Title: Times they are a-changing - Chapter 1: The mistake

Fandom: Ocean's eleven (Ocean's 12, technically)

Pairing: Virgil/Turk (implied slashy feelings)

Rating: PG

Summary: Turk tried to talk to him again, not to talk him out of the wedding, but to apologise for the night before and for all the attempts at talking him out of the wedding in the first place, but Virgil had just ignored him. Turk POV

A/N: This is the first chapter in Times they are a-changing that takes place during the second movie (Ocean's twelve) and is part of the Driving me crazy 'Verse (which includes all three movies)

It's weird having the whole family gathered like this. Usually he tries to avoid any and all gathering of the sort, and come to think of it, so does his brother, but he seems happy enough to have them all here now, but then again, these are special circumstances, Turk figures.

He tries to restrain himself and not drink to much alcohol, his hangover being one reason, but also out of some sort of respect for the occasion, even though he thinks the whole thing is a big joke.

He looks at Virgil, looks at him smile and nod his head. It's all an act, and they all buy it. They don't know him the way Turk does. No-one does. Especially not this Sarah girl he only met about two hours ago. And Turk can't believe he's getting married to someone who doesn't even know him and whom he probably knows just as little. Plus, she's not all that interesting. She's one of those boring, homely girls that your mother wants you to date.

Speaking of which, Ma's obviously ecstatic about this whole charade.

Pa too, he thinks, and he would be, after all, he married one of those girls too, no disrespect to his mother or nothing.

Virgil clinks his glass and gets to his feet then. Holding a speech. It's all so wrong, the suits they're wearing, the people around them, that girl and her inbred family, and his brother's permanent, almost scared smile, not to mention that hideous moustache, it's all wrong, this isn't their world. His brother is making the biggest mistake of his life to date, but Turk isn't going to do another thing about it. He's already tried talking to him about it, and that did as much good as a kick to his nuts.

He's tried talking to him several times actually, ever since he started taking the girl out on dates, but the last time was at the bachelor's party, not even twenty-four hours ago. They went to the local bar and got thrashed with the guys, well, Turk didn't have that much to drink, just enough to lay the foundation for a tolerable hangover in the morning but not enough to do anything he'd regret and get blackmailed over in case anyone brought a camera. But Virgil, he'd been hammered. He was grinning from ear to ear like he didn't have a care in the world, and for a while, Turk enjoyed the view, not able to remember the last time he saw his brother that happy.

But then he's spotted Turk over in the corner and started zig-zagging over to him, drink spilling all over the floor and the back of his hand. And then he firmly planted himself in Turk's lap, arm around his shoulders and all, hot breath laced with vodka hitting Turk in the face, and Turk had shoved him off with a half-hearted "Freak!"

Virgil had just giggled and gathered himself up off the floor and sat down in the seat beside him instead, twisting sideways, adjusting his gangly legs to nestle in between Turk's and his chair's, resting his elbow against the back of the chair, and his head against his hand. Grinning at Turk like that was nothing out of the ordinary at all.

"You're drunk", Turk had said.

"I know", Virgil agreed happily.

Then they'd sat there in comfortable silence for a good two minutes before Turk went and ruined it.

"Look, man, are you sure about this girl-?"

Virgil's head shot up and away from his hand like he's been dozing off and someone had just splashed some cold water in his face. He pulled his legs to him and twisted around in his seat again.

"Don't-" he muttered.

"I'm just saying-"

"No", Virgil said, voice coming out a couple of notches higher than he probably realised. "You never just saying, you're just-"

"-What, I'm just what?"

"Knowhat I don't hav'ta lis'en t'this…" Virgil had mumbled, and it had taken him some effort and concentration but he'd got up from the chair again and he'd walked away.

And then he hadn't talked to Turk again, not once during the night, not even when Turk helped him home and tucked him into bed, and not this morning when Turk tried to talk to him again, not to talk him out of the wedding, but to apologise for the night before and for all the attempts at talking him out of the wedding in the first place, but Virgil had just ignored him and walked off in a huff. Every single time. It was almost comical after a while.

And now he's standing there, smiling like a idiot, and Turk couldn't care less about this marriage anymore, or the fact that his brother is making a mistake and refusing to see it when it's kindly pointed out to him. It's not like it's the end of the world. They can always get a divorce. Or even an annulment, if Virgil gets his head out of his ass soon enough.

Virgil thanks their family for being there, and then he moves on to thanking their neighbour and their pals from work, Turk follows the list of names down the table and smiles when each person acknowledges their mention with a wave or a toast, then it gets to him and he looks over at Virgil again, waiting, smiling, winking, then…

"And everyone else who's been supportive and welcomed Sarah into the family."

Huh, Turk thinks.

He knows he should have expected it. He knows he should have. And he knows it doesn't mean anything, not really, it's just part of their banter, part of their relationship, part of who they are. He doesn't need his brother to name him in front of these people to know that he knows him better than all of them combined. And he doesn't need his brother to confirm to know that he knows it too.

He takes the hurt that wells up, that's not even hurt, it's more like irritation really, and he squishes it together and makes a tiny little ball out of it. Grabbing his knife, he starts clinking his own glass. He's not upset. Merely annoyed. He clinks the glass a little too hard and it almost breaks, almost. His brother glares at him, but then his gaze flickers to a point behind his back and he goes pale. Then there's a tip of a cane pressing down on his hand, stopping him from clinking the glass any harder, and he turns around, intent on starting a fight, but that is quickly squashed down when Terry Benedict's black eyes flash back at him and that cane is pressed against his throat instead.

"Get up", Benedict hisses.

We're screwed, Turk thinks, and looking over at Virgil he can tell he's thinking the same thing, although that stupid little smile, albeit a watered down version of it, is still in place. Benedict has them stand up, next to each other, like a couple of naughty school boys who are about to be punished.

They don't look at each other. They don't look at anyone. And Benedict might have given them two weeks to pay the money back, but they're still screwed.

End.