Chapter Text
Tony had his fingers wrapped around the gun, the handle hot under his touch. He tugged, but Riff, grip on the barrel, wasn't letting go. They pulled back and forth, neither letting up, strained smiles on their faces. Tony had tried to do it casually, make it playful, to keep Riff from getting angry. But this didn't feel like a game.
Tony needed to get that gun. He was afraid of what might happen if Riff held on to it, if Riff took it to the rumble. Riff was dangerous enough unarmed. Too hot headed for his own good. Always shooting his mouth off. Tony didn't want to think about what might happen if Riff had something else to shoot.
Where had Riff even gotten a gun? Tony swore sometimes Riff would start things, just to see how they’d end...
He pulled harder, knocking the slighter boy off balance. Tony had always had more height to him, more heft. He could win this. He could get the gun, throw it in the Hudson. Riff would be furious. But he would be alive. Everyone would be alive. Which is more than could be promised with a gun in the mix.
Tony's fingers tightened; he was acutely aware of the trigger, didn't know if the safety was on, if this gun even had a safety. Tension was radiating off Riff now. Tony could tell, he wasn't giving up his hold. He wasn't giving up a lot of things.
This was about more than the gun, more than the rumble. This was about their relationship, the two of them. Something was shifting, had shifted, ever since Tony had gotten back from upstate. Ever since he had almost... Well. It was in the past now. He had to let that go. That's what Riff had said. But Tony had almost killed that kid. And it scared him. It scared him that he hadn't known what he was capable of. Now he knew. And he didn't ever want to put himself in a situation like that again. A situation where he could hurt someone, or worse, without even trying. And Riff. Riff wanted him by his side. ON his side. Tony knew where that side led now and he wanted no part of it. He wanted something more. Riff knew this, could sense Tony pulling away, even if he didn't quite understand why, hadn't let himself believe it yet, even if they hadn't really talked about it in simple terms.
But Riff could tell. He could tell Tony was giving up on him, on their whole life together. And it was killing him. Tony could see the hurt on his face, could see the confusion in his eyes, masked by anger but there right behind it. Why, his eyes asked. Why was Tony leaving him? What about womb to tomb? Tony could feel something breaking between them, right now, as they stared at each other, faces inches apart, muscles taut, chests heaving. There was no going back from this. With this action, Tony was choosing to tear them apart.
So this, this grapple for the gun, it meant so much more than it looked from the outside. This was an ending.
The two continued to dance around the holes in the rotting dock, the water visible far below. Tony tugged again, pulling Riff forward. The boy stumbled slightly, almost falling into Tony. Then Riff twisted his arm while taking a quick step back, trying to use the sudden movement against Tony, knowing he wouldn't win with brute force. Riff had always known how to make his weaknesses his advantages. Smaller and skinnier than the other kids? That just meant he could squeeze in and out of tight places. Not as strong as the other kids? He learned to be fast, to strike like a snake and be gone again before the person knew it. Not as brave as the other kids? Well, just act so crazy, put on so much fake bravado, that no one would dare mess with you. That last one was gonna be the death of him, Tony thought, just as he stumbled, dangerously close to an open gash in the rickety dock, almost falling as Riff leapt to the side, flicking his wrist sharply to dislodge Tony's grip.
The old wooden boards creaked menacingly under their feet--Tony felt them sagging with every step the two boys took. They shouldn't even be out there. What were they doing out there? Then he heard a shout. They both turned their heads to see Officer Krupke walking briskly towards them, waving his nightstick angrily. He looked overheated, exasperated and ready to lay down the law. Tony and Riff rolled their eyes at each other simultaneously, momentarily on the same side, whichever side was against the cops. Now there was even more reason to hurry up and end this, before they both got themselves arrested. Tony gritted his teeth, determined to win this battle and get out of here. He squared his shoulders, and shoved hard while jerking his arm back at the same time. It had the desired effect of knocking Riff completely off balance. His grip slipped on the barrel. He stepped back, arms swinging wildly to maintain an upright position. Then Tony heard a sickening crack as the rotten dock boards gave out under Riff's feet, a large jagged hole appearing where a second ago there had been wood. From behind them, Krupke shouted something again, his voice sounding different now. Panicked.
Riff's eyes widened in fear, a sickly mirror image of Tony's own, as he fell backwards, arms pin wheeling, the gun forgotten where it dangled in Tony's hand. Their eyes met for an agonizing moment, a moment that felt endlessly drawn out. Then Tony was staring at an empty space where a second ago his best friend had been.