Work Text:
Tim Shepard had been 7 the first time he had had to take care of his siblings. Not that he’d been surprised.
He had known that the strangely domestic, motherly mood his mom had been in would wear off eventually. When she had first gotten pregnant, he had been real confused. Why get knocked up again if you didn’t even want the one you already had?
She had been real good about staying clean and taking care of the two little demons for the first two years.
Then, her boyfriend had run out on her and she had picked up the bottle again, drinking away her feelings.
She had gone out one night, looking around to see if there was anyone who could get her anything a little stronger than cigarettes and alcohol.
She had come back two days later completely greened out, with a dopey smile on her face, talking about how much she loved them all. He had taken care of the twins for the days she was gone, and they had been sleeping on his bed.
She had then gone into her room and passed out and slept for another day.
Since then, it had been up to Tim to care for his siblings. He would feed them and water them and he let them both sleep in his bed until they were 4, and “too old” to sleep in the same bed as their brother. (Even then, sometimes they would come into his room and tuck themselves into his side after a nightmare or an argument.)
Hell, Angela had called him “Papa” long before she had ever called him “Tim”.
He had been there for their first year of school and when Curly had to stay back in second grade and Angela had started failing, so he wouldn’t be alone. He had been there for their first crushes and heartbreaks. He had been there when Curly committed his first crime and when Angela first beat up a girl who was picking on her.
He had been there for everything, and he loved them. He had a real fucked up way of showing it, but he loved the two dumbasses.
So, when their dad had come back, talking about how he was a “changed man” and he deserved a chance to be a better father to his children, Tim hadn’t taken kindly to it.
Angie had walked into the house and froze upon spotting him in the kitchen.
“Tim?” she had questioned, the most helpless he had ever heard her.
Curly wouldn’t be back until later, and Tim was suddenly very grateful for that fact. He knew that, of the two of them, Curly was more of a loose cannon than Angela.
He would either try to fight him or just go off on one of his crime sprees and get in more trouble than was good for him.
“Hey Angie, how you been?” he said with a smarmy smile on his face.
“Don’t call me that. That’s not my name.” She said immediately, apparently over her shock.
The guy had the gall to look confused, like he should have the privilege of calling her a nickname after up and disappearing for over half of her life.
It was tense for a minute more until their mother came flouncing into the room. “Jimmy’s back!” She said excitedly, like that wasn’t obvious.
“Yeah, I can see that.” Angela spit out with a truly impressive amount of venom lacing her words.
She didn’t even seem to notice, just hanging off Jimmy’s arm, oblivious to her children glaring at the both of them.
“Why is he here?” Tim eventually questioned cautiously.
His mom looked confused for a moment, before answering, “He’s the father of two of the kids that live here. I think he deserves to be here.”
Angela looked like she was about to blow her top. Sure enough, a couple seconds later she yelled, “He was never here! He ain’t a father to no one! Much less me ‘n Curly! I don’t even know him!”
Tim sighed, knowing what was going to happen long before his mother’s face became overshadowed with some dark, angry, unidentifiable emotion. Before he knew it, Angela and his mom were engaged in a screaming match.
He was content to let it just play out until his mom picked up a wineglass that had been set on the counter and tried throwing it at Angela.
He was quick to jump in and grab her wrist, twisting it so the glass would fall to the ground and shatter.
Before he knew it, he had been pulled into the argument too, making sure things didn’t get any more physical.
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let him just come back here after he was gone for 13 years!”
“He’s your father!”
“I don’t have a father! I haven’t had one since I was two!”
“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady!”
“Thirteen years, Ma! Thirteen!”
“He deserves a chance, Angela!”
It was back and forth. Both English and Spanish insults and arguments being hurled back and forth between them.
Eventually, once Angela had had enough and their mother had made it clear she wasn’t changing her mind on this, Angie stormed away, slamming the door to her room which caused his mother to go crazy all over again, throwing a knife into the wall where Angela had last been and sobbing-crying into Jimmy’s chest. Tim couldn’t care less, going over to Angela’s room and silently taking a seat in her desk chair.
She had her knees pulled up to her chest, and she was gazing out the window.
It was perfectly silent in the room for a minute. Not tense. Not awkward. There was never a weird silence between them.
Eventually, Angela sighed and asked, “Why would she let him back?”
Tim didn’t have an answer for her. They all knew he would only leave her again, but their mother always just accepted him back. She did the same thing with every man that came in and out of her life, and she was always shocked when it didn’t work out.
“I don’t know, kid. Maybe she just doesn’t know what else to do.”
She hummed thoughtfully, but ultimately said nothing. That’s when he realized it wasn’t about their mother. It was about Jimmy.
“She might think that him being your father’ll be enough to get you and Curly to accept him back with open arms. She could finally have her perfect little family life.” She scoffs at that. “Hell, before he left, he was the longest boyfriend she had ever kept, that’s for damn sure.”
Angela turned to glare at him and put her legs down just so she could stomp her foot. “Don’t make excuses for her, Tim! Or him. Neither of ‘em deserve it.”
“Jesus, I ain’t making excuses for ‘em, Angel. Dammit, I know they don’t deserve it. They don’t deserve nothin’. Not you and Curly or their little family dream or nothin’. I’m just tryin’ ta rationalize this shit or whatever the fuck.”
She seemed to calm down at that, sighing and falling backwards, so she laid looking at the ceiling.
“How’s Curly gonna react?” she asked after a few seconds.
Tim, again, had no answer for her.
She sighed and rolled over, so she just laid on her side, staring at the wall.
He waited for a couple of minutes more, thinking she might say something else. But she didn’t, just stayed staring at the wall. He got up and left the room quietly.
If it were a couple of months earlier, he would head over to Buck’s place. Ask for Dallas and make him help look for Curly while complaining about everything going on. But he couldn’t do that anymore.
So instead, he just got into his old, beat-up car and started driving to any place Curly hung around these days. There weren’t too many places he could be at this time of day. Nothing really happened until night fell. Finally, once he checked everywhere else, he pulled up in front of Will Rogers High School and waited.
He thought about what to tell Curly. He knew that no one hated Jimmy as much as Curly. It was strange, almost, how deeply he disliked his own father, but Tim guesses he could understand. He had never held a grudge against his own old man, who had skipped town long before Jimmy had. He wouldn’t want to stay here either.
After he stayed sat there for a while, he heard the distant bell that signaled the end of any after-school shit that might’ve been going on, and a couple of kids came stumbling out of the doors.
Tim would’ve gotten out of the car and went to get Curly himself by now, if he wasn’t dreading the conversation he was about to have so much.
Sure enough, Curly was one of the last kids to leave the school, trailing after Ponyboy, who seemed to be talking about whatever book was in his hands.
Curly nodded along and added in some parts to the conversation, but looked altogether uninterested in whatever Pony had to say.
Tim could see the exact moment Curly noticed his car, because his steps faltered, and his brow furrowed together like it did whenever he got confused.
Ponyboy also paused and turned back to ask Curly a question when he stopped walking.
Curly seemed to wave off whatever he had to say, pointing over to Tim and jogging over. Pony looked confused but shouted a goodbye and waved at Curly’s back, then tilting his head and looking at Tim to wave to him too.
Tim just nodded and raised two fingers off the steering wheel. The closer Curly got, the more he noticed the look on his face. Like he was about to be executed or some shit.
He got it together when he finally opened the passenger door and slipped in next to Tim, though.
“Hey man, what’re you doing here? I told you I was gonna be late. You didn’t wait out here since school ended, did ya?” Curly asked. His tone was cool, but Tim could hear the undercurrent of nervousness in his voice.
“Nah. I jus’ got here. Thought I would do somethin’ nice and pick ya up.”
Curly let out some of the tension in his shoulders. “So I ain’t in trouble or nothin’ like that?”
Tim looked at him weird out of the corner of his eye and he snapped his mouth shut.
They stayed in silence until they were pulling into the driveway. Tim killed the engine, and before Curly could get out of the car, he turned and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Look, Curls. I know this ain’t gonna make you happy, but I need you to promise me you’re not gonna blow your top when I tell you.”
Just like that, the tension was back, making Curly rigid and stiff.
“I ain’t promisin’ shit when you're actin’ like this, Tim. I don’t know what the hell could be makin’ you want me to promise not to blow up.” He said this like it was unheard of for Curly to ever do something stupid or reckless out of anger. Tim could just barely keep himself from snorting.
He fixed him with a serious expression. “I’m not fuckin’ around, Curly. You can’t blow up.”
Curly looked real uncomfortable now, his shoulders hunched. “What, did Angel do somethin’?” he asked.
Tim sighed, leaning slightly against the old beat-up seat of the car.
“Nah, Angel’s fine. Promise, Curly.”
Curly finally looked tired of dancing around the whole issue, looking at Tim and going, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I won’t go insane if you tell me whatever it is that’s got you acting like somebody died.”
Tim took a deep breath in, preparing for the storm, and simply said, “Jimmy’s back, Curls.”
One thing about Curly, he might not look anything like her, but he and his mother were one and the same. It took only a couple of seconds for the same dark emotion to come over his face and Tim felt dread pool in his stomach as Curly yanked the door open and slammed it before storming up to the house.
Tim was out of the car, running towards the house before he could even think about it.
He got inside just in time to hear Curly storming around, yelling “Where is he?” to no one.
Angela’s door remained firmly shut, and Tim knew he wouldn’t be hearing from her any more tonight.
He went to the kitchen, hurrying through the hallway, giving just a cursory glance into every room. Finally, he reached their mother’s room. Usually, the door was shut tight and for a while, when they were younger, it had even been locked. Now they knew not to go in there.
Poking his head in the room, he saw Curly, throwing stuff around like Jimmy was hiding under one of the shirts on the bed. There were empty bottles of beer and harder liquor scattered throughout the room, mixed in with the cigarette butts that littered the floor.
It smelled like a party at Buck’s, except without the sweaty teenagers added to it.
“Curly!” Tim tried yelling from the doorway. He knew not to go inside the room. He had always been told not to bother his mom. To not even open the door, even if the house was burning down.
Curly barely looked up, still tossing things around.
“Charles!”
No reaction.
Tim took a deep breath, steeling himself before stepping into the room. He hated it immediately. It felt like he was breaking a rule. But not just a normal one. He was fine with breaking the rules, and he had the criminal record to prove it. It felt like he was breaking some divine rule of the universe or some shit. He was expecting to be struck down for daring to enter this room when every fiber of his being was screaming, no! He was momentarily pulled into every memory he had of being in here.
It passed by in a haze of smoke and liquor and pain, and he snapped out of it quick enough that Curly hadn’t even noticed the pause in his steps.
Tim crossed to where Curly was, now on the floor, looking under the bed, and put both hands on his shoulders, pulling him up.
Even when he had Curly up, off the floor, his brother still looked around wildly, like Jimmy would materialize out of nowhere.
“Curly!”
It snapped him out of it, and he looked into Tim’s eyes. “Huh?”
“C’mon, man, you promised to keep your cool.”
Curly snorted drily, ducking his head and saying, “That was before you told me he was back in town.”
Angela could say Jimmy’s name with an impressive amount of disdain in her voice, but Tim had never known Curly to say his name. It was both more and less disrespectful at the same time.
“A deal’s a deal.” Tim said simply.
Curly sighed and said, “Whatever, man. Where is he?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Obviously not here, though.” he said, looking pointedly around the trashed room. He then used his hand on Curly’s shoulders to guide them both out of the room. It was like a breath of fresh air, stepping into the hallway where he was able to shed the blanket of thick discomfort that had settled over him when he entered that room.
“You’re not gonna go after him. Got it, Curls?”
Curly looked up at him with sharp eyes, and Tim thought for a second that he would defy him. But then he looked down again, sighing. And then, finally, like it was the most painful thing he’d ever had to do, he grits out the words, “Yeah, man, I dig.”
Tim gives him a satisfied smile and pushes him slightly over to his room.
Curly just gives in, walking over and closing the door behind him.
Tim stood in the hallway for another couple of moments before laying eyes on Angela’s door again.
He walked over to it and knocked. He knew that no one would answer. Angela liked locking herself up in both her room, as well as her mind when she was in a mood like this afternoon, and Tim listened to the cold silence for a couple moments before walking away and sitting down at the kitchen table.
He was counting pills for Buck when Jimmy got back. His mother was nowhere in sight.
It was around midnight when he stumbled into the kitchen, feeling around the counter until he got to the sink, picking up one of the cups next to the sink and filling it with tap water.
He drank it. Tim felt almost bad for the dude, knowing he was most likely going to get sicker from whatever was in the cup before that. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to feel anything but a prickling hatred toward the man.
He had managed to reduce both of his siblings to their most self-defensive (and self-destructive) state in the less-than-24 hours he had been here.
He finally stopped drinking the water, putting down his cup and stumbling over to take the seat across the table from Tim. He pulled the pills closer to himself, looking down and cursing when he realized he mixed them up.
Jimmy hiccupped and then laughed, staring vaguely near Tim, but not looking at him.
“You know, me and Elena. We’re gonna be a family one day.” He slurred after a couple more minutes of staring and Tim looked at him weirdly. “You know, get married and all that stuff. Have kids.”
This time, when Tim looked up, it was less of a confused gaze and more of a sharp glare. “You already have kids.” He commented casually, like he was talking about the weather and not his siblings.
The man didn’t even seem to notice the danger he was putting himself in, just staring at Tim with a stupid smile.
“Those two don’t count.”
Tim bit down the anger, saying, “Why not?”
Jimmy looked at him all confused, before laughing and hiccupping again. “Well, I didn’t raise ‘em, of course. I heard all about those two when I was out earlier. One of ‘em is a JD and the other’s a slut.”
Tim always kept a switchblade on him. Even when he was sleeping. It was how he kept himself alive. It was how he felt safe. Now, it was poised carefully against Jimmy’s throat.
He had been up and moving before he had even realized it. Jimmy was leaning dangerously back in the chair away from the knife, apparently not drunk enough to disregard danger yet.
“Don’t you dare talk about Angela or Curly.” he said simply, but it was enough to make Jimmy nod his head frantically.
“Okay. Okay.” He babbled on in his chair, looking like he was about to piss himself. “I won’t talk about ‘em.”
Tim only slightly took the blade off his throat so he could haul him up by the front of his shirt.
The guy was still mumbling apologies, but he stopped when Tim started talking again.
“You know, I don’t like you. Neither does Angela or Curly. They don’t very much appreciate you coming back into their lives now. Hell, Curly was out for blood earlier.” The guy paled even further. He looked like a sheet of paper. Good. Let him be scared. “I’m startin’ to think maybe I should have let him.”
“No, man, you shouldn’t have. Trust me, I don’t want any problems.” Tim knew what Jimmy was seeing right now wasn’t Tim, big brother of Angela and Curly. He was seeing Tim Shepard, leader of one of the most ruthless gangs in Tulsa, who had been in and out of prison since the age of twelve.
It was pathetic, how he was shivering and cowering.
Tim dropped the front of his shirt and let him struggle to regain his footing, watching him stumble his way over to the doorway.
“Leave. Leave Tulsa and don’t come back.” he said, his dark blue eyes alight with the thrill of scaring him so badly. “If you come back, I won’t stop Curly. And if he doesn’t get the job done, trust me, I will.”
The guy looked so goddamned scared, whimpering apologies and saying, “Fucking crazy. All of you.” as he slipped out the front door.
Tim could hear him get in the car, and only a second after the old, rattling engine started up, heard the car crash into some trash cans on the street.
It was a bad idea for him to be driving.
Tim didn’t particularly care.
He packed up the pills, knowing he wasn’t going to finish counting them all tonight after losing all his progress.
He simply packed everything up and went to bed.
(If that night, after he had fallen asleep, Angela climbed into his bed, they didn’t talk about it. She was gone in the morning.)
The next morning, it was just a fact that Jimmy wasn’t here anymore. He didn’t get any questioning stares, he just got a silent understanding between siblings.