Note: I own nothing associated with Disney or Ducktales…though that would be pretty sweet. :)

Beagle Without A Mask

Chapter 2

Some alone time for Bigtime…

"So what was that all about?"

Bankjob stood up from the old tattered couch as soon as Bigtime entered the living room, leaving their mother alone to rest, keeping his eyes cast down at the floor while he trudges passed each of his brothers, all of whom look to him expectantly, only to get the cold shoulder

"Well?" Bankjob holds out an arm to block his path. "How 'bout shedd'n some light on what happened just now?" He asks, a hint of envy in his gruff voice.

"It ain't a big deal, okay?" Bigtime mutters, stealing a quick glare up at him. "She just wanted to talk." He goes to shove his arm away. "I'm goin' fer a walk-"

"You ain't gett'n off that easy!" Bankjob grabs a hold of his shirt, pulling him up off of the floor and bringing him eye level. "Ma told you someth'n important! Now what was it?"

Normally in a situation like this, Bigtime would attempt to put up a fight, never partial to being manhandled in such a way. But now, all he can do is hang there, his solemn expression unchanged as he looks on at his fuming brother.

"I told you," he says calmly. "She just wanted to talk, about what our next move will be…she said it'd be a good idea to lay low fer awhile so we don't attract any attention from the cops." He didn't know why he was lying to them, but something in his gut told him they weren't ready to hear that he was going to be in charge anytime soon; the thug holding onto him proved that much. "And I agreed with her-"

"Nice try, Runt." He raises a clenched fist, bearing his teeth. "Now, yer gonna tell me what it was that was so damn important that only you were aloud to hear, and not me!" He clamps a hand around his throat, applying slight pressure. When he struggles to breathe, Bankjob grins at his discomfort. "Or 're you gonna make this more fun, and let me beat it outta ya?!"

Someone holds back his raised arm. He looks over to see Bouncer now at his side. "Let it go, Bank," he says, matching his glare of caution. "Now ain't a good time fer this…not with Ma bein' the way she is."

Bankjob's eyes dart back and fourth between him and Bigtime, who hasn't moved in the goon's iron grip, only doing his best not to struggle at the discomforting lack of oxygen.

Bankjob finally shakes his head. "But it ain't right!" He tightens his grip on the shortest Beagle. "I know Ma, and she told you somethin' about us; about the family-"

"Even if it was somethin' important, Bankjob," Bigtime barks, raising his voice despite wanting to keep his cool. "There's no way I'd tell you anyway!" He forces a smirk. "And ya know why?"

"And why, Little Brother-" Bankjob shoves him up against the closest wall, probably just to get more of a rise out of him "-is that?"

Bigtime's blood begins to boil as he does his best to continue smirking. "Because, I know how much it drives you crazy to not know a secret! Especially when it's one me and Ma have about you-" He's stopped short as the hold on his neck tightens even more, as if Bankjob were actually trying to squeeze the life out of him. He gasps for air while attempting to hold onto the muscular arm in front of him, trying to push him away, but to no avail.

"That's enough Bankjob!" cries Bouncer, he and the others unsure of how to react. "Just...let 'im go!"

Their pleas fall on deaf ears as the shorter Beagle continues to claw at the grip he has on him, all the while forced to see into the eyes of his attacker. The way they burn into him with such hatred was frightening, mainly because he already knew why; their mother wanted him to be in charge, instead of her eldest son. This outburst was a long time coming, finally brought on by her increasing illness. With her bedridden there was no one to stop him from doing what he'd no doubt wanted to do to him since they were kids. Bankjob had never been very good at taking orders, not even from Ma Beagle. The thought of having to do so from someone like him must've been entirely out of the question. He had to be enjoying this…watching his competition squirm in front of him…struggling for life-

A fist suddenly comes in contact with Bankjob's large jaw, throwing him off balance and knocking him down. Bigtime is set free in the process, sliding down the wall onto the wooden floor, taking in gulps of much needed air. His aggressor looks up in a daze to see a fuming Bouncer standing over him.

"I said," Bouncer states shakily, not unclenching his fist just yet. "That's enough."

Bankjob rubs his soar jaw as he gets back on his feet, glaring around the room at the shocked faces looking on at him. He moves in front of the one who'd landed a hit on him, Bouncer doing his best to appear not to be intimidated. The punch obviously wasn't really meant to take him out, only throw him off guard or just get his attention. Obviously it worked, as Bankjob's interest is now on him rather than Bigtime, silent as he glares daggers at him. Eventually, Bankjob just cracks his neck before turning away from him.

His gaze falls on a wheezing Bigtime, the large goon only omitting a low hmph before adding "not like he didn't have it comin'…little smart ass." He raises his voice as he speaks at him directly. "Trust me, runt; if I hadn't uh tried it first, someone else in this room woulda!" He grins again, heading towards the kitchen, stepping over him in the process. "But I sure am glad it was me."

Bigtime can only rub at the pain in his throat while taking sharp breaths, too angry to even open his eyes, not wanting to face the others around him; Bankjob's cruel laugh still ringing in his ears…

"Hey, Bigtime?" Burger's small voice came from somewhere in the room. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Bouncer kneels down beside him, pulling gently on his arm as if trying to coax him back on his feet. "You okay, Boss-"

"Don't call me that!" He shoves the gesture away grudgingly. "I'm fine!" Once back up he heads for the door, grabbing a jacket in the process. "And I don't need yer help, or yer pity! Not from any uh you goons!"

"W-where ya goin'?" Babyface asks quietly.

After opening the door, Bigtime pauses, stealing a fleeting glance back at some of them. "I'm just, gonna…I don't know, go be alone fer a minute, er somethin'," he stammers, still very much shaken. "So don't follow me!"

"Well, when ya comin' back?" asked Baggy Beagle.

They didn't get the answer, though, as he'd already slammed the door fiercely behind him.

He's seething with anger, still breathing deeply as he trudges over the creaky floor boards of the front porch, shoving the jacket over himself, not bothering to button it. He doesn't notice the chill of late October surrounding him as he steps onto the hard ground, crunching the dry autumn leaves under his feet as he does.

He needed to get out of there, as far from any of them as he could possibly get; away from Bankjob, away from Bouncer and Burger…away from his mother. All of them. He was sick of it. But mostly he just needed some time to himself; time to think. That wasn't going to happen the longer he stayed in that miserable shack he called home.

His pace is quick as he reminisces on the day's events, for the first time wishing he was back in a prison cell. He'd never been in one on his own before, always having to share one with at least two of his brothers. He never understood how the Judicial system could be stupid enough to keep putting them all together. It'd be easier to keep them all off the streets if they'd just separate them! It occurred to him how much nicer it would be just to be on his own for once…not having to worry about dragging two or even three dimwitted family members along with him, trying to sneak them out of jail along with himself, only to end up right back where they started; law-breaking failures, thrown back into practically the same damned cell every time!

He often wondered what it'd be like to be on his own in prison, not trying to break out, but to stay there, actually attempting to serve his sentence. And if he did, what then? Maybe get an early parole for good behavior? Probably not. But once he was out-if he got out at all-what would he do with his life? He couldn't really see himself as being a law abiding citizen, not having to constantly duck into hiding every time a police car drove by, or spend every waking second trying to think up new uses for dynamite in order to crack open a certain quadrillionaire duck's money bin.

He'd tried to imagine what his life would've been like if he hadn't gotten mixed up in crime; what kind of job would he have? Did he need to go to college for it? And if so, what would he study for? Would he have a family of his own by now-

This last thought actually made his chest ache. He'd never told anyone, not even his own mother, how much he'd wanted to have a family of his own one day; how he wished there was someone he could actually talk to about something other than bank heists and prison breaks. Another person he could share his life with…a type of soul mate, or something.

But that life wasn't meant to be. No one could ever see him as more than what he was; a thug, a wanted criminal. Just another Beagle Boy.

He slows to a stop in the middle of the woods, growing angrier by the second. He tries to force himself to calm down; to put all these thoughts of self-loathing to the back of his mind. But he can't, only hating his family more…especially his own parents, as it was their fault he was like this in the first place. He didn't know who he despised more right now; Bankjob, for being such a bully when they were growing up, always talking down to him and treating him like he was worthless just because of his size.

Or his mother, who really only thought about what was best for the family as a whole, not for each of them as individuals. Not once did she ever actually talk with any of her children about having future plans; If it involved more crime, or going straight and starting a new life as a completely different person. You'd think the thought of grandchildren might cross her mind, having so many sons and all…not to mention a daughter.

Bonnie Beagle; the only member of the family who got out before it was too late. She'd managed to build a life of her own, regardless of her namesake. She probably had lots of friends, a job, an apartment; the whole package. She might even have a boyfriend, who knew nothing about her brothers' reputations, or her younger years as a destined future criminal-

The sudden thought of the past coming back to haunt his innocent little sister is all it takes to finally drive him over the edge.

The rage building up inside of him guides his fist, taking a swing at a nearby oak tree. It sends a sharp pain up his arm, but he ignores it as he raises the opposite hand to do it again. He does this a number of times with each set of knuckles, causing even more pain to himself, crying out angrily with each hit to the old oak.

Anger finally spent, he leans back up against the tree, holding his throbbing hands over his face, slumping onto the foliage covered ground. He begins to shake uncontrollably as he rocks back and forth in a fetal position, unable to hold the tears back any longer as he breaks down and cries to himself in the middle of the forest.

The wails of pain he omits carry throughout his surroundings. But no one would ever know…as he'd waited until he was out of hearing distance of the others. It'd taken all of his willpower to accomplish this, robbing him of whatever strength he had left just so he could retain his brutish appearance in front of them.

If he lost that, he'd have nothing...

Bigtime had considered heading straight for Duckburg, in search of Bonnie, feeling she deserved to know about Ma. He wasn't really sure how she felt about any of them lately, making her reaction to his sudden late night visit from him a mystery.

He was sure she'd turn him away, though…despite them being family. She had to hate them all, and with good reason. She had every right to, and he'd never hold that against her. Because, honestly…he couldn't really blame her.

With numb hands, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out an old faded photograph, the same one his mother had shown him. He sobs quietly now, studying the image, trying to calm himself;

'Little Bon Bon', as they used to call her when she was a child, is expressing a big smile. Her short brown curly hair is held up by two pink bows on either side of her head, keeping it out of her eyes. She wears a dress of similar color, which also adorns bows here and there. Her big blue eyes are seen clear as day. Unlike her older brothers, she doesn't have to wear the signature 'burglar mask', or placard of numbers on her chest all Beagles are known for. She was too young to understand the concept of breaking the law.

Her eyes aren't looking up at him through the picture, as if returning his gaze. Instead, their focused on the individual holding her up on his burly shoulders, smiling down at him as he gives her a piggy-back ride. Her older brother below her is a much younger Bigtime, looking on at whoever's taking the picture, his eyes behind the trade mark Beagle mask, raising an eyebrow coolly. He gives a smirk as he holds onto his baby sister, not about to let her fall…

He shoves the photo back into his pocket, cradling his head in his crossed arms; how was he going to tell her about everything Ma had said to him? There was no way she'd want to have anything to do with any of them, not like that, no matter what his mother said. And if that we're the case, then he really would have to try and do this all on his own…whether he actually wanted to or not.

He now felt truly alone, but that didn't make him feel any better; not like he'd hoped it would.

Well, there's Chapter 2! Pretty sad, I know. But don't worry, there's some humor coming up eventually in this story! I mean, come on, this is the Beagle Boys we're talkin' about here! So stay tuned…