Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2015 8:12 am Post subject: Bronson's Funeral Home
It had only been a week since Lawson's murder, and yet, for some reason, time felt as it were passing at an excruciatingly slow pace.
The police had kept Lawson's body for three days to collect as much evidence as they could regarding his case, and, eventually, they released it to the Fitz brothers and Flora. None of them had seen his body up until the police released it, mostly because no one could bring themselves to see Lawson like that and accept it.
Accept that he was gone.
Griffith had stared at his brother's battered body in absolute horror, taken aback by the ferocity of his wounds. If it hadn't been for the wedding band on his finger and the toe-tag on his foot, Griffith wasn't even sure if he would have been able to tell it was his brother. In fact, when he first saw his brother's corpse, he was taken back to when he and his brothers had to identify their father. For a moment, Lawson was their father to Griff and he relived that mortification in the way of silent, heaved sobs.
Flora had instantly let out a horrid wail and staggered over to the cabinet from which Lawson's body had been pulled, and she loomed over him. Her hands shook something terrible as she placed one to hold his left hand while using the other to stroke at his face, begging for him to wake up, crying to God to wake her from this nightmare. As time dragged on in the morgue, it became painfully obvious that no one was waking up.
Dixon couldn't bare the sight of his brother and quickly ran to the exit of the room. Griffith could hear him retching in the outside hallway.
Griffith left shortly therein after, leaving Flora to grieve her husband, his brother, and began the tedious process of getting Lawson's body moved from the morgue to the funeral home.
With everyone discharged from the hospital, Griffith with decently healed wounds and Flora with her newborn daughter (who, after Flora was able to collect herself, she decided to name Estella after the Fitz brother's mother, a request Lawson had made before his death), it should have been a time of relief, however, as soon as they were home, it was a time of grieving and planning for Lawson's send off.
Griffith tried to explain to Flora that they needed to have an Irish wake, as that was what Lawson would have wanted, but Flora stated she simply couldn't stand the idea of anyone seeing her husband so bruised and battered, so... dead and devoid of life.
They decided, ultimately, on cremation, which they took care of two days after having the body released to them. Once again, Dixon couldn't stand to be in the room where they performed the cremation, he left. Griffith stayed with his brother's body until the end, walking him up to the oven doors. Flora had hung onto Griffith for dear life, crying inconsolably while her and Lawson's sweet baby Estella slept soundly in a perfectly warm bundle in her carseat nearby.
Despite them having cremated Lawson without a prior service, the men from Lawson's gang requested they host a service of sorts so they could pay homage to their fallen friend. Griffith wanted to protest, he just wanted to be done with the whole ordeal, but he realized they were mourning too.
They'd lost his brother too.
So, there they were, one week later, at Bronson's Funeral Home. The funeral director, apparently a friend of someone in Lawson's ranks, had set up a modest service. Barnado himself had brought in a large, blown up photo of Lawson, from which he obtained via one of Lawson's "Employee of the Month" photos. When Griff saw it, he gave a solemn smile when he saw his brother's oil-smudged face and dopey grin in the photo.
Despite their bickering, Griffith decided he would have done anything to see that smile one more time.
Some of the boys brought food, mostly made by sisters and mothers. Others brought flowers, which almost appeared a strange combination with the burly men in Lawson's gang. There were a few who brought alcohol, which wasn't really permitted on the premises, but was allowed just this once. Everyone brought pictures, stories, and plenty of tears.
Everyone brought plenty of tears.
Flora sat at the front of the hall, on the carpeted pedestal on which a casket would typically sit or an officiating priest. In her arms rested baby Estella while Lawson's picture sat directly behind her and his urn right beside her.
She wore a modest black dress along with a mantila draped over her hair, which her mother had given her years before for the sake of her uncle's funeral. Meanwhile, Dixon and Griffith stood at the front, just adjacent from the pedestal dressed in their Sunday's best. While they had foregone attending church every Sunday as they did years before, the boys still each had a tailored suit and attended every so often, mostly making time for Easter mass as well as Christmas, several other holidays included.
The men all came up, one by one, stopping to shake Griffith and Dixon's hands before going to Flora and Estella and offering her their sincerest condolences along with flowers, which quickly piled up around Flora's feet. She hardly could be bothered with the mass of petals at her feet, let alone the men's words. She only rocked Estella in one arm while resting a trembling hand on Lawson's urn. She looked like an absolute wreck, admittedly, but no one was going to tell her that, especially not Griffith or Dixon.
When it appeared that almost everyone expected to show up arrived, Griffith placed a hand at Dixon's shoulder and looked at his younger brother, offering a small nod as if to indicate he could excuse himself, as he had been watching Dixon's anxiety and discomfort rise as time drew on. Dixon gave a gracious nod and went to sit down in a side parlor. In the meantime, Griffith decided to go over to Flora, taking a seat by her. He stepped around the flowers and sunk down beside her, placing his hand at her knee, feeling it trembling slightly.
"Hey...Flo', listen, if you want to take Estella into the parlor for a bit, that's alright." He suggested, however, he was surprised when Flora quickly reacted by shaking her head vehemently, her eyes growing rapidly wet.
"I won't leave him, Griff." She whispered. Griffith watched as her hand tightened on the lid of the urn.
Harper stared at the building for the funeral home, feeling her stomach twist with almost guilt and definite fear. And worry. This was going to be like walking into some sort've suicidal trap but she knew she had to help Darcy around.
He still had problems pushing the wheelchair on his own and Dixon had asked for Darcy to come if he could, which... she could understand. Dixon and Darcy were hardly EVER apart if they could help it and Dixon would need him and Darcy wanted to be there for him just as much as he was needed.
Darcy had begged her really, pointing out that Dixon had been by him through everything as of lately. They had been inseparable even more so lately, practically connected at their hands really.
Harper and Griffith hadn't really been able to see each other much, other than the very occasional visit to really just... hold each other. For her to just cuddle Griffith and remind him that she had him, that things would be okay eventually.
She had gotten her and Darcy's things the day after everything and booked it immediately, reserving them a room in a motel for whenever Darcy had his release and that's where they stayed now, under an alias since Harper had paid in cash and it was really just a small run down motel.
She didn't really know what was going to happen next, since Harper was positive she had a huge target on her back now from half of Griffith's family and the entire gang, though she knew their standards.
And she didn't know what she'd do if she lost Griffith. Of course, other than helping Darcy and things just going back to how they were, just.. so much darker.
But life would be miserable for him, wouldn't it? Would he want that? Someone he has to hide? Could I ever show my face? I'm about to, aren't I? Jesus, I'm going to die.
"Harper? I need to get in there." Darcy said, looking up at her, breaking her out of her anxiety filled thoughts. "You can check on Griff and.. and then you can head out, okay? I can get it." he tried, noticing how nervous his sister looked.
They had went to the thrift shop and managed to find appropriate clothes for an event like this. Darcy was in a black dress shirt and dress pants and he just looked appropriate and nice.
And while Harper was dressed in black too, she still felt like she was definitely trespassing as she pushed Darcy to the main entrance doors, gripping the handles of the wheelchair until her knuckles were white. She'd just check on Griffith, help Darcy get where he needed to go and then get the hell out. Right?
As soon as the Hunt siblings entered the main hall, all eyes had drifted to the door, and almost instantly, all of those eyes became riddled with rage and disgust when they fell onto Harper.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"You've got a lot of nerve, you bitch."
"Is Kasper here? Where the fuck is he!"
Everyone hollered some sort of comment or question as several of the men proceeded to approaching Harper and Darcy, closing in on them like a pack of wolves and two lone fawns.
Griffith was in the midst of trying to offer comfort to his sister-in-law when he looked up to see the hubbub. At first, due to the words being thrown out, he thought it was one of Kasper's goons, which drew him to place a protective arm up in front of Flora, however, he lowered his arm when he squinted, looking to the center of the problem.
"Harper?" He asked quietly before realizing it was indeed Harper and Darcy. "Hey, hey, hey!" Griffith scrambled to his feet. "Hold on, fellas! Hold on!" He trampled over flowers and rushed down the main aisle of the main hall, waving his hands as he did so. "Stop, stop, stop!"
Everyone's befuddled expressions fell on Griffith instantaneously as he pushed his way towards the center of the crowd, breaking things up before they could get out of hand.
Harper's grip had tightened even more, until her knuckles were impossibly white and she had drawn her shoulders up defensively, quickly answering that she just needed to help Darcy over and over until Griffith made them shut up. She felt this was possibly the worst thing Darcy had EVER asked her to do.
She looked at Griffith, inhaling and exhaling quickly and shakily. She didn't want to be here. She certainly didn't want to be crowded right then and opened her mouth to talk but Darcy beat her to it.
"Where's Dixon? He asked me to come." Darcy said quickly, trying to sound confident. "I can get myself there so she can leave, just... where is he?"
"Side parlor, bud." Griffith said, looking over his shoulder to the men behind him. He shot them a look, to which they responded by stepping out of the way and making a path. Griff closed the gap between he, Harper, and Darcy, reaching down to ease Harper's hands from her brother's wheelchair.
Everyone let out quiet, confused whispers.
"Jesus Fucking Christ, Fitz, what's going on?" One man yelled.
"Ey, Bernie, shut your mouth!" Griffith was quick to turn to the source of the yelling, pinpointing Bernie in the crowd. "This is a church and we're at my brother's funeral, I'll be damned if I let you talk like that! Moreover, don't worry about what's going on, alright? All you, and everyone else needs to know, is that this one," he gestured to Harper, twining his fingers with hers tightly, "is off-limits from now on."
The whispers grew louder, more confused.
"She's got nothing to do with Crawson, she's cut ties, you hear? And the kid, he ain't got nothing to do with Kasper either. In fact, he's a family friend, so if I see any of you, and I do mean any of you, hassling either of them, we'll take this outside, you hear?" Griff called over everyone, looking over the crowd, as if to see if there were any challenges.
Darcy glanced to make sure Griffith had his sister safe before going to slowly push his way to the side parlor like Griffith had said, trusting with his full heart that Griffith wouldn't let anything bad happen to Harper.
Harper eyed them all nervously, holding onto Griffith with a vice grip. This was a terrible idea. This was a damn awful idea and oh god, she was going to die. She would've never even bat an eyelash had she been backed up by the "guys" before but that life was done.
So damn done. She cut her ties and she was never going to look for anything even similar again. Not after putting her brothers life on the line. Not after any of it. She trusted Griffith to handle it, to keep her safe but of course it was still damn terrifying. She was like a speck looking at giants, really. "I-I'm sorry, Griff, Darcy just.. needed help in." she said quietly.
"It's fine, it's fine." Griffith said quickly, his gaze travelling through the crowd, as if to see if anyone was bold enough to make a move. Immediately, it didn't look like there was any danger, however, Griffith didn't want to risk it. He gently tugged at Harper's hand, intending to take her to the side parlor with Darcy and Dixon. "C'mon." He coaxed.
Harper held onto his hand tightly still and went to follow him closely, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves and calm down. It was going to be fine.
Darcy pushed his way into the side parlor and looked around for Dixon, gnawing at his bottom lip nervously.
Dixon was laying down in one of the pews in the side parlor, his gangly legs hanging over the edge and kicking idly at the air. He could hear the familiar squeaking of wheels and he instantly sat up to look towards the source of the sound. A small, pleased smile crept up on his lips when he saw Darcy. He instantly got up from his perch.
"Hey, Darce." He greeted.
---
Griffith could hear the whispering behind him intensifying, however, it wasn't until he passed the pedestal at the front of the church he could hear yelling, and it wasn't yelling he had anticipated.
"W...wh...WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE?"
There was a slight kerfuffle, the sound of Estella whimpering, and a man letting out a confused sound of surprise, all of which was followed by the clicking of heels before...
"Puta!"
Griffith turned around, just in time to see Flora stampeding towards he and Harper, her hands reaching out at an impossible speed to grab at the length of Harper's hair, yanking her backwards.
"Hey." Darcy gave a small smile in return and pushed his wheelchair to meet him half way. "Sorry we took so long. Harper... took quite a lot of encouraging to come."
-x-
"AH, shit!" Harper shouted in surprise and pain, stumbling back and almost landing on her ass but just managed to keep her balance as her hands flew back to try and pull Flora's hands from her hair. "Stop! Stop stop stop!"
"It's alright, I knew you'd show up event-ohmyGod!" Dixon had looked up with wide eyes as he watched his sister-in-law launch a hasty and fierce attack on none other than Harper herself.
"Hey! Hey! Flora, stop!" Griffith sputtered frantically as he stepped behind his sister in law, trying to use his position behind her to yank her hands out of Harper's hair and away from Harper. However, whether she was simply that strong, or she was filled with rage and adrenaline, Flora kept her grasp firm on Harper's hair and jerked her head side to side.
"Y-You bitch! You bitch!" She wailed, angry tears streaking her cheeks.
Darcy twisted to try and see. "Wh.. what the hell! Harper!" Darcy sputtered, trying to turn the wheelchair around to he could see better. He wished he could do SOMETHING, ANYTHING, but he was confined to the damn wheelchair. "Dixon!"
"Fuckfuckfuck!" Harper hissed in pain and grabbed Flora's wrists tightly, trying to pry her away. "Let GO! Please just l-let GO!" she shouted, trying to do whatever she could to get Flora off of her, without hurting her.
"R-Right!" Dixon scrambled over and proceeded to try and yank Flora's hands from Harper's hair while Griffith tried to pull Flora herself away.
"Flora, stop! Stop! Please!" Griffith yelled, fighting to keep a firm hold on Flora's furiously thrashing form.
"Y-You and that bastard take my brothers, and then you take my husband! My husband!" Flora wailed, her grasp becoming weaker as Dixon, Harper, and Griffith all tried to pull her away. "My baby doesn't have a father now! I don't have my husband and she doesn't have a father!"
Between everyone's valiant efforts, they were able to pry Flora's grasp from Harper's hair, Dixon pulling Harper closer to him while Griffith stumbled back with Flora in his arms. He hit the ground and let out a pained gasp (wow, those ribs sure are broken still) as Flora landed atop him.
Harper stumbled back into Dixon, putting her hands up to her aching (possibly bleeding? She couldn't really tell) scalp as she stared at Flora through pained tears. "I-I..I-I.." she sputtered, trying to figure out what to do or say.
Darcy hurried after Dixon and to Harper's side. "Harper, Harper, go home. I'll.. I'll see you there, okay? Go home, it's okay." he said, just wanting his sister somewhere safe.
"Flora, she didn't have anything," Griffith gasped in pain, "to do with Lawson, she had nothing to do with 'Nando or Cisco either, that was all Kasper, okay? It was all him!"
Flora's movements eased in Griffith's arms, however her chest continued to tremble with sobs.
"M-My hus...my husband...my...brothers...I...why them?" She sputtered, apparently having lost the will to fight as she sank against Griffith's form.
Meanwhile, Dixon's arms tightened protectively around Harper's form when he saw two of Lawson's gang members approaching. However, they both stopped short to help Flora off of Griffith, pulling Griffith to his feet as well. But just because they had apparently stopped to help Flora and Griff, that didn't mean they didn't shoot nasty glares Harper's way.
"H-Hey, c'mon, Harp, there's...there's a door over here." He said, retreating farther back into the parlor.
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