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kathierif_ficTitle: Spider and Fly
Author: Kathie
Fandom: CSI:NY
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true.
Rating: FRM
Summary: Sonny Sassone was on the run.
Warnings: AU, violence
Word Count: 748
A/Ns: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
au_bingo prompt #1: Other: Evil Goateed Universe.
Sonny Sassone was on the run.
He was hiding in dark, dank places, his only company his gun and a varying number of rats.
He had exactly one bullet left.
Water was dripping in an unsteady rhythm from the rusty faucet in what once had been the kitchen of an apartment, driving Sonny’s feverish mind insane. There was no regularity to that drip, just that….he ran a shaky hand over his sweaty face.
The bullet wound in his shoulder, rendering his left hand useless, had been infected for days now, but he couldn’t go to a hospital. He would never know which doctors were on Mac Taylor’s payroll.
There was nobody he could trust anymore.
His Tanglewood Boys – they were all dead or gone, their bodies swimming down the Hudson river or turning up on, or in, construction sites all over the city.
He was the only one left. He was the first and the last in the glorious but too brief history of the Tanglewood Boys. He would have laughed about the irony, but there was nothing even remotely funny about running for one’s life.
Not when the outcome was as obvious as it was this time. Mac Taylor was obsessed with destroying him, and he was relentless in his pursuit of that goal.
Nobody took what was Mac Taylor’s and lived to tell the tale. He didn’t just destroy you, he took over everything you owned and twisted it to his purposes.
Sometimes Sonny wondered if little Danny Messer wouldn’t have been better off if he’d stuck around and joined the Tanglewood Boys instead of letting himself get entangled in Mac Taylor’s organization. Tanglewood, at least, had been family, at least as long as Louie had been one of his boys.
Things had only started to go down the drain when Louie had been found, beaten within an inch of his life. He had been found guilty of collaborating with the enemy and had been punished accordingly. It was the law of the street, and the story should have ended right there.
Up to that point everything had been all right and fine, but then, Danny Messer had shown up and had started to snoop around.
It had turned out that the alleged collaboration with the enemy had been simply dinner at the Messer family house, during which the brothers had stepped outside for a smoke and had been seen talking to each other. By the time word of this came out, it was already too late.
The hunt on Tanglewood had been opened.
Well, Sonny thought fatalistically, it was almost over now, one way or another.
Mac Taylor, it turned out, had taken a special shine to Danny, and when Danny had come to him and had told him about what had happened, all hell had broken loose.
Mac Taylor was ruthless. His name was whispered behind hands in one breath with the great ones of the past, like Al Capone.
Sonny took a deep, careful breath and glanced down at the inflamed area around the wound in his shoulder. It looked bad; even worse than before.
He grunted in pain and struggled up to his feet, his right hand pressed to his shoulder and his back against the peeling wallpaper, to stumble to the sink with the dripping faucet.
The water was dirty, but he didn’t care anymore. His mouth was dry, his throat parched, and he needed something to drink.
Mac Taylor, he thought, was like a fat, murderous spider. He didn’t have to leave his web, but his web was everywhere, its sticky threads reaching into every corner of New York City. He had cops, doctors, accountants and even bakers on his payroll, and Sonny had no place to run anymore.
He was a fly, and the spider’s web was tightening around him. Soon, they would find him – briefly, he wondered who was going to come for him; maybe Danny Messer himself, eyes blazing with hot fury, or maybe Donnie Flack, the son of a cop who was cold as ice and had earned his place in Mac Taylor’s ranks with several ruthless murders?
It didn’t matter, Sonny thought as he weakly sank back to the ground, the gun clenched tightly in his hand.
He had one more bullet.
No matter who Mac Taylor sent to put him down like a rabid dog, he would be prepared.
One more bullet.
Sonny Sassone settled in to wait.
He had nothing to lose anymore.
~end.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: CSI:NY
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true.
Rating: FRM
Summary: Sonny Sassone was on the run.
Warnings: AU, violence
Word Count: 748
A/Ns: Written for
au_bingo prompt #1: Other: Evil Goateed Universe.Sonny Sassone was on the run.
He was hiding in dark, dank places, his only company his gun and a varying number of rats.
He had exactly one bullet left.
Water was dripping in an unsteady rhythm from the rusty faucet in what once had been the kitchen of an apartment, driving Sonny’s feverish mind insane. There was no regularity to that drip, just that….he ran a shaky hand over his sweaty face.
The bullet wound in his shoulder, rendering his left hand useless, had been infected for days now, but he couldn’t go to a hospital. He would never know which doctors were on Mac Taylor’s payroll.
There was nobody he could trust anymore.
His Tanglewood Boys – they were all dead or gone, their bodies swimming down the Hudson river or turning up on, or in, construction sites all over the city.
He was the only one left. He was the first and the last in the glorious but too brief history of the Tanglewood Boys. He would have laughed about the irony, but there was nothing even remotely funny about running for one’s life.
Not when the outcome was as obvious as it was this time. Mac Taylor was obsessed with destroying him, and he was relentless in his pursuit of that goal.
Nobody took what was Mac Taylor’s and lived to tell the tale. He didn’t just destroy you, he took over everything you owned and twisted it to his purposes.
Sometimes Sonny wondered if little Danny Messer wouldn’t have been better off if he’d stuck around and joined the Tanglewood Boys instead of letting himself get entangled in Mac Taylor’s organization. Tanglewood, at least, had been family, at least as long as Louie had been one of his boys.
Things had only started to go down the drain when Louie had been found, beaten within an inch of his life. He had been found guilty of collaborating with the enemy and had been punished accordingly. It was the law of the street, and the story should have ended right there.
Up to that point everything had been all right and fine, but then, Danny Messer had shown up and had started to snoop around.
It had turned out that the alleged collaboration with the enemy had been simply dinner at the Messer family house, during which the brothers had stepped outside for a smoke and had been seen talking to each other. By the time word of this came out, it was already too late.
The hunt on Tanglewood had been opened.
Well, Sonny thought fatalistically, it was almost over now, one way or another.
Mac Taylor, it turned out, had taken a special shine to Danny, and when Danny had come to him and had told him about what had happened, all hell had broken loose.
Mac Taylor was ruthless. His name was whispered behind hands in one breath with the great ones of the past, like Al Capone.
Sonny took a deep, careful breath and glanced down at the inflamed area around the wound in his shoulder. It looked bad; even worse than before.
He grunted in pain and struggled up to his feet, his right hand pressed to his shoulder and his back against the peeling wallpaper, to stumble to the sink with the dripping faucet.
The water was dirty, but he didn’t care anymore. His mouth was dry, his throat parched, and he needed something to drink.
Mac Taylor, he thought, was like a fat, murderous spider. He didn’t have to leave his web, but his web was everywhere, its sticky threads reaching into every corner of New York City. He had cops, doctors, accountants and even bakers on his payroll, and Sonny had no place to run anymore.
He was a fly, and the spider’s web was tightening around him. Soon, they would find him – briefly, he wondered who was going to come for him; maybe Danny Messer himself, eyes blazing with hot fury, or maybe Donnie Flack, the son of a cop who was cold as ice and had earned his place in Mac Taylor’s ranks with several ruthless murders?
It didn’t matter, Sonny thought as he weakly sank back to the ground, the gun clenched tightly in his hand.
He had one more bullet.
No matter who Mac Taylor sent to put him down like a rabid dog, he would be prepared.
One more bullet.
Sonny Sassone settled in to wait.
He had nothing to lose anymore.
~end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-05 01:40 am (UTC)One minor nitpick: The hunt on Tanglewood had bee opened <-- You missed a letter in been.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-05 04:40 pm (UTC)Who knows, maybe there will be more? fog-verse?;)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-05 05:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-05 05:16 pm (UTC)Would I do that to you?
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-05 05:24 pm (UTC)Yes.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-05 05:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-05 06:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-06 08:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-02-06 08:33 pm (UTC)