The Formative Years
Author: emocezi
Title: The Formative Years
Rating: R
Wordcount: 2811
Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers or The Expendables nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: This is pretty much a prequel to We Are The Ghosts That Hide In The Night. It's my version of how Gunnar ended up with Jensen and how The Expendables ended up forming, using Jake as a sort of focal point.
Big thanks to kyuubi_paw and pprfaith for poking at me with sticks whenever I took too long of a break.
Also, no, there is no more. So don't ask for more. Because I won't be writing more. So just don't ask/plead/beg or offer internets/cookies/your firstborn for more. Because as I've said twice now, there is no more. This is it.
Enjoy!!
1. Gunnar Jensen hadn't made the best life choice by dropping out of MIT on a full ride to chase after one of the women who danced nights at the local discotheque. But he was young and stupid enough to follow his heart and what he'd thought would be forever.
Her name was Raquel and he hadn't stood a chance when she'd flashed him a killer smile and batted her big brown eyes.
Their romance had lasted a couple of months before it flamed out, and Gunnar was left working nights as a bouncer and wondering what had gone wrong.
Nearly a year after she'd dumped him, Raquel showed up on his doorstep a few hours before he was scheduled to work, with a squirming bundle wrapped in a blue blanket.
She told him the kid was his, and if he didn't believe her, he could just give it away. Told him she'd already had one abortion and her doctor had advised her from having another. She'd carried the kid for nine months and given birth and raised it for two months, and she'd come to the stark realization that she didn't want this kid fucking up her life anymore then it already had.
Gunnar's left standing there with a baby and no clue how to take care of it, and watches as Raquel gets back in her cab and drives away, back to her old life of partying and drinking and coming home at three in the morning.
For the first month all Gunnar thinks about is just dropping the kid off at a church or an orphanage and walking away, going back to the sort of life he'd had before. All fun and games and no responsibilities besides paying his rent on time.
But every time he wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of fierce and hungry cries. Every time he holds his son, so small and delicate and helpless. Every time he looks down into those big blue eyes, and isn't it funny that this child looks nothing like the woman who gave him life, every time he sees his son, he can't think of giving him up.
The money he makes as a bouncer was good when it was just him. But with another tiny person depending on him, he knows he's gonna need another job, something with better pay and less hours. Which is something of a day dream, because life doesn't work that way. But one of the other bouncers knows a guy who might be able to help get him the kind of work he needs.
So he leaves the boy with Mrs. Cruise, the only neighbor he trusts in the building, and goes to see the man they call Tool.
XxX XxX
2. “So who is this little fellah?” Tool asks, reaching out a finger to stroke over a soft cheek. Gunnar shrugs, not knowing how to explain his situation.
“I haven’t given him a name yet.”
“Wanted to get a feel for his personality?”
“Something like that.” Gunnar sets the boy’s car seat on the table and holds out a hand so the boy can kick at his hand with little feet. “I didn’t wanna give him something stupid, ya know.”
“I can appreciate that.” Tool smiles and grabs one of the boys feet between his thumb and forefinger, wiggling it back and forth and making silly faces. It makes the boy laugh, a bright happy little giggle that makes both men smile in reflex.
“If anything happens to me while I’m gone-” Gunnar can’t bring himself to finish the sentence and Tool nods, like he knows what Gunnar’s trying to say.
“You know, I had a son. Tiny little thing, just like this one. Perfect little hands and feet.” There’s a story here, probably a sad one.
“What happened?” Gunnar asks and Tool shrugs.
“They call it SIDS. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. No cause, no cure, no warning. Just walked in to pick him up one morning and he was stone cold.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Gunnar already can’t imagine his life without this kid.
“Thanks. A lot of people, they say the words, but you can tell they don’t mean them. It’s more they don’t know what to say. Social obligations, ya know.”
“What was his name? Your son?”
“Jake. Jacob. His name was Jacob.”
“Jake.” The boy gives them a toothless grin, kicking his legs. Gunnar’s voice is soft and he nods. “It suits him.”
“It does.” Tool’s smile is sad and he claps Gunnar on the arm. “Let’s get you those mission specs.”
XxX
3. "Daddy, up." Jake holds up his arms and Gunnar stoops down, letting Jake fasten tiny hands around his bicep and flexing his arm as he stands. Jake shrieks loudly in excitement and kicks his tiny legs, always so happy to be up this high off the ground.
"You know, I have to say I never pictured you as good with kids." Barney says after a minute as Gunnar grabs Jake by one of his feet and lifts him up at the same time Jake let's go of his arm. He's hanging in the air, laughing these huge belly laughs that always makes Gunnar's heart clench and wonder how Jake is his. He dips Jake down until his head touches the floor and then brings his arm up fast so Jake gets tossed into the air. Gunnar catches his son and swings him right side up. Setting the boy on his shoulders where Jensen hugs his head and grins happily, looking out over the tattoo parlor.
"I never thought I'd ever want a kid." Gunnar says with a shrug. "But I can't imagine life without him."
Barney makes a considering noise and jerks forward, hands automatically rising when Jake makes a controlled fall off of Gunnar's shoulder, trusting completely that his father will always catch him. As soon as he's on the ground he flings his arms around one of Gunnar's legs in a tight hug and runs off to bug Tool about where he keeps the colouring books.
XxX XxX
4. “Do you know kung fu? Like Bruce Lee?” Gunnar looks up in an automatic reaction to Jake’s voice and stands when he sees his son talking to a stranger.
“.....I know wushu.” The man blinks at Jake, seeming confused at why there’s a four year old running around a tattoo parlour known for it’s ties to mercenaries and less then savoury clientele. “I think I have wrong address.”
“You Yinseng Yang?”
“Yin.”
“Yin.” Gunnar echoes and Yin nods once, then looks back down at Jake, who’s tugging at his shirt sleeve.
“Jake, stop bothering the man.”
“Daddy. I want to learn wushu.”
“I’ll teach you when your older.” Gunnar says with a sigh and Yin can tell it’s an old argument. His lips twitch in amusement and before he can help himself he’s crouching down to see eye to eye with the kid.
“Is good for discipline. To learn a martial art at so young an age.”
“Can you teach me?” Jake’s eyes are huge and round and Yin makes a show of pondering before he nods and reaches out to ruffle the boys hair.
“You have no idea what you just got yourself into.” Gunnar says, smirking as Yin rises to his feet. He holds out a hand, waiting for Yin to shake it. “I’m Gunnar, and the brat you just got tricked into teaching wushu is Jake.”
“He is your son?”
“Yes.” Gunnar stoops down to look at Jake, and he isn’t smiling anymore. He’s solemn and serious and Jake follows suit, calming instantly. “You can’t quit because you think it’s boring. If you want to learn this, you have to give it your all.”
“I will daddy.” Jake says, tiny face scrunched up into seriousness. “I will be Bruce Lee.”
“It is better then wanting to be Jackie Chan.” Yin says quietly and Gunnar starts laughing.
XxX XxX
5. Toll Road glances over at the door when it opens and raises his brows at the sight of the kid walking into the tattoo shop like he owned it. Rather then flip their shit at a kid hanging out in the sort of place most grown men went out of their way to avoid, the men sitting around the shop just nod and smile at the kid as he makes his way over to where Toll is sitting with the man they call Gunnar..
“Jake.” Gunnar holds out a hand and the kid heaves out a sigh and passes Gunnar a tan piece of paper that can’t be anything but a report card. Toll casts a worried glance at Tool who’s puffing steadily on his cigar, and watching Jake grow more and more sullen.
“Math is stupid.” The kid explodes finally. He lets his backpack drop and glares at Gunnar, as if daring him to disagree.
“Why?” Gunnar asks, leaning forward. Toll has a sudden flash of his own father’s reaction to his report card and he squeezes his hands into fists, wondering if he’s going to need to stop in, and surprised to find he’s more then willing to protect this kid.
“Because it is. And the stupid teacher won’t let me work ahead. And she gives me bad marks because she says I’m cheating.”
“Are you cheating?”
“NO. She says I’m cheating cause I don’t show my work. But I do it in my head.” Jake looks really upset, like he’s worried his father won’t believe him. He’s breathing hard and his eyes are shiny with unshed tears and for one terrifying moment Toll thinks the kid is gonna cry.
“Eight times nine.” Gunnar says and Jake sniffles hard and answers without even having to think.
“Seventy two.”
“Thirty two divided by four.”
“Eight.”
“Seventeen times twelve.”
“Two hundred and four.” Gunnar grins and reaches out a hand to grab Jake in a lightening fast move that has Toll jerking in his chair, fists clenched. But instead of the open handed slap he’d been expecting Gunnar to dole out, the guy just hugs the kid and suddenly Toll can see the family resemblance.
“I’ll speak to your teacher tomorrow about putting you in an advanced class. You got my brain, kiddo.” The kid fucking snuggles into Gunnar like he’s really a teddy bear instead of one of the most terrifying men Toll has ever seen.
“Thanks dad. Where’s Yin?”
“Hell if I know. Go show him your straight A’s.” Gunnar hands the kid back his report card and grins when he scampers up the stairs, shouting for the Asian Toll had met a few hours ago.
“Never took you for a family man.” Toll says after a few moments and Tool snorts loudly. Gunnar grins and settles back into his chair.
“You know, everybody says that.”
XxX. XxX
6. It's just after one when Jake gets home, followed by a huge black man. The guy has a broken nose and a split lip, not to mention his hands look like he's spent a few hours punching a brick wall. His knuckles are torn to shreds.
Barney raises an eyebrow and Jake shrugs and toes off his shoes.
"This is Caesar. He's the new bouncer over at Joe’s Tavern. Well, he was anyway."
"Get to the point kid." Barney rumbled, knowing Jake and his penchant for going off on tangents.
"I might have gotten him fired. But it wasn't my fault. Tell him man." Jake nudged his new friend.
"Wasn't his fault." The kid says, like he's reciting lines from a play. "Got jumped by some assholes in a rival gang while I was watchin' the door and this knucklehead helped fight 'em off."
"He's got a mean right hook and I remembered how you said you were looking for someone to round out the team and just give him a chance. Please." Jake says, giving Barney his best puppy dog eyes. The ones he uses when he's doing his best to get himself out of trouble.
"What the hell were you doing hanging out around Joe’s at this time of night?" Barney asks, his tone dangerously pleasant and Jake shrugs and doesn't meet his eyes.
"Doug said his brother could get us in."
"Doug's the shithead that brought a gun to school, am I right?" Jake nods and Barney sighs and drags a hand through his hair. "I get you want to be grown-up, but you've got your whole life ahead of you to spend in shitty bars. Promise me you won't do it again and this'll stay with us."
"I promise." Jake says sullenly and Barney's lips twitch in amusement.
"What's your name kid?" He asks and the kid behind Jake looks up. Be can't be older then 20, though he looks like he's already lived through a war.
"Hale Caesar." The kid mumbles and Barney cocks his head and really looks at the kid. He looks like he can handle himself, and with a little extra training he could become a valuable asset.
"Come by tomorrow and we'll talk. Jake, bed."
"I'm going."
"And if I catch you hanging out at a bar before your 21st birthday. I'm telling your father."
"I said I wasn't going to." Jake sounds petulant. "You used to be the cool uncle." He yells out as he runs up the stairs to his room.
"You got a place to stay?" Barney asks and Caesar shrugs. "That's what I thought. Come in, we've always got a spare bed, never know who's gonna be dropping by.
XxX XxX
7. It's a sweltering 92 degrees when Lee Christmas walks down the block towards Tool’s Tattoo Shop, and he's already regretting his choice to wear denim and leather.
He's got eight years of military service under his belt, four of those years spent fighting terrorism in the SAS. And for reasons he doesn't want to talk about, he didn't reenlist. Instead he booked a one way flight to America, as if flying across the ocean is going to prevent his demons from following.
A friend told him about Tool and the possibility of a job, which is why he's here, walking through this skeevy neighbourhood that makes him feel at home, even as it makes his skin crawl.
There's a kid sitting outside the shop. He can't be older than 16, but he's pretty. Golden skin, golden hair, and when he looks up Lee's shocked by how blue his eyes are.
The kids shirtless, his jeans well worn and ripped, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's selling. Not with that mouth.
"Hey, you looking for someone? You look a little lost." The kid calls out and Lee raises an eyebrow and sneers.
"I know exactly where I am, friend. You're gonna need another corner, cause this one isn't gonna bring you the sort of-"
"Woah." The kid holds up a hand, looking all sorts or uncomfortable. "First off, I'm not a rent boy or a prostitute it whatever it is you've got running through your head. And second. HEY DAD, THAT BRITISH GUY IS HERE."
At the yell a veritable giant of a man ducks through the door and into the sun, squinting at the sudden change.
"You Lee Christmas?" The guy asks, then turns to the kid and gives him a look. "Go put a shirt in before you burn, Jake. I don't need another lecture about the dangers of melanoma."
"But its so hot ooouuuuut." The kid whined, slumping down against the wall.
"Jake."
"I'm going." The kid stands, stretches and grins in a way the Lee can't help but associate trouble with. "By the way, you couldn't afford me."
He darts into the garage and Lee is left to attempt an explanation. The giant does not look happy and Lee wonders if he's gonna have to fight his way out of this.
“You wanna explain what he’s talking about?”
“Look, I may have mistaken him for some sort of...”
“Prostitute?” The giant rumbles and Lee shifts uncomfortably, wishing he’d brought more than three knives with him today.
“It was an honest mistake.” The look he gets slammed with makes Lee fight a wince and he loosens his entire body, ready for anything that might get thrown his way.
“You get one free pass. This is it. You fucking look at my son the wrong way, and I’ll fucking gut you with a smile and a song in my heart. We clear.”
“Yep. Crystal. Got it.”
“Good. Now get your ass inside. Tool’s been waiting for you. JAKE I SAID PUT A SHIRT ON.”
“BUT IT’S SO HOOOOOOT.”
“NOW.”
“FINE. BUT I’M WEARING IT UNDER DURESS.”
“Goddamn kid.” Gunnar hisses under his breath, but he’s grinning while he says it, and Lee can’t help but pity the first person Jake brings home to meet his parents. And he hopes he’s there to see it.
Title: The Formative Years
Rating: R
Wordcount: 2811
Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers or The Expendables nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: This is pretty much a prequel to We Are The Ghosts That Hide In The Night. It's my version of how Gunnar ended up with Jensen and how The Expendables ended up forming, using Jake as a sort of focal point.
Big thanks to kyuubi_paw and pprfaith for poking at me with sticks whenever I took too long of a break.
Also, no, there is no more. So don't ask for more. Because I won't be writing more. So just don't ask/plead/beg or offer internets/cookies/your firstborn for more. Because as I've said twice now, there is no more. This is it.
Enjoy!!
1. Gunnar Jensen hadn't made the best life choice by dropping out of MIT on a full ride to chase after one of the women who danced nights at the local discotheque. But he was young and stupid enough to follow his heart and what he'd thought would be forever.
Her name was Raquel and he hadn't stood a chance when she'd flashed him a killer smile and batted her big brown eyes.
Their romance had lasted a couple of months before it flamed out, and Gunnar was left working nights as a bouncer and wondering what had gone wrong.
Nearly a year after she'd dumped him, Raquel showed up on his doorstep a few hours before he was scheduled to work, with a squirming bundle wrapped in a blue blanket.
She told him the kid was his, and if he didn't believe her, he could just give it away. Told him she'd already had one abortion and her doctor had advised her from having another. She'd carried the kid for nine months and given birth and raised it for two months, and she'd come to the stark realization that she didn't want this kid fucking up her life anymore then it already had.
Gunnar's left standing there with a baby and no clue how to take care of it, and watches as Raquel gets back in her cab and drives away, back to her old life of partying and drinking and coming home at three in the morning.
For the first month all Gunnar thinks about is just dropping the kid off at a church or an orphanage and walking away, going back to the sort of life he'd had before. All fun and games and no responsibilities besides paying his rent on time.
But every time he wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of fierce and hungry cries. Every time he holds his son, so small and delicate and helpless. Every time he looks down into those big blue eyes, and isn't it funny that this child looks nothing like the woman who gave him life, every time he sees his son, he can't think of giving him up.
The money he makes as a bouncer was good when it was just him. But with another tiny person depending on him, he knows he's gonna need another job, something with better pay and less hours. Which is something of a day dream, because life doesn't work that way. But one of the other bouncers knows a guy who might be able to help get him the kind of work he needs.
So he leaves the boy with Mrs. Cruise, the only neighbor he trusts in the building, and goes to see the man they call Tool.
XxX XxX
2. “So who is this little fellah?” Tool asks, reaching out a finger to stroke over a soft cheek. Gunnar shrugs, not knowing how to explain his situation.
“I haven’t given him a name yet.”
“Wanted to get a feel for his personality?”
“Something like that.” Gunnar sets the boy’s car seat on the table and holds out a hand so the boy can kick at his hand with little feet. “I didn’t wanna give him something stupid, ya know.”
“I can appreciate that.” Tool smiles and grabs one of the boys feet between his thumb and forefinger, wiggling it back and forth and making silly faces. It makes the boy laugh, a bright happy little giggle that makes both men smile in reflex.
“If anything happens to me while I’m gone-” Gunnar can’t bring himself to finish the sentence and Tool nods, like he knows what Gunnar’s trying to say.
“You know, I had a son. Tiny little thing, just like this one. Perfect little hands and feet.” There’s a story here, probably a sad one.
“What happened?” Gunnar asks and Tool shrugs.
“They call it SIDS. Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. No cause, no cure, no warning. Just walked in to pick him up one morning and he was stone cold.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Gunnar already can’t imagine his life without this kid.
“Thanks. A lot of people, they say the words, but you can tell they don’t mean them. It’s more they don’t know what to say. Social obligations, ya know.”
“What was his name? Your son?”
“Jake. Jacob. His name was Jacob.”
“Jake.” The boy gives them a toothless grin, kicking his legs. Gunnar’s voice is soft and he nods. “It suits him.”
“It does.” Tool’s smile is sad and he claps Gunnar on the arm. “Let’s get you those mission specs.”
XxX
3. "Daddy, up." Jake holds up his arms and Gunnar stoops down, letting Jake fasten tiny hands around his bicep and flexing his arm as he stands. Jake shrieks loudly in excitement and kicks his tiny legs, always so happy to be up this high off the ground.
"You know, I have to say I never pictured you as good with kids." Barney says after a minute as Gunnar grabs Jake by one of his feet and lifts him up at the same time Jake let's go of his arm. He's hanging in the air, laughing these huge belly laughs that always makes Gunnar's heart clench and wonder how Jake is his. He dips Jake down until his head touches the floor and then brings his arm up fast so Jake gets tossed into the air. Gunnar catches his son and swings him right side up. Setting the boy on his shoulders where Jensen hugs his head and grins happily, looking out over the tattoo parlor.
"I never thought I'd ever want a kid." Gunnar says with a shrug. "But I can't imagine life without him."
Barney makes a considering noise and jerks forward, hands automatically rising when Jake makes a controlled fall off of Gunnar's shoulder, trusting completely that his father will always catch him. As soon as he's on the ground he flings his arms around one of Gunnar's legs in a tight hug and runs off to bug Tool about where he keeps the colouring books.
XxX XxX
4. “Do you know kung fu? Like Bruce Lee?” Gunnar looks up in an automatic reaction to Jake’s voice and stands when he sees his son talking to a stranger.
“.....I know wushu.” The man blinks at Jake, seeming confused at why there’s a four year old running around a tattoo parlour known for it’s ties to mercenaries and less then savoury clientele. “I think I have wrong address.”
“You Yinseng Yang?”
“Yin.”
“Yin.” Gunnar echoes and Yin nods once, then looks back down at Jake, who’s tugging at his shirt sleeve.
“Jake, stop bothering the man.”
“Daddy. I want to learn wushu.”
“I’ll teach you when your older.” Gunnar says with a sigh and Yin can tell it’s an old argument. His lips twitch in amusement and before he can help himself he’s crouching down to see eye to eye with the kid.
“Is good for discipline. To learn a martial art at so young an age.”
“Can you teach me?” Jake’s eyes are huge and round and Yin makes a show of pondering before he nods and reaches out to ruffle the boys hair.
“You have no idea what you just got yourself into.” Gunnar says, smirking as Yin rises to his feet. He holds out a hand, waiting for Yin to shake it. “I’m Gunnar, and the brat you just got tricked into teaching wushu is Jake.”
“He is your son?”
“Yes.” Gunnar stoops down to look at Jake, and he isn’t smiling anymore. He’s solemn and serious and Jake follows suit, calming instantly. “You can’t quit because you think it’s boring. If you want to learn this, you have to give it your all.”
“I will daddy.” Jake says, tiny face scrunched up into seriousness. “I will be Bruce Lee.”
“It is better then wanting to be Jackie Chan.” Yin says quietly and Gunnar starts laughing.
XxX XxX
5. Toll Road glances over at the door when it opens and raises his brows at the sight of the kid walking into the tattoo shop like he owned it. Rather then flip their shit at a kid hanging out in the sort of place most grown men went out of their way to avoid, the men sitting around the shop just nod and smile at the kid as he makes his way over to where Toll is sitting with the man they call Gunnar..
“Jake.” Gunnar holds out a hand and the kid heaves out a sigh and passes Gunnar a tan piece of paper that can’t be anything but a report card. Toll casts a worried glance at Tool who’s puffing steadily on his cigar, and watching Jake grow more and more sullen.
“Math is stupid.” The kid explodes finally. He lets his backpack drop and glares at Gunnar, as if daring him to disagree.
“Why?” Gunnar asks, leaning forward. Toll has a sudden flash of his own father’s reaction to his report card and he squeezes his hands into fists, wondering if he’s going to need to stop in, and surprised to find he’s more then willing to protect this kid.
“Because it is. And the stupid teacher won’t let me work ahead. And she gives me bad marks because she says I’m cheating.”
“Are you cheating?”
“NO. She says I’m cheating cause I don’t show my work. But I do it in my head.” Jake looks really upset, like he’s worried his father won’t believe him. He’s breathing hard and his eyes are shiny with unshed tears and for one terrifying moment Toll thinks the kid is gonna cry.
“Eight times nine.” Gunnar says and Jake sniffles hard and answers without even having to think.
“Seventy two.”
“Thirty two divided by four.”
“Eight.”
“Seventeen times twelve.”
“Two hundred and four.” Gunnar grins and reaches out a hand to grab Jake in a lightening fast move that has Toll jerking in his chair, fists clenched. But instead of the open handed slap he’d been expecting Gunnar to dole out, the guy just hugs the kid and suddenly Toll can see the family resemblance.
“I’ll speak to your teacher tomorrow about putting you in an advanced class. You got my brain, kiddo.” The kid fucking snuggles into Gunnar like he’s really a teddy bear instead of one of the most terrifying men Toll has ever seen.
“Thanks dad. Where’s Yin?”
“Hell if I know. Go show him your straight A’s.” Gunnar hands the kid back his report card and grins when he scampers up the stairs, shouting for the Asian Toll had met a few hours ago.
“Never took you for a family man.” Toll says after a few moments and Tool snorts loudly. Gunnar grins and settles back into his chair.
“You know, everybody says that.”
XxX. XxX
6. It's just after one when Jake gets home, followed by a huge black man. The guy has a broken nose and a split lip, not to mention his hands look like he's spent a few hours punching a brick wall. His knuckles are torn to shreds.
Barney raises an eyebrow and Jake shrugs and toes off his shoes.
"This is Caesar. He's the new bouncer over at Joe’s Tavern. Well, he was anyway."
"Get to the point kid." Barney rumbled, knowing Jake and his penchant for going off on tangents.
"I might have gotten him fired. But it wasn't my fault. Tell him man." Jake nudged his new friend.
"Wasn't his fault." The kid says, like he's reciting lines from a play. "Got jumped by some assholes in a rival gang while I was watchin' the door and this knucklehead helped fight 'em off."
"He's got a mean right hook and I remembered how you said you were looking for someone to round out the team and just give him a chance. Please." Jake says, giving Barney his best puppy dog eyes. The ones he uses when he's doing his best to get himself out of trouble.
"What the hell were you doing hanging out around Joe’s at this time of night?" Barney asks, his tone dangerously pleasant and Jake shrugs and doesn't meet his eyes.
"Doug said his brother could get us in."
"Doug's the shithead that brought a gun to school, am I right?" Jake nods and Barney sighs and drags a hand through his hair. "I get you want to be grown-up, but you've got your whole life ahead of you to spend in shitty bars. Promise me you won't do it again and this'll stay with us."
"I promise." Jake says sullenly and Barney's lips twitch in amusement.
"What's your name kid?" He asks and the kid behind Jake looks up. Be can't be older then 20, though he looks like he's already lived through a war.
"Hale Caesar." The kid mumbles and Barney cocks his head and really looks at the kid. He looks like he can handle himself, and with a little extra training he could become a valuable asset.
"Come by tomorrow and we'll talk. Jake, bed."
"I'm going."
"And if I catch you hanging out at a bar before your 21st birthday. I'm telling your father."
"I said I wasn't going to." Jake sounds petulant. "You used to be the cool uncle." He yells out as he runs up the stairs to his room.
"You got a place to stay?" Barney asks and Caesar shrugs. "That's what I thought. Come in, we've always got a spare bed, never know who's gonna be dropping by.
XxX XxX
7. It's a sweltering 92 degrees when Lee Christmas walks down the block towards Tool’s Tattoo Shop, and he's already regretting his choice to wear denim and leather.
He's got eight years of military service under his belt, four of those years spent fighting terrorism in the SAS. And for reasons he doesn't want to talk about, he didn't reenlist. Instead he booked a one way flight to America, as if flying across the ocean is going to prevent his demons from following.
A friend told him about Tool and the possibility of a job, which is why he's here, walking through this skeevy neighbourhood that makes him feel at home, even as it makes his skin crawl.
There's a kid sitting outside the shop. He can't be older than 16, but he's pretty. Golden skin, golden hair, and when he looks up Lee's shocked by how blue his eyes are.
The kids shirtless, his jeans well worn and ripped, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's selling. Not with that mouth.
"Hey, you looking for someone? You look a little lost." The kid calls out and Lee raises an eyebrow and sneers.
"I know exactly where I am, friend. You're gonna need another corner, cause this one isn't gonna bring you the sort of-"
"Woah." The kid holds up a hand, looking all sorts or uncomfortable. "First off, I'm not a rent boy or a prostitute it whatever it is you've got running through your head. And second. HEY DAD, THAT BRITISH GUY IS HERE."
At the yell a veritable giant of a man ducks through the door and into the sun, squinting at the sudden change.
"You Lee Christmas?" The guy asks, then turns to the kid and gives him a look. "Go put a shirt in before you burn, Jake. I don't need another lecture about the dangers of melanoma."
"But its so hot ooouuuuut." The kid whined, slumping down against the wall.
"Jake."
"I'm going." The kid stands, stretches and grins in a way the Lee can't help but associate trouble with. "By the way, you couldn't afford me."
He darts into the garage and Lee is left to attempt an explanation. The giant does not look happy and Lee wonders if he's gonna have to fight his way out of this.
“You wanna explain what he’s talking about?”
“Look, I may have mistaken him for some sort of...”
“Prostitute?” The giant rumbles and Lee shifts uncomfortably, wishing he’d brought more than three knives with him today.
“It was an honest mistake.” The look he gets slammed with makes Lee fight a wince and he loosens his entire body, ready for anything that might get thrown his way.
“You get one free pass. This is it. You fucking look at my son the wrong way, and I’ll fucking gut you with a smile and a song in my heart. We clear.”
“Yep. Crystal. Got it.”
“Good. Now get your ass inside. Tool’s been waiting for you. JAKE I SAID PUT A SHIRT ON.”
“BUT IT’S SO HOOOOOOT.”
“NOW.”
“FINE. BUT I’M WEARING IT UNDER DURESS.”
“Goddamn kid.” Gunnar hisses under his breath, but he’s grinning while he says it, and Lee can’t help but pity the first person Jake brings home to meet his parents. And he hopes he’s there to see it.