Someone once told her that for every ending there was a new beginning. She hadn't realized quite what that meant, just thought it was a pretty piece of bullshit one spouted in order to look intellectual. At least that is what she believed, until her own life proved the saying true. Felix's funeral had signified the end of a lot of things. The end of his life, the end of unity within the PCH Bike Club, the end of Weevil's reign as leader, but it also marked the beginning of something.
Strella looked around at the faces of the other mourners. The funeral had been held outdoors, on what was an obscenely perfect Southern California day. Every one encircled the casket and the grave. She caught a glimpse of her brother's face, blank and reptilian, and quickly looked else where. It made her wonder how he could seem so detached, so calm and disinterested, when it was his compañero being buried. Granted he and Felix had never been the closest of friends, but Felix had always been loyal and steadfast in his devotion to the PCHers. But then again her hermano's dislike of Felix, simply because of his position as Eli's second, probably hadn't wavered even now. It was like his hatred for Eli, for being Numero Uno. It was the cornerstone of his personality, his insecurity, and his anger. Weevil had always been golden, while her brother always seemed to come in second place. It had been that way since they were little kids.
A leopard can't change its spots and a zebra can't change its stripes. I guess a snake can shed his skin but he can't change the pattern of it.
Then she caught a glimpse of Eli's face and her heart crumpled like a paper ball set ablaze. The raw pain, rage and grief distorting his handsome features made his face look like some bizarre mask. Unable to look away, she watched the corner of his lower lip dimple inward, and she knew, exactly, what caused it. He always did that when he was struggling to control himself or his emotions. He would bite the inside of his cheek right next to the corner of his mouth. It was a strategic spot, not many people would notice the shifting of his lips and teeth. Though his actions were subtle, the force he applied was not, she had seen him bite down hard enough to draw blood before. Waiting until he was alone, or it was just her around, to spit out the blood that had gathered in his mouth.
"Why do you do that?"
"What can I say, I'm a bad ass. I'm such a bad ass I like the taste of my own blood."
"Your ten years old, ELI. Hit puberty first and then maybe you can say that without it being so fucking funny."
"Hey shut your mouth. You shouldn't be saying shit like that, your nueve. You want me to wash your mouth out with soap?"
"You talk like that so why can't I?"
"Because I'm a-''
"I KNOW you're a bad ass. Whatever."
"For real though?"
"Yeah, for real."
"Because you have to be in control Brown-Eyes, even when you're not. The pain allows me to get back in control of myself, my thoughts, my feelings. Without letting them know anything. Some one sees that you don't got it together, than they're gonna use that against you."
"I get it."
"Now me and you didn't have this conversation, comprende?"
"¡Claro!"
She can tell it worked when she watches his face smooth out into an expression that is a little more controlled. His look is grieving but no so emotional, his cover of tattooed-don't-fuck-with-me-cholo-gang-leader once again in place. And she is proud of him, for that remarkable display of control. She wouldn't want for anyone else to see the weakness she did. If it was anyone else they would use it against him.
This goes out with a major shout-out to Addy (aka Mrs. Cracker Jack). For being so kind in reviewing and patiently waiting for me to update my Four Brother's fic. There is certain line in the next chapter of Aftermath that I think you'll love.
And another big shout-out to xXxLOLAxXx. For being so kind to review and share her love of Weevil (the more appropriate word is obsession really) too.
Begging has worked for me so far, so I'm doing it again. R & R please.