You're Always You

Chapter Nineteen

David Minett

"You were gone forever, what did you do?"

....

"Monica," David said, in a tone that told her he didn't want to talk about it.

Monica had bounced back pretty quickly, now that she wasn't spending nights twerking on old dudes, which was nice. She seemed more like her old self, which was a confidence boost to Davie in turn.

Moni had been easy to fix.

....This counted as fixing, right?

Whether it did or not, David was the kind of man to go above and beyond for the sake of just in case. Especially in situations, like this one, where he didn't know where the bar was.

Brett was going to be impossible to make a cop again, but hopefully just turning him around was enough. Speaking of which, he still had to figure that out.

Tomorrow.

For now he had to deal with Monica teasing him.

"Monica," she repeated, deepening her voice to mimic him. "Limp-noodle my ass."

David sighed. She wasn't going to let it go if he kept being vague about it. "I didn't get danced on, Monica," he said shaking his head with a frown. "I just wanted to talk to Lydia. Y'know, catch up. Not like I know how to reach her any other way."

Monica seemed to take that, nodding. "Yeah, that's fair." Then she grinned. "But that's cute! I'd watch my ass though. Richie doesn't like thinking other guys are trying to move in on Lydia."

"I know," he replied, rubbing his neck. He knew Dickie was probably chewing her out, and not in any kind of fun way, for having disappeared for an hour and fifteen minutes. David felt bad about that, but there wasn't much he could do. At least he'd paid for what he could.

Hopefully Dickie was still the same after 12 years, and his favorite color was still green.

"Not gonna lie, though," Monica said, kicking her feet slightly as she lie prone on the couch. "I feel like she'd be better off. Richie's...well...himself. I mean, she's super nice, and she does what she has to do, but...I feel like she'd be so much better doing something else. Y'know?"

Oh he knew.

"She shoulda been on Broadway," David sighed, slipping off his jacket as he headed into his room. He still hadn't returned to the apartment that he'd woken up in, but he felt like he should. There might be stuff in there, stuff that was his. Stuff that might be useful.

Once in his room, David flippe his jacket around until he was able to reach into the pocket with the mints in it. Lydia had found a note here.

One of her notes.

Since her contact was gone from his phone, David hadn't thought there would be notes on his stuff, but....

Well.

Maybe there was more that carried over that he hadn't expected. That was...a good sign. The man pulled out the note and merely...gazed at it for a few moments, taking in the familiar shape of her letters, of the heart she penciled onto the end of every note. It was...bittersweet. And she must've thought it strange that he had a note in her handwriting on him.

Oh well.

I'm not a hoarder, but I really wanna keep you forever

Putting the note back with a smile, David felt encouraged. The fact that his talk with Lydia earlier had gone so surprisingly well had encouraged him too, but this only helped. It was like his Lydia, wherever she might be right now, was trying to reach him through the void, and it gave him confidence.

He could do this.

—

"Hey, how's that connection search coming?"

....

"It's...coming," Dave muttered through the phone with a slight frown.

He had tried to do some more networking this morning, but it seemed like there wasn't anybody willing to pull a string or two. Not anybody that could, and those that could weren't doing it for Davie.

Fuckers.

"So, y'got nothing," Brett said, leaning back. "Fuck."

"I don't have nothing," David remarked, closing his eyes with frustration, because that was technically a lie. "Just....I'm working on it. Okay?"

Brett sighed. "So what, you came here to give me bad news in the slammer? Dick move, man."

"No, actually," the older brother said, shaking his head. "I wanted to let you know I talked some sense into Moni. She's not stripping anymore."

That caught Brett's attention, and he sat forward again. "Wait, really? How? There is a God."

David tried not to flinch at the word god. "It wasn't hard," he said. "She just didn't know what she wanted to do. I set her right. She's going into fashion."

"Fashion?" Brett repeated, looking surprised. But, then it came together in his head, and he nodded. "...Oh yeah. I can see that."

She said that, too.

Dave liked to think they were seeing into the actual reality. The real one. Home.

Now if only he could just...fix it. Get home. Get Brett out of prison, and Lydia back in his arms.

To be honest, he wasn't sure which one was going to prove more difficult. After all, last night had gone well. He'd convinced her pretty easily that he was not the asshole Dickie led her to believe.

And then there was Brett, sitting in the hole with no hope in sight.

Sigh.

Here he'd thought Lydia would be more difficult, not knowing even how to find her at the start, and yet he'd made more progress with her than he was pretty sure he'd make with Brett by this time tomorrow too.

"Well...." Brett murmured, taking Davie from his thoughts. "At least you're trying. S'better than Dad's been doing."

....

"What do you mean?" David asked, furrowing his brows.

Brett raised a brow. "I haven't seen Dad in...." He blew out a thoughtful breath. "Fuck, since you first deployed. My first time in the hole. He disowned the fuck outta me then. 'Why can't you be more like your brother?' Don't you remember this, Davie?"

No, he didn't, but he was very glad to be reminded. Dad was bound to have way more connections than David. Dad was in the Army for a lot longer than just eleven years, unlike his son.

And if David was supposedly the favorite as Brett was implying, then maybe he could get their father to help Brett out.

It was worth a try.

"Dad," said David, nodding. "I'll try Dad."