Chapter Text
Dallas, 1973
Swan hasn't seen his cousin in over three years, something that was fairly normal for him since he didn’t really talk retain any contacts from ‘back then’, let alone in this silly city with the hootin’ and the hollerin’ and cowboy culture…most of which was prevalent at the event Little Enos has suggested they met at. 'It's a charity thing me and the big guy are doing at the Enos Ranch' he'd said. 'It'll be right up your alley.'
He looked with disdain at two men close to him on the verge of getting into a fist fight as 'Foggy Mountain Breakdown' played in the background, giving the occasion more of a hootenanny feel then something 'up his alley.'
“I can’t believe this is where you used to live.” Philbin cracked, and Swan gave him a scathing look.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and get whoever's in charge of the music to change it to something that doesn’t make me feel like I’m stuck in the movie Deliverance.”
When he left Swan waved dismissively, looking away and getting back to his thoughts. No, his cousin was different then everyone else he'd left. Like him he rose above his surroundings.
The music changed to a nice rendition of ‘Jambalaya’, but before he could sigh in relief a familiar voice starting whooping and hollering on the other end of the party making it’s way to him.
...Granted his cousin did simultaneously manage to remain firmly a part of his surroundings.
“Oh fuck me.” Swan muttered, lifting program he'd been holding up to his face self consciously as Little Enos elbowed his way through the last couple of folks in his way.
"Step the hell aside, watch it!" He jeered, brightening up when he saw Swan. “Hey don’t act like you don’t see me Cuz!” exclaimed, grabbing his arm and giving him a little shake.
“I’m not, I’m just abhorrent to the possibility of people taking pictures of us together, specifically myself."
“Oh right, you’ve got that weird thing about photography. Don't worry, I'm practically invisible without Big Daddy towerin' over me."
Swan groaned. "I hate that you call your brother that."
"What? It's a nick name. I've called him that since I was in high school, even before we pretended he was my Pop."
"I can't believe you've kept up that freakshow act up all these years, I was hoping you'd grow out of it."
"People get a kick out of it, and it makes the big brother happy alright?"
“Very well.” Swan said haughtily. “But how are you doing, you certainly look like your…I guess aging with grace would be a polite way to put it.”
“Well at least I’m not desperately swinging at it with a surgical knife.” Little Enos shot back as he lit a cigar. “…Though I must give credit where credit is due, you’ve got one hellva guy. Who are they?”
“Just for the rib I’m not gonna tell you. Besides, I don’t think you could afford him.”
The aforementioned haughtiness was replaced with a grimness, something that made him drop the subject. “…We should get going, least we miss the show. Big Daddy say’s we can use his big red Caddy."
“Fantastic.” Swan said flatly.
Despite Swan being reluctant to be in something so tacky he had to admit it was nice, driving through Dallas with the top down so they could enjoy the evening air.
“Christ this city's changed.” Swan said as he looked around. “Though I suppose not so much to you given how you never strayed too far.”
“Oh god, don’t start.” Little Enos grumbled as he watched the road intensely, no doubt related to how 'Big Daddy' had cautioned him to be careful before handing him the keys, a warning that seemed almost laughable to Swan given how if anything deserved to be totaled it was this.
“I can’t help it, we used to always talk about how we were gonna make it big.”
“Wishful thinking to distract us from a dismal situation.” Little Enos said. “…And we can’t all be teenage prodigies.”
“So I was able to make my wishful thinking a reality. I always came back to visit didn’t I?”
“You certainly did. At least once a year, I was surprised. Little homesick for ol’ Dallas?”
“I couldn’t give a shit about Dallas.” Swan said grimly. “It’s like we always said: Cousins stick together.”
“…No matter how far apart.” Little Enos said with a reminiscent smile.
---
1946
Eleven year old Swan sat pouting on the couch as his mother packed boxes, occasionally sighing to get her attention.
"Would you stop that? You should be happy, our ticket finally came in with this new job for your father, in Los Angeles of all places. It's a new era!"
"But it's so far away." Swan whined.
"It'll be good, I promise."
there was a banging on the screen door, Little Enos staring through the mesh. He was four years younger then Swan but they were still best friends.
"...Can we take him at the very least?" Swan asked weakly, and his mother chuckled.
"I don't think your aunt would be very happy about that."
"What's it matter what she thinks?" Swan demanded.
"...Here's some money, why don't you boy's go see a movie?" She said instead of answering that troubling question.
They rode down to the theater on their bikes, with Little Enos as per usual talking a mile a minute, today in particular partially on the new Charlie Chaplin movie playing though mostly about his older brother.
"I tell you..." He said as the chained their bikes up. "I'd like to kick his ass, just once."
"He's bigger then you, plus he's on the football team." Swan pointed out.
"Well still, I'd like to do it." The seven old insisted.
As they watched the film, he could feel Enos squirming in the seat beside him as they watched the movie, this one in particular about a black widower, and could sense he might not be enjoying it.
Sure enough, when they exited the ornate theater into the bright sun he proclaimed: "That was horrible! Murdering nice old ladies for their money..."
"Oh it wasn't that bad-" Swan insisted. "It's a comedy, just a joke."
"But what if it was my Mama, or yours?"
"Those woman were gold digging succubuses, you can't feel too sorry for them." Swan shrugged it off.
"I guess." Little Enos relented.
Swan sighed. "Listen, there's something I gotta tell you."
"Is it about you movin' away?" Little Enos asked.
"Yeah how'd you know?"
"Mama told me, I was hoping it wasn't true."
Swan sighed, shaking his head. "No, it is."
"Maybe you could just stay here?" Little Enos said hopefully, but Swan burst out laughing at that.
"Stay here? And what, live with you, in the same house as that stinky brother of yours? No thanks." Enos wilted a bit at that, so Swan flashed him a reassuring smile.
"...I'll visit, alright? Often as I can, at least every summer."
"Really?" Little Enos asked skeptically.
"Of course." Swan said. "Cousin's stick together, no matter how far apart."
Later Little Enos was sitting on the back steps, sniffling to himself. He looked up alarm when the back door opened, scowling when he saw it was his older brother as he swiped at his face with dirty little fists. "What do you want?"
"Nothin', I just saw you sittin' all alone out here, figured you'd want to talk." He said as he sat beside him. "That you'd be upset about your friend moving away."
"What do you care?" Little Enos snapped. "You never liked him."
"No, I always thought the s.o.b. was creepy, don't ask me why. But I know you like him, and that counts for something. I uh..." He laughed uncomfortably. "I know I haven't been a very good brother, but I'm here for you alright?"
"Alright." Little Enos said quietly.
There was a long silence between them and his brother huffed nervously, starting to get up. "Well, you probably want me to go-"
"No!" Little Enos quickly said. "I mean, I wouldn't mind you sitting with me for a bit."
"Okay." His brother said, siting back down with a smirk. "We can do that."