FIC: Sunset Ave (18/?)
Title: Sunset Ave. (18/?)
Fandom: The Green Mile AU
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Billy/Percy
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I don't own either Billy nor Percy, just the plot and everyone else in it.
Sunset Ave.
Chapter Eighteen
The Billets Household
Percy sat across from Lewis on the bed, the two studying each other with careful consideration. Lewis was smirking, turning an apple in his hands before he gave it a crunching bite.
‘Well, Wetmore, I never thought I’d see you running to me for help,’ he drawled slyly.
‘Trust me, neither did I,’ Percy replied, irritated. He looked down, picking at the frayed ends of his trousers; he looked disgusting and dirty. He wanted to go home and settle in a warm, comfy bed in soft pajamas and have Joelle put a hot pan beneath the sheets to warm his feet in the night.
Instead, he’d been living in a cabin that leaked when it rained, wearing the same clothes day in and day out.
Lewis was grinning now, like the cat that had got the cream. ‘You look good tonight, did I mention?’ he laughed.
‘Fuck you,’ Percy bristled, a flush rising in his cheeks. Lewis shook his head with a grin.
‘So, you thought you and Wharton could jus’ run off into the sunset together? You can’t hide who you are, Percy, no matter how far you run.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘Do you want my help or not?’ Lewis snapped, sitting up. ‘Cause I could jus’ throw you back out on the street like the dirty fag you are.’ Percy said nothing, bottom lip jutting ever so slightly. Lewis gave a satisfied smile and leaned back. ‘Guess it won’t matter if I do anyway; you’ve been living like a dog with that fucking runt Wharton-’
‘Leave him alone!’
‘Why are you still defending him?’ Lewis demanded, looking puzzled. He shook his head. ‘He did nothing, but fuck you over and still, you’re covering his back? He’s a dirty cheat and a liar and he was never any good. Not to you, not to anyone. You need to realize that soon, Wetmore. He’s nothing, he’s a fucking nobody.’ Lewis clenched his fist, cheeks pink as he finished ranting. He looked away.
‘Why do you hate him so much?’
‘I jus’ do.’
‘No, there’s got to be a reason,’ Percy pressed. Lewis glared at him, before brushing his fringe from his eyes. He didn’t answer and a few minutes of silence passed between them.
‘What did you mean… on the night you tried to kill me. You said that you only wanted the best for me. What did you mean?’
Lewis glared at him and Percy forced himself to meet it, despite the fact that he wanted to shrink and cower away. ‘It didn’t mean nothing, I was drunk.’
‘You kissed me as well; you remember that?’
‘Fuck you.’ It was Lewis’s turn to be bristled. He got to his feet, tossing his apple core in the bin. ‘I am nothing like you. Nothing!’ He moved over to the door, and then glanced back. His dark eyes were cold as they rested on Percy. ‘You can stay here for as long as you likes, but don’t you dare making it fucking obvious that you’re staying here. I don’t want everyone to know I’m babysitting a queer.’
--
From Lewis’s bedroom window, Percy could see his house, watched as his mother and father left in the car, probably going shopping. From here, he could just make out the red roof of the Wharton farm in the distance, behind the trees.
Lewis was at school, but he’d be back soon. Percy’s stomach rumbled hungrily, but he couldn’t go downstairs for a snack; the Sherriff was down there with a few buddies from the station, talking and laughing loudly.
Percy resigned himself to the fact that he really couldn’t leave this bedroom and slumped back down on the bed. He picked up Bomba the Jungle Boy, a souvenir and memory from when he used to go to Sunday school; it seemed a lifetime away now. How long had it been since he’d first met Billy?
About six months would be his guess; it was mid-September now and the days were getting shorter and colder. Percy turned the first page of the book and started to read. He had just finished the first chapter when the door burst open and Lewis came in. He dumped his school bag on the chair and unwrapped the scarf from around his neck.
‘This is for you,’ he said, pulling a piece of cornbread wrapped in tissue from his sweater. He handed it over. Percy sat up eagerly.
‘Thank you.’
Lewis grunted in reply, kicking off his shoes and moving to the window. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his brown school trousers and stared out the window. Percy ate the cornbread hungrily, eyes on Lewis. Something was up.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ Lewis snapped. Percy finished the cornbread, balling up the tissue and throwing it into the bin. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and took a drink from the glass of water on the bedside table.
‘I’m not going to tell anyone,’ he replied, shifting to lean back against the pillows. Lewis’s brow puckered.
‘America’s at war with Germany,’ he said slowly. Percy froze.
‘What?’
‘War was declared two weeks ago. Where the fuck have you been?’
‘In a cabin,’ muttered Percy to himself. They’d never bothered with radio or newspapers. It was like him and Billy had been in their own little world, while Germany was declaring war on America. And Percy hadn’t even known.
‘I’m eighteen next month,’ he said, continuing to stare out the window. ‘Father wants me to enroll into the Corps. Army, RAF, Navy, whatever. He wants me to go and fight, just so he has the satisfaction of saying ‘my son is out there fighting the war.’’ Lewis shook his head miserably.
‘Don’t you want to fight? Don’t you want to be feeling proud?’ Percy asked. Lewis nodded.
‘I do. It’s just…’ He seemed to hesitate, before he turned to sit at the edge of the bed. ‘I wanted to go to college, get a scholarship. Get into Harvard, maybe. And I’m scared.’
‘It’s alright to be scared,’ Percy shrugged.
‘Two weeks. Two weeks into the war and three guys from here have already been killed,’ Lewis said. Percy frowned.
‘Who?’
‘Nicolas,’ Lewis murmured, swallowing hard as he mentioned his best friend and right hand man. ‘Donnie Wharton. And then that kid, Jimmy, whose dad runs the grocery store.’
‘Shit,’ Percy murmured. ‘Nicolas?’
‘He wanted to go. He was eighteen, nothing stopping him. He wanted me to lie about my age, but I chickened out. And now he’s dead.’
It fell quiet. But, Percy was deep in thought. After a moment, he looked up.
‘I’ll go with you,’ he said firmly. Lewis frowned, meeting his gaze.
‘What?’
‘I want to sign up. I’m not eighteen until January, but I can lie.’ Lewis looked hesitant for a moment. ‘Look,’ Percy pressed. ‘It’ll be like the first time, the first war. We’re all going to be expected to go anyway; if not, we’ll be shamed as cowards and I’m not no coward. I’ll sign up with you. How long have they predicted the war?’
Lewis shrugged. ‘Until Christmas.’
‘Well, then, it’s settled. We sign up, spend a month or two getting trained. By then it will be November. We’ll only spend a month or so actually fighting and then we get to go home.’
Lewis chewed his bottom lip, before nodding. ‘Alright. But, I can’t sign up until next month and at that rate, we might not even fight at all.’
Percy smiled; finally, he was going to do something that his father would be proud of him for. He’d come home Christmas day, uniform lined with medals and his momma would throw her arms over him and his dad would cry a little and tell him it was the proudest moment of his life. And the governor would come and tell him he could have any job he wanted, his choice.
‘Here.’ Lewis reached out and pulled open a drawer; he lifted out a bottle of whiskey, unscrewing the top and smelling it. Then, he took a deep gulp, face wrinkled in distaste. ‘To the war!’ he toasted.
‘And to winning,’ Percy smiled, taking the whiskey and knocking it back. Lewis laughed.
‘Least you don’t shoot your whiskey like a little bitch.’
‘Yeah,’ Percy replied dryly. ‘I’m just full of surprises.’