ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪs ᴅᴏɢ.

THE SANTOROS LEFT PLENTY TO BE SCARED OF. he knew this from reviewing the handiwork, from experiencing some of it first hand. then again, he was also privy to a side that said they weren’t all quite as dangerous as some liked to think. perhaps that was his bias, but that was kept quiet, and instead he chuckled along with Tommy’s nervousness. the joint was taken, an expert really, as it was carefully held between two fingers. inhale, hold, exhale, before nodding. “on your way out, someone had the great idea for girl scout cookies in the second to last tent and i couldn’t be more thankful. a real christmas fucking miracle.”

TOMMY LEANED DOWN SLIGHTLY TO PET BILLY’S EARS, settling the dog down as he seemed a little restless. His interest was piqued again by the mention of the cookies, and he straightened up again, letting out another chuckle at the reference to said cookies being a miracle. Miracles weren’t something that happened every day on the cursed island they lived on, so small victories had to count, otherwise people wouldn’t ever make it from one day to the next. “There’d better be some left by the time I find my way there.” 

Billy decided to sniff around this unfamiliar man conversing with Tommy, then, deciding that maybe he wasn’t a threat, and he sat beside him, looking up at him and silently asking for attention. “Doubt it’s every day you share a joint with, uh... someone like me.” He glanced down at the crosses on his hand, feeling something twist in his gut at the mere sight of them

TOMMY WAS PROBABLY THREATENING IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS. this was not one of them, and he was clearly amused by the way the man seemed to sort of fumble over himself. “if i have learned anything, usually when people say they are not being sus, they are, in fact, sus.”  he reminds him, a tone that is not at all threatening. a simple observation, really. thankfully, undercover work provided him with an authorization most did not have, one that allowed him to break the rules that most would have seen as sacred. this explained why he was stepping forward, amusement still heavy on features, before hand held out. “pass it, and all is forgiven, as long as you stop looking at me like i caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.” 

“THAT’S... YEAH, THAT’S PROBABLY A FAIR POINT.” A soft, almost nervous huff of laughter escaped Tommy’s lips, and it frustrated him, how he seemed to be so fucking nervous - what the hell was wrong with him? He was scared of the Santoro gang, not the cops. Bringing his hand back out from behind his back, he took another drag on the joint before tilting his head slightly as Abel requested that he pass it to him. “Really? Alright. Fuck, man, speaking of cookies... you know a tent where I can find some when the munchies hit later on?”

“You ran away from- I…” Jack sighed and shook his head- he shouldn’t have been surprised. He watched Tommy make his way through the kitchen, moving to sink into one of the chairs there. His brow furrowed as Tommy started to talk about his family- he knew Tommy didn’t really know his family at all, had been through the system- had been practically adopted by Jack’s mother, in adulthood, just like any other person Jack brought through her door over the years. 

His eyebrows shot toward his hairline as the other man started to pull out a picture, sliding it closer on the table with a fingertip and examining it closely- like he might be able to recognize a lie in it- but he’d never seen any photos of Tommy from his childhood. “You… you have an uncle.” He said slowly, “A Scottish man showed up in Wickway and claims to be your uncle.” He looked from the photo to Tommy, eyes searching his features, “And you’re sure he’s the real deal, that’s actually you and your maman, not some random kid?” 

He looked back to the photo, “Seems hard to believe.” He didn’t want Tommy to break his own heart, “I mean, I’m happy for you, if it’s real. Just… don’t want you to get hurt, big guy.” The romance thing, whether it went good or bad, he knew Tommy could handle- but his family had never been a topic the other had seemed comfortable around and Jack figured there was a reason behind that.

-

“YEAH, YEAH. NOT MY PROUDEST MOMENT.” Tommy watched Jack study the photo before grabbing a few slices of bread and throwing them into the toaster. “You see those scars on his face? Guy that stopped by the auto shop looking for me had ‘em too. Exactly the same. Just... you know. He’s three decades older now.”

He folded his arms again and leant against the counter so he could face Jack again, as he waited on his toast. “I know, I know, man. I appreciate your concern - but that guy, he... he knew what state the photo was taken in, and I don’t often go talking about where I’m originally from. He knew where that was, he knew my childhood nickname ‘cause he was the fucker that came up with it, and get this - his surname is my middle name. Finley. It all adds up, J.”

Jack bit his lip hard, trying his best to kill his grin. It’d been a long time since he’d seen Tommy in this state- blushing. He was happy for his friend- though the chances of him saying that out loud were low. 

“Right- he’s not a funeral twink, and he is a dad, but you’re not gonna end up a stepdad.” He said slowly, trying not to start laughing again. “I… Tommy- you- you know what, fine, I won’t make fun of you for Funeral Twink, but I don’t wanna hear shit about TJ anymore.” He argued. 

He shifted, loosely gesturing toward the cabinet he kept the bread in- “Go on with your shit, then. Fuckin’ saleau. What else you got for me? I know you didn’t come in here sayin’ so much has happened just to tell me about a man.”

“FINE. DEAL. I’LL DROP THE LOVERBOY NICKNAMES for good if you don’t make Funeral Twink a thing.” Tommy gave in to Jack’s demands quickly, wanting the teasing to stop before he started blushing any more. “God forbid you say funeral twink in front of the poor man. I’m honestly surprised I haven’t scared him off yet myself. Bailed after our, uh, first night together, which was a dick move, but we - we worked it out.”

Now was the time to comfort eat some toast, as Jack motioned towards where Tommy already knew he’d find the bread. “Alright. I know I never talk much about my, uh - my real parents, but I guess I don’t remember, or even know much about em. Anyway, I, uh - I met my fucking uncle a couple days ago, J.” He got the bread out and paused for a moment, as if he was letting it sink in for him again. “I have a fucking Scottish uncle, who’s just shown up in town - look at this shit...” He reached into his pocket for his wallet, where the photo from Cyrus now resided, and he passed the photo to Jack.

Jack dropped his hip to the counter, wondering for a moment how long it would take Tommy to start rooting through his food, before he processed what Tommy had said. His jaw fell loose, for a moment, eyes flicking over Tommy’s features to try to figure out if he was lying or not. “You’re seeing someone…”

He shook his head, “No. No. What? Dit mon le verite!” He pulled his arms into himself, stopping himself from trying to reach out and shove at Tommy.  “Tommy. Tommy. Funeral twink? You’re fucking FUNERAL TWINK?” He laughed, then, a bright grin stretching across his features for a moment before he bit it back, “Isn’t he a dad? Oh my god, Tommy, are you gonna be a stepdad?” 

-

“PICK YOUR JAW UP, J, IT‘S SURELY NOT IMPOSSIBLE TO BELIEVE...” Tommy shook his head, a weak smile crossing over his face again as he realised Jack was definitely holding back laughter; whether it was happiness for him or genuine amusement, he didn’t really care. “Don’t you fuckin’ French at me... hey! He is not a funeral twink! You leave him alone.”

Holy shit. Was that a fucking blush Tommy felt creeping across his cheeks?

He started laughing again, shaking his head and quietening down as Jack spoke. “Yeah, he’s got a kid-” He shut right up then as Jack said stepdad, and his eyes widened for a moment as that crossed his mind properly for the first time.

The second Jack had opened the door, Billy was zooming past him to go find Cooper, and Tommy’s face just split into an exhausted smile. “Holy shit, do I have a lot of things to tell you.”

“He’s gonna end up ass over ears one of these days, throwing himself into the house like that.” Jack said as Billy nearly ran him down in his excitement to get to Cooper, stepping to the side just in time. He looked up toward Tommy and offered him a smile, nodding his head back toward the kitchen, “Come on, then, tell me what you’ve been up to.” 

Jack’s mood had gotten better as the mobility in his hands did- the ability to even get the door open on his own was an accomplishment at this point, but he’d take it. He know he still looked rough, but he felt better. He turned on his heel, knowing Tommy knew to lock the door behind him and comfortable with the man at his back, leading toward the kitchen. “You finally gonna tell me about who you bunked up with, or is there more?”

-

“YEAH, WOULDN’T BE AT ALL SURPRISED IF HE ROLLS down that hallway head first next time.” Tommy let out a soft huff of laughter and shook his head, stepping inside and instinctively locking the door up behind him. “Man, you won’t believe this shit. Thought this island couldn’t get any wilder. I was wrong, apparently.”

Walking through to the kitchen with Jack, he let slip another small burst of laughter at the way Billy was running circles around Cooper, though that died down as Jack immediately brought up who he’d been sneaking off to bunk up with. Well. He would’ve told him eventually, or Jack would’ve figured it out. “I, uh... I’ve been seeing someone. Yeah. Crazy, I know. Managed to not push this one away.. yet.” Tommy learned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms loosely. “It’s... Elias. Elias Kestrel. The, uh... the funeral guy.”

Cyrus watched Tommy’s features as he cycled through emotions, eyes catching the tremor in his hand as he lifted his own to shake it shortly. He couldn’t help himself, smiling as he recognized something of the kid he’d once known in Tommy.

“You’ve gotten big since I last saw you, honey badger.” He said- the pet name slipping out for the first time in thirty-something years. He dropped Tommy’s hand as it came out, smile dropping just a bit. “Sorry. Just… something about you is jus’ the same- and you look straight like yer da’… ‘cept the nose. You break that a few times?”

“YEAH, THIRTY-ODD YEARS DOES THAT TO A GUY LIKE ME...” Tommy trailed off at that nickname, pocketing his hands as his brow furrowed. “Honey badger. How’d you... was that you? I - I always figured it was someone from one of those homes came up with it, but you... it was you, huh.” Now that seemed to dredge up a memory or two that he didn’t know he had.

He let out a soft chuckle at the comment about his nose, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well, uh... couple years in a gang will do that to a man. Broke a lot more than just my nose.” Tommy lowered his voice as he mentioned the gang, just in time for the door to his office to come swinging open, Billy barreling inside - running a lap around the desk before eventually jumping up onto the couch and staring at Cyrus intently, though his tail still slowly wagged. “Don’t mind him. He’s just... energetic today.”

status: closed @trxshcns (Jack)

IT HAD BEEN A WHILE SINCE TOMMY HAD been able to raid Jack’s house for toast. He’d only really been there keeping the man company when TJ wasn’t around, but aforementioned detective was out and hard at work, so Tommy was finally able to go and have a conversation with Jack that wasn’t regarding that damn Halloween costume.

With Billy at his heel as usual, he headed up to Jack’s front door, knocking softly as his four legged companion sniffed at the door and silently willed for it to open so he could go inside and be warm and loved on again.

Cyrus raised an eyebrow, “Boy, I don’t know why it’d matter what city it was taken in- sure as hell aren’t a lot of folk walkin’ around the country lookin’ like this.” He gestured to  his own face, the scars that had never faded much. He stepped closer to the desk and slid the photo back toward Tommy, “But if ye must know, it was taken in a shitty motel in South Atlanta. We were living there at the time, the four of us packed into one room, because the landlord at our apartment kicked us out and we couldn’t find another place fast enough. Month later, we were able to scrounge up enough that we were in a two bedroom little house straight out of Caroline’s dreams.” His gaze had dropped to the photo as he was speaking, but snapped up to Tommy again, “You can have the picture if you’d like. I’ve got plenty of them.” He said, voice dropping to something a little soft, “I know I don’t have any right to know you- and I don’t know what your life was after us-” though, judging on his hands, it hadn’t been easy, “But I thought you should know that I exist, and that I’m here, and that you can know me, if you want to.”

-

“GUESS NOT.” TOMMY SHRUGGED, GLANCING UP AT CYRUS’ FACE before softly exhaling as the man brought up Atlanta. Yeah. That was precisely fucking it. The guy was the real deal, and it hadn’t hit Tommy yet that he was standing a foot away from an uncle he never really knew he’d had. An uncle who, nearly four decades ago, supposedly had been changing his fuckin’ diapers. All that was between them now was a desk.

Before he could even try and get his thoughts out, Cyrus had offered him the photo. “Yeah - alright. I’ll hang onto it.” Tommy’s own voice was softer now, too, his brain working at high speeds but his mouth just not being able to string together a whole sentence. He took a long moment to come to some kind of a decision, staring at the photo again before folding it, pocketing it and eventually meeting Cyrus’ gaze.

“He was five, the last time I saw ‘im.” Cyrus said with a small nod, taking back the photo and carefully folding it again before tucking it back into his wallet. He slipped his wallet back where it belonged and looked up toward Tommy- another small nod. “Aye- Cyrus Finley.” He let out, eyes still tracking- taking in as many details about the boy as he could. He caught the Santoro crosses on the backs of his hands- the way his nose curved, twisted in a way that wasn’t provided by genetics but by multiple breaks. “Mrs. Eubanks was a Finley first.” He said simply, shifting to tuck his hands into his pockets, “She was my older sister.”

-

TOMMY KNEW HE HAD BEEN FIVE WHEN HE’D LOST his parents; even if he didn’t have any photos himself from the first half decade of his life. He didn’t know his mother’s maiden name had been Finley and he certainly didn’t know he had an uncle, even if the man had photo evidence of them having spent time together. The first few years of Tommy’s life were a blur.

“She was your sister. So you’d be Thomas’ uncle.” Tommy let out a faint huff of laughter, sinking down into the seat on his side of the desk and picking up the photo again. He could sense Cyrus’ eyes scanning over him again as he inspected the picture. “Alright. Okay, Cyrus, if you can tell me what city this photo was taken in, I’ll tell Thomas you’re looking for him.”

Cyrus dropped his hand to his side, eyes flicking over the man in front of him. “Righ’. Appreciate it- it dinnae need any help right about now, but it’s always good to know where I can get help if it’s needed.” He offered, shrugging before crossing his arms across his chest. He cocked an eyebrow in return, though the edge of his mouth turned up as well- he knew pretty well when someone was putting him on, and the brick wall of a man in front of him had the same square jaw his father carried, the same eyes Cyrus’ sister had.

“Someone who ain’t seen him since he was a wee thing- doubt he remembers me.” Cyrus said, shifting on his feet, looking up toward the other person in the room and offering them a smile when they made their way out. He pulled his wallet out, careful as he pulled a photo out and unfolded it, setting it on the desk between them. It was of Cyrus, thirty-five years younger and laughing, with a barely two-year-old Tommy on his shoulders- his sister by his side, her brows drawn together in worry. It was taken on a good day, and Cyrus had carried it for a long time. “My name is Cyrus Finley.” He said, keeping on like he didn’t know Thomas was right in front of him, “I knew his mother.”

THE MAN’S EYES SCANNING OVER HIS FACE followed by the barest hint of a smile didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy. “Mhmm. You can trust the guys here with anything. I know I do.” He nodded, unfolding his arms in favor of placing his hands at the edge of his desk and leaning forward slightly as the other man began to elaborate on why he was searching for Thomas.

Tommy’s face stayed deadpan, until that photo was presented to him, and his interest was piqued. “You don’t think he’ll remember you, huh?” He sure didn’t so far. Tommy cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head downward to look at the crumpled picture now sat on his desk. Nothing about it seemed familiar until he took a closer look, picking up the photograph and squinting as he focused on the details. The man in the photos had the same distinctive scars as the man in front of him, so that only led Tommy to assume that that woman was his mother, and that kid was... well, it was him.

“Finley?” Tommy’s very own middle name. He put the photo back down, head snapping back up so he could look at this Cyrus guy once more, finger pointing to the woman in the photo. “How’d you know her?”

He nodded at that. Even if time was of the essence and dangerously scarce. Yet he knew that it wouldn’t do anyone any good if tempers were lost so soon – before everyone went up at arms for the grand finale. 

“Alright, okay. We’ll be waiting, Tommy. And if you need anything from us, you let us know.”

“YEAH. I’LL, UH - BE IN TOUCH. I should probably go, I... told Jack I’d check up on him. Maybe see what he thinks about this whole thing.” He already knew the answer to that; Jack would discourage him from getting involved as best he could. “On second thoughts, maybe not.”

The louder Tommy grew, the quieter he became. So much so that Markus hardly breathed; lest he dared to disturb the other’s outburst. The silence continued even after the chair was occupied once more. He simply sat there grim-faced and stiff until the air cleared. 

“We can always use more eyes and ears, but think on it.” Quiet yet firm, Markus maintained his composure. “Really think on it.”

TOMMY ONLY NOTICED MARKUS’ SILENCE when he sat back down, taking a moment to just breathe after his outburst. It had got him thinking again, about how fucking unfair life on this island was for so many of its inhabitants.

Not that Tommy wanted pity, he just wanted things to change.

“You can bring Billy with you.” Elias said, tucking his own hands into his pockets and scrunching his nose, “He’s welcome in my house. Just- not the basement.” That door was closed most of the time anyway. “I’ll cook. You come, and eat, and… yeah.” He bit back a smile, thinking about it for a moment before stepping into Tommy’s space again and pressing another quick kiss against his lips- stepping away just as quickly as he moved in and moving down the steps. “I’ll be there, whenever. I mean, I work from home so… yeah. See you.”

“ALRIGHT. I’M SURE BILLY WILL BE PLEASED TO HEAR THAT.” Tommy nodded a little, hardly having time to move his hands again and reach for Elias as the man moved closer, but stepped back again as quickly as he’d come forward. That was a pleasant feeling. The feeling of wanting more from Elias. Not wanting to curl up and hide, like how he felt last night. No, right now, he was looking forward to more. “I’ll... drop you a text when I’m done at work. I’ll have to come home and shower first, but I - I’ll do that, grab some beer or something, and... head on over.” He nodded again, his brain only just processing something that Elias had slipped into a sentence earlier.