Going Home
~Sequel to At the Beginning~
(2nd Part to Begin & End Trilogy)

Chapter 1

"You ain't wearin' all black to yer own damned wedding!" Steve growled, staring at Mark, who was looking uncomfortable in his tuxedo. They were out shopping for Mark and Chalice's upcoming wedding, which would take place in a few short months. It'd been two years since the engagement and both decided it was finally time to stop stalling and just get it over with. They loved each other and wanted to settle down with a family, even though they never talked about having kids. "Yer either wearin' white or somethin' else, but not black!"

Mark growled, staring holes through his friend and retorted viciously, "Man, who the Hell is marrying her? You or me?" As far as the friendship factor was concerned, nobody was closer than Steve and Mark. They'd become best friends again, close to brothers, which is why they bickered and argued all the time. Both had differences, but at the end of the day, Steve wouldn't have shared a case of beer with anyone, but his sister's future husband and his best friend.

"Well I sure as Hell ain't marryin' my damned sister!" Steve shouted, ignoring the looks from the salesman. "We need a dress shirt big enough to fit this elephant, sir. One in white and one in blue if ya got it." He informed the man, ignoring the look on Mark's face. "I told ya, yer NOT wearin' all black. It's a wedding, not a fuckin' funeral!"

Groaning, Mark scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration and replied vaguely, "Steve, I'm nervous enough as it is without adding you to the damned mix. You mind? And midnight blue and silver are the colors of the wedding." He informed his best friend, who just nodded, hoping he didn't force him to try on a silver dress shirt. He'd have to shoot someone if that happened.

"What the Hell ya nervous 'bout? Chalice is a great gal. Yer ass is lucky to be gettin' her!" Steve exclaimed, not understanding what the Hell was wrong with his best friend. Chalice had been with him for two years and even though Steve didn't like the idea of them being together at first, he finally stood back one day and just watched them. They were the perfect fit and matched each other's personalities well.

Mark rubbed his face with his hands and let out a heavy sigh. "It ain't that. What if she decides she doesn't want to marry me or something?" He asked, revealing some of his fears that'd been bottling up inside of him for the past few months. He was having pre-wedding jitters, worried his fiancée might get cold feet and run on him.

Steve nodded knowingly, guessing what was running through Mark's head, and patted him on the back a few times reassuringly. "If she was plannin' on runnin' off on yer ass, ya know I'd be a helluva lot happier then I am now." He joked, relieved when the salesman returned with the dress shirts Steve instructed him to retrieve. "Now go try these on. NO MORE BLACK!" He ordered, pointing to the dressing room door, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

A few minutes later, Mark stepped out of the dressing room, the midnight blue dress shirt on under his tuxedo, and asked, "How's this?"

"Much better." Steve complied, standing up from the uncomfortable chair he'd been sitting in. "Now, go get the Hell outta them clothes before ya ruin'em. We'll have them tailored and shit." He ordered, waving off Mark, already discussing the adjustments with the salesman and tailor. Steve couldn't help, but wonder when he became a wedding planner in all this.

When Mark came back out, Steve was looking like he wanted someone to put a bullet through his head and asked hastily, "What's wrong with you?"

"Please don't ask." Steve groaned, shaking his head back and forth. "Just buy me a beer, alright?" Mark nodded. They were almost out of the shop when the tailor came running up, looking frantic and out of breath.

"Mr. Williams, what were Mr. Calaway's leg measurements again?" The tailor asked, having a notebook and pen in hand, and that was all Steve could take. This had been the fourth time in the past hour this stupid tailor had asked him this same question.

"That's it! I'm done! I don't care how many inches there are from yer damned hip to yer balls!" Steve shouted, blowing his top, and watched as the tailor jumped about a foot in the air from the explosive temper. "Ya answer the damned man's question!" He ordered Mark, stalking out the door, heading for the nearest bar.

Mark was mortified. He quickly wrote down all the information they would need. Then as an after thought, added Steve's cell number incase they had a question. Revenge on Steve for humiliating him like this in front of this tailor, who looked like he wanted to piss himself. Steve had one Hell of a temper on him and when it was released, everyone went for cover, even Mark. After making sure the tailor wouldn't lose his measurements, Mark headed down in the path Steve walked in, knowing he'd be headed for the first bar he could find.

He found Steve a few minutes later, being the first bar he'd passed up, not surprised in the least. He sighed, taking a seat on the stool next to his best friend and ordered himself a beer. Chalice suddenly popped into his head as he whipped out his cell phone and decided to call her, wondering what she was doing at that moment. He punched in the number and drummed his fingers on the counter, waiting for her to answer. They'd been apart all day and he'd missed her, hoping her mother wasn't driving her completely up the wall.

~!~

"Damn it, mom will you stop?!" Chalice snapped, trying on the fifth dress that day, and shook her head when her mother continued to go on about something incoherent once more. "Mom, screw this, I'm picking out my OWN wedding dress and you can go back home. I don't care what you or father feel or think. Steve has been there for me through EVERYTHING and has supported me through it all. If you can't accept it then here's a simple suggestion. Ready? DON'T COME!" She then stormed into the dressing room, practically ripping the ugly dress from her body.

It'd been this way for the past six months. Her mother would always find someway to bring up the subject about Steve walking her down the aisle instead of her father. Chalice was sick of hearing about it. Sick of hearing that it was hurting her father when in fact she knew deep down; the old man didn't give a damn. However, her mother refused to listen to reason and constantly begged her to change her mind. Today was no different and Chalice was about to explode and take half of Texas with her.

Sighing deep with regret, Beverly slowly stood up from the bench, not believing what her daughter had just said to her. Truth be told, she was livid at her daughter for even considering choosing their son over her husband to walk her down the aisle. She'd tried for the past six months to convince Chalice that her father was crushed, but her daughter wouldn't hear of it. Sighing, Beverly walked into the dressing room and felt her heart break at the sight of her daughter crying. "Challie honey, I didn't mean to make ya cry…" She cooed and walked over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Why can't you understand mom? I want Stevie to walk me down the aisle because he's the only one who's truly been there for me." She cried softly, wiping away her tears, but they just kept falling down her face. "I know dad isn't really that crushed because he didn't even come to me and talk to me about it. He never does with anything and I'm sick of waiting on him to open up to me. Stevie is walking me down the aisle and if you don't like it then like I said before don't come. This is MY life and MY decision and MY big day, not yours."

"Baby, I know you want Stevie to walk you down the aisle, but that's yer daddy's job…" Beverly tried to reason with her daughter and sighed when Chalice pulled away from her. "Challie, yer daddy is hurtin', baby because ya won't choose him…"

"Now he knows EXACTLY what it feels like to be shut out!" She spat, standing up and walking over to stare at the remaining dresses, feeling like she was going to vomit at any given moment. "Mom, I'm done talking to you about this. I'm done trying to tell you how it's going to be at my wedding. If father was so hurt, he would've fought harder for the spot that Stevie has and WILL have at my wedding." Chalice stated, her voice low and full of emotion, not believing her mother was doing this to her.

"Challie, please reconsider this…" Beverly tried once more and jumped when her daughter lost it completely.

"Enough, mom! The conversation is OVER and the subject is CLOSED!" She snapped before storming out of the dressing room again, furious that her mother wouldn't leave her alone about this.

After trying on several more dresses and hearing her mother's pleading, Chalice finally had it. She didn't say a word to her mother and stalked out of the dress shop, pissed beyond belief, and decided she needed to go back to the house. Her and Mark lived right down the street since they lived in Houston. She'd moved in with him almost instantly after reuniting with him after being away from him for close to three months. She sighed heavily, walking down the sidewalk, deep in thought, and could already feel the tears burning her eyes. Why couldn't her mother understand she was just trying to make the happiest day of her life just that, happy?

Her cell phone went off, causing Chalice to break out of her thoughts, and answered it, not bothering to look at the caller ID. "What?" She stated, mildly irritated at the moment, and sighed heavily when she heard Mark's voice on the other line. "Hey sweetie, what's up?" She still sounded pissed, but she calmed down when she heard her fiancé's voice.

The drumming of his fingers was pissing Steve off as he brought down his fist hard on Mark's fingers and growled, "Knock that shit off."

"Son of a bitch!" Mark roared, wincing, pulling his hand away. "Not you, Chalice. How's the dress hunting coming along?" He asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in his hand, and shot Steve a deadly glare.

"Mark, please don't mention the fucking word dress to me right now." She stated in a deadly voice, getting into her car, and turned the ignition on, not even waiting for her mother. She was so beyond pissed right now that all she wanted to do was go home and soak in a nice hot bubble bath. "Any luck with the tux hunt?" She asked, changing the subject to focus on her fiancé.

"YOUR brother is a damned pain in my ass. The son of a bitch…" Mark groaned, recounting what Steve had done in the tuxedo shop. Including the hip to balls comment, nudging Steve off his stool when the man started laughing.

Chalice was having a really hard time trying not to laugh, hearing her brother and fiancé bickering over the tuxedos, and shook her head in disbelief. "I swear as God as my fucking witness if you two start arguing at the wedding, I'm going to pull both of your scrotums over your heads and watch you walk around that way!" She threatened, not believing how much her brother and Mark argued. "Fuck, is there anything you two DON'T argue over?"

Steve swallowed hard; Mark had put the cell on speakerphone so he heard that scrotum threat loud and clear. "Beer." He spoke up instantly, causing Mark to grunt in agreement. It was the truth. That was the ONLY thing Steve could think of that he and Mark didn't argue over. "Though there was that time I out drank yer ass and ya got so drunk…"

"YOU LYING PRICK!" Mark roared, his temper shooting through the roof as his green eyes spit venom back at his best friend, cutting him off.

"Figures." Chalice muttered under her breath and sighed when they started arguing again. "STOP IT NOW!" She shouted, screeching her tires to a halt at a red light, and growled angrily in the phone, "KNOCK IT OFF RIGHT NOW BEFORE I PUT MY FOOT UP BOTH YOUR ASSES!"

"Bring it on, Challie!" Steve challenged, snorting. "Ya gotta find us first!"

"Man, will you shut the Hell up? I live with her!" Mark snapped, knowing he was going to pay for what Steve said just now later on at home.

"Well put yer foot down! Yer the man ain't ya?" Steve grunted, getting back on his stool, and ordered, "Buy me a drink, jackass."

"Buy your own goddamned drink!"

Chalice had heard enough of this shit. "You know what? FUCK YOU BOTH!" She shrieked and ended the call abruptly, throwing her cell in the passenger seat, and started driving home.

Mark groaned when Chalice hung up, shooting Steve a deadly look. "Thanks you cocksucker." He growled, raking a hand through his long, black tresses in frustration.

"Shit man, ya know I was only messin' with ya." Steve looked genuinely upset, knowing there was going to be some serious troubles in paradise now. "Buy her some white roses." He suggested, knowing Chalice couldn't resist them.

"She'll know I'm kissing ass." Mark countered, rubbing his face with his hands repeatedly and through his hair, downing another shot of Jack Daniels.

"Well, it's the thought that counts ain't it?" Steve retorted with a smirk, downing the rest of his beer, and sighed heavily, knowing his baby sister was pissed. He didn't blame her. He'd been a total jagoff and now Mark was going to have to pay for it.

Tears streamed down her cheeks the entire way. When she got there, Chalice made sure to lock all the doors, set the alarm, and immediately went up to her room to start her bubble bath. She honestly didn't care about anything at the moment, especially her dickhead of a brother and fiancé. "Fuck them both." She muttered. "I hope they fuckin' kill each other then I don't have to put up with either of them!" After pouring some bubble bath jasmine scent in the tub, Chalice swished it around, the tears still falling down her face, and sniffled a little. She hadn't meant to snap on them the way she did, but her mother had pissed her off so much that she didn't feel like hearing her brother and fiancé bicker. She sighed deeply, raking a hand through her hair, which was now back to normal black, but had red streaks throughout it, and closed the bathroom door behind her.