[ fanfic ] : count
Ah, sorry for spamming your flists everyone. >< I just wrote this in about twenty minutes and liked it, so here it is.
title: count
fandom: DOGS: Bullets and Carnage
characters/pairing: Mostly Badou.
warnings: Mmm. Nothing really.
summary: He counts the seconds-minutes-days-months - but not the years, because by then he's gone.
The morning after his brother was killed (killed, he reminds himself because his death wasn’t a real death, it was a murder), he walks down the street, turns a corner, and stands in front of Buon Viaggio for seven minutes and thirty six seconds until Kiri notices someone standing outside and tells Mihai to see who it is.
They knew him. Mihai was a friend of his brother’s (killed) and they had met. But Mihai didn’t expect a thirteen year old - scrawny, bleeding, crying a little, tired - kid standing outside of his old friend’s restaurant.
Kiri let him in, sent him to the bathroom. He wondered before turning on the tap if she had taken out all of the razors before telling him to take a bath. He knew (absently) that Mihai didn’t shave anymore. Mihai trimmed. He doesn’t need to shave yet.
His brother is dead (killed).
Mihai knocks on the door after half an hour and asks if he needs anything. He doesn’t reply (looks in the mirror, almost touches his scabby-closed eye) at first, then opens the door and walks out, still dressed and dry. He hasn’t washed any of the blood off his arms - his hand - his face - his clothes. His brother’s clothes (killed).
Kiri tells him he can stay. He tells them that his brother is dead (killed), doesn’t mention the reason (the method of murder, to madness).
Scars don’t come from nothing.
Two months, three days, seven hours, five minutes, and fifty one seconds later he’s back in his brother’s (killed) apartment with a new eyepatch and his brother’s (killed) camera.
ʊ
Six months, twenty one days, three hours, nineteen minutes, and two seconds after his brother disappeared (was killed) in the Underground, he meets Mimi at the corner store. She’s still small and relatively clean (her shirt isn’t stained with spaghetti sauce like his and she’s still undirtied by the city) and he tries to avoid her.
She grabs the back of his jacket - his brother’s (killed) - and spins him around to look him in the face.
She sees his eyepatch and looks at the pack of cigarettes in his hand instead.
“You’re smoking too?” Disbelief. Like your brother.
He shrugs, and says something lame and believable about his brother’s (killed) leftover smokes.
She buys it. She doesn’t know him. She didn’t know his brother.
(killed)
He waves goodbye with his left hand and doesn’t take his right hand out of his pocket until she leaves.
ʊ
The first time he picks up a gun is nine months, fifteen days, two hours, nine minutes, and forty three seconds after his brother was lost.
(killed)
It’s a long time for a kid to live on their own without real firepower. The machine gun feels too heavy (because it has the capacity to kill) and he can’t aim right.
But he pulls the trigger and knows that he’s lost his brother (killed).
ʊ
He’s stopped counting.
He’s eighteen and bleeding, smoking even while he bleeds. Nicotine is necessary to keep him quiet now, Kiri and Mihai and Mimi and anyone who actually deals with him on a regular basis know this now.
Slumped against the alley wall, ass on the ground and shaking hands cradling a smoke.
Maybe he’ll die this time.
Real famiglia, after all, are more dangerous than the average gang. He realizes vaguely that they’re not just after him, they remember his brother.
His brother?
Wasn’t (killed) he gone? For so long now.
Badou has stopped counting.
title: count
fandom: DOGS: Bullets and Carnage
characters/pairing: Mostly Badou.
warnings: Mmm. Nothing really.
summary: He counts the seconds-minutes-days-months - but not the years, because by then he's gone.
The morning after his brother was killed (killed, he reminds himself because his death wasn’t a real death, it was a murder), he walks down the street, turns a corner, and stands in front of Buon Viaggio for seven minutes and thirty six seconds until Kiri notices someone standing outside and tells Mihai to see who it is.
They knew him. Mihai was a friend of his brother’s (killed) and they had met. But Mihai didn’t expect a thirteen year old - scrawny, bleeding, crying a little, tired - kid standing outside of his old friend’s restaurant.
Kiri let him in, sent him to the bathroom. He wondered before turning on the tap if she had taken out all of the razors before telling him to take a bath. He knew (absently) that Mihai didn’t shave anymore. Mihai trimmed. He doesn’t need to shave yet.
His brother is dead (killed).
Mihai knocks on the door after half an hour and asks if he needs anything. He doesn’t reply (looks in the mirror, almost touches his scabby-closed eye) at first, then opens the door and walks out, still dressed and dry. He hasn’t washed any of the blood off his arms - his hand - his face - his clothes. His brother’s clothes (killed).
Kiri tells him he can stay. He tells them that his brother is dead (killed), doesn’t mention the reason (the method of murder, to madness).
Scars don’t come from nothing.
Two months, three days, seven hours, five minutes, and fifty one seconds later he’s back in his brother’s (killed) apartment with a new eyepatch and his brother’s (killed) camera.
ʊ
Six months, twenty one days, three hours, nineteen minutes, and two seconds after his brother disappeared (was killed) in the Underground, he meets Mimi at the corner store. She’s still small and relatively clean (her shirt isn’t stained with spaghetti sauce like his and she’s still undirtied by the city) and he tries to avoid her.
She grabs the back of his jacket - his brother’s (killed) - and spins him around to look him in the face.
She sees his eyepatch and looks at the pack of cigarettes in his hand instead.
“You’re smoking too?” Disbelief. Like your brother.
He shrugs, and says something lame and believable about his brother’s (killed) leftover smokes.
She buys it. She doesn’t know him. She didn’t know his brother.
(killed)
He waves goodbye with his left hand and doesn’t take his right hand out of his pocket until she leaves.
ʊ
The first time he picks up a gun is nine months, fifteen days, two hours, nine minutes, and forty three seconds after his brother was lost.
(killed)
It’s a long time for a kid to live on their own without real firepower. The machine gun feels too heavy (because it has the capacity to kill) and he can’t aim right.
But he pulls the trigger and knows that he’s lost his brother (killed).
ʊ
He’s stopped counting.
He’s eighteen and bleeding, smoking even while he bleeds. Nicotine is necessary to keep him quiet now, Kiri and Mihai and Mimi and anyone who actually deals with him on a regular basis know this now.
Slumped against the alley wall, ass on the ground and shaking hands cradling a smoke.
Maybe he’ll die this time.
Real famiglia, after all, are more dangerous than the average gang. He realizes vaguely that they’re not just after him, they remember his brother.
His brother?
Wasn’t (killed) he gone? For so long now.
Badou has stopped counting.