Death Sentence
May. 20th, 2009 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veiledndarknessTitle: Watching Him 3/?
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Billy/OFC
Rating: R
Summary: She sees everything, she’s watching him fall.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.
AU follows storyline of movie somewhat.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
XX
It was with great reluctance that Beth checked on Billy the next morning. On one hand, she was furious with herself and him, on the other, she was greatly worried that he might still be angry enough to fire her. She tied her hair back with quick movements, a small frown creasing her forehead. With a sigh, Beth made her way up the stairs, resigned to dealing with the aftermath of Billy's freak out.
She pushed the door open when there was no response. Billy lay sprawled across the bed. He'd managed to take his boots, jeans and shirt off and now he was clad only in his shorts. He was frowning deeply in his sleep, his hands gripping fistfuls of the sheets beneath him.
She crossed herself, thankful that he was still alive. She'd been sure that he'd suffered a concussion. She opened the window, sneezing from the smoke that lingered in the room. Billy sighed and rolled over, the bruising on his neck visible then.
Beth edged closer to the bed, biting her lip. "Billy..." she whispered.
He grunted, tugging the sheet over his head. "G' out," he mumbled.
She took another step closer to the bed. "Sir," she touched his shoulder very carefully. "It's Beth."
He opened his bloodshot eyes, glaring at her. "What part o' get the fuck out is unclear?"
"Your head...you've got cuts, I need to check them. They could get infected."
Billy curled back up. "I don't give a shit. Get outta here."
Beth breathed in deeply, gathering her courage. "No, not until you let me check. Stop bein' so damned stubborn for once."
He stared up at her, speechless in his outrage. "Oh, you’d best watch who you're talkin' to. If you wanna keep breathin', you will get...the...fuck...out," he said slowly.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I am not afraid of you, Mr. Darley. My own Daddy was a bigger asshole than you. Roll over an' let me see!"
Billy sat up with a growl. He loomed over her as he stood, cold eyes staring her down. "Or else?"
"Or else nothin'," she huffed. "You wanna get infected? Even big, bad gang leaders can die from infections."
"Fuckin' nag," he sat back down grudgingly. "A' right, hurry the fuck up an' do it."
Beth shook her head. She checked his cuts over, taking the extra effort to not touch him more than necessary. He held still for her when she left and returned with the creams and new bandages. As soon as she stepped away, wiping her hands clean, Billy moved off the bed and began tugging his clothes on.
"Sir..." she looked down at the floor, "Is Joe..."
Billy paused, his jeans half done up. He silenced her with a fierce glare. She felt heat creep up her neck and she turned away, embarrassed. Beth gathered the first aid items and left the room, aware of his gaze following her.
XX
"Aww, don't be so mad, Bethie," Eddie held out the bottle of fabric softener for her. "He ain't like you an' me. Well...he ain't like you. Me, I know where he's comin' from."
Beth slammed the bottle down on the laundry table. "I don't care. He's such an ass! Bodie woulda left him to bleed out on the stairs. He coulda choked on his own vomit! Eddie, he was so drunk he could hardly walk up the stairs." She rubbed a hand over her hair. "And what do I get? A freak out of epic fuckin' proportions when I try an' make sure he doesn't end up infected or worse."
"What, you were expectin' thanks an' gratitude?"
"No, but not to be screamed at either,” she said. “He was...it was like he was about to explode. I've never seen him so angry."
Eddie stroked the short gray beard on his chin, deep in thought. "He had a panic attack...He ain't mad, he's embarrassed, Bethie. S' not somethin' a guy like him would want to admit to."
She uncapped the bottle and snorted under her breath, "The legendary Billy Darley havin' a panic attack. That doesn't sound right to me."
"Why not? He's a human, ain't he? He bleeds red blood, right?" Eddie laughed, elbowing her.
"Actually its green and burns on contact," she poured a capful of softener into the wash. "It's not that I don't believe it, it's...hard to picture is all."
Eddie nodded solemnly. "I've known Billy since he was a lil' guy. Worked for his Daddy long 'fore I switched over t' working alongside Billy. He had them freak outs when he was little. He don't like bein' touched, that's for sure."
Beth closed the lid to the washer. "Really...touched at all or...?"
"I figure," Eddie crossed his arms. "I figure, he doesn't like nice touches. His tattoos, it hurts gettin' 'em, depends on ya pain tolerance, but even the toughest wince at neck tats. He's got 'em up and down his neck, down to his shoulders; down his arms...that's a lotta fuckin' ink work. I won't lie, that'll hurt ya."
"So...he'll endure hours of needle pain but flinches and panics when I massage his neck?"
Eddie smirked a little. "Rubdowns won't get ya a pay raise, Bethie."
"Shut up or I'll soak your fat head," Beth shoved at him. "Move, will ya? I have to take the dry ones out. I wasn't 'rubbing' him down. He was tense an' hurting. I started rubbin' his neck to calm him down and he spun, screaming and swearing at me."
"So he freaked after you touched him, yeah that'd be right. He doesn't understand gentle touchin’; you think for one second that anyone ever gave him a hug?"
Beth frowned. "What about all the girls? He's always got some girl with him. He pays some of them."
"Girls like that, they ain't there for lovin' and kissin', Bethie," Eddie plucked the box of dryer sheets and offered her one. "They don't love him, they don't even like him. They want drugs or money, nothin' more than bein' able to say they were fucked by him."
She sighed. "How can he even live like this? Never being loved, never loving anyone. It's not right."
"He loves Joe, guess that's all he needs," Eddie shrugged.
"If he loved him, he wouldn't have forced him to do that stupid...ritual," she huffed. Beth threw the cling sheet into the dryer and slammed the door shut. "And for what? Some boy dies and Joe's in jail. He's lucky that car didn't kill him."
"Bethie," Eddie hugged her close, comforting her as best he could. "You don't know what they go through, I ain't much better, an' I've done shit that I ain't proud of when I was young. It's what they do, ya can't expect better from him."
Beth rested against Eddie, blinking back the tears that stung and prickled under her eyelids. "It's not right," she whispered again.
"Yeah, yeah I know," he murmured, rocking her in his big arms. "I know."
XX
Beth picked up bits of information from the men in the bar and from the television reports. Joe had been transferred to the nearest jail, after the doctors had deemed him fit for release, awaiting his trial. The father of the boy that had been killed, Nick Hume, Beth grieved for him. It didn't matter how much death and suffering she'd seen over the years. The clips on the television in the bar showed anguish in his eyes that ran bone deep and for that, Beth spent an extra few minutes each day praying for him and his family.
Billy spent his days in the bar, drinking silently. He did his rounds, sold what they were given by Bones and met with a few of their contacts. Beth avoided him as much as she could. She felt the strength of his gaze on her whenever she ventured out into the open area. She kept to herself, more so than usual.
"You gonna stand there mopin' all day or are you gonna help me with the shipments?" Sammy nudged her, a box cradled in his arms.
"Hm? Oh shit, yeah sorry, Sammy," Beth blinked and put her clipboard away. She followed him to the back room and grabbed the box cutter from the battered desk. "I'm not moping," she added. "I'm thinkin'."
"Uh huh, an' while you're thinkin', I'm strugglin' to unpack everything. C'mon girlie, focus yeah?" Sammy put the box down and stood up, cracking his back. He swore in Spanish, the colorful words bringing a smile to Beth's face. "What? Whatchu laughin' at?"
"You,” Beth grinned and dragged the cutter along the box. “Swearing sounds so much prettier in Spanish."
"S' part of my charm, Senorita," he winked at her. "Write the numbers down careful now, Big Bones be comin' to see the papers tomorrow."
"Yessir," she nodded. "Bones..." she wrinkled her nose and bent over the box, unpacking the bottles with great care.
Sammy unhooked the dolly from the wall and wheeled it over to the far door where the rest of the boxes remained. "Uh huh, the big man be comin'. He's some kinda pissed at the boys. Thinks they been skimmin' money off the cuts, an' this shit with Joe...'' he shook his head. ''Billy needs t' steer clear o' Bones."
Beth nipped her lower lip, catching it between her teeth. The last time Bones had gone after Billy, it had been three days before Billy would walk properly. She set the bottles on the work table. "Does he know Bones is comin'?''
''I warned him. I dun like what happens when he visits neither, an' the way he punishes him,'' Sammy unloaded the boxes next to her. ''We like family, y' know? Billy, he's family t' me.''
Beth jotted the numbers down, sighing. ''I wish I could help him...''
"You wanna help him? Then make sure that first aid kit be filled up," Sammy patted her shoulder.
XX
Beth stood in the bathroom the next day, one hand over her mouth. She was shaking, her palms slick with sweat. The low voices carried through the upper level of the Four Roses, anger and raw hatred thick in the air. A sharp crack echoed and a harsh cry was silenced within seconds. Beth closed her eyes, her stomach knotting up hard.
It was horrific, listening to the whistle and crack of a belt being wielded by a man of little decency. It went on, muffled pants and cries from the room at the end of the hall. Beth's shoulders hitched as she strove to calm herself. When the silence came eventually and the booming footsteps down the stairs faded, Beth tucked the first aid kit under her arm and all but ran to Billy's room.
Billy lay on the floor, stripped to his waist. His back gleamed with sweat and blood, large bruises rapidly forming on his skin. Beth closed the door, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She walked over to him, kneeling down at his side.
"Sir," she whispered, undoing the clasp to the kit.
"Get out," Billy hissed. He tensed up, edging away from her despite the pain that the simple movement caused.
Beth tore open the cleaning wipe and reached out, touching his shoulder. "Lay still, Sir, please."
"Get the fuck out!" he shouted, his back arching at the touch of the cloth. He cried out, his hands scrabbling weakly over the floor. "Get out, get out!"
Beth ignored him, cleaning his back as quickly as she dared. The bruises covered most of his back, a few superficial cuts spaced here and there. She guessed they were from the belt buckle digging cruelly into his skin.
Billy let out a small keening sound, his face pressed to the worn floorboard. "No..." he groaned, moving away from her fingers. "S-stop..."
"Shh, Sir, please, I'm almost done. I know...ok, I know it hurts. I'm gonna make it stop hurtin'."
"No..." he nearly whimpered, flinching under the gentle touch.
Beth wiped a mild numbing cream over the largest bruises. She wiped him clean, making soothing sounds while she did so. "It's ok," she murmured. "It'll be ok. It's gonna stop hurtin' soon."
Billy shifted, his head lying on her thigh. He took in slow breaths, his chest hitching with unshed tears. Beth ran the palm of her hand along his smooth scalp, rubbing gently over his neck. He pressed his face into her thigh, trembling under her fingers.
"Don't..."
Beth rubbed her thumb over his neck, tracing one black swirl. "Shh, I'm not hurtin' you, being nice shouldn't hafta hurt, Billy. It doesn't have to...see, this feels ok, right?" she coaxed.
He shuddered and closed his eyes. Beth kept up the gentle stroking until she felt his tremors stop. She touched his cheek, a small bruise on the cheekbone from Bones' slap. She smoothed her hand over his cheek. After a few minutes, it finally set in that he was asleep, that he'd fallen asleep on her.
Beth chuckled, amazed by the fact that she held one of the most feared gangsters in their part of town, safely nestled in her lap, beaten and abused and calmed by her touch. She stroked his neck and head, humming under her breath, afraid to break the spell.
Billy slept for the better part of an hour. He awoke with a start, staring up at her. Beth moved her hand to the side, awaiting the furious explosion. Billy sat up, his body stiff and aching. He ran a hand over his face, composing himself.
"He gone?" he rasped, avoiding eye contact with her.
"Yeah, he left a while ago," Beth looked at the floor, her body tensed.
Billy reached for his sweater and tugged it on, hissing when it scraped along his back. He dug around on the dresser for his cigarettes and lighter. He lit one, his hands trembling. Beth stood as well, gathering the remnants of the kit. She packed them away and straightened her apron.
"Eddie's comin' with some food for you," she murmured.
Billy nodded and walked over to the window, shuffling slowly. He took a long drag on the cigarette, sighing when he exhaled. Beth swallowed and moved away, her hand on the doorknob. Billy looked back at her. He looked scared, she thought for a fleeting moment. Afraid and unsure of himself.
She offered him a slight smile and left the room. She closed the door behind her, pretending she couldn't hear the muffled breaths on the other side, a near silent flow of tears that he'd never show anyone.
XX
Author: veiledndarkness
Pairing: Billy/OFC
Rating: R
Summary: She sees everything, she’s watching him fall.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit made and no harm intended.
AU follows storyline of movie somewhat.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
XX
It was with great reluctance that Beth checked on Billy the next morning. On one hand, she was furious with herself and him, on the other, she was greatly worried that he might still be angry enough to fire her. She tied her hair back with quick movements, a small frown creasing her forehead. With a sigh, Beth made her way up the stairs, resigned to dealing with the aftermath of Billy's freak out.
She pushed the door open when there was no response. Billy lay sprawled across the bed. He'd managed to take his boots, jeans and shirt off and now he was clad only in his shorts. He was frowning deeply in his sleep, his hands gripping fistfuls of the sheets beneath him.
She crossed herself, thankful that he was still alive. She'd been sure that he'd suffered a concussion. She opened the window, sneezing from the smoke that lingered in the room. Billy sighed and rolled over, the bruising on his neck visible then.
Beth edged closer to the bed, biting her lip. "Billy..." she whispered.
He grunted, tugging the sheet over his head. "G' out," he mumbled.
She took another step closer to the bed. "Sir," she touched his shoulder very carefully. "It's Beth."
He opened his bloodshot eyes, glaring at her. "What part o' get the fuck out is unclear?"
"Your head...you've got cuts, I need to check them. They could get infected."
Billy curled back up. "I don't give a shit. Get outta here."
Beth breathed in deeply, gathering her courage. "No, not until you let me check. Stop bein' so damned stubborn for once."
He stared up at her, speechless in his outrage. "Oh, you’d best watch who you're talkin' to. If you wanna keep breathin', you will get...the...fuck...out," he said slowly.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I am not afraid of you, Mr. Darley. My own Daddy was a bigger asshole than you. Roll over an' let me see!"
Billy sat up with a growl. He loomed over her as he stood, cold eyes staring her down. "Or else?"
"Or else nothin'," she huffed. "You wanna get infected? Even big, bad gang leaders can die from infections."
"Fuckin' nag," he sat back down grudgingly. "A' right, hurry the fuck up an' do it."
Beth shook her head. She checked his cuts over, taking the extra effort to not touch him more than necessary. He held still for her when she left and returned with the creams and new bandages. As soon as she stepped away, wiping her hands clean, Billy moved off the bed and began tugging his clothes on.
"Sir..." she looked down at the floor, "Is Joe..."
Billy paused, his jeans half done up. He silenced her with a fierce glare. She felt heat creep up her neck and she turned away, embarrassed. Beth gathered the first aid items and left the room, aware of his gaze following her.
XX
"Aww, don't be so mad, Bethie," Eddie held out the bottle of fabric softener for her. "He ain't like you an' me. Well...he ain't like you. Me, I know where he's comin' from."
Beth slammed the bottle down on the laundry table. "I don't care. He's such an ass! Bodie woulda left him to bleed out on the stairs. He coulda choked on his own vomit! Eddie, he was so drunk he could hardly walk up the stairs." She rubbed a hand over her hair. "And what do I get? A freak out of epic fuckin' proportions when I try an' make sure he doesn't end up infected or worse."
"What, you were expectin' thanks an' gratitude?"
"No, but not to be screamed at either,” she said. “He was...it was like he was about to explode. I've never seen him so angry."
Eddie stroked the short gray beard on his chin, deep in thought. "He had a panic attack...He ain't mad, he's embarrassed, Bethie. S' not somethin' a guy like him would want to admit to."
She uncapped the bottle and snorted under her breath, "The legendary Billy Darley havin' a panic attack. That doesn't sound right to me."
"Why not? He's a human, ain't he? He bleeds red blood, right?" Eddie laughed, elbowing her.
"Actually its green and burns on contact," she poured a capful of softener into the wash. "It's not that I don't believe it, it's...hard to picture is all."
Eddie nodded solemnly. "I've known Billy since he was a lil' guy. Worked for his Daddy long 'fore I switched over t' working alongside Billy. He had them freak outs when he was little. He don't like bein' touched, that's for sure."
Beth closed the lid to the washer. "Really...touched at all or...?"
"I figure," Eddie crossed his arms. "I figure, he doesn't like nice touches. His tattoos, it hurts gettin' 'em, depends on ya pain tolerance, but even the toughest wince at neck tats. He's got 'em up and down his neck, down to his shoulders; down his arms...that's a lotta fuckin' ink work. I won't lie, that'll hurt ya."
"So...he'll endure hours of needle pain but flinches and panics when I massage his neck?"
Eddie smirked a little. "Rubdowns won't get ya a pay raise, Bethie."
"Shut up or I'll soak your fat head," Beth shoved at him. "Move, will ya? I have to take the dry ones out. I wasn't 'rubbing' him down. He was tense an' hurting. I started rubbin' his neck to calm him down and he spun, screaming and swearing at me."
"So he freaked after you touched him, yeah that'd be right. He doesn't understand gentle touchin’; you think for one second that anyone ever gave him a hug?"
Beth frowned. "What about all the girls? He's always got some girl with him. He pays some of them."
"Girls like that, they ain't there for lovin' and kissin', Bethie," Eddie plucked the box of dryer sheets and offered her one. "They don't love him, they don't even like him. They want drugs or money, nothin' more than bein' able to say they were fucked by him."
She sighed. "How can he even live like this? Never being loved, never loving anyone. It's not right."
"He loves Joe, guess that's all he needs," Eddie shrugged.
"If he loved him, he wouldn't have forced him to do that stupid...ritual," she huffed. Beth threw the cling sheet into the dryer and slammed the door shut. "And for what? Some boy dies and Joe's in jail. He's lucky that car didn't kill him."
"Bethie," Eddie hugged her close, comforting her as best he could. "You don't know what they go through, I ain't much better, an' I've done shit that I ain't proud of when I was young. It's what they do, ya can't expect better from him."
Beth rested against Eddie, blinking back the tears that stung and prickled under her eyelids. "It's not right," she whispered again.
"Yeah, yeah I know," he murmured, rocking her in his big arms. "I know."
XX
Beth picked up bits of information from the men in the bar and from the television reports. Joe had been transferred to the nearest jail, after the doctors had deemed him fit for release, awaiting his trial. The father of the boy that had been killed, Nick Hume, Beth grieved for him. It didn't matter how much death and suffering she'd seen over the years. The clips on the television in the bar showed anguish in his eyes that ran bone deep and for that, Beth spent an extra few minutes each day praying for him and his family.
Billy spent his days in the bar, drinking silently. He did his rounds, sold what they were given by Bones and met with a few of their contacts. Beth avoided him as much as she could. She felt the strength of his gaze on her whenever she ventured out into the open area. She kept to herself, more so than usual.
"You gonna stand there mopin' all day or are you gonna help me with the shipments?" Sammy nudged her, a box cradled in his arms.
"Hm? Oh shit, yeah sorry, Sammy," Beth blinked and put her clipboard away. She followed him to the back room and grabbed the box cutter from the battered desk. "I'm not moping," she added. "I'm thinkin'."
"Uh huh, an' while you're thinkin', I'm strugglin' to unpack everything. C'mon girlie, focus yeah?" Sammy put the box down and stood up, cracking his back. He swore in Spanish, the colorful words bringing a smile to Beth's face. "What? Whatchu laughin' at?"
"You,” Beth grinned and dragged the cutter along the box. “Swearing sounds so much prettier in Spanish."
"S' part of my charm, Senorita," he winked at her. "Write the numbers down careful now, Big Bones be comin' to see the papers tomorrow."
"Yessir," she nodded. "Bones..." she wrinkled her nose and bent over the box, unpacking the bottles with great care.
Sammy unhooked the dolly from the wall and wheeled it over to the far door where the rest of the boxes remained. "Uh huh, the big man be comin'. He's some kinda pissed at the boys. Thinks they been skimmin' money off the cuts, an' this shit with Joe...'' he shook his head. ''Billy needs t' steer clear o' Bones."
Beth nipped her lower lip, catching it between her teeth. The last time Bones had gone after Billy, it had been three days before Billy would walk properly. She set the bottles on the work table. "Does he know Bones is comin'?''
''I warned him. I dun like what happens when he visits neither, an' the way he punishes him,'' Sammy unloaded the boxes next to her. ''We like family, y' know? Billy, he's family t' me.''
Beth jotted the numbers down, sighing. ''I wish I could help him...''
"You wanna help him? Then make sure that first aid kit be filled up," Sammy patted her shoulder.
XX
Beth stood in the bathroom the next day, one hand over her mouth. She was shaking, her palms slick with sweat. The low voices carried through the upper level of the Four Roses, anger and raw hatred thick in the air. A sharp crack echoed and a harsh cry was silenced within seconds. Beth closed her eyes, her stomach knotting up hard.
It was horrific, listening to the whistle and crack of a belt being wielded by a man of little decency. It went on, muffled pants and cries from the room at the end of the hall. Beth's shoulders hitched as she strove to calm herself. When the silence came eventually and the booming footsteps down the stairs faded, Beth tucked the first aid kit under her arm and all but ran to Billy's room.
Billy lay on the floor, stripped to his waist. His back gleamed with sweat and blood, large bruises rapidly forming on his skin. Beth closed the door, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She walked over to him, kneeling down at his side.
"Sir," she whispered, undoing the clasp to the kit.
"Get out," Billy hissed. He tensed up, edging away from her despite the pain that the simple movement caused.
Beth tore open the cleaning wipe and reached out, touching his shoulder. "Lay still, Sir, please."
"Get the fuck out!" he shouted, his back arching at the touch of the cloth. He cried out, his hands scrabbling weakly over the floor. "Get out, get out!"
Beth ignored him, cleaning his back as quickly as she dared. The bruises covered most of his back, a few superficial cuts spaced here and there. She guessed they were from the belt buckle digging cruelly into his skin.
Billy let out a small keening sound, his face pressed to the worn floorboard. "No..." he groaned, moving away from her fingers. "S-stop..."
"Shh, Sir, please, I'm almost done. I know...ok, I know it hurts. I'm gonna make it stop hurtin'."
"No..." he nearly whimpered, flinching under the gentle touch.
Beth wiped a mild numbing cream over the largest bruises. She wiped him clean, making soothing sounds while she did so. "It's ok," she murmured. "It'll be ok. It's gonna stop hurtin' soon."
Billy shifted, his head lying on her thigh. He took in slow breaths, his chest hitching with unshed tears. Beth ran the palm of her hand along his smooth scalp, rubbing gently over his neck. He pressed his face into her thigh, trembling under her fingers.
"Don't..."
Beth rubbed her thumb over his neck, tracing one black swirl. "Shh, I'm not hurtin' you, being nice shouldn't hafta hurt, Billy. It doesn't have to...see, this feels ok, right?" she coaxed.
He shuddered and closed his eyes. Beth kept up the gentle stroking until she felt his tremors stop. She touched his cheek, a small bruise on the cheekbone from Bones' slap. She smoothed her hand over his cheek. After a few minutes, it finally set in that he was asleep, that he'd fallen asleep on her.
Beth chuckled, amazed by the fact that she held one of the most feared gangsters in their part of town, safely nestled in her lap, beaten and abused and calmed by her touch. She stroked his neck and head, humming under her breath, afraid to break the spell.
Billy slept for the better part of an hour. He awoke with a start, staring up at her. Beth moved her hand to the side, awaiting the furious explosion. Billy sat up, his body stiff and aching. He ran a hand over his face, composing himself.
"He gone?" he rasped, avoiding eye contact with her.
"Yeah, he left a while ago," Beth looked at the floor, her body tensed.
Billy reached for his sweater and tugged it on, hissing when it scraped along his back. He dug around on the dresser for his cigarettes and lighter. He lit one, his hands trembling. Beth stood as well, gathering the remnants of the kit. She packed them away and straightened her apron.
"Eddie's comin' with some food for you," she murmured.
Billy nodded and walked over to the window, shuffling slowly. He took a long drag on the cigarette, sighing when he exhaled. Beth swallowed and moved away, her hand on the doorknob. Billy looked back at her. He looked scared, she thought for a fleeting moment. Afraid and unsure of himself.
She offered him a slight smile and left the room. She closed the door behind her, pretending she couldn't hear the muffled breaths on the other side, a near silent flow of tears that he'd never show anyone.
XX
