Sorry for the long delay but I had a big case of writers block on this. Hope this is good. Also go vote on a poll on my page for a Hell On Wheels story I'm doing. Also, read the Hell On Wheels story This Ain't No Place For The Weary Kind too. I also posted a new Hell On Wheels story called Running Man's Path, check that out too! :D Anyways R&R!


Nocturne


The party house was crowded, so much that a sardine can would probably look more spacious, and hazy smoke from cigs and joints filled the air. The strong smell of beer and whiskey loomed, and continuously wafted into my nostrils. I sat on Tim's lap; one of his arms was slung over my shoulder, while I was resting my head in the crook of his neck as he played poker with some guys from his gang. He smelled strongly of booze, cigs, musk, and mints. His face was hard as stone as he played the deceitful gambling game, providing him with the perfect poker face.

"Ha, I win again." Tim smugly showed his cards, revealing him as the winner.

"Ah, 'nother round?" One of the gang members, one with orange tinted hair and light lime eyes, asked as he grabbed the cards and began shuffling them.

"Nah, I'm out or I'll go broke." The gang member with a tattoo of his girl's name scrolled across his neck shook his head. "Have fun though, see ya." He said as he got up and out of his chair.

"See ya."

"Yea, see ya Charlie." Tim told the man as he began to walk away. Tim looked at the man with orange hair and said, "Guess it's just us, Harry, go ahead and deal."

Before Harry could deal a city accented voice spoke, breaking through the blaring music, chatter of party goers, clanking of empty bottles being thrown in the recycle bin, and the shuffling of poker cards. "See you're back with that no good ass, Shy."

Before I could reply Tim did. I felt Tim's muscles tense and knew that if he continued to get mad then trouble would be in store for him tonight. "Winston, go the hell away and shut up. You don't know shit bout me and Shy, go find some useless whore to bother with."

Dal's face twisted into a dark shape as his mouth opened slightly to form a dangerous grin and to brag about one taboo he had done, which was the broken commandment set forth by Tim for all of his friends, enemies, and frenemies. "Oh, I already did that. All last weekend I was huddled up in my room all over your lil whore sister."

Suddenly Tim got up, causing me to wobbly stand up since he had shot up so fast, and he took a big step towards Dally. I stood in awe as I just watched everything take place. Tim's muscles had suddenly grown in size, his tattoos on his arm grew in size too. "You son of a bitch!" He growled as his hands forcefully seized Dally's collar. The S tattooed inbetween his thumb and pointer finger looked as if it was bulging out of his skin, that's how tight his grip was on Dal's collar.

The dark haired, ice blue eyed, pretty greaser boy just chuckled. He just chuckled as Tim had him by the neck. Was Dallas going insane?


Shelly paced around the kitchen, trying effortlessly to get her grandson to go to sleep. Her husband Dave had just given the boy some warm milk spiked with cheap whiskey a few moments earlier. Dave was sitting at the table, grumbling. "Those kids need to stay home and take care of this kid. They made it, not us, it's their job."

"They're young, they deserve to go out and have fun." She said as she bounced the crying almost year old boy on her hip, hoping to get him to calm down.

"This kid won't shut up, been crying for hours straight since they left. This has got to stop, Shelly, or I'm out. I can't live like this, watching a grandkid when it's useless as bull-tits parents are off drunk and high at parties." Dave bitched on and on as he shook his head, getting up from his set to go over to the fridge to grab himself a beer.

Shelly suddenly began to panic, the sure thought of being left by husband number 2 was enough to send her on a breakdown or a bender...whatever would come first. "Dave, you don't mean that, you wouldn't leave. You can't." The thin woman shuttered out in horror.

He slammed the fridge shut and popped open his beer can. He took a sip before yelling, "Just one more time of this watching a crying kid shit and I'm out."

"No, no, no, Dave you can't go. Just can't go."

"Either you tell your kid to take care of his damn kid or I'm out. Ain't my kid, raised mine and I ain't raisin' my kid's kid. Ya hear me, hag?"

"I heard, I'll tell Tim we can't watch the baby anymore." She barely whispered in fear as she slicked back her grandson's dark curls, tears now pouring down her eyes, dripping down her hollowed cheeks only to fall off of her chin.

"You better." Was all the angry man said before stomping out of the kitchen with beer in tow.


The big muscular man sat, sulking, at his arm chair in the dark at around 9 at night. He was startled when the light flipped on next to him, his movie star looking brother standing right in front of him.

Soda looked Darry up and down before saying, "Darry, you have to get some sleep and eat something. Working so many shifts on empty ain't too good, you're scaring me."

Darry just shook his head. "Lil buddy, I'm fine, you just go on out with Steve and have a good time. Try to keep your chin up, we'll find Pony and Johnny, Shy'll come home with Tim-E too."

"Okay…" Soda sighed before heading towards the door. Soda was being taking out by Steve, to get cheered up.


The church upon Jay Mountain was dimly lit by candles, which flames flickered at danced among the night air. The boys sat against the wall, wide awake, as the newly bleached blonde read aloud Gone with the Wind to pass the time and to try and get them sleepy.