Fisher Hawkins
The small talk of it all was embarrassing. He was deeply saddened but when asked of his relationship to Nick, Fish could barely say a word. His hands were constantly in his pockets, perhaps stealing a bit too much of the cheese and crackers and fumbling over his words too often. For the first person that asked, Fisher had spilled half a life story, about Lilah, about meeting Nick, about what a dazzling guy he was. For the last, Fisher murmured that he was an old friend.
It took him too long to notice Delilah's absence. In his defense, a distant cousin had approached him and tears had welled in her eyes. Poor Jasmine remembered playing with him as a child and regretted not befriending him further. Consoling the girl took some time and only afterwards did he notice she was gone.
A sinking feeling fell upon him. It wasn't unlike her to slip away for a moment of silence, but.. Something felt wrong. Heading down a corner that felt protected from the murmurs of the parlor's main room, he found a face he wished he would never have to see ever again.
With steps quiet as the night Fisher grabbed Solomon's shoulder, digging his fingers into his suit. His other hand was gloved, a silent threat.
"Get out of here, Lil. I can handle him." Fish growled.
His lip splitting into a grin, Solomon kept her eyes trained on Delilah, his fingers curled around her wrist as he shook his head, "...You brought him to the funeral? That's kind of weird, isn't it, Lil? What will people think?"
Gaze twitching ever so slightly to the hand on his shoulder, they flickered back to Delilah, with an unimpressed air. Still, his fingers uncurled, as he released her, "I'm done with her. She can go…"
"I'm not leaving, Fish…" She breathed, shakily.
"Yes you are. Because you know what I'll do if you don't."
Cheeks blanched, Delilah looked to Fisher, then back to Solomon, "...I'm not going far." And with a frown, she bypassed the pair, to slip out of the small sitting room.
Slowly, hands raised at his sides, Solomon turned around, "...Good to see ya, Trout. Been too long."
"Don't call me that." Fisher spat. "I'm not your friend. What are you doing here, Solomon? What else do you fucking want from us?" His hands balled at his sides. "At a damn funeral, no less. You've got no decency left." Though his face was cold, his eyes burned with rage. "Leave her alone. Leave us alone. We don't need anything to do with you."
"Ouch. Won't pretend that doesn't hurt…" Breathing in, he shook his head, "But you know as well as I do, I can't do that. Not when I'm so close to making things perfect for her. Don't you think she deserves that, Fish? The perfect, happy life. Or is that you think you can give it to her?" He laughed, softly, and his hands fell to his sides, thumbs looped into his pocket.
"You always had a thing for her, didn't you. I could see it… Hell, I felt it myself, knew what to look for. But you never went there. Even now… with her so vulnerable, so open… you're too damn weak. You make threats, but you and I both know the sort of man you are. You've got no follow through, old friend. And when I take her from you, you're not gonna do a thing to stop me."
"Making things perfect for her?" Fisher scoffed. "You're destroying her life. Destroying everything she built, away from us. It was the right thing to do. Leave us behind. You're no good to her and you never will be."
His anger fell into alarm, but one he knew he had to control. His brows furrowed. Solomon wouldn't catch him off guard with useless taunts. "So you're the kind of man who takes advantage of women, hm? You're never going to get close. Do you think Delilah is some pretty princess waiting to fall into your arms as you burn down every building in your path? You're as bad as John. I'm never going to let you get close."
"You get in my way, Fisher… and I swear to you, I'll kill her, too. I don't want to. You know I mean that. But if I have to, I will. So do yourself a favor, and stay out of it." Pulling his hand from his pocket, he produced a small plastic pen cap, his lip turning up again, "All I need to do is charge it. Should I do it, Fish? Or you gonna get the hell out of my way?"
For the first time, Fisher wavered. His eyes flickered uncertainty to the pen cap and he took the tiniest of steps back. No. No, I can't let this go so easily. Fisher gritted his teeth resteadying his stance, inhaling deeply. "You wouldn't dare, Sol." He said, voice husky. "This whole parade's about her. It'd make it all for nothing. You wouldn't dare."
"They have parades for funerals, too, Fish." He said, coldly, twisting the cap between his fingers, "I said I didn't want to… but I will. Don't make the mistake of thinking I don't mean it. Because I'd rather kill her, then see her with anyone else. It was a happy accident I got rid of the good doctor… and I could kill you, too. So easily. But the fact is, I know what that would do to her. And she's better off dead than mourning your sorry ass for the rest of creation. So you're gonna step out of the way. Got it?"
"So kill me then." Fish said. He hardly hesitated. It wasn't something he needed to think about it. "You might have to wait a couple years for her to get over my sorry ass, maybe a decade or two, but she'd be all yours. Plus in all that time, you could burn a couple more hospitals, maybe some orphanages while you're at it.. It'd all be in good fun, no?" Fisher suddenly grabbed Solomon's hand with his own ungloved, the pen cap held between both their closed fists. "Go on then. They wouldn't have to hold another funeral because we're already at one."
Grinning wildly, Solomon's eyes flickered to Fisher's hand, before he looked back to him, shaking his head, "Don't be in such a rush, Little Minnow. You'll get your time. Enjoy the party. I hear the crab dip is just divine…"
With those words Fisher let his own hand drop, watching Solomon skulk out of the corner. The moment he was gone, he gasped for air like he'd been drowning the moment previous. His eyes were wide, and now, he could feel a tremor roll through his fingertips. He'd not broken in, not yet. And for that he was proud of himself. But Solomon's empty smile rang as true as in every photo Fish had seen, and he knew that those pretty two weeks, those weeks without a single thought of him, were nothing but a false hope and a device in a game he didn't want to play. Now he had no choice but to win.
Outside the door of the sitting room, Delilah waited, and as Solomon passed she nearly cried out in shock at seeing him. He turned towards her and smiling, reached into his pocket and with a glance back behind him, he tossed it to her, winking, "...Boom."
She caught it, and her heart collapsed in her chest as she glanced down, but the object was only a paper clip… a simple paper clip - no glow, nothing. Looking up, she watched as Solomon looked past her, at Fisher, his words like ice down a window pane, "It would be that easy, Fisher. Remember that." And turning, he continued towards the funeral parlor exit.
Staring at the clip, Delilah barely felt her legs give way as she sank down the wall.
Out of the corner of his eye Fisher could see Solomon approach Lilah. He jumped up and stifled a cry, eyes widened in alarm. A paper clip, a normal one, lay in her lap as Solomon delivered his final threat. Fisher's blood went cold as he finally walked away, the silhouette of his once best friend turning the corner and disappearing.
His strides were long, desperate to get out of there as soon as possible. "Let's go." He whispered hurriedly, voice quivering far more then he had hoped it would. He could barely look at her, for fear that it would be the last time. In seconds he was in the car and without a word they drove away.
