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Rest in Peace

Summary:

“And your older brother?” The police asked when interviewing Kenny “would he have any reason to act after Lewis Carnagy tried to hurt you?”

“Kevin hasn’t talked to me for months, sir.” Kenny replied, “dont think he knew. Till now, i mean.”

Notes:

Cw: mentions of domestic abuse. Mentions of attempted assault on a minor. Non-graphic description of violence and injury. Mentioned Underaged drinking.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The little church was barely more than a chapel, rundown with cobwebs in every half forgotten corner of the building. Kevin stood between his parents and his siblings.

On his left stood his Mama in her cleanest dress, stained only in a few spots on the skirt, on her left was Pa in a plain shirt and the only pair of jeans he owed without tears.

On his right was little Kenny, only ten and stinking to high heaven already. Omega, as of just a few weeks ago. He was wearing one of Kevin’s old suits, from back when Kev was the only one his parents expected and they were actually trying to be any good.

Kenny’s older than Kev was when he outgrew the thing, but Kenny’s always been small.

Small and blond, with big blue-purple eyes and round freckled cheeks and a gap between his two front teeth. He looked nothing like the brown haired McCormicks, ‘cept Ma’s red hair, but even she had brown eyes.

Pa sometimes muttered about Cheatin’ Bitches. But not where Kenny could hear. Not so long as Kev was there.

On Kenny’s other side was itty bitty Karen, only two, wearing a tiny dress Kenny had made for her from curtains and bedsheets. Ma and Pa hadn’t noticed and Kev sure as hell weren’t gonna tell ‘em.

The little church was packed for once, typically nobody came in here ‘cept on Christmas or Easter. But even the McCormicks were stood in the back, with everyone else crowded in like packed sardines.

“Kev” whispered Kenny, muffled by the big orange coat he insisted on wearin’ even inside. “Everyone’s dressed so fancy.”

Kev didn’t look at his little brother. Didn’t speak to him, hadn’t in weeks. He kept his eyes on the front doors.

Eventually they opened and in walked the pallbearers. Carrying a plain wicker casket. Kev heard rumor that the men all drew straws, shortest ones lost. No one wanted to do it.

The funeral went as Kevin expected. There was weeping, but only in the front row. Old missus Canargy was wrapped in her Daughter-in-law’s arms.

They was both wearin’ black, but the younger lady was wearing far too much makeup on her neck, it kept gettin’ rubbed away by the choker she was wearing to hide it. Everyone politely ignored the purple-green bruises around her throat.

Her three boys fanned out on her other side, watching the casket as though afraid it was gonna leap up and eat them whole.

The preacher stepped up, started speakin’. Lies mostly, but everyone already knew that no preacher tells the truth.

The casket was closed. He knew why. Kev traced his fang with his tongue in memory.

Just another lie that everyone knew. Hide the truth, let folks decide what they believe, side step the fact, let it slide.

The church was stuffy, this suit was stuffy, Kev wanted to get the fuck out, go for a run.

But he couldn’t.

Everyone was lookin' at each other as the preacher proclaimed—

“This Man of God was taken from us by a freak accident that no one could have predicted.”

A lie.

Everyone was wondering who did it.

Who done did it?

It was gonna happen eventually, they all knew, they just wanted to know who.

Vultures, all of ‘em. Itching for the next scrap of gossip to tear into, hungry for it.

Let them starve, Kev thought, it’d do ‘em some good.

“Kev?” Asked Kenny “is that …mr.Carnagy?”

The man’s mother wailed louder, the only sound beside the preacher’s voice. Her grandsons cringed harder, Carnagy’s widow held her stone face.

Kenny rubbed at his wrist, the sleeve slipping just enough for a glimpse of a bruise. Purple and green, matching the widow’s.

Funny how the imprint of an alpha man’s hand looks so big around the throat of his beta wife, around the wrist of a ten year old omega.

“Oh baby” cooed Mama, leaning over Kev “he was your teacher, wasn’t he? It’s ok to be sad.”

A flash of rage and Kev grit his teeth, his alphan fangs ached. But he couldn’t tear into his own mama. Not even if she sent his baby brother into that class, would’ve eventually sent his baby sister into that class.

No matter. It don’t matter none at all.

Carnagy ain’t gonna hurt no one anymore.

“It’s ok Kare.” Kenny whispered to the babbling two year old. Sinking down to sit criss cross on the ground so she could sit in his lap and not get her little dress dirty.

Folks turned their heads to glare. Kev glared right back.

Vultures should mind their own damn business.

As the ceremony came to a close, everyone had to walk in a line to say goodbye at the casket.

In a town so small everybody knew everybody, there weren’t nothing you could get away with.

Not unless folks let you.

And the McCormicks weren’t wealthy, they didn’t even own their house. From the wrong side of the tracks they couldn’t get away with nothin’.

Not like a respected teacher could anyways.

When Kev walked up, he stood at the casket. Only his siblings in line behind him.

Rot in hell, he thought before he turned away, shoving Kenny and Karen in front of him.

“Kev!” Argued Kenny “if we don’t say go’bye we’ll be in trouble.” But he was pale and shaking, holding his arms close around himself and Kev didn’t say a word, just shoved until they were all out of the church.

Ma and Pa grabbed up the littles as Kev pulled out a flask from his coat.

“Boy” Pa snapped “gimme a swig.”

“Get your own.” Kev replied turning away, he could still taste the blood that had spilled inside by accident. Damn. He’d need to deal with that too.

He watched as the pallbearer dragged the casket out with the reverence trash collectors use. He was sure the grave dug out in the little cemetery uneven too.

Good, Kev thought, the bastard’s rest would be uncomfortable as hell. Probably not as uncomfortable as having his throat torn out with a fifteen year old alpha’s teeth.

But hey, a boy could hope.

“Kev.” Kenny whined, pulling on his arm, “c’mon, you gonna come play with me and Kare?”

Kevin shrugged him off and didnt look at him.

Eventually the pup—because he presented only a few weeks ago and that did not make him grown no matter what any bastard said—huffed and marched off, following Ma and Pa along with Karen.

Leaving Kev to watch Lewis Carnagy be buried in the dirt, only his mother’s crocodile tears touched the earth.

 

A few months later, authorities came knocking. Interviewing folks across the little town.

They assumed foul play, after all the coroner had noted the torn out throat and if it wasn’t murder than there had to be a man killing bear or cougar out there.

Of course there was.

Or, had been, at least. A beast in those woods, with a taste of a man-killer. Beating it’s prey bloody and violating them worse than any bear would.

At least a bear would kill ya and that’s all. And even then. Folks put down bears like that.

So the Bastard had to be put down.

He just happened to meet a beast able to do it. More determined than him, younger, stronger, with sharper teeth.

But that’s how the circle of life goes, don’t it? 

Animals kill eachother all the time. Man ain’t no different.

So the coppers didn’t find no killer, just list after list of motive.

“And your older brother?” The police asked when interviewing Kenny “would he have any reason to act after Lewis Carnagy tried to hurt you?”

What a way to pussy foot, Kevin thought from where he was listening in with the rest of his family, in the dark hallway right beside the door that don’t quite close all the way. Didn’t know pigs could dance like that.

“Kevin hasn’t talked to me for months, sir.” Kenny replied, “dont think he knew. Till now, i mean.”

Eventually the coppers left, and everything went back to normal.

At the end of the year, Kev started talkin’ to his little brother again. Glad to have what little bits and pieces his baby siblings were willing to give him.

like he wasn’t some starving wolf sleeping right outside their door. 

Ken even let him hold Karen sometimes, and Kevin never opened his mouth too close too them.

too terrified to feel that itch in his teeth, even if he never felt it against them before.

He’d sooner end his life than ever be a threat to them. Put down like a man-eating beast should be.

 



Years later, the night he left, he argued with their parents till all three of ‘em were screamin’.

About everything under the sun. Kev don’t recall.

But he remembers the rage like nothing else. Rage he had not felt since he had been hidden in an alleyway and spotted a grown man tryin’ to corner his just-presented baby brother on the street walkin’ home from school.

Ken had barely fought him off then, only ten. Kev was fifteen when he decided to kill a man, Kev was fifteen when he got away with it.

 

He was twenty now, Ken was fifteen and Kare was seven.

Ken would take care of her. Ken could take care of himself now. He would have to, because if Kev stayed in this damn house he was gonna kill their parents and he doesn’t think he can get away with it this time.

 

So he left.

 

Funny, isn’t it?

How it’s the leaving he regrets instead of the murder.

The only goodbye he gave was a kick to an old gravestone on his way out of town.

Notes:

Wanioveryourgrave yet again had me thinking about things.

Particularly about Feral Kevin McCormick. And as a feral alpha he’d present a bit differently from Kenny and Karen who, as a feral omega and half-feral beta respectively, display their condition(s) differently.

Also, i was thinking about this when i listened to ‘Rest in Peace’ by Taylor Austin Dye.
Highly recommend.

Anyways, the sixth chapter of Many Mysteries should be up by tomorrow. It’s nearly done! Just adding a final scene and editing some.

Anyways, i hope you enjoy and by all means tell me what you think! I live off comments.

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