Pop Goes the Weasel (Zander, Casual)

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector remembered when his parents were both finally gone, he hadn't cared enough to actually do anything with their belongings. He just rented a storage container, hired someone to pack everything, and moved it into the locker, locking it and ignoring it. He paid the rent on it monthly and forgot it was there. Decades later though, the storage service was closing and he was forced to deal with it. Hector knew that he could have just hired someone again to deal with it or told his men to take care of it but for some reason he decided to handle it himself on the weekend. In a pair of old jeans, faded on the knees and frayed at the heel, Hector painstakingly went through every box. There was stuff in there that Hector hadn’t even remembered from his childhood. A large, wooden sided television, copper pots and pans, large family photos of his father’s ancestors, and a box of expensive jewelry that had to have belonged to his mother even though Hector couldn’t remember her ever wearing them.

He found boxes of his old things. The single action figure he had stolen from a kid at school and hid under his mattress so his dad wouldn’t find. The right arm had broken off and was taped to its side with duct tape; a disfigured G.I. Joe that Hector had named Calvin. His arm had been blown off in a grenade blast and the doctor reattached it the best he could, the doctor being a 7 year old Hector. Hector had loved that toy; he would hide under his covers at night with it and read books by the light of the large, archaic flashlight he had also nicked. They would read through the only books Hector could get his hands on, mostly encyclopedias and the bible. Then, when his father finally passed out for the night, Hector would sleep with Calvin pulled tight against his bruised ribs and hide his swollen, blackened cheek in the single, flat pillow he had.

Calvin ended up in Hector’s pocket to be taken home.

Boxes of clothes were stacked in a corner to be given away, furniture and knick knacks joined them. The only things that Hector took the time to really sort through were boxes of papers which also held pictures. The papers Hector read through carefully and sorted them into folders: the necessary and the unnecessary. Most of the photos he glanced at in passing and tossed in a trash bin but one caught his eye. His mother was in a hospital bed, his father beside her, and in her arms were two small babies. Hector knew it wasn’t from his birth because he stood off, barely inside the frame of the picture, thin and dark, like a skeleton with a thatch of heavy hair. He sat in his father’s old chair in the storage unit, staring at the picture for far too long, one of his men who was helping him actually came up to him and tapped his shoulder with a concerned “You a’right boss?” Hector nodded and waved him off, pocketing the picture next to Calvin.

He finished with the important papers and left, giving instructions to donate everything else.

Back in his office, Hector began digging. Calling in a favor to someone who worked in child protective services, Hector learned something that knocked the breath out of him. He had two brothers, Zander and Percival, given up for adoption. He was struck by two emotions simultaneously. Shock, shock at the fact that Hector couldn’t even remember his mother being pregnant. The shock melted away when the fact that Hector couldn’t remember 80% of his childhood overruled that thought. It was no surprise that his father had beaten that memory out of him too. The second emotion that swept in was anger. They had gotten out, they weren’t subjected to old man Tormei’s drinking and beating, or their mother telling them that if they didn’t scream or cry it wouldn’t be so bad.

Anger at his mom for loving them more than him, for loving them enough to save them but not him.

Hector wanted to burn the picture and lock the file up again but he knew he couldn’t, not with this new information. He knew theses men’s biological pasts and had a duty to share it with them. Alcoholism on their father’s side, eating disorder on their mom’s, heart disease, cancer, and diabetes ran rampant from both ends. Hector knew that he had to be a nice guy and share this with his brothers. He hated that word, it felt so dirty. They weren’t his brothers unless they spent their Friday nights curled up in a closet just to avoid their father; they weren’t his brothers unless they lied through their teeth every Monday that the newest bruise really was from them being clumsy and falling off a bike; they weren’t his brothers unless they cried tears of sheer joy the day their dad died and went drinking in celebration.

They weren’t his brothers.

It took a few calls to find out where and what happened to each brother. Percival floated around in the system until he was adopted and Zander was picked up by a good, influential family. Finding them out in the real world was just as easy, especially with Zander. He would be the first brother Hector visited, then Perry.

Making sure to have the file in hand when he finally went to Zander’s office in Manhattan, Hector couldn’t help but be a bit nervous about it. Whether he liked it or not, he would be visiting blood. That was a strong, deep connection that he, as a mobster, couldn’t ignore. That proud heritage that connected every made man was running through Zander Devereux’s veins. Of course Hector couldn’t invite him into the family business but he could do his part as a Don and honor the genes.

Hector didn’t make an appointment for the surprise visit. He just showed up and the secretary, stunned that the mayor was standing in front of her, silently let him through. He marched up to Zander’s office door, dressed in a sharp grey suit, and knocked twice before letting himself in. “Zander Devereux?”

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

Zander was not having an exciting morning. Not that being in the office was ever that exciting, but it hadn’t been this tedious in a while.

Being the CEO meant that you didn’t have to do as much work as the grunts, but there were still responsibilities. Unfortunately, all his responsibilities apparently needed to be dealt with today. Three different investment proposals had been stacked on his desk, and three different investors from the board had called, demanding to know how he was managing with the economic slump. He had already signed off on the meeting notes from the week before, and he had high hopes if he would get as far as taking a look at the budget for next quarter. All in all, it made for a lot more work than he had intended upon when he walked through the door of the office that morning. Taking a step back from the company, he thought he wouldn’t have to deal with all this, but it was becoming increasingly clear that there was no walking away.

So here he was, stuck for over three hours at the office, when he should have been in and out only after ten minutes. He wasn’t going to let it get him down. The proposals could possibly be interesting, and talking to the investors wasn’t too terrible...but everything was better when you had a hot drink.

“Jeffry! Coffee!” Zander barked into his intercom, hoping his assistant hadn’t lurked off too far. He seemed to know better than to bother his boss when the stack of paperwork was as tall as it had been that morning.

He leaned back in his chair, looking out the window at the beautiful day he was missing out on. He was just about to press the intercom again when the door to his office opened suddenly. He opened his mouth to tell Jeffry he was getting slow, but the man in the doorway wasn’t Jeffry.

The man in the grey suit was somewhat familiar, which meant he had either seen the man’s picture or met him once. Either way, he could not recall his name for the life of him. He wasn’t the most attractive of men, but he seemed assertive. Assertive was something Zander could deal with.

“Zander Devereux?”

“That’s what the plaque on the door says,” Zander replied, shifting so he was sitting up in his desk. “How can I help you Mr...?”

Names were his downfall. And faces. When there was a combination like this in front of him...Well, at least it wasn’t a scheduled appointment he was supposed to remember.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

“That’s what the plaque on the door says. How can I help you Mr...?”

"Tormei, Hector Tormei. Mayor." Hector said while arching a brow, sneering ever so slightly. This man was a high ranking member of society and he didn't know who the mayor was? Hector wasn't surprised really. Younger people these days were always so self-centered and ignorant of the people around them. How sad and disheartening. They had the world at their feet and all they did was focus on themselves.

Hector let himself further into the office, sitting in a chair without waiting for invitation. He sat the file on Zander's desk and leaned back, crossing his legs and clasping his hands together in his lap.

He looked at the young man steadily, not blinking. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm your brother."

Hector didn't see an point in beating around the bush with the subject. It would be easier just to say it instead of hinting at it or being nice. They were brothers, best to be blunt. "My mother gave you up for adoption when you were born."

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

"Tormei, Hector Tormei. Mayor."

He blinked a bit. The mayor of the city was here to see him. He honestly felt like pulling the picture off the wall he had taken with the mayor to show the man he clearly was not. The other mayor had something wrong with his arm. He kinda creeped the heck out of Zander. This new mayor, if that’s who he was, wasn’t much better that way.

Before he could offer, the new mayor wandered in and sat down in one of his leather chairs, making himself as comfortable as Zander figured he was apt to by leaning back, crossing his legs and clasping his hands together in his lap. He set down the file he had been carrying, clearly leaving it there for Zander. This meeting just got more and more confusing.

Zander glanced up and met the other man’s eyes, seeing how the other man just stared at him, like he was studying him. His mother did that sometimes, and it drove him absolutely up the wall and -

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm your brother. My mother gave you up for adoption when you were born."

"...." He opened his mouth, but nothing seemed to want to magically come out to make him look competent. So he closed it.

Zander wasn’t sure what to make of that. There were people who knew he was looking for his brother, but his brother...this...if it was a joke, it wasn’t funny. He leaned back in his own chair, studying the man, trying to pick out anything they had in common. Aside from the height, there was nothing. They didn’t even look like they came from the same nationalities, let alone the same parents.

“I’m sorry, I...we’re brothers?” Zander asked, clearly not understanding. “I...you’re...how old are you?”

Well, if this was supposedly his twin brother, should they not be the same age? This man looked so much older, like he had been through a life time and back. And his mother. Their mother...he knew her?

Oh, he needed that coffee...or something a lot stronger.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

When Zander barely managed to open his mouth and gape like a fish for a moment, Hector rolled his eyes. Lovely, a moron. This was just getting better and better. Add it to the blond's frankly lost expression and Hector felt a small twinge of pride. At least he was intelligent. Looks were useless if you had the personality and intelligence of an eraser.

Hector took comfort in the fact that his seemingly perfect brother was just as flawed as he had hoped he'd be.

“I’m sorry, I...we’re brothers? I...you’re...how old are you?”

Hector sighed, feeling a headache coming on already. Was this really so confusing and difficult to grasp?

"Yes, we're brothers. No, I'm not your twin. That's Percival. I'm your older brother, the one dear mother decided to keep." Hector smiled, a perversion of kindness. "I'm 45, since you asked, not that it matters."

Hector nodded to the file. "It's all in there."

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

"Yes, we're brothers. No, I'm not your twin. That's Percival. I'm your older brother, the one dear mother decided to keep. I'm 45, since you asked, not that it matters."

Zander nodded, guessing that would make more sense. He could have had older or younger siblings. Who was he to know? He had barely found out he had a twin a few years ago, and about all the headway he’d managed to make was get a hold of his own records and the birth certificate of his twin, which was no help when you were given the name of an adoptive family. Zander’s own certificate did not match his name, after all. It was important to his family that there was another Zander to carry on the name, and he was grateful to them for it.

Hector nodded to the file. "It's all in there."

Zander managed to nod again, picking up the file folder. It was crisp and new in his hands. He resisted the urge to open it for a long moment.

“I apologise. It’s not every day my entire world shifts like this,” Zander told him, opening the file. “I was aware of a twin, but nothing more...It’s a bit of a shock.”

Hector was right. It was all there – paper work on his adoption, and that of Percival. Percival? What an awful name. Percy, maybe. Their parents were listed, and even Hector was listed in the family report the social worker had made. It was everything he’d been looking for handed to him on a silver platter. But it was just paper work. What he wanted was so much more. He had so many questions. Why didn’t their parents want him and Percy? What were their parents like? Did they had more siblings? What was Hector’s life like? Was he married? Kids?

He reached for his phone, bringing it to his ear, and pressing the button that got the front desk. “Janice, tell Jeffry that if he values his job, I won’t be disturbed until he hears otherwise.”

He placed the phone back, leaning back in his chair a bit. He looked back over at his brother, wondering where to start. All he knew was that he really wanted a drink.

“We have a lot to talk about. Can I offer you a scotch?”

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

“I apologise. It’s not every day my entire world shifts like this. I was aware of a twin, but nothing more...It’s a bit of a shock.”

Hector gave a small nod, signalling that, even though he didn't like his excuse, he would accept it. He waited as Zander looked through the file, glancing around his office. At least his brother did well for himself. Getting a position like this one actually took some work. No matter how powerful his parents had been, CEO wasn't just passed down for sentimental reasons.

So maybe he wasn't as big of a idiot as Hector first assumed.

Picking at his nails, Hector waited for him to finish. This was boring.

“We have a lot to talk about. Can I offer you a scotch?”

"I don't drink when it's still light out." Hector answered with a small wave of his hand. "And ask away. I would say I have things to ask you, but I don't."

Hector shifted and pulled an article out of his coat pocket. "Being a CEO, your entire life is in print somewhere." He unfolded the paper and waved it around. "This is yours. I know your life, I'm not curious about anything."

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

"I don't drink when it's still light out. And ask away. I would say I have things to ask you, but I don't."

Zander studied the other man for a long moment. Really, there was nothing he wanted to know about him? He didn’t want to know about how he’d grown up with a mother and father who loved him, sisters who he adored, all the things he’d seen and done...? Perhaps Zander had built it up in his own mind, envisioning how he would have wanted meeting his brother to go. He’d envisioned they would connect more. He and Hector were blood. Blood was supposed to mean something, wasn’t it? He wanted to know about the man. He wanted to hear about what the life he could have had was like.

He stood up and walked over to where he kept the liquor, feeling like he needed something a bit more southern than Scotch. The bourbon winked up at him as it caught the light. He took a moment to pour it into a glass, tempted to just heft the bottle. Even if he had been back in the south, his Mama would have smacked him if he decided to just drink straight from the bottle, though, so he refrained for her sake.

He watched as Hector shifted and pulled what looked to be a printed article out of his pocket.

"Being a CEO, your entire life is in print somewhere. This is yours. I know your life, I'm not curious about anything."

Hector waved it like it was unimportant. His life was unimportant to this man. His life was unimportant to his brother.

Zander mentally closed down his feelings, shifting his mindset to the way he would handle business. He forced himself to take a long sip of his drink and sat back down at the desk, slipping a hand down to the button in his desk drawer that would record the conversation - a nifty little toy only Jeffry and the installation company were aware of. He couldn’t imagine remembering anything Hector would have to tell him, especially if he was cutting off his emotions, and he did not want to have to call the man to clarify things later.

“I have a few questions,” Zander replied. “I read that our parents died. What were they like? Also, do we have any extended family I should know about? Illnesses? Family vendettas...?"

He voiced it in the same tone he would conduct business, hoping to get whatever information he could out of Hector, and then he could go back to pretending it was just him, his Mama, and the girls until he was over whatever hurt Hector had just dealt him.

"You know, the life changing stuff?" He huffed in amusment, knowing that wouldn't be anything as shocking as the life changing event he'd had when Hector laid his life on him.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector didn't looked at Zander when he got himself a drink. He looked like he was at his wit's end and secretly, Hector loved that. It was the least he could do for his dear brother.

“I have a few questions. I read that our parents died. What were they like? Also, do we have any extended family I should know about? Illnesses? Family vendettas...?"

Hector laughed lowly and bitterly. This golden boy would be in for a shock. He probably wanted to hear about how mother made pies on Sunday and how father would take him to the ballpark and how they scraped by but didn't have much money.

"Well, my old man was addicted to the bottle. He used to beat the shit out of my mom, then when she had me, I took the beatings for her and she never objected. Mom was a weak, submissive drone who lied out of her ass for the sake of her husband." Hector crossed his arms. "I got beat so hard that I can't remember most of my childhood. They both died when I was a teenager. The only thing you got to look out for is becoming a self destructive asshole." Hector nodded to Zander's drink. "So don't get too comfortable with that."

"You know, the life changing stuff?"

"You got out. That's as life-changing as you can get with this family."

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

Zander watched Hector over his glass, listening as he laughed bitterly. Well, that wasn’t a good start, especially with the conversation the pair were having.

"Well, my old man was addicted to the bottle. He used to beat the shit out of my mom, then when she had me, I took the beatings for her and she never objected. Mom was a weak, submissive drone who lied out of her ass for the sake of her husband."

Zander caught himself before he could respond. In the south, men were raised to never talk ill about their mothers. They were raised to respect them, protect them, and above else love them despite their faults. Hector didn’t love their mother. From the sounds of it, she didn’t love him much, either, but she didn’t deserve his scorn.

“I got beat so hard that I can't remember most of my childhood. They both died when I was a teenager. The only thing you got to look out for is becoming a self destructive asshole." Hector nodded at the bourbon in his hand purposefully. "So don't get too comfortable with that."

Zander looked down at his drink. He was raised in a house where sitting on the porch with a drink was acceptable, another with dinner was expected, and any business was finished with a bottle of port. It was something social. He’d only been drunk in his wild teen years, then after each major girlfriend left. He had never made a habit of it. His mother wouldn’t stand for it. As for self destructing...there were too many people who needed him not to. He’d been raised with a responsibility that was still his, even if he was born a Tormei.

"You got out. That's as life-changing as you can get with this family."

From the sounds of it, he really had.

“Nature verses Nurture,” Zander replied, running a finger along the rim of his glass. “Devereuxs do not self destruct, nor do we turn into assholes. I’ll be just fine.”

It was what he had to believe if he were from the same gene pool as a man who would hurt his brother like that. Christ, he couldn’t even remember parts of his childhood because of the beatings...

“I take it that you don’t remember Percival or me then.” It was a statement rather than a question. "Because of our father."

If their father were alive, they would be having words that involved fists. It was wrong to do that to anyone, let alone a child.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Wile Zander processed everything, Hector felt himself relax, almost like a weight was lifted from him. He had never confessed his past so bluntly to anyone, he usually glazed over it. He had memory loss do to an accident he had as a child, he lived in the ghetto so he got into a lot of fights, ect. But, in the face of a new brother, Hector found it easy to just let it all out.

Zander Devereux wouldn't sell his dirty past to the press so he wasn't worried about it. A high powered CEO being adopted and living an active lie was far more damaging than a mayor who was abused as a child. If anything, Hector's pathetic past would endear him to the public even more.

Never the less, it was nice and cathartic to share his poor life, even if it was done in two breaths and under a minute.

Liberation was funny that way.

“Nature verses Nurture. Devereuxs do not self destruct, nor do we turn into assholes. I’ll be just fine.”

"Addiction can sneak up on you. That's what makes it so dangerous."

“I take it that you don’t remember Percival or me then. Because of our father."

Hector shook his head. "I don't remember anything. There's a bad, hazy period for me in my memory where I can only remember one or two things. 6 to 13. Most of it's completely gone."

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

Zander was still appalled by Hector’s story. He was a child. His hands itched to touch his head. He had something wrong with the association part of his brain and briefly wondered if he could blame their father for that, too. He wanted to really process it all before he let himself go down that road, though. He studied Hector, wondering how many people knew about this. He had the feeling it was a small number and was grateful the man had shared with him. It couldn’t have been easy, even if Zander needed to know. This could have been his life. They could have shared this.

"Addiction can sneak up on you. That's what makes it so dangerous."

He shrugged. He had no addictions. He never took to smoking, and drugs weren’t something he was ever going to do again after that one time he was so high he thought he was a cat. Even his sex drive had slowed once he’d taken on Devereux Industries. The only thing that could sneak up on him was bourbon. He hoped to god above that it never did. It was a friend.

"I don't remember anything. There's a bad, hazy period for me in my memory where I can only remember one or two things. 6 to 13. Most of its completely gone."

“God, Hector...” he shook his head, taking another sip of his drink.

What did you say to that? He was sorry his brother went through that, he really was, but to say it would sound false. How could he possibly know what a life like that was like? Hector was right – his mother loved him enough to get rid of him. He’d been spared, Hector had been damaged. Zander remembered every day of his life from six to thirteen years. He couldn’t imagine having so much time just...gone. Had he been given up with Percy and himself, he would have had a chance at least.

And he couldn’t say he wished things were different. He did, but it would be lip service. So he settled on the one thing he knew wasn’t any of the above.

“I hope that son of a bitch didn’t go quickly.”

And he meant it, too. There was a special place in hell for people who hit kids.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

“I hope that son of a bitch didn’t go quickly.”

"He went faster than I would have wanted." Hector tightened his hands to a fist. He wanted to make that bastard suffer but he never got the chance. If he had been the one to end his miserable, pathetic life it would have been slow. His father would have screamed until his voice gave out and Hector would have kept going. There would have been blood, there would have been pain, and his father would have suffered at the hands of the monster he created.

Hector glanced at his watch then at Zander, standing briskly and brushing his suit off. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. If you want to have another chat, make an appointment through my office. Welcome to the family, brother."

Hector nodded to Zander and headed for the door. He was ready to work for a few hours then take a break for a nice stiff drink.

[ZANDER “ZEUS” DEVEREUX]

"He went faster than I would have wanted."

Zander could imagine that nothing would have been slow enough for all Hector’s suffering. From the look on his face, he was sure there were several things Hector would have liked to have done to have helped him along there. Hector balled his hands into tight fists for a moment and they eventually relaxed. He quickly glanced from his watch to Zander. He blinked when Hector stood and brushed off his suit, looking like he was prepared to leave.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer. If you want to have another chat, make an appointment through my office. Welcome to the family, brother."

And before he could reply, Hector was headed to the door.

“Thank you, Hector – brother,” he corrected hastily.

The moment the door closed, Zander finished off the glass of bourbon and poured another one, getting to his feet so he could wander around the room.

“Welcome to the family? He didn’t sound like he wanted me in the family. He...We don’t even look alike!”

Zander ran a hand through his hair, unable to stop talking. He was a verbal processor, had been since he’d discovered what words were. His employees thought it was a slight touch of crazy, but who cared what they thought. Now was as good a time as any to look crazy.

“Then why was he here? Honestly, he could have ignored me and I would have never known he existed. Heck, I thought Ricky was still mayor for Christ sakes...I’m going to have to talk to him about that. I should be in the know.”

He took another sip from his glass, thinking he had gone through far too much for one day. There was too much new information to process. Everything he’d had planned for the day was going to have to wait until tomorrow, or maybe next week when he could focus on it.

“I just...wish he seemed interested at least. If I’d known about him, I would have been ecstatic.” he took another sip, pacing the office, glaring at the gator painting on the wall. The thing made him paranoid. He was convinced it was going to jump out and eat him some day. “Well, if he’s not interested, two can play that game.”

He walked back over to his desk, remembering to turn off the recording, not believing anything else that could be said would be worth recording. He picked up the phone off his desk, pressing the button for his secretary. Hillary or Judy or something...

“Rhonda? Cancel my afternoon and make a reservation at the steak house for seven; my usual table. Call Ex-Mayor Richard and invite him. Tell him I won’t accept no for an answer.”

He hung up the phone, pressing the most used button on the console, hoping that if he valued his job, Jeffry would be at his desk. The hurried greeting made Zander half smirk. That was better.

“Jeffry. Cancel the coffee and call for the car. I want a change of scenery. While I’m gone, I have a research project for you.”

He had Hector’s papers on his desk, but he never accepted information without back tracking it. He wanted to know everything – especially about their parents and how they died. And once he had that researched, he wanted to know about Percy or Perry or whatever his twin was called. It wasn’t a project he’d hand off to just anyone. Jeffry would find every piece of information out there about his birth family, and he would be discrete, seeing as how Zander still had pictures from the office Christmas party that Jeffry would not want blown up on a billboard on Times Square. And yes, he had done similar things before, so it was a valid incentive.

He was Zander Devereux, after all. He was rich, powerful, and devastatingly handsome, no matter whom he was born to. He always got what he wanted, how he wanted it. He'd just have to hold onto that and nothing could bring him down, not even Hector's less than warm welcome to the family.