mine as it is yours 'cause y'all know it wouldn't be here without your reviews. Thank You. Latz.
