Meeting the first (Flynn, Frankie)
Nov. 24th, 2008 08:26 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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darker_londonThe day had seemed like any other day when Flynn had left the house in the morning. It was Monday and though the night had seemed anything but normal, considering what had happend with Tristan, once the rest of his housemates were up and it was well and truly light outside, the dangers of the night seemed to drain away.
It was merely a superficial kind of safety. There were things that dwelled outside in the light that were just as dangerous as any night creature.
Flynn had walked Quinn to the University campus, and made sure that Quinn had a hearty breakfast while there too. And then, because his classes didn't run on Monday, he decided to go check on Deirdre. Her tour would be over now, and he wanted to make sure that she really was okay, despite the fact that she had reassured him several times on the phone and on the internet. He needed to see her in person to be sure.
Frankie, however, had other ideas. And as Flynn made his way across the park, Flynn's arm was grabbed by his older brother and he was dragged behind a big tree, which really only blocked him from the view of people on the other side of it. "Ow! Frankie!"
Francis O'Reilly gave his little brother a harsh look. "Knew you couldn't avoid me forever, you dozy cunt."
"Charming." Flynn tried to pull away, but Frankie, who was larger than Flynn was, held him firmly. "Frankie, let go of my arm!"
"Not until we talk, Little Brother."
"I don't want to talk to you!" Flynn wasn't panicked. He wasn't really afraid, though he had thought he would be. This was the first time he had seen his brother in years...since Frankie had tried to set him up to take a mighty fall at the hands of the PIRA. Frankie's plan had backfired and he'd been in prison and now he was here and he was angry. But so was Flynn. He was angry that his own brother had set him up in the first place. It was Frankie's fault that he had been kicked out of his home by his parents and forced to live a terrible existence for six years. Flynn didn't give in to the weakness of fear. Instead, he let himself feel the anger he always tried so hard to repress.
"And I don't give a fuckin' rat's arse what you want, Malachy." Frankie's grip on Flynn's arm tightened. "You're a wee snot-nosed brat to me. Come on. We aren't talkin' here in the middle of the fuckin' woods."
"It's a park." Flynn said, just to be difficult.
"I'll cut your fuckin' tongue out, you traitorous little shite." Frankie hissed and he dragged Flynn away from the park and towards an alleyway where they wouldn't be disturbed. Flynn tried his best not to let Frankie pull him, but there wasn't much he could do without drawing attention to himself and if he did that he was likely to get someone else hurt. He didn't trust Frankie not to drag innocent people into it. In Frankie's mind, there were no innocent Englishpeople and he wouldn't stop in his quest just because he had an audience.
They turned a corner and Frankie pushed Flynn up against the wall. "I could snap your rotten little neck right here." He growled.
Flynn coughed as Frankie's hand pressed against his windpipe. He kicked out with his foot, connecting with Frankie's shin. Frankie lost his grip and Flynn's hand immediately went to protect his sore throat. "Just get to the point." Flynn croaked.
Frankie hopped about and then he leaned against the opposite wall, his sore leg up in the air so he could hold it. "I've half a mind to forget what I was goin' to say and just put you down here and now."
"If you're gonna do it, then do it." Flynn said, taking his hand off his throat so he could hold them up in a surrender. "I'm not going to fight with you. In any sense of the phrase, Francis. I don't fight anymore. Not like that. You're goin' about things the wrong way." If Frankie wasn't such an arse, he could be so useful in the fight against the Templar. But he was too busy settling old grievances. He probably didn't remember what he was even fighting for. He was just fighting because it was all he knew. And once Flynn had been like that. But he wasn't any more. "I'm not going to join you and I'm not going to stop you."
"It's that piece os shite Ardal." Frankie hissed, actually showing that his feelings were hurt by the fact that his little brother would choose his boyfriend over his family. Frankie really did miss the camraderie he had once shared with Flynn. "Isn't it?"
"No." Flynn shook his head slowly and he lowered his arms a fraction. "It's me. I woke up. Realised what I was doin'. Frankie, Ireland got shite handed to them by the English, okay. I'm not denyin' that. But when you compare it to what other people have suffered...come on, Frankie, there's more important battles to fight now! That one's old. Let it die!"
"It's not old! It's not old until Ireland is free."
"For fuck's sake!" Flynn rolled his eyes and he took a step forward. "I haven't seen you in seven years and the first thing you do is grab me and threaten me. You scare the shite out of Ardal...er...Quinn, and you sleep with Rage. Which doesn't bother me, but isn't there someone else you could screw? Does it have to be my ex-girlfriend?! You're the one that tried to take me down, Frankie! You tried to ruin my life. It's not my fault your men rolled over on you and you got arrested. That was your fault for being so hellbent on revenge! I got thrown out of my home because of you. I should be the one wantin' to slam you up against walls, but I don't. I don't, okay? Just leave it." Flynn turned to walk away, but he was grabbed again from behind.
Frankie wasn't having it. He wasn't buying it in the least. When Flynn was younger, he would have sliced into a person for looking at him wrong. This wasn't the Malachy he knew. "Bullshit!" He said, giving his younger brother a rough shake. He could get Flynn angry enough. He knew he could. He could bring the fight out of his little brother. He would see his Malachy again, dammit. "I know what you're capable of! I've seen you! The things you did! I know you, Malachy!"
"Not anymore!" Flynn hissed, and he was rewarded with a punch to the face. Flynn groaned and he covered his bruised cheek. Frankie readied another punch, but that time Flynn was quicker and he ducked by falling to his knees, causing Frankie to punch the brick wall behind him, hard and fast. His knuckles split and he let out a horrible yell. He turned as Flynn scrambled away from him, and he grabbed the back of Flynn's shirt.
"Don't think you've changed, Mal." Frankie said, turning his brother around. His hand bled all over Flynn's shirt, but he hardly noticed. "I'll see you strike out in anger. I'll see you have your revenge."
Frankie hit him again, and Flynn didn't resist. Frankie's words reached him in quite the opposite way that Frankie intended. Flynn knew what he was capable of. What he could do to Frankie if he wanted to. That he could get out of this and cause quite a lot of pain of his own. He knew Frankie was trying to bring it out of him. Trying to turn him into Malachy O'Reilly again because if he gave in, he was no better than the thug he used to be and he might as well go back to seeing violence as the answer to every question, whether it had been asked or not. Flynn would not be that man. So he took Frankie's beating. He let his brother take his revenge out on his body because it was better than losing his soul.
When Frankie finally left him, after spitting on his face and promising he would see him again, Flynn let his body rest there in the alley for quite a while. He knew, however, that if he didn't move soon, then his muscles would tense up and swell in response to the pain and he wouldn't be able to move at all. He stood with difficulty, and he staggered to the closest place he knew. It happened to be Victoria Lane, where he had been headed in the first place. With ragged breath, Flynn leaned against the doorbell, willing his swimming head not to lose consciousness. Not until he was inside. Not until he was safe in the hands of the people he trusted. The people he had suffered pain for because he refused to betray their trust.
It was merely a superficial kind of safety. There were things that dwelled outside in the light that were just as dangerous as any night creature.
Flynn had walked Quinn to the University campus, and made sure that Quinn had a hearty breakfast while there too. And then, because his classes didn't run on Monday, he decided to go check on Deirdre. Her tour would be over now, and he wanted to make sure that she really was okay, despite the fact that she had reassured him several times on the phone and on the internet. He needed to see her in person to be sure.
Frankie, however, had other ideas. And as Flynn made his way across the park, Flynn's arm was grabbed by his older brother and he was dragged behind a big tree, which really only blocked him from the view of people on the other side of it. "Ow! Frankie!"
Francis O'Reilly gave his little brother a harsh look. "Knew you couldn't avoid me forever, you dozy cunt."
"Charming." Flynn tried to pull away, but Frankie, who was larger than Flynn was, held him firmly. "Frankie, let go of my arm!"
"Not until we talk, Little Brother."
"I don't want to talk to you!" Flynn wasn't panicked. He wasn't really afraid, though he had thought he would be. This was the first time he had seen his brother in years...since Frankie had tried to set him up to take a mighty fall at the hands of the PIRA. Frankie's plan had backfired and he'd been in prison and now he was here and he was angry. But so was Flynn. He was angry that his own brother had set him up in the first place. It was Frankie's fault that he had been kicked out of his home by his parents and forced to live a terrible existence for six years. Flynn didn't give in to the weakness of fear. Instead, he let himself feel the anger he always tried so hard to repress.
"And I don't give a fuckin' rat's arse what you want, Malachy." Frankie's grip on Flynn's arm tightened. "You're a wee snot-nosed brat to me. Come on. We aren't talkin' here in the middle of the fuckin' woods."
"It's a park." Flynn said, just to be difficult.
"I'll cut your fuckin' tongue out, you traitorous little shite." Frankie hissed and he dragged Flynn away from the park and towards an alleyway where they wouldn't be disturbed. Flynn tried his best not to let Frankie pull him, but there wasn't much he could do without drawing attention to himself and if he did that he was likely to get someone else hurt. He didn't trust Frankie not to drag innocent people into it. In Frankie's mind, there were no innocent Englishpeople and he wouldn't stop in his quest just because he had an audience.
They turned a corner and Frankie pushed Flynn up against the wall. "I could snap your rotten little neck right here." He growled.
Flynn coughed as Frankie's hand pressed against his windpipe. He kicked out with his foot, connecting with Frankie's shin. Frankie lost his grip and Flynn's hand immediately went to protect his sore throat. "Just get to the point." Flynn croaked.
Frankie hopped about and then he leaned against the opposite wall, his sore leg up in the air so he could hold it. "I've half a mind to forget what I was goin' to say and just put you down here and now."
"If you're gonna do it, then do it." Flynn said, taking his hand off his throat so he could hold them up in a surrender. "I'm not going to fight with you. In any sense of the phrase, Francis. I don't fight anymore. Not like that. You're goin' about things the wrong way." If Frankie wasn't such an arse, he could be so useful in the fight against the Templar. But he was too busy settling old grievances. He probably didn't remember what he was even fighting for. He was just fighting because it was all he knew. And once Flynn had been like that. But he wasn't any more. "I'm not going to join you and I'm not going to stop you."
"It's that piece os shite Ardal." Frankie hissed, actually showing that his feelings were hurt by the fact that his little brother would choose his boyfriend over his family. Frankie really did miss the camraderie he had once shared with Flynn. "Isn't it?"
"No." Flynn shook his head slowly and he lowered his arms a fraction. "It's me. I woke up. Realised what I was doin'. Frankie, Ireland got shite handed to them by the English, okay. I'm not denyin' that. But when you compare it to what other people have suffered...come on, Frankie, there's more important battles to fight now! That one's old. Let it die!"
"It's not old! It's not old until Ireland is free."
"For fuck's sake!" Flynn rolled his eyes and he took a step forward. "I haven't seen you in seven years and the first thing you do is grab me and threaten me. You scare the shite out of Ardal...er...Quinn, and you sleep with Rage. Which doesn't bother me, but isn't there someone else you could screw? Does it have to be my ex-girlfriend?! You're the one that tried to take me down, Frankie! You tried to ruin my life. It's not my fault your men rolled over on you and you got arrested. That was your fault for being so hellbent on revenge! I got thrown out of my home because of you. I should be the one wantin' to slam you up against walls, but I don't. I don't, okay? Just leave it." Flynn turned to walk away, but he was grabbed again from behind.
Frankie wasn't having it. He wasn't buying it in the least. When Flynn was younger, he would have sliced into a person for looking at him wrong. This wasn't the Malachy he knew. "Bullshit!" He said, giving his younger brother a rough shake. He could get Flynn angry enough. He knew he could. He could bring the fight out of his little brother. He would see his Malachy again, dammit. "I know what you're capable of! I've seen you! The things you did! I know you, Malachy!"
"Not anymore!" Flynn hissed, and he was rewarded with a punch to the face. Flynn groaned and he covered his bruised cheek. Frankie readied another punch, but that time Flynn was quicker and he ducked by falling to his knees, causing Frankie to punch the brick wall behind him, hard and fast. His knuckles split and he let out a horrible yell. He turned as Flynn scrambled away from him, and he grabbed the back of Flynn's shirt.
"Don't think you've changed, Mal." Frankie said, turning his brother around. His hand bled all over Flynn's shirt, but he hardly noticed. "I'll see you strike out in anger. I'll see you have your revenge."
Frankie hit him again, and Flynn didn't resist. Frankie's words reached him in quite the opposite way that Frankie intended. Flynn knew what he was capable of. What he could do to Frankie if he wanted to. That he could get out of this and cause quite a lot of pain of his own. He knew Frankie was trying to bring it out of him. Trying to turn him into Malachy O'Reilly again because if he gave in, he was no better than the thug he used to be and he might as well go back to seeing violence as the answer to every question, whether it had been asked or not. Flynn would not be that man. So he took Frankie's beating. He let his brother take his revenge out on his body because it was better than losing his soul.
When Frankie finally left him, after spitting on his face and promising he would see him again, Flynn let his body rest there in the alley for quite a while. He knew, however, that if he didn't move soon, then his muscles would tense up and swell in response to the pain and he wouldn't be able to move at all. He stood with difficulty, and he staggered to the closest place he knew. It happened to be Victoria Lane, where he had been headed in the first place. With ragged breath, Flynn leaned against the doorbell, willing his swimming head not to lose consciousness. Not until he was inside. Not until he was safe in the hands of the people he trusted. The people he had suffered pain for because he refused to betray their trust.
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Date: 2008-11-25 02:52 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 02:54 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 02:56 am (UTC)From:"My ribs aren't broken." Flynn told her, so she wouldn't worry about puncturing a lung.
"How you can know that for sure, I don't think I want to know." Deirdre breathed as she helped Flynn into the house and towards the sofa.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 03:11 am (UTC)From:"I'll get you some water, alright. Long as you're not going into shock..."
"No shock." Flynn soothed her. "I'm already a little better." He reached out to grab her hand and he held it there as tightly as he could. "Thank you."
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Date: 2008-11-25 03:18 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 03:20 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 03:29 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 03:31 am (UTC)From: