Re: Marvel: Rescuing the tiniest Alexander
[The malt liquor, the shitty chair, the kid in it a fucking ghost of shitty Christmas past,—all of it was like some memory being played out on light-bled tapes. They didn't come down here—or, Shane did, but he'd never been a user and he'd never fucking brought Joey or anyone else. Just odd jobs, shit to get a bike to get him the fuck out of Elizabeth.—Had. Hadn't. Whatever. His mind stuttered over the particulars, yeah? And it didn't matter. Shane scowled down at his brother, but like the hug to Sam, it wasn't cold. It had fondness, even if the dumbass didn't know who he was.
He let Sam lead the way closer. She squatted down and Shane squashed his cigarette out on ratty grass and cement in a smear of boot. Twenty years between them now, instead of two, and the man knew he looked fucking old to a kid Joey's age. He wiped at his nose with his sleeve. The fire played shadows across the youthful face turned up to him.] Welcome to 20-fucking-14, Cocoa.