Plus, Josh Hartnett is pretty.
May. 11th, 2006 12:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinetzinTitle: Bad Dog
Summary: The real beginning.
Fandom: Lucky Number Slevin
Word Count: 285
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: None
A/N: I don't know about you, but I really like this movie. Not much to say, other than it's so spoilery that it won't even make sense if you haven't seen it.
“And this is my son.” Inspiration strikes. “Slevin.”
“How old is he?” the lady behind the desk coos.
“I’m not-” Henry knows he should protest, get away. There might not be another chance.
“Ten next week,” Goodkat tells her, putting a warning hand on his shoulder. Wisely, he shuts up.
The hotel is nicer than any he’s ever been to, but it seems completely deserted. Goodkat opens their room and plunks his suitcase on the bed.
“You need new clothes,” Goodkat says, mostly to himself.
“What did you call me back at the desk?”
Goodkat turns, facing him fully. A lesser man would have dreaded this moment. “It was the name of the horse.”
And the whole story spirals out from there.
---
Goodkat lets him cry it out for the better part of two days.
He’s curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, like he’s been all day.
“I want to go home,” Henry tells him.
“Sorry.” He packs Slevin’s new clothes into his new suitcase, “SHK” emblazoned on the side in too-cheery capitals.
He sits up, eyes dry. “Then I want to hurt them.”
Goodkat looks him hard in the eyes. These are not the eyes of a child- they’re already cold and hard. This is not the same boy he couldn’t kill. This is a kid who understands, one who’ll have to.
Goodkat has gotten him into this; he’s already set their course, and he can’t let him down now. Henry deserves his revenge, and Slevin is going to get it.
“Okay.” He hands Slevin the suitcase and his new passport. “We’re going to London.”
He studies the passport. “Kelevra?” Slevin asks, sniffling.
Goodkat smiles. "It means 'bad dog.'"
Summary: The real beginning.
Fandom: Lucky Number Slevin
Word Count: 285
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: None
A/N: I don't know about you, but I really like this movie. Not much to say, other than it's so spoilery that it won't even make sense if you haven't seen it.
“And this is my son.” Inspiration strikes. “Slevin.”
“How old is he?” the lady behind the desk coos.
“I’m not-” Henry knows he should protest, get away. There might not be another chance.
“Ten next week,” Goodkat tells her, putting a warning hand on his shoulder. Wisely, he shuts up.
The hotel is nicer than any he’s ever been to, but it seems completely deserted. Goodkat opens their room and plunks his suitcase on the bed.
“You need new clothes,” Goodkat says, mostly to himself.
“What did you call me back at the desk?”
Goodkat turns, facing him fully. A lesser man would have dreaded this moment. “It was the name of the horse.”
And the whole story spirals out from there.
---
Goodkat lets him cry it out for the better part of two days.
He’s curled up on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, like he’s been all day.
“I want to go home,” Henry tells him.
“Sorry.” He packs Slevin’s new clothes into his new suitcase, “SHK” emblazoned on the side in too-cheery capitals.
He sits up, eyes dry. “Then I want to hurt them.”
Goodkat looks him hard in the eyes. These are not the eyes of a child- they’re already cold and hard. This is not the same boy he couldn’t kill. This is a kid who understands, one who’ll have to.
Goodkat has gotten him into this; he’s already set their course, and he can’t let him down now. Henry deserves his revenge, and Slevin is going to get it.
“Okay.” He hands Slevin the suitcase and his new passport. “We’re going to London.”
He studies the passport. “Kelevra?” Slevin asks, sniffling.
Goodkat smiles. "It means 'bad dog.'"
