Chapter Text
Ezekiel Reyes stood in front of the dirty bar, staring down at the white piece of paper that shook in his hands.
"EZ? Have you seen your brother?"
His shaking hand clenched the white paper, crumbling it into a ball in his palm. His mind was racing, but somewhere between his racing thoughts he could hear Bishop talking to him.
"Hey, I'm talking to you kid. You seen your brother?"
He took a slow breath and closed his eyes, calming his nerves. His hand slid into his pocket, depositing the crumpled paper safely. "No." He cleared his throat to cover up how his voice shook. He opened his eyes and turned around, facing his once upon a time sponsor. "I haven't seen him since this morning." He nodded, solidifying his response in his own mind.
The older man standing before him eyed him closely. "You alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. No. I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night."
As if understanding what EZ wasn't actually saying, Bishop nodded. "You know we're gonna figure this shit out, right? With SAMCRO?"
EZ sighed, grateful that Bishop wasn't looking into his mood too much. "Yeah, I know Prez. We always figure it out." He nodded, again. They had a momentary stand off, just eyeing each other, before Bishop clapped EZ's shoulder. "I'm gonna go find Angel."
"Good idea. Tell him to get here by 5. We need to figure some shit out." And with that, Bishop walked off. EZ, glad to be free, practically ran out the door. His heart was racing in his chest as he rushed to his bike, grabbing the helmet right away, and sitting on it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. Clicking to recent calls, he hit Angel's name.
No answer.
He tried again.
No answer.
He tried his father, grateful when he heard the familiar, comforting voice. He felt like a child again. "Hey, Pops. Have you seen Angel?"
"Not since this morning. Is everything alright?"
EZ's eyes closed for a moment and he took a breath before opening them again. "Everything's alright. The club is looking for him. That's all."
There was a pause on the other side. "You sure about that, son?"
"Positive. I'll talk to you later Pops." He hung up before his father could question him more. As his adrenaline spiked, his hands started to shake again. "Where the fuck are you Angel?" he slid his phone back into his pocket before fishing out the crumpled paper in his other pocket. He straightened it out. Bold, black letters stood out across the white paper.
YOU MURDERED MY MOTHER. YOUR BROTHER WILL PAY.
"Where the fuck are you man?" He said, desperately, to no one. He swallowed and slid the note back in his pocket. He started his bike and took off, heading towards Angel's house. Maybe his brother would be there. Maybe he went there to think about Adelita and his kid and grieve in privacy. Maybe? Hopefully. Maybe he decided to day drink. Maybe he fell and broke a leg or who fucking cares as long as he's not with Miguel Galindo.
EZ left the club behind him, speeding to his brother's house, unaware of Coco's eyes watching him the whole time. "Hey Chucky?" Coco called out to his friend who was walking up the steps towards him, carrying a box of beer. "Any idea what's up with him?"
"Hm. Not sure. One of Mr. Galindo's friends dropped off a note for him. He didn't seem happy about it."
"Any idea what the note said?"
"No, sorry."
"Thanks Chucky." Coco said, sliding his cigarette between his lips as Chucky happily bounced into the building. He pulled his phone out and found Angel's number. His finger hovered over his name as he thought about what the fuck he was doing. Is he out of his mind? The whole situation had seemed weird to him. EZ looked like he just found out his dog died. The whole convo between Bishop and EZ had been weird as fuck. That note. EZ flying away like he had a fucking fire to put out or some shit. It didn't sit right with him. And the way shit has been going for the club lately, he had every fucking right to feel paranoid. So his thumb pressed down on his phone and he watched as it connected to Angel's and began to ring. He put the phone to his ear and waited. This is fucking stupid. He's being a complete fucking idiot. It's none of his business.
"Pick up, man."
His voicemail came on. Coco quickly ended the call, as if he would be caught doing something he shouldn't be. This is stupid. He should stay out of it. He has no idea what's going on. It was probably some fucking family drama shit. He knows all about that. Everything's fine. Calm the fuck down.
He called again.
-----
When EZ pulled up to Angel's place and saw his bike parked out front, he'd felt so much hope that it almost brought tears to his eyes. Some optimistic voice in the back of his head told him that Angel is fine. He's in his house, drinking away his pain, or sleeping. That optimism and that hope nearly made him crash his bike. It guided him to the door. But then something stopped him. More specifically, a sound stopped him.
EZ went to turn the door knob but found the door was actually slightly ajar. He made sure he had his gun on him, before pushing the door open. As the door opened, that sound became more clear. No, the song became more clear. It was an old song. He'd heard it before. It was loud and he could barely hear his own voice. "Angel?" EZ called out, walking further into the house.
So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
"Angel?" EZ checked the kitchen. Nothing. Nothing was even out of place. No signs of a struggle. He swallowed and went back into the living room.
No burden is he to bear
We'll get there
"Angel? Man it's EZ!" He called out, checking the bathroom now. Nothing. Again, no sign of a struggle.
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother
The bedroom. EZ swallowed, finally pulling his gun out. He flipped the safety off. "Angel?" He cautiously walked down the hallway, hand reaching out. "Angel?" He slowly pushed the bedroom door open.
If I'm laden at all
I'm laden with sadness
That everyone's heart
Isn't filled with the gladness
Of love for one another
The room was never really tidy, but Angel could tell in a split second that something was wrong. The dresser was on it's side. His stack of nude mags were spread across the floor. His cell phone was lying on his bed, ringing. Coco's name appeared across the ID. The room was a mess, but the thing that caught EZ's eye was the knife stuck in the wall with a picture of a burnt body stuck to it. Dita. He would never forget that day. He would never forget that feeling. EZ stepped forward and pulled the knife out of the wall. The knife was covered in dry blood. He took the picture and looked at it, before flipping it around to look at the back. It was dated two days from now.
It's a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we're on the way to there
Why not share
"Fuck!" EZ dropped the photo and the knife, his hands shakily sliding over the top of his head. "FUCK!" He screamed, flipping the night stand over. "Fuck fuck fuck!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. Angel's phone started to ring again, Coco's name once again appearing. "Fuck!"
And the load
Doesn't weigh me down at all
He ain't heavy, he's my brother
EZ grabbed Angel's cell phone and turned it off, before sliding it into his pocket. He grabbed the knife and the photo and left the bedroom, walking out into the living room. "The fuck am I going to do?" He asked no one. He sat down on the couch and put his face in his hands. "Fuck." He slid his hands down his face to cover his mouth, his eyes tearing a little with fear. It took him a moment to realize his pants were soaking wet. Frowning, he stood up and looked down at the dark couch, noticing it was stained. He put his hand against the wet cushion and slowly lift it. Red. Blood. "FUCK!"
He's my brother
He ain't heavy, he's my brother
EZ found himself sitting on the floor, his bloody hand holding his phone as he called Pops. When the familiar voice came through the line, EZ choked for a second before getting himself together. "Pops? Galindo has Angel. We have two days before they kill him."
In the background, the song ended and started to play once again.