Take Good Care of the Poor Boy

Please don't wake me
No don't shake me
Leave me where I am
I'm only sleeping...
-The Beatles, I'm Only Sleeping

Chapter Seven: Going Around Again


Jack showed up at David's for breakfast, mainly because he was sick of waiting for Sean to eat waffles. Besides, Mrs. Jacobs usually fed him like he was actually eight people combined in one body. Which was a-okay with Jack.

Luckily, David, and not Sarah, answered the door. In his pajamas. With a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

"Aaawwwwww, what a ray of sunshiiine," Jack cooed. ( Read more... )

QUICK NOTE: Hi! We aren't dead. Promise. In fact, keep your fingers crossed, over the next few weeks we'll try and get the rest of this fic up. Chapters may not all have our traditional niceities like titles and lyrics and author notes, but at least the fic will be done. Love.

Take Good Care of the Poor Boy

She lowered her head when they laid all the blame
The charge was clear
And I've been her swordsman of national fame
Her knight so dear
Trapped in her castle
In mourning and still a dreamer
What began as a hastle
If anything wouldn't seem her
I put down my head when they layed all the blame
I spoke in fear
- Moxy Fruvous, Poor Mary Lane

Chapter Six: Family Affair


The breakfast table was completely silent, except for Denise chattering about the usual things she chattered about. Movies, articles in the paper, the length of Jack's hair and how badly he needed a trim.

But something was a little different this morning.

Jack and Sean, though not exactly on friendly terms, were not fighting.

Denise took that as a very refreshing sign. She watched Jack wolf down four waffles (all pre-frozen of course), and when he asked Sean to pass the syrup, Sean did. Well, Sean shoved the syrup, but still, he did it and he didn't snap and neither did Jack.

"Well, you two are quiet this morning," Denise said. "Maybe I should leave you alone more often?"

"No," they both answered.

Well, it was better than nothing.( Read more... )

Take Good Care of the Poor Boy

I thought I knew you, what did I know
You don't look different, but you have changed
I'm looking through you, you're not the same
-The Beatles, I’m Looking Through You

Chapter Five: Brothers in Arms


The silence was terrible, and for the first time in the history of their friendship, David wasn't sure what exactly to say and how exactly to say it.

Jack was in an awfully depressed mood. Thanks to Sarah's romp with Carl Lewis, and having discovered what happened between Sean and Dutchy (Blink had been the unhappy messenger) Jack was at a complete loss. Should he punch out Sean or should he just give up and not give a shit?
And Jack never gave up, and he always gave a shit.

"You okay?" David mumbled.

"No."
( Read more... )

(Note: takes place several years pre-shooting.)

My life was so lonesome
Now I know you exist
We could talk on the phone some
But I’d rather we kissed
-Sloan, Ready For You

Every muscle in Michael’s body was tense. He’d been bent over his laptop for so long he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to straighten his back again. The screen seemed to be blurring in front of him; he had to squint to make out the text—if he ever became a legislator, he decided, he was going to ban any fonts smaller than 10 point. He already had made it his company policy not to use anything smaller than 12.

He sighed. Twenty-nine suddenly felt old.

( More. NC-17; Adults only )

(AN: I'm dropping the rest of this arch in here, so this is lengthy. The second half is also very snippety, and I just want to clarify beforehand, does not all take place on the same day. But I'm waaaay too lazy to go back and add anything like context to make that clear. Forgive me?)

Marco’s wife was named Ann, and they’d actually met on one of his official jobs. Or rather, she’d been the job. It was actually kind of a romantic story, because there he was protecting her, and one thing led to another and within a couple years they were married. Adam, now seven years old, had been the icing on the cake.

Marco had been grateful for a second chance to have a family. He’d never gotten over how badly he missed his cousins. And being a husband and father was actually more amazing than he’d ever dreamed.

Even so, he was kind of nervous when Ann brought Adam to visit. It was mostly just to see them—the university Ann taught at was on spring break, and Adam’s second-grade class was, too—but he also wanted Ann to meet Izzy since, after all, she’d just bought the company that was his livelihood. It seemed like a good idea to introduce his wife and his employer.

( Read more... )

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The band and its hangers on had rented a whole floor of one of DC’s nicer hotels to stay in while they were all still camped in the area. Ryan had a place of his own, the townhouse he and Michael owned, though he wasn’t really using it—while the others were in the hotel, he was for all intents and purposes living in the hospital. But at the hotel, Isabella had actually gotten herself a suite, since she needed space to work. The fact that the band was on hiatus didn’t mean Money City Company was, and she was still the owner and major investor of a number of other businesses.

But when there was a knock on her door, she knew it would be Tony. So she shut her laptop, stretched, and let him in. He looked… Well, he looked like Tony. Stressed and angry. He had a beer in one hand and a bag of Skittles was sticking out of his pocket. He smelled of cigarette smoke—and, to the best of her knowledge, he was not seeing anyone who smoked. Not a great sign.

( Read more... )

Marco made his appearance the next morning. It was just him and a few guys in suits; if they’d still been in the mob, they’d have been ‘casing the joint.’ Instead, they were discussing strategic check-points and security protocols and, well, Sean was actually pretty inwardly pleased that they really were taking Michael’s safety this seriously.

Marco still looked like a model. Of course, he was genuinely middle-aged now, and his hair was starting to gray pretty noticeably. And yet somehow, the phrase ‘devilishly handsome’ came to mind. And when he smiled—well. Sean glowered in his general direction. It still pissed him off that a guy that hot was so impossible on every level.

( Read more... )

At around quarter to eleven the next day, as usual, Sean headed out towards his car in the parking lot. And discovered that Isabella was sitting in the passenger seat, reading a magazine. He raised an eyebrow, certain he had left the doors locked, but not entirely shocked that Izzy had managed to get in regardless.

He tapped on a window, and she leaned across to unlock the door for him. He slid inside, buckled up, and started the car without comment. She began giving him directions and he didn’t argue until they pulled in at an upscale restaurant.

( Read more... )