Chapter 15

February 15

"Good job Tommy, now give me eight-" Frank held up his mitts and let Tommy strike eight against them. "Nice work today." He said clapping the panting fighter on the shoulder. Tommy nodded at him, a weary smile on his face before turning and heading towards the showers.

Tommy turned the shower up to full heat and let the water sooth his aching muscles. It was no use, the tension wouldn't go away no matter how hard he trained in the gym or how hot the water had called that morning, leaving him a long messages about picking Tommy up from the gym and them going to see Pop. Apparently Brendan had found him a live-in program to help him sober up. Tommy felt in hindsight as though he should have been the one to help their dad out, since it was mostly his fault that the old man was back on the bottle again. The ever-present guilt about his words and actions towards his father gnawed at his gut yet again. He sighed, shutting off the water and reaching for a towel.

Brendan was waiting for him in Frank's office by the time Tommy was finished getting dressed. He could see the two of them through the window, laughing about something. Tommy dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket and caught his brother's eye. Brendan quickly said goodbye to Frank and hurried out of the office.

"Hey Tommy, how you been?" he asked, pulling Tommy into a one armed hug.

Tommy awkwardly clapped him on the back "s'been okay, trainin' hard."

"Frank treatin' you alright?" asked Brendan, leading Tommy out to the car and throwing his bag on the backseat.

"Yeah, yeah, he's a good guy- and a good trainer."

"He definitely is," agreed Brendan.

The pair didn't talk much on the way to Pop's house. Tommy knew that the tension from seeing their father again was making him uptight but he couldn't manage to break the silence. All of a sudden he wished Katrina was there, she always seemed to know when he needed her to talk because he couldn't or when he needed someone to listen. He felt himself smiling involuntarily at the memory of Monday night- kissing her on and on until she was breathless. They'd lain together on the couch, the TV on low and she'd fallen asleep in his arms like she was always meant to be there.

"What are you smiling about?" asked Brendan, his voice bringing Tommy back to the present.

"Nothin'" he grunted.

"Sure its nothin'… I know that look."

"What look?"

"That sappy look when you got a crush on a girl."

"What am I, thirteen?"

"You'll always be thirteen to me Tommy." Tommy snorted in disgust and went back to staring back out the window.

"What's her name?" Brendan pressed. Tommy considered telling him to mind his own, but he'd have to tell Brendan sometime if he ever planned on taking Katrina home with him as he fully intended to do.

"Katrina, she's my neighbor."

"Girl next door?"

"Pretty much."

"And?"

"God Bren, I swear if you were any more of a gossip you'd turn into a chick."

Brendan just grinned, "I guess we'll be meeting her soon then." To that Tommy had no answer.

By the time they pulled up at Pop's front door it had started to rain, heavy drops of water pummeling the car and soaking through Tommy's t-shirt in seconds as both brothers ran to the door. They stood shivering on the front porch before Tommy squared his shoulders and knocked three times on the front door. For a long moment there was no answer but they could hear the shuffling of feet as someone approached. The door creaked open and Tommy could see his father's face on the other side. He was struck again by the contrast between the man who had trained him for Sparta and the man before him today.

"Whad'ya want?" the old man asked, voice slightly slurred with drink.

"Can we come in?" asked Brendan.

The door was thrown open and they followed Paddy's retreating back into the kitchen. The house was in an even worse state than when they'd last visited. Persistent damp was starting to stain through the wallpaper and leave dark patches on the ceiling. The kitchen its self was cluttered with unwashed dishes and trash, old whiskey and wine bottles were huddled around the dustbin. The smell was terrible, stale alcohol mixing with old take-out. Brendan coughed, "Pop, what's going on here?"

"Nothin' much son," their father replied, "why'd you come to visit your old man after all this time?"

The brothers looked at each other uneasily, neither knowing quite how to breach the subject. Tommy shifted from foot to foot before beginning, "We were thinkin' you might need a little help Pop."

"Help? What kinda help?" the old man grumbled, taking down a bottle of Johnny Walker and pouring a generous amount into a mug. He offered it to both sons, each of whom refused. Privately Tommy though he could have used a drink right about now.

"Well y'know Pop, maybe to help you get this place cleaned up a bit, cut back on the liquor…" Brendan tried to explain.

Their father rounded on them brandishing the bottle, "I don' need no help of any kind- s'pecially not from you." He clumped off towards the living room, the boys followed.

They sat in silence, words unsaid echoing in their ears the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece the only sound in the room.

"How 'bout if Pop?" asked Tommy, feeling he should at least back Brendan up.

"How 'bout what?"

"Gettin' sober- you had almost a thousand days last time I was here-"

Paddy laughed darkly and poured himself another shot of whiskey. "A thousand days eh? And what good did it do me? One thousand days of apologizin' for what I done to you boys growin' up. One thousand days of tryin' to be a different man, a better father. I give up- you've got no use for me now nowa days."

He sighed and lapsed into silence. "Heard you got a new trainer Tommy, you thinkin' of fightin' again?"

Tommy nodded. "I'm gonna be tryin out of Sparta again."

"That's my boy- never gives up…Theogenes" Paddy smiled vaguely, eyes starting to drift shut. The pride Tommy felt at his father's praise, a remnant of the times when his father had coached him almost all the way to the Olympics faired in Tommy's chest, quickly turning to ash.

"You want to see me fight again Pop?" his father nodded, eyes closed now, he seemed almost asleep.

"Go back on the program then- sober up and we can talk."

"Why." Paddy asked, his voice no more than a rumble, "I thought you liked me better as a drunk?" and he was asleep.

Tommy sat back in his seat with a deep sigh, "Fuck."

"Yeah." Agreed Brendan standing up and draping a blanket over their father.

Tommy rested his head on the palm of his hands, he really just wanted to go to sleep or go for a long run, anything to take his mind off the situation right in front of him. He could feel Brendan's interested gaze on his back, no doubt wondering what their father had meant about liking him better as a drunk.

All of a sudden Tommy just didn't want to deal with it. He rose and strode into the kitchen. Gathering up all the old drink bottles he threw them into a bin-bag and lugged the whole thing outside chucking it with a crash into the front lawn. Then he ran a skink full of hot water and began to wash the piles of dirty cups and plates that were in the skink. The water scalded his hands but he couldn't bring himself to care, a little bit of pain always cleared his head anyway. It was a moment before he realized that Brendan was standing by his side drying up the plates.

"So, what are we gonna do?" Brendan asked finally.

"Dunno… but he's going to that clinic whether he wants to or not."

"He better, I already booked him a place."

"You did?" Tommy looked over at him, surprised.

"Yeah- "

"Without tellin' me?"

"I had to make a start with the paper work Tommy, its no big deal."

"At least let me pay you half for the deposit."

Brendan waved him away, "You don't need to do that Tommy, I got this."

"No I should be the one payin' for this- it ain't your fault the old man's back on the sauce."

"Ain't your fault neither-" protested Brendan.

"Yes it is." Tommy twisted off the faucet and stalked off back into the living room, throwing himself down on the couch Brendan followed, taking the easy chair opposite.

"What do you mean Tommy?" Brendan asked after the silence stretched to breaking point. Tommy didn't reply but got up and started to pace, anger knotting the muscles down his spine. The tinderbox of anger he always harbored towards his father had found a spark to light it.

"All of this is about me and Pop, not you. You never got involved in the past and y'shouldn't try now. I know why you're tryin' to help but payin' for Pop's treatment ain't gonna undo what you did Bren." He ground out, he was too angry now to admit to his own shortcomings, it was easier to take it out on Brendan.

Brendan leapt to his feet, "What are you talking about?"

Tommy stopped pacing a rounded on his brother, "I'm talkin' about you abandoning us, me and Ma, we needed you then not now. Throwin' your cash around ain't gonna bring her back." He growled.

Brendan's jaw clenched in anger as he stepped into the path of Tommy's pacing.

"Fuck you Tommy, I didn't even know she was sick! You kept it from me- that was not your decision to make."

"Yes it was, I was there- you chose the old man over us."

"And what about Tess?" The two brothers stood toe-to-toe glowering at each other.

"What about 'er?" Tommy respected and liked Tess too much to say anything against her- try as he might he couldn't resent her for her part in his brother's abandonment. He dropped his gaze heaving a deep sigh.

"Tommy you know I only stayed for Tess, that was the only reason, I love her you can understand that, can't you?"

Tommy nodded grimly, sitting back down on the couch. "I'm sorry. I shoulda called you, said something." He muttered.

"S'okay- I shoulda told you I wasn't comin' along… shoulda told you I booked Pop into this rehab place."

"I'm still paying half of that y'know."

"How about you owe me?" Tommy raised an eyebrow. "After your first fight you'll get sponsors and then you can pay me back when you have the money."

"Alright- until I have the money…" Tommy nodded in agreement.

They both jumped as a voiced croaked from the corner.

"What's this rehab you've gone and put me in?"

Brendan clenched and unclenched his fists before turning and facing their father who, befuddled by drink was looking surprised to see them.

"Whadda you doin' in my house?" he rasped, hand already groping for the bottle beside the chair, Brendan snatched it up.

"We're here to get you into a program Pop- for the drinking." Their father's face darkened with rage but Brendan held up a hand to stem the torrent of abuse coming his way. "We mean it Pop, its either this or we call APS and have them take you." All the red drained out of Paddy's face, leaving it an ugly ashen, puce.

"Y'woudn't. My own boys?" His voice turned pleading but Brendan was unmoved, he nodded grimly.

"We'll come by tomorrow to pick you up- three o'clock?" Paddy couldn't do anything but sit in shock, gaping at the two of them. Tommy rose from the sofa, padding across the living room. It was strange to him- seeing Brendan and Pop together, the icy hatred Brendan held for their father was really the only ugly side Brendan had, but Pop did have a way of bringing out the worst in everyone.

"You alright with that Pop?" he asked quietly, crouching down so he wouldn't tower over the old man. Tommy would later reflect that where their father was concerned, he and Brendan switched roles, Brendan was the angry messed up one and Tommy had to walk in his brother's peace-keeping shoes for a mile or two. He was sure the experience probably did him a world of good.

"Alright?" Pop asked gazing blearily up into the concerned face of his youngest son, "You're sending me away… my own boys…" he trailed off muttering incoherently.

"It's not far Pop and then you can move back here again- when you've dried out."

"Well I'll be the driest old drunk they ever saw then," mumbled Pop, eyes starting to close. Tommy hiked the blanket higher over his father's chest and stood, glad to get away. Brendan was already waiting at the door to go.

"I can't stand this place." He admitted as the pair walked to the car.

"I can see that." replied Tommy, "you're hard on him you know- I know the old man deserves it but-" Tommy broke off, catching Brendan staring at him.

"Since when did you care about Pop?" his brother asked bitterly.

"Since when did you?"

Tommy said goodbye to Brendan in front of the red-brick apartment buildings. The streetlights were already on, turning the last of the dirty snow bright orange in the half-light. It was a quick goodbye- Tommy knew that Brendan was eager to get back to Tess and the girls, might still be angry about the fight they had earlier and was definitely still angry at Pop. He watched his brother drive away before climbing the stairs up to his apartment.
The place was still slightly damp- maintenance had done a good job draining the floodwater after the storm but the job wasn't done yet. Tommy was still sleeping on the couch until his mattress dried out.

He changed quickly into a pair of worn sweats and collapsed on the couch with a deep sigh, he didn't think he could take many more days like today, dealing with Pop really took it out of him. It was like re-opening an old wound and rubbing salt into it.
He suspected it was much worse for Brendan who'd so long tried to cut himself of from their father for reasons Tommy wasn't quite sure of, the pair hadn't spoken much about life after Tommy and their mother left Pittsburgh but from what Brendan had told him it had been rough. All the same, Pop was getting old, his shouting and drinking days were behind him. I must be getting soft if I'm sticking up for the old man he thought.

He flicked on the TV, scrolling past the news and old western movies that were always on this time of night, finally settling on the highlights of a Formula One race from earlier in the evening. As he watched the cars whizzing around the track his mind wandered back to last night when he and Katrina had done much more interesting things on her couch. He smiled remembering how her lithe body felt under his hands, how she shivered all over with nerves and excitement. It was like kissing a livewire; she was so much stronger than she looked, and so in the moment her hands wandering over his back and under his shirt, her back arching to bring their bodies closer together.

They'd only kissed last night, Tommy hadn't made-out with a girl since high school and he'd started to worry seriously about the possibility of blue-balls, but he knew that this was different. He was different around her, in only a few weeks Katrina knew more about him than almost anyone else in the world, even Bren in some ways. He'd told her more about Manny's death then he'd told even Pilar, then he could ever tell anyone else.

That was what made the difference- Katrina knew his secrets and he couldn't hide behind the hard and indifferent mask that he showed to the rest of the world, the girl was officially under his skin, but Tommy couldn't find it in him to care. Christ you really are getting soft he thought to himself.

Katrina had eventually fallen asleep in his arms; knocked out by the two painkillers he'd made her take. Her tiny, warm body curling into his like a kitten, and he'd wrapped his arms around her. He smiled remembering how her long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. His arms felt empty with out her when he'd finally set her down and left her to sleep, they still felt empty now. You've got it bad he thought, maybe it's not too late to go and see her? Tommy checked his phone for the time, not having a watch. It was ten thirty. Katrina's probably still awake, that he knew what time his neighbor usually went to sleep was slightly alarming, maybe he could just swing by and see how she was doing?

Tommy quickly quashed this idea, hauling himself off the couch and cricking his neck, he should let her sleep especially that injury she'd been carrying last night. He felt a sick squeeze in his stomach as the memory of Katrina's battered feet flashed through his mind; he'd never minded blood before but about seeing her bleed didn't sit well with him at all.

At least with fighting the risks were pretty obvious, Tommy had never thought of ballet as dangerous before but now he guessed it was. It was different, Tommy thought to himself, seeing big guys like Rampage Jackson or Mad Dog Grimes, even his own brother getting beat up, and carried out of the ring, they were meant for that, tough enough to take a beating. Katy was plenty tough herself though, mused Tommy, hard as nails in her own sweet way, even so, seeing her hurt had affected him, more than he'd expected.

A/N oh my goodness that was a doozie- writer's block is kicking my ass right now! Sorry about the wait- hopefully things will get quicker from here (promises promises…) I read and edited this chapter until I thought I was going crazy last night so please let me know if its cr*p! Thanks to LeavesofYanara for pointing out a mistake!

xxx