Steve couldn't really say where his head was before Danny's voice broke through. Somewhere between where he's sitting, and where he's watching Chin on the bike, and somewhere far across the world, as far as phone calls never stop being even when you're standing where the call originated.
The first words out of Danny's mouth make his line of vision slide that direction, toward the driver's seat and the man sitting in. He's really not going to go for it if Danny thinks he's anywhere above the slander that's probably been thrown around on Chin's name, and his family's. Which begs the question of how many Kelly's are even still on the force. If they had to turn tail with him, or if they're still clawing their way through.
No one liked a traitor, and most of the world couldn't give a damn about doing the good job to find out if it was true.
Which Steve didn't know. Couldn't know. Steve didn't answer those first words again, thinking about Chin's face and his outbursts. He didn't read like he was lying. Angry. Bitter. Hurt. Sure. Nowhere near letting it go however many years later it was. Yeah. Yet still capable of that wide smile this morning, and that gratitude toward his father mixed with the remorse for hearing about his murder. Had his ear to ground, or someone's ear, enough to know what was going on with his Dad's case and that Danny had been handed it.
But the question. That one stops him. Made him focus again on Chin's back in front of them, the wind rippling the fabric of that blue-green shirt as it pressed against him and he flew threw it, heading them toward the beach. "Not lately."
Is the easy answer. Because lately, or anytime in the last five to ten years, he didn't hear much from his Dad at all.
"Back when I was kid, my Dad couldn't shut up about him." It's even and flat, no hint of jealousy, because there was nothing like that in it. Then, when his dad fell into his work not to drown. Or now, when Steve udnerstood it so much better. Even if the man on the bike probably knew his father better than he ever did or could. "He was one of the rising stars of the rookies he trained."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2014-01-25 05:36 pm (UTC)The first words out of Danny's mouth make his line of vision slide that direction, toward the driver's seat and the man sitting in. He's really not going to go for it if Danny thinks he's anywhere above the slander that's probably been thrown around on Chin's name, and his family's. Which begs the question of how many Kelly's are even still on the force. If they had to turn tail with him, or if they're still clawing their way through.
No one liked a traitor, and most of the world couldn't give a damn about doing the good job to find out if it was true.
Which Steve didn't know. Couldn't know. Steve didn't answer those first words again, thinking about Chin's face and his outbursts. He didn't read like he was lying. Angry. Bitter. Hurt. Sure. Nowhere near letting it go however many years later it was. Yeah. Yet still capable of that wide smile this morning, and that gratitude toward his father mixed with the remorse for hearing about his murder. Had his ear to ground, or someone's ear, enough to know what was going on with his Dad's case and that Danny had been handed it.
But the question. That one stops him. Made him focus again on Chin's back in front of them, the wind rippling the fabric of that blue-green shirt as it pressed against him and he flew threw it, heading them toward the beach. "Not lately."
Is the easy answer. Because lately, or anytime in the last five to ten years, he didn't hear much from his Dad at all.
"Back when I was kid, my Dad couldn't shut up about him." It's even and flat, no hint of jealousy, because there was nothing like that in it. Then, when his dad fell into his work not to drown. Or now, when Steve udnerstood it so much better. Even if the man on the bike probably knew his father better than he ever did or could. "He was one of the rising stars of the rookies he trained."