(In this shapeshifting AU, takes place during and after the second film.)
...
It’s mid-morning when Shondra’s oldest Calvin calls Constance to ask, “Auntie, where’s Rome?”
“He should be at that trailer of his,” Constance says, setting down her lemonade.
“Auntie,” Calvin says, “It’s faint but – I smell Brian O’Connor. He was here.”
“Brian O’Connor,” Constance murmurs. “And now Rome’s gone.” She sighs heavily. “Come on back to the den,” she orders.
.
There were years before Brian O’Connor. Her other children had friends that never became pack, but from the beginning, there was something different about Rome, about he acted around Brian.
In the beginning, she could have forbidden Rome from staying friends with the cub, and Rome’s older brothers would have enforced it at school. But Rome was so wild, always looking away from the pack, and even while Brian encouraged him, he also made sure Rome was safe, whatever they did. And while she loved Rome, she had other things to worry about.
So she let it go, and she let it go, and when Brian and Rome were twelve, the first time a policeman (a wolf in her territory, his scent on her son) drives them home, she sat them both down on the couch and stared, letting her disappointment and her embarrassment show.
She was not Brian’s alpha, then. And even then, she knew she never would be. Perhaps, because he’s a cat, he doesn’t need or want one, she still doesn’t know. But until that day at school, when a little boy with blond curls got in-between her baby boy and three wolf cubs, Constance had been her youngest child’s alpha. She will always be his mother – but his alpha, maybe not.
And so she sat Brian O’Connor down beside her baby, and she said, “There are good alphas and there are bad alphas.” She likes to think she’s a good alpha; she knows her uncle wasn’t, so when she was twenty-seven, she challenged him under the old law. Few had believed her serious until she had his throat in her jaw, until she executed him for crimes against the pack.
There were years before Brian O’Connor, and there were years after him, when Rome was locked away. Brian tried keeping in contact but it hurt too much. She never formally exiled him but she told him he couldn’t hang around, and once he’d left, asked him to stop calling.
She knew then and she knows now that it wasn’t Brian’s fault Rome got caught. That he was even in the position, though… they encouraged each other, covered for each other, challenged each other. Two years in juvie should’ve taught them.
A mere month before Rome’s release, Constance saw Brian O’Connor on the news, the subject of a manhunt for numerous crimes. The next day, three FBI agents came into her territory to ask what she knew about Brian. The lone wolf among them tried intimidating her, snarling the questions, looming over her. The human agents let him.
Constance just grinned up at him, leaning back comfortably in her chair. “I haven’t seen the O’Connor boy in five years,” she drawled. “Not since I told him to move out of my territory. I haven’t heard from him either. He’s not welcome here.”
“If you do hear from him,” the wolf growled, “call us.”
As they all stalked out, Darren, her oldest boy, her heir, asked, “Mama, what was that about?”
She’d shushed him, waited until the sound of the FBI’s engine faded. “Spread the word,” she ordered. “If Brian O’Connor comes by, give him whatever help he needs.”
“I’ll let everyone know,” Darren said.
But Brian never did come by. Rome was released, but no one would mention Brian to him until he asked, and he only asked the once.
She’d hoped that Rome would keep out of trouble, get the anklet off, find a way to be happy. He was her youngest, her baby boy. She’d hoped…
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1/2: Fast&Furious movies, AU, gen
Date: 2015-06-12 01:41 am (UTC)(In this shapeshifting AU, takes place during and after the second film.)
...
It’s mid-morning when Shondra’s oldest Calvin calls Constance to ask, “Auntie, where’s Rome?”
“He should be at that trailer of his,” Constance says, setting down her lemonade.
“Auntie,” Calvin says, “It’s faint but – I smell Brian O’Connor. He was here.”
“Brian O’Connor,” Constance murmurs. “And now Rome’s gone.” She sighs heavily. “Come on back to the den,” she orders.
.
There were years before Brian O’Connor. Her other children had friends that never became pack, but from the beginning, there was something different about Rome, about he acted around Brian.
In the beginning, she could have forbidden Rome from staying friends with the cub, and Rome’s older brothers would have enforced it at school. But Rome was so wild, always looking away from the pack, and even while Brian encouraged him, he also made sure Rome was safe, whatever they did. And while she loved Rome, she had other things to worry about.
So she let it go, and she let it go, and when Brian and Rome were twelve, the first time a policeman (a wolf in her territory, his scent on her son) drives them home, she sat them both down on the couch and stared, letting her disappointment and her embarrassment show.
She was not Brian’s alpha, then. And even then, she knew she never would be. Perhaps, because he’s a cat, he doesn’t need or want one, she still doesn’t know. But until that day at school, when a little boy with blond curls got in-between her baby boy and three wolf cubs, Constance had been her youngest child’s alpha. She will always be his mother – but his alpha, maybe not.
And so she sat Brian O’Connor down beside her baby, and she said, “There are good alphas and there are bad alphas.” She likes to think she’s a good alpha; she knows her uncle wasn’t, so when she was twenty-seven, she challenged him under the old law. Few had believed her serious until she had his throat in her jaw, until she executed him for crimes against the pack.
There were years before Brian O’Connor, and there were years after him, when Rome was locked away. Brian tried keeping in contact but it hurt too much. She never formally exiled him but she told him he couldn’t hang around, and once he’d left, asked him to stop calling.
She knew then and she knows now that it wasn’t Brian’s fault Rome got caught. That he was even in the position, though… they encouraged each other, covered for each other, challenged each other. Two years in juvie should’ve taught them.
A mere month before Rome’s release, Constance saw Brian O’Connor on the news, the subject of a manhunt for numerous crimes. The next day, three FBI agents came into her territory to ask what she knew about Brian. The lone wolf among them tried intimidating her, snarling the questions, looming over her. The human agents let him.
Constance just grinned up at him, leaning back comfortably in her chair. “I haven’t seen the O’Connor boy in five years,” she drawled. “Not since I told him to move out of my territory. I haven’t heard from him either. He’s not welcome here.”
“If you do hear from him,” the wolf growled, “call us.”
As they all stalked out, Darren, her oldest boy, her heir, asked, “Mama, what was that about?”
She’d shushed him, waited until the sound of the FBI’s engine faded. “Spread the word,” she ordered. “If Brian O’Connor comes by, give him whatever help he needs.”
“I’ll let everyone know,” Darren said.
But Brian never did come by. Rome was released, but no one would mention Brian to him until he asked, and he only asked the once.
She’d hoped that Rome would keep out of trouble, get the anklet off, find a way to be happy. He was her youngest, her baby boy. She’d hoped…
.