original; beginnings, breakfast, dinner, death

2007-01-05T06:49:14Z

Alright, after RPing two of my characters with a friend, I realized that the two characters had a history that was a million times more complex than I had originally thought it would be. Complex enough, actually, for me to make an entire freaking site for them.

And then I realized that well, I sort of needed to chronicle their history, you know? A character profile just wasn't enough for them. So I figured that I would have to actually have to do some writing and that there would be some actual work involved.

Here's the official site, character profiles and all: jereleo.atspace.com

And here's their story, based on fanfic100 prompts because they're easier to write as prompts. Their history doesn't come to me in order of chronology--it comes to me in flashes of scenarios, so yeah, easier to write it right away and to chronolize them along the way.

001. beginnings
august 1999, summer 2002

Leo and Jeremy first met completely by accident. Leo was on a flight going back to California from Virginia where his grandparents lived. He had spent practically an entire summer in the countryside mucking out the stables and moving cattle from pasture to pasture on the whims of his grandfather. He was fairly sure that he smelled faintly of manure but he had long since gotten used to the smell so he didn’t know.

After all, at the age of sixteen, he still had to do what his mom wanted him to do. He had dissented the agreement at the beginning of summer—but of course that came to no avail.

The man sitting next to him (well, Leo didn’t know because he was still in that awkward phase in between a man and a boy—legally an adult but hardly old enough to be considered one in the sense of the word) seemed to be tired as hell because he had his head tipped back and he had fallen asleep while reading the newest issue of the Economist. Leo had been reading it surreptitiously over the man’s shoulder because there was nothing else to do on the airplane—but this was his third time through a rather dull article on Clinton’s presidency. Light brown hair fell over the man’s closed eyes as he shifted slightly, the magazine slipping from his fingers and onto his lap.

This was Jeremy. Leo just didn’t know it yet. Halfway through the flight, they still hadn’t been introduced because Jeremy had fallen asleep.

Plucking up his courage, Leo deftly picked up the magazine, shooting glances to see if Jeremy would wake up at all, before managing to get it away from its rightful owner. Leo normally never read any magazine that didn’t have a band or skateboarder on the front—but desperate times called for desperate measures.

It was later, when Leo was skimming through an article on global warming that Jeremy woke up. He glanced fuzzily around, peering in confusion as if trying to figure out what the hell was going on before his eyes settled on the magazine in Leo’s hands.

“Ah,” he thought aloud to himself, “Someone has stolen my magazine.”

Leo glanced up alarmed and laughed before flipping to the page that Jeremy had been on and giving it back to the older man, “Sorry about that. It’s just that flights are really boring, you know.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy let a sleepy chuckle past his lips as he tried to focus on the article he had been reading. He glanced at his watch before looking up at Leo, “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know how far from LA we are, would you?”

“No idea,” Jeremy glanced at his watch before amending his previous statement, “It’s about twenty minutes or so, I think.”

“How long have I been out?”

Leo’s grin was somewhat wry, “Maybe about three hours or so.”

“I must have been a scintillating conversationalist.”

“Yeah you were saying some pretty weird things in your sleep.”

Jeremy tensed, and he seemed uneasy, “Oh really?”

Leo’s grin faltered the slightest bit, “No, I was just kidding. You didn’t say anything. At least you kept to your side of the seat though, I’ve sat through flights with old ladies drooling on my shoulder.”

Jeremy laughed and went back to his magazine. Leo picked up the in flight brochure for some far off island he would never go to, and started to read.

The first time they had been introduced was three years later, when Jeremy was in his first year of law school at Columbia. Leo was in his sophomore year of undergrad at UCLA and still struggling for money.

Jeremy joined the mafia for reasons different than Leo’s. Leo was struggling to stay afloat to just pay his school loans and his monthly rent; working with drugs was just too dangerous in California just because all the law enforcement officers knew all the tricks and were constantly keeping tab on the new ones. Leo hadn’t been caught yet—but he was willing to stop before it got too far.

Instead he took up an entirely new business—one that was much more old fashioned and something that the cops still hadn’t caught up with entirely: murder.

Leo had heard through an old friend of his that there was an organization who paid a great deal for people who weren’t hesitant to dirty their hands—and Leo knew from the beginning that he would probably somehow end up in it. It began with a visit to the local headquarters, posing unobtrusively as a local restaurant in the milder parts of town.

Three hours later, he had a gun shoved at him with his first assignment—to take care of a local gang leader because their activities were interfering with the Organization’s plans. It was Organization with a capital O, for those who had just joined—the older members called it simply ‘the boys.’

Leo discovered later that week that he was a natural talent at shooting. All he had to do was look at a target from a two hundred feet range to be able to hit it. He blocked out the fact that he was about to take a human life and just pulled the damn trigger. He had stumbled into the nearest alley and puked moments later and he couldn’t look anyone in the eye for a week afterwards.

“You’ll do boy,” was the only thing that the recruitment manager said, as Leo dropped the distinctive necklace that the gang leader wore onto the oak table. The manager looked up, a bemused expression on his face, “How many shots did you use, boy?”

Leo didn’t meet his eyes as he placed the pistol on the table, “One.”

“You using makeup to hide the injuries?”

“What?” Leo looked up, momentarily thrown off track by the question, “Oh, no, I didn’t get hurt.”

The manager looked him over as if contemplating something before finally jabbing a finger over his shoulder, “Let’s go to the range. I want to see you shoot.”

Leo followed wordlessly.

Three weeks later, a FedEx employee dropped off a single envelope at his dingy apartment. After signing to verify that he had received the package, he tore the envelope open, only to reveal a one way ticket to New York City and a slip of paper with an address on it.

Leo didn’t need to look twice to know who it was from. There was no one from his old life who could even afford the tickets. This had to have come from the Organization.

Which was how another two weeks later at the end of June, Leo found himself in New York, looking down the barrel of a standard issue pistol and punching bulletholes through the center circle—bullseyes.

Jeremy was asked to watch if only because the Boss merely wanted a show of manpower and sheer numbers. It wasn’t as if any of the men who showed up really could have helped with his decision of whether or not to accept this newbie into the training ranks of the elite.

The decision barely even had to be made, really. The Boss handed the poor kid a new revolver and pointed to a woman bound to a chair not even twenty feet from where he was standing. By his gesturing, it was obvious that he wanted him to shoot the struggling woman. It was an easy shot—way too easy.

The kid looked sick and barely lifted the gun before dropping it onto the ground and shaking his head violently despite the disapproving gazes of those men gathered around to watch, “No, I can’t do that.” The Boss leveled a look at him, a single line creasing his brow and Leo fought to keep his face steady, to keep his hands from shaking too much because the Boss really was an intimidating man.

“You’re going to defy my orders?” he asked in a pleasant tone, bending down to pick up the revolver and holding it out a second time. The boy was obviously trying to suppress his terror—if he didn’t shoot her, what would happen to him? Long seconds passed, and finally the Boss withdrew the revolver carefully, placing it back into the box he had taken it from. With that done, he swept out of the room, indicating that this session was over.

The assembled men began talking amongst themselves, the still trembling boy practically forgotten as soon as the Boss promptly left. He swiftly moved to a corner of the room where he began retching—dry heaving on an empty stomach. Jeremy leaned against the wall, watching the kid crouch and give in to shudders.

He couldn’t have been older than nineteen, Jeremy realized. He walked over to where the boy was, crouching down next to him.

“Hey, you okay?”

The kid looked at him through a fringe of hair with blue eyes that for some reason seemed familiar to Jeremy as if he had seen them before somewhere. He gave Jeremy a strained faint smile, “Yeah, never been better.”

“Alright, stupid question,” Jeremy conceded, “What’s your name?”

“Leo,” the kid wiped his mouth and straightened slightly—his smile was friendly but Jeremy could see that he was struggling to maintain his composure. Hell, he probably wanted Jeremy to just go the hell away so he could freak out in peace. “What’s yours?”

“Jeremy,” Jeremy responded, “How long you been around?”

“Maybe a month,” Leo admitted, his attention trailing briefly to the congregated men who glanced at him every so often.

“I haven’t seen you around,” Jeremy commented in surprise.

“I’m from California,” Leo amended, with what could have been considered as a shy smile.

“Which would be why you don’t talk like you’re from New York.”

“Probably.”

A man was hobbling over to where they were situated, and both of them straightened to their feet. The old man looked Leo over and glanced briefly at Jeremy before addressing the younger man, “Go back to California, boy, and roughen up.” With that said, he turned and walked back.

Leo ran a hand through his hair, laughing slightly under his breath, “Like I wasn’t expecting that.” He shoved a hand into his back pocket, watching the retreating back of the old man before turning to Jeremy with a joking smile, “How far do you think I can get on fifty bucks?”

Jeremy lifted an eyebrow, “Not far enough.”

Jeremy laughed again, this time a bit more hysterically, “God, I’ve really gotten myself into a mess of it, haven’t I?”

Jeremy remained quiet, unsure of what to say.

“I guess I’ll just hitchhike my way out of here,” Leo concluded to himself, “I can’t believe I even came out here without even thinking about it.” He glanced at Jeremy, hesitating a moment, “Hey um, would it be possible in any way for you to drive me to the outskirts of the city?”

Jeremy glanced at Leo, a questioning look on his face.

“Mostly so I can avoid the cabs, I don’t think they want to pick up hitchhikers,” Leo added in explanation, awkwardly continuing on as he blushed slightly, “But if you’re too busy, I totally understand. I’m mostly just a random stranger so you know—”

“Yeah I can take you,” Jeremy interrupted, easing into a smile, “Calm down, it’s all cool.”

Leo breathed a sigh of relief.

It was how Jeremy found himself slowing to a stop on the side of a road that lead west. Leo had brought nothing with him, only his wallet and his cell phone—and hardly any of his friends would be capable of getting him a plane ticket or the money needed to get him back home. And it was completely useless to talk to his mother who was still angry at him for even thinking about attending college.

“I guess this is it,” Leo said conversationally, looking at Jeremy. The car ride had been conducted in silence—Leo was desperately trying to figure out what he could do to make sure he got back to California in one piece and Jeremy let his curiosity of the other man remain unvoiced.

“Yeah,” Jeremy responded vaguely, looking at Leo and smiling slightly. Leo let a slight smile touch his lips—he was too nervous and nauseous to really grin back as he would have done in any other situation.

“Thank you so much for the ride,” Leo sounded sincere, looking Jeremy in the eye, “Maybe someday we’ll meet up again and I’ll be able to repay you somehow. I owe you one, man.”

Jeremy waved a hand, “Hey, I’m sure you would have done the same in my place.”

Leo smiled again, “If you ever come down to California, we should definitely hang out, yeah?”

Jeremy’s smile widened slightly, “Yeah, for sure.”

Leo gave a last wave and shut the door of the car. Their eyes locked one last time before Jeremy made a u-turn and headed back the way he had come.

The sun was setting, Jeremy noted absently as he drove. He flicked his headlights on and looked at the figure of Leo standing on the side of the road getting progressively smaller. There was something at the back of his head gnawing at his consciousness—and with a start he realized that it was guilt.

Guilt for leaving a complete stranger on the side of the road? Guilt for not learning the story of the boy who didn’t deserve to be ruthlessly tossed aside?

He had been driving for ten minutes, and with a sudden sort of panic, he hoped to God that no one had picked Leo up. He couldn’t let the kid just hitchhike his way across America with all the shady characters prowling around. There might have been kindhearted people who really didn’t mind picking up hitchhikers—it was just that Jeremy had quite a pessimistic outlook on humanity.

He made another u-turn and headed started heading back.

Twenty minutes since Jeremy’s car had followed the bend in the road and disappeared from sight, the same car was driving back around that bend. Leo had held his thumb in the air for quite a long time, but the drivers just kept zooming past without even so much as a glance at him.

When the silver Jetta pulled up alongside the side of the road a second time, Leo looked at it confusedly. The passenger window rolled down and Jeremy leaned towards him, “Get in.”

“I can’t—you’ve done too much already,” Leo’s protest was weak.

“No I absolutely insist,” Jeremy’s voice had a clear tone of command, and his blue eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses.

Leo opened his mouth as if to protest again, but instead he closed it and opened the door again, slipping into the passenger seat. Jeremy glanced at him before making his third u-turn that day and heading back in the direction of New York City.

056. breakfast
early july 2002

The weirdest thing about having another person in his apartment, Jeremy realized, was waking up in the morning to already smell coffee in the coffeemaker and to have the muted noise of the television playing the news in the background. He glanced at his alarm clock, noting the time (7:30am) and promptly rolled out of bed, pulling an old shirt over his head as he went.

A week since Jeremy had opened his flat to Leo until Leo had enough money to grab a plane ticket back to California, Leo had been waking up earlier than anyone normal woke up. Jeremy didn’t really mind—he had to get up early to get down into town so he could get to his internship on time; he just found it mildly amusing that Leo, who didn’t have to go down to the local supermarket until ten in the morning woke up so early.

Leo didn’t even drink coffee during the summer, citing that he was trying to cut back on caffeine, but he made the best damn coffee that Jeremy had tasted. He had no idea what the younger man did differently, but hell, it made a hell of a lot of difference.

Leo was watching the news in mild interest spoon absently digging through a bowl of cereal. Jeremy glanced at his plasma screen, where a woman was describing the warm front coming through the New England area. Jeremy shook his head slightly.

“Makes me glad to be working as a stockboy in an air conditioned store,” Leo grinned, looking from the television to Jeremy who was pouring himself a cup of coffee, “But California’s a million times hotter than this, I have to say.”

“I’m so jealous of your air conditioned state,” Jeremy grinned back, bringing the mug to his lips, “I’ll probably come by this evening to restock the fridge. Maybe grab a camera or something just in case I ever have to blackmail you.”

“Good thinking. I’ll be sure to stand in very compromising positions.”

Jeremy laughed and took his coffee into his room to get properly dressed. Leo looked back at the television, chewing another spoonful of Cheerios.

It was weird—Jeremy had told Leo shortly that he would be staying at his apartment (ridiculously expensive flat from the looks of it) until he had enough money to fly back to California because—and here Jeremy launched into a longwinded rant about the seedier people in America. Leo had been too grateful to be annoyed at the lecture like he normally would have been if it had come from anyone else.

And now Leo was walking around shirtless in a new set of pyjama pants as easily as if he was in his room at home. It was weird how quickly they had fallen into a routine that accommodated each other as if they had been somehow living with each other for a long time. There was a distinct lack of awkwardness hanging in the air, as if they weren’t practically strangers—which Leo knew they were.

Dumping his cereal bowl in the sink, Leo moved to fold the blanket on the couch, arranging the pillow so that it covered the presence of the blanket. He glanced up at the television a last time before turning it off.

He changed into normal clothes and grabbed his keys and wallet from off the counter. He had to use Jeremy’s phone to locate his cell phone (stuck in between the couch cushions, of course), and after digging a few moments in the couch, managed to pull out enough loose change for a dollar and his beat up mobile.

Jeremy came out of his room, tying his tie with one hand and holding his coffee with the other. Leo barely glanced up, “Your tie isn’t as horrible as the one yesterday was.”

Jeremy looked down at his tie—it was a dark blue one that his grandmother insisted brought out the color of his eyes. He tried to remember what tie he had been wearing yesterday.

“It was an interesting shade of green,” Leo said, as if reading Jeremy’s mind while he typed a response to a text that he had gotten in the middle of the night. He finally pocketed his cell phone. Sweeping the change off the coffee table and into his hand, Leo dropped the change into Jeremy’s hand, “Also, your couch seems to have eaten several coins.”

“I haven’t housebroken it very well,” Jeremy admitted with a grin, dropping the change onto the kitchen counter and pouring himself a second cup of coffee while finishing tying his tie. Leo grinned back and pulled on his sneakers.

“I’m going out for my run. You want to come pick me up at nine tonight?”

“While getting blackmail material, yeah,” Jeremy flipped open the newspaper, watching Leo struggle briefly with his left sneaker.

“Great,” Leo laughed, “Seeya.”

Jeremy waved his mug and Leo smiled as he closed the door.

058. dinner
late july 2002

Two weeks into Leo’s stay and Jeremy realized that he knew very little about the other boy.

They had talked—sure—but their conversation mostly centered around the trivial observations of life, like how maybe if all girls looked like the women in the soap operas, maybe life would be just as dramatic as the soaps made them out to be. Leo’s mind wandered easily—he could converse about nothing at all most times and still manage to cause the person he was conversing with to come away with the feeling that they had just undergone a meaningful conversation.

Jeremy sat outside on the balcony with his laptop on the small glass table, feet propped up on the chair across from him. The one good thing about living in an expensive neighborhood was probably the ability to leave his patio furniture where it belonged—outside without much worry of it getting stolen. The sun was setting, the afternoon summer heat dissipating in favor of cool breezes that shifted through the leaves of the trees. Jeremy wasn’t paying much attention to his laptop—instead he was watching the slowly growing figure of Leo coming down the sidewalk, red vest of the grocery store slung over one shoulder.

As Leo approached the bottom of the building, he looked up at Jeremy and his lips lifted into a grin. Jeremy leaned over the railing, yelling, “I would have come given you a ride if you had called.”

“And what, deny me of my lovely walk back through the suburbs of New York?”

“The two mile walk?”

Leo threw his vest at Jeremy, and since Jeremy lived on the third floor and Leo’s aim was rather good, it hit him in the face. A wry smile twisting his face, Jeremy pulled it off and prepared to aim it back at Leo, but he was nowhere to be found.

A few moments later, a scratching in the keyhole of the door alerted Jeremy to Leo’s entrance. Jeremy narrowed his eyes, standing on the open screen door leading onto the balcony. Leo slowly opened the door as if he was expecting some sort of retribution—and when it was open wide enough, his own vest smacked him on the face.

Jeremy’s smile was brilliant, “I win.”

“More like it’s a tie,” Leo’s smirk was good-natured, “Are we going to heat up frozen waffles again for dinner or are you going to beat me into making something?”

“Hey, I offered to cook once,” Jeremy closed his laptop and unplugged it from outside to go back in.

“Which is why I’m surprised I haven’t died yet of inevitable food poisoning, but I’m still waiting,” Leo opened the fridge and rifled through the contents, “Vegetables. More vegetables. Condiments. Where do you keep the meat? Oh that’s right. I forgot you can’t make anything more complicated than a salad.”

“I’ve made sandwiches before,” Jeremy set his laptop on the dining room table and considered maybe cleaning off the table at some point—it looked like some sort of bomb had exploded in his files and now all of his notes were spread all over the place, “You want to grab some Chinese or something?”

“Too much MSG. Want to get Italian?” Leo continued to rummage through the fridge.

“Sure,” Leo picked his keys up off the counter, leaving his work behind on the table. It was relieving in a way, he supposed, to finally have an excuse to turn away and take a break occasionally.

Leo shut the door with a grin, “Great. I should go change.”

Jeremy closed the glass door leading out onto the porch, rolling his eyes at the complete lack of shame that Leo had as he promptly stripped out of his black trousers and pulled on a pair of jeans; pulling off his white shirt for a black one with faded gold lettering. Jeremy didn’t bother changing out of his work clothes; the dark green tie still hung loosely around his neck, grey pinstripe jacket thrown over the back of a dining room chair.

“Ready,” Leo checked his cell phone before opening the door, “Come on.”

Jeremy pulled on his shoes and complied.

Fifteen minutes later, Jeremy pulled up in front of a casual Italian diner—he was sick of all the expensive places that his parents never seemed to have run out of when he was younger. Leo got out of the Jetta, shoved his hands into his back pockets and looked at the front of the restaurant.

“You’ve been surprisingly quiet,” Jeremy commented, opening the door for the two of them.

“Yeah, I’ve just been thinking about stuff.”

“Care to elaborate?”

The waitress showed them to a booth at the back of the restaurant, nestled in the corner.

“I’m hoping to get out of your hair soon,” Leo looked up at Jeremy seriously, “I really appreciate all that you’ve done—you have no idea.”

“I couldn’t really leave you out to get kidnapped by serial rapists,” Jeremy pointed out in what he hoped to be a logical tone, “And you seemed like a nice guy who had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, you know? I didn’t think you were about to pillage my apartment.”

“But it was still exceptionally nice of you,” Leo argued, “I mean seriously, all of my friends from out west would have probably just kicked me out on my ass or something. And seriously, if you ever come out to California sometime, you’ve got a place to stay, no question.”

“I will then,” Jeremy’s smile was genuine as he shifted the conversation to a different topic, “White sauce or red?”

“Red all the way,” Leo replied without missing a beat, glancing back down at his menu, “I might just get traditional spaghetti after all.”

“Why did you join?” Jeremy was just jumping all over the place tonight.

Leo paused a moment as if considering his answer, “I needed the money.”

“Couldn’t find it in other ways?”

“I go to UCLA—didn’t I ever tell you? Part time jobs don’t really pay the tuition well.”

“What about financial aid?”

Leo shrugged slightly, “My mom doesn’t really think anything good will come out of college and that it’s a waste of money. I pay for everything myself.”

“You live on campus though?”

“Nah, I moved off campus into a cheaper apartment. Commuting sucks but it’s alright sometimes.”

There was a long silence as Jeremy realized how different he was from Leo—never having to worry about financial burden, never having to ever wonder once in his life if he was going to have enough to afford another meal that week.

“What can I get you boys?” the waitress was back with a falsely cheery smile. Leo could see the circles under her eyes not quite covered with concealer.

“Spaghetti please,” Leo said, giving her his most charming smile. She blushed slightly, dipping to take his menu before looking at Jeremy.

“Ravioli in red sauce, thank you,” Jeremy handed over his menu. The waitress looked from him to Jeremy, who gave her a small smile before she blushed again and left to place their orders with the chef.

Leo took a drink of his water, looking at the plant hanging over Jeremy’s shoulder before tilting his head.

“You know, I used to be quite the delinquent. If I had known my past, I wouldn’t have let me in my house.”

Jeremy looked at him questioningly. Leo lifted a hand to sweep the fringe of his hair away from his eyes.

“Yeah, I used to do drugs, before I realized how stupid it was,” Leo’s tone was lightly conversational, “Then I got into a gang that was pretty notorious for its robberies.” He leaned against the back of the booth, fiddling with a packet of sugar, his blue eyes dancing everywhere except for Jeremy’s face, “You know, there was this one time we had a plan to rob a bank. Ever fantasize about robbing a bank?” Leo gave a short laugh, “Yeah, we had all the details down. I’d be the distracting the teller while Little Ritchie would sneak past her wearing latex gloves and hack into the bank vault’s computer system. Then Francis and Big Scott would come in with the ski masks and guns yelling freeze.”

Leo chanced a look at Jeremy’s face. Jeremy was unresponsive, a blank expression on his face as his eyes stayed on Leo’s face to indicate that he was listening.

“And then Little Ritchie would slip past unnoticed through the back. I’d pretend to be a customer. Ritchie was really good with computers—he’d make the 911 buttons under the teller’s desk not work either. The two would grab all the money and make a quick getaway.”

Leo dropped the sugar packet, “Of course, we never had the chance to put the plan through. Little Ritchie got shot in a gang fight the week before the plan was to be put in motion.”

Jeremy didn’t say anything, just watched Leo’s face flash through a series of expressions: sadness, frustration, anger, and then back to the neutrally cheerful expression that Leo always had on his face.

“I’ve got my fair share of scars,” Leo continued, gesturing to a faint scar along his bicep, “Got that one in a knife fight, but they at least managed to get me to the emergency room before I passed out from the loss of blood.” He smiled faintly—and in the dim light, it looked sad, “Guess it’s no surprise that my mom doesn’t want anything to do with me now, huh?”

Jeremy shifted slightly, looking at Leo without saying anything at first. Finally, Jeremy spoke, “Well, you’ve changed.”

“You think?” Leo’s smile was slightly strained, “Yeah I’ve changed. My English teacher senior year told me that I had to make something of myself or I’d turn out like my dad.” Leo’s grin was humorless, “Get wasted every night and not do shit with my life. Have two kids by a high school sweetheart and leave in the middle of the night.”

Another pause. Jeremy looked away at the furniture and the plants around them before looking back at Leo. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Leo looked up in surprised, “Don’t be. I’ve got a new goal in life, I’ve got the ability to finally make something out of it,” He grinned widely, “I’m glad for it.”

Jeremy smiled back, albeit a bit hesitantly, “It’s amazing how optimistic you are.”

“It’s amazing how you managed to get all of that out of me without getting me drunk,” Leo amended, laughing slightly, “You’ll still have to get me drunk if you want me to put out though.” He batted his eyelashes.

The tension was broken.

Jeremy smirked back, “Ten bucks on getting you to put out if I pay for dinner.”

“Yeah, maybe if I order a million bottles of wine and get drunk enough,” Leo’s grin was infectious—and for a moment Jeremy could never place the man that Leo had described with the same personality and charming smile of Leo’s character.

Jeremy’s eyebrow arched, and he grinned jokingly, “Do you prefer red wine or white?”

030. death
late november (post thanksgiving) 2002

Their first mission together had been simple—stay in this room in this run down apartment building until around four-o’clock when Tyler would bring the woman to the café across the street. All Leo had to do was point the sophisticated looking gun out the window and shoot.

It wasn’t that easy, Jeremy realized, because Leo had been pacing restlessly around the room for practically the entire day. He had chanced looks at the door; but Jeremy had been here to prevent him from leaving. This was training, the Boss had said, grinding his cigarette into the burn holes in his very expensive desk, Leo was a good shot naturally, so with training, he would be even better.

It was easy enough for Jeremy to just sit there with the latest copy of Scientific American, watching Leo pace around like a caged animal. It was easy enough for him because he didn’t have to kill anyone that day, didn’t have to face the inevitability of another murder.

In hindsight, he shouldn’t have invited Jeremy to New York over Thanksgiving break—but how was he supposed to know that the Boss had an unfilled assignment to be completed so soon? He had tilted his head back, saying that it was perfect for Leo who hadn’t had an assignment since he had last been in New York.

Leo finally seated himself underneath the window, staring blankly at the peeling turquoise paint on the walls, the stone tiles flaking into dust. Jeremy dropped his magazine, looking at his watch.

“You have—”

“An hour, thirty five minutes left, yes.”

Jeremy looked seriously at Leo, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t lie.”

Leo shook his head, looking surprisingly young in the pale light that filtered through the grimy windows, “I’m not.”

“It’s—”

“Just another death of a few billion people on earth, yes.”

Jeremy inhaled, wondering if he was inhaling asbestos from years and years ago among the dust particles that were so prevalent in here, “It’s just another assignment. You need the money.”

“A measly couple hundred bucks doesn’t exactly equate one life,” Leo muttered, picking at the latex gloves he was wearing, “I mean, what could have she possibly done to piss someone off to the extent where they hire someone to just take her out?”

Jeremy picked his magazine up again, his voice a dull monotone, “It’s not our place to ask these questions. In this world, you just follow the orders.” He paused, and added in a kinder tone, concern for Leo written across his entire face, “It’s easier that way for all of us.”

Leo watched the dust motes dance in the shafts of light coming in through the western windows and didn’t respond.

An hour passed by without event. Leo’s blue eyes kept darting towards the door that Jeremy was sitting before, and wondered how Jeremy could sweep aside his entire friendship with Leo to assume a distinctly cold professional air during a mission. Another five minutes crawled by as he thought about stealing the Scientific American from Jeremy’s hands.

A flash of déjà vu struck him—on a plane, the man sleeping next to him—

“It’s another twenty minutes, Leo,” Jeremy said quietly, breaking into Leo’s thoughts. Leo wordlessly put on the black mask he had gotten when he was still young, when he was still dangerous, when he could pack a punch that could knock someone out.

Now he was still dangerous—using a more lethal weapon that killed with a single bullet.

Leo concentrated on his own breathing, wondering how he could really be as calm outwardly as he was at this moment. Inside, he was going frantic, his eyes flicking to the door every so often. Jeremy looked stressed as he closed his magazine, waiting for the crucial moment.

“Scared?” Jeremy asked in a whisper, leaning forward.

“I’ve fought people who could fight back,” Leo replied in a tone that was more serene than he actually was as the picked up the rifle, “I think that a simple sniping mission is a bit easier than that.”

The Boss had probably killed deer with this rifle. It must have been some sort of fitting justice for him to have picked out this particular weapon.

Jeremy looked down at the sidestreet. They had to get out of here fast once Leo shot her. He had remembered to change his license plate.

Leo opened the window and took his position behind it. The gun rested against his shoulder as he peered down the barrel.

A black car drove up, and the man who Jeremy had conversed with—Tyler—stepped out of the car. He didn’t glance up at where they were, but he made sure to get out of the car on the opposite side of the woman. She spoke to him, her body shielding him with her back turned to where Leo stood poised with the gun.

She was blonde and attractive—someone that Leo would have no doubt hit on if he had just been walking through the streets. She might have been someone that Leo purposely knocked into on accident.

Leo’s finger on the trigger faltered momentarily. Jeremy had his hand on the door, ready to get them out of there. He had several possible routes traced out in his head. His gaze cut into Leo’s back.

Leo stiffened slightly as if Jeremy had dropped a hand on his shoulder and hissed at him to get on with it already. He steadied his aim, and pulled the trigger.

The muffler made the shot a muted explosion. Leo barely stun from the recoil.

It only took one shot and she fell against Tyler as if she had fainted. Only the blood slowly seeping out into her perfectly done wavy blonde hair was an indicator of her death.

Leo wondered if she had a loving boyfriend or husband, wondered if she had children.

Wondered what hers parents might think. Wondered what her funeral would be like—with all of her friends standing around her coffin. Wondered what she might have done if he hadn’t just ended her life.

Jeremy strode across the room in three steps, grabbed Leo by the shoulder and steered him away forcefully, taking the rifle in his own gloved hands, pushing him out the door and closing it quietly behind them. The only indication that anyone had been in that room were the footsteps in the dust of the stone tiles.

“Pull yourself together,” Jeremy snapped quietly as they practically flew down the stairs, shoes making muted thumps against the ground.

Leo breathed in deeply and his expression became lucid again—set into a serious determined gaze. Jeremy didn’t have time to look over his shoulder, just double checked the alley before unlocking the Jetta and slipping in. Leo was surprisingly efficient—Jeremy had been on missions with worse people. He was always the man who got the assassin to the place, and then once the mission had been accomplished, he was the one who always got them out.

Accelerating out of the alleyway, Jeremy made a smooth right turn onto the street before heading back in the direction of his apartment. Leo tried not to vomit in Jeremy’s car. He placed the rifle onto the back seat.

“You okay?” Jeremy finally asked. The wail of ambulance sirens could be heard coming towards them—the ambulance lights flashed into sight before fading away from the rearview mirror.

Leo didn’t trust himself to open his mouth—instead he nodded slightly.

The remainder of the short trip back to Jeremy’s apartment was in silence, and as soon as Jeremy unlocked the door, Leo flew past him into the bathroom, and he promptly emptied from his stomach what he had eaten for breakfast and lunch.

Jeremy bent down by him, rubbing his back gently, “It’s hardest the first few times.”

“You—” Leo struggled to retain what little he had left of his composure, as he lashed out in a calm anger, “You’ve never actually killed someone. You’ve never had to think about what could have happened if you hadn’t come along and—”

“You don’t think about those things,” Jeremy interrupted sternly, “You don’t think about those kinds of things because you do as you’re instructed. In this field, you can’t think about those kinds of things.”

“—if you hadn’t come along and just taken their life. You’ve never had to think of what their mothers and fathers and sisters and brother will undergo because of you. You never have to think about if they had children and who will care for this kids now because you came along and killed their parent—”

“Stop.”

Leo obeyed and closed his eyes, a single tear falling from the edges of his eyes.

Jeremy brushed it away with the pad of his thumb, his expression hard as he looked at Leo. What could he say? He had undergone this same exact process so many times—but never with someone that he had ever considered a friend. He couldn’t yell and hope that the senseless noise would stun Leo into understanding that he just couldn’t think about these things. Leo actually listened to what he said.

“It’ll be hard,” Jeremy’s tone was cold and authoritative, “But you have to condition yourself not to think about it. It gets easier as we go on.”

“Will you be there?” Leo asked, impulsively, blue eyes snapping open and looking into Jeremy’s own, “Will you be there every step along the way? Are you going to say all of this shit to me every time I fall down and every time I show any sort of sensitivity? Are you going to turn me into a cold calculating bastard?”

Jeremy wanted to scream, wanted to yell, it’s just a fucking life, one in a billion, one in a trillion, do you feel bad every time you kill a cow for your fucking steak? and instead what came out was a curt, “Yes.”

Leo’s smile was twisted, pretty face turning into something vindictive, and his voice was soft, “Good.”

make the snow fall

merlin fic: fragment

original; jereleo in general

original; beginnings, breakfast, dinner, death

drabble; piano