AU bit for DC plot
Rat doesn’t say much as he’s processed out of the prison, but he never does say much, and he’s out early on good behavior. He slouches out of the gate at last, given an almost sympathetic nod by a guard. He’s lost a little weight, and his shoulders hunch.
Brandon is there, waiting, with a cup of coffee and a dozen donuts. “Food can’t’ve been great in there,” he says sympathetically.
Rat’s face lights up a little, then he shakes his head mournfully. “Awful. But some of the guards are okay.” He reaches for a donut.
“I’m still sorry,” he says, letting him have first pick, before leading the way to a battered car.
Rat shrugs and carries the box, devouring a donut before he answers. “Wasn’t your fault. Just my dumb luck.”
Brandon smiles and pats him on the back. “Well, it’s done now. Let’s go home.”
He nods amiably, wolfing down a second donut. “Things at the shop okay?” Then his look turns wary, “Can I get my job back?”
“It’s already taken care of. You start tomorrow.”
He breaks into a relieved grin. “You take good care of me.” Rat reaches over to muss his hair.
Brandon ducks and laughs. “Just trying to return the favor.”
“…Unh? How d’you mean?” A third donut starts to disappear. He really missed food.
He sobers. “You always look out for me, too. Especially when we were kids.”
“Aww…” He looks flattered and embarrassed. “That. No need to go thinking about that.”
He elbows him gently in the side and hands him the coffee. “Hold this while I drive.”
“Sure.” He accepts it and takes a gulp, then falls silent a the car pulls away. He frowns thoughtfully at the open donut box. “I…I was thinking. In there.” He starts slow, used to finding out his thoughts don’t hold much value.
“Dangerous pastime,” he jokes, grinning. “What were you thinking about?” Brandon’s used to his brother not having much thought of value, but he’s too fond of him to dismiss him lightly.
“Are we still…Have you still been…doing side jobs?”
“I have, yeah. They kind of expect you back, too.”
He ducks his head in a nod. “Only…we shouldn’t, you know. Not just because of what the cops say.”
“Why else?” He gives him a sharp look.
Rat looks cowed, although he’s still taller, even when he hunches. “We steal from banks and businessmen and stuff, but that money isn’t really their money, is it?”
“Banks? Guess not.” He looks thoughtful. “Businessmen, it belongs to investors who’re just as rich as they are, so don’t worry about them.”
“But who do the investors get it from?”
“Listen, big guy,” he sighs, “ I get what you’re worried about. I really do. But you and me, we have to look out for ourselves. No one else is going to do it for us.”
“I know we do,” he keeps frowning. “And I know we’re squeezing the guys at the top, but when we do that, don’t they squeeze the people below them, and those people do it to the ones under them, and next thing you know it’s our boss that owns the shop getting’ stuck with the bill? Or somebody like him…”
“That’s enough,” Brandon snaps, “you don’t quit the gang, and that’s all there is to it. So stop thinking.”
“…leave it for the philosophers, hunh?” He smiles weakly, instantly apologetic. “Sorry.”
His expression softens. “It’s okay. I don’t mean to yell. Just…let me handle business, okay.”
Rat gives an amiable nod and starts on another donut. “It was real boring in there.”
“Yeah? I’ll take you to a move. How about that?”
“Yeah, okay. I want popcorn.” He smiles, but in the privacy of his mind, he’s still thinking.
Brandon is there, waiting, with a cup of coffee and a dozen donuts. “Food can’t’ve been great in there,” he says sympathetically.
Rat’s face lights up a little, then he shakes his head mournfully. “Awful. But some of the guards are okay.” He reaches for a donut.
“I’m still sorry,” he says, letting him have first pick, before leading the way to a battered car.
Rat shrugs and carries the box, devouring a donut before he answers. “Wasn’t your fault. Just my dumb luck.”
Brandon smiles and pats him on the back. “Well, it’s done now. Let’s go home.”
He nods amiably, wolfing down a second donut. “Things at the shop okay?” Then his look turns wary, “Can I get my job back?”
“It’s already taken care of. You start tomorrow.”
He breaks into a relieved grin. “You take good care of me.” Rat reaches over to muss his hair.
Brandon ducks and laughs. “Just trying to return the favor.”
“…Unh? How d’you mean?” A third donut starts to disappear. He really missed food.
He sobers. “You always look out for me, too. Especially when we were kids.”
“Aww…” He looks flattered and embarrassed. “That. No need to go thinking about that.”
He elbows him gently in the side and hands him the coffee. “Hold this while I drive.”
“Sure.” He accepts it and takes a gulp, then falls silent a the car pulls away. He frowns thoughtfully at the open donut box. “I…I was thinking. In there.” He starts slow, used to finding out his thoughts don’t hold much value.
“Dangerous pastime,” he jokes, grinning. “What were you thinking about?” Brandon’s used to his brother not having much thought of value, but he’s too fond of him to dismiss him lightly.
“Are we still…Have you still been…doing side jobs?”
“I have, yeah. They kind of expect you back, too.”
He ducks his head in a nod. “Only…we shouldn’t, you know. Not just because of what the cops say.”
“Why else?” He gives him a sharp look.
Rat looks cowed, although he’s still taller, even when he hunches. “We steal from banks and businessmen and stuff, but that money isn’t really their money, is it?”
“Banks? Guess not.” He looks thoughtful. “Businessmen, it belongs to investors who’re just as rich as they are, so don’t worry about them.”
“But who do the investors get it from?”
“Listen, big guy,” he sighs, “ I get what you’re worried about. I really do. But you and me, we have to look out for ourselves. No one else is going to do it for us.”
“I know we do,” he keeps frowning. “And I know we’re squeezing the guys at the top, but when we do that, don’t they squeeze the people below them, and those people do it to the ones under them, and next thing you know it’s our boss that owns the shop getting’ stuck with the bill? Or somebody like him…”
“That’s enough,” Brandon snaps, “you don’t quit the gang, and that’s all there is to it. So stop thinking.”
“…leave it for the philosophers, hunh?” He smiles weakly, instantly apologetic. “Sorry.”
His expression softens. “It’s okay. I don’t mean to yell. Just…let me handle business, okay.”
Rat gives an amiable nod and starts on another donut. “It was real boring in there.”
“Yeah? I’ll take you to a move. How about that?”
“Yeah, okay. I want popcorn.” He smiles, but in the privacy of his mind, he’s still thinking.