DISCLAIMER: I definitely do not own Tin Man.
A/N: Bobby Gibbons is animegus farmus' creation, and has graciously allowed me to reference him.
DG
Is Home supposed to feel like a prison? That's rhetorical. DG knows the answer is no, but she seems to be the only who feels trapped in Hilltop. Everyone else is apparently fine with living in the same small town working the same jobs and seeing the same people day in and and day out. To her it's like she's holding her breath, waiting, knowing there's something more to life than this. It feels like she's been holding her breath forever. She wants to get out of this town, this boring existence and see the world: visit Paris and spend the entire day touring the Louvre, travel to Australia and explore the Land Down Under. Heck, at this point she'd be happy just to get out of the damn state of Kansas where the most exciting thing to happen was the weather during Tornado Season-anything to escape this banal existence.
It's not like she's got much of a reason to stay, beyond her parents. She's friendly with the other waitresses, but she doesn't really consider any of them friends and Carter is pretty ambivalent about her, unless he's getting on her case about something. She's pretty sure Gulch would be pleased to see the back of her. She knows he considers her to be a pest, but the feel's mutual. And most of her classmates are away at actual Universities and Colleges while DG takes one class at a time at the local community college, because that's all that she can really afford. She's pretty much a loner and a dreamer, as Momster says, with her art and her motorcycle to keep her entertained. That's why she's saving her pennies for a ticket. She's not sure where to, yet, but it doesn't matter, because she's barely got more than forty bucks set away (between tuition, gas and maintenance on the bike, the tickets she racks up from Gulch, and the art supplies, she doesn't have much left). She's gonna get out of here one day.
The one thing working at the only diner in town has going for it, is that Hilltop is common stop for refueling both vehicles and their travelers, so DG's got one of the best opportunities to meet new people and charm them long enough that they leave a better than average tip. She likes their stories and their accents and pretends sometimes that she could just hop aboard with them when they leave. She'd even send postcards from where ever she ended up back to her parents, instead of sitting at her desk at home, drawing up fake ones of far away. In the reality, though, she settles for the change left on her tables after the diners leave.
She takes turns with the other women waiting on new parties, because DG apparently isn't the only one hoping to see a fresh face from time to time and a chance to make a bigger buck from a stranger. She just happens to luck out on the rotation when new pair trudge in one rainy night. An extremely handsome blond man and his good looking son grab a booth, looking tired...well, the man looks plain worn out and the teenager's just grumpy-travel weary, probably. She can't actually empathize with them, but she understands the tediousness that seems to radiate around them and tries to be a little more upbeat than normal for their sake.
She visits their table more than strictly necessary, because the diner's full and it's only her and Phoebe and she wants them to have a good impression, despite the wait time. Turns out it's a good thing she manages to tease a smile out of the kid, because Jeb (the teenager) and Wyatt (the dad) Cain are the newest additions to their community. (That's probably the most exciting thing that's happened around here since Bobby Gibbons nearly got arrested during their Senior year.) She'll be seeing a lot more of them. She almost feels bad for the kid, but she really likes the generous tip Mr. Cain left, and hopes at least that keeps up.
Jeb comes into the diner alone a week later, practically dragging himself to a stool at the counter with a large frown on his face. New kid blues, probably. The Cains have been the talk of the town since they've moved in and DG can only imagine how weird it must be for Jeb to try to fit in somewhere new in the middle of the semester.
Evie's busy, so DG gets him, again. "Hi! What can I get you? Malt? Soda?"
He looks up at her suggestions and cocks his head flicking his eyes from the menu board behind her to her face. "What's a malt?" he asks in his Southwestern drawl.
She shrugs loosely. "'s like a milkshake made with malted powder. Good for dipping your fries in."
His brows furrow together in confusion. "Dipping your fries in?" he repeats, leaning back in disgust.
"Sure!" DG laughs at his expression. At least he's not completely frowning anymore. She's gotten him to smile once, she'll do it again. She shifts her weight to lean one hand on the counter, like she's gonna tell him a secret. "Everyone here does." She pauses to let that sink in before her lips twist into a smirk. "Wanna try it?" she dares.
Jeb looks at her for a minute like he thinks she's pulling his leg, then lifts his chin up in challenge. "Sure," he agrees with his own smirk.
She's glad she's managed to goad him out of his funk and lets her expression settle into a more natural smile. If there's anything she's learned about teenage boys is that they hardly ever give up a dare, no matter how small or dumb or innocent. "What flavor?"
Hazel eyes go back to the board for a moment. "What's your favorite?" he asks.
DG doesn't even have to think about it. "Strawberry malt with fresh dropped fries." Still shiny from the grease and nearly piping hot. When she's feeling bold, she'll sprinkle Cajun seasoned salt on them, too. But one step at a time for the new kid.
He lifts his chin with the tiniest little half smirk still lingering. "Bring it," he challenges.
She put in his order and checks on her other tables. Mrs. Kitnul's in the corner with her soup and tea and a million crackers and Officer Wainwright's lemonade needs refreshing, but other than that, it's pretty quiet for her. After she brings the old cop another full glass she returns back to Jeb who has managed to look frowny again.
"So what's with the long face?" she asks casually.
His shoulders lift and then drop. "Nothin'."
"Being the new kid?" she guesses.
Jeb tugs on his left ear. "I guess," he agrees quietly, looking a little embarrassed.
She leans her forearms on the counter, a little kitty-corner from him. "Feel like an outsider, huh? Like you don't belong?" Like recognizes like, after all. Just like Momster says. The blond boy doesn't say anything, but she catches him peeking at her. She offers a consolatory smile, but doesn't give him meaningless platitudes and empty promises. Instead she tells him, "I'm here if you ever wanna talk."
They don't actually end up talking about that, but he likes the fries and malt.
(It feels good to kinda connect with someone.)
He comes back days later to try the chocolate malt and fries and after that, the vanilla. DG's pretty sure she's gonna get him hooked. She likes Jeb, despite the fact they don't know each other too well. They're friendly enough with each other when he comes by the diner-he's starting to become a regular-but they don't have a lot of time for deep and meaningfuls between Carter's eye on her back all the time and Jeb's lack of sharing unless directly asked. He mostly keeps her company in the dead hours of the middle of the afternoon while he has a snack and works on his homework. Still, they find a few things in common. His sarcasm is a good match for hers and he's got good enough taste to drool after her bike when he finally sees it, and he doesn't treat her like a piece of meat just because she's female. He's a good guy. So it completely baffles her why he doesn't seem to make any friends at school. Maybe he's just a loner, like her. Kindred spirits and all that hooey.
A month goes by when Jeb runs out of paper for his homework and an offer from DG to get him more paper from her personal stash turns into an invitation from Jeb to hang out at the Cains' and play Xbox, which extends to dinner when Mr. Cain comes home. For the first time in a long time, DG has a friend.
Wyatt. Two Weeks Later
He was glad his boy was starting to build a social life in their new home, but Wyatt almost forgot how much trouble his boy could actually get up to, given the opportunity. Jeb had always been better at getting away with something far more than any child had a right to be, let alone one of a cop, which was probably why Wyatt hadn't actually caught him as much as he suspected his offspring to be up to something. Still, it was nice to know he hadn't lost his edge as he waited for his missing son, at home in the dark.
The latch snicked open. Wyatt looked at his watch. 1:36am.
"Hello, son." He turned on the end table lamp to reveal Jeb frozen in the open doorway, caught in the act of sneaking in. "I hope whatever made you late for curfew by three and a half hours was worth it."
Jeb slumped. He knew he was majorly grounded. "How long?"
"Three and a half weeks," Wyatt answered. "No cell, no games, no computer."
Shock flew over his son's face. "Dad, my homework!" he protested.
Wyatt shook his head and crossed his arms. "You got computers in the library at school," he reminded his boy. "And speaking of: you're only driving there and back. Nowhere else."
Unconsciously, Jeb's gaze cut quick in the direction across the street. "The diner?" he ventured cautiously.
Wyatt took a quiet moment to consider the request (it might be petty, but he wasn't above watching his son squirm when he was obviously in trouble). Jeb deserved his punishment, but Wyatt was well aware that his boy hadn't had the best or easiest of times making friends since they'd moved here. The younger man had mentioned one pickup basketball game after school, but so far that'd been it. And for Jeb, who had been pretty popular at his old school, Wyatt knew that it was hard on him. The diner and DG had basically been his refuge in Hilltop.
"Assumin' you got your own money...you can walk," the elder Cain conceded. After all, the diner was only across the street. He held out his hand and didn't miss the odd mixture of sullenness and relief as Jeb slapped his cell into his father's palm before going to his room and after a moment of rustling, returned to the living room to drop off his keyboard and mouse in a tangle of wires on the couch. Wyatt gazed down at it for a moment before tilting his face up to look back to the young man. "And the wireless set," he prompted, smirking at Jeb's scowl. If Jeb thought he had forgotten the other set, he was sorely mistaken.
Jeb stalked back to his room and reappeared again, dumping the wireless keyboard and mouse with the first set, before shutting himself into the room for the night.
"Don't be late getting up in the morning!" Wyatt warned through the door, before locking up for the night.
DG. The Next Day
Jeb was reticent at the counter of the diner as he listlessly ran his fries through what was ostensibly the chocolate malt that DG had set before him earlier, but in reality was a goopey, syrupy brown mess on his plate.
She watched him with barely disguised worry. While he wasn't the reserved teen he'd been when he'd first arrived to Hilltop with his father, he was almost...mopey (at least for a Cain). He'd been a bit more fidgety as well, as if he was physically restraining himself for reach for the pocket where his wallet was stashed.
"Hooookay," DG sighed as she plopped down on the stool next to him once the place has quieted down enough to have a private conversation. "What's wrong?"
The blond visibly stilled at her question, but stayed silent, merely dragging his fries through the puddle on his plate. DG out-waited him easily, however, and in a few moments' time he huffed out a sigh. "I got caught comin' in after curfew, last night, so now I'm basically grounded for three and a half weeks."
She wrinkled her nose in sympathy. "Yeouch. How late were you?"
"Three and a half hours," he admitted.
"Geeze! What were you doing out so late?"
"Nothing!" he insisted a little forcefully, tossing down his fry. "I was literally out doing nothing!" He let out a breath, before picking up another fry and stirring it in the mess again. "In a few week's the anniversary they found my mom," he reluctantly mumbled.
DG sat back a little stunned. She and Jeb had become much closer over the time he'd been there, but so far, all she'd heard of Mrs. Cain was that she'd been the fatal victim of a car accident-a hit and run-before the Cains had moved to town. Neither Jeb nor his father talked about her much.
"Oh..."
He hadn't even been looking at her then, except what DG suspected was only from his peripheral vision, but turned away at her soft response, shoulders slightly hunching in.
She struggled with the approach to take. While they'd undoubtedly had grown closer, Jeb was still a bit aloof at times, on certain subjects and didn't really seem to deal with casual touches like most people did. And yet his entire countenance basically screamed for a hug, or a least an arm slung around the shoulders. Hesitantly she placed a hand on his forearm. "If you ever need to talk..." she offered again.
She was no psychology major, but she'd been told more than once she was a good listener.
Jeb shrugged, but it wasn't a move to dislodge her. "Thanks," he muttered half-heartedly.
The wind was whipping through the hair not under her helmet as DG sped down the familiar stretch of Kansas highway. Behind her, but catching up was the equally familiar sound of police sirens as Officer Gulch was once again pushing pedal to the metal to catch up to the local speed demon.
Static crackled in her ear as the walkie talkie headset came into range. "Deege...Deege, can...hear me?" Jeb's voice nearly shouted.
She pressed the response button on the motorcycle's handle and replied. "I hear you."
"You wanna hurry it up then?" Jeb laughed over the line. "He's catchin' up."
"Not for long," DG promised. "You ready?"
Jeb's smirk was audible. "Let's see whatcha got!"
DG grinned behind her helmet and flipped the switch to the throttle, gunning the engine and taking off at a higher rate of speed than the KDOT intended for vehicles to ever go. Not for the first time was she thrilled that she'd made friends with the young man who became the newest addition to their little town since he and his retired sheriff father had moved here. Jeb might've been a few years younger than her, but DG had never let that bother her when she served him in her section one day at the cafe. Finding out that he had an interest in engines had been like discovering a hidden treasure as he basically drooled over her bike parked in front of his seat at the window and they'd spent the majority of their acquaintance and then friendship upgrading the bike and Jeb's truck.
And as always, they just *HAD* to test the new modifications. What was the point otherwise? Gulch was just too much of a stick in the mud and a little too serious about his job to see that. But half the fun recently was to see how much faster they could beat the local cop and to catch up with each other.
Jeb's rusty red Toyota with the tailgate down came in to view and DG took a deep breath before giving the warning. "Incoming."
"Bring it."
"Keep going." DG let the motorcycle gain a little more speed before saying a quick prayer and popping the front wheel hard enough to catch on the low gate and pull the bike up. She nearly ran into the cab and in all honesty, probably put a tiny dent in it before cutting the gas and kicking the stand down. She was off the cycle in the next moment to pull up the tailgate and then bang on the roof of the truck. "Go!" she shouted as Jeb sped forward.
The raven haired girl held on until she got her equilibrium and then reached for the preplaced clamps and locked her bike into the bed.
The low local billboard was on their right and Jeb swung sharply behind it, nearly knocking DG off her feet and killing the engine. She knew the drill though and hopped out the back as the passenger door was opened and slid in.
They both held their breath as the sirens grew closer and then upon them...and then past them.
"Awesome!" DG cried as she raised her hand for a high five. Jeb returned it with a grin.
"You know it's gonna take him less than thirty seconds to figure it out," the blond young man said, as he turned the truck back on and pulled around closely to the other side of the billboard to face the road before putting the car in reverse and keeping his foot on the brake.
"Even less," DG insisted, having a better handle on Gulch. The squeal of tires could be heard as the word had barely left her mouth, and she smiled at her friend as he shook his head.
The squad car's warning again drew close and as soon as Gulch had passed the sign, Jeb took his foot off the brake and reversed around the billboard before throwing the truck into drive and heading back onto the road and towards Hilltop Cafe, DG's work.
They made it far earlier than the officer and parked around the back of the row of apartments across the street where the Cains resided and walked to the restaurant.
"DG," Carter greeted from the kitchen window as they walked in. "How come you're always on time when you don't have ta work?"
DG rolled her eyes but basically ignored him as the pair made their way to the counter. Apple pie with a big slice of cheddar was on her mind right now and not much else.
Just as she was ordering (and Jeb was currently having a debate on her left, between the BLT or chicken soup-not having eaten his entire way down the menu yet), the bell over the front door rang and a second later the empty spot on her right was filled with a cup of coffee, followed by a familiar yellow slip.
"Cute, DG," Gulch said, clearly not impressed with her antics.
Jeb snickered until the officer caught sight of him too.
"Wonder what your dad'd say to seein' you have one of these," the older man said, as he handed the blond a ticket as well.
So far, Jeb hadn't been in any official trouble because of her and DG had kept it that way for a reason. Jeb's dad being a former law enforcer and currently poised to take on an empty slot at the Sherriff's office was something that had held a bit of tension in the household whenever DG came over to visit Jeb because the gossip in a small town was quick to go around and while DG wasn't actually a wild child, she'd been on the more annoying side of the department than not.
She sighed and was in the middle of her famous "Guuuuuuulch"es when Wyatt Cain's voice broke over the sound.
"Wouldn't be very impressed."
DG whirled around to see her friend's father hand on said friend's shoulder, with said father looking distinctly disappointed in his son.
Jeb's shoulders automatically hunched. And DG could see all of a sudden why Wyatt Cain had been as good at his job as his son described. "Come on, Jeb. We're going home." The older Cain nodded to Gulch. "He'll be paying his ticket."
Gulch nodded back.
DG winced and mouthed 'sorry' to Jeb, who took it in stride as he stood to leave with his father.
Mr. Cain's warning of "aiding and abetting a criminal" could be heard as DG whirled around to glare at her old nemesis. "Why do you have to ruin everything?" she hissed.
"Why can't you follow the law?" Gulch replied, serenely sipping his coffee.
"I'll take that pie to go, Phoebe," DG told the woman behind the counter. "I've suddenly lost my appetite." She slapped a five on the counter and crumpled up the ticket before jamming it in her pocket and accepting the styrofoam container. "Keep the change." She marched out the door and across the street.
Her bike was still in the back of Jeb's truck and she needed to get it if she didn't want to walk home. She risked a glance at their apartment before heading for the truck and mentally weighed her options. She was going to need a hand or a plane to get the bike out of the truck. The usual plan of the three of them getting the bike out didn't seem to be an option right now as Gulch had just turned her into persona non grata at the Cain household. Sighing, she opened the bed to hop up and start unstrapping the bike.
The apartment door opened and Mr. Cain stepped out. DG felt her stomach drop. She swallowed.
He walked slowly to the truck and leaned his arms on the bed rails before he spoke. "My son's old enough to be pickin' his own friends. And I trust his judgment, he's a smart boy. But I'm worried if he's making friends that are gonna end up in jail."
"Mister Cain, I wasn't trying to get Jeb in trouble, honest. It's just…"
"It's just he's a teenager DG," he cut in. "He's seventeen and he's friends with a daredevil, who happens to be a girl. An older girl. He's gonna do anything to keep up and impress you. And Jeb's competitive: if he seems you pullin' a stunt, he's gonna try ta top it," Cain said as he casually undid the buckle to the strap nearest him. "I just don't want him taking it too far someday and head into something he can't come back from. He's all I got left." He looked directly at her with those ice blue eyes. "I'm sure your folks got the same worries."
"'m sorry," DG muttered, feeling uncharacteristically cowed.
Cain came around pulled himself into the bed. "Let's get this thing outta here."
It took the two of them longer than usual, but DG didn't say a word and Jeb's father seemed to have things well in hand. The bike was little heavy, but Cain Sr. had a good grip and arms and shoulders made for lifting.
Once they got it down she turned to him. "I am sorry Mister Cain," she repeated sincerely. She certainly hadn't meant to get her friend in trouble and hadn't even thought about Jeb being the only thing left for dad. The older man seemed so quiet and reserved, but she'd mainly chalked it up to his stoic personality. He had to be lonely, losing his wife. She promised in the future to be more careful.
Cain nodded and watched as she put on her helmet and took off.
It was nearly a week before DG saw her friend again. Jeb had been sitting on the terrazzo in front of the Cains' door, reading the paper as she rode in for work. She was over half an hour early and had been meaning to see if she could sneak in some extra time, but decided to catch up with the teen instead upon noting the lack of Mr. Cain's truck. "Hey," she greeted carefully after shutting off the bike.
Jeb lifted his chin and darted a glance to her before returning to the newspaper's classifieds section. "Hey."
"Your dad mad?"
"Yeah," Jeb sighed as she sat to join him. "I'm grounded until I can get a job to pay that stupid ticket."
Now she really felt bad. Hiring wasn't a specialty of Hilltop until harvest time or someone died.
This was all Gulch's fault.
"That sucks," she offered. "You could try seeing if anything in Hardy is hiring."
"It'd be easier if this damn place actually had an e-version of the paper or anyone here posted to Craigslist," he grumbled.
She had nothing to add to that but an apology. "Sorry I got you in trouble. And that Gulch had to be such a jerk about it."
Jeb grunted in agreement and DG suspected he wasn't really in the mood for company.
"I'll see if anyone at the diner is hiring," she told him as she rose, returning to her bike.
"Yeah," he replied. "See ya."
"Bye."
Wyatt. One Month Later
Elmer Gulch pointed out the men in the station as he named them. "David Kreeson, Ryan Watts, Noah Wainsworth."
Wyatt nodded to each man in turned as they waved. Elmer chuckled and pitched his voice to carry. "You've already met feisty Mrs. Cooper."
"I heard that, Elmer Gulch!" Gloria yelled back from her secretary desk in the front, making the men smile.
Gulch continued. "Clint used the desk facing mine, so I guess that's yours now."
Wyatt lowered himself to his chair, glad to finally be back at work. The Sherriff's satellite office might not be as busy or as big as the precincts he'd grown used to in the South, but it was much better than slowly losing his mind for lack of work.
The majority of the shift passed quietly in the office, giving Wyatt time to aquaint himself with the way things were done. In the afternoon he partnered with Gulch to patrol. They barely started the car when the CB crackled. "Nine-Oh-Three-Delta-Gamma," the dispatcher said.
With a lusty sigh, Elmer put the car in gear as Wyatt raised a brow as he heard his partner mutter under his breath, a familiar name catching his ear.
"DG?" he queried, unsure he'd heard correctly. At Elmer's nod, Wyatt frowned. "She's got her own code?"
"Yep," Gluch breathed out, sounding resigned but not surprised. "Used to be a little more of a hell raiser in her teens, trying to out-do and one up one of the other kids around here. Ended up setting up the code sometime when she was eighteen or so-ish, kinda as a joke, but it stuck because we ended up using it more often."
They reached the call point, a rundown looking barn that that stood by itself among fields of corn.
"This isn't DG's work," Gulch stated after several minutes of investigating the scene.
"You mean the 'DG wuz here' doesn't tell you that?" Wyatt joked, referring to the blue spray painted letters on the inside of the barn.
The other man snorted. "Or the fact that the lock's busted by an amateur and there's two trails leading in, and none of 'em are DG's Triumph?" he chuckled, playing along. The younger man shook his head. "Nah, girl's done a lot of dumb stuff-no doubt-but she's not this sloppy, and she's not ever this destructive." He shrugged. "I'd say it'd more likely be the Gibbons boy, if Bobby weren't already off to college. Probably one of the highschoolers trying to relive glory tales. We'll see if Kreeson and Watts can get a shake down, they both have connections to some of the kids."
"What kind of glory tales are we talkin' here?" Wyatt asked once they were back in the squad car headed to the office.
He had the disadvantage of not knowing all the small town stories that colored and flavored the next stupid stunt a younger generation would try, and he was determined to catch up to keep a better look out for teenage trouble.
Elmer Gulch lifted one shoulder easily. "DG and Bobby Gibbons had kind of a casual rivalry when they were younger, goin' after one another. Used to be a pain in my neck when I came on."
The rest of the shift was spent discussing DG's long history with Elmer Gulch and giving Wyatt valuable insight one just what kind of girl his son was hanging out with. She apparently wasn't just another pretty face.
The apartment was empty when he got in from. Signs of his son having been home earlier were evidenced by what was missing-namely last night's leftovers and Jeb's game station-more than what he had left there: a note on the kitchen table.
At DG's
Satisfied with that, Wyatt continued with his own routine. He didn't start worrying until 10pm. Jeb was a big boy but it was a school night. Around the time he decided to call the Geares', the phone rang.
"Hey dad," Jeb greeted. "I'm gonna chill over here tonight."
"Her folks okay with that?" He'd been sure the first time his son had spent the night with DG, those two had been up to something, but the kids' friendship had never turned into anything more and neither one had any interest in that route, apparently. He had no problem with his son spending the night away from home as long as it wasn't a burden to his host.
"Yeah," Jeb agreed. "DG's mom already made supper and her dad asked if I wanted to catch a tv marathon with them."
"You got school in the morning," Wyatt pointed out.
"I know. I've got my bag with me."
"What about clothes?"
"I'll come home to change before class," his son assured.
"Homework?"
"I'll get it done, Dad," came the exasperated reply. Wyatt just see the slouch in his boy that usually accompanied that tone.
"See that you do. I'll curb extra-curriculars if grades are dropping."
"Dad..."
He hadn't that particular whine in a while, but was firm. "I mean it, Jeb. Homework, or there won't be any more hanging out or video games."
"Fine," his son sighed while still sounding curt. He'd gotten that from Adora. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night, Jeb. I better not hear of you sleeping in class tomorrow," Wyatt warned.
"Bye, Dad," Jeb growled before hanging up.
Wyatt replaced the phone and made a mental note to have talk with his boy about respect when he saw him again.
Jeb is in for a treat. Hank has convinced him to watch a Firefly marathon.