Dustland Fairytale fic: Where the Wind Don't Blow and the Good Girls Die
Quite some time ago bewize showed me this video because she thought it might inspire my writing. It worked. When she started talking about requesting it for Yuletide, I knew I wanted to give it a try. It ended up being one of my favorites of my stories this year, which was a pleasant surprise. It was also the first story I wrote this year that made me want to cry. Heartbreaking threesomes for the win. (The second new fandom of Yuletide; Make It or Break It was first.) I also got to do some really fun research on time appropriate language.
Title: Where the Wind Don't Blow and the Good Girls Die
Author: escritoireazul
Written for: bewize for Yuletide 2010
Rating: 13+
Word Count: 2400+
Author's Note: This is a transformative work of fiction for the music video Dustland Fairytale by The Killers
Summary: The decades disappeared like sinking ships, but finally Joey has come home.
He looked just like you'd want him to
Some kind of slick chrome American Prince
A blue jean serenade and moon river, what you do to me
“A Dustland Fairytale” The Killers
When the knock came at her door, Annie wasn’t ready to swing it open and find Joey waiting on her doorstep in a blue jean coat, his face worn by time and dust on his boots. Her heart clenched and her breath caught in her throat; in an instant, less than the space of a heartbeat, she was Barbara Anne again, sixteen and gloriously, dizzyingly in love.
One heartbeat more and she was seventeen, Billy’s blood warm and slippery on her fingers as she pressed her hands against the wound and felt his life bleed out beneath her touch. Seventeen and heartbreakingly in love and the knife fell from Joey’s fingers and when she looked at him, sick and heartsick and terrified, his eyes were wide and his mouth open.
He didn’t believe it either, no more’n she did, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Billy dead and his blood on both their hands.
***
Barbara Anne’s a pretty girl with brown hair and big eyes and a smile so bright it shines. Momma and Daddy think she’s a good girl too, pretty on the inside as the out, because they raised her right, Bible stories and fairy tales, and she’s waiting for her prince.
The back wall of the ice cream shop is covered in mirror, opposite the big front window, and as she sits at the counter with Mary and Carolyn sipping her malted and giggling like good girls do, all the while she watches the street outside in the mirror. It’s too early for the boys to be out drag racing, but sometimes she catches a glimpse of their cars, all pretty colored metal and chrome.
Barbara Anne kicks her heels against her stool, her skirt swishing with the movement, and twirls her straw in her glass. Mary and Carolyn eye her and don’t hide their smiles, because they think they know who she’s waiting for.
It’s a good day. Billy cruises by all nice and slow, his arm in the window, one hand on the wheel. As he passes, he turns to look at the soda shop as if he knows she’s watching, as if he can see her even with the setting sun reflecting off the window.
Barbara Anne gets a little thrill right down to her toes and watches until she can’t see him in the mirror anymore. She swings her legs a little harder then, and wiggles her hips in her seat just ‘cause she can.
“That Billy sure does have a choice car,” Carolyn says.
On her other side, Mary leans forward so she can see around her to Barbara Anne. Her light sweater tightens as she moves and her golden curls bounce with her excitement. She’s got gossip to share.
Sure enough, “Did you hear he chose-off Frankie for pinks last night?” How Mary knows everything important that happens in town, Barbara Anne still hasn’t figured out, but she’s glad Mary’s one of her best girlfriends.
“I thought the Sevens don't race Billy’s boys anymore.” Carolyn slurps the last of her malted and pushes away her glass. “Aren’t they supposed to be friends now?”
“Oh, that truce is old news.” Mary shakes her head. “The Sevens are out to get whatever wins they can against Billy and his boys. Bet they're steamed Frankie lost last night.”
Barbara Anne’s smile wavers. She’s had a twisting worry lately, but she thought maybe it was just because if her momma and daddy knew what she was up to with Joey and Billy, they’d go ape.
She’s been hoping the boys are fine when they aren't with her, but maybe she’s wrong.
Carolyn puts her arm around Barbara Anne and gives her a squeeze. If Mary knows everything that happens, Carolyn always knows exactly what Barbara Anne needs and when.
“Come on, Mary.” Carolyn hops off her stool, pulling Barbara Anne after her. “Earl’s coming ‘round tonight and you two gotta help me get ready.”
Once they’re outside, she slips one arm through Barbara Anne’s and the other through Mary’s, pulling them close. It’s so easy for them, and Barbara Anne really doesn’t understand why the boys think it’s such a big deal if anyone sees them touch in public, when in private, she’s seen them meet in kisses so harsh they steal her breath.
Maybe that’s why they’re up to causing trouble again. If they’re racing for pinks and playing chicken, no one will guess their secret. She tries to be positive and makes herself cheerful. After all, the sun is shining and the air is warm and she’s walking side by side with her two best girls, their skirts swishing and their laughter riding high.
***
The expression on Joey’s face when he took his first drink of her coffee -- his eyes closed and he smiled, and in the lines and scars of his face, she could see the boy he had been -- broke Annie’s heart. She sat across from him, her coffee untouched in front of her. Her fingers shook every time she reached for it, so she tucked them under her thighs instead.
He was always the quiet one -- out of the three of them, Billy was the talker -- but he now was even more reticent than she expected. She had thought about him over the years, particularly when she paid her respects at Billy’s grave. Sometimes she considered visiting Joey at the prison, or maybe sending him a letter, but at first she only had angry accusations and horrified questions and then the ache of missing him and then no words at all.
Though she liked the silence, part of her wanted him to say something, anything, so they could face what they needed to face. She glanced out the window at the riot of colors in her backyard garden, and when she looked back, she found him watching her.
He set down his coffee cup.
“Barbara Anne,” and just the sound of his voice saying her name like that made her chest hurt, “would you go for a ride with me?”
That wasn’t quite the last thing she expected him to say, but it was close. She stared at him a moment, speechless, and then a reckless urge swept over her and she stood. He watched her, his expression startlingly vulnerable, hope so clear she wanted to warn him away from revealing so much.
“I’d like that,” she said instead.
He smiled real slow, but finally it was the smile she remembered best.
***
Barbara Anne cuddles closer to Joey and stretches her legs across Billy’s lap. Joey’s right arm is around her. He’s holding the cigarette in his left hand, and every time he takes a drag, he offers it to her after. Billy’s smoking too, and his left arm is draped across her legs.
“Sunset’s pretty tonight. Weather’s nice too.”
Joey doesn’t quite laugh, but she can hear it sort of rumbling around in his chest, but she doesn’t mind. Maybe it’s boring talk, but she likes it when they’re quiet like this, away from the Sevens and Billy’s boys and her friends and her family. They’re best alone together. No one else understands.
They’re in Joey’s car and the radio’s turned low, but they’re not really listening. The sun is warm and the air smells like dry grass and cigarette smoke. Everyone expects them to cruise later, show up and show off, but it’s really hard to keep their secret in public like that. No matter whose car Barbara Anne rides in, people gossip.
She still hasn’t talked to Joey about what Mary said. Billy’s as calm as ever, his body languid, but sometimes Joey seems on edge and his arm tightens around her. She blames the Sevens. They’re always putting bad thoughts in Joey’s head, riling him up until his temper explodes. Billy’s good at calming him down, but the Sevens don’t like him much.
If they try to make Billy the bad guy, surely Joey won’t listen.
Barbara Anne tilts her head up for a kiss, convincing herself. Joey’s got a temper all right, but he’s a good guy, she knows he is. He’ll learn to control it. Billy’s good at helping him with that. She is too.
The three of them are better together, and they can survive anything.
***
His car was beautiful, of course, an old Plymouth that needed a good wash and polish, but beneath the dust she could see the potential. He always did love pretty cars. She used to spend hours with him and his car, watching him polish the chrome a lifetime ago. Her body wouldn’t bend the way it used to, so her feet were flat on the floor and not tucked up on the seat, but she stroked her hand across the leather.
“Do you mind?” Joey lifted his crumpled pack of cigarettes.
“Not if I can have one.”
Joey nodded, and handed her one first. “Thought you would have quit by now.”
She plucked the lighter from the seat before he could reach for it, the metal of it cool between her fingers. They idled in front of the house as she leaned over and flicked the Zippo to life. He watched her above it for a moment, the flame reflected in his dark eyes, and then let her light his cigarette.
He waited until she lit hers too before he shifted into gear.
With the windows down, warm air whipped around them. Annie dangled her right arm along the outside of the door and smoked with her left, reaching across her body to flick ash into the wind.
She thought about asking where they were going, but then a lifetime of rules and deadlines and schedules stripped away. Once, Joey’s car meant freedom to her, and she tipped back her head, not caring where they went or when they stopped.
Joey stepped on the gas and the car shot forward, smooth and fast.
Sure are bookin’ it, she thought, a smile pushing at the corner of her lips, and pushed her feet into the floorboard.
***
The problem is Daddy likes Billy best. He’s not really fond of either of them, but he and Billy talk about baseball because Billy’s daddy used to play. Joey’s daddy’s not around and never has been. Daddy says it’s bad for a boy to grow up without a man around the house and that’s why Joey’s so hell bent on proving himself. Proving himself to what, Daddy never says.
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a problem if Billy didn’t have his boys. Joey’s a Seven sure enough, but he’s not in charge. Somehow Billy worked his way to the top of his gang and when Joey pushes him to find out how, he doesn’t have much to say. It’s because he doesn’t know, Billy’s just like that, makes people listen to what he has to say, but Joey doesn’t understand that and Joey’s jealous.
Sometimes, Joey kisses her so hard her lips hurt after and she has marks where his fingers dig into her shoulders. He’s desperate and it scares her. She tries hard to tease him back into a good mood when it happens, and mostly she can, but she worries about Joey and his temper and how much he wants to make the Sevens take notice.
***
The sun was low in the sky and they were in the middle of nowhere when Joey finally stopped and turned off the car. Maybe Annie should have been scared, but she’d survived a lot already and once she had trusted Joey with everything.
She’d trusted him and he did wrong.
Annie finished her last cigarette and stubbed it out in the make-shift ashtray.
“Barbara Anne, I’m sorry.” Joey’s voice was low and it cracked a little at the end. She stared straight ahead at the mountains that rose up before them, very careful not to look at him. Dust swirled in the distance, and the wind carried it closer. “I know saying it ain’t enough, but I am. I hate myself for what I did.”
Tears pricked Annie’s eyes and her throat tightened until it was hard to breathe.
“I just wanted to beat him.” Annie shut her eyes, struck by the memory of Joey’s knife sliding home. “I just wanted to win for once. Make a name for myself. I didn’t think the knives would come out.”
He fell silent, probably waiting for her response, but she had absolutely nothing to say to that. Her stomach churned and she pressed her hand to it. She hadn’t been stabbed, there was no scar there to find, but sometimes she expected to feel it, raised tissue to stroke her fingers across.
“I killed him.” Joey’s voice broke into a choked-off sound. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Annie opened her eyes, then blinked hard to try to clear the tears. She stole a quick glance at him. He wasn’t obviously crying, but she could see the shine at the corners of his eyes.
As she turned away, the sun bounced off the chrome side mirror and dazzled her. It was a familiar flash and the tightness in her chest loosened. She blinked again and her vision cleared.
Joey’s hands rested on his thighs, clenched into fists. She expected him to hit the steering wheel at any moment, but he didn’t, all his fire and fury tempered now. Annie opened and closed her hand for a moment, but finally reached for him and rested her fingers lightly on his.
He swallowed hard, and again, and finally turned his hand beneath hers until they were palm to palm and their fingers slipped together like a whisper.
The wind kicked up harder, rattling dust against the windshield. Annie glanced toward it and in the mirror, caught a flicker of the shadows that, strangely, reminded her of the way Billy used to grin and run his hand through his hair while he watched them.
They sat like that a long time, until the sun set, leaving them surrounded by an ocean of dust and darkness, the Plymouth their oasis from the world.
***
Mama and Daddy think Barbara Anne’s a good girl, but it’s not true. Good girls die young, but she’s left here alive and all alone. She sits on her bed and stares through the window without seeing the sunshine or the green trees or any piece of the living world, just bloodstains on her hands and the glitter of a knife.
Change came in disguise of revelation, set his soul on fire
She says she always knew he'd come around
And the decades disappear like sinking ships
But we persevere, God gives us hope
But we still fear what we don't know
“A Dustland Fairytale” The Killers
This entry was original posted at http://escritoireazul.dreamwidth.org/316956.html with
comments. Reply here or there.
Title: Where the Wind Don't Blow and the Good Girls Die
Author: escritoireazul
Written for: bewize for Yuletide 2010
Rating: 13+
Word Count: 2400+
Author's Note: This is a transformative work of fiction for the music video Dustland Fairytale by The Killers
Summary: The decades disappeared like sinking ships, but finally Joey has come home.
He looked just like you'd want him to
Some kind of slick chrome American Prince
A blue jean serenade and moon river, what you do to me
“A Dustland Fairytale” The Killers
When the knock came at her door, Annie wasn’t ready to swing it open and find Joey waiting on her doorstep in a blue jean coat, his face worn by time and dust on his boots. Her heart clenched and her breath caught in her throat; in an instant, less than the space of a heartbeat, she was Barbara Anne again, sixteen and gloriously, dizzyingly in love.
One heartbeat more and she was seventeen, Billy’s blood warm and slippery on her fingers as she pressed her hands against the wound and felt his life bleed out beneath her touch. Seventeen and heartbreakingly in love and the knife fell from Joey’s fingers and when she looked at him, sick and heartsick and terrified, his eyes were wide and his mouth open.
He didn’t believe it either, no more’n she did, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Billy dead and his blood on both their hands.
***
Barbara Anne’s a pretty girl with brown hair and big eyes and a smile so bright it shines. Momma and Daddy think she’s a good girl too, pretty on the inside as the out, because they raised her right, Bible stories and fairy tales, and she’s waiting for her prince.
The back wall of the ice cream shop is covered in mirror, opposite the big front window, and as she sits at the counter with Mary and Carolyn sipping her malted and giggling like good girls do, all the while she watches the street outside in the mirror. It’s too early for the boys to be out drag racing, but sometimes she catches a glimpse of their cars, all pretty colored metal and chrome.
Barbara Anne kicks her heels against her stool, her skirt swishing with the movement, and twirls her straw in her glass. Mary and Carolyn eye her and don’t hide their smiles, because they think they know who she’s waiting for.
It’s a good day. Billy cruises by all nice and slow, his arm in the window, one hand on the wheel. As he passes, he turns to look at the soda shop as if he knows she’s watching, as if he can see her even with the setting sun reflecting off the window.
Barbara Anne gets a little thrill right down to her toes and watches until she can’t see him in the mirror anymore. She swings her legs a little harder then, and wiggles her hips in her seat just ‘cause she can.
“That Billy sure does have a choice car,” Carolyn says.
On her other side, Mary leans forward so she can see around her to Barbara Anne. Her light sweater tightens as she moves and her golden curls bounce with her excitement. She’s got gossip to share.
Sure enough, “Did you hear he chose-off Frankie for pinks last night?” How Mary knows everything important that happens in town, Barbara Anne still hasn’t figured out, but she’s glad Mary’s one of her best girlfriends.
“I thought the Sevens don't race Billy’s boys anymore.” Carolyn slurps the last of her malted and pushes away her glass. “Aren’t they supposed to be friends now?”
“Oh, that truce is old news.” Mary shakes her head. “The Sevens are out to get whatever wins they can against Billy and his boys. Bet they're steamed Frankie lost last night.”
Barbara Anne’s smile wavers. She’s had a twisting worry lately, but she thought maybe it was just because if her momma and daddy knew what she was up to with Joey and Billy, they’d go ape.
She’s been hoping the boys are fine when they aren't with her, but maybe she’s wrong.
Carolyn puts her arm around Barbara Anne and gives her a squeeze. If Mary knows everything that happens, Carolyn always knows exactly what Barbara Anne needs and when.
“Come on, Mary.” Carolyn hops off her stool, pulling Barbara Anne after her. “Earl’s coming ‘round tonight and you two gotta help me get ready.”
Once they’re outside, she slips one arm through Barbara Anne’s and the other through Mary’s, pulling them close. It’s so easy for them, and Barbara Anne really doesn’t understand why the boys think it’s such a big deal if anyone sees them touch in public, when in private, she’s seen them meet in kisses so harsh they steal her breath.
Maybe that’s why they’re up to causing trouble again. If they’re racing for pinks and playing chicken, no one will guess their secret. She tries to be positive and makes herself cheerful. After all, the sun is shining and the air is warm and she’s walking side by side with her two best girls, their skirts swishing and their laughter riding high.
***
The expression on Joey’s face when he took his first drink of her coffee -- his eyes closed and he smiled, and in the lines and scars of his face, she could see the boy he had been -- broke Annie’s heart. She sat across from him, her coffee untouched in front of her. Her fingers shook every time she reached for it, so she tucked them under her thighs instead.
He was always the quiet one -- out of the three of them, Billy was the talker -- but he now was even more reticent than she expected. She had thought about him over the years, particularly when she paid her respects at Billy’s grave. Sometimes she considered visiting Joey at the prison, or maybe sending him a letter, but at first she only had angry accusations and horrified questions and then the ache of missing him and then no words at all.
Though she liked the silence, part of her wanted him to say something, anything, so they could face what they needed to face. She glanced out the window at the riot of colors in her backyard garden, and when she looked back, she found him watching her.
He set down his coffee cup.
“Barbara Anne,” and just the sound of his voice saying her name like that made her chest hurt, “would you go for a ride with me?”
That wasn’t quite the last thing she expected him to say, but it was close. She stared at him a moment, speechless, and then a reckless urge swept over her and she stood. He watched her, his expression startlingly vulnerable, hope so clear she wanted to warn him away from revealing so much.
“I’d like that,” she said instead.
He smiled real slow, but finally it was the smile she remembered best.
***
Barbara Anne cuddles closer to Joey and stretches her legs across Billy’s lap. Joey’s right arm is around her. He’s holding the cigarette in his left hand, and every time he takes a drag, he offers it to her after. Billy’s smoking too, and his left arm is draped across her legs.
“Sunset’s pretty tonight. Weather’s nice too.”
Joey doesn’t quite laugh, but she can hear it sort of rumbling around in his chest, but she doesn’t mind. Maybe it’s boring talk, but she likes it when they’re quiet like this, away from the Sevens and Billy’s boys and her friends and her family. They’re best alone together. No one else understands.
They’re in Joey’s car and the radio’s turned low, but they’re not really listening. The sun is warm and the air smells like dry grass and cigarette smoke. Everyone expects them to cruise later, show up and show off, but it’s really hard to keep their secret in public like that. No matter whose car Barbara Anne rides in, people gossip.
She still hasn’t talked to Joey about what Mary said. Billy’s as calm as ever, his body languid, but sometimes Joey seems on edge and his arm tightens around her. She blames the Sevens. They’re always putting bad thoughts in Joey’s head, riling him up until his temper explodes. Billy’s good at calming him down, but the Sevens don’t like him much.
If they try to make Billy the bad guy, surely Joey won’t listen.
Barbara Anne tilts her head up for a kiss, convincing herself. Joey’s got a temper all right, but he’s a good guy, she knows he is. He’ll learn to control it. Billy’s good at helping him with that. She is too.
The three of them are better together, and they can survive anything.
***
His car was beautiful, of course, an old Plymouth that needed a good wash and polish, but beneath the dust she could see the potential. He always did love pretty cars. She used to spend hours with him and his car, watching him polish the chrome a lifetime ago. Her body wouldn’t bend the way it used to, so her feet were flat on the floor and not tucked up on the seat, but she stroked her hand across the leather.
“Do you mind?” Joey lifted his crumpled pack of cigarettes.
“Not if I can have one.”
Joey nodded, and handed her one first. “Thought you would have quit by now.”
She plucked the lighter from the seat before he could reach for it, the metal of it cool between her fingers. They idled in front of the house as she leaned over and flicked the Zippo to life. He watched her above it for a moment, the flame reflected in his dark eyes, and then let her light his cigarette.
He waited until she lit hers too before he shifted into gear.
With the windows down, warm air whipped around them. Annie dangled her right arm along the outside of the door and smoked with her left, reaching across her body to flick ash into the wind.
She thought about asking where they were going, but then a lifetime of rules and deadlines and schedules stripped away. Once, Joey’s car meant freedom to her, and she tipped back her head, not caring where they went or when they stopped.
Joey stepped on the gas and the car shot forward, smooth and fast.
Sure are bookin’ it, she thought, a smile pushing at the corner of her lips, and pushed her feet into the floorboard.
***
The problem is Daddy likes Billy best. He’s not really fond of either of them, but he and Billy talk about baseball because Billy’s daddy used to play. Joey’s daddy’s not around and never has been. Daddy says it’s bad for a boy to grow up without a man around the house and that’s why Joey’s so hell bent on proving himself. Proving himself to what, Daddy never says.
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a problem if Billy didn’t have his boys. Joey’s a Seven sure enough, but he’s not in charge. Somehow Billy worked his way to the top of his gang and when Joey pushes him to find out how, he doesn’t have much to say. It’s because he doesn’t know, Billy’s just like that, makes people listen to what he has to say, but Joey doesn’t understand that and Joey’s jealous.
Sometimes, Joey kisses her so hard her lips hurt after and she has marks where his fingers dig into her shoulders. He’s desperate and it scares her. She tries hard to tease him back into a good mood when it happens, and mostly she can, but she worries about Joey and his temper and how much he wants to make the Sevens take notice.
***
The sun was low in the sky and they were in the middle of nowhere when Joey finally stopped and turned off the car. Maybe Annie should have been scared, but she’d survived a lot already and once she had trusted Joey with everything.
She’d trusted him and he did wrong.
Annie finished her last cigarette and stubbed it out in the make-shift ashtray.
“Barbara Anne, I’m sorry.” Joey’s voice was low and it cracked a little at the end. She stared straight ahead at the mountains that rose up before them, very careful not to look at him. Dust swirled in the distance, and the wind carried it closer. “I know saying it ain’t enough, but I am. I hate myself for what I did.”
Tears pricked Annie’s eyes and her throat tightened until it was hard to breathe.
“I just wanted to beat him.” Annie shut her eyes, struck by the memory of Joey’s knife sliding home. “I just wanted to win for once. Make a name for myself. I didn’t think the knives would come out.”
He fell silent, probably waiting for her response, but she had absolutely nothing to say to that. Her stomach churned and she pressed her hand to it. She hadn’t been stabbed, there was no scar there to find, but sometimes she expected to feel it, raised tissue to stroke her fingers across.
“I killed him.” Joey’s voice broke into a choked-off sound. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Annie opened her eyes, then blinked hard to try to clear the tears. She stole a quick glance at him. He wasn’t obviously crying, but she could see the shine at the corners of his eyes.
As she turned away, the sun bounced off the chrome side mirror and dazzled her. It was a familiar flash and the tightness in her chest loosened. She blinked again and her vision cleared.
Joey’s hands rested on his thighs, clenched into fists. She expected him to hit the steering wheel at any moment, but he didn’t, all his fire and fury tempered now. Annie opened and closed her hand for a moment, but finally reached for him and rested her fingers lightly on his.
He swallowed hard, and again, and finally turned his hand beneath hers until they were palm to palm and their fingers slipped together like a whisper.
The wind kicked up harder, rattling dust against the windshield. Annie glanced toward it and in the mirror, caught a flicker of the shadows that, strangely, reminded her of the way Billy used to grin and run his hand through his hair while he watched them.
They sat like that a long time, until the sun set, leaving them surrounded by an ocean of dust and darkness, the Plymouth their oasis from the world.
***
Mama and Daddy think Barbara Anne’s a good girl, but it’s not true. Good girls die young, but she’s left here alive and all alone. She sits on her bed and stares through the window without seeing the sunshine or the green trees or any piece of the living world, just bloodstains on her hands and the glitter of a knife.
Change came in disguise of revelation, set his soul on fire
She says she always knew he'd come around
And the decades disappear like sinking ships
But we persevere, God gives us hope
But we still fear what we don't know
“A Dustland Fairytale” The Killers
This entry was original posted at http://escritoireazul.dreamwidth.org/316956.html with
comments. Reply here or there.