CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"What the fuck?" Myers gasps, as his head collides with the brickwork after my fist meets his face, blood trickling from his nose.

My head is still pounding but the rush of it all is enough for me to ignore the pain and lay some more heavy blows into his ribs as he struggles to overcome his surprise and attempt to fight back. But my early advantage is enough for me to get the upper hand and successfully pin him against the wall with one arm, drawing my blade from my back pocket with the other hand. It's quiet enough round here. There's no witnesses, no one around to help him out this time and no one's going to care about breaking up one more fight between a couple of hoods like us.

Despite all this though, he still puts on a front, like he ain't bothered by what I might do. Don't stop me noticing the slow, careful way he frames his response though, or the forced laugh he tacks onto his words.

"Guess you really are stupider than you look, Shepard, thinking something as idiotic as this will do you any favours. Didn't exactly work for you last time, did it?"

What he don't get is that this isn't gonna go the same way as back in sixty-five; that I won't let him get the better of me twice. That was different, hell I was different, too much has happened since then. Now it's me in control, and I ain't planning to let that advantage slip through my fingers again.

"Yeah?"

I shove him back against the wall with my arm, his head slamming into it a second time as I press the knife through the fabric of his shirt, under his ribcage. It would be real easy to do this, would only take a slight change of angle and a little more pressure on the hilt. It's a decent blade, well balanced and familiar as it sits so comfortably in my hand; would make it so damn easy to finish this right now.

"You ain't got the fucking nerve, Shepard."

"You sure about that?" I shift the switch some, just a little deeper, breaking his skin, feel the warmth of blood as seeps onto my knuckles, before I move again, press my forearm a little harder across his throat as I laugh at him. "I know your contacts got friends in Big Mac, Wayne. Any of them ever fill you in on the rumours over what went down with me while I was up there?"

Myers nods ever so slightly, his breathing shallow and his eyes still straining downwards to catch a glimpse of the knife.

It would be so, so simple to finish this, forever. To never have to see this asshole again, listen to his whining excuses, his threats. A couple of seconds is all it would take, just need to put my whole weight behind the blade, make it more than a superficial cut.

No one would know it was me. Not for sure. Ain't no way I'm the only one with a grudge against him. It's so damn quiet here, the sole sound his ragged breathing as he fights to remain calm.

It was one thing doing what I did by accident; another actually planning it, wanting it, let alone the prospect of living with even more blood on my conscience afterwards. And God, Leigh might not blame me for something I didn't set out to do - but forgiving me for something I chose to do, planned and carried out in cold blood?

Even if he deserves this. Which he does. No way he'd be thinking twice if our roles were reversed. I'd be down there bleeding out in the gutter already.

But I ain't him. I'm better than him. Least she seems to believe I am - and that has to be worth something, don't it?

A car drives by, footsteps echo on the sidewalk barely yards away from us. Take a quick glimpse that way, but nobody stops. None of them even so much as glances this way. Some bunch of girls not much older than Angela; too busy talking and laughing, plans for their Friday night on their minds; oblivious to me, to Myers.

Tightening my grip I can't help but look down. I know I shouldn't, but I can't stop myself, catch a sight of his blood soaking a little further through his shirt, down my hand, onto my clothes and it's like I'm back there again, my head filled with the noise and commotion of McAlester.

Try to pull myself together. I have to do this; can't spend every single day watching, waiting for him to come after me, to do something to harm Leigh.

"Then you know that I've done this before and got away with it. So if you go near Leigh, my sister, hell anyone I know, if you even so much as look at them wrong, then what do you suppose is gonna stop me from doing it again? Then when I've done with you, maybe I'll go find that jerk brother of yours too? Few things I'd like to set straight with him, as well."

"Fuck's sake, Shepard, surely we can sort something out, talk this through?" Myers asks, his voice strained as he struggles to keep calm.

"I don't know, you didn't seem so keen earlier. Reckon you should have taken that offer I made you a bit more serious, don't you?"

Guess it's now or never; decision time.

Press my shoulder in his chest and adjust my grip on the switch. If I'm gonna do this I might as well make it quick, clean.

xxxxxx

With a start I realise it's dark, the sun long set and the only light the dim glow of the street lamps. Reaching for a cigarette I'm met only with an empty carton, seems I've already smoked my way through the whole damn pack. Guess I must have been sitting out here for fucking hours - not the ten minutes it feels like - just thinking it all over, replaying it in my head, torturing myself with whether I've done the right thing or only screwed it all up even further. It's long since the time I should have been meeting Leigh. Wonder if she's worrying where in hell I am; if she's real mad at me, or just disappointed that I've let her down, again.

Push myself to my feet, head back towards the car. Guess I should get out of here, go home. Can't go to Leigh looking this much of a mess, Myers' blood on my clothes, traces of it still on my hands. Only it seems I can't help myself because I don't take the turning towards home, find myself parking up by her place instead, hoping she's here. Stride quickly up the stairs and turn the handle on the door a mix of relief and panic as it swings easily open. She looks up, startled, from where she's sat at the kitchen table, still wearing her diner uniform, an untouched cup of coffee in front of her.

I stand awkwardly in the doorway, jam my hands back in my pockets as I try to force a smile onto my face. "Thought you were gonna keep this locked, after all that's been happening. You should—"

Don't get to finish though, 'cause she's here, throwing her arms around me, holding me so damn tight I can barely breathe, her lips on mine as she alternates between kissing me and throwing questions at me. "Jesus, Tim. Where in hell have you been? You seemed so preoccupied on the phone earlier, then I waited for you for ages. Tried calling your house but no one answered; thought about trying to get Nick, or ringing the hospital, I didn't know what to do. God I was so scared something had happened to you." She steps back a little, pushes the door shut then takes a proper look at me, her eyes flicking from my dirty clothes, back to my face. "So what's wrong, what's happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I mutter. Can't seem to find no other words, to stop my mind from going over and over it all, so I just stand here, keep my hands in my pockets while she continues to stare at me, like she's hoping to read my mind or something.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? You don't look so great, d'you think you're coming down with something? You still got that headache?" She reaches out, gently presses her hand to my forehead.

"Yeah, it's still there, but I ain't sick, least not how you mean." Only thing I am sick of is how hard everything is, how nothing ever seems to end well for me, no matter what I do.

"So where were you? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Sink down onto the worn old couch, rest my head in my hands as she settles next to me.

"I don't know how to do this anymore, Leigh. All I'm ever gonna be is some lousy ex-con who ain't good for anything. Thought I could be different, only everything I do always seems to go bad." I feel on the point of losing it, can't bring myself to even look at her. "I'm just so tired of it all. Everything seems so fucking pointless. Hell, you seen my brother lately? Kid seems to think he needs to be exactly how I was to get anywhere, all his plans and schemes and Angela ain't far behind him, staying out half the night and getting herself in more trouble than I care to think about. Ma's so out if it now I don't know that she even realises who I am half the time. Nothing ever gets any better, no matter what I do."

"No you make a difference for them. Anyone can see how much they need you Tim, can you not see how much worse it would be if you weren't around, taking care of them all?"

"But that ain't the half of it, Leigh. All this shit with Myers, I was a damn fool to get caught up in it again, let myself think it was ever worth trying to get even with him. Should have realised before what mattered and left it all well alone. Only I couldn't could I? Had to go thinking I was smarter than him, that it would actually change anything. So all I've succeeded in doing is make things a hundred times worse, drag you into it with me. Hell, don't take a genius to know you'd be a damn sight better off without me around."

"No, that's not true, and we can work things out, there has to be a way to make things better," she insists, shifting closer to me.

"Think it's too late for that." Wish I hadn't smoked so much earlier, could do with a cigarette about now. Or maybe a drink, anything to take the edge off, calm my nerves some and shut out all the shit that's going round and round non-stop in my head.

"What do you mean?"

"I went searching for Myers earlier, thought if we talked it out I could come up with some way to settle things, make some kind of peace between us. But he wasn't interested in a word I had to say. Then when I saw him again, a few minutes later, I was so fucking angry I could barely think straight, just seemed so obvious, the idea I could take him out, end it for good."

She rests a hand on mine, makes me look up at her as she asks me, "End it how, exactly?"

"Damn it, Leigh, you know what I'm saying, take him out the picture, like I did to that guy in McAlester."

"Shit, Tim." Her eyes are wide, her voice not much more than a whisper as she struggles to form another question. "But you didn't though, did you? You didn't actually...?"

...adjust my grip on the switch and I'm about to do this when it hits me I can't do it. That I'm not actually prepared to go back on the promises I made, risk going to jail all over again...

Shake my head. "No. Came real close, but no."

A look of relief washes over her, but I don't give her a chance to speak; get to my feet 'cause I need to put some space between us, tell her all this before I change my mind.

"Don't change the fact that I wanted to though, does it? I was so desperate to stop him, Leigh, enough that him being dead felt like the best choice; only seems I couldn't even do that right. Had him right there, would have been so easy to end it forever."

...quickly fold away the blade and shove it roughly in my back pocket, punch him again before he realises my change of heart, that I can't go through with it again... settle for hitting him, over and over, as I make my demands.

"Stay away from me and mine, Myers, or next time I won't be so generous, understand?"

Watch as he nods, know it's about the nearest to any kind of agreement I'm gonna get... throw one last blow at him so he finally falls to the ground; walk away, don't look back, pray my threats are enough to convince him I mean it, that he'll leave us alone...

"So what stopped you?"

"You did." I run a hand through my hair, not quite able to meet her eye. "'Cause when it came to it, all I could think of was how much you'd hate me, how it would ruin the only good thing in my life right now. And the thought of that seemed far worse. Don't want to fuck this up, lose you again."

She's quiet, too quiet, wish I knew what she was damn well thinking now she knows it all; the silence is unbearable.

The seconds drag on and on, and as I watch her out the corner of my eye as she sits there silently, I'm certain this is it; that I've finally crossed the line of how much shit she's prepared to take from me and we're done. Try to figure out if it'd be better for me to keep some small scrap of dignity and leave now, rather than wait for her to tell me the inevitable. Decide that I just want this over with, need to hear for myself what's on her mind, no matter how bad.

"Jesus, Leigh, say something will you?"

And then she's here in front of me, her arms around me as she leans her head against my chest and whispers how she ain't ever going nowhere, that we'll figure this out together and that it'll all somehow be okay. And despite all my fears her certainty on this feels infectious, makes me believe we've some chance of actually making it, so much so that before I can think too hard about it and stop myself, I'm holding her close as I tell her exactly what she means to me - all the things I've never been able to say before, that I've never felt about anyone but her.

THE END

A/N: HUGE thanks to anyone who's ever read, followed, favourited or reviewed any of my stories. I really appreciate all of your interest and support.

I had thought about taking this a little further into the future, but in the end this felt like the right place to leave this story: maybe not quite a happy ending, but at least a hopeful one - hopefully ;)

But, if you are interested in any more about Tim, then there's another story focusing on how his past affects his future—We'll Live and Die in these Towns. Plus he also appears in my short Angela fic, 'Trust', which is set a few months after this, as well as in my Shepard family story, 'Mothers Little Helper', told from the point of view of their mother.

Thank you so much for reading :)