The crunch of tires up the driveway surely meant Randy and company were home. There was a slight chance it was Mr. Adderson off work early, though it was highly unlikely. The Adderson patriarch himself couldn't remember the last time he'd left work on time, let alone early. Four car doors slamming confirmed Dani's suspicions. Incessant chatter grew louder as her brother and his friends made their way inside. Only three sets of footsteps preceded the front door closing.

"Where've you been?" Dani asked boredly, catching the boys just as they entered the den. No doubt aiming to get into the liquor cabinet. Randy was flanked by David and his little brother Tommy all three looking unkempt. Their fearless leader was nowhere to be seen. Not the crew she'd expected; Tommy was all of thirteen, maybe fourteen. Odd they had willingly let him tag along.

Randy stopped, looking at her unenthusiastically, "Don't worry about it." He sure liked to act tough in front of his friends, as if they weren't also her friends. Any opportunity to assert authority like he ran the show he'd jump on. Even if it was as simple as being snarky to his little sister. He'd never step up when it counted, though. Randy was a follower and always would be. She decided to let the attitude slide as they shut the door in her face.

Crossing through the foyer and out the front door, she suspected she would find their missing counterpart. Bob sat on the front steps staring blankly ahead. Descending the stairs Dani nearly gasped at the sight of him. He looked like he'd been plucked out of a crime scene; her stomach sank at the realization he most likely had. His hands were red, his knuckles raw and bruising. Blood was caked onto his rings; the diamonds adorning his grandfather's ring looked like rubies. It didn't take much to piece together that the blood splattered on the front of him was not his own. Outside of a rumble, she'd never seen him this disheveled.

Wordlessly she sat down beside the older boy. His left hand held a flask, as of late he never left the house without it. In his right hand, a cigarette. That should have been the most surprising aspect here. Bob rarely smoked, socially for the most part. Of all the boundaries he loved to push, he had enough respect for Mr. and Mrs. Adderson not to smoke inside their home. Truthfully, he'd just needed a moment to himself away from the boys.

Dani's presence was, surprisingly, welcomed. Bob found comfort in it that he hadn't realized he'd needed. Typically, Dani commanded any room she was in. Charming. Fearless. Wild. Smart. Unlike her brother, she always knew what she wanted and stopped at no means to get it. Never in her life had she stepped back and let anyone tell her what to do. In almost every way she was Bob's mirror image. Two pages of the same book. Both were second-born in prominent families, striving to outshine their perceived perfect older brothers. Starving for attention from parents that were far too busy with anything else. They shared a bond deeper than most realized and had for a very long time.

The ash at the end of his cigarette began to curl as it burnt down. Slowly flaking off, falling down at his feet. The blonde hadn't seen him take a single drag, it was more of a prop than anything. Bob's arms rested on his knees. It took a keen eye to notice the slight tremor in his hands. The adrenaline that had surged through his veins was now dissipating. Expelling itself in tiny involuntary tremors. After a few more quiet moments Dani reached over, taking the half-burned cigarette from his hands. There was no resistance. It hung so loosely between his fingers she was sure any second it would fall and burn a hole in his pants. No use in wasting the whole thing.

The motion seemed to break whatever trance he was in, and he threw a sideways glance at his companion, "Smoking's bad for you," He said flatly, taking a swig from his flask. The intended sarcasm wasn't missed.

"So is drinking," She retorted, taking another puff off the cigarette. He gave a slight nod. Touche. One more drag and she passed the smoke back. In turn, he offered up his half-empty flask, which she gladly accepted.

Worry brewed inside of Dani the longer they sat here in a deafening silence. She didn't want to pry but was curious about what had happened. A fight undoubtedly, how fair of a fight was debatable. Picking fights and jumping greasers was par for the course. Bob and Randy were known for it; that much wasn't a secret. There were a lot of bad folks on the other side of town who caused a lot of harm. Roughing them up wasn't really that big of a deal. It was probably the least trouble a hood would get into all day.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder how the other guy faired. The assumption is it was a single person. Based on the appearance of Randy and the others, a pair was unlikely. The four of them would have still come out on top, even with little Tommy in tow. Though they'd be a bit worse for wear. Based on Bob's appearance, you couldn't be sure. Her mind wandered, envisioning her own scenarios for what had happened. What did this hood do to provoke them? Was it random? Maybe some greaseball was giving Tommy trouble at school, and that's why he got to tag along. How long was he thrown around like a rag doll? Did Randy stand idly by? Was he right there in the action? Getting in blows where ever he could or maybe holding the guy still. How many times did Bob's fist connect with flesh? She wasn't sure he could even come up with a number. When they left the greaser probably looked more like hamburger meat than a person. There's not a shot he made it out fully intact. Certainly, the damage from Bob's rings would result in some scarring. A thick ugly badge of dishonor he'd carry around forever. She grimaced to herself at the thought of it.

"Are you okay?" Her words were soft, barely audible. He didn't respond. Momentarily she thought he hadn't heard her until he let out a long sigh. Dani scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder.

The flask met the teenager's lips once more. Taking one last draw, he emptied the container before discarding it beside him. The tremoring had subsided, at the very least calmed to the point it was unnoticeable. Dani listened as his breathing became easier and more shallow, "He deserved it, ya know," It wasn't clear if he was trying to justify his actions to her or himself.

Nonetheless, Dani raised her head to look at him. He'd laced his fingers together that far-off gaze was now focused on his hands. Hands that had done far more damage than he'd known one person could, "I know," She agreed gently, delicately placing a hand over his.

"They're bad people, Dani," For the first time Bob met her eyes. A complicated mix of emotions covered his face, and that fearless facade dropped only for a moment. He could bare his soul to her so easily it scared him, "All of them, and they get what they deserve."

His eyes were wild and dangerous. From the day he was born, Bob was pushing limits, testing boundaries. Daring someone to stop him, or tell him no. No one ever did, and they never would. Sometimes, momentarily, he wished anyone would attempt to hold him responsible for his actions. Just to feel what it was like to hit the limitation of this power he wielded. Any effort was quickly squashed by that trademark Sheldon charisma. A skill he'd mastered by kindergarten. If that didn't work he'd follow in dear old Dad's footsteps and throw money at it. For the right price, anything could go away. It was intense realizing Bob could quite literally get away with murder if it came down to it. Today very well could be the day to cash that check.

He wasn't sure what was more worrisome: the fact he could jump anyone without fear of repercussion, or that he could dole out a beating, unwarranted, so easily. By no means was this his first time. In fact, he'd lost count of how many jumpings he'd been part of. He wasn't even thirteen the first time his brother, Rich, let him tag along. The older Sheldon was reluctant at first. His friend, Paul Holden, had persuaded him.

"Let little Bobby tag along. He needs to learn." Paul had said, ruffling Bob's hair. You could see the scowl on his face a mile away. He'd be thirteen in two weeks. He wasn't a little kid anymore and didn't appreciate being treated as such.

Rich was still hesitant. His idea of a good time didn't involve a tag-along little brother, but his friend had a point. Bob was in middle school now, and he did need to know how to keep these dirtbags in check.

"Fine," Rich said with a sigh, "We have room without Curtis anyhow."

"Where is Curtis?" Henry, another of Rich's flunkies, asked.

"Had to get a part-time job or something." Rich all but rolled his eyes, the disgust dripping from his words. Darry was a good enough guy and a great football player. The guys all liked him, but he wasn't one of them. Rich felt like he was the only one who remembered that most time.

Five of them piled into Rich's car. Little Bob shoved in the middle of the back seat, Henry to his left, Don to his right. He was happy to come along but knew better than to show too much excitement. It was about time they stopped treating him like some dumb kid. A flask was in rotation before they'd even left the driveway. Henry reached right over Bob, passing the container to Don. Bob's eyes followed it, and Don picked up on that pretty quickly. Don took a swig and, as discreetly as possible placed the flask in Bob's hands. He was one of the guys today, might as well be treated as such. Bob looked at the older boy, unsure if this was a trick. Don gave a slight nod, but put a finger to his lips. It'd be their secret. Bob brought the container to his lips quickly, taking a drink far bigger than he should have. The amber liquid burned his throat, but he knew better than to make a peep and give himself away. The last thing he wanted was for Rich to regret letting him join. Just as quickly as he'd given it up, Don took it back, passing the flask to Paul in the passenger seat.

"Greasers need to be taught respect," Rich said, looking in the rearview mirror and meeting his brother's eyes, "And we're obligated to teach them."

Agreeance was rumbled from the rest of the group, all adding their two cents.

"They've got no morals,"

"Tarnishing the name of our city,"

"Lowlives,"

"White trash,"

"Rob you with no hesitation just to get their next fix,"

On and on they went about how awful people were on the other side of town. Nothing new or profound these were the same things Bob had heard all his life from his father and his father's father.

As they drove on Bob silently listened to the teens recount the run-ins they'd had like old men swapping war stories. Like they'd gone through hard-fought battles and lived to tell the tale. The more they talked, the louder they got. The louder they were, the more excitement vibrated through the vehicle. They'd long crossed over to the other side of town. Sizable houses with lush lawns and beautiful gardens faded to smaller run-down homes. Missing shudders, broken railings, fences with missing boards, rough gravel driveways, some even completely abandoned and boarded up. It was lost on the young boy how anyone could actually live like this.

The farther in they got, the slower the car crept on. Stalking slowly for their prey. Once they neared the park it didn't take long to find a target. A boy with brown hair slicked back so much it looked like a helmet sitting atop his head. He was none the wiser until it was too late, and the low rumble of the engine was right next to him. A glance over his shoulder and he was met with five sets of hungry eyes. Fear flashed across his face for a moment, but he knew his fate was set. He'd never get away if he tried to run. There was no one else around to call for help. Instead, he took the last draw of his cigarette, flicking the butt right towards Rich as the socs surrounded him. Not a wise choice as it earned him a right hook instantaneously.

Bob had ambled out of the car quickly but stood back for the most part. There wasn't much room for him, anyways. He watched as the boys took turns delivering blows. The greaser had tried his best to fight back, though it did nothing but tire himself out quicker. He'd managed to slug Paul a good one. He paid for that tenfold. Don and Henry eventually held the greaser still as Rich and Paul took turns doing their worst. They more so had to hold him to keep him upright.

"C'mon Bobby," Paul called breathlessly, his arm outstretched. As soon as Bob was close enough, he clapped a hand on his shoulder pulling him in.

"You know how to throw a punch," Rich encouraged. Truth be told Bob hadn't been in many fights short of horsing around with his brother and friends. Rich had been sure to teach him how to defend himself, in case he needed it.

Any uncertainty Bob had quickly vanished when the greaser raised his head and snapped, "Fuck you," with his last ounce of energy spitting at the boy. In his life, Bob had never thrown a punch so hard.

Today hadn't been much different from that day so many years ago. The dark-haired boy they'd rolled up on couldn't have been more than 16 if that. He was small, and from what Bob could remember of him in school quiet. If his greasy hair was any longer those shaggy bangs would have completely covered his big puppy dog eyes. He'd barely had time to register what was happening before he was surrounded. The four socs laughed, taunting his futile efforts to fight back. Bob wasn't even the first to throw a punch, David was. Only seemed fair to let him take the lead in front of his little brother. Randy held the greaser on the right, Bob on the left.

It became apparent quickly that the greaser was just as afraid of their raised voices and threats. Bob capitalized on this quickly. Psychological torment wasn't his typical motive, but this was too easy. As David continued to showboat in front of Tommy, delivering blows here and there, Bob spat out the most vial things he could think of. Up close, right in the greaser's ear. Rapid fire. One after the other. Randy joined in once he caught on. This kid was going to cry, and then Bob was really going to give him something to cry about.

Before long Bob took control again, ready to finish this once and for all. He swung until his arms felt like they were going to fall off. Long after the boy's whimpering stopped. Until he was out of breath and physically couldn't cock his fist back again. As they let his tattered body fall to the ground, Bob felt absolutely nothing. Driving away they didn't know if that boy was alive or dead, and it didn't matter. A celebratory chorus of hooting and hollering filled the Mustang. If Bob felt a twinge of anything at all, it was exhilaration.

A soft knock rapped on the bathroom door was more a warning than seeking permission to enter. Dani slipped in quietly, closing the door behind her.

"Here," She offered a clean shirt taken from Randy's room, setting it on the counter, "Rita can get the stains out." The Adderson maid had far more experience getting blood out of clothing than anyone should. But they paid well, and she knew how to mind her business.

"Thanks," His reply was short. Bob held his hands under the scalding hot water of the sink, watching as it ran pink down the drain still. Almost five minutes now and he was still scrubbing the nooks and crannies of his rings.

Dani reached over, shutting off the water, "Sit down," She sighed.

Bob's head snapped up, looking at the blonde who had busied herself digging through the cabinet.

"Excuse me?" He didn't take well to being told what to do.

She threw a look at him over her shoulder, "Sit. Down." She said each word slowly and pointedly.

Anyone else would have gotten a verbal lashing. Begrudgingly he sat down on the toilet, picking up the bottle of whiskey he snagged once he'd come inside. Truthfully another drink was the main reason he'd decided to come into the house.

It only took Dani a moment to find what she was looking for before making her way to Bob. She took his hands, removing each of his rings carefully. They'd be much easier to clean when they weren't being worn. He winced as she pressed a peroxide-soaked rag to his knuckles, an automatic response. With all the whiskey coursing through him, the pain was barely noticeable. He hadn't even realized he'd busted open a couple of knuckles.

Diligently she helped clean him up. The bruising on his hands was already becoming more apparent. She could only imagine the bragging that was to come after this one. Once she was done, she shoved the clean shirt at him again. He changed wordlessly, though a bit unsteady. Moderation was never his strong suit. Dani had already turned her attention to ensuring his rings were clean. Bob Sheldon wouldn't be caught dead without his trademark jewelry. For a moment, she considered using Randy's toothbrush to scrub them, really making sure they sparkled. She smirked to herself at the thought. It'd serve him right for his attitude earlier, but she refrained.

Bob sauntered up behind her, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Dani raised her gaze to meet his in the mirror as he snaked an arm around her waist, "You're too good to me, baby doll," He whispered softly into her ear, sending a chill down her spine.

"I'm well aware," She replied as he placed a kiss on her cheek.