Title: The Rage and Love, The Story of my Life (Part I)
Character(s)/Pairing: (eventual) Person/Garza, Implied Colbert/Fick, Trombley/OFC, Espera, Wynn, Hasser
Type/Rating: Slash, PG, rating may change.
Summary: High school AU. Brad, Ray, and Trombley are all foster brothers. When a fight between the brother of Trombley's new girl breaks out, the families try to put the pieces together. In the process, Gabe and Ray get closer.
Notes: It really is a partial fic. I tried writing more, but I felt lazy sitting here, but I couldn't just let this sit. I read another AU where Brad and Nate adopt Ray, Walt, and James, and Gabe was Ray's best friend there, and my mind's been slowly eaten inside out by this pairing. I'm insane, I know. Please, comment and confirm or deny that I'm insane for writing this.
When Ray gets the call from James to pick him up, he is less than pleased.
The reason for this was that when James called, Ray had been out with his friends and having a hell of a good time for a Wednesday night. Chaffin had thrown a house party, and marvel of all marvels, he and his best friend, Walt, had been invited. The two were spending the night getting to know the loevly women of the cheerleading squad and were well on their way to getting shitfaced when he'd gotten the call. Normally, he'd tell James to shove it up his ass, but there'd been something in his voice that made him listen. His voice was unusually shaky, and the way he'd agreed to the insults thrown his way made Ray listen to his brother. That, combined with the fact that if his older brother, Brad, found out and something was wrong, he doubted he'd live to see his 18th birthday.
So there he was, heading to where James had told him he was, a less-than-pleased Walt in tow. The area of town James had found himself in was one where Ray would never expect him to go. It was the Mexican part of town, better known as the barrio. Ray usually tried to avoid this part of town, since many of its residents at school were very vocal about what would happen if they found a White boy in their part of town, and none of it sounded pretty. Now, as they made their way deeper into the barrio, Ray found himself worrying more and more, picturing more grotesque ways to find James.
"What if he's, like, covered in tar and feathers and shit?" Ray asked Walt, more in the vein of trying to break the silence than trying to scare anyone.
"Like the Revolutionary War?" Walt shot him an incredulous glance.
"Hell yeah, man. Think about it. We did it to the fucking British and shit. Don't you think someone would want us to know how it feels?"
"Ray, where the fuck would they find enough tar to actually do that?" Walt asked.
"Tar pits," he replied, shrugging.
"Except there aren't any tar pits in this state, I'm pretty sure," Walt told him.
"So I assume you've been looking if you can make that assumption," Ray shot back. "You're one sick motherfucker, Walt."
Walt tried to come back with his own insult when sight of a young man pacing back and forth in the disance cought Ray's eye. The shape was familiar, and Ray immediately realized it was James. The pickup truck cast James in a harsh glow, and as he turned around, Ray saw something he'd never thought he'd see in his face.
Fear.
As quick as James turned around, he was bolting, faster than Ray'd ever seen him move, and for the first time he knew why the track coaches were always hounding him at school. The thought was pushed out of his mind as a stream of expletives began pouring out of his mouth. He told Walt to watch the truck and jumped out, only hoping to catch James.
"HAROLD-DOUCHEBAG-JAMES-COCKSUCKING-TROM
James began walking back to him and Ray let out an internal sigh. As James came closer, Ray wrapped an arm around him, causing James to flinch. Frowning, Ray took a closer look. His left eye was puffy, and from the looks of things, a bruise was well under way to developing. Another one seemed to be forming along his collarbone, and he seemed to be favoring one leg a little more than necessary. "Fuck, James," he said in almost a whisper. "What the fuck happened to you?"
"Nothing. S-some fucking Spics caught me while I was walking from a friend's house. I-I won." His tone of voice and overall appearance did nothing to reassure Ray, but he left it alone. If the little shit doesn't want help, he wasn't going to give it.
"Let's get you home, Jimmy," he told him. James nodded, looking in that moment far younger than his fifteen years. As they entered Ray's truck, Walt looked like he was about to say something, when he saw James' appearance. He remained silent as James got into the truck, when he looked down. Walt's eyes widened as he pointed to James.
"Your leg's bleeding." James looked down and his eyes widened. He pulled the leg of his pants up to reveal a sluggishly bleeding bit wound. From the looks of it, it came from a rather large animal.
"What the fuck were you doing?" Ray demanded again, and James merely shrugged.
"Fucking dog bit me while I was running. I didn't know I was bleeding." He removed his shirt gingerly and wrapped it around the wound in question. More bruises and marks were on his torso, and Ray was getting pissed. There wasn't anything he could do to get James to tell him what was going on, though.
---
The next day, Ray was greeted by a cheery sun piercing his blinds, along with an equally pleasant hangover. He groaned and turned over. Last night had been a nightmare. Walt and Ray had come in first, and against their hopes, Ray and Trombley's surrogate father, Mike, had still been awake. He noticed immediately that the two were less than sober, and although he didn't yell, Ray could tell that he was in for it. He'd been in the middle of explaining what had happened when James walked in.
It was easy to forget that Mike Wynn was a retired marine. The man was so soft-spoken that Ray had often thought it might be easy to push him over, but never really tried, since Mike gave him enough room that he never really could complain. That, and his only biological son was currently in some weird-ass relationship with Brad threw any thought out of the window.
All of those misconceptions were thrown aside as he grabbed James and put him on the couch, immediately homing in on the various injuries he'd sustained that night. After having as much success as getting information from him as Ray had, Mike's attention returned to Ray and Walt.
"Walt, you live nearby, right?" Mike asked.
"Yes, sir."
"You might wanna start walking home, then. I need to talk to Ray for a minute."
Walt left with another quiet affirmation. To Mike's credit, he waited about a minute before he began speaking again. "James, where were you this evening?"
"The barrio," came his muffled reply.
Mike clicked his tongue. "The barrio. Did you tell anyone where you were going?"
"No, sir."
"I see. And Ray, what's the one thing I ask of you regarding James?" Mike asked. Ray gulped. The tall man's eyes were burning holes into his head with the intensity of his stare.
"Pretend to love the little psycho?" Ray supplied.
"Try again."
"Make sure I know where he is?"
"Bingo. Ray, did you know where he was before this happened?"
"No, sir."
"And why was that?"
Ray looked down and fought the story in his mind. "No excuse, sir." Any other explanation would probably make Mike even more pissed. He wasn't yelling, but his voice was higher, as if he was restraining himself.
"Damn straight, kid. You're grounded. The only thing you're allowed to do is go to school and debate team. No hanging out with friends, no movies, no mall. Not a damn thing unless I say it's ok." He turned his head. "Same goes for you, James."
"Yes, sir."
"If I find out you two disobey any of this, you can be damn sure I'll do more. Ray, get Nate. We're going to the hospital."
The four of them piled into Mike's SUV, James' leg making a special spot on Ray's lap. He groaned and flicked the wound, causing James to his in pain, but nothing was said when Mike looked from the front seat.
Nothing was seriously wrong with James, they found out. They gave him antibiotics to ensure no infection spread from the wound and pain killers, in case he needed them. They were also given a list of symptoms to look out for, in case of rabies. The inital tests came out negative, but they were given just to be safe.
It was 2 in the morning when they finally got home, which led to why Ray was in such a bad mood. To make matters worse, Nate had been on the phone the entire night with Brad, who was currently on Camp Pendleton. Brad was a Marine, and his command didn't think the situation warranted him leaving post. Instead, he momentarily spoke with Ray after hearing the news. Suffice it to say, Ray was contemplating the merit of bullet-proof jock straps.
Breakfast was quiet in the Wynn home that morning. Nate had already left to see some friends at the beach. He was currently taking classes at Dartmouth, and was only home for a week. He was trying to fit in as many get togethers as possible among his old friends. Mike was also trying to hurry through breakfast, already late for his own job. As he finished breakfast, he muttered something along the lines of getting James to school, but he couldn't be sure.
Just to be safe, he corralled James from his breakfast as Walt's knock sounded through the house, the both of them grabbing backpacks as they left.
---
Lunch was always a madhouse at James Ferrando Public High. Thousands of voices filled the cafeteria and courtyards as people came and went for lunch, spouting every genre known to man. Over here, a boy and a girl were in a heated argument as she revealed she was pregnant. There, two nerds discussed, with the fervor of Aristotle and Plato, the breast size of a coveted anime babe. Still others discussed the plans to hit a mark at school.
Usually Ray would ignore all of this as he tried to convince people that the pros of making a zero gravity muffin on the International Space Station outweighed the cons. His rant, however, was interrupted as a heated voice with a Hispanic accent broke out nearby.
"You have the fucking balls to touch my sister again after what we did to you last night, joto(1)?" Ray turned his head to see what the commotion was about. The owner of the voice in question currently had his back to him and was blocking his view. A freshman girl moved out of the way in indignation and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Leave him alone, Gabriel! We were only kissing. You know I wouldn't let him do anything else," she whined.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "What if he tried to hurt you?"
"I wouldn't hurt her!" a new voice shouted, and Ray couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind at the other's voice.
"Shut the fuck up! I was-" The Mexican was cut off as a fist connected with his face. He stumbled back a step, and in a flash he was on him. Ray joined the crowd as bloodlust took over, the girl trying to pull her brother off of what Ray assumed was her boyfriend. The two fell over, and Ray got a look at the other's leg.
The color drained from his face before he was running forward, helping and actually succeeding in pulling him from James. The three fell back, and in a rage, Ray began pummelling the surprised Mexican. Something cracked under his fist, but he didn't care. "You don't fucking touch my brother you understand you fucking sick fuck!? Huh!?" His question was punctuated by Ray knocking his skull into the concrete once or twice.
He was still swinging when security came and shisked them away.
--
"So, let me get this straight, Person. The Gunny told you to watch over Trombley and not do anything stupid, am I right?" Sergeant Brad Colbert was sitting with Ray and James on one side and the Mexican and his sister, whom Ray learned were Gabriel and Gloria Garza. The latter was indeed James' girlfriend.
"Yup."
"And, if your principal's right about what she said when she called the Gunny, who called me to pick you up, you decide to get into a fight with Gloria's brother. Does any part of that ring out as stupid to you?"
"He started it," James muttered.
"Fuck you, white boy!" Gabriel shouted, shooting daggers at James. "You hit me."
"Garza, not now!" Brad said, interrupting the argument before it could happen. "You're in just as much shit as Person and Trombley are. What in the world is wrong with you three? Your mom couldn't come, so Sergeant Espera's coming to pick you up in a minute. I called him when I found out it was you." Any argument Gabriel was going to give died on his lips.
"Why am I here, again?" Gloria asked, sounding annoyed by the whole situation. The principal, a critical woman, supplied the answer.
"Mr. Wynn and Ms. Garza had a teleconference with me before I allowed you in." She said this carefully, eyeing all four as if they were filth on the bottom of her heels. "They thought this matter could be settled at home, with Sergeants Colbert and Espera as chaperones. Having known both of them, and what they do, I was inclined to agree. Mr. Espera will follow Mr. Colbert with you two to his home. Frankly, I'm astonished at all four of you. Never has something like this occured with you as my students. I don't want a bad seed growing in this school."
--
The ride home was uncomfortable. Any time Ray tried speaking, Brad would shoot a glare at him. Once, he even told Ray he'd interrupted an important meeting over this bullshit and he had to acquire a G-Ride(2) to get them, which explained the car. Last Ray had checked he only had a motorcycle.
When they finally arrived, Brad led the way in, with Sergeant Espera and his family not far behind. They sat in Mike's living room, Brad and Espera flanking either side of the two groups hawkishly.
"Now, you four are going to explain, calmly, what the fuck is going on. If you don't, you definitely won't like us when we're done. Do I make myself clear?" Brad asked. The four nodded in unison but all remained silent. Brad sighed. "Alright. Gloria, since I know the least about you, and you seem to not have actually been involved, why don't you start?"
Gloria looked at Sergeant Espera, who nodded. She gave Brad a glare before starting. "James and I met a few weeks ago. We were in Algebra and he needed a tutor, so I helped him."
"Figures the White Man would go a Mexican for help instead of fixing his own damn problem."
"Tony!"
"Sorry, Brad," Espera shrugged. "Couldn't resist. Go on, Gloria."
She sighed and shook her head. "Anyway, I found out real quick he's a lot smarter than he lets on. He started doing bad in algebra just so I could talk to him."
"Laaaaaaaaaame," Ray drawled out.
"Shut up!" She cried out. "It was really sweet, I think, and he turned out to be sweet, too. So last week we started seeing each other. Last night, I asked him to come to my house to meet my family. They were a bit...surprised, but they accepted it."
"More like you freaked us out," Tony said. "Going out with the White Man, Gloria. That's just wrong."
"Anyway, after dinner, I walked James out to the bus stop, and we had our first kiss," she finished.
"That wasn't no fucking kiss. He had his hands all over you," Gabriel cut in finally. "You should have seen it, Tony. He might as well had his hand up her dress."
"First, I never want to hear about my sister in that context, ever. Second, did he?"
"No!" James shouted. "It was just a kiss! I swear! Next thing I know, he was all over me!" He pointed at Gabe.
"No one touches my sister, faggot! You got what you deserved!" Gabe shouted.
"Children. CHILDREN!" Brad shouted at them. He closed his eyes briefly in the silence, opening them as he spoke. "Now. We are going to refrain from bickering, arguing, shouting, name calling beyond what Tony or I do, fighting, or anything in between. Understand?" They nodded.
Brad smiled the creepiest smile Ray'd ever seen outside of Trombley. "Good. Who's next?"
"Well, we beat the shit out of this kid, me and some friends," Gabriel supplied. He fought us off a little, then ran like a little-"
"Language."
"-Creep," Gabe ammended. "Don't know what happened to him after that. We took Gloria home."
"And then?" Espera asked.
"I kept running," James said. "A dog started chasing me, so I ran faster. It caught up to me and bit me pretty bad. It wouldn't let go, so I punched the fucker until it did." He reached and rubbed his injured leg. "I hate dogs."
Ray fought the wave of disgust and jumped in. "I think that's when he called me and Walt. We went to pick him up and he didn't tell us any of this shit."
Brad nodded. "So you went to the hospital and patched him up. I know that part. Then what?"
"I saw James in class today and apologized for my brother being an idiot," Gloria said. "He said it was ok and it was probably him overreacting. Then we went to lucnh and he held my hand while we ate. That's when Gabe came and freaked out."
"And the rest is history," Espera finished. "I hope you know that all four of you are idiots. Especially you two." He pointed at James and Gabe. "You two need to get your hormones under fucking control. Gabe, Gloria's fifteen. She's gonna have boyfriends. As much as it pains me that it's a white boy, he hasn't done nothing bad to her. Cool the fuck off. James, you need to keep your emotions down. According to Gabe and Gloria, you threw the first punch both times. If I hear one more fucking thing about this shit, I'll guarantee Gloria won't be able to see you again."
"Ray, don't just jump into shit. Mike's already pissed at you," Brad said. "Watch over James, but don't jump to conclusions. You're supposed to be the better man here."
"That's what she said."
(1)Joto: (pronounced ho-toe) Spanish slang for faggot.
(2)G-Ride: Military slang for government vehicle. Military personnel, under certain conditions, can utilize government vehicles for official or emergency purposes. Not usually anything like HMMWVs, 5-tons, or MRAPs. G-Rides are most often civilian grade vehicles. Recruiters use them for their day-to-day jobs, and military personnel usually use these to transport other personnel from one place on post to another. Usually, a G-Ride is assigned to one or more person, who can use it to their discretion, as long as it doesn't interrupt the actions of the unit this person belongs to.
To be continued.
Character(s)/Pairing: (eventual) Person/Garza, Implied Colbert/Fick, Trombley/OFC, Espera, Wynn, Hasser
Type/Rating: Slash, PG, rating may change.
Summary: High school AU. Brad, Ray, and Trombley are all foster brothers. When a fight between the brother of Trombley's new girl breaks out, the families try to put the pieces together. In the process, Gabe and Ray get closer.
Notes: It really is a partial fic. I tried writing more, but I felt lazy sitting here, but I couldn't just let this sit. I read another AU where Brad and Nate adopt Ray, Walt, and James, and Gabe was Ray's best friend there, and my mind's been slowly eaten inside out by this pairing. I'm insane, I know. Please, comment and confirm or deny that I'm insane for writing this.
When Ray gets the call from James to pick him up, he is less than pleased.
The reason for this was that when James called, Ray had been out with his friends and having a hell of a good time for a Wednesday night. Chaffin had thrown a house party, and marvel of all marvels, he and his best friend, Walt, had been invited. The two were spending the night getting to know the loevly women of the cheerleading squad and were well on their way to getting shitfaced when he'd gotten the call. Normally, he'd tell James to shove it up his ass, but there'd been something in his voice that made him listen. His voice was unusually shaky, and the way he'd agreed to the insults thrown his way made Ray listen to his brother. That, combined with the fact that if his older brother, Brad, found out and something was wrong, he doubted he'd live to see his 18th birthday.
So there he was, heading to where James had told him he was, a less-than-pleased Walt in tow. The area of town James had found himself in was one where Ray would never expect him to go. It was the Mexican part of town, better known as the barrio. Ray usually tried to avoid this part of town, since many of its residents at school were very vocal about what would happen if they found a White boy in their part of town, and none of it sounded pretty. Now, as they made their way deeper into the barrio, Ray found himself worrying more and more, picturing more grotesque ways to find James.
"What if he's, like, covered in tar and feathers and shit?" Ray asked Walt, more in the vein of trying to break the silence than trying to scare anyone.
"Like the Revolutionary War?" Walt shot him an incredulous glance.
"Hell yeah, man. Think about it. We did it to the fucking British and shit. Don't you think someone would want us to know how it feels?"
"Ray, where the fuck would they find enough tar to actually do that?" Walt asked.
"Tar pits," he replied, shrugging.
"Except there aren't any tar pits in this state, I'm pretty sure," Walt told him.
"So I assume you've been looking if you can make that assumption," Ray shot back. "You're one sick motherfucker, Walt."
Walt tried to come back with his own insult when sight of a young man pacing back and forth in the disance cought Ray's eye. The shape was familiar, and Ray immediately realized it was James. The pickup truck cast James in a harsh glow, and as he turned around, Ray saw something he'd never thought he'd see in his face.
Fear.
As quick as James turned around, he was bolting, faster than Ray'd ever seen him move, and for the first time he knew why the track coaches were always hounding him at school. The thought was pushed out of his mind as a stream of expletives began pouring out of his mouth. He told Walt to watch the truck and jumped out, only hoping to catch James.
"HAROLD-DOUCHEBAG-JAMES-COCKSUCKING-TROM
James began walking back to him and Ray let out an internal sigh. As James came closer, Ray wrapped an arm around him, causing James to flinch. Frowning, Ray took a closer look. His left eye was puffy, and from the looks of things, a bruise was well under way to developing. Another one seemed to be forming along his collarbone, and he seemed to be favoring one leg a little more than necessary. "Fuck, James," he said in almost a whisper. "What the fuck happened to you?"
"Nothing. S-some fucking Spics caught me while I was walking from a friend's house. I-I won." His tone of voice and overall appearance did nothing to reassure Ray, but he left it alone. If the little shit doesn't want help, he wasn't going to give it.
"Let's get you home, Jimmy," he told him. James nodded, looking in that moment far younger than his fifteen years. As they entered Ray's truck, Walt looked like he was about to say something, when he saw James' appearance. He remained silent as James got into the truck, when he looked down. Walt's eyes widened as he pointed to James.
"Your leg's bleeding." James looked down and his eyes widened. He pulled the leg of his pants up to reveal a sluggishly bleeding bit wound. From the looks of it, it came from a rather large animal.
"What the fuck were you doing?" Ray demanded again, and James merely shrugged.
"Fucking dog bit me while I was running. I didn't know I was bleeding." He removed his shirt gingerly and wrapped it around the wound in question. More bruises and marks were on his torso, and Ray was getting pissed. There wasn't anything he could do to get James to tell him what was going on, though.
---
The next day, Ray was greeted by a cheery sun piercing his blinds, along with an equally pleasant hangover. He groaned and turned over. Last night had been a nightmare. Walt and Ray had come in first, and against their hopes, Ray and Trombley's surrogate father, Mike, had still been awake. He noticed immediately that the two were less than sober, and although he didn't yell, Ray could tell that he was in for it. He'd been in the middle of explaining what had happened when James walked in.
It was easy to forget that Mike Wynn was a retired marine. The man was so soft-spoken that Ray had often thought it might be easy to push him over, but never really tried, since Mike gave him enough room that he never really could complain. That, and his only biological son was currently in some weird-ass relationship with Brad threw any thought out of the window.
All of those misconceptions were thrown aside as he grabbed James and put him on the couch, immediately homing in on the various injuries he'd sustained that night. After having as much success as getting information from him as Ray had, Mike's attention returned to Ray and Walt.
"Walt, you live nearby, right?" Mike asked.
"Yes, sir."
"You might wanna start walking home, then. I need to talk to Ray for a minute."
Walt left with another quiet affirmation. To Mike's credit, he waited about a minute before he began speaking again. "James, where were you this evening?"
"The barrio," came his muffled reply.
Mike clicked his tongue. "The barrio. Did you tell anyone where you were going?"
"No, sir."
"I see. And Ray, what's the one thing I ask of you regarding James?" Mike asked. Ray gulped. The tall man's eyes were burning holes into his head with the intensity of his stare.
"Pretend to love the little psycho?" Ray supplied.
"Try again."
"Make sure I know where he is?"
"Bingo. Ray, did you know where he was before this happened?"
"No, sir."
"And why was that?"
Ray looked down and fought the story in his mind. "No excuse, sir." Any other explanation would probably make Mike even more pissed. He wasn't yelling, but his voice was higher, as if he was restraining himself.
"Damn straight, kid. You're grounded. The only thing you're allowed to do is go to school and debate team. No hanging out with friends, no movies, no mall. Not a damn thing unless I say it's ok." He turned his head. "Same goes for you, James."
"Yes, sir."
"If I find out you two disobey any of this, you can be damn sure I'll do more. Ray, get Nate. We're going to the hospital."
The four of them piled into Mike's SUV, James' leg making a special spot on Ray's lap. He groaned and flicked the wound, causing James to his in pain, but nothing was said when Mike looked from the front seat.
Nothing was seriously wrong with James, they found out. They gave him antibiotics to ensure no infection spread from the wound and pain killers, in case he needed them. They were also given a list of symptoms to look out for, in case of rabies. The inital tests came out negative, but they were given just to be safe.
It was 2 in the morning when they finally got home, which led to why Ray was in such a bad mood. To make matters worse, Nate had been on the phone the entire night with Brad, who was currently on Camp Pendleton. Brad was a Marine, and his command didn't think the situation warranted him leaving post. Instead, he momentarily spoke with Ray after hearing the news. Suffice it to say, Ray was contemplating the merit of bullet-proof jock straps.
Breakfast was quiet in the Wynn home that morning. Nate had already left to see some friends at the beach. He was currently taking classes at Dartmouth, and was only home for a week. He was trying to fit in as many get togethers as possible among his old friends. Mike was also trying to hurry through breakfast, already late for his own job. As he finished breakfast, he muttered something along the lines of getting James to school, but he couldn't be sure.
Just to be safe, he corralled James from his breakfast as Walt's knock sounded through the house, the both of them grabbing backpacks as they left.
---
Lunch was always a madhouse at James Ferrando Public High. Thousands of voices filled the cafeteria and courtyards as people came and went for lunch, spouting every genre known to man. Over here, a boy and a girl were in a heated argument as she revealed she was pregnant. There, two nerds discussed, with the fervor of Aristotle and Plato, the breast size of a coveted anime babe. Still others discussed the plans to hit a mark at school.
Usually Ray would ignore all of this as he tried to convince people that the pros of making a zero gravity muffin on the International Space Station outweighed the cons. His rant, however, was interrupted as a heated voice with a Hispanic accent broke out nearby.
"You have the fucking balls to touch my sister again after what we did to you last night, joto(1)?" Ray turned his head to see what the commotion was about. The owner of the voice in question currently had his back to him and was blocking his view. A freshman girl moved out of the way in indignation and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Leave him alone, Gabriel! We were only kissing. You know I wouldn't let him do anything else," she whined.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "What if he tried to hurt you?"
"I wouldn't hurt her!" a new voice shouted, and Ray couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind at the other's voice.
"Shut the fuck up! I was-" The Mexican was cut off as a fist connected with his face. He stumbled back a step, and in a flash he was on him. Ray joined the crowd as bloodlust took over, the girl trying to pull her brother off of what Ray assumed was her boyfriend. The two fell over, and Ray got a look at the other's leg.
The color drained from his face before he was running forward, helping and actually succeeding in pulling him from James. The three fell back, and in a rage, Ray began pummelling the surprised Mexican. Something cracked under his fist, but he didn't care. "You don't fucking touch my brother you understand you fucking sick fuck!? Huh!?" His question was punctuated by Ray knocking his skull into the concrete once or twice.
He was still swinging when security came and shisked them away.
--
"So, let me get this straight, Person. The Gunny told you to watch over Trombley and not do anything stupid, am I right?" Sergeant Brad Colbert was sitting with Ray and James on one side and the Mexican and his sister, whom Ray learned were Gabriel and Gloria Garza. The latter was indeed James' girlfriend.
"Yup."
"And, if your principal's right about what she said when she called the Gunny, who called me to pick you up, you decide to get into a fight with Gloria's brother. Does any part of that ring out as stupid to you?"
"He started it," James muttered.
"Fuck you, white boy!" Gabriel shouted, shooting daggers at James. "You hit me."
"Garza, not now!" Brad said, interrupting the argument before it could happen. "You're in just as much shit as Person and Trombley are. What in the world is wrong with you three? Your mom couldn't come, so Sergeant Espera's coming to pick you up in a minute. I called him when I found out it was you." Any argument Gabriel was going to give died on his lips.
"Why am I here, again?" Gloria asked, sounding annoyed by the whole situation. The principal, a critical woman, supplied the answer.
"Mr. Wynn and Ms. Garza had a teleconference with me before I allowed you in." She said this carefully, eyeing all four as if they were filth on the bottom of her heels. "They thought this matter could be settled at home, with Sergeants Colbert and Espera as chaperones. Having known both of them, and what they do, I was inclined to agree. Mr. Espera will follow Mr. Colbert with you two to his home. Frankly, I'm astonished at all four of you. Never has something like this occured with you as my students. I don't want a bad seed growing in this school."
--
The ride home was uncomfortable. Any time Ray tried speaking, Brad would shoot a glare at him. Once, he even told Ray he'd interrupted an important meeting over this bullshit and he had to acquire a G-Ride(2) to get them, which explained the car. Last Ray had checked he only had a motorcycle.
When they finally arrived, Brad led the way in, with Sergeant Espera and his family not far behind. They sat in Mike's living room, Brad and Espera flanking either side of the two groups hawkishly.
"Now, you four are going to explain, calmly, what the fuck is going on. If you don't, you definitely won't like us when we're done. Do I make myself clear?" Brad asked. The four nodded in unison but all remained silent. Brad sighed. "Alright. Gloria, since I know the least about you, and you seem to not have actually been involved, why don't you start?"
Gloria looked at Sergeant Espera, who nodded. She gave Brad a glare before starting. "James and I met a few weeks ago. We were in Algebra and he needed a tutor, so I helped him."
"Figures the White Man would go a Mexican for help instead of fixing his own damn problem."
"Tony!"
"Sorry, Brad," Espera shrugged. "Couldn't resist. Go on, Gloria."
She sighed and shook her head. "Anyway, I found out real quick he's a lot smarter than he lets on. He started doing bad in algebra just so I could talk to him."
"Laaaaaaaaaame," Ray drawled out.
"Shut up!" She cried out. "It was really sweet, I think, and he turned out to be sweet, too. So last week we started seeing each other. Last night, I asked him to come to my house to meet my family. They were a bit...surprised, but they accepted it."
"More like you freaked us out," Tony said. "Going out with the White Man, Gloria. That's just wrong."
"Anyway, after dinner, I walked James out to the bus stop, and we had our first kiss," she finished.
"That wasn't no fucking kiss. He had his hands all over you," Gabriel cut in finally. "You should have seen it, Tony. He might as well had his hand up her dress."
"First, I never want to hear about my sister in that context, ever. Second, did he?"
"No!" James shouted. "It was just a kiss! I swear! Next thing I know, he was all over me!" He pointed at Gabe.
"No one touches my sister, faggot! You got what you deserved!" Gabe shouted.
"Children. CHILDREN!" Brad shouted at them. He closed his eyes briefly in the silence, opening them as he spoke. "Now. We are going to refrain from bickering, arguing, shouting, name calling beyond what Tony or I do, fighting, or anything in between. Understand?" They nodded.
Brad smiled the creepiest smile Ray'd ever seen outside of Trombley. "Good. Who's next?"
"Well, we beat the shit out of this kid, me and some friends," Gabriel supplied. He fought us off a little, then ran like a little-"
"Language."
"-Creep," Gabe ammended. "Don't know what happened to him after that. We took Gloria home."
"And then?" Espera asked.
"I kept running," James said. "A dog started chasing me, so I ran faster. It caught up to me and bit me pretty bad. It wouldn't let go, so I punched the fucker until it did." He reached and rubbed his injured leg. "I hate dogs."
Ray fought the wave of disgust and jumped in. "I think that's when he called me and Walt. We went to pick him up and he didn't tell us any of this shit."
Brad nodded. "So you went to the hospital and patched him up. I know that part. Then what?"
"I saw James in class today and apologized for my brother being an idiot," Gloria said. "He said it was ok and it was probably him overreacting. Then we went to lucnh and he held my hand while we ate. That's when Gabe came and freaked out."
"And the rest is history," Espera finished. "I hope you know that all four of you are idiots. Especially you two." He pointed at James and Gabe. "You two need to get your hormones under fucking control. Gabe, Gloria's fifteen. She's gonna have boyfriends. As much as it pains me that it's a white boy, he hasn't done nothing bad to her. Cool the fuck off. James, you need to keep your emotions down. According to Gabe and Gloria, you threw the first punch both times. If I hear one more fucking thing about this shit, I'll guarantee Gloria won't be able to see you again."
"Ray, don't just jump into shit. Mike's already pissed at you," Brad said. "Watch over James, but don't jump to conclusions. You're supposed to be the better man here."
"That's what she said."
(1)Joto: (pronounced ho-toe) Spanish slang for faggot.
(2)G-Ride: Military slang for government vehicle. Military personnel, under certain conditions, can utilize government vehicles for official or emergency purposes. Not usually anything like HMMWVs, 5-tons, or MRAPs. G-Rides are most often civilian grade vehicles. Recruiters use them for their day-to-day jobs, and military personnel usually use these to transport other personnel from one place on post to another. Usually, a G-Ride is assigned to one or more person, who can use it to their discretion, as long as it doesn't interrupt the actions of the unit this person belongs to.
To be continued.