CPT. WOODS // D8 FIN

( captain. mckenley woods )

"Oh--, you don't want to mess with Stocks, he's like, killed people."

"'Dude, 'Dear, who hasn't kill people- fuckin' idiot," Axton would say, legs swaying off the couch's arm. Scott keeps his eyes on the way the loose leather fabric flaps. 

"Aye, don't be mean to 'Dear just 'cause he's an idiot," Captain hits his teeth on the cork end of a white russian. 

"AYE YEAH, HE CAN'T HELP IT!"

His eyes tear up as he flinches down a swig, "besides, what's he gonna do, kill all of us," he yells down to the group on the floor beneath him. Cheeks in palms with knees on thighs and they're all having their own take talking shit. They always do, all talk, no bite; that's the whole point They don't want to kill, they aren't even a real gang, it's just the fear that keeps the name alive. It's nine boys in a warehouse and in their eyes it's a family-

to the peacekeepers, it's just another gang. 

Another middle district ruffian group, they don't see the love in it. The way 'Dear can't eat his cereal because he's smiling too hard, "yeah yeah, but I bet you he'd shoot your kneecaps out!" And Captain's just that face, and he does it because he cares, y'know? Aytac gets his two sense in, "you say that now, but buddy the second that trigger pulls I'm fuckin' out of there," he holds his hand to his chest, "who's getting shot?! Not me, oh no sir," he's gotten shot one time too many. Just being a dumbass, they've gotten their fair share of gunpowder, mostly for just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

It's not the end of the world, nobody's gonna kill any of em - they're looked at like rabbits more than anything. Just something annoying, namely Captain. He keeps his name in people's mouth, and he's more than happy to- to die for these boys. They've all lived in Sinatra's warehouse together for so long it's hard not to be attached. There's Why, Aytac, Axton, 'Dear, and then himself, and Sinatra, of course, and Sinatra's nephew who comes around every so often, he's just another brother. 

The smart die young, the dumb could live through a bombing. 

"Oh, you just gonna out run a bullet-?"

"Oh, you fuckin' haven't?"

If there's anything to say about Captain, at least he isn't scared. The smartest one in this room, yeah, but that's not too stiff a competition. He straightens his socks while they talk, "no, no, but Cap, seriously, we don't want to mess with Stocks, do you know how fast that man would come here if he knew-"

"yeah, yeah,"

He rolled his eyes. "He's just another eighteen year old with a gun;"

"you know, I bet you he's got people to volunteer for him, he has rich boy money!"

"That's 'cause his dad smuggles crack money from two,"

"oh not even, he's a graverobber,"

"Yeah, and so what, are we supposed to be scared of him because he's got two damn dimes to scrap together?" That's something Captain learned young, the games aren't the only place you're likely to get knifed to death by another eighteen year old. These kids are everywhere, Why's met them in seven, Aytac's survived bar fights in nine - and they're even younger than he is! Ludo comes around every so often and talks about the kids around this country that are wasting away in the detention center, and some of them don't deserve to be there, sure, 

but some of those kids? Monsters, fuckin evil, it's insane how fast kids his age snap under the pressure. "That's why we gotta fuck with him! I mean," he moves his hands as he talks, climbing from the ledge to the floor below, "we get him scared of us, we're practically immune from every rat dude in this district." And they groaned at it, mostly 'cause they knew Captain would do it regardless. 

"Why! Why would we do that, ever!"

"Hey, Axton- shut the hell up,"

"Well, true, but he's not wrong?"

He chewed his lip for a second, contemplating his plans. "Look, boys and theydy, I know it's not a good plan, but it's not like Hope's gonna get off his ass and help us, or Sinatra for that matter," they worked their hardest to make life easy together. To do what's best for the Haus, the brothers; his family, "if we're gonna do this, we've got to commit- and we're already in it boys! So look alive!" 

"As alive as it gets," Axton says between his teeth, a sour grin. 

"Fuckin cheers to that, bro," 

He should have planned it out a bit more confidently- solidify something. Something a bit more methodical, but Captain didn't have the time, not when Stocks knew damn well where his guns went. Contraband like that doesn't just go A.W.O.L.; even Sinatra would ring him by the neck if he knew. Mistakes like that got people killed, got family killed, he went back to the chew of his bottom lip as the rest of them went back to talking. 

It's easier to think that way, to let them talk their way through every hole in the thicket. Maybe one of them would say something smart, Captain didn't hold too much hope in it but he made his ways back up the ramp and let his legs dangle. It's all in the presentation, that's something he learned more and more every day - the face, the facade. They all wanted to play badass, but nobody wanted to commit but him; even that's a stretch. It sat in the pit of his stomach and the bags under his eyes, he was stressed but for a good cause, which makes it worth it, right? 

He took up the leader role. Comparing himself to Stocks made him realize every short coming he had, they weren't scared of him. Not Stocks, at least, and neither were any of the other faces on the streets, and if these boys wanted to last they had to make a name out of it. And hell, the half of them don't even have last names now, not ones that mattered to anyone. If Stocks was a coil in a gun, one decision from pulling a trigger, than Captain was just string in a fuckin candy bead necklace. 

"So anyways, here I am sitting with two pit bulls on my lap, and then Ludo of all people is like 'bro, did you steal those?'

And I'm like no no bro! I bought them! But-"

"Was he talkin' bout the lasagna?"

"He was dude! He was talkin' about the fuckin' food!"

Lord fucking help me, he rubbed his temples. Captain crossed his legs and picked up the chalk again, ("THE LASAGNA-?") and continued planning to himself. Aytac and Marshal screaming about whatever and it hurts his brain to try and think while they talk. "Yeah, dude, the lasagna!" Captain's already thrown his name in the bowl in every way, dipping his toes in waters too deep to trek alone. 

They don't need to help- they just need to stop distracting him. 

Stocks knows a boy exists and that's enough to know there's a hit list that exists with his name somewhere on it. "So anyways, do y'all know who the Fenwicks are? Ludo's been talking about them."

"Probably just another gang," all Ludo does it talk. 

Captain presses the chalk to his forehead. 

All they ever do is talk.