Chapter Three
Still ain't mine. I enjoyed the caterpillar thing, did you? I hope so. My buddy Jessie thought it was funny. Anyhow, on to the fic, and enjoy.
I woke up with a jolt to someone's voice from beside the bed. "Dally." I looked over at the blonde man. I remembered who he was and relaxed. There ya go Dal. "Oh yeah, nothing to worry about he's just an assassin." Yup, that made sense. I sat up. "Mornin' Edward." He nodded. "Good Morning. Breakfast is on the table. We'll have to go get you outfitted afterwards. Civvie clothes; fatigues, don't have to worry about weapons though. You can go shopping in my weapons locker. Our plane leaves at 5 tonight." I climbed off the bed and yanked on my boots. "Works for me."
I shrugged into my jacket and ran a hand through my hair. Edward smirked and led the way out of the room. He was dressed different this morning. He was wearing a white button down shirt and blue jeans with cowboy boots and a big silver buckle.
"You've never been around horses." It was a statement, not a question. He didn't have the walk of someone who had ridden for any significant amount of time. He eyed me for a minute before smiling wryly. "No. I don't like animals." I looked at him like he'd just said he didn't like sex. I shook it off and shrugged. "Alright. I'll just make a mental note not to get you a kitten for Christmas." Edward smirked. "I'd just use it for target practice." I rolled my eyes. "Find a nice group of white supremacists or Socs or something and use them for target practice. Leave the poor kittens alone." He looked at me oddly. "Socs?" I rubbed my neck. "Er, yeah...Socs, socials." He shot me a slightly confused look. I sighed quietly. "I lived in a real big city until I was 12, and I was in a gang there. I was a fucking terror. I was twelve years old and a worse hood than most drug dealers. You name it; I'd do it, just for the thrill of it. Then I moved to a smaller place, but it was still pretty rough. It was split right up the middle.
"The Socs are the rich kids from the west side. The Greasers were the people from the wrong side of the tracks. When I was in the gang, I always had something to hate. There was always somebody trying to take our turf, or fucking with the wrong broad. So I was always in a rumble or a fight. When we moved, I didn't have a gang no more. I mean, sure I hung out with a group of guys, and we watched each others backs, but it wasn't a gang, and there were no rivals to hate. So I hated the Socs. The difference between a Hood and a Grease is that instead of becoming a badass by choice, a Grease is born into it. Their parents are Greasers, their sibs are Greasers. But none of them want to be Greasers.
"A Soc is a bored rich kid. They don't steal and get in trouble because they have to, they do it because they think it makes them tuff. And they jump us all the time. They nearly drowned Ponyboy, and beat the hell outta Johnnycake. I've even been busted up a few times. It's their idea of fun. And it's not like it hurts, cuz after all, we're just greasers." I intoned bitterly. "We don't have emotions, or pain, or nerve endings. The Socs got a rep. Everybody says they're like ice. They're not though. They don't know what ice is. They just don't care who they hurt. Us Greasers, we're ice. We explode and do bad shit, yeah, but we're ice. Cuz we do have feelings. We care who we hurt, but it never hurts us. Ponyboy, the kid I mentioned earlier, he was a mess whenever he got into a fight. He's a really sensitive kid. He hated hurting anyone, but he could, and he did, and he didn't regret it. He knew the score. He knew we couldn't let it touch us. We're ice. They can't touch us. No matter what they do, we'll never break cuz we got nothin to lose."
"I can see the fire though. The ice is invisible." He was looking me square in the eye, no doubt reading the hate written in my retinas. I don't know what was wrong with me. I don't usually run my yap this much. There was just something about this Edward guy. Like maybe he knew what it was like to be completely alone. To want to die. To have no choice. I nodded at him once. "Yeah. I know." I looked at the table, there was bacon, both crispy and chewy, scrambled eggs with little bits of peppers in them. A pile of toast, and orange juice. I cracked a smile looking at that table. Where was the beer and chocolate cake? What happened to grape jelly with eggs, and ice cream, Pepsi and playboy magazine? Edward sat down and noticed my smirk.
"What's so amusing?" He asked as he dished eggs onto his plate. I plopped down in my seat. "I ain't never had a breakfast like this. When I lived at home, breakfast was whatever I could scrounge up. When I started hangin' with the Curtis' brothers, breakfast got weird. Ponyboy eats chocolate and smokes cigarettes like nothing you've ever seen. In the mornings he's always trying to smoke, eat chocolate cake, drink chocolate milk, and find his track shoes all at the same time. Sodapop eats his eggs with Grape jelly and drinks chocolate milk. Two-Bit has three or four beers with his breakfast of half a chocolate cake, Darry just kinda moseys through the middle of the chaos with a cup of black coffee and a couple hardboiled eggs, and I kickback in the middle of it with a bud, a pack of Kools, a piece of cake, and a playboy."
He laughed quietly. "Sounds like you enjoyed it." I grabbed a piece of toast and smothered it in grape jelly. "Yeah, I did. It's over now, but while it lasted man...it was the best time of my fucking life."
Still ain't mine. I enjoyed the caterpillar thing, did you? I hope so. My buddy Jessie thought it was funny. Anyhow, on to the fic, and enjoy.
I woke up with a jolt to someone's voice from beside the bed. "Dally." I looked over at the blonde man. I remembered who he was and relaxed. There ya go Dal. "Oh yeah, nothing to worry about he's just an assassin." Yup, that made sense. I sat up. "Mornin' Edward." He nodded. "Good Morning. Breakfast is on the table. We'll have to go get you outfitted afterwards. Civvie clothes; fatigues, don't have to worry about weapons though. You can go shopping in my weapons locker. Our plane leaves at 5 tonight." I climbed off the bed and yanked on my boots. "Works for me."
I shrugged into my jacket and ran a hand through my hair. Edward smirked and led the way out of the room. He was dressed different this morning. He was wearing a white button down shirt and blue jeans with cowboy boots and a big silver buckle.
"You've never been around horses." It was a statement, not a question. He didn't have the walk of someone who had ridden for any significant amount of time. He eyed me for a minute before smiling wryly. "No. I don't like animals." I looked at him like he'd just said he didn't like sex. I shook it off and shrugged. "Alright. I'll just make a mental note not to get you a kitten for Christmas." Edward smirked. "I'd just use it for target practice." I rolled my eyes. "Find a nice group of white supremacists or Socs or something and use them for target practice. Leave the poor kittens alone." He looked at me oddly. "Socs?" I rubbed my neck. "Er, yeah...Socs, socials." He shot me a slightly confused look. I sighed quietly. "I lived in a real big city until I was 12, and I was in a gang there. I was a fucking terror. I was twelve years old and a worse hood than most drug dealers. You name it; I'd do it, just for the thrill of it. Then I moved to a smaller place, but it was still pretty rough. It was split right up the middle.
"The Socs are the rich kids from the west side. The Greasers were the people from the wrong side of the tracks. When I was in the gang, I always had something to hate. There was always somebody trying to take our turf, or fucking with the wrong broad. So I was always in a rumble or a fight. When we moved, I didn't have a gang no more. I mean, sure I hung out with a group of guys, and we watched each others backs, but it wasn't a gang, and there were no rivals to hate. So I hated the Socs. The difference between a Hood and a Grease is that instead of becoming a badass by choice, a Grease is born into it. Their parents are Greasers, their sibs are Greasers. But none of them want to be Greasers.
"A Soc is a bored rich kid. They don't steal and get in trouble because they have to, they do it because they think it makes them tuff. And they jump us all the time. They nearly drowned Ponyboy, and beat the hell outta Johnnycake. I've even been busted up a few times. It's their idea of fun. And it's not like it hurts, cuz after all, we're just greasers." I intoned bitterly. "We don't have emotions, or pain, or nerve endings. The Socs got a rep. Everybody says they're like ice. They're not though. They don't know what ice is. They just don't care who they hurt. Us Greasers, we're ice. We explode and do bad shit, yeah, but we're ice. Cuz we do have feelings. We care who we hurt, but it never hurts us. Ponyboy, the kid I mentioned earlier, he was a mess whenever he got into a fight. He's a really sensitive kid. He hated hurting anyone, but he could, and he did, and he didn't regret it. He knew the score. He knew we couldn't let it touch us. We're ice. They can't touch us. No matter what they do, we'll never break cuz we got nothin to lose."
"I can see the fire though. The ice is invisible." He was looking me square in the eye, no doubt reading the hate written in my retinas. I don't know what was wrong with me. I don't usually run my yap this much. There was just something about this Edward guy. Like maybe he knew what it was like to be completely alone. To want to die. To have no choice. I nodded at him once. "Yeah. I know." I looked at the table, there was bacon, both crispy and chewy, scrambled eggs with little bits of peppers in them. A pile of toast, and orange juice. I cracked a smile looking at that table. Where was the beer and chocolate cake? What happened to grape jelly with eggs, and ice cream, Pepsi and playboy magazine? Edward sat down and noticed my smirk.
"What's so amusing?" He asked as he dished eggs onto his plate. I plopped down in my seat. "I ain't never had a breakfast like this. When I lived at home, breakfast was whatever I could scrounge up. When I started hangin' with the Curtis' brothers, breakfast got weird. Ponyboy eats chocolate and smokes cigarettes like nothing you've ever seen. In the mornings he's always trying to smoke, eat chocolate cake, drink chocolate milk, and find his track shoes all at the same time. Sodapop eats his eggs with Grape jelly and drinks chocolate milk. Two-Bit has three or four beers with his breakfast of half a chocolate cake, Darry just kinda moseys through the middle of the chaos with a cup of black coffee and a couple hardboiled eggs, and I kickback in the middle of it with a bud, a pack of Kools, a piece of cake, and a playboy."
He laughed quietly. "Sounds like you enjoyed it." I grabbed a piece of toast and smothered it in grape jelly. "Yeah, I did. It's over now, but while it lasted man...it was the best time of my fucking life."