Title: One Hand Clapping
Author: Stormy1x2 (travelingstorm)
Words (fic portion) for chapter 3: 8012 (approx 18 OpenOffice pages)
Rating: PG13 for language
Pairing: Mention of April/Casey, Casey's mom/dad
Summary: Book 1. Casey learns not all battles can be won with a hockey stick, and April, and the TMNT learn there's more to their so-called 'simple' friend then they ever dreamed.
Notes: I'm starting to think no one's reading this thing except Engelina, Ame Musashi, and my wonderful error-fixers/ego slappers Red and OSM. Oh well, comments or not, I still plan on posting this monster. To those of you who have reviewed and offered tips and encouragement, thank you – it means the world to me.
This section was beta-read by the very helpful and generous Red Rebel. Thanks for your help! I went back in and re-did a few small things, so any errors left are mine alone.
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Casey had never been one for watching much TV, unless it was the news, and the bit of stupidity currently on display in the Oncology waiting room screen was convincing him he wasn't missing anything. On the fuzzy screen, two teams were decorating a room in each other's homes, and one so-called 'designer' was doing something with day-glow orange paint and fuzzy dice that Casey wasn't sure was even legal.
He snorted. The only touch up show he'd ever thought worth his salt was Pimp My Ride, but he hadn't seen an episode of that in months. He used to think about submitting his Chevy, but, he thought to himself, Donnie, Raph and I could probably trick it out better than anything Xzibit and Mad Mike could come up with.
He'd been in there for almost an hour, and apparently it'd be another two before his mother would be finished in the glass encased room at the end of the hall. The doctor had told Casey he was welcome to join his mother, to be there with her, but one look at her face made him decide to leave her to it. He did mention that he'd be in the waiting room though – it wasn't like he was running out of the building.
Though he had to admit, he was kind of glad to be out of the room. His mother was being given her chemotherapy drugs in the form of an I.V, and there was nothing to do except sit, and wait, and watch it drip, drip, drip into his mother's arm. Frankly, the idea freaked him out.
Attack him with a blade, try to run him off the road, aim a laser gun at his face, put him up against a three-hundred pound, pissed off Triceraton with nothing but a baseball bat and a prayer - that was all good, as far as he was concerned.
Just keep the needles far, far away.
Casey forlornly toed the duffel bag he'd brought that was lying on the ground. He'd brought a couple of cycle mags, but he didn't really feel like reading them. His stomach growled, and he rubbed it automatically. Breakfast had been almost four whole hours ago.
"Hungry, Mr Jones?" chirped a familiar voice. Casey stifled a groan as Bianca walked up to him, flashing him another blindingly white smile. "I'd be happy to show you to the cafeteria."
"That's okay," Casey said, shaking his head. "I know where it is. I can get there myself."
"Are you sure? I do have some free time, and it's certainly no trouble." She leaned in closer, and Casey backed up a step.
"No, no, I'm good. Really. In fact, I'm going there right now. Myself. Alone." He pointed down the hallway at the elevator. "So...yeah. Going now. I'll see you, uh, later, okay?"
The nurse beamed, and he took the chance to escape. The elevator arrived within seconds of his pressing the button, and he ducked inside quickly, jabbing the 'close door' button repeatedly until the heavy doors slid shut. As the elevator began its descent, Casey gave himself a mental smack for acting like a scared rabbit.
For freak's sakes, she's a nurse, not a foot soldier. She's just a friendly, helpful nurse who might be crushing on me, and I act like I'm being targeted by an Amazon warrior princess.
A search of the cafeteria yielded a dubious looking mystery meat covered in a runny, gray substance that the serving lady swore was gravy. Casey decided it was in his stomach's best interest if he played it safe, and grabbed one of the sealed, pre-made salads. As an afterthought, he snagged a ham and cheese sub. He picked up two Cokes and then headed for the cashier.
Dumping the dressing into the salad, Casey wolfed it down, suddenly ravenous. It was really good too, full of veggies and walnuts. He knew the guys would find it hard to believe, but Casey was actually very fond of healthy food. His mother had raised him to be aware of what he put into his body, especially when he'd started working out with a vengeance during high school. He may live on a steady diet of fast food because of the convenience, but if he had the choice, there was no way he'd pass up the healthier option.
He tossed the container in the trash, and headed back upstairs, gnawing on the end of the sub he'd unwrapped, shoving the unopened cans of soda in his bag for later. He took the stairs instead of lazying his way up the elevator, jumping them three at a time, all the way up to the fourth floor to burn off some energy.
Pushing the stairwell door open, he stepped into the brightly lit hallway and headed for the Oncology ward. As he did so, the doors at the far end of the hall opened up and a familiar, dark-haired man walked through. Casey stopped short, his sub half-in, half-out of his mouth.
Eyes met across the hall, one pair wary and unsure, the other pair confused and surprised. Casey swallowed the mouthful of ham and cheese and blurted out, "Sid?"
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The last time Casey had seen his cousin, had been a few months ago at the farmhouse, and it wasn't an altogether pleasant memory. Sid had owed money to a sect of the Purple Dragons, and had come to the farmhouse to look for hidden treasure he swore their grandpa had buried somewhere on the property.
It wasn't exactly a proud moment in the Jones family history – at least, not to anyone besides his grandfather – but his grandfather had claimed to have robbed a train back when he'd been a young man of twenty-six.
Jacob Jones had always been a sort of con man throughout his life, always looking for a way to make a quick buck. Casey had learned from his father about doing the right thing, and it had always amazed him that his dad had turned out so well, even with a father like Jacob. He credited the honorable part of his father on his grandmother, Cassie.
Cassandra Wells had married Jacob Jones knowing that he liked to play...a little loosely with the rules. She had once told Casey and Adelina that it was the bad boy in Jacob that she had initially been attracted to. Her parents hadn't wanted her to have anything to do with him, so of course, the first thing she did was marry him when she got the chance.
Casey was pretty sure that his grandmother hadn't known about the train robbery until well into their marriage. Jacob had probably hidden the loot somewhere safe until he and his wife had moved to the farmhouse in 1984.
The farmhouse had actually belonged to his maternal grandparents initially. Adelina's mother and father, Fiametta and Dominic Esposito, had bought the place in 1972, a few years after Dominic had founded Esposito Communications. By the time Casey had been born ten years later, the company had been really starting to take off, and in 1984, the Esposito's had moved back into the city to be closer to the business.
They had allowed Cassie and Jacob to take over the farmhouse, the pair having hit a patch of financial difficulty by then. His grandfather had a history of shady dealings with the city's underworld, having been arrested once for petty theft in 1975, and fined two other times for illegal gambling. As a result, he had found it difficult to find gainful employment. The Esposito's were not fond of Jacob, but Cassie and Fiametta had become the best of friends soon after the marriage of their children – their daughter, Adelina, and Cassie and Jacob's son, David Jones. Fiametta and Dominic had the money, and felt the least they could do was let them take care of the upkeep on the farmhouse for them.
Casey speculated that his grandfather had moved the loot to the farmhouse with them, and had hidden it on the property near the future burial place of his dog Spot. Jacob Jones had died nearly ten years ago in 1996 as a result of one too many bad deals, killed in a drive-by shooting that had never been solved.
But apparently, Jacob had sensed a shady kind of kindred spirit in Sid, and had told him of his daring robbery, and that the money lay hidden somewhere on the grounds. Sid had come to the farmhouse to find it, to pay off his debts to the Dragons.
Casey had greeted his cousin with a fist to the mouth. His cousin had pretty much disappeared a couple years ago, and Casey was sure he would have been happy if he'd never seen his cousin again.
Up until his cousin's first day of high school, Casey and Sid had been inseparable whenever they visited the farmhouse. Then, in grade nine, a fourteen-year-old Sid had fallen in with a young group of punks that had ties to the newest gang in town, the Purple Dragons. Even after Casey's dad had been killed defending his store from them, Sid had still maintained his allegiance to the Dragon's, and Casey's hero-worship of his cousin had turned to bitter hatred.
Sid's parents had washed their hands of their son after he had left home at seventeen. Casey had been twelve at the time, still in shock over his father's death the year ago. His hatred of his cousin, and the Dragons had grown like an untamed wildfire. Before he'd come to the farmhouse to search for buried treasure, Casey had only seen Sid once before since those times, and that was at the reading of Grandma Fiametta's will when Casey was sixteen. Being the son of Fiametta's best friend Cassandra, he had received a small amount of money he'd no doubt squandered on illegal activities.
When Sid had shown up that night with a group of Dragons in tow, Casey and the turtles had just been settling into the makeshift infirmary they'd set up in the attic. They were fresh from their final battle with Shredder on board his spacecraft, and despite the Utrom's miraculous healing techniques, they were still a far ways from being fighting fit. It had taken some creative battling to fight while wrapped in bandages and covered in plaster casts, and still remain hidden from view.
They had triumphed in the end, of course, and Casey could still remember the shocked look on Sid's face when April had flipped the dragon leader Spuds ass-over-teakettle, using her newly-learned martial arts skills. Then Casey had solved the riddle of the location of the stolen loot, and Sid had done an abrupt turnaround, hesitantly offering to share whatever he found with his cousin.
That had stunned him. He and Sid hadn't had a civil moment together in years, and somehow, it was like in the course of that evening, Sid had managed to finally grow up a bit. Maybe it was seeing his oh-so-tough Dragon pals getting beat up by shadows, a slim redhead and himself, or maybe it was something Sid had been contemplating before he'd ever arrived, but either way, it had gone a long way towards calming Casey's temper.
They'd located the box with the supposed loot together, and had opened it to find their grandmother had beaten them to it.
Cassandra had found the money, and in an apparent effort to make up for her husband's villainous ways, she'd donated the stolen loot to various charities. All of the money had been replaced with charity receipts. Casey and Sid had taken one look at the box and had burst out laughing. They should have known that their grandfather couldn't have kept their grandmother in the dark.
Sid had left soon after, he and Casey's parting a lot more tolerable then it had been eight years before. He hadn't seen his rogue cousin since. Now, in the Oncology ward hallway, Casey looked his cousin up and down warily.
"Hey Case," Sid said gruffly. His tone was quiet, subdued. Casey narrowed his eyes.
"If you're here lookin' for a handout-"
"Nah, s'not why I'm here." Sid shoved his hands in the pockets of his long coat, flicking his eyes around the hall. "Your, uh, mom told me what was going on. I called Auntie Adie a few weeks ago. I was tryin' to get my mom's phone number."
Casey blinked. "So you knew before me too?" Another thought occurred to him at the same time. "Since when do you want to talk to your mother?"
Sid's dad Andrew was the older brother of David Jones, Casey's own father. He and his wife Megan had always been a bit aloof with the rest of the family. After their son had cut all ties with them, they had moved on with their life, and Andrew had accepted a job transfer in 1999, to Australia to head up a new project on the outskirts of Melbourne. Casey hadn't seen or heard from them since. It wasn't surprising, considering what had been going on in his life in the past seven years. He'd spent most of it tracking down and attacking Dragon members. Not to mention the last year and a half of his life which was almost too crazy for even himself to believe – and he had lived it.
But to hear that his mother had kept in contact with Sid's parents...well, she'd never told him. And Sid had known too, even though Casey couldn't see him speaking to his estranged parents. He raised an eyebrow.
Sid shrugged. "Yeah, well, after we...talked, last time, I, uh, kinda called your mother." He gave a rueful grin. "Let's just say that spunky redhead of yours knocked some sense into me. You drove off the Dragons – hell, Case, you defended me, got me out, and after all I've done to you and our family." He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "It got me thinkin', and after a while, I decided I wanted to...call home, you know?"
Casey relaxed a fraction. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. But I...I uh, lost my parent's info." He ducked his head. "Let's just say, up until our little reunion, I hadn't been too careful about keeping up to date on family."
"I can relate to that," Casey reluctantly admitted. He'd gone almost eight months without talking to his mother after meeting the turtles and April, and even longer then that back when his thoughts had consisted of little other than Purple Dragon hunting.
"So I looked your ma up in the book a couple weeks ago, and called her. We got to talkin' 'bout stuff." A spark of humor touched his face. "Man, I haven't been reamed out like that since I was a kid! She let me have it with both barrels, dude, I'm tellin' ya!"
Casey couldn't help but snicker. "I'm surprised you're still alive, cuz!"
"Me too! It's a damn good thing this was on the phone. Lucky for me, I didn't have the guts to show up at grandma's old place in person." Sid suddenly gave a very small smile. "Cuz...we haven't called each other that in years."
Casey cleared his throat. "Yeah."
Sid watched him for a minute, but when nothing else was said, he spoke up again. "Casey?"
"What?"
"Do you think..." he paused, and then tried again. "I mean, I know I've been a real ass since high school, but I was wonderin'..." he stopped again.
Casey waited.
"Look, you and your ma are gonna be goin' through...stuff. And I know I ain't 'zactly your favorite person in the world anymore, but I...I want..." he stopped for a third time, and then said flatly, "Forget it, I sound like a fuckin' idiot--"
"Sid, hang on a sec." Casey interrupted him. He glared at the rail-thin man. "I know what you're trying to say, and I want to point out that you really friggin' hurt me, you know? You were my idol, man – I looked up to you when we was kids! And then you turned to the Dragons, even after you knew what they did to my parent's store – what they did to my dad!" Casey's fists clenched. "That kind of betrayal...for months, I thought I was gonna hurl, every time I heard your name mentioned. You sickened me."
Casey's cousin was paling more and more with every word. "Case-man..."
"Case-man...you were the first person to start calling me Casey. I remember you tellin' ma and pop that Arnold was a stupid name and it'd get me beaten up in school," Casey said reminiscently. He relaxed his hands a bit, but his body was still stiff with tension. "You started calling me Casey instead, and I thought you were so cool that I told everyone to call me that from then on."
Sid said nothing, only watched.
"You ran away," Casey said, his voice soft and thick with remembered betrayal. "Not only did you join the Dragons, but you left the family. Your parent's were devastated – they didn't know whether you were alive or dead. Then you showed up at Grandma Fiametta's will reading, just to get your hands on the money she'd left you for some reason. You weren't an Esposito by blood, but she loved you anyway and you repaid that love by grabbing the money and running away again!"
Sid was looking at the floor now, hands shaking.
"You didn't show up or even call when Grandma Cassie died," Casey said almost brokenly. "Your parents came back for the funeral, and they kept looking around, hoping to see you come in, even if it was just for a minute. You told them you wanted nothing to do with them, with any of us, but they still had hope that you'd change your mind."
"It's too late then, right?" Sid asked roughly, still staring at the floor. "Is that what you're telling me Casey?"
"You're an ass, Sid, and you owe apologies left, right and center to everyone you hurt when you betrayed us," Casey said, staring straight at him. Both of them stood stock still, waiting, Casey searching for something in Sid that he wasn't sure existed anymore. Long minutes stretched out between them, hard and tense. Then, a tiny smile appeared on Casey's face. "But I'm glad you're here to deliver 'em. In person, no less. Better late than never, ya know?"
Sid's head snapped up and he looked at Casey in disbelief. "C-Case?" He stammered out.
"S-Sid," Casey said mockingly, before stalking over and pulling his cousin into a rough hug. After a shocked second, Sid's arms slowly came up to return the embrace, and then suddenly, Casey's ribs were in danger of being cracked in pieces.
It flooded over him, the feeling of having a family member return to you, and Casey suddenly remembered all the times he'd gone running to his older cousin when he was younger. Scraped knees that needed a Batman band-aid, or frog that required a jar with holes in the lid. Memories of summer nights on the barn roof counting the stars, swimming in the pond out in the woods, and laughter, always laughter, especially when Sid had learned to drive the tractor at the tender age of eleven. He'd driven it right into the side of the barn, making a six-year-old Casey laugh until he'd gotten the hiccups.
Sid had done terrible things, but he hadn't always been that way. He was family, and no matter how hard you try, you can't erase the bond of blood that ties you together. You can't hate family. You can be disappointed by them, hurt by them, angry with them – but you can't hate them, even when you tell yourself that you do. Casey felt the last of his anger drain away.
Eyes tightly squeezed shut, he gripped his cousin fiercely, feeling the older man tremble under the weight of his acceptance. His cousin felt frail to him, smaller, which was odd, like their positions had been reversed. Despite their ages, now Casey was the strong one, the one with purpose in his life, teaching his older cousin to live right, as naturally as Sid had once taught him to swim and climb trees.
His cousin had a lot to make up for, but at least he was there. That was something. A beginning. Casey soaked up the feeling of happiness of his cousin's return, and thumped him on the back, hugging him tighter.
And somewhere in the midst of his happiness, came a great wave of relief that someone else knew the burden he was carrying. He still didn't feel ready to tell April or the guys about his mother, but Sid already knew. Sid knew and he was there, and for the first time since his mother had told him about her cancer, Casey felt that damnable building pressure ease.
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Adelina closed the door behind her as she left the chemo room. The nurse had put a cotton ball against the small hole in her arm where the I.V had fed into her, and she held it there for a few more minutes. Pulling the cotton away, she noted that the bleeding had stopped, so she threw the ball into the trash and pulled her sleeve back down from her shoulder where it had been rolled up.
Two hours of sitting still was surprisingly exhausting. As per the suggestion made by Bianca the night before, Adelina had made sure to bring a selection of magazines to leaf through during her treatment. However, her attention had kept circling around back to the drugs dripping into her veins, and the last half hour had been spent watching it dwindle away into her system.
The doctor wanted to talk to her before they started her radiation therapy. Adelina knew from the explanations from Doctor O'Brien that it was just a needle full of medicine that would be injected near the cancer site – her chest. The thing was, the 'medicine' in the needle was actually a radioactive substance that would attempt to shrink or outright kill cancerous cells. Adelina had the disturbing image of herself glowing bright green, growing fifty feet high, and trying to stomp all over downtown New York. Despite all her churning thoughts and fears, she couldn't help but smile a bit at the idea. She'd probably look good in green.
The doctor's office loomed ahead, and Adelina paused to knock on the door. Past the office was his secretary's desk, and beyond that, the Oncology waiting room where Casey had probably been pacing the entire time she'd been gone.
Adelina felt a little bad about kicking her son out, but she wasn't ready to let herself show her reluctance or her worry to him. She was the parent in this situation. She had to be strong. She would be strong.
"Come on in," the doctor called out, and Adeline turned the knob. "Hello Adelina. You just finished your first session – how do you feel?"
"Tired," Adelina admitted, taking a seat. "And a little...dizzy, I guess. Nothing too bad."
"That's good, that's good," Douglas nodded. "Though keep in mind, the symptoms are most likely going to get stronger very soon. Did you read any of the information I gave you last time?"
Adelina thought about the pile of papers in the farmhouse living room, and gave him a wry look. "Not exactly."
The doctor chuckled warmly. "You're not the first patient to tell me they haven't done their homework. But still, you might want to have a look. Some patients find it comforting to know what to expect, and what changes can occur."
"Maybe," she said noncommittally.
"Well, at any rate, I hope you remembered what I told you about eating small meals. They digest easily and much faster than large ones, which will be better for your system. Sometimes treatments have a severe effect on your appetite."
"You told me I'd start feeling sick," Adelina remembered. "Or not hungry."
"Yes. Which is why eating small foods, or at least, nibbling on healthy things during the day will do more to help you, nutrition-wise. Large meals can make you throw it right back up, but small meals might have a lesser effect."
Adelina nodded.
The doctor picked up a few more papers, and shuffled through them. "Aside from discussing possible side effects, Adelina, I also wanted to know if you'd contacted any of the support groups I mentioned last time?"
"Nah," she shrugged. "I don't feel that sick, and I've got my son helping me, so I'm not alone. Frankly, I'm not much for sitting around and whining about things I can't change, doc."
Doctor O'Brien frowned at her. "That is not what support groups are for. Adelina, your body is going through a series of debilitating changes that are only going to get worse. It can help to talk to people who have been through the same things."
"I'm not very good at sharing my problems."
"That's good for you, but what about your son?"
Adelina blinked at him. "Casey? What about my son? He's not sick."
"No, he's not. But he's going to be with you until the end, watching you get progressively weaker and weaker before his very eyes." Douglas O'Brien sighed and looked her straight in the eyes. "May I have your permission to speak bluntly?"
The dark-haired woman gave a rasping laugh. "Go ahead, Doc. 'Blunt' is the one language both the Esposito's and the Joneses speak fluently."
"Very well. You said your son is going to be with you, so you're not alone. Let me be very specific about that. Your son is going to be there when you throw up, or get dizzy. He's going to clean up after you, take care of you, and drive you to appointments when you are too sick to drive yourself. He is going to watch his strong and proud mother become too weak to even go to the bathroom by herself." O'Brien sighed, and linked his hands together. "You have a fatal disease, Adelina. With luck, hope and faith, our treatments will give you more time to spend with your son, but it can only give you so much. The odds are very much against you living out the year. There is always hope, but we also have to be realistic." He tapped his fingers against the folder Adeline knew held her records. "Your cancer has spread past both lungs and into your lymph nodes. There is very little we can do except try to halt further spread, but what you already have is enough." He leaned forward, his eyes deadly serious. "Your son is going to watch you die, slowly, bit by bit, and there is ultimately nothing we can do."
Adelina's hands squeezed tightly around the chair handles, her knuckles turning white.
"Eventually," the doctor continued. "Your fight will be over. But when you are gone, who is going to be there to help your son?"
Adelina swallowed painfully. "His girlfriend will be there for him," she said shakily. "He's talked about his other friends..."
"Why isn't she here now?" Douglas asked gently. "I think Casey is doing the same thing you're doing – trying to handle the weight of the world on his shoulders, and not letting anyone lift a finger to help. And even if he did, sometimes it's still better for him to meet other cancer patient friends and families. People who have gone through and are still going through everything he is now. Adelina, I can't make you accept support from strangers, no matter how much I think it will help you, but at least think about it. For your son's sake, if nothing else."
Adelina didn't say anything, but eventually she nodded, letting the doctor know she got the point.
"Okay." The doctor gently pushed one of the brochures to her. "If it makes a difference at all, I speak at this group once a month, to answer questions that friends and family members may have that they don't feel they have the right to ask the patient about. It's a friendly bunch, with people from all walks of life. I think you and Casey might benefit from an informal Q and A session to start, rather then some of the more intense, smaller group settings."
Adelina put the paper in her purse. "Maybe."
The doctor seemed to know when he was pushing the limit. "Do you have any questions for me right now?"
She shook her head. "Not really. Except, now I gotta go have that radiation therapy now, right?"
He nodded. "It's back the way you came, but you turn right, instead of left. I'll walk you down, if you like."
"I can find it," she said, waving off the offer. "But thanks anyway."
He smiled a bit sadly at her. "Always so strong, huh? Very well. I'll call down and let them know to expect you. We'll be watching you for about an hour or so, to make sure there are no immediate adverse conditions, and then your son can take you back home. But you need to be aware of yourself and how you feel. If at any time you feel like you can't breathe, or there are sharp pains or you being experiencing any other severe symptoms, I expect you to call immediately, either my office, or an ambulance. Is that clear?"
"I understand, doc. Can you do me a favor?"
"Yes?"
"Can you tell my son I'll be done in about an hour or so?"
"Of course." He smiled. "I can always ask Bianca to do it. She seems to be somewhat...impressed, by your son."
Adelina chuckled. "My son always was popular with the girls growing up, especially after he started hitting the gym. Still," she added. "She should know my son is already involved with a lovely girl. And no matter what faults he may have, he's always been a very loyal person."
"I can see that," O'Brien smiled. "I can tell by his devotion to his mother."
Adelina gave a small smile at that.
"I'll make sure he knows," he repeated. "You'd better get going."
"Yeah. Thanks doc. I'll see ya later." And with that, she was out the door.
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Casey couldn't believe that he'd been sitting there in the waiting room for over an hour with his cousin, and neither of them were beaten to a pulp. He had fully expected to still harbor some resentment towards Sid, but the longer they sat there talking, the easier it became, and soon they were talking about the old days at the farm. Casey brought up the tractor incident again, and Sid groaned.
"One time. I crash the damn thing one time, and I never hear the end of it."
"Hey, I was an impressionable six-year-old," Casey said with a grin. "You made a heck of a, heh, impact on me."
"I've gotten a lot better since then," Sid protested. "I became one hell of a wheelman-"
He stopped. Casey froze, and a silence settled over the waiting room. Casey sighed as he realized the pink elephant had just been pointed out. We have to talk about it sometime, he rationalized. It might as well be now.
"So, uh, that was what you did then, huh? Drove the get-away cars?" Despite his mental vow to keep it civil, he couldn't quite keep the coolness out of his tone.
Sid had a hard time meeting his gaze, and he shrugged. "In the beginning, yeah." He looked up. "Then I started doing mechanical work. Maintenance, ya know? The...the Dragons always had new cars comin' in, and my job was to check 'em out, make 'em road-worthy."
"Stripped 'em down, right?" Casey wondered how long he could keep his temper.
"Not really. They had other guys for that. We had some big rigs there owned by the head of the Dragons, specialty cars with designs I'd never seen before. I got to play under the hood and make sure everything purred like a basket full of kittens." Sid shrugged. "All I knew was the head guy was important, and we had to treat his cars like they was fine china. Some Asian dude, named after a Japanese beer. Saki, can ya believe it?"
"Shredder," Casey growled. "Oroku Saki." His fists clenched.
"That's him!" Sid looked at him questioningly. "Case, you know about the Shredder?"
Casey forced himself to take a deep breath. "You could say that," he managed to get out, without jumping up and slamming the other man against the wall. "How much did you know about him?"
"Not much man, I swear. The Dragon's that I ran with were more north of the city. We did our...work away from here. Some of the guys did drug-running, others ran gambling ops or..." he trailed off, and looked away. Casey glared at him.
"Protection rackets, right?" he spat out.
Sid shrugged, nodding. "Among other things. Like I said, I didn't really have much to do with that side of it. I did some driving in the beginning, but then they found out I knew my way around a toolbox, and well, they put me to work that way." He eyed his cousin warily. "Do I even wanna know how you know about the Shredder?"
"Depends. Your little Dragon buddies ever tell you what was goin' on with the Dragons in the city?"
"Like what?" Sid asked, sounding a bit confused.
"Like a bunch of ninjas running around in black pajamas and swords, buildings being destroyed, all that stuff?"
"Before or after those dinosaur guys showed up and tried to fly Manhattan up to the clouds?" Sid said wryly. "Yeah, for being a gang of thugs, there was actually good communications between factions. Lots of information was classified, but I know there was a rival group or something giving Shredder a hard time. Lots of fighting – the guy was always looking for new recruits to fight some enemy of his. And I saw the news reports – some guy got a shot of a space ship flying out of Saki's mansion." He shook his head. "Only in New York, you know?"
"Ever hear about someone called 'the vigilante'?"
Sid nodded. "Yeah, we heard about that. Some nut in a hockey mask beating the shit out of Dragons. Spuds wanted to bring the gang down to help out, but Sonny and Spike told him to back off. Different turfs and all that. Never did hear the end of the story though. I know at one point they had him – guess they probably took care of him. What about it?"
In answer, Casey leaned down and grabbed his bag. He unzipped it, reached in, pulled out a familiar object and dropped it on his cousin's lap.
Sid stared at the worn and scarred hockey mask glaring up at him. He looked at his cousin, back to the mask, and then back to Casey again. "No way!"
Casey snorted, and leaned back, folding his arms. "Yes way."
"You were the 'vigilante'? Holy christ, you had the Dragons running, man!" Sid gaped at his cousin. "How the hell did you get away from them? The big guy in New York, Hun – he did catch you, right?"
"Only for a couple of hours," Casey said with an injured tone. He tried not to preen under his cousin's compliments, but it was hard. "I had some friends who came and got me out." He smiled in remembrance. "And then it was payback time."
"You're braver than me, cuz," Sid murmured. There was a faint admiring edge to his voice. "You took on the Dragons and lived."
"I had to take them on," Casey said, his own voice hardening again. "You know damn well what they did to me and my family. What they did to my dad."
Sid looked away. Casey couldn't sit anymore and jumped out of his chair, beginning to pace up and down the hallway. Sid watched him silently.
Eventually, Casey came to a halt, pointing his finger at his cousin. "I wanna know why."
"Why?"
"Why you went with the Dragons. You knew the Dragons burned down our store because Dad wouldn't pay into their protection racket. And a year later, after he stood up to them again, he was killed. Beaten to death in an alleyway. The police said it was probably a mugger, but dad still had his wallet. He was wearing his leather jacket. Muggers would have taken those." Casey swallowed hard, anger burning him up inside. "And my dad could've taken a mugger. Any time, any place. He'd been beaten to death, Sid. Killed by the Dragons 'cause he stood up for himself, for what was right." His eyes narrowed, drilling into his cousin. "And not a year after that, you went and joined them."
Sid raised his hands defensively. "No I didn't!"
"Don't lie!" Casey shouted. A nurse suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway, striding towards them, a cross look on her face.
"Sirs? Is there a problem here?"
Behind her, two male orderlies were following, watching, eyes suspicious. Casey had no doubt that one of them had a hand on a cell phone or something, ready to call for backup in case a fight broke out.
Sid stood up, setting Casey's mask down. He kept shooting Casey wary looks, but he took a step in the nurses direction, giving her a small smile. "I'm sorry miss. My cousin and I are...catching up, and we've got a lot of issues to resolve. We'll try to keep it down."
The nurse glared at him, looking him over, and then giving them a short nod. "Very well. But keep it down please. This is a hospital you know, not a boxing arena. Next time, I will have security escort you out to resolve your issues elsewhere. Is that clear?"
"Yes ma'am," Casey said quietly. She left, and after a few seconds, the orderlies did too, though they didn't go far. Casey watched as one settled in near the end of the hall, a newspaper in hand. He couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement over the idea of he and his cousin requiring a babysitter.
Sid sat back down, still watching his cousin. Casey took another deep breath, released it, and then sat back down as well.
After another minute, Sid spoke up quietly. "I didn't lie."
Casey's jaw clenched. "So those weren't Purple Dragon members April and me had to toss out of the farmhouse then?"
"Casey, when I left home to join a gang, that's just what I did. I joined a gang. Not the Purple Dragons. At the time, the group of guys I hung with didn't have any ties to the Dragons." Sid spoke quietly, but quickly, as though he were afraid that Casey was going to interrupt him with a shout. Or worse. "They were mainly drug runners, black-market operators. I was the driver for a lot of deals that went down up north. I swear, we never did no protection rackets. I could never have done that, not after what happened to Uncle Dave."
Casey grunted, feeling a familiar pain in his chest at the mention of his father, but he motioned for his cousin to continue.
"The gang and I...we were together for a few years, real close ya know? I traded one family for another, kinda. Yeah, we broke the law, but it wasn't any hardcore stuff. The drugs was mainly marijuana – nothing harder than that." Sid frowned. "But then the leader of the group told us one day we were signing up with the Dragons, moving on to bigger and better things. More money, bigger territory – it was gonna be sweet." He looked down again. "I still had my buddies, and I tried to ignore that it was the Dragons – I just did my job and kept my head down. They found out I could fix engines and do detail work, and they made me do that instead of the other jobs the gang got assigned too."
"What happened?" Casey asked reluctantly, after Sid had paused for more than a minute.
Sid snorted. "I got greedy. When there was no official Dragon cars to work on, they made me do detailing. We actually did have a garage on the side. Charged a heck of a lot more, and you probably don't want to know how we retained our 'clients' but most of it was on the up and up. I did detailing work, charged a bit extra, and skimmed a bit off the top for myself." He rubbed his head. "I wound up with a good chunk'a stash too. But I spent it all, mainly booze, women--"
"Drugs?"
Sid shrugged. "Sometimes we needed a heavier rush then what we had in stock. I'd go...shopping. We'd party. I never said we was angels, Casey."
The ex-vigilante glared. "Go on."
"So anyway, eventually the Dragons caught on, and wanted their money back. My group scattered so they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. I was given three days to pay it back or I'd be blown away. I was desperate Casey – I had no money, and I had to pay it back? With what?" Sid rubbed his hands together nervously. "That's when I thought of Grandpa Jake's old train stories." His eyes darted back up to Casey's steely gaze. "You know the rest."
Casey was silent for a while, letting Sid's story sink in. Part of him still wanted to grab Sid by the throat and squeeze the life out of him. The other part of him was insisting that everyone – minus a choice few – deserved a second chance. The fact that Sid was even there, was proof that at least his cousin was trying. Trying to keep his temper under control, he picked up the mask from the chair and looked at it for a minute, before shoving it back in his bag.
He knew firsthand what letting his anger fester could do. It was what had gotten him into trouble, the first time Raphael and his brothers had to bail him out 'cause he'd gotten in over his head. Master Splinter was always preaching about not letting anger cloud the mind, but whenever he thought about his father and the Dragons, the anger welled up so quickly inside him he thought he'd choke on it.
Could he turn that rage on family? Even family like Sid? He as pretty sure the answer was a 'no', and he knew that he never wanted to find out if it were possible. He glanced at Sid, and then at the floor, rubbing his hands over his face, trying to work his feelings out without his fists for a change. A snicker threatened to escape at the idea, but he held it back.
He looked back at his cousin, who was slouching into the hard-backed seat, hands tucked into the long, dirty jacket wrapped around him, a look of misery on his face. All those years Sid had been missing, Casey had painted him up in his mind as some big and nasty villain, a head Dragon rep. What was sitting in the hospital chair was so far from his imagination, he couldn't even begin to equate Sid with it. A big, bad Dragon member wouldn't have called his mother to find out his parents contact info. A villain wouldn't have come to the hospital to see if his aunt and cousin were okay.
As he looked at the hunched form of Sid, sitting there as though awaiting some sort of punishment, he felt something inside him wither away, dissolving into nothingness. Try as he might, he couldn't hold onto all of the anger he'd had for the man. Some yes, but not all. He just looked too...pathetic. A very small smile graced his face, and he leaned over and punched Sid in the arm. Hard.
Sid jolted up, rubbing his arm and glowering at him. "What the fuck was that for?" he snarled. "That hurt!"
"Don't be a pansy," Casey said gruffly. "Look, I already told ya, you got a lot of apologies to make. I ain't gonna lie to you – I'm still pissed off at you. I also missed you, you crazy, frigged-up, whackjob, and if you ever, ever run out on the family again, I'm gonna beat you black and blue with my baseball bat. You got me?"
Sid stared at him blankly. "You mean it?"
"That I'll hurt you? Buddy-boy, you'd better ask your ex-pals about whether or not I'm good at handing out pain-"
"No, you idiot." Sid cut him off. "About missing me. Did you mean that?"
Casey gazed at him, and suddenly felt like he was eight years old again, his cousin at his side, the terrible twosome together again, and swallowed the lump in his throat at the thought. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I really did."
Sid smiled weakly at him. "I missed you too, Case-man. Real and true, I did."
"It's about time you came to your senses," said a third voice, much louder then the low tones they'd finished off with. Casey and Sid both whipped their heads around, to see Adelina standing in the hallway, arms folded, a look of affectionate amusement on her face.
Casey jumped to his feet. "Ma, you okay? How are ya feelin'?"
Adelina shrugged. "I was injected with radioactive slime, how do you think I feel?" But she grinned at them, and moved forward. "I feel okay, just tired." She looked at Sid. "It's nice to see you again, Sidney Aluicious Jones."
Sid flushed, and groaned. "Auntie Adie!"
She smirked at him, and then without warning, she delivered a sharp smack to the back of his head. He shouted in surprise, one hand flying to his head to rub away the sting. His eyes were wide with surprise.
"What was that for?"
"For being gone so long," she said sternly. "Now come here."
Still wary, he did as he was told, and she opened her arms. A smile spread across his face, and he launched himself at her, hugging her tightly. Casey watched, amused.
After a minute, Sid pulled back, and looked at her and Casey both. "Thanks," he said solemnly. Casey nodded, and Adelina shrugged.
"You're family kiddo. You may be an ass, but you're the family's ass."
Sid made a face. "Here's hoping that I'll earn a newer, better nickname than that."
"Oh, I dunno," Casey mused. "It has that ring of honesty to it..."
Sid growled and reached out with a swipe of his own. Casey dodged it, and yanked on the hood of Sid's trench coat, pulling him off balance. Sid yelped, and then the chase was on, the two of them wheeling around and racing for the stairs, Casey keeping his lead by virtue of his slightly longer legs, and a year's worth of avoiding April's smacks. They disappeared into the stairwell, their boots smacking against the concrete stairs.
Casey knew his mother would meet him by the car and would probably deliver a few more swats of her own, but the pressure inside him was easing further and further away, and he didn't want to let it go just yet. Maybe he was acting like a big kid, but he couldn't help wanting to. Somewhere inside him, the voice was shouting something about brochures and fantasy's and wishful thinking. He tuned it out.
Sid chasing him reminded him of better, happier times, and he wanted to hold on to that feeling as long as he could. He had a feeling it wouldn't last much longer.
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End Chapter 3
...
Notes: A special thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far! Your comments are always welcomed and appreciated. Just so you know, the only facts that are apparently canon, are the ones involving Casey's grandfather as a train robber, and Casey having a cousin named Sid who was in a gang. Everything else in the time line I've set up here is the product of my own imagination.
Chapter 4 is off to be beta'd. Chapter 5 is 95 complete, and chapter 6 is plotted out. I am ahead of schedule.
If you feel moved in any way, or even if you think I've destroyed the characters you know, well, you know where the review button is.