Fic: Fucking Dignam (Part 1)
Title: Fucking Dignam (part 1)
Author: wook77
Characters: Eventual Dignam/Costigan
Rating: PG-13 for this part due to language
Warnings: cursing, present tense
Word Count: ~1525
Summary: Billy's hurting, Dignam's a bastard. Can't really expect anything else, right?
Author's notes: For ficlette.
It's not the smartest thing he's done. Then again, he's done nothing but stupid things since he signed his life away on that fucking piece of paper. Getting arrested, though, is the stupidest. His stupid fucking idiot of a cousin just had to try to sell coke to an undercover. Billy had told him but the motherfucker had known more than God himself and had gone ahead and tried to make the deal. Billy's just glad that he stayed in the car. Ignorance is bliss, he hopes, especially as he'd still been arrested on suspicion of dealing himself.
It'll be easier for Queenan to get him out, though, with no drugs on him. At least, Billy hopes that Queenan is working to get him off. He hasn't enjoyed jail. Then again, the only assholes that do enjoy it are the psychotic fuckers so it's not really saying much at all.
The only reason he's wondering if he'll be sunk along with his cousin can be summed up in one word - Dignam. Fucking Dignam's been waiting for him to fuck up since he'd walked through the door into Queenan's office. He's not slick and smooth like that other asshole with his cocky attitude and his flirting with Queenan's secretary. Then again, after working with Dignam for this long, he's realized that Dignam's just a prick and treats everyone, slick or not, the same.
"Costigan." The door to the holding cell slides open and there's a huge cop standing there. Once Billy stands, the cop turns and leads the way through the maze of cells back to the front. "Sit."
Billy sits and watches as the cop pulls out a bunch of paperwork. "Sign."
It seems like the guy spends too much time practicing his eating and not enough practicing his social skills. The thought makes Billy smile as he's reviewing the paperwork. The smile widens as he realizes that he's been released. Queenan came though somehow, he's sure.
He goes to the window, picks up small envelope of car keys, watch, cell phone and bill clip with thirty six dollars in it. It's as he's leaving that the phone rings. He looks up the tall glass windows and he's sure that Queenan or Dignam are looking down and watching for him to leave. There's not much chance that they'd know exactly when he's walking out the doors otherwise.
"What?" His voice is harsh as he flips open the phone.
"You better be grateful, real fucking grateful, that Queenan got your ass out. If it was up to me, I woulda let you rot. You hear me? You can rot with the rest of the fuck ups and criminals." It's Dignam and Billy pulls the phone away to glare at it, like he can almost see that smirk and that finger pointing at his face while Dignam's talking.
"Nice to talk to you too. Put Queenan on the phone or …" Billy doesn't really have a threat so he just lets it float out there.
"Or what? I delete your fucking file? I let you rot the next fucking time? You've got nothing, you hear me, nothing. So keep a respectful mouth on you."
"Where's Queenan?" Billy does his best to ignore the threat - repeated and tiresome as it was - of his deletion though he worries about it. He doesn't want Dignam to know about the nightmares where he wakes up, sweating and screaming, with his file gone and him facing fifty years to life for the shit he's done in the name of Queenan and justice.
"Next time, you fucking rot." The click of the phone sounds final in Billy's ear. Since he's been denied the opportunity to respond verbally, he looks up again and shoves his middle finger high into the air. It's petty and small but he doesn't much give a shit.
Fucking Dignam.
~~**~~
He's in a shitload of pain. His wrist is fucking throbbing so hard he can barely breathe. His mom's medication isn't helping with the constant ebb and flow of pain. Then again, he isn't really expecting much can, not after the pounding his wrist took against that pool table.
He's in with Costello but he doesn't give a shit about it. He thinks this has already taken too much pain and suffering and he knows that it's only just begun. He hasn't even met with Costello to start the jobs that he knows are coming.
The phone rings and Billy is tempted to say fuck it and not answer. It comes again, vibrating against the table and showing 'restricted' on the screen. It's probably Queenan, though, and the man's compassion might be enough that he might get Billy some pills. There are a lot of mights and maybes in there but he's in pain and he just wants some fucking sleep.
"What the fuck took so long for you to pick up the fucking phone, you little shit?" Billy glares at the phone and decides that his first reaction is best. He mutters 'fuck it' where Dignam can't hear and closes the phone.
"One mississippi, two mississippi, three mississ - " The phone rings. Dignam is just starting to get predictable.
"You better have a real good fucking reason for hanging up on me." Dignam sounds enraged and Billy smiles as much as he can.
"Dropped the phone, wrist's hurting more than a whore after you're done with her."
"Right and I'm the Queen of Fucking Sheba." It's obvious that Dignam isn't buying it.
"Look, they pounded the shit out of my wrist, fucking broke more fucking bones, alright? You and Queenan don't pay for shit and I can't get any fucking pills so I'm fucking stuck. I'm not in the mood for you to be breaking my balls." Billy flips the cover closed and then slams the phone down onto the coffee table. Pain ricochets up his arm. It's as black circles take over his vision that he realizes he used his cast covered hand.
When he wakes, the first thing he sees is an amber colored bottle of pills. His wrist starts throbbing and he groans. A glass of water appears and he's in so much pain that he doesn't really care where it came from. Instead, he carefully spills out three of the pills into his palm before barely sitting up and tossing them back, chased by the water.
"Happy now, sleeping fucking beauty?"
Billy groans. This is a fucking nightmare. When he wakes up, it'll be Queenan sitting there and anyone but Dignam. He looks over and it's still Dignam, sitting in the chintz-covered armchair his mother had been so fond of. The asshole is slouched back, hands laced together at his waist. With no idea how long he's been out, he's wary and wondering what sort of traps are waiting for him.
"Will be in a few," he says as he salutes with the glass. He takes another sip.
"We need to fit you for the wire, get it hooked up so you'll be ready when you meet with Costello."
"I'm not wearing a wire," Billy insists.
"You'll wear one if I tell you to wear one, you little bitch. Get up and take your shirt off." Dignam only waves a hand and expects Billy to dance like a trained monkey or something.
"I want to talk to Queenan." Billy finishes sitting up, swinging so that his legs touch the floor. He's wobbly and dizzy but he thinks he might live, especially if those goddamn pills kick in any time soon.
"Queenan ain't here, I am. Take your shirt off or I'll take it off you myself." When Dignam leans forward, Billy can tell, from the hopeful sneer, that Dignam's wanting to get in a punch or two. Billy's in too much pain to take much more so he lifts his shirt off and flicks the asshole off when he whistles. "Prison made you a fit little bitch, didn't it? You find a man to protect you from the others? Did he fuck you?"
When Billy doesn't lower his finger, Dignam moves too fast for Billy to keep up and suddenly he's pushed back against the couch and pain is blooming across his chin. "Fucking A, you asshole, you didn't have to hit me!"
"You'll heal." There are hands on his chest and he looks down to see Dignam taping wires to it. The mike nestles next to his nipple and, for as rough as Dignam is, his hands are surprisingly gentle.
Dignam's hands still and Billy looks back up to see Dignam staring at his hand resting on Billy's chest. Their eyes meet and Billy can't quite understand what Dignam's thinking, not with that odd twisted expression on his face. Then again, he doesn't get much time to think because his chin erupts in pain again.
As Dignam's leaving, Billy hears him curse, "Fucking queer, what the fuck?"
Billy wonders what he said or did to give his secret away to Dignam of all people. It's not like he won't be hearing about it for as long as this fucking assignment takes.
Fucking Dignam.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think. Concrit welcomed with open arms.
Author: wook77
Characters: Eventual Dignam/Costigan
Rating: PG-13 for this part due to language
Warnings: cursing, present tense
Word Count: ~1525
Summary: Billy's hurting, Dignam's a bastard. Can't really expect anything else, right?
Author's notes: For ficlette.
It's not the smartest thing he's done. Then again, he's done nothing but stupid things since he signed his life away on that fucking piece of paper. Getting arrested, though, is the stupidest. His stupid fucking idiot of a cousin just had to try to sell coke to an undercover. Billy had told him but the motherfucker had known more than God himself and had gone ahead and tried to make the deal. Billy's just glad that he stayed in the car. Ignorance is bliss, he hopes, especially as he'd still been arrested on suspicion of dealing himself.
It'll be easier for Queenan to get him out, though, with no drugs on him. At least, Billy hopes that Queenan is working to get him off. He hasn't enjoyed jail. Then again, the only assholes that do enjoy it are the psychotic fuckers so it's not really saying much at all.
The only reason he's wondering if he'll be sunk along with his cousin can be summed up in one word - Dignam. Fucking Dignam's been waiting for him to fuck up since he'd walked through the door into Queenan's office. He's not slick and smooth like that other asshole with his cocky attitude and his flirting with Queenan's secretary. Then again, after working with Dignam for this long, he's realized that Dignam's just a prick and treats everyone, slick or not, the same.
"Costigan." The door to the holding cell slides open and there's a huge cop standing there. Once Billy stands, the cop turns and leads the way through the maze of cells back to the front. "Sit."
Billy sits and watches as the cop pulls out a bunch of paperwork. "Sign."
It seems like the guy spends too much time practicing his eating and not enough practicing his social skills. The thought makes Billy smile as he's reviewing the paperwork. The smile widens as he realizes that he's been released. Queenan came though somehow, he's sure.
He goes to the window, picks up small envelope of car keys, watch, cell phone and bill clip with thirty six dollars in it. It's as he's leaving that the phone rings. He looks up the tall glass windows and he's sure that Queenan or Dignam are looking down and watching for him to leave. There's not much chance that they'd know exactly when he's walking out the doors otherwise.
"What?" His voice is harsh as he flips open the phone.
"You better be grateful, real fucking grateful, that Queenan got your ass out. If it was up to me, I woulda let you rot. You hear me? You can rot with the rest of the fuck ups and criminals." It's Dignam and Billy pulls the phone away to glare at it, like he can almost see that smirk and that finger pointing at his face while Dignam's talking.
"Nice to talk to you too. Put Queenan on the phone or …" Billy doesn't really have a threat so he just lets it float out there.
"Or what? I delete your fucking file? I let you rot the next fucking time? You've got nothing, you hear me, nothing. So keep a respectful mouth on you."
"Where's Queenan?" Billy does his best to ignore the threat - repeated and tiresome as it was - of his deletion though he worries about it. He doesn't want Dignam to know about the nightmares where he wakes up, sweating and screaming, with his file gone and him facing fifty years to life for the shit he's done in the name of Queenan and justice.
"Next time, you fucking rot." The click of the phone sounds final in Billy's ear. Since he's been denied the opportunity to respond verbally, he looks up again and shoves his middle finger high into the air. It's petty and small but he doesn't much give a shit.
Fucking Dignam.
~~**~~
He's in a shitload of pain. His wrist is fucking throbbing so hard he can barely breathe. His mom's medication isn't helping with the constant ebb and flow of pain. Then again, he isn't really expecting much can, not after the pounding his wrist took against that pool table.
He's in with Costello but he doesn't give a shit about it. He thinks this has already taken too much pain and suffering and he knows that it's only just begun. He hasn't even met with Costello to start the jobs that he knows are coming.
The phone rings and Billy is tempted to say fuck it and not answer. It comes again, vibrating against the table and showing 'restricted' on the screen. It's probably Queenan, though, and the man's compassion might be enough that he might get Billy some pills. There are a lot of mights and maybes in there but he's in pain and he just wants some fucking sleep.
"What the fuck took so long for you to pick up the fucking phone, you little shit?" Billy glares at the phone and decides that his first reaction is best. He mutters 'fuck it' where Dignam can't hear and closes the phone.
"One mississippi, two mississippi, three mississ - " The phone rings. Dignam is just starting to get predictable.
"You better have a real good fucking reason for hanging up on me." Dignam sounds enraged and Billy smiles as much as he can.
"Dropped the phone, wrist's hurting more than a whore after you're done with her."
"Right and I'm the Queen of Fucking Sheba." It's obvious that Dignam isn't buying it.
"Look, they pounded the shit out of my wrist, fucking broke more fucking bones, alright? You and Queenan don't pay for shit and I can't get any fucking pills so I'm fucking stuck. I'm not in the mood for you to be breaking my balls." Billy flips the cover closed and then slams the phone down onto the coffee table. Pain ricochets up his arm. It's as black circles take over his vision that he realizes he used his cast covered hand.
When he wakes, the first thing he sees is an amber colored bottle of pills. His wrist starts throbbing and he groans. A glass of water appears and he's in so much pain that he doesn't really care where it came from. Instead, he carefully spills out three of the pills into his palm before barely sitting up and tossing them back, chased by the water.
"Happy now, sleeping fucking beauty?"
Billy groans. This is a fucking nightmare. When he wakes up, it'll be Queenan sitting there and anyone but Dignam. He looks over and it's still Dignam, sitting in the chintz-covered armchair his mother had been so fond of. The asshole is slouched back, hands laced together at his waist. With no idea how long he's been out, he's wary and wondering what sort of traps are waiting for him.
"Will be in a few," he says as he salutes with the glass. He takes another sip.
"We need to fit you for the wire, get it hooked up so you'll be ready when you meet with Costello."
"I'm not wearing a wire," Billy insists.
"You'll wear one if I tell you to wear one, you little bitch. Get up and take your shirt off." Dignam only waves a hand and expects Billy to dance like a trained monkey or something.
"I want to talk to Queenan." Billy finishes sitting up, swinging so that his legs touch the floor. He's wobbly and dizzy but he thinks he might live, especially if those goddamn pills kick in any time soon.
"Queenan ain't here, I am. Take your shirt off or I'll take it off you myself." When Dignam leans forward, Billy can tell, from the hopeful sneer, that Dignam's wanting to get in a punch or two. Billy's in too much pain to take much more so he lifts his shirt off and flicks the asshole off when he whistles. "Prison made you a fit little bitch, didn't it? You find a man to protect you from the others? Did he fuck you?"
When Billy doesn't lower his finger, Dignam moves too fast for Billy to keep up and suddenly he's pushed back against the couch and pain is blooming across his chin. "Fucking A, you asshole, you didn't have to hit me!"
"You'll heal." There are hands on his chest and he looks down to see Dignam taping wires to it. The mike nestles next to his nipple and, for as rough as Dignam is, his hands are surprisingly gentle.
Dignam's hands still and Billy looks back up to see Dignam staring at his hand resting on Billy's chest. Their eyes meet and Billy can't quite understand what Dignam's thinking, not with that odd twisted expression on his face. Then again, he doesn't get much time to think because his chin erupts in pain again.
As Dignam's leaving, Billy hears him curse, "Fucking queer, what the fuck?"
Billy wonders what he said or did to give his secret away to Dignam of all people. It's not like he won't be hearing about it for as long as this fucking assignment takes.
Fucking Dignam.
As always, I'd love to hear what you think. Concrit welcomed with open arms.