|Harris Josiah Cook (onewayride) wrote in dalton_rpg,|
@ 2011-11-04 21:02:00
|Entry tags:||! thread, @ character: harrison cook, @ character: npc, status: complete|
Who: Andrew Parker (npc) & Harris Cook
When: Friday, November 4th, 2011; nighttime
Where: Outside a club in Lima
What: Harris doesn't take too kindly to people fucking with his kin (shh, he doesn't have a heart, what are you talking about?), this leads to fighting, obviously
Rating: NSFW for violence, language and talk of abuse/assault (trigger warning for sexual/physical/child abuse)
It had taken Harris longer than he’d wanted in order to track Andrew down and get a good grasp on the older boy’s habits, but he was confident in his knowledge by now. So, after finishing his shift at the gas station that night, he’d changed into something that was suitable enough to not draw attention at a club but still practical enough that it wouldn’t hinder him in the fight he was counting on. If there was one thing consistent in Andrew’s schedule, it was that the kid frequented the same clubs, and that he tended to go out every weekend - Fridays, especially, seemed to be normal for him. Harris might have admired the guy’s energy if he didn’t already hate him so much.
Refraining from drinking was a lot harder than he’d expected it to be, and Harris couldn’t keep from giving in and having a shot or two throughout the evening. They weren’t particularly strong in his system, though, by the time he was ready to leave. The alarm on his phone told him it was about time for his target to head out and he didn’t want to miss his chance. Harris excused himself from the company of the (desperate, excessively made-up, and bleached-blonde - but foxy nonetheless) woman he’d been allowing to fawn over him, slipping her his number before dropping the money for their drinks on the bar.
Slipping out the back exit, Harris flicked up the collar of his jacket when the cold, October air hit him, and lit up a cigarette, leaning against the back wall of the club as he waited.
Andrew was having the time of his life. Now that the brat had been carted off to a boarding school, he didn't have to deal with him. His schedule was as hectic as ever, and even though he was in college, Andrew's first priority was not getting good grades. Of course, he never had to worry about bad grades. He was the smart one in the family, the golden child. Addison was always the odd one out, the black sheep. It was exactly how Andrew liked it.
This particular night was no different than any other. He met some friends at a club and even though they left him hours ago, he still had a car and plenty of girls clamouring at him to go home with them. With a flirty wink, Andrew left the group of girls and walked to the exit of the club. He admittedly had a few drinks when he first got there, but by the time he left, he was sober enough to drive home. Stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets, he went through the back exit and headed towards his car.
Hearing the door open a few minutes later, Harris smirked to himself and took one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and crushing it under his heel. Pushing away from the wall, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and took a single step toward the retreating form of Addison’s older brother. “Hey,” he shouted, aiming to get Andrew’s attention, “Parker!” He didn’t sound particularly angry or intimidating, merely determined – and if his signature cockiness showed through? Well, there wasn’t much that Harris could do about that.
Andrew came to a halt, hearing someone shout out his last name. He turned and got a good look at the person. It was a blonde kid, probably around his own age. Andrew didn't recognize him though, from school or from his very large group of friends, so he stood at a distance as he answered.
"Do I know you?" A hint of arrogance peppered the tone of his voice, but it was only to be expected from someone like Andrew. He was arrogant and he was damn proud of that.
“No,” he replied easily enough, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the edge of the metal Zippo in his pocket. Closing more of the space between them until they were only a few steps apart, Harris added, “But I know you. You’ve got quite the reputation, it seems.” He wouldn’t bring Addison into this if he could avoid it – he wasn’t exactly looking to make things ever worse for his... friend, if you will.
Offering out a hand, the smug look on the blonde’s face only intensified. “Harris,” he offered, raising an eyebrow at the older boy.
"I am pretty popular," Andrew nodded. He wasn't exaggerating. Most people knew him and if they didn't personally know him, they at least knew his name. It wasn't surprising that this stranger would know who he is. When the blonde kid, who introduced himself as Harris, extended a hand to him, Andrew felt weary. Not that he was scared of the kid or anything. He just knew he had to be safe around these parts of town. Andrew kept his hands in his pocket, his eyes fixed on Harris' face.
"The name's Andrew. Can I help you with something?"
Indeed he was; Andrew’s self-proclaimed popularity had aided Harris quite a bit in tracking him down. Having grown up near Lima himself, Harris knew plenty of the right – or, wrong, he supposed – people; it hadn’t taken too much asking around to initially pinpoint Andrew. And now here they were, the moment he’d long been waiting for.
But it turned out that the kid was smarter than he looked, and Harris chuckled, letting his hand fall back to his side. Considering the other man for a moment, Harris stayed quiet before finally answering, “No, not exactly.” By not taking his hand, Andrew had left himself in a more difficult stance for his initial self-defence, and it wasn’t as if Harris really needed the grip on him to land the first punch... “Not so far as talking goes, anyway,” he clarified, closing the last of the space between them and quickly landing a swift punch to Andrew’s jaw; he didn’t wait for the other man to regain himself before throwing another.
Andrew was caught off-guard, not by the fact that Harris had hit him, but by the fact that he wasn't expecting him to hit him. Though the other teen got in the first shot, Andrew was quick to retaliate, blocking his face with his arm to protect himself, then kneeing Harris in the stomach. Breathing almost heavily, Andrew scrambled to his feet.
"What the hell is your problem, man?!" As far as Andrew knew, he had no idea why the kid would want to start shit with him.
As much as Harris wanted to pummel the guy, he was pleased to find that Andrew would put up a decent fight. It wasn’t half as fun when your victim just sat there sniffling and begging. Using all of his upper-body strength not to double-over, the blond lashed out with another punch, not even caring where it landed. “Give it a quick think, sweetheart,” he responded, trying not to sound as winded as the knee to his stomach had left him feeling, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of reasons to have someone on your case.”
Hooking his leg briefly behind Andrew’s leg, Harris managed to send him crashing back to the ground, not hesitating before landing a few kicks to his side. When he stumbled from the older boy’s retaliation, he was careful to land in a way that wouldn’t leave him too disadvantaged and scrambled to try and pin Andrew down.
Plenty of reasons? What the hell was this psycho talking about? Andrew's mind didn't have time to think of all the stupid shit he's done to warrant this, so he left it alone and focused on protecting himself and taking Harris down. The punch Harris threw didn't exactly connect, but the hook of the leg certainly did. Andrew fell to the ground, groaning when his back hit the cool, hard pavement. He noticed that Harris was attempting to pin him down, so he used his elbows to try and hit Harris in the face.
"What the hell are you talking about, freak?!" he shouted in mid tussle.
Less talking, more fighting. Seriously. God, why were the Parkers all so chatty? Not that the brothers were particularly comparable in any other aspect. “Shut up,” he spat, glaring as an elbow impacted with his nose. Pulling back, he hit Andrew clear across the face with his fist, his other hand working to try and gain control over at least one of the older boy’s flailing limbs. “Just believe me when I say you’ve had this coming,” he muttered, rearing back a little when Andrew lashed out again.
Andrew could feel blood from his nose starting to drip down to his lips, then to his chin. "Fuck," he swore under his breath, pissed that the kid actually hit him so hard he bled. He managed to barely wiggle out from underneath Harris, then attempted to reverse their positions, so he could at least be in control. When he managed to switch their positions, Andrew grabbed Harris' wrists, forcing them downwards so he could pin him. He was surprised that the blonde really knew what he was doing. They were pretty evenly matched when it came to strength and fighting ability.
What Andrew didn't know was that they weren't nearly as matched when it came to anger at that moment.
Harris all but laughed as Andrew flipped him onto his back – he knew that the other boy wrestled, just like he did, and the training definitely showed. Twisting his wrists, he gauged the tightness of Andrew’s grip as he bucked up a little, trying to throw his foe off-balance. He wondered just how similar a situation this was for Andrew, though he supposed it was a much smaller, more lithe form that he was used to having pinned beneath him. Just the thought sent a shudder down his spine and Harris brought his head up hard against Andrew’s jaw, wincing at the impact, but managing to pull one of his wrists free in the process. Reaching up, he clawed at the older boy’s back, trying to get a good enough grip to roll them over again.
Andrew grabbed his jaw after Harris headbutted it, letting go of his other wrist in the process. When he realized that that he just screwed things up for himself, he tumbled off of him. Knowing that he underestimated Harris at first, Andrew stumbled to his feet, slamming the toe of his shoe into Harris' side. At the same time, he was trying to think up an escape plan.
He wasn't too keen on dealing with Harris physically for much longer, though he still wanted to know why the heck this guy was so intent on knocking his teeth down his throat. Andrew was sure that he wasn't some jilted lover that had his girlfriend stolen from him, and other than being a girlfriend stealer, Andrew wasn't too much of a troublemaker...in his mind, at least.
“Idiot,” Harris muttered, smirking as he felt his other wrist come free. There wasn’t much time to use it to his advantage, though, as Andrew’s foot impacted with his side a second later, causing the younger teen to cough a few times as he pushed himself to his knees. Another kick sent him back off balance before he managed to push himself into a standing position, turning on Andrew as soon as he was steady again.
“That all you’ve got, punk?” he spat, rubbing away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and advancing on the older boy once again. “Don’t like it when people fight back?” he pressed, glaring as he reached for his opponent’s hand, wrapping his around his back as he held Andrew against his chest. He stayed that way for a long moment, his grip around Andrew’s wrist tightening before Harris roughly shoved him lose so that he smashed into the nearby chain-link fence.
Even with the amount of force Harris used, Andrew managed to press his hands against the chain-links to lighten the blow a bit. Though his face still slammed into the fence, it wasn't nearly as bad as it count have been. Andrew was about to fight back when Harris' words completely sunk in. He wasn't an idiot, he knew what, or who rather, Harris was referring to.
"You're one of Addison's friends, aren't you?" Andrew sneered and the very thought of his little brother having people to protect him made him sick. He also wondered just how much Harris knew. He thought he had done enough to scare Addison into silence.
As Andrew crashed into the fence and took a moment to steady himself, Harris shrugged out of his jacket and let it drop to the ground nearby; it left him better enabled to move around. “So, you do have some brain’s in that big head of yours,” Harris muttered, condescension and hatred thick in his voice, but, even to himself, the blond refused to admit to the way his skin crawled when Andrew spoke his brother’s name. “You really thought you’d get away with it forever, you sick fuck?” he asked, closing the gap between them again and forcing Andrew to turn and face him as he shoved him back against the fence, leaning into his space. “Huh?”
When Andrew was forced back against the fence and forced to look at Harris, he really got a good look at his face. The anger and disgust in his eyes made Andrew uncomfortable.
"Whatever the little brat told you, he's lying," he growled, his stare not faltering under Harris'. "He's fucked up in the head, and everyone knows it. You know it, I know it, everyone fucking knows it. He'll do or say anything to get some attention."
Without even thinking about it, Harris raised his hand, bringing the back of it down across Andrew’s face. Despite the determination in them, the belittlement and accusation in the older boy’s voice didn’t extend to his eyes, and Harris knew exactly why that was – and to say that he was disgusted? Yeah, it was an understatement. How anyone could hurt a kid like Addison and then deny it was beyond him. “You’re a fuckin’ liar,” he spat, leaning in to whisper in Andrew’s ear, “I’ve seen the shit you text him, Parker. So don’t fucking lie to me if you value your life.”
Andrew's eyes narrowed. So Addison did show him the texts, the little brat. "It was a joke," he murmured, trying to brush it off. He knew Harris wasn't going to buy that for a second, but if anything, it bought him a little bit more time to put off actually admitting anything.
Of course, he wouldn't do that, because he was innocent. Completely and totally innocent of any type of wrongdoing. Addison was the fucked up one in the family, not him.
“Some joke,” he muttered, pulling back enough to stare into Andrew’s eyes again. “You think the court would believe that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because, believe me, I know the system. Got a social worker and a lawyer on speed-dial, and, trust me,” he smirked, his gaze raking over the older boy’s form in a predatory manner, “A boy like you isn’t going to hold any power in a penitentiary.”
"One, Addison is a liar, I didn't do shit to him. And two, even if he wasn't a liar, no one would believe him," Andrew said with confidence. How could any system believe a weird, make-up wearing, hair-dyed freak like his brother over an athletic, smart, straight A student like himself?
"Do you really think I'm scared of you or him? I'm definitely not scared of him, he's a fuckin' girl. And I'm not afraid of your empty threats either. Neither of you have any proof, so don't act like you have some great, amazing case against me, because you don't," he snapped at Harris.
Andrew’s words drew a harsh laugh from Harris, who shoved him back against the fence again. “You are so full of shit,” he started, “Get over yourself and take a look at the world you live in.” Giving Andrew’s hair a sharp tug and pulling his head to the side, Harris continued, “One look at that kid’s face when he talks about you would leave no doubt in any judge or juries’ mind. You really wanna risk that?”
Tightening his grip, Harris reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a switchblade, fingering the handle as he debated opening it, “And you’re naive to think that you have no reason to fear me.” Smirking, he bit down on Andrew’s earlobe before asking, “You wanna know a difference between you and I?” Not waiting for a response, Harris continued, “I’m not afraid of getting thrown back in the slammer. A boy like you? Has a lot to lose. You really wanna risk it? Because if you lay so much as a finger on Ads again, my own might just slip over the forward button on those texts of yours.”
Andrew grimaced when Harris' teeth sank into his earlobe. He didn't dare try to pull away though, for fear of his ear being bitten off. "You're delusional," he managed to mutter, trying to ignore the pain in his ear.
"Addison's a freak. No one fuckin' cares about him. You might think you do, but you don't," Andrew's voice became lower. "The only reason you probably care is that you want to get in his pants. The system doesn't care about him, and most of all, I don't care about him," he sneered.
"I have nothing to worry about, he's not going to say anything to anyone. Go ahead, call the police, Addison's not going to say one bad word about me."
Andrew seemed extremely sure of himself.
“Maybe,” Harris purred, releasing Andrew’s ear from between his teeth, “But I’m not wrong.” Anger flashed in his eyes once again as the older boy continued, and the blond grabbed Andrew by the jaw, holding him steady as Harris stared him down. “Don’t try to tell me what I feel,” he demanded, his spine stiffening a little. “Just because all you see from him is an easy lay, it doesn’t mean you can speak for the rest of us.” Wetting his bottom lip, Harris finally let Andrew go completely and took a step back.
“You can only scare him into silence for so long, Andrew,” he growled, “And, you might not be ready to admit it, but that time is coming to an end. Soon. I don’t care what you say to him from here on in: you don’t have the power here anymore. So I’d watch my back if I were you.” Cracking his knuckles, he gave Andrew an ‘I dare you’ sort of look, “Because if you keep this up? The police will be the least of your worries.”
Once Harris released him, Andrew touched his ear to make sure it was all there. He could feel the slippery, wet sensation of blood, but at least it felt like it was still intact. "Like I said," Andrew started again, "I'm not scared of you. I'm not scared of you or your threats. You underestimate me."
A smirk graced Andrew's lips. He knew his next words would probably earn him a good punch in the face, but it would be worth it. He wanted to get into Harris' mind. "You know why he's such an easy lay? Because he always wanted it. Any time, any place, any where. And you know what the best part is? He'd do whatever I wanted him to do." The last sentence was growled with no remorse or guilt at all.
Forgetting about the unopened blade now caught in his fist, Harris threw another punch, growling as he heard a crack upon its impact with Andrew’s face. “And you call me delusional,” he spat, grabbing the older boy by the front of his shirt before he could slip to the ground. “Is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night?” he demanded, shaking the older boy as his fist came up again to land another punch across Andrew’s already blood-smeared face.
Andrew had no idea. Absolutely no idea. And why would he? What reason had he ever been given to experience the kind of fear that freezes you in place? That stops you from acting any way other than the way you know will let you survive? “Addison will never want you, Andrew,” Harris growled, his tone possessive, “And you will never deserve him.” Letting go of the older boy’s shirt, Harris finally stepped back, his gaze not leaving Andrew as he bent over to grab his jacket. “So fuck you, jackass. Fuck off and die.”
Andrew spit out some blood that was courtesy from the last couple of punches. His predication was correct, but he didn't care. He was almost happy that he could create such a rage in Harris that caused him to act like that. It was like a game to Andrew, and he absolutely loved it. He was so sure nothing would come of this that his mouth got the best of him.
"You know, he acts so innocent, but he's really not," Andrew continued, a look of arrogant glee crossing his blood-stained face. "He probably knows more about sex than most adults. Probably because he started at such a young age." The smirk on his lips never left his face. He ignored Harris' rage-filled words, because they didn't matter to him.
Harris had been prepared to walk away then – he really had – but Andrew seemed intent on keeping this going. It wasn’t only the accusations he was making, either; it was the principal behind it all. No child deserved that, no matter who they were. Harris had been lucky when he was younger – lucky enough to not be paralyzed by fear when such a situation had arisen – but he understood how Addison felt nonetheless, right down to how it felt to not be believed. And for Andrew to stand there and assert that Addison had wanted it, that someone that young could even comprehend what was happening enough to make that decision, enough to learn from it... it made his blood boil.
Taking a moment to calm himself, Harris looked down at his shaking hands before flicking the blade open. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he stated, his voice far steadier than was normal, “Addison is innocent. What’s been done to him – what you’ve done to him – doesn’t change that.” Watching the way the silver of his knife sparkled in the moonlight, his brow creased, “He’s stronger than you give him credit for, Andrew. He’s not as broken as you’ve let yourself think he is. I think me being here is proof enough of that.”
Forcing himself to look up again, he flicked the blade shut. “You deserve to be torn apart at your seams, Parker,” Harris muttered, “But not today. I’d rather watch you squirm a while longer, watch you keep an eye on the windows whenever you hear a siren, look over your shoulder whenever you’re out. Believe me when I say that you haven’t seen the last of me.”
Andrew just kept smirking. "Good to know. Tell Addison I said hi," he said, almost like he was daring Harris to.
"See ya," Andrew waved, finally starting to retreat back to his car. "I can't wait for the next time we see each other. Hopefully Addison is there with you." And with his final words, he unlocked his car with his keys and got in.
Harris was right. This wouldn't be the last time they'd see each other.
Setting his jaw, Harris watched as Andrew retreated. Like Hell he’d be bringing Addison with him next time – he wasn’t an idiot. His aim was to keep the two brothers apart as much as possible, thank you very much. Lighting up another cigarette, Harris waited until Andrew was long gone before returning to his own car and pulling out of the driveway. He had a two hour drive back to Westerville ahead of him, but he knew whose room he needed to stop by as soon as he got back to Dalton; he couldn’t let Addison deal with the fallout unprepared.