#pd1

“So, I figured out what you guys do for a livin',” I said. His fingers that were typing on the keyboard had paused, hovering over the keys when I spoke.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, his body tensing up.

“Yeah. Look, I don’t care that you rob banks and shit. I don’t have any moral obligation to do anythin' with that information, but I couldn’t sleep last night and ended up talking to Hoxton. He filled in the gaps for the most part and now after really thinkin' about it, I wanna work with you.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Dallas said curtly, his fingers moving again.

“Why not?” I frowned, bristling at the immediate decline. “Houston works with you.”

“Houston has years of experience and a record already. He knows what he’s doing and how to keep himself alive,” Dallas said, his brows furrowing more than usual. I huffed, moving closer to his desk, hating that he wouldn’t even stop what he doing to fuckin’ look at me.

“I can learn, though. Hoxton already said that-” I tried to insist before he cut me off.

“Hoxton doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about,” Dallas snapped, training his eyes on me as he stood from his desk. “You don’t need to get involved with our business. I gave you the choice of either going back to Chicago or staying here and keeping your nose clean. Becoming a criminal was not part of that.”

“What the fuck do I do then!?” I cried, throwing my arms up. “Do I just sit around here and twiddle my thumbs!? Do I become the fuckin’ nanny or some shit?! Why can’t I work with you guys!? If it’s because I don’t know shit then fuckin’ teach me!” My voice started to get higher and shriller as I continued, begging him practically. “I need something that isn’t just-just-fuck!”

“This is not up for negotiation!” He snarled, slamming his hand onto the desk. “You want something to do? Look into getting your GED or learning to drive or some sort of hobby that isn’t illegal or criminal! I don’t have time to hold your hand and show you how to do shit you should already know how to do! End of discussion!” We stared each other down, my hands curled into tight fists, shaking at my sides. That. . . He must have seen how deep that went, his face softening as he sat back down, the tension gone as he slumped into his chair.

“You’re such a fuckin’ prick,” I whimpered, angry and sniffling as tears started to blur my vision. Turning on my heel, I left his office, slamming the door behind me with a satisfying bang. Keeping my eyes down, unable to look anyone in the eye, I passed through the kitchen. Everyone would have heard us yelling, the office wasn’t exactly sound proof. I decided to go to the garage and sit outside for a bit to calm down. The weather was dreary and chilly, even for mid-October in Washington D.C.

Houston watched me walk out the open garage door, but didn’t stop me or try to question why I was upset. He was probably the only person there that didn’t hear me and Dallas screaming at one another. There was no way to tell how he would have handled our brother being such a dick in general, let alone to me.

Sitting down on a set of old tires, I held onto that last thought. Would Houston really go to bat for me if Dallas was that pissed? Sure, he had tried to keep the peace my first night here, but Dallas was the boss. If he said no, then would Houston have to accept it? Hoxton was more than likely in hot water when I mentioned him, but I wasn’t sure if that mattered to him. The longer I sat there, brewing in my doubts and fears, the more I felt like a petulant child.

I couldn’t play with the toys I wanted so I was throwing a tantrum about it.

Huffing out a sigh, I wiped at my eyes as I willed them to stop getting teary. He didn’t even ask why I wanted to work with him. There were no questions about how I was feeling or if I was sure or anything. Worse, I was really expecting him to be a brother to me, in any capacity. Why didn’t he show any sort of worry or emotion other than irritation that I was just fuckin’ existing around him?

“You wanna talk about it, Gus Gus?” Derek asked, coming out to stand next to me with a lit cigarette in hand. I glanced up to see him looking out at the spitting rain over the concrete parking area. Dressed in mechanic overalls and covered in grease and grime, he looked right at home where he was. Not as a criminal, but working under the hood of a car with music playing softly in the garage.

“No. . . Yes,” I said, letting another huff out as I forced myself to breathe deeper. “Got into it with Nathan. I figured out what you guys do for work, well more specifics of it, and I went to him to tell him as well as ask to work with you guys.”

“He said ‘No’, right?” Derek asked as he lifted his cigarette to his lips, taking a drag off it.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding as I looked back down at my hands.

“I agree with him,” he said. “This isn’t a life you choose on a whim or to follow the crowd.”

“But it wasn’t on a whim,” I said, trying to keep my voice from getting shrill again and sounding like I was whining. “I need this, Derek. There’s nothing else for me out there. At best, my boss just fired me without caring that I didn’t show up for several days and at worst he filed a police report that I was missing. If I go somewhere else, even Chicago, they’ll run my name and see everything then questions will be asked about Dad and then it won’t matter.”

He made a disgruntled grumbling noise as he shifted on his feet, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Look, this wasn’t even my first idea to go after,” I said, anxiety writhing in my belly like snakes as it crept up into my chest. “I don’t have any other option. Not any real ones. . . This wasn’t even my idea to begin with.”

“Whose was it then?” Derek asked, moving to face me more.

“Hoxton’s,” I said, getting ready for an angry outburst or insult thrown at the Brit.

“Don’t fuckin’ listen to that ass,” Derek growled softly. “He has no clue what he’s even talkin’ about.”

“That’s what Dallas said too,” I said, feeling a lump in my throat start to form.

“Well, he’s right about it,” he said, tossing his cigarette butt on the ground to stomp it out.

“What the fuck do I do then, Derek!?” I yelled, standing up. He gave me a startled look as I got louder. “What the fuck do I do!? I have nothing! Dad took everything from me and now I’m expected to be this fuckin’ inspirational story of over coming odds when I’m dead in the water if I even try to do anything! I don’t have a fuckin’ license, I don’t have my GED, I don’t have a fuckin’ bank account or any money of my own, so what do I do?!” I started to pace as I felt myself going insane from having to say this over and over as people ignored me. “I have no skills and no connections except for you and what do I do with that?! This work is something that I can do and I can be good at. You just have to fuckin’ give me a chance!”

Derek was quiet as he watched me closely, like I was a wild animal he was trying to deem a threat or not.

“You had a choice when you started doin’ this shit. But I don’t. I was having a fuckin’ panic attack last night and was trying to calm down outside on the landing so I didn’t bother anyone because I am so fuckin’ lost right now,” my voice cracked as I pleaded with him, spilling my guts to him, for the most part. “That’s where Hoxton found me. He talked to me and suggested this. Please, Derek, I’m asking for help here. I am alone and fuckin’ scared. Help me find a purpose with myself. My whole, boring, sad life has been upended and I’m starting over again.” His expression softened at that. There were a few moments of silence before he spoke again.

“I, uh, I didn’t realize how bad it was,” he said, scratching at his jaw. “I knew you were depressed and anxious, but I thought maybe some time would help and you’d be able to get back on your feet. . .” I nodded, feeling a weight lifted from my chest. Derek knew now and he seemed more ready to help. “Come on, let’s have a seat and talk about it a bit.” Waving me to follow him back into the garage, he headed back in after I began to follow him.

He sat back down at his work bench in the garage, tools and car parts in different bins, spread out. I moved to perch on a stool near him. The sound of his phone playing some music quietly in the background with the garage door open made for a rather calming area. I got why he liked it so much compared to any other place inside. Derek pulled another cigarette from a crumpled pack on his tool bench, using a lighter he had sat next to the pack. Taking a long drag, he let it out slowly before setting the smoldering cigarette in an ashtray.

“I want to make sure that you’re sure about this. There’s no going back once you start and any chance of having a normal life at all is gone. It’s dangerous and there’s no guarantee any of us walk away from a job. You gotta be okay with possibly seeing me or Dallas or any of the others get hurt or killed, probably in a really fuckin’ gnarly way.”

“Even if I wasn’t on the job, there’s still a chance you’d die the same way. If I’m there though, at least I know for sure that I did everything I could to help you guys,” I said. It was true. No matter where I was, after everything I would have to be okay with knowing that my brothers’ lives were probably going to be short and end bloody. Derek nodded, picking his smoke up for another drag, holding onto it this time.

“Okay. But there’s conditions. I’m not jokin’ or playin’ some fuckin’ game either. You meet these conditions or you don’t work with us, got it?” He said, staring at me hard, the fingers holding his smoke pointing at me as I nodded.

“I won’t fight you on the conditions,” I said softly, hoping they wouldn’t be ridiculous or some sort of loop hole to keep me from doing jobs.

“I want you to get with Chains and get physically fit. If he says you’re good on that front, I trust him to make sure you’re able to keep up and take care of yourself. Anyone can teach you the guns, Wolf might be a good idea 'cause he’s a patient motherfucker. And as much as I hate to say it, talk to Hoxton about cracking locks and safes. He’s the best lockpick I know,” Derek paused, taking a breath and a drag from his smoke. “I would feel good about this if we made you as ready as possible before you did anything, with or without us. You’re my baby sister and I don’t want anything to fuckin’ happen to you, but I know you also need something in your life. I guess our family is fuckin’ cursed to go this route no matter what,” he said, letting out a bitter laugh.

“I don’t know about curses, but it is funny that we all ended up here. Not funny in a ‘ha ha’ way, but funny ‘weird’ way,” I said.

“I get it,” Derek said, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “Look, I’ll talk to Dallas and ease him into it. You’re not gonna hop into a heist right away by any means, so that gives me time to get him on board. While I’m doing that, you need to bulk the fuck up at least. If you’re gonna work with us, you gotta fuckin’ get some stamina and strength in your pool noodle body.”

“You mean I gotta work out?” I groaned, pulling a face as Houston rolled his eyes.

“Do you wanna fuckin’ work with us or bitch and moan about shit?” He huffed out a laugh.

“I guess so,” I said, sighing dramatically. This felt like regular sibling shit. Empty insults instead of soft, comforting words that weren’t necessary. It was a slice of normalcy that my sanity desperately needed. “So, when do you leave for your next job and who’s goin’?”

“Me, Dallas, Hoxton, and Sokol. We leave tomorrow and should be back in about a week or less,” Houston said, standing up to stretch after setting his cigarette back into the ashtray.

“So just me, Wolf, and Chains then?” I asked, standing as well.

“Oh, uh, Clover will be here. She should show up any time now. She’s good to learn from too,” Derek said, pocketing his pack of smokes and lighter before picking up his still lit cigarette. “Ask her about training you with her burglar expertise.”

“What’s the difference between burglaring and robbing banks?” I asked, scrunching my nose.

“Stealth,” Derek said, letting out a long breath after a deep inhale of his smoke. “Most of us usually go loud real quick. That’s why I mentioned her. She’s good at stayin' quiet and out of sight.”

“Gotcha,” I said, mentally filing away her name for later.

“Feel better?” He asked, his eyes flitting over me to see if I was telling the truth.

“Yeah, I do,” I said, sighing. “Thank you for listenin' to me and not just shuttin' me down.”

“No problem,” Derek said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze. “Now, go bother Hoxton or someone else, you little shit.”

______________________________________________________________

While Houston took on Dallas, I sought out Chains. I had found him in his armory sorting ammo. Usually the door was closed, but he had it open and I let myself in. The room was big enough to house enough weapons to take on the zombie apocalypse. Yeah, he was definitely the one to learn from.

“Hey, kid, what’s up?” He asked, setting down the body of a gun he was taking apart.

“I have a favor to ask. Kind of a favor,” I said, coming over to stand next to the table he was at. “It’s. . . I don’t know what to call it, but the long short of it is that Houston will talk to Dallas about me working with you guys, BUT I need to be taught how to do stuff. He said you would be a good place to start with helping me get stronger and faster.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” Chains said with a nod. “We’ll start with endurance training. Which means getting your flat ass up at 5 AM and going for a run with me. Think you can do that?”

“Yes, because I can, but also because you said I have a flat ass,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Well, if it gets you motivated, then I’ll keep it up,” he said with a chuckle. “Once we get your stamina up, we’ll work more on gaining muscle and fighting. You’ll have to be able to swing hard and fast as well as take a hit. If you stick with it, you’ll be heist ready in a few months. At least.”

It felt like it would take forever, but this was what I wanted. Even though it was just the start, I was actually excited. While the physical training would start the next day, Chains gave me a crash course on EVERYTHING. From handguns and grenades to cloakers and dozers, there was so much more than I originally thought. It was daunting, but Chains reassured me that it would take time and that was fine.

He gave me a manual that went over most of the armory for me to read and study till I could get with Wolf, even if I wasn’t sure I would use it or need it. I learned better with hands on and pictures rather than words and numbers. Not that I told him that. Giving Dallas any ammo to keep me from doing this was off the table. Spending the rest of the day getting a routine planned out, I was pleased with how things were going.

But of course when it came to sitting down and reading the manuals Chains gave me that evening, I wanted to huck the things into a fireplace. I wasn’t ever lying or being dramatic when I said I couldn’t read or write. While I could do basic stuff, anything above like fourth grade was hard. I had always had trouble with reading and writing, the letters and numbers would flip around or rearrange and I had no idea how to combat that. With less than willing teachers, I gave up and stuck to blocky, shorthand. It worked at the diner, but these manuals were going to be the death of me.

______________________________________________________________

I woke up early to make sure I was able to see Houston and the others off. As much as he tried to come off as this hardened criminal, he was becoming a mother hen with me, especially after our latest talk. Fretting over the smallest stuff till I was shoving him out the garage door with a playfully annoyed groan.

“I will be fine, Hou,” I said, chuckling as Houston gave me a list of where he had things stashed so that if I wanted to use them, I could. Ranging from tools to food to clothes. ”I will have three other able bodied adults with me.”

“I know, but it’s the first job with you here and we won’t be able to talk till we get back,” he said softly, looking me over before ruffling my hair. “Come‘re Gus.” Pulling me in, he wrapped his arms around me tightly. “Stay out of trouble, ‘kay? At least till I get back.”

“I will,” I hummed into his chest. We gave one last tight squeeze before letting go. Houston picked up his bags and gear then headed towards the van, giving me one last wave before getting in.

“Keep Wolfie in line, Mary,” Hoxton said, strolling to me. “Ye think yer brother’s bad, wait till Wolf finds out ye need help with somethin’. You’ll have ta beat him off with a stick. He needs a firm hand, so don’t be scared to give him a few disciplinary spanks on the haunches.”

“Hoxton,” Wolf whined. It was an odd noise to hear the technician make for the first time. Glancing up, I saw his cheeks turning red as he moved to stand next to me for the send offs.

“Just makin’ sure she knows how to deal with your nerves,” Hoxton snickered, leaning in and giving Wolf a quick peck on the lips as he smirked. “We’ll be back before ye know it, love.”

“Var försiktig, snälla,” Wolf mumbled, grabbing Hoxton’s waist to hold him there a beat longer, pressing his forehead to the Brit’s.

“Always am, Wolfie. Take care of the house and Mary. God knows she needs all the help,” he said, nuzzling the Swede before pulling away. Wolf whined softly, letting go of Hoxton reluctantly, holding on to his hand as it slipped out of his grasp. Sokol passed the two of us with claps on our shoulders and a nod before he loaded up his stuff as well.

That left Dallas. The man walked out, going to Wolf first. “Keep the house in order. Clover will be here in a day or so,” he said to the man, who nodded in return before turning to me. We stared at one another, unsure as we hadn’t seen one another or spoken since our screaming match the day before.

“Do, uh, do good crime,” I said, trying to at least make this not terrible even if we didn’t get along. An odd olive branch of sorts. He stared at me a moment only to turn and walk away. I had to restrain myself from running after him to swing on the fucker. Fine. Whatever. Fuck him.

“He’s focused on the job, so he gets kind of quiet,” Wolf offered. My face was quickly heating up from the surge of rage that filled me as the van pulled out of the garage, leaving us there.

“Yeah. Sure,” I said, swallowing hard to keep myself from choking up. Working my jaw hard to keep from grinding my teeth, I turned on my heel to head back inside.

______________________________________________

As much as I tried to tell myself that it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, I could not shake the indignation of him snubbing me. What was his problem? Since I got there he was doing everything he could to get rid of me. He was the one that chose to fuck off when I was a kid. Why did I need to be punished for doing what he told me to do? He gave me the fuckin’ card! What was fuckin’ wrong with him that he had to push me away at every chance he could instead of pull me in?

He avoided me at all costs. He hid in his room or office or wherever I wasn’t. So even if I wanted to try to build a relationship or anything like that I couldn’t because he kept everyone out! God! Nathan was such a fuckin’ asshole!

“Careful, you’re swingin’ wide and hard,” Chain said, bringing me back to us sparring. We had started off with light exercises and warm ups before going to sparring practice after lunch. It wasn’t until I nearly flew forward after a missed swing that I got out of my head. “You’re doin’ good, don’t fuck it up by not keeping your form tight.” I nodded, panting softly as I realigned myself and focused on the present in front of me. “Whatever has you pissed off can wait. Anything and everything goes out the window when we do a job. There’s no fuckin’ around with this shit, got it?”

“Got it,” I said, getting my swing back in line. We didn’t stop for over an hour till I was nearly swimming in my own sweat and about to fall over.

“Okay, let’s take five,” Chains said, putting the mitts down. He grabbed up a bottle of water to toss to me as I relaxed my stance. Catching the bottle, I twisted off the cap before taking a few big gulps. “Don’t chug it, you’ll get sick.” Giving him a thumbs up, I paused to let myself breathe a bit before a few more sips.

“Fuck, this is hard,” I said, wiping my face with the back of my wrapped hand.

“Yep, but it’s a fun hard, right?” Chains asked, getting a grin from me as I nodded. “I thought so. You’re a lot like your brothers. Can’t sit still for shit and if you don’t have something to preoccupy yourself with then everyone else suffers.”

“I don’t make you guys suffer,” I shot back.

“Not yet,” he snorted, taking a sip of his own water. “But it’s never anything we can’t get over. Mostly Houston fixes something that doesn’t need to be fixed and Dallas reworks plans for jobs four different times before he actually finalizes it. Which is a fuckin’ pain in the ass when he has to have different people involved in the planning.”

“Huh,” I said, frowning slightly. “Didn’t know that about Dallas.”

“He’s a surprising guy,” Chains said with a nod.

“To be fair, I don’t know much about him at all,” I sighed, walking around in circles a bit as the anger from before found its way back to drive me crazy.

“You were pretty young when he left home, right?” Chains asked, taking a seat on a nearby bench as he let me pace.

“Yeah. I never lived with him. He was like almost 20 when I was born. Houston was the one I grew up with,” I said. “Houston was 7ish I think when I got there. We were pretty close, but Dallas was. . . I don’t know. He wasn’t there. I’d see him now and then, but it took a while for me to recognize him or to even know that he was my older brother. He and Houston grew up together and had their fun brother stuff, but I didn’t get that with him.”

“Is that what Houston told you?” Chains asked.

“Yes and no. I heard from Houston and saw the pictures,” I explained, resting my arms on top of my head. It helped keep me from feeling like my chest would implode. “Dallas would take him to the lake sometimes or just out for the day to get away from our Mom and Dad. I guess when I came around he was too busy or something.” My pacing slowed down till I was standing still in front of Chains. “Like, I get he was an adult and shit, but come on. Did he think I would just disappear or I would end up somewhere else and never need him? He fuckin’ knew who I lived with and it never occurred to him that maybe I would need some checking on? I get Houston not knowing, he was also a kid when our parents separated and our parents probably wouldn’t talk to him about it, but Dallas was an adult! Didn’t he fuckin’ care?! God! He’s such a fuckin’ asshole!” I yelled at the ground, my voice echoing in the gym area.

“Sounds like you two should talk,” Chains said after he let my outburst hang in the air. “I know that sounds dumb as shit, but Jesus. You three are too much alike and have no idea.”

“Oh fuck off,” I sighed heavily, letting my arms flopping to my sides.

“I’m serious. I know as much about you as what you just told me, but from being around all of you for almost a week. . . I’m not shittin’ you when I say you three are peas in a pod and are just too stupid to notice,” he chuckled.

“I don’t know if I should be offended or irritated,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Either, I don’t give a shit,” Chains said, standing up. “But when this job they’re on is over, get the three of you together and talk. None of us are good at it, so it’ll be like pullin’ teeth, but it definitely needs to happen. It’ll make everyone’s lives easier in the long run, not just yours.”

Rolling my eyes, I nodded. He was right. My brothers and I needed to talk if this was going to work, no matter how much Dallas infuriated me.

______________________________________________

“Fuck, it’s good to be in this place again,” a lilted woman’s voice said, coming from the front entrance area. I was in the kitchen making some food while Wolf was in his shop and Chains in his room. “Looket that, it’s not often we get a new face ‘round here,” she said. Turning around, I saw a woman with a magenta stripe in her hair, walking in with a bag over her shoulder.

”Huh, oh, hey,” I said, waving after I pulled the pot of macaroni off the stove. “I’m Austin.”

“Clover,” the woman said with a nod, dropping her bag off by the island in the kitchen. “Right. I heard we had another Dallas siblin’ join us.”

“Really? Wow, word travels fast around here,” I said with a snort.

“Oh, word travels lightnin’ fast,” she said, chuckling. “If Bain knows, we know.”

“Bain? Wait, who’s that? Are they another heister?” I asked, confused by the new name. No one had mentioned him before. Chains had gone over who we might run into police wise, because holy shit those bastards were a lot better armed than I had thought. I was already freaked out by the idea of cloakers most of all.

“Not really. Bain doesn’t necessarily work with us, but more like above us. He’s the one that brought us all together and gets us our jobs, and most importantly, makes sure we get paid,” Clover explained. “I’m surprised no one’s mentioned him yet. I don’t think anythin’ has ever happened around us without him knowin’.”

“Wait, so Dallas isn’t actually in charge of everyone here?” I frowned, even more confused by this development.

”Ha! Dallas is barely in charge of himself! He’s like a priest, the mouth of God, to Bain. Dallas only tells us what the big man told ‘im. The man probably didn’t say anythin’ so he could boss ye ‘round as much as possible without the pushback,” she said, leaning against the kitchen island. “Yer pasta should probably be strained.” I looked at the pot in my hand, still full of steaming water and pasta that I had been holding for way too long in the open air.

“Aw, shit,” I mumbled, carrying it to the sink to dump into the colander.

“Ye really are fresh meat then,” Clover chuckled. “Do ye have a record? Anythin’ ye bring to the table?”

“Well, I’ve never been arrested and I’ve never really been in trouble before, at least legal wise. I’ve just kinda kept my head down and put up with shit for most of my life,” I said, dumping the pasta back into the pot, adding the milk and cheese powder to it.

“Huh,” she hummed, leaning against the island as she watched me closely. “How’d ye end up here? I take it Bain didn’t pluck ye from the shadows for nothin’.”

“Long story short, I hadn’t seen either of my brothers in decades only to stumble upon Dallas in the diner I worked at. He gave me a card for if I ever needed anything. Fast forward to last week, I killed our abusive piece of shit father with a hammer to the skull and called the card Dallas gave me. Turns out it was Vlad’s number on there and now I’m here,” I explained, dumping the whole pot of mac and cheese into a large bowl.

“Ah,” she said with a nod. “Sounds like somethin’ that would end up on Bain’s radar. No one sneezes ‘round here without him bein’ ready with a tissue.”

“I have a lot to catch up on,” I sighed, filling the pot with water in the sink to let it soak. “Like, a fuckin’ lot. Which is part of the deal if I want to work with you guys. But it seems like Bain is an important person to know about.” It meant that Dallas didn’t actually have the final say in me joining or not. This Bain guy did and that was a lot fuckin’ different than getting my brothers’ okays.

“Ye really are new to this life?” Clover asked, frowning as she followed me with her eyes. She had this aura about her that I couldn’t figure out if it was hostile or tough love or what. She seemed pretty affable towards me, keeping her distance physically.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m working with Chains to get physically ready for the work mostly right now and Houston said to talk to you about learning how to burgle and shit,” I said, leaning against the counter.

”Oh, that’s lovely of him to volunteer my services without askin’ me first. It’s polite to give me a heads up that I’m gonna be babysittin’ while he’s out,” she said with a scoff and an eye roll. I may have a hard time with social cues, but anyone could tell she was not happy with this news. Pushing herself away from the island, she cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders as I floundered for how to respond to her. “So, how long have ye been trainin’ with Chains?”

“Like a few days. We’re doing mostly cardio and fighting right now,” I said, stirring my food slightly.

“Right. So ye can’t even tell me what position ye would have,” Clover sighed. “Look, yer probably a real nice lass, but nice gets ye shot. When Bain says I have to train ye, then we’ll work together. Till then, I don’t want to waste my time to have ye get tossed.”

“But I can’t start working with you guys until I learn how to do the job. If you don’t show me, then I don’t work,” I said, my tone getting terse. Panic nibbled at me, taking bigger and bigger bites when Clover brushed me off.

“Like I said, ye look like a nice lass and would do better with a nice man in a house in the countryside. But this isn’t a job ye just train for and then ye start it. If Bain says ‘No’ then it’s ‘No.’ I don’t want to waste my time when I could be relaxin’ and enjoyin’ some downtime I’ve really been lookin’ forward to,” she said with a look that put me back into that ‘petulant child’ headspace. Was it pity or annoyance or something else? “Take ‘er easy and maybe figure out what to do with yer life. Ye clearly don’t know what yer gettin’ into if ye weren’t told about Bain from the very beginning.”

She leaned down to grab her bag before walking off, leaving me feeling completely demoralized and my appetite gone. Fuck, I thought I was past the worst of the existential crisis that almost ended with me splattered across the pavement. Why couldn’t I catch a fuckin’ break?

Tossing the food I had made, unable to find the desire to even look at it anymore, I washed up the dishes I’d used. When would I get to feel good about myself for more than a day? It felt like I wasn’t allowed to be even remotely happy without being backhanded with reminders that I was less than. The heavy emotions and thoughts clung to me, dragging me down into a mud pit that I had no way of escaping on my own. Even with the small life lines that Houston and Hoxton had thrown, they fell short.

While my body wanted to immediately curl up into a ball in bed and let myself sink to the bottom of the doom and gloom, I instead went back to the gym. Not stopping to properly wrap my hands to protect them, I started to lay into the punching bag. It was stupid, but I needed to feel like I was doing damage to something, even if it was myself. The bite of the tarp-ish material as I swung as hard as I could scratched the itch, but only so much. My knuckles would bruise and my fingers swell, but the harder I hit the more I felt some satisfaction.

By nature I didn’t overthink often. I was usually focused on the ‘here’ and ‘now’, but since coming to the safehouse I had had too many thoughts. I was around more people from different places, but they were all so similar. They all had things in common, lived experiences. I didn’t. Memories of the first dinner at the safehouse came to mind, making my stomach turn and my eyes burn. The way the others looked at me when I kept coming up empty handed with experiences or likes, it was like a hand wrapping itself with my insides and yanking. I was sure they pitied me rather than seeing me as someone who could be an asset. Some poor creature that doesn’t know a damn thing outside her small, insignificant bubble.

I wish Hoxton hadn’t saved me. It had been a fool’s errand, just prolonging the inevitable. This useless and unwanted burden that would be more trouble than what it was worth. Dad had been right all along. The only thing I was good for was a paycheck and even that was stretching it.

Tears hindered my vision as I kept beating on the sandbag, my knuckles screaming in agony. Stuck in my head, I couldn’t pull myself up for a true breath. Instead, ugly sobs wretched from my throat as I missed the bag, going to the ground. Not that it stopped me. Instead of the punching bag, I started to hit the padded floor, which was far less forgiving on my already wounded hands. Sand would eventually give, but the concrete would take what I gave it and then some.

I stopped my assault on the floor only when I had no more strength to swing. Unable to keep going either from pain or exhaustion, I wrapped my arms around my middle instead, rocking myself forwards and back. Hit with waves of nausea from stress but also how hard I was crying threatened to make things worse, but there was no way to stop. Meltdowns were not common with me, but had happened before. The problem was that before I was able to handle myself and calm down relatively easily. This was almost past a meltdown and into a breakdown of my mind. My brain felt like it was being held under boiling water and everything felt too much. Too bright, too loud, too soft, too strong, everything was too much. Thoughts were incoherent noises, words were long gone, leaving me at the mercy of this hindbrain, instinct only version of myself.

What pulled me out enough was Wolf appearing in front of me. His face pinched with wide, gray eyes that were filled with fear as he knelt down. His voice was garbled at first, but his soft words slowly came through the haze as I recognized him as being there.

“Easy, easy, Liten Ett,” he murmured, holding up a bloodied hand to keep me from popping him in the face when he first appeared, startling me. “Sshhh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Staring at him with distrusting, bloodshot eyes, I started to shake as I became more aware of everything around me. The high pitched ringing in my ears began to fade (though I was unsure when it had started), letting me hear the large industrial fan spinning in a lazy circle and Wolf’s small movements. “You’re safe,” he said softly as he stayed next to me, carefully reaching out to grasp my shoulder. The weight of his large hand kept me grounded, slowly pulling me up for air from the boiling water.

“Wolf?” I croaked after a few moments, looking around.

“I’m right here, Liten Ett,” he hummed, giving my shoulder a squeeze. Reaching up, I covered his hand with mine, further anchoring me to the precious ‘here’ and ‘now’. Staying like that, knelt down together, it took some time for me to calm down enough to understand what was happening and take stock of what I was feeling physically as well as mentally. “Are you back?” Wolf asked. I turned to gaze at him, finding his eyes searching mine.

“Yeah, mostly,” I rasped. Sniffling, I looked back to the ground before letting go of him to push myself to stand. He stopped me before I tried to, gingerly keeping his hand on my shoulder a moment longer.

“Let me help you,” he said, holding me by my elbow before wrapping an arm around my waist. I didn’t argue, in fact, was glad for the help as I was unsteady after the emotional and physical meltdown I had just had. Hot pain radiated up my arms from my hands and knuckles while my head was pounding so hard I almost wanted to vomit. “Let’s get you to your room and clean you up.” I could only nod as he moved my arm to wrap around his shoulders as we slowly walked out of the gym. Guilt pulled at me for making him take care of me. I was a fuckin’ adult. Other adults shouldn’t be taking care of me like this. It was my own damn fault that I did what I did and Wolf shouldn’t be wasting time-

“Hey, stay with me,” Wolf said, his voice low and rumbly. I looked up to find we were in my bathroom and I was on the toilet. When did we get here? He was knelt in front of me, taking great care to clean my battered and bloodied hands. “Did you take anything?” He asked, glancing up at me for a moment.

“What?” I asked. Words still weren’t making complete sense to me and all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole to sleep forever.

“Did you take any medication or drugs or something else?” He asked, pausing to catch my gaze.

“N-No, I didn’t,” I said slowly, processing what he was asking. “Why?”

Wolf was quiet with a soft sigh, going back to his work. I didn’t push, letting him patch me up in silence. It wasn’t pretty, but neither were my hands. The pain was now a dull ache after he was finished. Wiggling my fingers just slightly was enough to show they weren’t broken at least. Fuck, I was damn lucky. He stood up to put things away before turning back with a cool, wet wash cloth in hand. Kneeling back down, he reached up to clean my face. The coolness of the water helped ease the throbbing and heat in my face and head, coaxing a soft hum from me as I closed my eyes.

“Does this happen a lot? The, uh, the. . .” Wolf huffed softly, muttering in Swedish as he searched for the right words.

“Meltdowns,” I offered, cracking open my eyes.

“Yes, that,” he said with a nod.

“Not very. Until recently,” I said as he kept wiping my face carefully till the cloth was warm. “They only happen when I’m overwhelmed and there’s no real way to decompress or anyone to pull me out of the spiral.”

“Ah,” he nodded.

“Most of the time I end up hurting myself, but I’ll go after someone if it’s a person that started that train of thought.” Swallowing hard, my throat caught on itself. When did it dry up? It had to be from the probable hours of sobbing, but I hadn’t noticed till that moment. Only when Wolf had me talking and getting me to focus more did I become more aware of my body’s aches and needs. But I also became more aware of feelings settling into my gut. The ones that urged me to go back to the roof. “I should have taken that ticket from Dallas,” I mumbled, defeat flooding me.

“Ticket for what?” Wolf asked, standing to wet the cloth again. This time, he folded it to wrap around the back of my neck before filling a glass with water from the sink. Handing it to me, he waited patiently for me to respond as I sipped the water to ease the catch in my voice.

“Chicago. He offered me a bus ticket back there to start over, but I didn’t want to leave Houston.” Wolf stayed quiet, letting me process in a much more peaceful way. “I don’t belong here. I’m not one of you guys. I don’t know the first thing about doing what you do. I’ve never broken the law before I got here.”

“I thought you and Chains were working together to get you all tough and buff for heisting?” Wolf asked, moving to sit on the edge of the tub next to the toilet.

“We are but I don’t think it will work. Not because I think I’m progressing too slow. I just don’t know shit. Yeah, I know what kind of shit the cops have, but Clover had to be the one to tell me who Bain was. If he’s the guy in charge and I didn’t know that, what else don’t I know?” Too much. “I’d be a liability more than an asset to the gang. Clover pointed it out earlier too. I haven’t done anything close to breaking the law before now. So, why should I start?” The both of us were quiet for a bit and I was sure I had overshared. Wolf probably thought I was some nutcase that didn’t know how to handle themself or that I was too unstable to even be worth investing time and energy into.

“I didn’t start this life till I was 30,” Wolf said, breaking me from another spiral. Looking up from the spot on the floor I had been boring into with my eyes, I saw the sudden years of wear and tear on him. The once hidden wrinkles around his eyes and mouth were suddenly more pronounced, but so was this light in his eyes. “I used to have a normal job and family back in Sweden. But things change. Jobs are taken, family leaves, and you have to choose another life. It may not be something you know, but it’s yours to choose.” Wolf wasn’t a man that was run down by this choice he’d made. This wasn’t someone who had nowhere else to turn to and was forced into it begrudgingly. No, he wanted this life and he took it without asking for permission. “Everyone starts somewhere. This is just your beginning, Liten Ett.”

“How is it that when I feel like I’m ready to give up, one of you guys finds the right words to make me understand things better?” I asked, able to give a smile of sorts.

“I guess this isn’t your first, uh, pep talk then,” he said with a chuckle.

“No, it’s not. Surprisingly, it was Hoxton who talked me into joining you guys,” I said, earning a quizzical look. “Yeah, he, uh, he helped me through a meltdown as well. He’s not as terrible as he acts the majority of the time.”

“Yes,” Wolf said with a laugh. “Hoxton is an interesting man.”

“He just hides it really well.” Sniffling, I could feel the swollen sinuses throbbing in my cheeks and around my eyes. The headache that was forming was going to be a big one and I was sure it would knock me out for the rest of the day.

“Most of us do,” he said, reaching over to give my closest forearm a small, quick squeeze before letting go.

“Not you, though,” I said, looking up at him. He looked like a deer caught in headlights as heat blushed his cheeks. “You’ve probably been the nicest person I’ve met in a really long time.” Wolf made a small ‘ah’ noise as he nodded, looking to his hands as he picked at an invisible hang nail.

“You, uh, you make me think of him a bit,” he said softly, keeping his eyes on his fingers. “Hoxton. We lost him for a few years. There was a shit job, someone ratted us out, and we had to leave him behind. When we got him back, he was a lot like you. Would disappear into his own head and not realize it. Forgot how to do some things, quick to anger. He wasn’t the same Hoxton I knew from before.”

Oh.

“He got better, with time and patience, but he wouldn’t ever be the same again,” Wolf said. “It’s okay that you are having a hard time and are different now. Um, not that it’s happening, but that, uh. . .” He trailed off, muttering in Swedish with a frown.

“I get it,” I said, helping him out. “It’s okay that I’m not okay.”

“Yes, that,” he said with a nod. Letting out a sigh, I reached up to massage my cheeks and forehead, exhausted to the bone. Fuck, I needed to stop doing this to myself. “Do you want some cold packs? I can go get you some if you’d like.”

“Yeah, that would be great actually,” I said. “I’ll grab some ibuprofen or something and lay down. I think I’m done for the day.”

“I’ll be right back then,” Wolf said, smiling softly as he gently tapped my arm before standing to leave. Once he was gone, I changed into my sleep clothes then swallowed a couple of ibuprofen with a full glass of water. Turning the lights off and my dim night light on, I crawled into bed while waiting on Wolf. The man came back in just a few minutes bearing the ice packs. “Here you go, Liten Ett,” he said, climbing onto the bed a bit to help place the ice packs around my head and hands. “I’m two doors down if you need me.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. His warm hand gave my shoulder a squeeze as he quietly excused himself to let me rest, leaving me more to think about that I had before.

Translations:

Var försiktig, snälla. – Be careful, please.

Liten Ett – The Small/Small One

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