Run Girl Run, Part 3 Interactions: Jamie, Jaz, and Ti @Mobley Eats Jamie's eyes narrowed as she noticed the cashier as well. Where the hell had he been five minutes ago? Hello? The fuck? She raised an eyebrow as Jaz slipped into the store to deal with that particular situation.
She might've said something about how Ti should definitely not keep the gun, and that he should wipe his prints off, because she'd learned ever since she first suspected her brother was into something shady that she needed to be careful. She would've said something, really. But then her gaze locked on James, who looked to still be out cold. More importantly, it locked on his bleeding arm. Was that… a cookie hanging out of it? A chocolate chip cookie?
If one of these two had figured out how to slice and dice with a cookie, she didn't want to hear shit about her calling her textbook a weapon.
She was still squinting at the cookie in question, about to cautiously step towards it to inspect further, only for her head to snap up as Jaz came rushing out. "Oh, shit," she said simply, following her lead back towards the RV.
The trio were quick to enter the vehicle and even faster to pull away from the rest stop long before authorities arrived, on the road once more. Ti, who was manning the wheel again, glanced down at the rifle on the floor before calling out, "Jaz? Mind puttin' dat up somewhere, please?"
"Ya mean fuckin' hide it somewhere," Jaz grumbled. Regardless, she heeded his words and snagged the weapon, shuffling towards the back of the RV in search of a sufficient hiding spot. As she rummaged around, her voice filled the area with waves of annoyance thicker than molasses. "Dat was some fuuuuuuucked shit, by da way! But hey, guess it was worth stoppin' to get ALL DA MUTHA FUCKIN' DIRECTIONS, HUH?!"
Ti's lips pursed. "You sound mad."
"BITCH! MAYBE I AM!"
Jamie was silent the first stretch of the trip, right up until Ti spoke. "I still cannot believe you kept that thing," she huffed, shaking her head as Jaz walked past with the rifle in hand. "We should've chunked the thing." She kept shaking her head.
"I think we kinda reserve the right to be mad. We tried to say something, tried to warn you that maybe it's not a great idea," she continued, looking back up towards Ti. "But nah. We're just paranoid. No truth to what we said whatsoever, right? Just been trippin' the whole time." She gave Ti a pointed look that she hoped he could see in the rearview mirror.
Ti's features fell more and more with each word escaping the girls, concern finally starting to bubble to the surface. By the time he spoke, his smile was all but gone. "I… Wait. Are y'all mad at me?" he asked tentatively.
"Nah," Jaz said while plopping down across from Jamie, "I'm fuckin' pissed at yo ass. Fo' clarification. We told ya slow ass."
Ti's grip on the wheel tightened. "Sorry… Just thought I could still believe there's some good in people. Guess I was wrong." A brief pause, before repeating lowly, "Sorry."
Jaz heaved a groan, her head falling back to meet the cushion of her seat. Great. Now he was sulking--she forgot how sensitive the dope could be. "Don' go makin' dat face, man. I'm just sayin', ya slipped up. Those were the wrong fuckas to trust."
Jamie sighed, dragging a hand over her face. "That's not- Don't. There's good in the world, yeah, but them? They are not where you're gonna find it. They are not the good in the world. It's other people. Believe in good, but don't go looking for it where it's not going to be," she murmured, voice low but firm.
"Kay…" Ti muttered, visage still crestfallen. Regardless, he understood where they were coming from and knew that he had screwed up--more so than usual. He'd just have to deal with it and hope that his brain didn't fail him again in the future. He highly doubted that, though. "So, uh, y'all know what ya want from Mickey D's?"
"You a'ready know what I always get," Jaz said lazily, having slumped into the seat once more. She was groggy and starving before their altercation with those men but now… now, she was downright drained. "Team Chicken Nuggets ovuh here, boi." A small chuckle lurked about her tone.
"A shit ton of fries, that's for sure," Jamie answered. "And uh, quarter pounder with cheese. Might as well go big or go home, and I'm definitely not going home." She internally winced a little at that joke at her own expense. Yeah, she should probably lay off that one for a while. She couldn't afford to think about that. Not right now. Not for a while.
"Check 'n check," Ti said, memorizing the orders with ease as he veered off in the next exit. The McDonalds James had mentioned being impossible to find was easily within view and it didn't seem closed down in the slightest. "Damn," Ti muttered, dejection ebbing back into his system, "So many liars 'n stuff these days."
As the RV slowed to a stop, he glanced back at Jaz and Jamie. "I'll be right on back wit dat grub!" Without waiting for a reply, he hopped out and strolled happily into the restaurant, as if he hadn't battled with a band of violent harassers mere minutes ago.
Jaz shook her head as she watched her brother through the window. "Ole goofy ass," she chuckled. The annoyance was still there, but the affection outweighed it--the sentiment always would. Her family was her life, and that would never change. However, as her attention landed back on Jamie, some awkwardness overtook her and she exhaled nervously, fingers drumming against her thighs and shooting the woman glances from her peripherals. "So… uh… N-nice threat speech'a ma thing back there. Wit da dude, I mean. Fuckin' savage."
Jamie gave Ti a thumbs up as he hopped out of the RV and into the building. She was mostly quiet until Jaz spoke up. A smile curled on her lips. "Thanks. I've had plenty of practice," she chuckled. "And it turns out rage screaming bizarre threats is a solid self-defense tactic. Funny how that works, huh?"
"Lots of practice, huh. Heh… don' know if dat's really a good thing or whatevuh, but a dope ass skill t'have anyway. Like, holy damn, gurl--dat shit 'bout da knees 'n toes? Had me shooketh," Jaz said. The more she spoke, the more her voice started to quiver with anxiety. Now that she no longer felt the need to distrust Jamie or monitor her every move, she was left with nothing but nerves upon nerves upon dorkiness and more nerves. Fan-fucking-tastic. Really. "Hey, uh…" She picked at the cloth of her jeans. "J-just lemme know when, like, my shit start t'get all extra wordy 'n all ovuh da place, a'ight? Like, I'm a damn smooth bitch, d-don' get me wrong, but I'm kinda geeky as hell. Fuck, okay--damn geeky as hell 'n painfully fuckin' honest bout dat shit, so ya gotta make sure ya don' hold back on shuttin' my ass up like… shit. Damn. Like right now, actually."
Jaz decided to focus on catching her breath, suddenly finding her shoes incredibly interesting.
"Uh, probably a good and bad thing, honestly," Jamie decided after a moment, with a slightly sheepish smile. The fastest way to get people to leave her alone had been threats and having a solid punch to back them up. She'd gotten good at both of those as a result, over the years. Both for her own sake, and for a few others as well. She blinked as Jaz continued to ramble, dead silent for several beats even after she'd finished. "...Okay," she said eventually. "You… you don't have to cut yourself off, if you feel like you're rambling or getting 'dorky'. Doesn't bother me. Honestly." She'd spent far too much time around Dorien for it to be the sort of thing she could reasonably get upset about.
"C-cool," Jaz squeaked, sinking even further into her seat, "...Cool."
And then nothing. Her mind, her thoughts, any witty comebacks--vanished. Completely wiped clean by the carnivorous maws of her own overactive brain. Jaz was just… gonna… stew there in her self made grave until further notice.
Jamie blinked, silent as well for quite some time. Her gaze flicked off to the side, staring off into space, until she worked up the nerve to ask the question floating around in her head. "So, uh, are we gonna talk about the fact Ti bit someone? Because that feels concerning. Other than the fact he probably wants to wash his mouth out with soap, because I know I sure as hell wouldn't put my mouth on that," she asked, eyes flicking back over towards Jaz.
If Jaz wasn't stiff before, she definitely was now. She squirmed uncomfortably, trying desperately to focus on any area that wasn't occupied by Jamie. Christ. Christ, Christ, Christ on Cheezus White Rice. "Uhh… H-heh. What can I say? Dude's been perpetually teethin' for as long as I can fuckin' remember," she said.
Jamie raised an eyebrow, not buying this for even a moment. " Right…" she says slowly. "So is there any particular reason he likes to use people as teething rings or…?" she asked, tilting her head at Jaz.
In perfect sync, Jaz's head tilted in the opposite direction as Jamie's, still stubbornly avoiding eye contact. She shrugged. "I don' know, man. He might be my brother, but I can't read his mind or whatevuh." Her fiddling with her jeans had escalated, nearing the point of ripping out strands and yanking on them. "M-maybe we, uh… Maybe we oughtta look into a topic change, a'ight?"
Jamie squinted at Jaz, still thoroughly unconvinced. She let it drop for now. "Right," she said again with a still furrowed brow. She fell silent, leaning back in her seat before another thought struck her. "...Was that a cookie sticking out of the guy's arm earlier, by the way?"
A beat.
…
Jaz heaved a gentle sigh, "I mean… maybe?"
Another beat.
"Maybe?" Jamie echoed, eyebrow quirking up. "It looked pretty cookie-ish. And honestly if you've figured out how to make deadly weapons out of chocolate chip cookies, I don't know why you were worried about me and my textbook."
"I wasn'," Jaz muttered, "Just a joke anyhow. I mean, it ain't no joke dat it could legit kill ya but, still… Yeah, guess you can say dat." She shrugged, nearly helpless in the motion. "Cookies are sharper than ya think, man. Simple as dat."
"Uh-huh, sure," Jamie continued, eyes narrowing further. Yeah, no, she wasn't buying that. That greeting of 'you gonna kill us?' that had gotten yelled at her when they first pulled up was definitely genuine. "...No? Not really?" she said after a moment. "Unless it is the world's crustiest cookie, it's not usually sharp. And that's when we have a different set of problems."
Jaz dragged both hands down her face, her groan long and muffled. She peeked at Jamie between her fingers, body slumping with the weight of growing defeat. "Look, I just… I found dat shit on da ground, a'ight? I don' know what t'tell ya, Jamie. Just… It ain't nothin'. I'm just glad we got outta dat shit."
Jamie didn't look even remotely convinced, but she let it drop for now. For now. She was still… very intrigued, but she'd leave it for later. She leaned back into her seat again, having leaned forward at her mention of the cookie earlier. "Yeah, me too," she agreed, dragging a hand down her face. "God, that was a mess."
Jaz nodded in deep agreement. It was a mess. The biggest fucking mess she had ever experienced in her loud, discombobulated lifetime. She half-suspected all of it to have been a nightmare, just a trick of her exhausted mind, a brain baby produced by her hyperactive imagination… But it wasn't. All of that shit was real. Ti's knuckleheaded nature was as real as always. Jamie was real. She couldn't draw much comfort from that.
"Yeah, a huge fuckin' mess…" She shrugged again, fingers having moved on to fidgeting amongst one another until her palms drew clammy. "At least you was lookin' on point in da middle of it. Uh, y-ya know, queen status 'n all dat shit." She made a motion to raise a fist, but then dropped her hand midway with an awkward cough.
A soft laugh escaped Jamie as she shook her head. "Thanks," she said with a smile. "I swear I'm not usually that intense." Mostly. She'd cooled down a little over the years, if nothing else. She could still get… a little out there, if threatening to suck kneecaps from someone's shoulders was any indication. But she'd mellowed out. No socking kids at school anymore, at least. "But I'm glad to know you enjoyed it," she added. "...I still can't believe you actually bowed to me in that parking lot."
"Didn't say it was a bad thing," Jaz said. However, Jamie's disbelief weeded a cackled out of Jaz, not entirely unlike one of those traditionally corny villains from a cartoon show--right before they delved into cringe-inducing monologues. "Gurl! C'mon now, why wouldn' I bow? Where I come from, dat's fuckin' royalty material. No joke, man."
"Because it's meant to make people try to get away from me as fast as possible?" Jamie offered with a laugh. "I don't get lots of bowing when I say stuff like that. And you did it, right there, just bowed in the parking lot." She buried her face in her hands at the mental image, shaking her head with a grin.
"Ya don' get a lot, huh?" Smile pulling at Jaz's lips, she slipped out of her seat and onto her knees before Jamie, peering up at the woman with absolute amusement shimmering in her eyes. Just as before, she bowed before her, slowly and dramatically. "Hail da mutha fucka queen! Da royal highness herself!" She practically threw herself forward, her forehead kissing the floor and arms outstretched, her hair splayed about.
"No…?" Jamie answered, looking a little confused as she raised her head from where she'd buried her face in her hands. A wheezing laugh escaped her as Jaz once again bowed to her. "Oh my God," she gasped, shoulders shaking. "No. Don't," she said, wholy unconvincing as she chuckled the entire time. She shook her head. "Come on, that's enough worship for today. I gotta keep my head at a decent size. Gotta space that shit out."
Jaz rolled her eyes, sitting up fully as she grinned up at Jamie. Heh--score one for Jazzy, bitches. "Fiiiine," she sighed in faux exasperation, "But only cuz my queen asked so damn nicely 'n shit." With the gusto of a thousand year old sloth, she clambered up to sit next to the woman. "Psht! Man, please! Won't hurt ya head to get a lil inflation goin'. Heard all dat air 'n oxygen is good for ya brain anyway."
Jamie snorted, shaking her head as she watched Jaz slowly plop herself down on the seat beside her. She grinned, chuckling. "It's gonna hurt me when I start floating off like a balloon, or when I try to go through doorways and get stuck," she joked.
"Naw, wouldn' let dat happen," Jaz said, "You gonna find out real quick 'bout us dat we don't let our peeps down… or, err, up, in your situation. Either way, you're all gucci." A moment or so later, the RV door swung open and Ti came prancing inside with two giant bags of steaming hot, artery-clogging goodness.
...There was still a tiny blotch of red in his teeth.
"Got da grub!" he announced jubilantly.
Jaz nearly heaved another sigh, a hand sweeping her hair back in exasperation. "Ti… bruh… Please. Please tell me you didn't roll up in there 'n talk to dem wit blood still in your mouth."
Ti blinked. "...Can I just lie 'n say no?"
Jamie laughed. She opened her mouth to respond when the RV door came swinging open, and the scent of wonderful, horrible for her health, absolutely delicious food met her nose. Oh, thank God. "The food fairy's here!" she announced, hands in the air as a massive smile spread across her face.
Only for her to notice the blood in Ti's mouth. Her hands refolding themselves in her lap, her eyes flicked back and forth between the siblings. For several beats, she was silent. And then…
"...You sure we can't talk about the fact he bit somebody?" Jamie asked, eyes flicking back to Jaz as she jabbed a thumb towards Ti.
"Yeahhhh no." Jaz chuckled awkwardly while rubbing the back of her neck, feeling cold sweat collect there by the pint. "Ain't nothin' to talk 'bout, really. He's just a biter."
"Yeah," Ti piped up while plopping onto the pullout futon. He started handing the girls their orders, smile as bright and crimson-tainted as always. "Didn' really think much bout it. A'ways did bite stuff a lot back in da day, but I'm good at keepin' dat in check now."
As he spoke, Jaz kept shooting him furtive glances that sent a clear message: Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up!
Jamie raised an eyebrow, even as she took her food as Ti handed it off to her. It took an immense amount of self-control she wasn't sure she could keep up to not pop open the bag and stick her face in it to smell the fresh fries. God, they were so hot, she could feel the heat seeping through her pants and into her lap, where she'd set it down for the moment.
"...Good about keeping biting stuff in check?" she asked eventually.
Ti flipped open his Big Mac. "Yeah. Just had a problem chewin' on ev--"
"Everythin'," Jaz interrupted, "Ya know. His fave toys 'n shit. I heard all da stories 'bout it from mom 'n dad." Dear. Christ. She swore to any god or goddess currently watching over the trio--if her brother dared to screw this up, she would personally dunk his head into a bucket of ice.
"Oh yeah!" Ti laughed lightly, his eyes misting over with nostalgia. "Like, every fuckin' thing. Toys, da door, da bed, da walls, da car--"
"Negro shut up," Jaz hissed.
Jamie had been nodding along as he begun to explain. She wasn't sure, really, if she'd been a chewer. It was never a question she'd thought to ask her parents before they were gone, and well, Dorien would know. It'd be a bit hard to ask now though.
Then she froze.
"The car?" she echoed with wide eyes and a voice full of disbelief.
"Yeah, da car. Didn' taste good at all though," Ti clarified, his mind more or less invested in picking the right approach for his first chomp into greasy heaven.
"My God… You fuckin' dummy… H-how the fuck even…" Jaz was reduced to a disappointed and mumbling mess, wishing nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Her brother… Her damn dumb brother that she loved to the moon and back.
Jamie was silent. Once again, she was squinting in confusion at Ti. Her brow furrowed and mouth opened to speak, but nothing ever came out. "The car…" she echoed again, dead silent otherwise as her food was momentarily forgotten. What the hell?
"Yes… da fuckin' car…" Jaz muttered miserably. She uncovered her face, but only just enough to burn through Jamie with pleading eyes. "You… Y-you ain't gonna rat us out or anythin', are ya?"
It was then that confusion finally hit Ti, whose cheeks were bulging with a mouthful of burger and fries. He forcefully gulped it down, wincing at the sting within his esophagus. "Rat us out? Bout what?" A brief pause. "Oh… Ohhhh…" Heat flooded the man's cheeks as he slapped a hand over his mouth; it was much too late to try and shield the blood from view, but he couldn't help but do so out of shame.
Run Girl Run, Part 4 Interactions: Jaz, Ti & Jamie @WingWong
"Rat you out?" Jamie asked, looking even more confused now. "Why would I rat you out? I don't think there's a law against eating cars. Not...technically, anyway," she continued, brow furrowing even more deeply. "I just… why do you wanna chew on a car? How do you chew on a car? What fucking dental plan have I been missing out on?"
Ti looked at Jaz, trading gazes with her as if asking a silent question. There was a beat of reluctance, her expression twisting with anxiety, before she nodded and gave him permission. The elder sibling meandered over to a small set of cabinets hanging over the sink and retracted a single plate. It was ceramic, adorned with a simple yet cute design of a green bell pepper in the center of it…
Crack!
He bit off nearly half of it, the giant shard protruding from his mouth. With another flex of the jaw, he crushed it even more and let the pieces fall from his mouth. "Err… tada?"
Silence.
Jamie watched the display with wide eyes. "...Again, what dental plan?" she said eventually, her attempt at humor falling a bit flat as confusion continued to write itself over her face. Her gaze flicked briefly to Jaz before returning to Ti. "Or really strong jaw?" she offered after a moment. A few more beats of silence occured, but the gears seemed to be turning this time. Could mutations manifest like that? Strange, sure, but not the most bizarre thing she'd probably ever heard either. Would it really be stranger than being largely untraceable to technology? Even as the cogs in her mind began to turn, though, her gaze flicked between the siblings.
Now it was Jaz's turn to look at Ti for permission. In similar fashion, he nodded and watched as the woman grumbled a string of incomprehensible curses under her breath while raising a palm in front of Jamie. "A'ight, so, uh…" The faint and nearly muted sound of peeling skin resonated between them as a bulge emerged from her hand. It continued to rise and expand, until she pulled it free completely, revealing another cookie shuriken. "B-bout dat whole sharp ass cookie thing…"
The furrow in Jamie's brow uncreased. She watched with wide eyes, entirely fascinated as the cookie grew from her skin and was then pried free. More beats of silence. "The cookie was you," she breathed. They were mutants. They were mutants too. "Oh, thank God," she said suddenly, shoulders slumping in relief. She was okay. She was going to be safe, at least as far as mutant abilities went.
Ti blinked.
Then Jaz.
"...Bitch excuse?" If only words could describe the perplexed shock coursing through her veins. "You ain't connectin' da dots yet? Did dem fuckers actually hit you in da head somewhere? Fuck, they did, didn't they? TI GRAB DA FIRST AID!"
Jamie shook her head, a laugh escaping her. "No head wounds, promise," she assured. "...You got your phone on you? Something with a camera? That's… the best way I can think to show you. We'll see if it's still going, in any case," she continued as she looked up at the siblings.
Jaz descended from her panic high, albeit slowly, and with a raised brow, offered her phone to Jamie. "Listen, uh… I definitely don' mind you gracin' my phone wit a bomb ass selfie or whatevuh, but I don' know how dat's real relevant right now," she said.
Jamie shook her head again, smiling. She quickly found the camera app, tapping to make sure the camera faced her. She nodded to herself; just as she'd thought. She switched the camera view before holding up the phone between her and Jaz, so she could get a good look. Despite the camera being perfectly focused on her, Jamie's body was indistinct and blurry, as if distorted by static on the screen. There was periodically a glitch effect across her face or body, further distorting her image. "Don't think I'd be able to take a selfie right now anyway," she admitted.
In place of what Jaz expected to be a selfie bound to evacuate her soul from her body (and likely bow before Jamie again) was a blurred and static mess of pixels. The most she could make out of the woman was a singular blob of colors.
How the fuck?
"...Madam," Jaz muttered, confusion plain in her face and tone. "Did you just summon Satan onto my cellular device?"
Jamie chuckled, shaking her head. "No, no summoning demons. I don't fuck with that shit. I've seen The Exorcist, thank you," she assured. "I, uh, I think I have some sort of… static field around me, I guess? Some sort of cloaking. When it's up, I don't show up on camera, or voice recognition, or any way to precisely locate where I am."
She shrugged lightly. "Unfortunate side effects include not being able to ask Siri how to make brownies, and making a GPS spaz out. Sorry about that, by the way," she added, cringing a little as she gestured towards said GPS. "It'll go back to normal whenever the field goes away or when I step out, so it's not broken."
"Wait…" Ti squinted at the GPS, then back at Jamie. "So dat really was you? Dang… dat's gotta be hard t'deal wit." Despite everything he had just registered, nothing short of pity rolled across his features. He could only imagine the headache Jamie endured when it came to navigation. If they had left her in the woods, there was no telling where she would've ended up. Alone. Unsafe… Oh yeah. "Was dat why you was runnin' on da side of da road like dat? Somebody was chasin' ya fo'... fo' just bein' you?"
"Dat's fuckin' dope…" Jaz muttered under her breath, eyes still trained on her phone. However, she snapped back to attention at Ti's question, sharing similar curiosity. She was a tad disappointed at the lack of a proper selfie, but she could definitely settle for snapping a photo or two with her eyes… Wait… Wait. That sounded fucking creepy, didn't it? Thank da ever livin' GODS dat thoughts are a private thing. Unless, like, somebody was a whole ass mind reader. Den I'd be fucked, she thought.
"Yeah. Sorry 'bout that," Jamie confirmed, giving them a sheepish smile. The smile faded at his next question. "Uh, sort of? I'm not...I'm not sure it was me they were really after. Most people don't know that I do that," she admitted, gesturing to Jaz's phone. "It's kind of a new development, anyway. I never pinged scanners before, and I've only had problems like this the past year. More like less than a year, actually. I don't think they wanted me because of what I can do."
She fell silent, wringing her hands. She knew it would catch up to them one day, whatever he'd gotten involved in. She'd known it would. She knew, between that and his powers, it would come back to bite them. She'd just wished it hadn't been now. "I think… they wanted me as leverage against my brother," she admitted softly.
The siblings listened quietly, far quieter than either of the rambunctious individuals were ever known for as contemplation washed over them. This was… some serious shit. Jamie hadn't unloaded much information, nothing terribly detailed, but judging from her tone alone, they could tell that she was wrapped up in dangerous circumstances.
And then she mentioned a brother. Then she mentioned family. And when family was in jeopardy, not a single member of the Sullivans dared to breathe easy until said family was as happy as their own. Happy in their own way. And safe.
Ti sat down, expression just as grim as Jaz's, perhaps worse, as he folded his arms and looked at Jamie. "What's goin' on wit ya brother," he asked lowly.
"You need help?" This time it was Jaz who chimed in, urgency coloring her voice. "Jamie, man… Whatever shit you in, ya know you got us, right? Hell, I know we just met but you our homie now. Dat shit's set in stone, 'n we don' turn our backs on a homie nor their family. Our people? Da one's who struggle like us? We gotta look out fo' one anothuh."
A breath escaped Jamie as she shook her head. She bit back a remark of 'what's not going on with him?' However frustrated she might be, it was definitely misplaced. "I don't know. Not anything specific, anyway. He always kept me as far away as possible from whatever he'd gotten involved in to make things work," she said. "I've known for a while that it wasn't….legal. And not in a 'mutant is actually working to survive' kind of way. Genuinely illegal. Just… the hours he worked, the weird precautions, the look in his eyes. I knew, but…" she trailed off, shaking her head. It had made her feel like things could be okay again, even if it was just her and her brother.
"Honestly? I'd say yes, but I don't know how you can help. I don't even know where this mess is coming from. I don't know if it's what Dorien's been involved in, or if it's because we're mutants, or something else entirely." She glanced between the two of them, her own face solemn. "I don't know where to begin. I just know his...coworker? Friend? Hell, I don't know what she is to him. I just know he's been making goo-goo eyes at her for years now. She just told me to run, to hide, to do whatever I could to get away, because someone was coming for us."
Again, Jaz and Ti listened with utmost patience, the former failing to hide her building annoyance in comparison to her brother's blank expression. None of this boded well with the siblings and despite Jamie's mentioning her own sibling possibly being involved with illegal connections, it still set their guts ablaze with dread and sympathy. Jaz couldn't imagine herself in Jamie's position; if anything ever happened to Ti and she suddenly found herself on the run, on her own, and unsure of how to fix things… "Dis… is so fucked," Jaz sighed, face falling into her hands.
"I mean… yeah, you probably right dat we can't do nothin' bout dat," Ti started, lips quirking to the side in deep thought. He nearly bit the inside of his cheek, but remembered to hold off on the tick at last second. He wasn't in the mood to swallow anymore blood. "But we can at least help you while you figure out what t'do next, a'ight? First priority is gettin' ya somewhere safe, cuz ya da best mind t'solve dis shit… Just know you got us."
"Fo' real though." Jaz gave Jamie a gentle nudge, flashing her a weak smile. "We gonna get dis shit cleared up, Jamie. We promise man. I don't give a fuck what ya brothuh goin' through; family ain't somethin' you sleep on."
Jamie ran her hands down her face, ducking her head, as she watched her words sink in and the gears start turning in the other siblings' minds. It was true. The situation was fucked. Utterly fucked. She'd started off the day like everything was normal. Then everything was turned upside down. She hadn't known what was going on, what was happening, or why it was happening. She didn't know if Dorien and Aster were safe or even alive. She hadn't known where she was going to go, or what she would do. All she knew was that she had to run.
And now… Now she had this pair of siblings telling her they would help her. That they'd do what they could to sort this situation out.
Baby steps, she reminded herself. Baby steps, baby steps. One thing at a time. First things first…
A small grateful smile crept onto Jamie's face as she lifted her head to look at the two siblings before her. "Thank you, " she said, her voice far softer than it had been for much of the day since she'd met them. And just like that, it seemed a little bit easier to face the clusterfuckery that was the current state of her life staring her in the face.
"Hey…" Jaz sat next to Jamie once more and gave her a gentle nudge by the shoulder, expression softening with a grin. It was infected with exhaustion and concern, but she did her best to muster as much reassurance as she could. "Ain't no need t'thank us, a'ight? I mean, if ya really feel like showin' us gratitude, just keep slayin' 'n bein' a queen." Her grin widened a bit. "Deal?"
"I'm down fo' dat deal," Ti piped up, not entirely sure where the queen bit even came from--Oh. Wait. The parking lot. He had almost forgot. "Err, all hail da queen!"
"All fuckin' hail," Jaz chuckled.
Then, Ti's brow smoothed over with a realization. "Can I be da King?"
Jaz rolled her eyes. "Hell nah!"
"...Da Prince?"
"Nope."
"Jester?"
Jaz squinted, her lips pursed in thought. "...Maybe… Yeah, fuck it. Dat'll work." She glanced back at Jamie. "Well, as long as da queen's cool wit it."
Jamie looked over at Jaz as she nudged her, giving the other girl a wide grin. "Keep yelling obscene threats at creepy weirdos? Abso-fucking-lutely. Deal," she chuckled. Her gaze flicked back and forth between the pair of them, laughing harder as Jaz shot down Ti's attempts at being modern royalty.
"I think I could use a jester," she mused, tapping a finger to her chin as her lips quirked into a crooked smile. "My royal court of badassery always needs more members." And she might have very well left it at that if she hadn't gotten smacked in the face with the smell of glorious hot food once again.
"And now if you'll excuse me, the queen is gonna inhale this whole-ass burger. If I choke, I choke, because I refuse to go out any other way."
In striking synchronization, the siblings raised their hands in a complacent manner, their smiles wide and bemused. "Go'on head wit dat," they said. Hell, it wasn't in their nature nor their right to keep Jamie away from her food. They still remembered playfully dogpiling Kimmie just as dinner was ready, her favorite, at that. After she proceeded to lose her composure and unleash her… serious face, along with dousing the living room in webs, they found it in everyone's best interest to never keep someone away from their meal.
Jaz tried to return Jamie's smile, though all she succeeded in doing was flashing a few teeth, her one crooked canine included, before pinching her lips and gulping nervously. Fuuuuck my life. Seriously--fuck it. Fuck all of it. She had a hunch that the rest of this road trip would the absolute worst and best one of her entire life. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Yeah, well, anyway--I'm callin' Royal Advisor. I'd be all ovuh dat; gotta make sure I keep y'all out of trouble 'n shit, ya know? My paranoia's good fo' somethin', dammit."
"Wha'chu mean by trouble?" Ti asked, his face already slathered in grease, salt, and ketchup.
Jaz pinned him down with a deadpan glare. "...Bitch."
Ti beamed. "I'm just kiddin'~"
"Eat yo burger, chump."
"Chomp!"
"..."
"..."
Jaz sighed while massaging her temple. "A'ight. Fine. Fuck it. I walked into dat shit." Shrugging off her brother's triumphant laughter, she finally focused on her own food and started packing away chicken nuggets as if she was sucking in air.
However, she had enough awareness of mind and self-preservation (unlike Jamie, who was perfectly cool with death by burger asphyxiation) to swallow before speaking up again, "Hey, uh, Jamie? So, like… How ya feel bout comin' back wit us fo' now? Back home in South Carolina, I mean." She fidgeted a bit, her anxiety making a steady comeback. "Err, well, I'll be hittin' up Florida soon aftuh dat, but still… I don' know. If dat sounds fuckin' weird or whatevuh, I get it. Just…"
She shrugged.
"Just wanna make sure you got a safe place to be, ya know?"
"A queen, a jester, and royal advisor on the road together. What a crew we make," Jamie snorted. She then set to work, devouring her food in all but record time. God, she hadn't realized how hungry she was. How long had it been since she ate? Mentally ticking off the time, she glanced at the clock.
Then she cringed. No wonder she was hungry. She knew she should've had more for lunch. Of course, if she'd known she would end up going running and beating dipshits around today, she would've packed a lunch or something.
She was most of the way through her burger and shoving fries in her mouth like all fries would disappear in 2 minutes. She froze when Jaz's voice met her ears, at least three fries sticking out of her mouth as she fell utterly still to look over at the other girl.
A few beats passed before she eventually finished poking them in her mouth and chewed. One swallow later, though, and she wasn't any closer to an answer.
"I mean…It's not like I have a whole lot of other places to go," she admitted, working her jaw in consideration. "Tagging along with you guys, though… It sounds like the best option, to deal with all this fuckery I've got going on. If-If that's fine with you and your family, that is."
She glanced between the two of them. She didn't want to intrude. She'd already kind of been doing that, even if it had been at Ti's insistence.
Jaz had to swallow back a snort at the sight of fries dangling from Jamie's mouth, slapping a hand over her own. Hoping to retain a slither of composure, she opted for looking the other way and measured her breathing. In 'n out. In 'n out. In 'n out. Don't look at her--nope. Nope, nope. Don't ya fuckin' do it. This was fine. She could handle this, no problem. However, the glutton goofiness did remind Jaz of her inhaling chicken nuggets not too long ago, which definitely contained gluten…
Ah. Fuck.
Welp--she would be in for a world of pain in the next few hours. Nothing unusual, but she felt a tad embarrassed enduring that in someone's presence other than family… Fuck it. Whatever. Jaz would hurdle that when the time came. As Jamie finally spoke, her brow pinched and she huffed in pure disbelief, waving a hand in dismissal. "Go on 'head wit dat shit, man. Our home's an open one, especially fo' those in need. Seriously. Our fam would be pissed if we didn't ask ya to tag along."
"She's right, ya know," Ti piped up, "Ma 'n Dad'll get real mad if we left ya behind like dat. Ain't no way it's gonna be a problem."
Jamie looked first at Jaz, a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as the other girl fought for composure. Then her eyes slid over to Ti. With the two of them in her sights, offering her help, a place to go, and ramshackle guidance in a situation she couldn't even begin to navigate, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She visibly slumped in relief.
"Thank you…" she murmured, voice little more than a whisper. She wasn't sure where to go from here, but at least she wouldn't be alone.
Smile softening, she reached out to give Jamie's chin a supportive lift with her finger, then bumped shoulders with the girl. "Don't ya go gettin' all mushy on us now. Straighten ya crown 'n get comfy, a'ight? It's gonna be a long ride headin' back."
"Yep!" Ti piped up while clambering his way to the front and manning the wheel once more. He adjusted the front mirror, shooting the pair another blinding smile before winking. "Buckle on up, y'all!"
Three-hundred miles to go on their road trip. Halfway there, and already, Rose was missing the solitude of their cabin in the woods. They'd left in a hurry, and while she'd always known it was a possibility, a part of her had hoped it would never be necessary. With her life (or what she could take of it) piled into the back of one of their two SUVs, Rose followed the route marked on the map Deckard had given her - a circuitous path, backtracking and sidewinding through the canyonlands in a while attempt to avoid any possible tail…
And by the time they pulled into a motel for the night, she was weary of driving… weary of looking over her shoulder. She had recovered from whatever it was Alys had done to her, but her nerves still felt frayed, and all she wanted was a hot shower and a comfortable pillow to lay her head.
Killing the engine, she looked over to Finn with a small nod, "Ready…?"
It was so strange to have Rose beside him. To be going anywhere with someone. Watching her pack away her life had him feeling such strange deja vu, especially for the fact that he had nothing to pack at all. Finn felt like a ghost, lingering around places where he didn't belong. Why was it so hard to remember how he belonged?
The drive was quiet and his body ached. He wondered if the taste of Alys' powers still lingered over Rose, hell, how could they not? Sometimes he woke up from nightmares feeling that exact sting. There were so many things he wanted to say to her but the words never left the tip of his tongue. Ready? How was he ever going to be ready? For what, even?
"...Yeah. Ready." He murmured, returning the nod, pushing the car door open. "You feel okay?"
Pushing open her own door, Rose took a moment to compose herself… a breath in, steadying, clarifying. She had to be ready. They all did. This was war, and there was no time to let emotions and fears scramble everything up. She was tired and achy and scared as hell, but there were people counting on her, and she needed to be strong.
"I'm good." She answered, with a small nod, before she slipped out, closing the door behind her. Taking only her overnight bag from the hatch, she nodded to Finn and gestured to the front doors of the motel, "Mind grabbing the room? I'm just gonna make sure everything's secure here…" From her bag, she handed him an envelope with cash.
Clearing his throat, staring at the envelope, he scratched the back of his neck, hesitating to take it. "I'm, ah… I'm kind of…. W… wanted, remember?" He mumbled. "You sure that's a good idea?"
Blinking, Rose looked at the envelope, then back to Finn, and for a moment confusion ruffled her features, before she laughed softly, "...Right. Wow. That's gonna… Yeah. I'll be back then." Tossing him the keys, she made for the entrance, disappearing inside for a moment. She wasn't gone long, and when she returned, it was with a lighter envelope indeed but also a hotel room card, "4A… Lower level. I told them no maid service, so we shouldn't have to worry about that." Nodding, she plucked up her bag again, grimacing slightly as she slung it over her shoulder, and started for the properly marked door.
Leaning against the SUV, Finn waited for her with crossed arms, head kept down, eyes vigilant. He glanced at the key card, but watching her grimace as she picked up the bag, Finn frowned, reaching a hand out to her shoulder to stop her from marching off. "Do you want me to carry that?" He asked gently.
Looking over at him, Rose blinked, then with a small, sheepish nod, she held it out to him, "Thanks. Still uh… still a little twitchy." She hated to admit it, that it had affected her the way it had, but if anyone knew, it was Finn. When they reached the door, she slid the keycard into the lock and after the beep, pushed the door open for him.
With a tense jaw, Finn nodded, taking the bag. Careful of his stitches, to keep them from ripping, he slowly slung it over his shoulder and followed behind her, slipping into the room and dropping the bag onto the bed. "Cozy." He murmured. "The.. twitchiness will go away, sometime. It passes." He offered.
Closing the door and clicking the deadbolt and chain into place, Rose nodded at his words, "How's your side? Stitches holding up? Not my best work, but… I was a little, you know…" Holding up her hands, she gave them a wiggle with a small, dry smile, "And some stubborn goat wouldn't let me use my powers."
"Mhmn. And I still stand by that decision." He said with a small grin as she wiggled her fingers. "I think they're alright. Stop doubting your handiwork. Maybe you, Doctor Rose, wanna give 'em a once over, just to make sure?" He asked.
"Ha… You stand by it till you get a horrible infection and your whole side falls off and you become some weird air-mutant zombie." Shaking her head, she nodded, gesturing to the bed, "Have a seat, I'll take a look."
"Woah… air mutant zombie." Finn echoed, eyes sparkling. "I.. gotta admit, Rose. That sounds kind of badass." Finn chuckled, sitting down on the bed and lifting up his shirt.
"Yeah, except for the whole brain-eating, undead monster thing…" She teased, before she kneeled down in front of him. As he lifted his shirt, she reached gingerly, fingertips inspecting the space around the stitches. There was no warmth, no seeping, and despite a little redness, the wound looked better than she'd expected, "...Looks pretty good, actually."
A small exhale fell out of him, letting the shirt fall back down. "That's good. That's really good. See, I told you you did a good job." He smiled at her reassuringly. "Zombie Finn will have to wait another day. Shame… I was really hoping to live out that Walking Dead fantasy."
Looking up at him, a brow rose, and she chuckled softly, shaking her head, "...Walking Dead and fantasy are two things that probably shouldn't be used in the same sentence, Finn. Pretty sure, at least."
Finn grumbled in protest, leaning back on the bed. "Bah. Squashing my dreams. You should be ashamed of yourself, Rose Olsen." He waved his hand at her, taking a deep breath as a hand fell over the place where the stitches lay. "But.. seriously. Thanks for saving my ass. Again."
Shifting, Rose sank on the edge of the bed, with a nod, "Thoroughly ashamed. Sorry, Finn, but I tend to be pretty big on crushing dreams that involve having my brains eaten. Just a personal rule." Flopping back as well, she rubbed her arms, trying to rid her nerves of the odd, lingering tingling feel, "...And you don't need to thank me, when you only got shot in the first place saving me."
"Details, details." Finn said, rolling his eyes. "You, some cute kids, eh, you know. All a hero's job." He stuck his tongue out at her, pushing himself back to move beside her, putting a hand on her arm. "I…" He looked down. "I know it feels… pathetic. When it lingers. But it's not. I mean that."
Biting her lip, she looked up at him with a small nod, "...Kinda does, yeah. I… I've never felt anything like that. Penny warned me about it, when… when we first started training. Always just sort of a 'just in case'. But feeling it is so much worse than hearing about it." Reaching over, she covered his hand with hers, "...And I know you're being a smartass… but you are a hero, Finn. You really are."
"Maybe think of it as like… your pain tolerance leveled up a lot?" He said with a weak grin, entangling their fingers and squeezing her hand, letting her words roll over him. "Eh… I.. I don't know about that. Maybe more vigilante, if we're getting technical." Finn swallowed. "Hero is… a bold title."
"Leveled up. I forgot how much of a nerd you were…" She grinned faintly, teasingly, but it was a short lived expression as he continued, and shaking her head, her eyes traveled up to the ceiling, "You don't know what they mean to me, Finn… those kids. And you kept them safe. You're a big, damn hero. Deal with it."
Finn laughed lightly, shaking his head as well. "Don't you know that in every comic book, when the hero gets called hero they get all whiny about it? Let me live." He glanced at her, biting his lip. "I'm.. uh… glad I could help, Rose. Protect them. They're worth it. You're worth it."
"God Finn…" Rose chirped, fighting a grin, "So emo. Fine. Be Batman. But I was thinking Flash or something cool like that." Eyes flickering to his, her expression softened, smile warming, "Glad you think so. It'd be kind of a bummer if you saved me and regretting it…"
Finn snorted. "Batman and Flash are both cool… don't pit them against each other like this." He retorted, nudging her gently. "Jeez. Who do you take me for? I'm not an anti hero." He said, puffing out his chest. "I've got a lot more saving to do if I'm gonna make up for all the time I missed."
"You're right. I'm sorry… I had a moment of weakness. Forgive me?" With a sly grin, she nudged him back, before shaking her head, "And you could never be an anti-hero, could you? Besides… they're pretty boring after a while." Turning her head to look at him, Rose sighed softly, "...Joking aside, Finn. You don't need to make up for anything. I already told you… I get it. I do. I understand why you left. There's nothing to make up for."
Finn sighed, letting go of her hand to flop back onto the bed. "I did some anti hero-y things for a little while. Ran with a weird crew. It was pretty entertaining." He said with a shrug. "Ah. Yeah. You did say that. But I… still got a ways to go."
"Tell me about it?" She asked, a brow raised as she shifted onto her side, "I mean… If you want. You don't have to, if… if it's too much. Just feels like I missed so much, and I wanna know what it was like…"
Finn raised an eyebrow at her, trying to think what to say. "It… wasn't very glamorous, Rose. I promise. But I worked with this… team for some time. Izumi and Axel. I guess it was… Robin Hood-ish? Doing bad to do good? We stole stuff from RIEF, tried to liberate some mutants… you know. They were a little… intense." He chuckled. "Lots of scars from that period. First time we met, Izumi had me flying into a bench. I wonder where they are now, to be honest… Kinda broke off after a while."
Eyes widening slightly, Rose blinked, "...A bench? You… got a scar from a bench? Tell me it's the one you said you got when you were Batman." Fighting a grin, she looked him over briefly, "Who knows… maybe you'll run into them again, some day? Sounds like people we could use on our side."
"Umm…" Finn blushed. "Maybe it was that one. Maybe." He said, avoiding her gaze. "I hope so. Man, they were powerful, Rose. Axel? He can't die. Or, well.. He can. But when he dies, he wakes up, and he's got a new power. It's wicked. And Izumi can teleport, and damn is she good at it. Blinks in and out of existence. We were pretty powerful, together."
"I can imagine…" Rose nodded, with a small smile. She knew how desperately Finn loved comics, and for a little while, at least, he got the chance to be something along those lines. She would've liked to have seen it, but she didn't say as much, "They sound really cool. Tell me you guys had codenames…"
"Eh. I think they thought they were too cool for that. You know. As bad-good guys do. I tried to make Rocket stick, but they didn't like it so much. In hindsight, I'm thinking that maybe wearing a mask to go assassinate Kaiden or something may have been a good idea."
"In a weird way, I'm kind of glad you didn't." Sitting up a little she shrugged, "...I know it's gonna be tough with your face out there, Finn… but whether you believe me or not, you're a hero for that, too. What he was doing… the plans he had. They were bad. So bad. And you stopped him. Someone had to and you stepped up, and I'm kind of glad the world… our world, anyway, knows that it was you."
Finn brought his hands up, interlocking them behind his head. "You're gonna regret saying that sometime. But I hope it's not anytime soon." He hummed softly. "Maybe… when the world finally understands what I did… I could be more than just.. Wanted. I could do something good. Be someone good."
"You think any of us doubt that, Finn?" She asked, canting her head to look at him, "You think any of us have any doubt at all that you could be something incredible? You've always been amazing. You just never seemed to see it in yourself. Remember the first time you and I talked? When you tried to tell me you weren't brave or special? And I told you that you were wrong? I meant it, even then, even before I knew you."
For someone who could control the air, Finn was surprised how suddenly hard it was to breathe. "Oh." He finally whispered, after a while, a long while. "Guess I… er… I'm probably blind, or somethin'. Gotta get my eyes checked." Forcing his gaze away from the ceiling and to her, Finn gnawed on his lip. "I…" Something incredible. He wanted to be something incredible. For her, for Penny, for Deck, for the kids, for everyone else who was.. Trapped. Afraid. He wanted, more than anything, to be a hero.
"You gonna be with me?" He finally asked. "When I do that incredible thing, someday?"
"You've always been a little blind, yeah…" She teased, before sobering again, "...I wanna be, Finn." She admitted, with a firm nod, no hesitation in her gaze as her eyes softened, "But… but more than that, I want you to want me to be. If you do, then I'm there. I'm there, and I'm not going anywhere."
Finn turned on his side to fully face her, gaze softening as well. "Yeah. I do want you to be." He murmured. "I hope I'll get there, Rose. I want to be good... I want to be like everyone thinks I can be. Like you think I can be."
"Like I know you can." She insisted, with a firm nod, "...And when you do get there, I fully expect you to tell me how wise and incredible I am…" She teased, with a light smile, "Preferably somewhere public, where other people can hear it."
Finn chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, and when they make comic books 'bout me, I'll make sure they put you in the credits as the person who wizened me up. As per usual." He said, a happier sigh falling out of him. "Yeah. One day.. I'll get there."
"Forget that…" She rolled over and poked his rib, sure to avoid the stitches, "I wanna be a sidekick. The quirky one, with a super cute costume." Grinning, she propped her hand against her temple to hold herself upright, "You will, Finn."
He smiled, no, beamed at her. "Well, obviously you're gonna be in the comics and the credits. But you should be my partner, not my sidekick. You're better than that."
Cheeks tinged pink, Rose looked up at the ceiling with a small shrug, "...Well, I mean… I didn't wanna be pushy, but if you insist." Looking at him again, she smiled, "...I could be a superhero. It'd be pretty great."
"Of course you could. Anyone can be a superhero. Just think of it now. Rocket and —" Finn sat up so quickly he almost thought he would snap the stitches. "Oh my god. Did we ever give you a code name?"
Blinking as he sat up, Rose pushed upright as well, concern twitching over her expression before it broke into a small smile, giving a shake of her head, "We didn't, no. I was never really officially a part of Rogue, so I didn't need one."
"Oh my god! Oh my god. I can't believe it. All this time. Rose, I've failed you. I've absolutely failed you." Finn buried his head in his hands, shaking his head. "We've got to fix this. We gotta. Oh, man, what's a good healer-y codename?"
Laughing, Rose leaned back on her elbows, "OH gosh, I dunno, Finn. I've read a lot more comics than I did when I was with Harper, but I'm still no good at the names. Found a sick chipmunk once, kept him in a box under my bed… Named the poor, desperate thing Chip..."
Finn smacked his forehead, shaking his head further still. "Rose, Rose, Rose. I'll help. I'll figure this out." He tapped his fingers along his thigh. "Chip… so creative." He tilted his head at her. "You read comic books? After I left?"
"Hey… be fair…" She laughed again, flopping back, "I was nine, and my favorite movie was Beauty and the Beast. I thought, at the time, I was being clever." At his question, she looked over at him and nodded, "I… I did. I thought after all Travis and Zoey went through, they should… you know… have a good background in comic lore, just so they could have something normal. Something kids ought to have. So I read them to them… every night."
His gaze softened as he looked at her, eyes absolutely shining. "Damn." He murmured. "I.. uh. Wow. Jealous. Really jealous. That's… sweet of you, Rose. Definitely the childhood I wanted." Finn smiled. "But we have business… Regenerator? Nah. Healer is way too bland. Maybe Stitch, so I can call you and say, hey, what's the Stitch. Get it?"
"I mean… considering what their childhood would've been, I wanted to make it easier on them, you know? They deserve it…" She nodded, before her eyes shifted again, widening just slightly, and her lips curved upwards, "...Stitch! I … Geez, Finn. I really like that."
"That they do." He murmured, still thinking over a million codenames, eyes widening in delight as she spoke. "Oh! Really? You do? You could be Stitcher if you wanted, or just Stitch… hey, this is a pretty fitting name, huh?" He smirked, patting his side where she'd sewed him up.
"Stitch," She said firmly, with a grin, "Oh, hey! I just thought… Do you want me to get you some ice for that or..?" She gestured to his side with a small shrug "There's a machine out there…"
"Stitch." He echoed. "Yep. It's perfect. Not to be confused with the adorable TV show. We won't mention that." At her offer, Finn nodded sheepishly. "Ah.. yeah. I'd appreciate that. Thank you."
Chuckling, she rose to her feet, giving him a shrug, "...Are you trying to insinuate I'm not an adorable blue alien creature. Shame on you, Finn." With a wink, she made her way to the door. She was gone for a few minutes, before she turned again with a bucket of ice and setting it on the nightstand, she collected a towel from the bathroom. Sitting beside him again, she filled the towel with ice, before looking to Finn, "Probably better if you lay down."
"Ah - no - I didn't mean - darnit." Finn cursed, watching her go with a small chuckle. He glanced a little warily at the towel with ice. "So, Doctor Rose… Stitch… how bad is this gonna wound my pride?" He leaned back on the bed, abiding by her request.
Curling next to him, she chuckled softly as she set the towel gingerly again the area she had stitched, "...I mean, I can't ice your pride, but you shouldn't be too worried about that. You uh… you looked pretty badass, during that whole mess…"
Finn winced at first, posture tensing as the ice was set down on his tender skin, but after a while, it numbed, and he relaxed again. "Did I?" He said, flashing her a relieved smirk. "Not to brag or anything… but I definitely know how to use my powers now."
"You did…" She nodded, with a sincere smile, "I'd have said something sooner, but I was a bit… out of it for a while there." Tipping her head, she looked up at him, "Noticed that, too. You've grown a lot… even if it wasn't under the best circumstances. I'm proud of you, Finn…"
Finn blushed, rubbing the back of his head. "Um.. th-thanks. You too." A lopsided smirk grew on his lips. "I can harden it now, make it hit like a hammer… and I can deflect bullets, too. I'm working on getting it to slice stuff… but I'll get there."
Chuckling, Rose shook her head, "I mean… Not much more I can learn with my powers. Especially because someone I know won't even let me use them." With a teasing smile, she leaned onto her hand, "But that sounds like a fast improvement from the guy who didn't even know he could take a helicopter down with his powers, until he was forced to."
"You know, there could always be some hidden part to your powers. I mean, look at me. I thought I could only fly for a good five years. Now it's been four more, so I better have figured out how to use 'em right." He hummed under his breath. "It's sort of weird… how much I can… feel the air. Really feel it."
"I… there's a lot to it. I just never really… I mean… With Harper, I kind of figured it out. The extent of it. Wounds are pretty small fish. Apparently, it works on some pretty severe illnesses, too. With Harper, I could slow down his liver disease… It's like… like I could speak to the cells inside him. Can't do it to myself, but I guess that's the trade off." She nodded as he continued, "Makes sense, though. That you can feel it like that. I imagine you could probably generate it, someday… if you worked up to it."
"Woah. Speak to cells? I never thought about it like that… that's cool. I wish it didn't make you sick…" He sighed softly. As they spoke, Finn raised a hand, shimmying his fingers and filtering the tiniest of breezes into the room. "Generate it? I mean.. isn't air already… everywhere? Unless someone's trying to choke me or something. Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I can even feel the air in your lungs. Weird…"
"It's neat, right? The first time happened, I thought I was going crazy. But it's just like talking to old friends, now. Okay… That sounded a little crazy." She chuckled, but only softly, and trailing off, she shook her head, "Doctors get sick, too, Finn. But they still do their jobs. If I didn't heal…? Just to protect myself… What sort of hero would I be?" As he rustled the wind through the room, she nodded, "...If there were in a vacuum… or… like you said… The air in your lungs was cut off. Or someone else's."
"Doctors getting sick is different from making yourself sick. You can do it, just… you gotta be careful. And you've healed me enough." He glanced at her. "Ooh, yeah. Like when that RIEF Flash guy attacked us. Huh. I hope he's doing okay." Finn's brow furrowed. "I bet I could give pretty good CPR or something. Damn, Rose, what if I could make a whole tornado or something?"
"Healed you enough?" A brow rose as she looked at him, shaking her head faintly, "Finn, sweetie. That's not how it works. I healed Harper every day, and I didn't even like the guy. What makes you think that I wouldn't wanna heal you all the more?" With a sigh, she leaned back, hand still on the ice, but eyes shifting up to the ceiling, "When RIEF fell apart, we didn't hear much about the ones that remained out of the ten. I'm guessing they either stuck with Kaiden or ran. Don't know that many of them were exactly attached to the guy after he stuck chips in their head to blow them up if they rebelled. And I think you could, Finn. But maybe test that one in a remote area…" She added, with a chuckle.
"Not saying you don't want too. More saying you.. Shouldn't. Harper didn't give a damn about you.. I do. That's why these stitches are just fine by me." He patted the cold towel. Definitely numb. "I'd like to think he's doing okay. He seemed like a good guy. A lot of them were… a spare few… not so much. And yeah, don't worry. I'll save a tornado for a special day, promise. When you're not in close range."
Rose was quiet for a moment, after he spoke, his words resonating more powerfully than she expected them to. It was a little silly to pretend like she didn't still care for him - she hadn't even bothered trying, but until then, he'd never really given an indication of what was going on in his own head. The words were nice to hear, even if they hurt a little, "...Not fair of you, Finn. Askin' me not to heal you cause you give a damn, when that's why I want to heal you. We're makin' circles around it… and there's no way to make it fair for either one of us." With a small sigh, she tipped her head to look his way again, "...But thanks, I appreciate you not tornado-testing around me. I'm not exactly Andre the Giant, here…"
"No circles here. Already all stitched up, and there's nothing you're gonna do about it." He smiled. "Plus, it's totally numb now. What's cooler than being cool? Ice. Ice cold." Finn giggled. "Any updates on any other Rogue people? I… did stumble upon Nick, at one point. But I didn't ask for much info."
"Oh my goodness…" She mused, pulling the ice away with a snort of a laugh, "You are such a nerd. God, I forgot how much… but now it's all coming back to me." Tossing the damp towel on the nightstand, she rolled onto her side, nodding, "...We've been in contact with Nick for a while. He didn't mention seeing you, but I'm guessing you probably told him not to, and he's too damn noble to break a promise. We try to keep in touch with anyone whose location we know… but it gets harder the more people move around and change."
"Yeah.. and now you're stuck with me. Your loss." He teased, though his expression became a little more somber. "Ah.. yeah.. I did sort of ask. He.. caught me at a very low point. Also, another time I was half dead. Like, seventy five percent dead. Nick found me in an alley." Finn shivered. "Er, anyone else?"
"Oh darn…" Feigning a disappointed look, she snapped, before wrinkling her nose at him, "Guess I'll have to deal with it…" His expression shifted, and she sighed, leaning back again, "I hate hearing all these stories about you being almost dead… But I'm glad if anyone found you, it was that group. And I'm glad you're okay, now." Considering the question, she shrugged, "...Mostly the folks from Miami. A few from Orlando, too. Penny talks to them more than I do, since I wasn't really close to anyone but you guys…"
"Yeah, I.. uh.. I guess there's a lot of them. But I'm still living, so they're good stories, I guess?" He shrugged. "What about.. Lucas? And Levi? And Ozno, and Shiloh? Francis? None of them found me dead, so.."
"Lucas and Francis are still together, last we heard. Levi and Daisy got married… and have a little boy on the way. Oz and Addy live near Vance and Luna… Shiloh, last I heard, wound up in the Underground." Giving a shrug, she smiled, "That's just what Penny's told me. I dunno much else."
Finn's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and a stunned cough fell out of him. "Lucas and Francis are together?" He asked in shock. "Vance and.. L..Lu… shit, Rose, I gotta talk to Luna. Oh my god. Is there any way we can pass by there? Somehow?"
Chuckling, Rose nodded, "Love has a weird way of working out, sometimes." At his question, she shook her head again, "It's not exactly near where we're going, but if the signal Penny's sending out catches them, maybe they'll join up. I dunno, though. After everything went down with her brother, Luna kind of lost the taste for Rogue stuff. But hey, if we make it out of this mess alive, you and I can take a road trip there, anytime."
"I'm not sure if I believe you about those two, if I'm honest… I gotta see it to believe it." Finn ran a hand through his hair. "Shit. I.. god. She's gonna hate me. Ahg. Maybe Penny has a way I can contact her, if she doesn't come? Aw, Lu… I miss her."
"I already told you, Finn. She doesn't hate you. You gotta know that. You're like a brother to her - more than her real brother ever was. And that doesn't stop because you made some bad life choices. We'll see her. Okay? When it's safe. I promise…"
Finn dragged his hand over his face, groaning in despair. After everything that had happened to her… he'd left her in the dust. "When is it ever safe?" He said sadly, shaking his head.
"Someday, it will be." Rose said softly, but with an air of optimism, "Has to be. Cause I haven't given up on having a happily ever after, some day, and I'm not about to, anytime soon." Fingers tracing her wrist tattoo, she shrugged, "Just might… take a while, is all."
He sighed, moving close to her, watching her trace the ink along her wrist. "Happily ever after, huh? Cheesy." Finn laughed weakly. "We.. got time, I think. If not, we'll make time."
Eyes finding his, Rose smiled faintly, "Says the biggest nerd I know…" Eyes softening slightly, she bit absently at the inside of her cheek, "...We…?"
At her question, Finn looked ahead, something flickering in his eyes, deep and thoughtful. "We." He echoed, softly, but firmly.
Breathing out softly, Rose nodded, and her cheeks warmed as she smiled more brightly, "...Good. Cause it's kinda hard to have a happily ever anything without you, Finn."
A fluttering sigh fell out of him, and Finn wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her close into him. "Never really thought I was cut out for a fairytale ending, if I'm honest, but you make me want one."
Blinking, Rose shifted as he did, allowing the distance to close as he pulled, "I think you deserve one, Finn. Everything… everything that's happened… you're due."
"So are you. So if you.. your stubborn butt… doesn't want anyone else, then I'm gonna have to wise up and be that prince Charming." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, eyes closing.
Her own eyes fluttered shut, breath escaping in a sigh as she curled her fingers through his free hand, "That finally clicked, hmm? Thought you'd never get it…"
With one hand squeezing hers, the other pulling her tight, Finn pressed his forehead to hers. "I'm scared, Rose. But I'm gonna make it right… and I want to do it for you."
"I've always been scared, Finn." She murmured softly, "From that first time you asked me to dance. But I also know if it wasn't right, it wouldn't be so terrifying. Cause I was never afraid of you or this. I was afraid of losing it…"
"Feels like pretty sound logic to me." He said, smiling against her. "I… I just.. I've already messed everything up. I don't ever want to do that to you again. And I missed you… so much."
"It hurt, Finn. Like… like missing a limb. For so long. And I didn't think I'd survive it… for a while. But then I did. Cause it made me stronger… better than I was. And that gave me courage. To… to hope. I never lost faith that you'd find your way back." Softly, she brushed a thumb over the arrow, "Not ever…"
As she spoke, Finn curled his fingers through her hair, twirling her locks. It made his stomach churn, to think about the way he'd hurt her, to think about all the hurt he'd caused. But he wanted to let go, to grow, to move on. "Rose, can I ask you something?" Finn murmured.
Eyes opening slightly, she nodded just slightly, smiling again, "Sure, Finn. Anything…"
"...Can I kiss you?" He whispered.
"I've been waiting a long time to hear you ask me that, again." Nodding, she smiled, "Yes, Finn. Yes."
Cupping her cheek, Finn laughed softly. "You sound a lot more confident than the last time I asked this." He mumbled, before pressing his lips against hers, enveloping her fully.
"A lot's different…" she returned, before he leaning in. Melting into his embrace, she reached to cradle his jaw, returning the kiss in full.
It was like… letting everything finally wash away. Banishing all the ache. He just wanted to be happy, he just wanted to be light, and in her embrace that light felt tangible, tangible as the air that swirled about them almost fantastically, like a true prince and princess kiss. It took him a long while to remember to come up for air, but when they finally pulled apart, he barely moved away, hand still curled in her hair.
"Is it weird to feel like you've had a first kiss twice?" He murmured.
With a breathless laugh, Rose shook her head, "Not really, no. We… we are new people, Finn. Different. Everything is gonna feel like it's happening for the first time. But that's kind of beautiful, in a way…"
"You're right." Finn mumbled, trying to let the feeling of bliss wrap him up entirely, and to will it to never let go. "I never thought I'd get to kiss you again. Hell, I never thought… I never thought I'd even see you again."
"Pretty sure our next move was hunting you down…" She teased lightly, tracing his jaw with her fingertip, "I never gave up hope that you'd find your way back. And you did… you really did."
The little touches along his skin had shivers running down his spine. "I did." He echoed, and it was almost hard to believe. "Hunt me down with love, right? Right."
A laugh echoed, as Rose nodded, gently.tapping the tip of Finn's nose, "Yeah, sweetie. Love. And three years of pent up frustration over not hearing Penny's message… but definitely love."
Finn blushed, looking up at the ceiling guiltily. "I… heard it. Some of it." He sighed. "God, I'm stupid."
Chuckling, she nuzzled closer, curling into the crook of his neck, "You were in your emo phase… All superheroes go through it. And hey… At least you never died your hair black or wear eyeliner."
Finn huffed, the air of a laugh falling out of him as he closed his eyes, basking in her warmth against him. "I got close." He assured. "Hey, be honest with me. The hair's alright though, huh?"
"I miss the curls…" She murmured softly, "But I like it. You look older." Pulling back, she studied him for a minute, "We're not kids anymore, Finn. We weren't before, but God… we were naive and sheltered. Things really are different."
Finn nodded silently in agreement, running a hand through his hair, feeling over the craggly skin on his left lobe. "Things really are different." He echoed quietly. "I feel like I should say something to Penny again… but I don't even know what."
A brow raised, and she watched the motion of his hand, her own settling in her lap, gaze shifting to his, "What do you mean?"
"I just… I want to apologize a thousand times over. I know, I know… but I just… I don't know how to make it.. right."
"You alright did, Finn. Penny loves those kids like they're her own. And saving them the way you did? Putting yourself on the line for her family? It was enough when you said you were sorry for leaving… but that? That put it over the edge." Reaching out, she brushed back his hair with a small smile, "There's nothing left to forgive."
A nervous smile flickered on his face as he wrung his hands in his lap. "They are her own.. who else's would they be?" He said softly. "I can't believe they call me uncle Finn."
"Pretty sure you won them over before you even met them. I… I may have told them some stories about you." Chuckling, she shrugged, "You're um… you're really good with them, Finn. Kids."
"O-oh," Finn said, blushing further. "You know.. it's cause I was one, for like, twenty years." He joked. "Good stories, right?"
Laughing, she shook her head, "Probably true. But either way, it… it was pretty attractive. I have to say." Giving a nod, she brushed her hair back behind her ears, "All good. Told them about how you saved Penny… and about the helicopters. And I may have embellished just slightly on the details here and there…"
Smirking, Finn leaned back on the bed. "As any good storyteller would do." He hummed, with an air of importance, despite the redness still touching his cheeks. "You flatter me too much, Rose. Kids are my people. Nothin' to it."
"Naturally. Also left out the scarier bits… like Harper going crazy and Alys and everything…" Flopping beside him, Rose chuckled, hands folding over her stomach, "Good to know." She mused quietly, eyes drifting up to the ceiling.
Finn chuckled, nodding. "Probably for the best." He murmured, watching her flop beside him. "..Did I say something wrong? You okay?"
With a smile, Rose shook her head, "No, Finn. Not at all. You said everything right. I… I'm not even sure how to process all of this, to be honest. But I'm very okay." Turning her head, she looked over at him, "Can I ask you a weird question, Finn?"
He was trying desperately hard to calm
the butterflies in his stomach, though her warm smile seemed to soothe him. "Uh, of course. But if it involves kissing you probably already know the answer." He mumbled with a lopsided grin.
Laughing softly, Rose shook her head, "Surprisingly not where I was going with that, but touche. No… I… I guess I'm just curious. Is… is that something you think you'd ever want, yourself? A… A family like Deck and Pen?"
Finn swallowed, looking up at the ceiling. "Um," Finn started, brows furrowed. "..More than anything. Besides saving the world, of course." He said with a small, awkward chuckle. "B-but… yes. When I know I'm not gonna fuck it up… yeah. What about you?"
"I… I didn't know till Travis and Zoey, but yeah. I do. I… I know how messed up the world is, and that bringing anyone into that is an enormous risk. But someday, yes. That… that's what I want. As long as it's with you." Smiling, she glanced at him again, "Nobody else I want that with."
Finn took a startled breath, coughing shortly after. "Oh, wow. You said it. Whew. You went there." He wheezed, laughing beneath it. "M.. me too, Rose. Someday."
Laughing again, she rolled over, poking his cheek with her finger, "Course I said it, you goofball. Who else would I want that with?" Pinching her lip with her teeth, she shrugged, "Just need to hurry up and save the damn world already."
Finn laughed, playfully shoving her hand away. "Alright, alright, I'm workin' on it. It's my 9-5." He teased, sitting back. "But our kids gotta have cool powers or deal's off."
"Deal's off, hmm? I'll see what I can do..." Leaning closer, Rose curved an arm carefully across his chest, pressing in close to his ear, "Think about the job benefits, though." With a teasing grin, she kissed his cheek.
Finn leaned into her gladly, smirking. "Oh yeah. The job benefits. Mr. Villain, does that include dental?" He mumbled against her, pressing a kiss to her neck.
Blinking, then laughing softly, even as color flooded her cheeks, Rose shook her head, "Sorry. Not enough employees for a full dental plan."
Finn paused to laugh, pulling her close. "Do we even get healthcare? This is bogus."
Sinking into his hold, Rose gave another shake of her head, "Nothing worth paying the premium. It's definitely bogus."
Finn groaned, shaking his head. "Terrible. Worthless. I'll call that insurance company, make 'em know we mean business." He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his chin into the crook of her neck. "I've got it, Rose. Screw saving the world. We're gonna make Metahuman insurance."
A laugh escaped again, pleasant and warm, as she curled her fingers into his hair, nodding, "Brilliant plan, sweetie. We'll be the heroes this world needs and no one'll see it coming."
Her laugh seemed to warm him, and Finn closed his eyes in relief, simply enjoying the sound. "I think I'd look good in a suit. Hell. I don't think I've ever even worn a suit."
"Hmm… I think you'd look very good in a suit." Her fingers tipped lower, tracing the curve of his shoulders, "You uh… got a little buff there, Mr. Westfall…"
Finn opened his eyes, watching her fingers trace along the fabric of his shirt. "Yeah, we been over this." He teased, letting his hands travel to the small of her back. "You'd look good in a suit too. Just saying."
"I mean… we briefly discussed the abs. But I'm not sure I was of the right mind to thoroughly appreciate the hard word you put in. You really have grown up, hm?" Meeting his eyes, she wrinkled her nose, "Could you imagine the hemming I'd need to get done, though…?"
"You'd look pretty either way." Finn murmured, absolutely melting at the sight of her wrinkling nose. "Uh, you can, appreciate it anytime." He said, despite the slight blush, and brought his hand up to brush it over her cheek admiringly.
Chuckle, Rose leaned into his palm, fingers tracing the length of his arms, then raising again till her arms looped around his shoulders, "I fully intend to…"
Finn shifted to hold her, gazing into her eyes. "Oh?" He hummed, caressing her cheek. "How so?"
"Kinda feel like if I answer that, I could get myself into trouble…" She teased, corner of her lip twitching up in a small smirk, "Just a bit."
Finn chuckled, pressing another kiss along the edge of her jaw. "With who? Just us here."
"With myself…" Rose breathed, eyes fluttering closed as she tipped into the gentle kiss, "Definitely with myself."
With one hand cupping her cheek and the other supporting her back, Finn pressed deeper into the kiss, eyes closing. "Why?" He said softly, once he broke away from the kiss.
"I...don't know." Laughing lightly, she shook her head, leaning as he did, breathless, "Right now I'm trying to remember basic vocabulary and having a real hard time."
"Is.. is this too much?" Finn mumbled, pulling away slightly, worry flickering in his eyes. "I've.. never.. uh.."
Chuckling lightly, cheeks bright, Rose shook her head, "No. No, I… I mean, I dunno. I… I haven't… either. What…" Brushing her fingertips over his jaw, she shrugged, "Guess it depends on where we're… we're drawing that line."
"Um.. I.. I'm good to draw it wherever you want to draw it." He mumbled, a deep blush taking over him, dragging his fingers in circles in the fabric of her shirt.
Leaning closer, forehead to his, Rose breathed in softly, "Thing is… maybe we don't need a line. Maybe we just… take it one step at a time? Because there's nothing I don't trust you with, Finn. And I'm not afraid of regretting anything."
"M-me too. Th-that sounds good," Finn mumbled against her, breathlessly, near in audibly. "So uh… what exactly counts as the… next step?"
"Penny would know… but heck if I'm asking her." Rose teased, eyes opening again, "Your scars, Finn… what're they really from?"
"Oh, god. Please don't bring Penny up now." He said with a short laugh, shaking his head. At her question, Finn gave pause, and pulling away from her, he tugged his shirt off, revealing the web of scars all along his upper half. "This one and this one are Harper," He said gently, pointing to the pink skin on the side of his head and the cigarette burn in the center of his palm. "On my shoulder… bullet graze running from RIEF, with Axel and Izumi." His fingers flicked over the scar, and then travelled down to his hip, then up to his chest. "Saved this guy on the street with my powers, ended up getting beat to death by a mob. Got mostly healed, but some stuff stuck. That's when the Underground found me." Finn sighed. "All just… stupid stuff, mostly, Rose."
Gingerly, Rose reached out her fingertips, tracing the lines between scars, making a map of the times and places in her mind, "You must've been so alone, Finn." She whispered, shaking her head, "So scared." Looking up, she frowned softly, "None of that sounds stupid to me."
Reaching up, she unbuttoned the first few buttons of her blouse, and turning, pulled it away from her shoulder where a small scar ran from blade tip to tip, "This was Harper, too."
Bringing his hand up, Finn gently ran his thumb over the scar she revealed. "I was scared, but I did it to myself. I deserved all these scars… and they'll serve as a reminder." He murmured, firmly, surely. Without hesitation, he pressed a kiss to the jagged line along her shoulder. "What happened?"
"It was…" Her eyes closed as his lips brushed her shoulder, and breathing in, she shuddered softly, "It was when I'd first come to his cabin. He told me to get him a drink and I… I was nervous, so I dropped it. He didn't even think twice. Picked up the broken bottle and threw it at me. I… I thought about running, but I knew I had nowhere else to go. So I… I learned after that not to drop anything else." Undoing the remaining buttons, she lowered the shirt, gesturing to a scar on the small of her back, "Didn't really make a difference… Except that the bottles hurt more when he threw them whole."
A quiet sort of anger crept over Finn, a darkness in his eyes as the second scar came into view. If he had spoken up at Rogue, told them about Harper, maybe he could have saved Rose from this torment. Maybe she wouldn't be here, showing him all this pain. Still, he traveled down further, peppering kisses on the scars. "I'm sorry." He mumbled. "He really liked throwing beer bottles, huh? Broke one on my head. That's this one." He admitted, tapping his head. "I wish… I could have saved you sooner. I wish so badly I could have."
"I don't…" She whispered, looked back at him with a shake of her head, "I would go through all of it, all over again and ten times worse, Finn… if it meant we'd end up here, every time. If you'd stopped him… We'd never have met and that… That's what saved me. Finding you."
He paused, looking up at her in shock. "Come on," Finn whispered, shaking his head. "You can't… mean that. If I could have kept you from suffering at his hand… then maybe we would have met some other way… without so much pain."
"You think I would ever chance that?" She asked, leaning back against him, head resting in the crook of his shoulder, "Not even to save myself, Finn. Not if there was even the slightest chance of not meeting you. Of not feeling the way you make me feel…"
Finn wrapped his arms around her, relishing in the touch of her skin against his, pressing kisses all along her shoulder and down her arm. "Don't say it like that…" He murmured against her. "I want you to save yourself… I don't want you to throw yourself away because of me. Not ever."
"There's no point saving myself if I can't have you, too, Finn." She smiled faintly, eyes closing, "...You're a part of me. I'm not whole without you." Sighing softly, contently, she reached for his hand and brought it around to the center of her ribs, above the tattoo of moth, "...Transformation. Got it as a reminder. Of the person I became when I met you. Something I never wanna forget."
Finn swallowed, trying to calm himself, trying to hold back the sting that suddenly welled in his eyes. "Oh." He murmured, stunned by the sincerity, the truthfulness, the fact that he, the most royal fuck up of all time, was a part of her, the most beautiful person he had ever met. "Oh." Finn repeated, sniffling.
Tipping back to look up at him, she pressed her free hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb across his with a small smile, despite the emotion welling in her own eyes, "Hey, Finn. Guess what…?"
Between sniffles, Finn leaned into her touch, still astounded at just how close together they were, physically and emotionally. "What?" He murmured.
Curling closer, nuzzling into his neck, she smiled a little brighter, her voice dropping to soft whisper, "I love you."
Finn laughed, shimmering and hopeful, and if he could have enveloped her any tighter at this point, he would have. "I love you too." He replied, and kissed her deeply again.
Curling closer, she sank into the depth, allowing her arms to curve around his shoulders, pulling herself tightly to him. Forehead to his, she pulled away with a breath, "...Just… maybe just say it… one more time for me? Cause, God, did I miss hearing that."
Finn grinned, again pulling a hand through her hair, pressing their noses together. "I love you, Rose… and I never stopped loving you. I'm sorry, a thousand times over… and I really do love you."
Beaming, Rose hugged herself tightly to him, her lips finding his lips, his jaw, the tip of his nose as she peppered him with gentle kisses, and a small, delicate laugh, "...Still the best words I've ever heard anyone say."
He had never been so showered in love like this, covered in delicate kisses like he meant the world, after being so sure just days ago that he meant absolutely nothing. "Agreed." Finn murmured, filled with raw, almost trembling emotion. "I love you." He said again, and he had never meant anything more. "Just wanted to make sure it sounded alright."
Breathing in, she slid her fingers through his, bringing his knuckles to her forehead with a small shudder of emotion. Her free hand cupped his jaw, her gaze soft, warm as she looked up again, meeting his eyes, "...Show me?"
Finn nodded breathlessly in her touch, moving forward again to kiss her, gently laying her down on the bed with an arm at her back to support her, radiating in the warmth of her love.
Some time later, when night had pulled the curtain along the skyline, and silence was punctured only by the subtle melody of crickets and one particularly guttural bullfrog, Rose lay with her chin on Finn's chest, tracing tiny circles carefully around his wounded side. Peace had settled over the room, and a soft hum escaped her, a tune she normally sang to ease Travis on tougher nights, as her tiptoeing fingers slowly traveled to the rose tattoo, her smile warming, cheek flattening over his heart.
The peace that he felt in that moment was hard to describe, simply for the fact that he hadn't been this at ease for four long years. Eyes closed, though not asleep, Finn basked in the presence of Rose, in her sweet melody. One hand played absently with her hair, twirling her brown locks and occasionally gracing her cheek, and the other rested comfortably against her back, holding her close. It was almost painful to open his mouth, to break the blanket of comforting silence, but Finn couldn't help himself. "What song is that?" He murmured.
Shifting, Rose looked up to Finn, and her smile softened as she shook her head, "I don't really know. When I was home… before things got bad, and I ran away, I had an Au Pair who would sing it to me at night, before bed. It's kind of a habit, now. When Travis has bad nights… too much in his head, I'll hum it for him."
Finn sighed lovingly, letting his fingers drift around the curve of her chin a little longer. "That's… lovely." He mumbled, not sure how else to put it, how infatuated with her he was. "All my nannies were jerks. Frankly, I was a jerk in response, but that's how it goes…" Finn pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. "You have a beautiful voice."
Chuckling softly, she nodded, "I was a suck up… But I was also terrified my parents would let my Aunt Muriel watch me if I misbehaved… She was terrifying. Gigantic woman with bright red lipstick… more of it on her teeth than her lips. And she would make me watch old reruns of Bonanza while she smoked and talked about her seventeen cats." Shuddering, she looked up at him, "How you feel?"
Finn cringed at her vivid description, sure he could almost hear the godawful woman. "Eugh." He said, shaking his head. "You really ruined the mood there, Stitch. Nice going." He sighed again, shaking his head with a smile. "I'm good. Better than good. Great. You?"
Laughing softly, she poked his side, "Hey, now. The mood is just fine. And you brought up mean nannies." Pressing a kiss about his head, she nodded, before rolling on her back, pulling the covers up and curling into the crook of his arm, "...I'm… really good. No… Great definitely covers it for me, too."
"And you brought up that terrifyingly horrible description of Aunt Muriel." Finn retorted, sinking into the warmth of the covers, happily enveloping her. "I wish we could stay like this forever." He hummed.
Chuckling lightly, Rose nodded, "Fair point. She was pretty horrific." With a small murmur of agreement, she sighed, "I like the sound of forever… But we've got a long road to go… figuratively and literally. Should probably try to sleep."
Finn sighed, pressing a kiss into the bend of her shoulder. "I know, I know." The idea of sleep normally scared him. He hadn't forgotten that the last time he'd awoken, he'd grabbed Rose as if she were a figment of his nightmares. Finn didn't want to scare her like that again, ever again, but… under the new circumstances… maybe this would be different.
"I haven't really slept well in four years." He murmured. "Or felt.. any peace at all, really."
"Same…" She noted, before shaking her head, "But I think… we'll be alright tonight. I have never felt more safe, Finn." Leaning up to kiss the edge of his jaw, she curled close, "I love you… So much."
There was a certain fear in submitting to the darkness, and it climbed up in Finn's throat in a familiar way. But her kiss banished the thoughts and Finn closed his eyes, cuddling against her, content to fall asleep just like this. "I love you too." He mumbled, smiling sleepily. "I think we'll be alright." He echoed.
Pounce, Part 1 Collab between: Francis @CloudyBlueDay , Lucas @Mobley Eats , members of the Ten @Elle Joyner , and Tommy.
As the world seemed to close and contort around them, pressure growing and stomachs tightening, Francis wondered if this is what it would have felt like if the plane made it to the ground nose first. It was getting harder to breathe, the oxygen was thinning, like the altitude was decreasing too quickly. Maybe they never got off the plane. Maybe they were dead and this was just the last bit of life left in her body denying the inevitable.
A snap. White room, white walls, screeching metal chairs. Francis thought she was going to keel over, her insides protesting the sudden change of scenery. It took a moment for her vision to clear, but the moment she laid eyes on the gaunt figure before her…
Maybe they were in hell after all.
Her body reacted before her brain had time to catch up. This had always been the case with Fran, throughout her entire life. Rage burned within her small body. He'd lured them here. Promised them safety. Promised them help. Instead, it was another trap. Another sick, twisted game, courtesy of her big brother and his lackeys. She lunged forward on instinct, but barely made it half a step.
A force had frozen her in place, eyes wide as her hands were outstretched and stuck in time, poised to wrap around Neil's throat only to be paused before it could happen. A fucking Telekinetic. Fear wrapped around her heart, and she spared a glance to Lucas. It only made her worry more. They were stuck in this together… in her psycho brother's hands… all she wanted was to go home.
Still, Neil didn't need to know that.
"You motherfucker!Son of a bitch! Have your little bitch unhand me and I swear to god I will finish what the hell I started last time and beat you into the ground so hard they won't be able to piece you back together!"
Lucas had undergone some insanely intense trips in his life, whether they were willing or not was far from the point. All that he could focus on was the knots twisting up a storm in his stomach the moment their reality shifted. Chaning. Morphing. Blinding. Discomfort. He hated every last second of it.
Only for that hatred to burn into a righteous fury.
There were too many questions, not a single ounce of time allowed to mull over them. There was one face that set off a trigger within him similar to Fran's, before it billowed and spilled over the newcomers like a wave of lava. In a heartbeat, he solidified into diamond once more--wurtzite, the strongest kind his body could possibly summon, and barreled straight for the woman holding Fran hostage.
A wave of distorted vision and nausea washed over him like a tsunami. "S-seriously… now," he grunted while falling to one knee. Christ. Even after all these years of honing his abilities, screwing around with his molecular makeup right after several upsets to his equilibrium was beyond risky. And now he was paying for it. Some of the diamond hide started to recede back through his pores, starting at the top of his head and working down. Lucas glared at the trio before him, gaze lingering especially on Neil. "The actual fuck is going on!" he growled.
"Franny… Really, now. Is that the way to greet your brother?" Grin widening, Neil gave a small, barely distinguishable nod to the man standing beside him, "I told you she would be unreasonable, Theo."
"But we have ways of making people reasonable, don't we?" With a small smirk, Theo took a step closer, "Neil also told me you're not a particularly… sentimental creature. Honestly, I can't blame you. Everything you've been through. But if his notions are right…" Raising a hand, he brushed aside the hair from her shoulders, a fingertip glancing across the collar of her sweater before finding the chain, tugging her necklace free, "Ah. Yes. There it is. Your mothers, no? Lovely…"
Pinching the charm between his fingers, he breathed in as the metal caught a bright red glimmer. Looking up, his eyes met hers, "I snap my finger, and that blows, my dear. And unless your heart is located elsewhere in that magnificent body of yours, you probably won't walk away… And we don't want that, do we. So what you're going to do is… take a deep breath, tell your boyfriend to cool his tits and sit down, so we can have us a proper conversation. Deal?"
Fran's breath caught in her throat as Lucas fell. Panic gripped her tightly, wondering what they had done to him, what had happened… wondering how the hell they were going to get out of this. She tried with all her might to squirm away as Neil's toy stepped up, watching his fingertips trace around her skin in the most unsettling of ways and then wrap around the necklace. No…
Eyes blazing with fury, she stared him straight in the eyes as she cleared her throat and shot a glob of spit in his face. "It's a piece of metal. If you want to talk, you are gonna put me the fuck down… and maybe I'll consider it. If your genius idea is to take a necklace from me… then my dear brother doesn't know me at all."
Lucas's teeth gnashed as he neared Fran, rocketing to his feet the moment he pulled out her necklace. A deep shade of red filled his face, running all the way down to the diamond dwindling around his collar. "Don't you fucking dare touch--..." But then a blizzard froze his lungs over, watching with bubbling unrest as the pendant was transformed into a literal bomb.
Jaw clenched, his forced the fire in his gut to cool, the hatred in his eyes to bring itself down to a simmer. He cracked a plastic smile as Fran shot a satisfying loogie in the man's face. "Oh, don't you worry, I'm calm," he muttered flatly, "It makes ripping people apart that much easier." Slowly, he sat down, sticking close to Fran's suspended form while glaring ice daggers through her captor. "Let her down. Now."
With a laugh, Theo reached to wiped the spit from his cheek, "You were right, Neil… she is a little bitch." Leaning in, the smile faded, "If you think destroying your bling was the goal, my dear, you're woefully mistaken. There's enough charge there to render you to paste. So shut your damn mouth, and listen up…"
Neil grinned, moving to the chairs again, as Samera cleared her throat, "Should I...?"
"Not just yet, Mer." Another voice filtered into the room, as the door opened, and a man, slightly older than the others stepped inside, "She's a bit feistier than I'd like her."
"She can't hold it forever, Isaac." Atticus noted.
"Well… Then I suppose we should get started. Atticus.. Will you gather the others?"
"What about him?" Atticus asked, heading for the door.
"Him, too. We may need him…" Moving past Fran and Lucas, the man came into view, "I apologize for the uh… circumstances. Unfortunately, things have escalated a bit faster than we imagined, and time tables needed to adjust."
It didn't fucking end. The tricks Neil pulled out of his sleeve, the evils he found to align himself with. It would never fucking end… all she wanted was peace, with her Lovely, with her family, and it kept on being taken from them. Her breathing was quick and panicked, though her eyes were still full of rage, even if Lucas' protective presence beside her was comforting. It wasn't enough to ever keep them safe.
At least Neil wasn't the big shot in this parade. No, it was clear that whoever this older man was, he ran the show. A growl resounding low in her throat, she wished she had saved her loogie for this idiot instead.
"You… apologize?" Fran snarled, mock disbelief painting her tone. She was too feisty for their liking? Well then, she'd fucking stay that way. "What the fuck do you want from us, and who the fuck do you think you are?! Put me down!" Who were they bringing here? What was this? How were they going to get out?
"Anus sure does love to talk shit…" Lucas muttered while watching Atticus leave, his gaze burning through the man's back like twin lasers. Either way, his attention then shifted over to yet another new face and Lucas didn't want anything more than to groan in a mixture of exasperation and annoyance. No, his sentiments went beyond annoyance, but he knew he wasn't allowed to let his emotions take control of the wheel right now. Not with that bomb around Fran's neck.
Wait… He recognized this dude. Well, sort of. Mostly. He was definitely a Rogue guard, specifically for Yul. What in the hell was he doing here? Questions rushed through his mind at millions of miles per hour, but he refused to let any confusion show on his face. His expression remained placid and unreadable. "More? Seriously? Nice to know you can't possibly take us without five more on your end." As he spoke, he cautiously eyed Mer for any tick or suspicious move. Any faltering whatsoever.
Staring into empty space was hardly what most would call training. Especially compared the more…. visible displays of ability he'd seen from his new teammates. Right…'teammates.' Tommy might still be a little bitter about that one.
They certainly didn't have much comraderie to spare for even themselves, let alone some too short, too thin, too young newcomer of a mutant that had been thrust upon them. At least with Alastor, at least with the others, he could almost claim they were a family. Dysfunctional, distrustful, but they could work together.
And then, wouldn't you have it, half of the four of their little family were snatched without warning. Something foul curled in Tommy's gut at the memory. Guilt, remorse, a feeling closer to terror than he would like all knotting tightly enough to make his stomach churn. That was why he was here, though. Alastor struck a deal; it was time to see it through.
Of course, that was easier said than done when you were waiting to hear that plans had begun to be set in motion. Truthfully, Tommy was bored out of his mind. It was odd, foreign even, to find himself with nothing yet set in front of him. So, in the absence of a mission from Grey, he'd taken it upon himself to find his entertainment. His eyes travelled the room, over the figures of his newer teammates, and subtly shifted pieces of the puzzle. Something a little further to the left that it actually was, the heaviness of one's limbs, the things they would and would not notice….
Needless to say, Tommy was wreaking havoc in the smallest of ways from his corner of the room where he sat, speaking to no one else.
The door to the common longue opened and Atticus stepped through, his hands resting on his hips as a deep sigh escaped, "Round up, everyone. Boss wants us in the Echo Chamber with Thing 1 and Thing 2. You too, Little Bit." He gestured to Tommy, as the others began to filter out into the hall.
"Yes, yes… threats and rage and bravery, blah blah blah… You're both very impressive, really. Promise. Boots shaking, and all that..." Rolling his eyes, the man sank into one of the chairs beside the metal table, kicking his feet up onto the table surface. His arms curled behind his head and he took a small breath, "If you're done, I'd really prefer to have this conversation without you hovering about like a ghoul… Your choice, but that can't be comfortable, and I need to know you're not going to try and do something stupid and embarrassing if I have Samera release you..."
Drumming her fingers against her arm in the corner opposite to Tommy was a young, red headed woman. Her jaw was tight, and something wasn't quite right in her eyes, and while one hand was occupied playing rhythms that didn't exist, the other allowed little sparks of flame to dance upon her fingertips. She didn't pay much mind to the boy in the room with her, and if she noticed his tricks, it didn't seem to show. Mollie was preoccupied in a world past the one they were standing in, and only snapped out of it when Atticus opened the door. Lips pursed, she followed him out without any protest, finally lifting her gaze up to the blonde boy for just a moment, icy blue eyes blank before leaving the room.
Meanwhile, exhaustion was creeping over Fran more quickly than she would have liked. Dangling above the ground, barking and snapping as if she were clipped on a leash… she was tired. Nobody, the plane crash, the teleportation… the resurfacing of her brother… it was hitting her all at once, unrelentlessly, and if they hadn't killed them yet, then maybe it was true that all they wanted to do was talk. A strange notion, for sure, especially if Neil was involved. But as she looked to Lucas, the raging fire in her eyes diminished but not dead, she understood that snarling insults wouldn't get them out of this. Especially not with the bomb wrapped around her neck, and she didn't feel like dying twice just yet.
This man annoyed her, angered her more than anything. Rage and bravery? They'd been kidnapped, captured, had the story twisted on them. They had been lured here with the idea that they would be protected, not tortured. And he still whined and cooed at them like they were the problem, and he expected a solution.
Fine.
"Just… put me down." Francis muttered lowly, locking eyes with Theo. Her voice was calmer, and it was as far as she would go to show that she wouldn't kill any of them immediately after being released.
Lucas's exhaustion and rage matched Fran's like a mirror. He was over all of this. Completely. If it wasn't for the fact that he had enough composure left over to smother the violent urges clawing at his insides, he probably would've done something reckless by now. No… That was a lie. He still wouldn't have. Because they had his Lovely. With a fucking bomb around her neck. And stuck. And capitalizing on their cozy pocket of safety to throw out words that made them feel big…
This was ultimately the worst showing of compensation that he'd ever seen.
But fine. Lucas would succumb to this dude's ego. He was used to that. He piped up a moment after Fran. "We get it. Talking's in order. You can start saying the stuff that matters now."
Tommy's focus broke, his attention snapping over to Atticus as he stepped through the door. He scowled at the "little bit" comment, but said nothing as he brought himself to his feet. He looked up, towards the opposite corner, only to feel his chest freeze up as the redhead locked eyes with him.
Right. He forgot about that, and the things that unsettled him in ways he couldn't quite explain when it came to his new teammates. Things that reminded him of the people he'd rather forget.
Now wasn't the time, though. He'd been asked for specifically. Which usually meant one thing in particular with this group. He cast a look towards Atticus as he began to follow the others into the hall, the silent question of if he was needed for what he thought it was.
He hovered near Atticus even as he walked, waiting for the answer to his unaired question. He crossed his arms, curling in on himself, making him smaller than he already was. Maybe that was dangerous, given present company, but he always winged it anyway. It was showtime, and first impressions were everything. It was time to pay his part of the bargain. Time to try to get them back.
"Just a moment, then…" Isaac answered with a bob of his head, as a few others… some faces familiar, some not so much began to filter into the room. They kept towards the door, quiet. Observant. The last to enter was Atticus, who gave Isaac a firm nod. Looking out past the man, his eyes drifting to the younger member of the team, Isaac smirked, "Excellent."
Kicking his legs to the floor again, steepling his hands in his lap, he cleared his throat, "Samera… If you would?"
Gingerly… like setting down a glass vase, Samera lowered Francis back to the floor, and a moment later the link was severed, allowing the blonde all the movement she desired. The necklace gave a pulse, just for a beat, as Theo's fingers brushed together, before he reached out and tapped the charm with his fingertip, giving her a wink, "There you go, darlin'... Safe and sound."
Clearing his throat again, brows raising at Theo, who took a calculated step back, Isaac gestured to two chairs before the table, "Please… have a seat. I believe you know most everyone. The charmer, that's Theo… and our latest acquisitions here are Tommy and Mollie. A few of our crew are out, currently, but you'll get a chance to meet them soon, I imagine." His eyes drifted briefly, beyond Tommy and towards the doorway, and after a moment, he continued.
"Well then, I suppose we should just cut to the chase. It's no small question our teams have… brushed up against each other now and again over the last few years. To say there's some animosity is probably a bit of an understatement. The choices Kaiden Hull made were… a bit limited… narrow-minded, if you would, and I expect there's some lingering resentments on both sides. Fact of the matters is, we've a common enemy, now. One, Jeremiah Kane. A man who is dead set on eliminating all of us and has the military backing to do so. Way I see it, we can spend the rest of our short lives bitching back and forth at one another, or… we can do something about it. You have ties to Rogue… What it was before that nutjob Yul took over, anyway, and we have our own resources. Between our two groups, I see no reason why we can't put aside differences to ensure we aren't wiped out for our own stubborn nature. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, as they say…"
The moment she was set down, the moment the trigger happy dickface stepped away, Francis stepped close to Lucas and stayed tight against him. She didn't crash into his arms like she wanted too, but she took just the touch of his arm against hers as a renewing of strength and stood firm beside him and against the world. The room filled, and most faces looked unfriendly. A blonde tuft of hair had her heart hopeful for a moment, but it only revealed a baby faced young boy… so young, and already twisted up with the wrong people.
As the so called leader began his speech, Francis felt wave after wave of emotion hurtle through her. Disbelief. Anger. Confusion. She was out of the loop… running away to France would do that. She stayed standing, even when Isaac gestured to the chairs, her hand finding Lucas'.
"I'm sorry… who the fuck do you think we are? Who the fuck do you think I am? Think I'm just gonna call in the cavalry and off to war we fucking go?" She spat. "And if you think I'd ever work with my psycho brother…" A strained laugh fell out of her, though it held absolutely zero humor as she shot Neil a look that screamed murder. "The Rogue you want is gone. People are spread out, tired, and I sure as hell ain't the person to round them all up. You're talking about Kaiden like he isn't still trying to play President… and who the hell is Jeremiah Kane?" Francis ground her teeth together. "We want out of this life, not back in it. Seems like you have enough toys to play with already."
Lucas had stuck close to Fran the same moment she did, meeting her partway to squeeze her hand tightly, thumb discreetly caressing her knuckles. She screamed and shouted with the rage of an untamable dragon, but he knew better. He knew better than anyone else in that room of the exhaustion and pain and fear crackling in the pit of her gut. It was nothing short of a fact to say that he was experiencing the same feeling.
Eyes bitter, he scoffed and shook his head. With every moment trapped in this fucked up to kingdom come situation, the less motivation he had to listen to begin with. "And here I thought he would start making sense…" he sighed under his breath before addressing Theo and others directly. "Listen… I know it's been a while since you've waltzed Rogue halls and tasted sink metal, but Fran's right. We're not the same, man. There aren't any forces to draw together and even if there were…" He shrugged. "You're tossing out some damn flimsy incentive." However, he couldn't resist the inkling of curiosity nagging at the back of his skull.
He squinted. "Why're you coming to us, huh? Could've been any other Rogue member… So why us? Personal influence?" He shot a glare Neil's direction at the mention of personal, before focusing on Theo again.
"...You haven't heard?" A brow raised, and sitting up a little straighter, Isaac seemed, for a moment, genuinely uneasy, before the expression faded, and at the corner of his lip, a small, wry smile formed, "Won't be sorry, I'm sure, to find out Kaiden Hull is dead. Gunned down, in fact, by one of your lot. Fish… or… Flynn… something. I don't remember. Gangly. Lots of hair. Anyway… I would've thought this would be old news to you, but I suppose you really were off the grid for a while there." Rising, Isaac moved behind the desk and pulling it open, retrieved a folder, which he slid across the surface, "As for incentive, well, just remember… you asked."
Allowing the smallest of relieved breaths to escape her as Lucas' thumb brushed over her knuckles reassuringly, she took the grounding moment to center herself and keep herself alert, eyes keen and wary of every face in the room. Even if they were extending an offer, she trusted not a damn one of them.
"Kaiden Hull is… dead?" She muttered, surprise coloring her features. Her brow scrunched together, the names he threw out not quite clicking at first until… Finn? Finn? Francis guffawed. "Now… now I know you're fucking with us. There's no way. He's been m.. missing! And he wouldn't hurt a goddamn fly…" She shook her head vehemently, too attached to the image of the young man to believe such a thing. No way. This was bullshit, they were spouting bullshit just to make them more willing to comply. Fuck that. Fuck that.
Teeth bared in a snarl, she snatched the file from Isaac's hands abruptly, thumbing through it angrily at first before stopping in her tracks. The first few places she didn't recognize, only that they were brutally demolished. But then…
"N-no… Levi." She could feel the color drain from her face. No, no no no. They were fine, they were okay, they were safe… oh god, how scared they must have been. Alone, without them there to protect them. Levi and Daisy weren't heavy hitters, Fran knew that and wh-what if they'd been taken or hurt…
"A-and you think this.. m-makes me want to work with you?! You think this is fucking incentive?!" Francis snarled.
Dead… There was no way in hell. Just how detached were Lucas and Fran from the outside world while honeymooning in France? He thought they would at least catch a whiff of this development and yet, they had to find out from this asshole. The mere thought made his insides burn like a furnace… Only to freeze over. "Yeah, you…" His brow pinched in disbelief. "You can't be serious. He's not like that! He's… We know him, alright! And we barely know you! Like hell we'd believe that."
However, Lucas froze at the offered folder, gaze hesitantly straying to the images as Fran flipped through them one by one. Destruction after destruction. Fire. Burned down buildings. Discord. Danger. Where in the hell were these places? And why was Isaac showing them--
Lucas's blood ran cold. His lips parted to speak, to say anything that could possibly drown out the horrific realization rushing into his head, but it was fruitless. Every inch of being slackened with shock, the only part of him retaining any signs of life clenched tightly around Fran's hand. He couldn't speak. His big, cocky, dumb mouth couldn't speak. Those were fake. That wasn't their home. This was all a cruel, twisted lie.
Tommy watched closely, carefully, as emotions flowed through the pair and twisted their expressions. As they flipped through the pictures Isaac had handed over as "incentive", a knot in his stomach formed and tightened. He watched as Francis' face twisted in anger and stayed there. His gaze flicked to Francis, to Lucas, to Francis again, and then over to Isaac.
That wasn't good. Perhaps a miscalculation, or maybe he wasn't finished. Regardless, Isaac wasn't particularly winning them over.
His eyes moved over the pair in front of him once again, weight shifting from foot to foot. He swayed as he tested the weight of the decisions he could make. These two didn't trust them; fair. Tommy didn't know the history here, but he could hazard a guess it was nothing particularly good. He just knew that if they didn't trust them enough to work with them, it wouldn't help them even a tiny bit.
The best way to deal with distrust was with the truth, or so he'd been told.
He stepped out from just behind Atticus, and then took a step forward to leave his bubble of anonymity behind. He jammed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, hunched posture making him even smaller than he was. He looked up at the pair, eyes flicking between them one last time before the words left his mouth.
"That wasn't any of us. That was Kane."
"And he's not finished. Your friends… the Gunners. They're alive. Daisy Gunner went into false labor this afternoon and the family was enroute to the hospital when that…" Isaac gestured to the picture, "Occurred. At the same time, Peter Gunner's apartment building was hit. The diner fell last night. And I needn't remind you of what happened on your plane. We've done our best to inform the former members to lay low, our own and Rogue… but not all can be reached. Not all believe us…"
Giving a shrug, Isaac shifted, "Jeremiah Kane is a madman… One with a purpose. And he will not stop until he's put every one of you in the ground. The incentive, my dear, is that we want to return the favor… and see him to an early grave. But he's a step ahead. His resources. His ability to track us down… We need man power. And whether or not you want to see it, we're better off working together on this. Unless… you'd prefer the next folder of pictures I drop in front of you not be the close calls… but his successes?"
Francis's eyes burned with rage. She couldn't be scared, not in front of them, and anger was always her substitute of choice. But this… this pissed her off. This man thought waving pictures of their home, talking about how their lives were endangered, would suddenly make her want to work with them. And not only that, but he had baby-faced operatives to boot, because they were really that dried up.
"Fuck all of you." Francis hissed. "I'm not working with your band of psychos! I protect my own. I protect my family. And you fuckers are not my family. So… so thanks for the info, and we're gonna do with it whatever we fuckin' wish! Show us the goddamn door!"
Lucas knew Fran well--sometimes far better than he knew himself. And in that moment, he was well aware of the dismantling chaos brewing under her skin, heating up her freckled face and pulling back her lips into a snarl. This was how she handled fear. And yet, Lucas couldn't bring himself to express anything aside from painful stagnation. Should he scream? Should he threaten and yell out demands? Should he remain quiet? Should he say something to this poor, used, manipulated kid standing before them?
Too many emotions were coursing through him at once.
So Lucas did the only thing his mind could handle. He locked eyes with Tommy. "Listen… I don't know what kind of fucked shit they got over you, but I can already tell you're too good to be here." His free hand curled into a fist inside his pocket. "Where do you see the benefit in being here? What do all of you…?" Words failed him after that, his gaze roaming the other mutants in blatant disbelief.
Tommy felt his heart twist in his chest as Francis swore through her teeth. He stopped himself from casting a wild-eyed look of worry to the people beside him. He grit his jaw, eyes still wide as his mind raced to form some sort of response. Some sort of plea. He couldn't fail. He couldn't. He had to do something. He had to say something. Something, something, something.
"Please." The word left his mouth not entirely of his own volition, his voice cracking on the single syllable. He took a breath, albeit a shaky one, as he turned to face Francis. "Please. I don't...I don't know what your history is with each other. I don't know what's going on between you, or what has gone on. I just… Please. Kane took people from me. I get it. You want to protect your family, but the people Kane took, they're the closest thing to family I have. Besides these guys, they're all I've got." He gestured briefly to the people around him, beside him.
His voice refused to steady. Damnit. Damnit, why couldn't he just talk normally? His gaze shifted to Lucas, locking eyes with the other man. "I'm here because they said they can help. I'm here because I just want them back. And as long as Kane has them, none of us are safe. As long as Kane is able to, he'll hunt us all down," he continued, swallowing thickly. Please, please, please, he needed this to work. He swallowed again, fighting the knot that threatened to tie his tongue as well. "He found us once, and that was without a mutant tracker. With him…." He trailed off, shaking his head as he broke eye contact, eyes cast to the floor.
"I just want to not be hunted anymore."
"And you won't be, Little Bit…" Atticus answered, "You wanna know why we stay? It's like he says… we're all each other has. Rogue? Didn't come for us, did they? But Hull did. He brought us together… made us a family. Held us--"
"You self-righteous little bitch." With a cold laugh, Neil leaned up against the wall, arms crossed, "You're gonna judge us… like you're so damn innocent. You and loverboy here run off to Paris on some joyride honeymoon, left everyone here like life's good and cozy. But then… it's easy, isn't it? ALeaving people behind."
"Neil…" Isaac started, voice a warning.
"...Didn't stop to think about any of it… The repercussions. I know what I am, Francis. Always have. Never shied away from it or pretended… But you? You were always trying so hard to prove how different we are. But we're not different. Not really." The corner of his mouth twitched up, hands dropping to his sides, "...You just hide behind that mask, and everyone believes it. Don't even care that--"
"Enough, Neil." Rising, Isaac frowned, "...We're not doing this, right now."
"...Fine. Your call." Giving a shrug, Neil crossed his arms again, "...Not a word."
With a sigh, Isaac shifted, looking to Francis and Lucas, "...You don't have to help, but I never made the disillusion that if you chose not to, you were free to go. You can leave when Kane's dead. If you wanna speed up the process, great. Otherwise… we'll show you to your cells."
"No, no! No, please! We can do this right now!" Fran insisted, her snarl morphing into a grin, teeth bared. Lucas was so much better than her, latching onto the only clear innocent left in the room. She felt awful for him, truly, she did. She could see a kid among psychos, scared, panicked. She'd been like that once. But how the hell were they supposed to rescue him if he thought these were the people who were going to save the day?
"You think… that we are the same?" Her voice rose in pitch mockingly. "What the fuck do you want from me, Neil? Did you want me to stick behind and nurse you back to health? My poor big brother, all alone because he's only a little crazy… because he only worked with RIEF just a little to wipe us the fuck out… because he took RIEF's hand and left our home as he watched our parents get MURDERED!!" She roared.
"Hull made a family of cowards and freaks to do his bidding and you just want to pretend that you weren't the bad guys. Life was good and cozy when you were out of the fucking way. I'm not the one who left people behind… I was fifteen, Neil! Fifteen! And you left me and our parents for dead. You want to tell me I'm the one who likes leaving people behind? Fucking go ahead."
Then, her gaze fell to the young boy. "If you think… these people are going to help you… then you're sorely fucking mistaken." All of the old shit she'd worked past. Everything she and Lucas had worked so hard to put behind them. Here she was again, bubbling up like a little kid. Fuck, she couldn't help it. She just couldn't.
Shoulders heaving with anger, Francis turned back to Isaac. "Let's hope Kane dies quickly, then. Lock me the fuck up."
Lucas's nostrils flared the moment Neil had the balls to speak, let alone in Fran's direction. He would've blown up himself, but she had it completely covered, taking the exact words right out of his mouth and then more. This was her battle, her past, and he would let her handle it with his quiet support all the while. Regardless, he couldn't help the way his heart leapt into his throat; there was still the kid. There was still the desperation and broken color to his tone. Absolutely nothing about his pleas came across as fake to Lucas, and listening to every syllable was the equivalent of a punch to the gut. He wanted to help. But he wanted out of this clusterfuck situation as well. The real question resided in which he desired more.
He just didn't have an answer.
So, for now, he would stick with Fran's.
"...Cells," he muttered, avoiding eye contact with Tommy. With everyone. "We're not joining your shit show."
"...Of course you'd choose that." With a smirk, Neil shook his head again, "Not even surprised. You wanna know why I did it, Francis? Because I'm not an idiot. I saw the way you all looked at me. The things you said. The whole damn compound… I went to RIEF because they wanted me! They weren't afraid of me. Of what I could do. They celebrated it. But that's the way you think, isn't it? We're the bad guys. Cause we didn't do what you wanted us to do. Cause you're always right, aren't you? I may manipulate inanimate objects, but you? You manipulate people. That's your real power. You twisted that poor little sucker around your finger, so fast. Didn't even give a damn that he was crazy about you. Everyone could see it. Hell, I lived in a basement, and I figured it out. But you? Just played him. And he still mourned you like God damn Eva Peron. And then what do you do with your little reunion? Throw him away like trash… Cause you got something better? Best damn thing that coulda happened to the idiot… winding up dead in the gutter."
Tommy felt every vein, every drop of blood in his body, turn into ice the moment Neil opened his mouth. Slowly, he turned his head to face him, expression never changing from frozen, numb disbelief. "Are….are you serious? Are you serious right now?" he asked, voice low. "...I'm sorry, I'm a little confused. I've clearly missed something here. Are these people not who we're asking for help? You know, people we'd potentially have to work with if they agreed? If they agree?"
He started shaking his head, breath shaking for an entirely different reason than before. "You are seriously choosing now to have your petty squabble, you know, when people are getting hunted and dying." He grit his jaw. He might've said more. He wanted to say more. Seriously? Now? He chose now? There was a weight on his shoulder, though; a small reminder.
Let it go for now. Plot pretty shin kicking revenge later.
He was still shaking his head as his gaze shifted to Francis. "Won't you tell me who will help, then, if they won't? Because you're making it very clear that you're not going to help me either." His gaze flickered to Lucas, only to find him avoiding his eyes. Probably wise, all things considered. He swiped a hand down his face in frustration, working his jaw as he slunk back beside Atticus. He'd done what he could.
"Can't fix stupid, Little Bit…" Atticus sighed, eyeing Neil, "Right… guess you two are with me, then."
"Thank you, Atticus." Isaac noted, rubbing a hand down his face, "Nine and ten, please. No.. Better make it nine and twelve. A little distance. To think things over. Inhibitors are primed. If… " Lowering his hand, he glanced between the two, "If you change your mind, just… ask for me."
Her anger began to melt. It never fully faded away, but it transformed into something else. Confusion. Was he… was he talking about… Logan? God, if her heart could sink any further into her gut, it just had. The tightness in her brow gave way to pure disbelief. "M… manipulate people? Are y-you talking about… Logan's fucking childhoodcrush?" She shook her head in disbelief, a hand scraping through her hair. And then… he said it. Dead? Dead? No, Logan wasn't dead. He was fucking stupid but not that stupid…
"Fuck you… you're lying." Her voice finally quieted, a broken whisper. She'd run out of energy. She'd lost all will to snap back. "He's not dead. And I did not manipulate him. I didn't fucking know!" She hissed. "And you… you have it all fucking wrong." A crack in her tone. "Mom and dad loved you. I loved you. You were my big brother. I don't know where you decided in your big head that we didn't… but just remember now, that it's fucking past tense." Even though she had clearly lost her moxy, her eyes still shone with rage, grabbing Neil's gaze with ferocity.
A chill ran down her spine at the thought of being separated from Lucas. She needed him more than anything right now, and they weren't even giving them that. Bastards. She knew the moment they locked her up she'd break, and all she wanted was her Lovely. Everyone saw fit to decide who she got to love. She just wanted him.
With her last breath of energy she looked back towards the boy. Small, nervous, scared. She fucked up. Letting her anger get the best of her, letting Neil taunt her. Rile her up. In the middle of it all, he was caught in the crossfire. Waiting until he caught her eyes, Francis mouthed, "I'm sorry."
Cells weren't shit. As long as there was a roof over his head, as long as he was still breathing, and as long as he still had a full tank of resentment fueling his every thought, then staying cooped up in a cell would be child's play.
...At least, that's what Lucas would've felt a few years ago. But now he had Fran and loving this woman had been nothing short of spiritually healing; he couldn't imagine being separated from her. Not right now. Not like this. Not by force. Instinctively, his grip on her hand tightened and his nostrils flared, roasting Isaac alive with his glare. He didn't need shit from Isaac and he never would.
Huffing, his attention then landed on Fran, momentarily taken aback by how much her raged had dwindled. But following her gaze made him realize what message she was trying to convey and the receiver in question.
They were… Christ, they really did fuck up. Everything about this situation was fucked up. He wished to also look at the boy and fabricate some sort of apology, any conglomerate of words to express his emotions, but those sentiments were an ugly maelstrom at the moment. Relaying all of that would be nothing short of impossible.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he decided to look ahead again, avoiding eye contact with everyone. He refused to look defeated, because he was far from it, but he didn't have anything to say to these people.
As Francis attempted to make eye contact with him, Tommy turned away. He could guess what she'd mouthed as she caught his eye. "Sorry" didn't fix things. "Sorry" didn't patch up bruises. "Sorry" didn't change what had been done. Apologies meant nothing when it felt like his world was falling apart. He learned that particular lesson long before he'd ever dreamed of being involved with groups like this. He'd learned that long before the stake of mutant lives faced something like this.
So he paid it no mind as Francis sought his eye contact and Lucas avoided it, and the eye contact of everyone, really.
He settled for crossing his arms and boring a hole into Neil's forehead through pure staring power alone. He shuffled just a touch closer to Atticus, though he was more than aware of those around him. Even if he had to leave to deal with putting these two in cells, Tommy could take his sliver of comfort now when he could get it.
"Hang in there, Little Bit…" Samera noted, coming alongside Tommy, "We've still got your back…"
"Damn straight, kid." Giving a nod, Atticus gestured towards the door, "You two better follow me… Ain't far."
Heading out the way he'd come in, Atticus led the duo down a long, narrow hall, lined with doors. At the end of the hall was a sliding door, and pressing the keypad beside it, he waited for it to open, before passing through. Down another hall, he paused outside of a metal door, marked with a nine. Tapping another keypad, he waited for a click, before tugging at the handle. Inside the stark white room was a solitary cot, a metal chain, bolted down and a stainless steel toilet.
Turning to Lucas, he nodded him inside.
Francis didn't expect the kid to return the look. To even acknowledge it. At least she'd done something, at least tried to look him in the eyes and show him that she wasn't just an angry ball of rage. Which, honestly, she forgot sometimes too.
Little Bit. The nickname almost made her scoff. These people were clinging to the only shred of goodness in the room and using it to justify their cause. They were going to corrupt him too.
She followed the man to their inevitable confinement, heart threatening to pound out of her chest. They were going to take Lucas away from her. They were going to take Lucas away from her. Her heart pounded and pounded until she thought it might croak. She considered knocking Atticus to the ground, kicking him in some unsavory place, running past the kid, grabbing Lucas and just running and running…
But there was nowhere to run too. Watching with dulled and tired eyes as Lucas was nodded into the blank white cell, Francis grabbed his shirt and kissed him on the lips, quickly, before letting him go. She didn't have any words. Hopefully it was enough.
If Lucas was drained of an ounce more, then he'd be stepping foot into his own grave by now. Absolutely nothing about this right. It was wrong. So wrong. And the helpless feeling that came with it ate away at the foundations of his mind like acid. He hadn't experienced a defeat this deep since perching herself on that man's lap like an obedient dog. The only difference was that he had the motivation--no, a reason to swim through the abyss. Handicapped or not.
He followed Anus, only allowing a fraction of reality to seep through as a fuzziness seeped into him. Past his skin. The corners of his vision. His bones. Each and every joint aching with this illogical phantom pain. Was it because of overexertion? No… That couldn't have been it. He had a dizzy spell not too long ago, but it was a freak occurrence at best. His stamina should've been so much better than this and his will power even more so.
But he figured his body was just chock full of disappointments today.
Arriving at the cells, Lucas was about to face Fran; perhaps give her a few words of encouragement, of strength, for both of them. However, whatever her had to say evaporated into oblivion and he returned the kiss for as long as it lasted, though that wasn't long at all. He didn't want to do this. This was bullshit. Hands curling into fists at his sides, he forced himself to step away from her. "We're gonna be okay," he said, "I promise."
Slicing through Anus with a glare, Lucas eyed the cell… then slowly stepped inside.
Watching the pair, Atticus bit the lining of his cheek, and as Lucas stepped in, he shook his head before gesturing to Francis, then to the open door, "Go on…"
Francis clung desperately to Lucas' words, committing them to memory. Holding them close to her heart. They were going to be okay. He promised. Lucas kept his promises… They'd made so many to each other and so far, nothing had been broken. She would keep hers. They would be okay.
And still, watching him leave, feeling him pull away, was the most terrified she had felt in a long time. Finally, at the end of this crazy day, they were going to be separated. But then…
Eyes wet, Francis looked up at Atticus, surprise filling her features. She opened her mouth, maybe to say something grateful, though her eyes showed it enough and she decided instead to run into Lucas' arms while she had the chance. Her arms looped underneath his and she clung tightly, back to the door that was about to be closed on them. Her chest shook with silent sobs, trying to hold it just long enough for them to leave them once and for all.
Colin slept miraculously well in Emmeline's apartment, the comforting embrace of his beloved awakening him from a dreamless slumber. Her thumb skimmed gently along his lips, the fading touch upon his skin sending shivers down his spine. A kiss greeted his forehead, short and sweet. "One day I'll be able to feel you against me again" A soft chuckle emitted from the mirage before she vanished altogether, leaving Colin reaching feebly into the empty space ahead. He swallowed, retracting his hand as he brushed stray hair behind his ears.
"D-damn it." He grumbled under his breath, forcing himself up from the couch. He rubbed his temple, eyes flickering from his resting space to the hall, his eyes blurring temporarily. His father, he figured, would be up by this point and it was now or never to make that call. According to his own hypothesis, he figured that Roz was going to freak out as well, but he didn't want to bring him into it just yet. He figured that those men were only after him and his 'sister' so it was safer to leave him out of it. Fumbling briefly to his feet, he stretched his arms over his head and gave out a lumbering yawn. Eyes fluttering, he prayed that Emmeline could be up soon so he could find her phone to make the call. Colin usually didn't have his own on him, especially not in the actual morgue.
His eyes remained glued to the door, after a moment of silence, he chuckled. "Not today, I suppose. Not today."
"What about today?" Emmeline's voice came from the kitchenette, where she'd already been up and about, making a small pot of coffee. The warm aroma of the brew filled the apartment, and as she opened the pantry to pull out a few boxes of odds and ends… granola bars, cereal, poptarts, she glanced Colin's way, "Morning, by the way."
Colin stiffened as he heard Emmeline's voice, dropping his arms to his side and cursing himself for talking to himself without an excuse for doing so. No weird spectors to speak of. He cleared his throat, making his way to the kitchenette. He rested his palm along the counter as he supported himself, eyes drooping. "Good morning. I was just...Grateful that there were no madmen at the door. Three is too much for my lifetime, to be fairly honest."
Chuckling faintly, Emmeline gestured vaguely to where Gabe was still half-propped by the wall, giving a small shrug, "...No living ones, anyway. We should be pretty safe here, I think. No way they'd know who I was, given we just met. You hungry? I can… uh… open a package for you?"
"And I think Gabe at least likes me, so I've got that going for me." Colin smirked, rubbing the back of his head with a raised brow. "I think they mentioned something about finding me wherever I was. I don't know how that's possible, but they got me at the morgue. You sure you are okay with another dead man walking in your home?" Colin's eyes skimmed over the packages in her hand with a greedy lust known only to late night workers who haven't devoured a poptart in the last two hours. "Yes, please."
Biting her lip, she shrugged again, "He likes your watch, anyway." With a small, teasing laugh, she opened the package and pulling out a silver foil wrapping, handed it over to him, "Toaster's over there if you're one of those freaks who likes to heat them up." Leaning on the counter, the smile faded a little, and she shook her head, "...You shouldn't say that. That's why we brought Gabe. To make sure you don't end up dead… So… so let's just stick with that plan, alright?"
"Good enough." Colin responded with a weak grin, taking the package happily before locking eyes with her and making his way to the toaster. "Super freak, I guess." Colin hummed as he ripped the foil off and proceeded to place both tarts inside. He ran his hand across his eyes, once again tempted to yawn. "Right. Right. I'm not gonna end up dead, I'm just worried that you are going to end up in the crossfire…" He bit his lip "By the way, do you have a phone around here?"
"Ugh. Gross." Shaking her head in disapproval, she opened her open package, and pulling herself onto the counter, opened it, pulling out one of the pastries. When he continued, she nodded faintly, "Life doesn't change because you worry, Colin. What's gonna happen is gonna happen. All I can do is my best… and if I go down helping someone out, well… that's not so bad, right?"
Smiling, she gestured to her purse, laying half-thrown on the kitchen table, "Front pocket. Knock yourself out."
"Some called me uncultured, but usually its for other reasons." He smirked, watching the tarts pop out of the toaster. He fumbled for a plate before splaying them out, retracting his fingers as it threatened to burn his fingers. The irony. The poptarts hurt more than actual fire. Sheepish abou tthat thought, he turned to Emmeline and shrugged. "I would prefer not having someone's life destroyed because of me, but...I really appreciate the help. I really do." Colin placed the plate down on the counter before kneeling, swiftly plucking the phone from the front pocket. He stared down at it hesitantly, biting his lip. "Wish me luck, Emmeline." He began to dial the number into the phone, his thumb shaking as it hovered over the call button.
"It wasn't much of a life, anyway…" She said with a small shrug. There was no bitterness. It was a statement, pure and simple… and sad, "Anyway. I'm sure we'll be alright. Not like they've got magic or anything." Nodding as he grabbed the phone, she broke the poptart in half, taking a bite, "God speed, Col…"
"Don't jinx us, dear." Colin muttered as he learned over to rapp his knuckles against the wooden counter. "I owe you." He vowed, pressing the phone up to his ear as he waited for the gentle beep to dissapate. How long had it been since he called? Not too long ago, he was busy at the morgue for the most part but...Colin wanted to check up every once in a while. It was his father, as much as he struggled with his return into his life. He didn't expect his father to answer his questions, so he didn't bother to ask. Bobbing his head, he exhaled lowly. "Alright dad, time to tell me about the sister, the gunmen, and maybe even some other backdrop information that I should know? Sound good?" He grumbled, unsure of whether or not his father had picked up.
Click
"...What's this about gunmen?" The voice on the other end answered - a similar tone to Colin's if not older, and weary… very weary sounding, "Colin? That you…? I didn't recognize the number, son."
Colin blinked as his father picked up, his tone concerning. Colin scrambled briefly with the phone in his hand, clearing his throat as he tried to organize his thoughts. "H-hey dad. Um, are you alright? You sound a bit peaked…" Brushing his hand through his hair, he realized he was attempting to stall. It didn't help that the words threatened to catch in his throat. "Listen...pops, um, Im in a little bit of a fix, right now. I'm with a friend right now but I had trouble at the morgue earlier today. And, er, I have some questions…"
"I'm fine, Colin. Just... had a late night." There was a pause, and as Colin continued, a small sigh, "Trouble? What sort of trouble?"
"Did you by chance have gunmen at your door too?" Colin questioned, rubbing his brow in irritation. He exhaled slowly, biting his lip hard. "I had a few people come into the morgue. Told me they were after me and my sister. But here's the problem, dad...When in hell did I have a sister?"
"That's the second time you mentioned gunmen, Colin. I'm starting to get concerned…" Another pause, longer this time, and Nathan Turner's tone shifted, something more urgent behind it, "...Colin. Where are you? Where are you, right now?"
"That's because there were actual men with guns at my doorstep, dad." He grumbled, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. "I'm at this woman's apartment, her name is Emmeline. She..she's letting me stay for a little bit. Dad, do you know what the hell is going on?"
Swearing, something clattered on the other line, a door slamming shut, "The address, Colin. Text it to me! I'm on my way. I can explain, but… but not over the phone!"
Colin's heart sank in his chest at the clatter, realizing something was horrifically wrong. They had been hunting the right person and his father knew fully well what was happening. Colin, expression dull and stone cold, lowered the phone from his ear and hung up. "E-em, c-can you remind me this address?"
Looking up, Emmeline nodded, spounting it off as she slipped off the counters.
"I'm hanging up, Colin! Text it! I'll be there as soon as I can. And for God's sake… do NOT leave!"
"Jesus Christ, alright alright!" Colin exclaimed and stared down at the device with shaking hands, swallowing the hard lump growing in his throat. With his thumbs trembling, he managed to open up a new contact for his father. He texted the address, placing the device onto the counter after he hit sent. "Oh, God. He...he knows. Whatever is happening, he knows"
Frowning softly, Emmeline moved to Colin's side, "...You're gonna be alright. If he knows, maybe he can sort it out. And in the meantime, you're safe here… We've got Gabe, right? It's gonna be okay, Colin."
"I...I don't even know how I got dragged into this. I haven't done anything. I don't even know my own sister, my father doesn't seem like he's the most innocent party in this. I...I'm just very confused. And to be honest, I'm horrified." Biting his lip, he turned his attention to Emmeline. "I don't understand any of this, and I'm sorry."
Reaching out, hesitantly, Emmeline let her hand fall to his arm, "...You don't have to apologize. I… I can't really imagine what you're feeling right now, but I can guess it's probably pretty intense. It'll get sorted. I'm sure…" But she wasn't. Not in the least bit. "Come on… Let's just sit down, yeah? You should eat. Try not to… to think."
"I...I feel nauseous." He muttered, tempted to go exactly as his father and his instincts told him. Go outside. Get some fresh air. Clear his head. Hell, maybe even go back to the morgue. Hide on the slab. He swallowed. "I'm going to try and sit and wait but...oh God."
"Mon cher." Another apparition cooed behind Colin, it's wrinkly fingers hovering over his shoulder. "Do not fret. This is one of the less painful ways to go…" Dismissing the voice, Colin rolled his shoulders back and shook his head.
"I just hope he doesn't die on his way here…"
Frowning softly, Emmeline gestured him to the couch, and sitting down, folded her hands in her lap, uneasiness building in her stomach at his words.
It was a long, tense while, silence enveloping the apartment. Finally, however, nearly an hour and a half after Colin hung up, there was a knock at the door, "Colin… It's dad…"
Colin couldn't seem to think straight as he plopped onto the couch beside Emmeline, hearing the constant mutter of his three specters. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him until he heard a knock, and without a word he forced himself to his feet and opened the door to greet his father. "What the hell is going on?"
Nate Turner pinched his brow as the door opened, gesturing to the doorway with a small frown, "...Can I…? I'd rather not do this on some strange woman's front step."
"You may." Colin muttered, gaze turning back to Emmeline who remained on the couch. He was relieved Gabe seemed to be out of view. "Look, wherever is fine, just please explain to me why there are people trying to fucking kill me."
Grimacing, Nate stepped inside, giving Emmeline a brief nod, before he stepped away from the door to let Colin close it, "Miss. Sorry to intrude…" His eyes shifted to Colin, and he shook his head, "I was gonna tell you about it, Colin. When… when I came back. It just… I could never find the right time. It's complicated, and I'm afraid some of it isn't gonna make sense. Before I met your mother, I know you know that I was… I had something of a wandering eye. I swear to you, it stopped when I married her, but before then, I don't pretend that I was half decent. I… I found out a few years ago that one of the women I was with had a child. A girl. That… that she was mine. But she'd gone missing, and that's why I left. To try and find her."
Swallowing, he ran his fingers through his hair, "I did find her, Colin. She was seventeen… working in a nightclub in Hell's Kitchen. I will spare you the details of what her employer had done her doing, but you can imagine I wasn't inclined to leave her there. Problem was, she didn't know who I was, and I couldn't get close enough to her to tell her, without getting her into trouble. So… I cleaned out one of our savings accounts, and I paid for her. Spent the next six weeks trying to find a way to get her out… Trouble was, I'd drawn attention to myself. The night club was raided, and in getting her out, I was injured. I probably wouldn't have made it, but RIEF found me, and they nursed me back from the brink. Turns out, they weren't just killing mutants anymore, Colin. They were experimenting on them. I was thrown in a cell, and I was kept there for… for years. Then fours years ago, shortly before I… before I came back, a woman pulled me from captivity, at nd used me to lure my daughter to her. We were rescued by members of Rogue." Rubbing his hands together, he looked up at his son, "...Her name is Temperance. P...Penny. She's a member, or was, a member of Rogue. And if someone is after you because of her, then this doesn't bode well for anyone, Colin."
Colin wanted to laugh. He wanted to beat his knuckles against his chest, let out a laugh and clap his father on the back for telling him such a story. He didn't abandon him or his mother for another woman, he didn't end up running away because he was tired of the domestic life. Oh no, he just had to have been abducted. Colin just had to have let hatred fester over the years for something that hadn't even happened. Clasping his hand over his forehead, Colin stared down at his shoes and breathed heavily. His brow furrowed into a thoughtful scowl, his head throbbing as a familiar voice taunted him
"Daddy issues for nothing, Col ~
"You can't be serious, pops. You can't tell me someone is trying to kill me, all because the sister I didn't even realize I had was connected to Rogue. What the hell did people do to warrant that?" All Colin wanted to do was devote his life to a science that he admired and distance himself from everything else. No. Oh no. Now he had a half sister he had never been informed about, a conspiracy theory revolving Rogue and RIEF...Not to mention that his father fully expected that something like this could even happen. "Look...There...There has to be some way to get out of this mess. They said they'd be able to find me and my...my sister and kill us."
"I wouldn't worry too much about Penny. She's tough as hell, and she's got a bear of a husband who can protect her. But the fact that they're coming after you? That's a bigger problem. It doesn't make sense, unless… Unless they're just trying to wipe out any possible connections to Rogue." Rubbing the back of his neck, he shook his head, "What do you mean they said they'd find you? Like… they're tracking you, somehow? Who did you get this information from?"
"The dead man." Emmeline interjected, with a smile that should not have been possible, given her words, "He told us what we needed to know, when I brought him back…"
Looking to Colin, Nate's eyes widened slightly, "The… dead man?"
"I wish you could have been a bear of a husband…" Roxanne's hands fluttered above his stomach, threatening to skim downwards.
"N-not now love." Colin tensed firmly. Her laugh greeted him softly, her hands tracing down to his back, inching down...Colin winced. "Roxanne." He grumbled, realizing now that his father and Emmeline could most likely hear him.
"I shouldn't let this go into Ghostbuster territory, should I?" Roxanne nibbled at his shoulder, knowing full well that Colin would react spastically. Reaching behind him, he tried to swat her away.
"L-look pops...we...we ended up killing the assailants. Er, well, not me specifically. Emmeline can uh...raise the dead. We got the information we needed." He swallowed, hoping he didn't have to go further into how they met. Roxanne's fingers travelled to his thighs, Colin screwed his eyes shut. "H-honey not now…"
A brow rose higher, and Nate looked behind him, to the girl on the couch, lowering his voice just slightly, "...This a new girl, son? You… you finally moving on?" But as Colin continue, he swore faintly, shaking his head, "She… can… raise… the dead? And… hang on. Did you just call her Roxanne? I thought her name was Emmeline?"
"N-no…" Colin stammered, his nails digging into the specters wrist as her nails crawled up his back.
"Oh, am I embarrassing you love?" Roxanne giggled, kissing at his neck. Colin tried to roll the spirit off his shoulders.
"L-look. Look. Emmeline is a friend. And yes, yes she can. Makes sense for us meeting at a morgue, huh?" He grinned sheepishly before staring down at his shoes. "L-look. Um, I may or may not have lied about my…" Colin was cut off by Roxanne dragging her hands along his chest, skimming them down to his stomach.
"Oh, honey, a little late to tell him about that, isn't it?"
"I'm not pyrokinetic. I mean, I am. But that's part of it." Colin swallowed, trying to find his words. "I'm something of a DNA preservation tool kit. Er, to put it mildly. I can save people's DNA after they die and um...remember Roxanne Denver?"
Nate's expression shifted to one of pure confusion, as he listened to his son, "Back up. Are… are you trying to tell me… you've stored… Your dead ex fiance in your brain??"
Sitting back, Emmeline's expression shifted as well, matching Nate's, "...I'm a friend?"
"And in your pa-" Colin tried desperately to cut her off and he grimaced. God, as much as he loved her, there were times he questioned the words that she chose to say to him.
"It was sort of an accident. She was how I found out I had powers...the pyrokinesis came later." He swallowed, rubbing the back of his head "It also explains the hair...and the eye color...and the tattoos…" he mumbled mostly to himself, surprised to hear Emmeline pope up at the last second. "Yes?"
Swearing, Nate shook his head, "I thought it was a phase… Hell, Colin. That… that's not exactly healthy, you know? How you gonna move on if you got that… girl in your head?"
Sitting up straighter, Emmeline blinked, "...O...oh. I… Thanks." Looking down at her hands, she frowned softly. It had been an awfully long time since she'd had one of those.
"I-it was never a phase." He swallowed, red in his cheeks. He heard a gentle sigh in his ear, and before he knew it; without much control, he claimed "Go ahead and call her a bitch, dad, I know what's what you are thinking." Pressing his knuckles to his lips; he realized he could hear Roxanne giggle. He gulped, emotion scorching in his throat. "Not planning on moving on right now, I think the more important topic at hand is that you ended up somehow pulling us into this mess. Either that or my sister did".
"I… never… That's not what I…" Rubbing his forehead, he sighed, "She's dead, Colin. She didn't move to Africa. Hell, you can't just keep her locked up in your head like that. The… the ramifications… mentally." Both of his children, it seemed, had some serious issues letting go…
"You're right. It… it doesn't matter who's responsible. What matters is, we need to figure out how to deal with this… And to start, you need to get out of this city, before they start coming after you again."
"As right as your old man is...he says it as if I am your captive ~. That's not true but I know how hesitant this is for you. Just know...just know I don't mind being here…" Her fingers slithered underneath his shirt. "Right here" Colin swallowed, deciding to dismiss the conversation then and there.
"Where the hell am I supposed to go?" Colin's demeanor hardened. "Unless you can set me up with even another sibling I might not know about, I have no where I can really go." He thought about Roz again and bit his lip.
Nate's frown deepened, "I don't know, Colin, but if these people found you at work, it won't be long before they find you here…"
"...Oh!" Emmeline spoke up, looking up from her hands again, "They won't find him here! We just met last night… erhm… this morning, when I broke into the mor--"
"Emmeline shush." Colin muttered, eyes flickering over. "Look, I don't know how I even have here Em. I know it's been a night since I've been threatened, but I can't predict when they will come again. We need to figure out where to go next…"
Blinking, Emmeline shifted slightly, "Oh. Um. Right… Sorry. I just meant that they don't know you're here."
"...You're… staying with a woman you just met? Colin. Do you really think, all things considered that's the wisest decision?"
"It's okay. I'm sorry." He claimed to Emmeline with a small frown, realizing his stress was starting to nip at his skull. He took a moment to consider his next statement to his father, massaging his temple. "Look, I don't know where else I can go. And she did save my life. Unless there is a safe house somewhere where they can't track me down…"…
A sigh escaped, and Nate nodded, "...Alright. Fair is fair. Just… make sure you respect that young woman's reputation, yes?" It was difficult, Nate realized, to let go of being a father… even when they'd grown.
"He's been a perfect gentleman." Emmeline said, with a grin, "Besides… I have a boyfriend. Hm. Sort of."
"What do you think I'm going to do?" Colin asked with a blink. "Taint her soul with voodoo or some crap?" Chuckling under his breath, Colin found that his shoulders relaxed(despite Roxanne nuzzling into them). "Yeah...that she does. Look, you have nothing to worry about. I'm safe here enough...now it's just a matter of making sure they don't come back."
"It's best you stay where I can find you, as is. I'll need to try and get in touch with Penny. There's a way, but it's only for emergencies, and I don't want to use it until I'm completely sure this is… as bad as it sounds. Three gunmen you said?" He asked, before confusion flickered over his gaze again, "Hang on. How do you… sort of have a boyfriend??"
"A way?" Colin asked with a baffled demeanor "How is this not an emergency? As I've said, three gunmen. And those weren't legal guns either, automatic. Military style." Eyes fluttering over to Emmeline, Colin felt his hands become clammy. "On and off again sort of thing from what I understand."
"Yes. Penny and her husband, they're in hiding, but before she left, she gave me a means of contacting her… And it's not that it's not an emergency, Colin. But if it's over with...if those gunmen were it, and I… I potentially break her cover." Pinching his forehead, he frowned, "...Military style? That…" That didn't bode well at all. Shaking his head, he was almost glad for the change in subject, "...On again, off again…"
"Mostly because he's dead." She mused plainly, "It… it's not as weird as it sounds. It's… he… hm. Okay. That's hard to explain."
"Well, then I suppose I see the potential trouble. But they said they were going to track both her and me down. If she's in trouble she should know about it." Colin suggested with a gentle frown, knowing how horrible this could possibly be. If it wasn't for Em he'd be dead, he can't imagine what his sister would possibly be up against. "Er, Yeah...lets just say both me and Em are clinging to lost beloveds."
"Damn it…" Fingers raking through his hair in frustration, he closed his eyes a moment, "They just can't leave well enough alone, can they. Every time I think she's safe…" His eyes flickered to Colin, to Emmeline, and he shook his head, "The both of you should stop worrying about the dead, and a start worrying about joining them. The gunmen… You said they were killed. What did you do with the bodies?"
"Ironically enough, that dead man was the one keeping me alive." Colin muttered, folding his arms along his chest. "Well, we were worried they had backup. We left them in the morgue. Arthur Roz has probably already found them by now…" Colin swallowed at the idea. That and him missing, he figured there were going to be more than several calls made out. "I couldn't exactly dispose of them, dad."
"Really, Colin?" Looking at him, Nate shook his head with a small frown, "You… were in a morgue, but you couldn't figure out what to do with the bodies? What did I raise here…" He nearly slapped his forehead, as he moved to the door, "I need to take a look at them. See if I can identify them…"
"Have you ever heard of a little thing called shock? You know, the natural response that a body undergoes after a traumatic experience? You really think I would have had the audacity or time to think 'God, I'll put the bodies into body bags and shove them away'" Colin rolled his eyes, blinking at the mention. "You really think you can recognize them?"
"I've been shot… twice, Colin. And held captive for… what… six years? And then abducted by a psychopathic young woman who could set your nerves on fire with eye contact. Literally. I've handled a little shock in my day. But you were… literally… Nevermind." Shaking his head, he sighed, "Nevermind. Just… Get me the address. If they're from RIEF, then I may be able to."
"Wow, your life really has been Days of Our Lives. What's next, mom has an evil twin?" Colin rubbed his brow, although he could feel sympathy well in his chest. He knew he needed to express his sorrow for the strain the two had, but at the same time bile built at his throat. Slowly managing a brief 'sorry' Colin gave him the address. "If worse comes to worse, I could always call Roz. I just really don't want to pull him into this mess."
"...Hell if I know. Her family's crazy enough without the Soap Opera stuff. You've met her cousin Cristina right?" Shaking his head, Nate rubbed his brow for the umpteenth time, "Keep your boss out of it as much as possible, Colin. These people don't seem concerned with collateral damage. Just… let me handle it, alright?" Reaching out, he gave Colin a pat on the arm, "Keep your head above water, Col, and you'll make it out of the deep end, remember? I'll call you in a few hours." Nodding to Emmeline, he turned to the door and slipped out.
"Cris? Mom used to tell me she was just an eccentric…" Colin managed a weak smile, nodding his agreement to his father's request. "Just don't get yourself hurt, pops. As much as I hate to admit it, I already lost you once. I don't want mom and I to have to again." Colin's hand rested over his father's before he watched him leave, a pit forming in his chest. He felt ill. This wasn't just some mistake. His father had been through hell, and now it was to reap itself upon him and the rest of his family.
After the door had closed, Emmeline rose and crossing the room, put her hand on his elbow, "You okay, Colin?"
Colin gently rolled his shoulder back, nudging her hand off of him. He rested his hand over his eyes and exhaled. "Surprisingly better than I thought I was going to be, Em."
Frowning, Em swallowed and nodded, dropping her hand back to her side, "Right. That… yeah. That was… So I guess we just… wait?"
"I can't really stand waiting much more while there's still a possibility that I'm gonna get killed." Colin mumbled, grimacing as he felt Roxanne squeeze his shoulder. He didn't move her off of him. "I...I wanna get out of here."
"Oh! O-oh. Okay." Eyes slightly wide, Emmeline nevertheless nodded, and without a word, moved to the coat rack by the door. Grabbing a sweatshirt, she pulled it on, and turned to Colin, "W-where do you wanna go?"
"W-wait, you want to…" Colin's brow pinched in confusion. "Okay. I know my father told us to stay here. I just can't seem to stay here...I want to see Roz but I know it's risky."
Blinking, Emmeline frowned, "Colin. Your dad didn't say it was risky. He said not to do it… period. You need some fresh air, that's fine. But… but going to see your boss is a bad idea."
"I should at least warn him that something bad is going on.." Colin muttered, although he understood completely what his father had meant. He swallowed, desperate for things to return to some variation of normal.
"What do you think he's gonna do if you go and tell him about all of this? You really think he's just gonna thank you for the heads up and leave it alone? You need to be really sure about this, Colin. I'm involved cause I was there… that's on me.? Gesturing to her arm he'd bandaged the night before, she frowned, "But something like this happens to your boss, that's on you."
"What if he's used up as leverage?" Colin's haze threatened to seep from his head and cloud over his eyes, his palm coming to rest at his temple. "If they are after my sister...er, fellow product of my father's frivolous activities...I'd assume they'd go after people we care about, right? You really think they'd leave him well enough alone? Fuck, Emmeline that's his morgue where we got shot at. If they think there's any chance that we'd return there, Im sure they won't hesitate to take him out as well."
"They have no reason to go after him, cause as far as they know he's your boss, right. Most people… they're not exactly sentimental about their employer. But if you go running in there to give him a heads up, they'll know for sure. And that's best case scenario. What if they're camping out there, waiting for you? You'd be walking into a trap." Frowning, Emmaline rubbed her arms, "Is… is there another way you could warn him?"
"Well if they don't know that he's not just a boss they won't be camping for him? But what if they've already gotten to him? Em they stormed his goddamn morgue…" Colin raked his hands through his hair, feeling a gentle touch encompassing his hand before vanishing from his form entirely. "I don't...I can give him a call, I guess? Christ, id just prefer we have an eye on each other. Not that he can't defend himself or anything, but…"
"Until you figure out what's going, maybe it's for the best you steer clear. I dunno… I've never been hunted before." Frowning, rubbing her arm, she looked up, "Maybe we should find your sister?"
"I have no idea who my sister is, I guess I should call my dad about that. You know. Again." Grumbling under his breath, he shook his head. "My priorities are going to be with the people I know right now. After that I'll look for my sister. Alright?"
"Just… just be careful, Colin. That may be exactly what they're hoping for. Leverage of some kind." Biting her lip, she shrugged again, "They were smart enough to find you, cause of your sister…"
"Well, Em what the hell do I do if hes already in danger or hurt? I can't just leave him behind." Christ. It was early morning and he was already wishing to hibernate for three generations. He huffed lightly. "Fine. We will fucking find my sister. But at the same time, I am going to try and see if I can get Roz back to us." Was this foolish? Perhaps. But right now he couldn't bear to think of leaving his...fatherly figure behind. His mother too…"shit, em. Shit."
Teeth pinching her cheek, Em hesitated, before reaching a hand out to his forearm, gingerly touching his wrist, "I'm sorry, Colin. I… I can't imagine what's going on in your head. Me? I don't have anyone. Besides Gabe, anyway… But they have no reason to go after your boss or your mom unless you give them a reason. I'm not gonna pretend I know what to do here… I just don't wanna see you get hurt."
He wanted to flinch away, but forced himself to be still as he tussled his hair away from his eyes. He chuckled bitterly. "I don't know what to do, either, Em. I'm fucking horrified. I'm...im...really scared."
"Me, too. But we're gonna get through this. I'll do whatever I can. I mean… not that I'm exactly useful, but…" Rubbing the back of her neck, Em looked away, "I'm really not, am I…"
"I didn't say that Em. Right now it's just really hard trying to figure out where to go from here. If I go to try and help Roz he might get hurt, but if I don't he might too...it feels like a sticky situation."
"...So… send me." Blinking, Emmaline smiled faintly, "They don't know who I am, right? I can go and tell him whatever you need to tell him , and you can stay here, where you're safe."
"You'd...you'd be willing to do that?" Colin asked her, gratefulness flooding his eyes as he bobbed his head. "You won't be getting into trouble, will you? I don't want you or uh, Gabe to get hurt."
"I'll be okay…" She answered, with a pleasant enough smile, "Besides… nobody to miss me, if anything goes wrong. You? You got lots of people who… well, anyway. I'll be fine. Maybe just give me something to say so he'll know you sent me?"
"Don't...please don't say that Em. Good Christ please don't say that." Colin flinched visibly, huffing as his cheeks puffed out. "Um...you can take my watch I guess. He'll know it's mine. Is Gabe going to be enough to protect you?"
"It's true, Colin. It's okay, though. Better it's someone like me. But uh… Gabe can't… if I… if I bring him back, it might be the last time. Kinda wanna hold off. Just in case, you know? But I think I'll be alright on my own."
"Just...stop talking that way alright or I'll make sure I'm the one that's going." Colin tiredly rubbed his hands against his face. "If...you are sure. Pretty sure you can get a kitchen knife from here…"
"Sorry. Force of habit." Giving a shrug, Em smiled, before laughing softly, "I uh… I'm not gonna stab anyone, Col. Don't even like needles, remember? Just… just promise you'll stay here and safe, and I'll be fine."
"You shouldn't have snuck into a morgue then." He teased lightly, biting the inside of his cheek. "I'll stay here. Promise. If anything goes wrong...we should have a quick precaution."
"If I'm not back within like… Three hours, you need to just go, Colin. Find your sister and get safe. Okay? D...don't try to find me."
"Three hours." He muttered, shaking his head. "Alright. That's...that's fair. Okay. Be back in two if you can"
Smiling, Emmaline nodded, "I'll do my best. But… but just in case…" Biting her lip, she hesitated a moment, before throwing her arms around his shoulders, in a tight, brief hug, before she brushed swiftly past him and out the door.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
COUNTER PRODUCTIVITYA collab between @CloudyBlueDay and ElleThe dogs had to stay in the truck. No matter how desperately Zoey had hoped, there was simply no changing that. The motel did not offer pet friendly rooms, and Penny insisted it would draw too much attention to try and fight those particular rules. They needed to lay low. Stay under the radar… blend in. So Everest stayed, and Zoey stared up at the popcorn ceiling, her mind a revolving door or knowledge and information and irrational fears and rational fears…
Gunshots resonated in her memories, blooming bursts of blood like rorschach tests… Finn, bleeding. He saved them, but logic dictated this was a counter productive gesture. They were smaller, weaker. They weren't useful in a fight. They might've been if they'd continued their training, but they had been rescued before all that. Finn taking a bullet for them went against every rational response.
The clock on the nightstand clicked over to three AM and Zoey rolled over, her feet touching the soft, hideously patterned carpet. Beside her, Penny's breathing remained soft and light, and as Zoey rose, she tiptoed to the door as quietly as possible. Out on the balcony, she approached Finn and Rose's room and raised a hand, cautiously…. apprehensively.
Grimacing, she lowered her hand. They were sleeping… Normal people slept at three in the morning.
Even though Rose's quiet breaths were a soothing melody beside him, Finn was still awake. It was a little hard to sleep soundly after years at flinching at every breath, every sound, especially after becoming keenly aware of the way the wind moved when someone interrupted it. He had slept, though. And it was enough to make him feel rested, to allow him to gaze upon Rose's peaceful face and brush away the little locks of hair that blocked his view.
Until he swore he heard something outside. Perhaps a little too quiet to be a threat, but Finn still cautiously crept out of bed and cracked the door open. Nobody th- oh. He looked down. And there was indeed someone.
"Hi, Zo." Finn said softly, smiling at her. "Little late for you, isn't it?"
A word escaped Zoey that she knew she wasn't supposed to say, though it escaped her extremely logical mind why some words were considered 'inappropriate' while others weren't. The random order of letters into phonetic sound should not have been distinct enough that uttering them warranted a smack in the back of the head…
But somehow she had doubts that Finn would rat her out, and rubbing her arms, she stepped back, cheeks slightly red, "I… uh. I cannot sleep well. Without Everest. My mind… it will not stay quiet, and I cannot stop thinking. May I ask you something?"
Finn blinked as he registered the blurt from Zoey's mouth before a laugh fell out of him, one he had to cut short to make sure Rose didn't wake up. Scooting outside and closing the door very slowly behind him, he adopted a more sympathetic look and nodded with a furrowed brow.
"I'd have trouble sleeping without a fluffy pillow like that too," He said softly, even though he knew the dog was more than just that to the young girl. Just like he wouldn't be able to sleep without Rose. "'Course. My mind's never quiet either, you know. Not a thing that only super smart people got going for 'em. Want to sit with me over here?" He gestured to a couple chairs on the balcony."
Nodding weakly, Zoey moved to sink into one of the chairs, pulling her knees closer to her chest, chin resting on them, and for a moment, just a moment, she appeared to be a normal nine year old girl… and maybe for a moment, she felt like just that. But she wasn't normal. She'd never be…
"...Wh-what you said… back at the cabin. When we were playing Uno. Did you mean it? About… about how I should always use my full abilities? How I should not be afraid to be so smart?"
Finn studied Zoey a moment, brow lifting. He was surprised to find that his statement had made such an impact on her. Usually most of the crap he said flew in one ear and out the other. "Of.. of course, Zoey. Definitely." He leaned forward in the chair he'd collapsed in opposite her. "Powers… always seem like a burden at first. And I'm not saying they aren't. But they're… you. You can't be afraid to be you, you know?"
"I hate it." The words were blunt, and uncommonly emotional for a girl who was so normally devoid of those sorts of feelings. Her fingers twisted, tightening into the fabric of her pajama bottoms, her jaw tensing, and there, barely perceptible, a quiver in her lower lip, "I hate it so much, sometimes, I think it would be better if I had died back in that horrible nursery." Looking up swiftly, she shook her head, "Please… please do not tell anyone I said that. I… I do not mean it. Not really, but I… Hm. Sentiment… it does not make sense to me sometimes, but then there are other times when it is so clear, and I… I feel wrong. Like… like a malfunction. And I hate it."
Finn's eyes widened. The sudden wave of emotion that fell out of Zoey shocked him, right to his core. Days ago he had felt exactly like this. Known that exact pain that felt like a knife in the heart. But from a girl so small… it was shocking. Was he equipped to handle this? Someone who had barely pulled himself out of the gutter not that long ago?
"Woah." Finn said softly. "Slow… s-slow down there, punk. You… wow… I… I know what you mean, Zoey." He looked at her, gaze clear and filled with concern, perhaps a tinge of hurt. "I won't tell anyone. I promise. Sentiment… is a funny thing. I know what you mean there too." Finn folded his hands together, sucking in a breath. "Why… why do you hate it so much? Why do you feel like that?"
"P-punk?" Blinking, Zoey's head tipped, "I am… not sure I understand the reference to loud, fast-moving and aggressive rock music from the 1980s… Is this a… figure of speech again?" Sitting up, she waved a hand, "No… no, nevermind. It does not matter. I hate that I will never be normal. That… that my whole life I am always going to be smarter than everyone I meet. That… that I cannot laugh at things that make Travis laugh, or cry when I am sad because I… because I know that emotion is just a natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others.... That I know that, and no one else thinks like that. I am nine years old, Finn, and I… I don't know how to be nine."
"Punk means you're a cute troublemaker. Somethin' like that. It's affectionate. I promise." Finn retorted, and grabbing the arms of his chair, scooted it forward until his was beside Zoey's. "Being nine is stupid anyway. Zoey, listen to me. I know all that too, alright? I know that emotion is just a natural instinctive whatever. I don't need to be a genius to know that. And I still feel things. And here's the big kicker. So do you." He nudged her gently with a closed fist, mimicking a very weak punch.
"This… right here.... Is very nine years old-ish of you. Feelin' outta place. Nine year olds do that. And ten year olds and eleven year olds and twelve year olds and even very stupid twenty four year olds. Eh, so you feel it a little differently, so what? Everyone feels things a little differently. It's only a curse if you look at it like that. Laugh at whatever you want to laugh at. Be sad over whatever you want to be sad at. The only thing that makes you different is that… you just know a little better why you're feeling that way." He sat hunched and low, to make sure he stayed at eye level with her. "You're exactly as you're supposed to be. Nothing wrong with that."
"I get why Penny likes you." She mused faintly, tucking her hair back behind her ears with a small smile, "...You are a lot like her. You… you say things how you feel them, instead of how… how adults think they should say things. Deckard is like that, too. And Rose, sometimes. She is just… she is really nice about it." Biting the inside of her cheek, she shrugged, "But that is the thing… I fail to understand it. Feelings. It seems silly to me, to waste time on something so trivial… on something with so little value. What do emotions accomplish? What is the logical significance?"
Finn blushed, shaking his head as color swept through his cheeks. "Penny didn't like me so much at first. She'll deny it. And Rose… has always been too nice." He teased, chuckling softly. "The logical significance… Jeez, Zoey. You're looking at it. This conversation right here is pretty emotional, don't you think? Makes me closer to you. How can that be of little value? How can your relationship with Travis, Penny, Deck, Rose… any of us, be of little value?"
"...Because relationships… and emotional connections to other beings make you weak." She frowned, sitting up a little straighter, "I cannot sleep because I am emotionally connected to Everest. Rose does not sleep because she misses you… Uh…" Clearing her throat, she shrugged, "...Travis sometimes reads things he should not. He tells me… Sorry. If…… if that is something I should not know…"
"No… no, no. You got it wrong, punk. Makes you stronger." He said, with an air of certainty. Even though her little pieces of evidence hit him in the gut, he was determined to make Zoey see the truth. "It's give and take. Nothing can be all good. But I know… that it makes you stronger. Without connection… without your family, your friends… you're nothing." Finn shot her a lopsided smile. "People gotta have space… somethin' Travis is figuring out.. And sometimes people make mistakes. But if you've got people who love you right… you can always find your way. Just like I found mine. Imagine if you didn't have Travis by your side… imagine if he didn't connect with you in that way that only you two got. Same for Everest. You might be apart right now, and that might hurt… but in the end, it's only gonna make you stronger. Because you'd do anything for them, and that means a lot. Love trumps everything, Zoey. Everything."
"...I… I am afraid I hold him back, Finn." She answered, voice small and soft, "...Travis. He… he cannot read my mind, and it makes him feel safe. But I… I think he has gotten too used to it, and he is not learning to control what he can do, without… without me around. Anchors can… they can be good. Sturdy. They keep a ship from drifting. But sometimes anchors can hold a ship down when they should not." Looking over at him, she frowned, "I do not understand it. Love. I… I cannot understand the function. I know about the physical aspects of it, I suppose… and to a degree, I can comprehend the emotional pertinence… But I do not understand its purpose. How does love… trump everything, when it is just a feeling based on circumstances and the chemical releases of dopamine, norepinephrine and phenylethylamine?"
Finn bit his lip, resting his chin in his hands as he thought a little longer. "That might be true. But it's not right to just throw the ship out to sea when it's not ready yet. Travis is young… and maybe not quite as smart as you. He'll figure it out… but he needs you too."
He sighed softly, the release of air tinged with a smile. "I don't know if you can comprehend it right now. Even if you're the smartest brain in the world… you are still nine. But if not now… you'll figure it out. But… don't you think… that you love Travis? Penny? Deck?"
"Oh, he is definitely not as smart as me. No one is… it is scientifically imposs--you were being funny." Biting her lip, she managed a weary smile and a tight, awkward laugh that sounded just slightly forced (and probably was), "Good one." As he continued, she shifted, listening, perhaps, a little more eagerly, before a frown crossed her lips in slightly confusion, "I suppose I feel… an emotional connection to them. Feelings of… affection. I was concerned that they would be hurt, when that terrible woman and those men attacked us… and I am glad that they are safe, now. But I do not know what this could possibly profit me, intellectually speaking. Unless… are you suggesting not all gain is intellectually based?"
"That's definitely what I'm suggesting." Finn said, nodding. He meant that a little more spiritually, but yeah, she summed it up pretty well. "This emotional connection you feel. Does it make you happy? Are you happy when you're with them?"
"Happy? I am… satisfied? I am grateful for their guidance and support… but happiness is an illusionary sensation brought about by serotonin and endorphin release. Is… is this important to normal people?"
Finn waved a hand. "No, Zoey… hold on. Close your eyes, okay? Close your eyes and I'm gonna ask you again." He waited, gnawing his lip. "Close your eyes, and this time, when I ask you, let your heart answer. Not literally. Your heart can't answer. But don't let your brain push out the words." Finn sucked in a breath. "Does your family… make you happy? When they're laughing at dinner or smacking you for saying bad words. How does that make your heart feel? Your soul. And don't… don't think about all the metaphysics and the religions and whatever. What do you… feel?"
Blinking, Zoey hesitated a moment, before squeezing her eyes shut. She knew that it was completely illogical and an utterly worthless endeavor to try and shut off her mind, but she tried… She tried as hard as she dared, until her hands quaked and her cheeks were dampened by tears, and heaving in a breath, she nodded, "They are my whole world, Finn…"
"Yeah." Finn said, nodding. He scooted forward and reached towards her, swiping his thumb across her cheek to clear away the tears, before opening his arms to her. "Mine too."
"Would…" Opening her eyes, she looked at him, frowning softly, voice a shaky whisper, "Would you do anything, Finn, if it was best for them? Absolutely anything?"
Finn closed his eyes, wrapping an arm around her small frame as he inhaled deeply. "Yeah. I would."
"Me, too." Laying her head on his shoulder, she sniffed softly, "Do you think they will be okay? Will… will they be safe?"
"With our kind of life… Zo, I can't ever promise that. None of us can. But we've got now, and we'll have tomorrow too. Hopefully, a lot more than that. But it only means you have to love them harder."
"Thank you, Finn…" Shifting up, she nodded, her smile slightly different… relaxed, "You have lent me some… interesting perspective. You should be there when Rose wakes. She normally dreams of… bad things."
"U-uh… yeah. I.. I always got interesting perspective to lend. Anytime." He smiled at her, though the smile twitched dangerously at her next words. "I… I know she does. You're sure you'll be alright? Don't wanna stay and snuggle?"
Nose wrinkling, Zoey shook her head, "You are not as skinny as you were… But you are not like Everest. I will be fine." Rising from her seat, she smiled wearily, "Goodnight. Finn."
"Hey," Finn said with another laugh, standing up with her. "You even remember how scrawny I was. Jeez. Smartass." He gently touched her shoulder. "..Night, Zo. I'm not goin' anywhere, okay? So if you ever need anything… I'm next door."
"Smartbrain. My backside is a normal, functioning intelligence…" With a slightly saucy grin, she backed away, after giving his hand a pat, "Thanks, Finn." As she started for her room, she paused, glancing back, "You know… you might not be as smart as me, Finn… but you are pretty wise…"
Finn snorted, rolling his eyes. He made a motion as if flicking a coin, and the wind tustled her hair just as he would have. "Yeah, yeah. Get outta here, punk. Your mom catches you up she'll kill us both."
"Penny will not kill me." She beamed, "You….hmm. Maybe." And before he could retort, she ducked into the motel room with a wave.
"Oi! She - she would n--" The door closed, and Finn huffed through a grin, shaking his head. "Twerp." He turned around and shuffled back to his own room.
Family Drama
Collab with @Elle Joyner
Interactions: Phaedra and Helona You are SO unfair!" The shout echoed loudly through the upper floor of the office building, a familiar voice, an emotional shriek, shaking with the tumultuous emotional overflow of a teenage girl, "I'm almost an adult! And I shouldn't have to ask you for permission to do things other kids were doing THREE years ago!"
A door slammed, and Phaedra Kane kicked it with all her might, growling something that wasn't particularly ladylike underneath her breath. Spinning, she crossed to the desk in the corner occupied by her father's secretary, and flopping into the seat across from the stern, severe woman, Phaedra crossed her arms over her chest, "...I hate him, SO much!"
Helona Locklear had long since turned down the setting of her hearing aids, so that she could work without cringing every time Phaedra's voice had been raised. She almost felt bad for Jeremiah Kane, during that particular argument. Almost. She supposed there were slightly more pressing things he could be yelled at about, but she'd take what she could get.
She flicked her eyes up at Phaedra as her door slammed and the girl flopped so gracefully into the chair across from her. She was silent for a little while, letting the other fume a little as she finished a sentence in her report. "Do you really?" she then asked, briefly glancing at the teenager before her eyes returned to her computer screen. It was the sort of thing that had worked with her own son, questioning him to make him state clearly what exactly he took issue with, so they could actually come to a solution. She hoped it was the thing that might work with Phaedra as well.
Eyes narrowing, Phaedra's frown deepened as the woman across from her broke the silence, "He's a giant, puritanical hypocrite! All the crap he shovels, it's a miracle he can still breathe! Three weeks, he tries to ground me! Over a piercing! Like a hoop in my nose is the worst possible thing I could do? Ho… I'd like to show him! I'd like him to see what I can do and then see how he takes it! And he's got the nerve to say he loves me too much to let me ruin myself! GOD! What a… Hnng!"
Helona closed her eyes, taking a breath. She hadn't thought she'd end up being a babysitter, but here she was. The joys of desk duty. She opened her eyes again as she continued to type, taking in what Phaedra said. "I don't think he'd have trouble breathing. He just wouldn't like what he smells too much," she said dryly. "...He 'tried' to ground you. So he didn't succeed?" she asked, looking over at her with a quirked brow. "And what would you do, given the chance?"
With a smirk, Phae shrugged, "He doesn't have the balls to call my mom and tell her he wants me grounded. All that bravado and he's scared of a five-foot-five ginger ex." Leaning back, arms behind her head in what she thought made a pretty convincing air of nonchalance, she met the woman's quirk with her own, "I dunno… Maybe I'll just go get some huge, hot-headed, tattooed biker boyfriend or… hold up a drug store. Hell… He's so worried I'm ruining my life, maybe that's just what I'll do! He deserves it… the big jerk."
"To be fair, if my own ex were around and he knew what was good for him, he'd better be scared of me," Helona commented. "So I can't blame him there." She paused, hands stilling on her keyboard. She took her fingers off of them completely as she turned back to look at Phaedra, completely unconvinced by her supposed nonchalance. "So you'd ruin your own life, or at least the path to some goal you have in the future, just for the sake of spite? That sounds a little self-destructive."
"Self-destructive. God. What do you old people do? Get a codebook of weird 'parenty' things to say? I'm not really gonna do it. It's just… It's like he thinks I'm still seven. I'd practically an adult… I shouldn't have to justify my choices… least of all to someone who doesn't even give a damn about me. Not like he really cares. He just wants to sound important…" Uncrossing her arms she sat them in her lap, picking at her fingernail, "I didn't know you were married…?"
"Yep," Helona deadpanned. "We're given a whole book a few months before we're allowed to pop children into the world, and we have to read it, just so we all know exactly what to say to embarrass them and frustrate them." She pursed her lips, considering what Phaedra said. "I doubt that. He cares, I'm sure. Some of us are terrible at showing that we do, but it doesn't mean that we don't. Why...do you think he just wants to sound important?" It was an interesting phrase, interesting choice of words in general. Why to sound important?
She managed a snort of a laugh, shaking her head as she corrected a typo. "Engaged, not married. Didn't pan out to the wedding stage. Difference of beliefs, and all that," she explained.
At the woman's response, Phae's features shifted, and for a second, she looked as if she might burst out laughing. But biting hard on her cheek, she fought the amusement, forcing it down in her furious rage, "What makes you so damn sure he cares? You're what…? His secretary? How do you know what he's thinking? He's a complete… fathead jerk." At her question, however, Phaedra sat up a little straighter, rubbing her arms, "He's always been this way. Just wants everyone in the world to be under his thumb. It's about control. It's always about control."
A sigh escaped, but only for a moment, as curiosity returned to her expression, "...Was he a jerk, too? Your fiance?"
"I can't be totally sure," Helona admitted, sighing. "The thing that makes me feel like I can be, though, is that I've been there. I don't know if you've heard or even what you've heard, considering we're in the same building as David Asher the gossiping hen," she started to explain, snorting a bit of a laugh, "but I used to have a son. I'm the way I am, and I've always been that way, so I know that it didn't always seem like I cared as much as I did." She idly brushed her fingers over the surface of the keyboard. "I'm more than a secretary. Maybe not to your father, but I am. Regardless, I don't know what he's thinking. I can only guess, based on where I've been." A slight frown formed as Phaedra explained that it was about control.
She leaned back in her chair. "He...he was a lot of things. Just… When it came to what he wanted out of his life and the world, and what I wanted, we couldn't agree. I couldn't reconcile with his views for the future, and he couldn't support mine. It wasn't exactly amiable, considering what we split over," she said softly, eyes pointed down at her desk as she slid her thumb over the edge of it. Not quite the truth, not the whole truth anyway. Her past relationship was what it was, though.
"Ugh… Asser. I hate that guy. He's just… He's such a putz." Frowning, she pulled her knees up onto the chair, resting her chin against them, "I get that. My… my mom, she just didn't feel like dad wanted to be there, you know? He was always working. Always. So she left. It wasn't easy on her, but she's better for it…" Biting her lip, she studied the woman across from her, "What uh… What do you mean… used to have a son?"
Helona just managed to stop herself from laughing, but if she smirked a little, she'd never admit it. "Don't tell him you called him that. Not if I'm not there to see it, at least," she commented, shaking her head. "It's a good reason to leave. Feeling like things aren't working out, like someone wants something else more than they do you." She nodded sagely before sighing.
"It's a kind of an involved story, but basically, I used to have a son until… well, until he was taken from me," she explained, trying to mentally put herself back into the place she had been just over four years ago. She left something in her tone that suggested her son was more than just 'taken'. "The way the world is, with mutants everywhere… They took him from me. I wanted the chance to see him grow up, to build a future, and I didn't get the chance. It's why I'm here. I want to do what I can, in whatever role I can, so that one day, no one has to go through what my son and I did ever again." It was true, even. It was why she was here, sitting at this desk, typing a report. "I guess even desk work has its place in that kind of future."
Her own smile splashed across her face briefly, eyes glittering with.mischief, "Old Dave? He won't come near me. I think he's afraid of me cause I'm the boss's kid. God, It's fun to mess with him…"
Shifting as Helona went on, the amusement flickered away and there was something suddenly much more genuine in the girl's gaze, "...I'm really sorry, Miss Locklear. I… That must suck." Looking down, she continued to pick at a frayed cuticle, "...Y ..you know he hates them, right? Mutants? My dad?"
Helona shook her head, huffing a laugh. She liked playing with fire, that one. "All I ask is if you do say it, I'm there to see the look on his face," she said. Phaedra was probably right, too. She was the kind of problem he couldn't point a gun at, and she had the impression Asher didn't like problems that couldn't be solved with guns.
She tilted her head, concern trickling into the back of her head. Had she worded something wrong? Had Phaedra picked up on what she hadn't said? She clamped down on it, that worry, before speaking. "Yes, I'm well aware." Hate might even be understating how Kane felt about them.
"Is… is that why… Why you work for him?" She asked softly, and when she looked up, she was a great deal more pale than she had been a moment ago, "Do you… do you hate them, too?"
Helona paused, taking a moment to consider this. Did she really want to imprint a lie onto this girl? Maybe, as far as ages and legality went, Phaedra was close to being an adult. Even then, though, she was young. So, so very young. Did she want to shape that by lying about her beliefs? And did she want to put her cover on the line in case word got back to Kane?
"Why I work for him...I think this world could do with a lot of change. Being here is what I can do to help that," she explained, careful of her own words. She flicked her gaze to the other door, where Phaedra had come from a few minutes ago. She lowered her voice, "But between you and me? No, I don't hate them. I don't hate people for the things they can't control." It was something she could feasibly bounce back from, if the words got to Kane, but with any luck, Phaedra wasn't eager to chat about that sort of thing with her father.
Her lip had started to tremble as she studied the woman further, eyes burning with tears. For a moment, she was silent, and when she spoke it was barely a whisper, quivering and weak, "M-miss Locklear… I…" blinking, swiftly, as if she'd just remembered fire was hot when her hand was over a candle, she swallowed, snapped her mouth shut, "I'm sorry. About your son. That.. That really sucks. What was his name?"
Helona eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. Her hearing aids had only just caught it, that whisper of her name, but it was there. She was on the verge of asking what it was before Phaedra recovered. This felt a little like playing with fire. Didn't Kane have some sort of list somewhere of people he was looking for? Wouldn't he be on that list?
"Nick. His name was Nick," she answered, with a small smile. "Don't you have homework that you were supposed to be doing?"
"Nick? Bet he was pretty cute. You're kind of a fox, Miss Locklear, even if you're older." With a shrug, she grinned, sitting back in her chair, "Homework? God… You really do get a manual when you have kids, don't you?"
Helona choked, the sound fading into an airy laugh. "He'd be a bit old for you, but thank you. Maybe… maybe I'll consider bringing old pictures of him," she said, shaking her head at the girl in front of her. "We really do. It's a big one too. Thousands and thousands of pages, and at least half of it is bad jokes you can use now as a parent."
"Old for me? Pssh. Miss Locklear… if I'm gonna freak my dad out, an older, mature guy is exactly what I need." But it seemed to occur to her that line of thinking might be difficult, considering Nick was… hm… "That'd… that'd be nice. I'd like that."
Swallowing, she lowered her gaze again, picking at her thumbnail, "...Dad probably ripped those pages out and burned them. Don't think I've heard him make a joke in my whole life… not even on accident." Reaching for the bag she'd dropped by the desk, she pulled out a textbook, a notepad shoved inside of it. Tugging it loose, she pulled a pencil free from the mess of a bun on top of her head, "Hey, Miss Locklear? Can… could I ask you something?"
"I think ten years might be a bit much, no matter how much he might have fit the edgy picture you're going for," Helona snorted. He wasn't particularly hotheaded, or anything else Phaedra considered enough to tick off her dad, either. "One day. I don't think it'll be for a little while though," she admitted.
"...He might've skipped those. He's a skimmer, that man," she considered, her humor as dry as ever. She returned to the report in front of her. She probably needed to be working on that, instead of chatting up Kane's daughter. She glanced over again as said daughter spoke. "Go for it."
"Yeah, no. That… that's fine. I get it…" It couldn't be easy for the woman… Phaedra had never lost anyone important to her. Not in a way that felt the way losing her own kid must, "Honest… it's no big deal."
Biting her lip, she looked down at the notepad, and her cheeks colored slightly, "...Have you ever had like… a really… really big secret? One that… that would probably get you into a lot of trouble, if someone found out?"
Helona gave her a small smile. She'd have to dig through her stuff, to see if she could find a picture of Nick that wasn't recent. Something that couldn't be used to identify him easily as her son. It would put him in more danger, and her as well.
She then swore she felt her blood turn to ice. She kept her breathing level, despite her rapidly beating heart. Fear is a weapon and a tool she reminded herself. Don't let it get the better of you when used by someone else.
"Once or twice," she admitted, her hands still on her keyboard. "Phaedra? What is it?"
Swallowing hard, Phaedra drew the pencil across the paper, her mind unraveling for a moment as the words hovered. Her hands shook, making sloppy work of the words she wrote, and with a small, anxious breath, she ripped off the page and balled it up, tossing it in the trash bin beneath the desk, "N-nothing. Just… just a dumb question." Smiling, she rose suddenly, grabbing her backpack, "I should probably go. Asher pulled the short straw… gets to drive me home. I'll call him a putz and record it on my cell if I can…"
Helona's brow furrowed, concern written across her face. She watched as the girl seemed to write before ripping the page out and wadding it up. "Okay…" she said slowly, entirely unconvinced. That was the sort of question that got asked when someone had something to say. "You know you can talk to me, if you want to," she added.
"Make sure you get a good view of his face, if you can. Or just call him Ass-er," she offered.
"Sure, Miss. Locklear." Phae nodded, with a weak, forced smile, "I know. Thanks. You uh… don't let him work you too hard, okay? For an adult, you're not half bad, but he'll wreck that if he gets a chance to." Giving a small, playful salute, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and turned, but paused, before she reached the door, glancing over her shoulder, "You say that like I don't call him that, all the time…" And with a wink, Phaedra slipped out.
"I'll try," Helona said, giving her a sad smile of her own. "I think I wrecked that myself, but thank you." She waved as Phaedra started out the door, smirking and shaking her head as the girl spoke one last time. She settled, slowly, back into the silence of her office. Ice still lingered in her blood as she started to work on the report once again.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Grown Up ChatCollabs with Cloudy and ElleIt was late now, or early… and Finn had woken up from the most restful sleep he'd ever experienced. It was only made better when he woke up in time to watch Rose sleep, nestled perfectly against him, peaceful and beautiful with her brown locks sprawled and a lingering smile. Peace had been something he thought impossible, and yet, with her in his arms, there was a throbbing in his chest, a good kind, the kind that ached out of pure love.
When Rose got into the shower Finn stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, to greet his old friend the wind as it whistled through the morning leaves, and to find another on the balcony. "Oh," Finn said softly, coming up beside her. "Hey, Penny."
She'd only stepped out for a minute - to clear away the ghost of lingering doubt in her mind about everything they were doing. She'd seen Finn step out, first, and the small part of her mind that was still significantly overwhelmed by all that had happened in the last seventy-two hours strongly considered slipping back inside before she'd been seen. But that wasn't like Penny, and oddly enough, there was a twinge of comfort in seeing the young man looking somewhat rested.
"Hey, Astroboy. Everything alright…?"
Finn paused a moment to take her in; the presence of a woman he thought he once knew very well, a long time ago, now changed and grown. He couldn't decide, at this point, if her presence brought him discomfort or ease, but it was probably both. She seemed stressed, and of course, he didn't blame her, but the calm that Rose had allowed to wash over him still hadn't left, and Finn refused to let it go so easily.
"Everything's good." He replied, with a nod. "What about you? You've got your worried face on. Not sure it ever goes away, though…"
Chuckling lightly, Penny shook her head, hands gripping the railing of the balcony, "I'm gonna try real hard not to be offended by that.. But I'm fine. Just…" A small sigh escaped as she glanced over her shoulder to the room she'd come out of, "...It's harder, Finn. When you've got people to protect and watch over. Life wasn't fun when I was on my own, but hell if it wasn't a little less stressful."
Finn nodded solemnly, following her gaze back to the room, and then turning towards the open sky. "It makes it a lot scarier, when it's not just you. Funny how.. the people we're most careless with is ourselves." He murmured. "But without someone to care for… life loses meaning too quickly. Way too quickly."
A brow rose, and looking over at him, Penny smiled faintly, "...Far cry from the kid who just about died on my doorstep a few nights ago. Where'd badass independant wandering angst-lord Finn run off to?"
Finn met her smile for a moment, before it flickered away. "That Finn just about died seventeen times, alone and in pain." He scratched his chin. "Hell, Pen… that Finn is dead. He died. Spent years missing you and telling myself I didn't deserve too. I stopped.. wanting… anything. And I don't want to want to die anymore."
"But he's gone for good?" She asked, looking over at him, "...Cause I gotta tell ya, Finn. I didn't like him too much. Reminded me too damn much of myself, before I got straightened out, and that's never a good thing."
Finn looked down, clasping his hands together over the railing. "I hope." Was all he murmured, a little sheepishly. "Why's every stupid hero gotta go through a phase like that?"
Laughing, Penny shook her head, "I dunno, Finn. Cause we're dumb, I guess. At any rate, I'm glad you've given up the emo life. Hot Topic got expensive and the clothes are cheap as hell...." Looking beyond him to the room, her expression shifted, "...How's Rose doing?"
"I couldn't have done it if you didn't welcome me back." Finn said with a small, thankful nod. At Penny's next question, Finn couldn't help the smile that brimmed almost unconsciously on his face. "She's good. She's really good. I mean.. n-not like… loving life on the run or anything but she's… uhm. She's good."
A brow rose, and Penny's gaze shifted slowly back to Finn, "...You definitely just said good three times there, pal." With a small smirk, she tipped her head a little to the side, "...Something you wanna tell me?"
Finn blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… You know… just…" He smiled awkwardly, avoiding her gaze. "Things are good. Fourth time."
Holding up her hands, Penny laughed again, "You know what. That's good enough for me. I don't really need or want to know the details. Just so long as they're good." Looking to him, she smiled a little more softly, "...Happy for you, Finn. Both of you."
The redness of his cheeks only deepened, and Finn shook his head, embarrassed. "Th.. thanks." He mumbled. "It.. it feels so… strange. I've been gone so long and she just… she took me back. You all did. I don't know how you can even stomach me."
"Because when family screws up, you don't throw them out, Finn. And Rose? She loves the hell out of you. I knew she'd never let you go. Why do you think I told her to stitch you up that night, instead of healing you?" With a small smirk, she shrugged, "Knew you'd probably bolt like a scared bunny if she made it too quick. And those big, pretty eyes of hers just needed to work their magic."
"Mostly I thought you wanted to make me hurt." He bit back, sticking his tongue out at her. "She does have pretty eyes." Finn hummed, sighing softly. "It feels surreal. It's been… so long. So long and suddenly… here I am. Doesn't feel real." Finn grinned sheepishly, and then held out his wrist to her, adorned in ink with a lucky penny.
'"I mean… I wasn't actively trying… but you deserved it a little bit." She teased with a grin, "And it is real, Finn, but it's not gonna be easy. Not for any of us." Looking as he extended his arm, she blinked, and her eyes widened slightly, "Aw geez, Finn. You tryin' to make me emotional?"
"I know it isn't, but I… I'm trying my best. I will try my best." Finn shrugged, looking at her. "N-no… I mean… maybe." He rolled his eyes. "Can you believe me, huh? Getting tattoos instead of coming home." Finn bit his lip. "...You're like a sister to me, Pen. You always have been."
Chuckling, Penny shook her and grabbing his wrist, tugged him into a tight hug, "You keep sayin' sorry, and I keep tellin' you it's forgiven. Wanna break outta the cycle, now or need some more reassurance?"
Finn brought his arms up around her, hugging her tightly. "No… just wanna hug you." He said softly. "I missed you like hell. And I thought about you every damn day. So I'm not letting go again."
'"Good. You try runnin' off on me again, I'll nail your toes to the floor." She smirked, giving him a pat on the back, "You take care of her, yeah? Rose? You take care of that girl."
"But I only have eight," Squeaked Finn, pulling away from her with a small cringe. "I will. I will." He said with a firm nod.
Laughing, Penny shook her head, "I don't wanna know why you've only got eight… But I believe you. Now… Maybe get back in there, cause she's probably gonna miss you if you're gone long."
"Y-yeah. I will, just… Penny? One more thing. You… you did good. With those kids, and Rose but that's not related and just… you're a good mom. I wanted to say so."
With a small smile, Penny shrugged, "Guess I got used to it with Rogue. You all were a bunch of spoiled, obnoxious, stubborn kids…" Shaking her head, she gave his arm a squeeze, "But thank you, Finn. That means a lot to me. I'm doing my best… even if it's sure as hell not what I expected four years ago."
Finn grinned, nodding. "Yeah, I won't deny that…" He shook his head. "At least you've got some actual kids now, huh?" Finn pushed off, taking a few steps back. "I'm goin' back to Rose. Your best's pretty damn good, Pen. It always has been." He waved. "See you in a few."
"Yeah…" she smiled faintly, "Especially since I can't have kids of my own. It's a change, but it's a good change… Say goodnight to Rose, yeah? I'll see you in a few hours."
"Yeah, cou- wait, what?" Finn stared at Penny in shock. "You can't just — drop a bomb like that on me and leave!"
Blinking, Penny paused, before a brow rose, and turning back, she shrugged, "I forget sometimes not everyone knows. Sorry, it's uh… It's kind of a long story. You remember how I told you back when Rose was in the infirmary at Orlando… about my past? Where I came from?"
Finn's expression sombered, and he lowered his head. "Oh, Pen… I'm sorry." He said softly, shaking his head. "But you… you got a good family anyway. Worked out well." Finn's brows furrowed for a moment, and then widened in sudden shock. "Um - Penny - I'm … Going back to Rose now, yep, see you later, okay?"
Blinking again, Penny shook her head and with a small shrug, nodded, "See ya, Finn." And with a wave, she returned to her own room, closing the door softly behind her.
With a short, panicky nod, Finn hustled off to his and Rose's own room, closing the door behind him a little too loud. "Um? Rose? You there?"
Steam filtered into the room as Rose poked her head out of the bathroom door, looking at Finn with a small flicker of concern as she tightened the towel around her, "Hey, sweetie. Right here? Everything alright…?"
Finn bit his lip, running a hand through his hair. "Um… did we… you know… the thing… er…. Penny was telling me how she… uhh… c-can't have kids…. and …" He waved his hands, panicked.
Confusion replaced the concern as Rose stepped further into the room, leaning against the doorframe and fixing Finn with a slightly wide-eyed expression, "Sweetheart. First of all, breathe… And then you're gonna need to say all of that again, in some form of English that I can understand. What does Penny having kids have to--" Pausing, she straightened, and her cheeks paled, before color filtered in, lighting her freckles on fire, "...OH… You… Oh. I… yikes."
"Y-yeah. Yep. Uhuh. That." Finn said quickly, bouncing from one foot to the other. "What do … we… uh… do .. about… that."
Watching him, Rose's expression shifted several times, from confusion, to uneasiness, and then to amusement, as a small laugh bubbled up, that she smothered with her hands, "Sorry… Just… Wow. I wasn't expecting… We really..." Looking over at him, she shook her head and crossing the room, reached out to take his hands, "...I'm not worried, Finn. I'm not."
Finn stared at her in terror, trying not to jump out of his skin. "Right, uh, not worried about the fact that it isn't gonna happen or like not worried about the fact that it is going to happen and — oh my god, Rose, it can't happen yet, we said not yet, I am not ready for that yet!"
"...Breathe…" Giving his hands a squeeze, she brought them to her lips, "It's been less than an hour. If you shake yourself to pieces worrying about it that fast, you won't make it long enough to even know. And I'm not worried, because whatever happens, we're together and we've got Penny and Deck and the kids. Finn… Sweetie. We've got a family, alright? Already. And I'm not scared of what comes or doesn't come, cause we're gonna be okay. Okay…?"
Taking a few raspy breaths that turned into steadier gasps, Finn nodded slowly, the panic in his eyes steadily diminishing. "O-okay. Okay. Y-yeah. Yes. Sorry, I… freaked out for a second, there…"
With a chuckle, Rose leaned forward to press her forehead to his, "...Don't need to be sorry. Kind of glad you thought about it. Just need to be more careful, you know? In the future."
A relieved sigh fell out of Finn as he closed his eyes. "Yes. Definitely. We were… I was.. v-very caught up in the moment. It was a very nice moment to be caught in. But yes. We'll be more careful." He rambled breathlessly.
Grinning, she nodded, and stepped back, tapping the end of his nose, "And on that note, I should probably get dressed, before we get caught up in any more moments." Biting her lip, she looked back at him as she headed for the bathroom again, "It was though, Finn. A very nice moment."
Finn blushed, stepping back as well. "Yes. Just, Rose… D-don't… um.. tell anyone yet, because Deck will… throttle me." He grinned weakly. "Yup. A very nice moment."
"I wasn't planning on telling anyone…" She said, with a chuckle, "Especially not Deck. But I wouldn't worry, too much, Finn. We're adults… even if we do love comic books." She disappeared back into the bathroom to dress, and when she reappeared, she was drying her hair with the towel, "Showers all yours."
Finn nodded. "Yeah, you know, sometimes I forget that." He mumbled. When she came out, Finn stepped forward sliding his palm against her cheek, leaning in for a kiss. "I love you," He said softly, pressing their foreheads together afterwards. "Whatever happens… I'm with you."
With a small, reserved sigh, she leaned into that kiss, her fingers curved around his as she nodded, "I know, Finn. I don't doubt it for one second, and that's why I'm not worried, one bit. I love you, too."
A smile grew on his face, pressing one more kiss to the edge of her lips before heading past her to the bathroom. "One thing I missed while on the lam… definitely showers."
With a laugh, Rose shook her head, "Can't say I'm sorry I missed those days! Enjoy it, sweetie." and as he moved off to the bathroom, Rose returned to sink comfortably back onto the bed.
Finn emerged some time later, steam pouring from the bathroom as he shook out his hair and shrugged on a shirt. "Damn," He breathed. "I missed boiling myself like a lobster. I totally used all the hot water."
Looking up at him, Rose snickered, "It's a motel. I think you're safe there…" Patting the space beside her, she smiled, "So, what were you and Penny talking about?"
Finn happily sat down next to her, nudging her gently. "Oh, you know. The usual. Superhero life struggles. Tellin' her I'm sorry for the thousandth time… her telling me to take care of your butt."
"And did she tell you to stop apologizing, because we've all literally forgiven you a thousand times?" A brow rose as she nudged him back, grinning slightly, "And just my butt? That's oddly specific…"
"Yeah, yeah, that was mentioned somewhere in there," Finn said, waving his hand, and snorting at her next comment. "Hey, you know that's not what I meant. But you do have a very cute one."
"Good. That's what you need to hear." Cheeks slightly pink, she rolled onto her side to poke his ribs, "Thank you. Now behave and quit being so cute. We're supposed to be avoiding things that lead to getting caught up in the moment, remember?"
"Uhg. I know." Finn said with a reluctant sigh, even though he brought his hand up to cup her blushing cheek. "But you make it really hard to not get caught up in the moment. One more kiss.. for good measure."
Grinning, Rose shook her head, "Oh, we are gonna be in so much trouble, Finn Westfall…" but she leaned in anyway.
With a small grin, Finn closed his eyes, leaning happily into the blissful kiss. "Thought you said the only person getting you in trouble was you."
"Well, that was before the moment happened…" She giggled, burrowing into the crook of his chin, "And before I knew how much I'd like getting into trouble."
Finn chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. "I think I'd… be a pretty alright dad." He mumbled.
"I think you would be an incredible dad, Finn…" She murmured, lacing her fingers through his, "Except for maybe the cheating at Uno part. But we'll work on that."
Finn laughed, squeezing her hand. "Travis probably cheated first." He retorted, snuggling into her further, now pressing his cheek to hers. "It's scary when you think about… how shitty your own parents were. But maybe that gives you the right fuel to do the exact opposite."
"I think so… I also think we have some pretty great examples in Penny and Deck… and I think it matters what kind of person you are or wanna be… And the person you start that family with." Brushing her thumb over his, she smiled faintly, "The person you are and the person you marry make all the difference to the people you make together."
Finn blushed, nodding along with her words up until a certain point, not letting go of her but pausing. "Marry?" He murmured.
Blinking, Rose chuckled lightly, "Well, I mean… That's generally the way families work. Though I suppose in a non-traditional sense… it's just… the basic notion, you know?"
"N-no… I… I know… just.. I want… to do it… right. And make it.. s-special. You know?" He said tentatively, still holding her hand tightly.
"Make what special?" Blinking, Rose looked at him with a chuckle, "I'm not following, here…"
"W-when… I… Rose, y-you know… When I do that." Finn said, blushing further.
"O-oh!" Her own cheeks colored, and looking down, Rose laughed softly, "S-so… hm. I didn't know if… I mean, I didn't want to assume…"
Finn looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to run away from his deepening blush. "It.. it'll come. That's all."
Leaning forward, Rose pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Then I look forward to it. Whatever happens, Finn, I'm just… I'm really glad you're here."
Finn smiled, curling his fingers in her hair. "Me too. Me too." He hummed, kissing the top of her head. "..I love you, Rose."
"And I love you, Finn." Curling into his arms, she smiled, "Should rest a bit more. We'll head out when the sun's up."
Leaning back with Rose, Finn nuzzled into her, letting out a happy sigh. "Night. Or.. morning. I dunno." He giggled.
"Somewhere in between." Rose agreed, arms loops around him, "Sleep well, sweetie."
All Static, No Mercy Collab with @Elle Joyner
Interactions: Jeremiah Kane, Asher, Aster @Elle Joyner, and Dorien Dorien had curled around Aster. He laid close to her on one cot, arms wrapped around her, as he buried his face in her hair. He wasn't sure exactly what time it was. He hadn't thought to grab his watch when he first had been brought to this facility, though sometimes he sorely wished he had. It would've saved him a little trouble, by giving himself a chance to predict when they'd come through the door for yet another vision.
Oh, God, the visions. So many people, so many visions. His head was pounding when he went to sleep each night and it was still sore even when he woke up. It often felt as if it threatened to crack open his skull, with each vision he saw. There were so many. So many he was hurting, so many he was dooming like this. He hated it. He hated every second of it. Even the fact that he and Aster were curled together so tightly it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began could've been made better if they hadn't been here.
"Hey, Aster?" he said softly, just moving his face far enough away from hers that he could speak.
They should've been at home… curled up in the comfort and warmth of Dorien's apartment, laughing about terrible scar-stories and hanging on the the sanity that good old Alastor had left them with. They should've been together good and proper, not smushed onto a solitary cot, forced to take moments between threats and pain and forced visions and fear…
Dorien's voice broke the silence, but Aster didn't jump. She was long past the point of startling… her nerves were fried, nearly numb, and every inch of her hurt… like a broken mush of human…
Turning over, sorry for the one-thousandth time that she was facing the man she loved in such a miserable place, she forced a smile, "What's up, Fish?"
"Where do you want to go, when we're out of here?" Dorien's voice was soft, weak. He didn't talk as much about getting out anymore. He knew how slim a chance it was. Every time he'd been brought up for visions, he checked for openings. He checked the door had locked them in, and that they had passed by yet another day with no chance to escape. He knew it would take a miracle to get out of this. Still, he couldn't help but wonder. "If you could go anywhere, do anything, what do you want to do?"
Looking at him, meeting his tired gaze, Aster shook her head, her fingertips trailing along his jawline with a weary delicacy "...Anywhere. Everywhere. I don't care where we go… as long as we have each other." Leaning her forehead to his, she let her eyes flutter closed, "I don't wanna wait to say it anymore, Dorien. Truth is, I don't think we're gettin' out of this, and if this is the last chance I've got to tell you I love you, then I'm gonna say it. I hate myself for waiting so long… for knowing we could've had a life together… I'm not waiting anymore. Even if that life together is the next few minutes…"
Dorien breathed softly as he felt her forehead press against his. "Shit, now I feel dumb. I was just going to say I was going to smuggle you into a movie theatre under a big coat," he laughed weakly, though the sound bordered crying. He slid a hand behind her neck, fingertips brushing against skin before they threaded through her hair. His eyes closed as well, and for a moment he said nothing. "I love you, too." He then sniffed, "Don't hate yourself. We've got right now, even if it's all we get."
"It's not fair, Fish…" She whispered, shaking her head, "When the hell do we get out happily ever after, you know? All the crap we've been through, and this is where it ends? It's wrong…" Opening her eyes, she cupped his jaw, kissed his forehead, "...I dunno how to keep holding on to hope… I'm slipping, Dor… and I dunno how to hang on."
"No, it's not," he agreed. "We'll get it eventually." It was tough to say when it didn't look like that was going to happen. He didn't feel like that was going to happen, but he had to believe it. He'd believe it until the very end. "Just hold onto me, then," he offered, "because I plan on sticking it out as long as I can. I plan on keeping hope."
Curling closer to him, her cheek against his chest, she nodded, "If you can, I can. I will. I'm gonna hold out, Dorien. Hell, man… We survived too much to give up. I don't wanna give up. Screw giving up and screw this place and these people…" Straightening, she dried her eyes with her palm, forcing a smile, "What doesn't kill ya makes you stronger, right?"
"Screw them all," Dorien agreed with another weak laugh. As she curled closer to him, he wrapped his arms around her a little tighter. He wanted to remember this, remember what it felt like, in case one day he no longer had it. In case that day was his final day and he was still in this hellhole when it happened. "Yeah, no kidding. Getting forked does wonders for your strength, by the way."
There was a beeping sound, and the door slid opened with a hushed hiss. Sitting up, Aster frowned, meeting the eyes of David Asher with a narrow glare, "...I know someone I'd like to fork…" She muttered.
"Let's go kids… Time to get to work." Asher said, as if he'd heard nothing at all. Giving them a wiggle of his finger, he left the room again.
Dorien rolled over to face the door, sighing softly as his feet hit the floor. Pain lanced through his head, but he said nothing. The only sign was a grimace as he stood up. He couldn't help but snort at Aster's comment, smiling faintly at her before it faded. He moved to follow Asher, knowing that the sooner he got this over with, the sooner it would be done, and they'd be back in this room again.
"Got a big one for you, today, TomTom…" Asher continued, when they were out in the hallway, "That little bitch who got away from us? You're gonna find her, again…" Holding up a plastic baggie in hand, Asher grinned. Inside, was a small black ball, attached to a ring, the silver of the ring tarnished the rusty brown.
"Ripped it out of her ear… Figured it'd come in handy."
Looking to Dorien, Aster shook her head, "Fork's too good… Need a spoon."
Dorien's eyes widened behind silver frames as he saw the earring. He noticed the rusty brown, hoping it wasn't what he thought it was, only for it to be confirmed. He'd ripped it out of this girl's ear. What else had they done to her? What had they done to all of the people he'd found for them? He let out a shaky breath, saying nothing to Asher despite wanting to. He didn't want to antagonize him… not right now.
"A rusty one," he added in agreement under his breath, looking over at Aster.
Wordlessly, Aster nodded, but her spark of vindictiveness faded slightly as they entered the elevator. Normally, things ran smoothly… without incident, but Kane was never polite, and took every opportunity to remind Dorien what the stakes were. Aster could handle the pain, but seeing how it affected Dorien was nearly unbearable.
When they reached the upper floor and were lead from the elevator to Kane's office entrance, Aster reached to give Dorien's hand a squeeze, "I'm right here with you…" She whispered, "That's the only place I ever need to be."
Dorien took a deep breath. Another vision or two. He could do that. He could work with that, despite the pounding in his head. He felt the squeeze as they were herded out of the elevator. He gave Aster a small smile, squeezing back gently. "Thank you," he murmured.
As Asher ushered them into the office, Jeremiah Kane rose from him his desk, his eyes flickering between Aster and Dorien, before he nodded the latter into a seat, giving Asher a nod to hold on to Aster's arm.
"Grace Hammond is giving us a world of difficulty, Mr. Willis. I need you to find her, so that we can eliminate her. Today... Please know, if you fail me, the consequences will be quite severe…. Understood?" Nodding to Asher again, the other man tossed the bag containing the earring over to Dorien.
"Knock 'em dead, Tomtom."
Dorien carefully slid his hand from Aster's after giving it one last squeeze. "I understand," he said. He definitely understood. He worked his jaw as he caught the plastic bag. God, he didn't want to touch that. He really didn't want to touch that. He wanted them to touch Aster even less, though, so here went nothing.
He opened the bag, tipping it over to drop the earring in his hand. His skin crawled as he took a breath and closed his hand over it. With a lot more concentration than it would've taken him before being taken by Kane, he was finally able to find that sliver of connection with his powers. He inhaled sharply, eyes rolling back, as his head gave him one last jab of pain. To the outside, he was eerily still with shallow breathing. As his eyes opened again, his pupils were blown wide as he sightlessly stared into a wall. It was almost serene.
To Dorien, it was anything but. He felt the rush, the feeling like he was attached to a rollercoaster that had lost control. Faster, faster, faster until… there was nothing. Nothing.
The rush stopped abruptly, as if he'd been slammed into a wall. It was enough that even Dorien's face twitched in the room with Kane. There was nothing. His powers had stopped completely, and all there was was darkness and static. No. No. His powers couldn't give out now. They couldn't. Please, God, not now.
Panic rose in Dorien as he took hold of his own power, using it to search the block desperately. It skittered over it, searching for cracks and crevices, anything that could be breached. There was nothing. Nothing.
Dorien was thrown back into reality, gasping like he'd surfaced from underwater as his sight showed him Kane's office once again. Instead of rattling off details like he normally did, he was in silent shock. A panicked sort of numbness had taken hold of him. This was bad. This was going to be so bad.
"Well…?" Kane asked, hands steepled in front of him. He'd sat back down, but rose as Dorien regained focus again, a small frown on his lips at the expression on the younger man's face, "Where is she?"
Think, think, think. What could he say? What could he do? If he even remotely let on that he thought his powers had stopped working, both he and Aster were done for. "...I-I don't think I got enough from one vision," he said after a moment. It was true. He didn't get nearly enough. "There wasn't a lot of detail. I might...I might need to do it again." Panic had started to settle in his stomach, threatening to surface. Please, let him buy it.
"...Is that so?" The frown deepened, and Kane crossed around the desk, his eyes on Aster, narrowing slightly, "Then by all means… Give it another try." But there was a finality in his tone that suggested this wouldn't happen twice.
Dorien swallowed. Hopefully this would be all he needed. He just needed one more try. One more, to try and fix this. One more so that Kane wouldn't touch Aster. He closed his hand around the earring again, eyes rolling back once again.
He was flung back into the darkness. Instead of letting his powers bounce off whatever was blocking him, he bore down on it. He slammed his powers into it, desperate. He searched for any weak point, not wasting any time with the surprise the way he had the first time. He clawed at it, searching for purchase, trying to make his own entrance through whatever this was. His powers couldn't be broken. They couldn't be. He slammed into the wall again, still searching for any weak point, searching for anything that could free him from whatever had trapped him. There was nothing. Nothing at all.
His eyes opened in Kane's office, gasping once again as it felt like he'd been flung back into his body. Still, he said nothing. He had nothing to say.
A brow rose, as Dorien once again emerged from the void and frowning softly, he looked to the man, "...Well?"
"I-I'm not sure what's going on. There's not a lot I'm getting," Dorien admitted. "I don't-I'm not-" He cut himself off, running a hand down his face. "I hate to ask this, but...one more time?"
Breathing in, Kane shook his head, his gaze lowering to the floor briefly, "Asher… if you would please…"
Without hesitation, Asher brought his foot to the back of Aster's knees, and the girl dropped with a small cry to the floor.
From his breast pocket, Kane produced a handgun.
"No," Dorien said softly, voice no more than a whisper. He saw as Aster hit the floor, the panic that was in his stomach rising further and further up his throat. Then he saw the gun. "Please! Please, don't. I just didn't get enough the first time. Let me do it again. Just let me try it again!"
Stepping forward, Kane stared at Aster with a narrowed vision, "You think I give a damn about your excuses!? We had a deal and you have the nerve to try and play coy with this information? I warned you Willis! I warned you what would happen if you tired to get around this…" Raising the weapon, he swung it down, smacking it into Aster's cheek. With another cry, Aster dropped to her side.
"No! I'm not, I'm not, I swear I'm not! Please! Just let me do it one more time. One more time, and I'll get you what you need! Please!" That panic was clawing up his throat, threatening to surface. His voice was starting to shake. No, not like this. Please, not like this. What could he do, what could he do? He flinched as Aster was struck, a fierce "NO!" ripping itself from his throat. His eyes were stinging, blinding him as he started to plead. "Please! Please!"
"I warned you when we first spoke… I am not a patient man." With a click, he pulled back the hammer on the gun, aiming down at Aster, who stared hard into the carpet, hands quaking, "I am going to count to ten… Find her, or I remove one more obstacle in my path to a mutant free world. One… Two…"
Lie, lie, lie. He'd have to lie. He'd have to. A sob ripped from his throat as he wracked his brain, formulating an image so clearly he could've even seen it in a vision. "She's in the forest," Dorien started, choking back another sob as he caught sight of Aster. Tears were running down his cheeks at this point. He had to keep going. Details, details. The devil was in the details. "Somewhere in the forest. Not far from where she was the last time. She...she was on a backroad, old road. Barely more than dirt. She was driving, headed north. Someone was in the car with her. She was talking to them. She didn't look at them, didn't say their name, but she was with someone." Hopefully, it was enough. Please, let it be enough.
For a moment, Kane remained in place, the gun hand steady, unmoving. Then, finally, straightening, he lowered his arm, "Must've gone back to the cottage. Take the chopper, Asher. Now! Go! If we have any chance of getting to her…"
Asher nodded, and without a word, moved to the door, as Kane turned to Dorien, "...What… Happened. Tell me, now."
For a moment, Dorien almost cried in relief. Asher was gone, the gun was lowered. Then, he had to face Kane directly. He swallowed. "I had trouble focusing it. I'm.. I'm getting tugged in about 5 different directions at a time, with who you're looking for. Open connections that haven't been closed yet," he said. Technically true, though not what was happening now. He had no idea what was happening now. "It was kind of shaky the first time around, and the second, I could only get so many details. I wanted...to make sure you got a full picture."
"If Asher does not find her… in the next few hours… I will put a bullet in her. Do you understand that, Mr. Willis? This is the last time I will give you the benefit of doubt. If Grace Hammond is not on a slab within the next forty-eight hours, there will be no more mercy."
He'd only stalled. He'd delayed the inevitable. A few hours before things started shifting for the worst again. Two days, before there'd be nothing left of either him or Aster. "I understand, sir," Dorien said with a nod. He understood. He understood very well. Get out in the next few days, or they were never getting out at all.
Shuffling the handgun back into his pocket, he nodded to the other guard by the door, "Get them out of my sight… Inform me immediately if Asher has success." The guard approached and reaching down, grabbed for Aster's arm, but yanking it away, she pushed herself to her feet, holding the back of her had to the gash on her cheek, eyes narrowed at the man now seated behind his desk. She said nothing, but it was all there in her eyes…
"Let's go." The guard growled, moving to the door.
Dorien was dead silent, taking a moment to take a breath and wipe away his tears. He followed the guard, swallowing. Get out in the next few days, or they were never getting out at all. It was fortifying, in the worst kind of way. He glance at Aster as he followed behind the guard.
Breathing in, Aster turned to the door, following alongside Dorien. Out in the hallway, as they neared the elevator, she took hold of his hand with her own trembling fingers, holding it like a vice. When they had made it back to their cell and the guard keyed in the code to let them inside, she stepped in and without a word, collapsed onto the cot.
Dorien squeezed her hand, in apology, as they made their way back to the cell. He followed her lead, carefully curling up with her on the cot. He should tell her. Tell exactly what had happened. Tell her what was coming. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I...I think they broke them."
"It's doesn't matter…" She whispered, curling her arms around him, "You don't have to explain. He's pushed you so hard, Dorien… and you can't… you can't blame yourself. You can't... Do you hear me?" Looking up at him, sniffing softly, she shook her head, "Promise me you won't blame yourself for this…"
Dorien made a noise suspiciously like a sob. "How can I not?" he asked. He could he not blame himself, even if he couldn't help that his powers had stopped responding the way they should? "They're gonna-" he cut himself off, shaking his head. He held her tightly, refusing to let go. "I'm so sorry."
"Stop…" Curling her fingers through his hair, she cupped the sides of his head and pulling him close, kissed his crown, his forehead, his cheek, "Dorien, please. Stop. They are the ones who did this to us. Not you. They brought up into this, and all we can do is be strong, together, until it's over. Don't fall apart on me, now. Not when you're all that's holding me up… Okay? Please…"
Dorien sniffed softly. "Okay," he answered, eyes closing as she pressed kisses to his face. He'd only stalled, only delayed it. That hope he'd promised Aster earlier was fading out, but he wouldn't tell her that. Not yet. Not ever. He pressed his forehead gently to hers. "Can I?" he asked, an echo of the first time he'd kissed her when this mess had just begun.
Fingers curling through his, Aster let her eyes flutter closed, nodding slowly, "You don't have to ask, Dorien. You don't ever have to ask…"
"I just want to make sure… so you never have to feel like you can't say no again," Dorien said softly, brushing a thumb over the back of Aster's hand. Then he pressed a kiss to her lips, gentle as always, before eventually pulling away again.
"I'd never say no to you, Dorien… All of what I am? It belongs to you… in your hands, as long as I've got left to live." Leaning into him, her eyes opened again, meeting his gaze, "...The next five minutes or the next fifty years, Dorien. You never have to ask."
"And you said I was the one with the way with words," Dorien said softly, a sad smile creeping onto his face. He gently ran his fingers through her hair, pushing a few locks away from her face as she met his gaze. "You say I don't have to. Would you mind if I did anyway?" he asked after a moment.
"So polite, Fish…" Aster murmured softly, her own fingertips glancing delicately along his jaw, down the stem of his neck, "Of course I don't mind… that's just who you are, isn't it?"
Dorien chuckled softly, still smiling as he carefully ran his own fingers along her cheek, wary of touching the new gash there. "I guess so," he answered. As he laid there, though, taking in the woman who had been with him through everything, his eyes started to sting again. "I love you."
"I love you, too, Dorien… and I swear to God if we get out of this, there isn't any chance on God's green earth I am ever, ever gonna let you forget it…" Sniffing softly, she breathed out, fingers curling into his, bringing his knuckles to her lips, "For like… a few shining moments, Dorien… life was really good. You know that? Just cause I had you."
"You know I'm going to hold you to that, right?" Dorien joked lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he felt her lips on his knuckles. He made another noise between a laugh and a sob. "I'm starting to think you just like making me cry," he commented. "And I feel the same way about you. It was...really, really good."
"I hate making you cry, you beautiful man…" Looking up at him, she shook her head, "And if I can help it, I'm gonna make sure we never have to cry again. Not about this kind of crap…" It was an empty hope though… and she knew it. She knew what was coming, and she knew their chances of getting out were… well, slim… "Talk me out of my head, Fish. Talk me off the edge… Please?"
Dorien wiped at his eyes, sniffing even as he smiled at her. "You know, I'm starting to wonder how I didn't see it earlier, with how often you've called me a stud or beautiful," he said softly. He shook his head, taking a breath. "You gotta get off the edge. I can't cook Mexican food for you again if you don't. You won't be able to poke fun at the fact I got forked in the arm, and I know there's no way on Earth you'd let that happen." He'd started laughing at this point, though it was weak and airy and tinged with sadness. Still, he was laughing. "We've got time, Aster. We've still got time."
"I mean… I wasn't tryin' to hide it. I can't help it if Fish is too good a nickname… You seems to have a four second memory there, babe." Breathing out, she leaned into him, her forehead to his as she listened to his words, let them wrap around her like a warm blanket, "...God, I do need Mexican, though. First thing I'm gonna do, when we get out of here… is order myself a king's helping… and eat it all in one sitting… and hate myself after." Opening her eyes again, she smiled, "Second thing I'm gonna do… is kiss every damn scar you have, and make them better."
"You really weren't. You know, for a while, I just thought that was us? Just how we interacted. I didn't think anything was different, because nothing about how we acted...really changed, you know?" Dorien admitted after a moment before snorting. "Does that mean I'm your goldfish, Flower Girl?" He closed his eyes as she rested her forehead against his. "You know those absolutely giant burritos you can get at restaurants? The ones that could feed 100 people? That's how I wanna go. Death by monster-sized burrito." He opened an eye to look at her, grasping her hand and threading his fingers through hers. "You can do that, right after I'm done kissing all of yours. Do you know what the third thing is going to be, though?"
"You're my goldfish… and you always will be…" Even if it was only for the next five minutes, he was hers, "...Oh, yes. Giant Burrito dead is the only way to go, as far as I'm concerned…" Her eyes fell closed again, as his fingers slipped through hers, and breathing in, skin warming, she shook her head, "What's the third thing, Fish?"
Dorien's smile widened at hearing this. "Make sure you take care of me, Aster. I'm delicate," he teased. "Definitely. A burrito death is the only good death," he agreed. He was silent for a few moments as that grin crept onto his face. "Peanut butter cups. So many peanut butter cups. We find the biggest bag we can, and get at least ten of them."
"Oh, damn, Fish.... Jumpin' straight to it, huh? I already think you're sexy you know. You don't need to show off." How he managed to elicit a smile from her in such a terrible, horrible situation, she didn't know, but there it was, soft and tired and small, but there, all the same, "What's step four, though?"
Dorien cackled, despite the pain lancing through his head as he did so. "Absolutely. Just have to go straight for the good stuff. I might not need to show off, but I definitely want to," he answered, his own smile turning fond as he saw hers. "Ooh, that's a good question. You tell me."
"Hmm…" It was a teasing purr, as she shuffled closer, arms linked around him, head resting against his chest, "Step four… I think… involves a great deal of snuggling… Also cuddling… and if you play your cards right, Dorien Willis, some canoodling…"
"Oh, now we're just getting scandalous." He snorted, shaking his head. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. For as long as he could, he planned on holding her. For however long they had left, he'd make it a point to never let her go.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Let's Talk About How This is a Terrible IdeaCollab with Wing and EllePacing the floor of his office, Rett pinched the bridge of his nose, concern deep in his eyes as they studied the page before him. He'd read it a good fifteen times, already, yet somehow, the words written on it eluded his understanding. Jeremiah Kane was a name he hadn't heard in years… nearly a decade, in fact, but it was no less disturbing to see it as the heading of the secure email he'd received hours before. He'd already spoken to Anya and Logan, consulted with Wayne and Kristoff as well… and their consensus was simple enough, if not disturbing…
They needed a mole in the operation… and there weren't many people who fit the bill for what Kane typically employed.
He'd called Helona to his office, simply to discus.. Because in his mind, he'd already repealed the suggestion… thrown it out the window. Unfortunately, the choice wasn't only his to command, leader or not.
Helona walked to the door of Rett Munroe's office, expression as cool as ever. When he'd called her to his office, she had a decent idea of what they'd be talking about. This wasn't going to be a regular friendly chat. Ever since she'd heard from old friends, her brothers and sisters in arms from so long ago, that this was coming into play, the atmosphere around some of the members of the Underground shifted.
She was an easy choice for what was needed. She was a good choice. She wouldn't get pinged by scanners or blood tests the way others would, and given her history, it was practically a given. Stealth, observation, the ability to hang back and wait for the right moments. She wasn't familiar with Kane in particular, but if you've met one overbearing military commander, you've probably met most of them.
Still, she knocked on his door, waiting for him to call her inside.
"Come in…" The call came, almost as soon as she'd knocked. Setting the paper down on his desk and sliding off his reading glasses, pinching the ear piece between his teeth, he leaned against the desk frame with a small frown.
Helona fidgeted briefly with her hearing aids, making sure once again that they fit right and were on the right setting. It was more a habit than a necessity by now, but it still eased her mind for the conversation to come.
She opened the door of the office, slipping inside, before closing the door behind her. "You called for me?"
"I did, yes…" Straightening up, uncrossing his arms from his chest, Rett gestured to the pair of chairs near his desk, "Have a seat. I.. Ah. Sorry…" Moving to the chairs, he cleared the off of books that he'd piled there from earlier, putting these on the coffee table in the middle. Straightening, he nodded, "I'm guessing you know why you're here?"
"For the most part, yes," she answered with a nod. She moved to one of the chairs after he'd cleared them off, sitting down at his suggestion. "Starts with a K, rhymes with rain," she added with a slight hint of a smile.
Sinking into the other chair, Rett chuckled and nodded, "That's the one. You know that you don't have to do this, Lona. It's risky, even without the obvious factors in play. If he were to find out who you were… find out about any of this? There are other people who can do this job."
"I know," Helona confirmed. "I don't have to do it, but I'd feel better if I did. There are other people, yes, but do they have the same experience? I can go in, get what we need for however long, and then get back out. After everything you and your people have done for me, amongst others, I want to contribute. This? This looks like an excellent way to do it. We need someone for the job, and I fit the bill pretty well, Rett."
She gave him a warm smile. "Trust me. I plan on keeping my mouth shut about you when I'm up there, and I don't exactly put 'raised and trained a building full of mutants' on my resume. All he'll know is what I did for the military and whatever I tell him."
"I'm not worried about you turning on us…" Rett chuckled, shaking his head, "Even if Nick weren't a factor, I know you're loyal, Helona. I'm worried about you. Period. Jeremiah Kane is a dangerous man, with powerful sources and backing. If he so much as suspects there's something shady about you, he won't hesitate to take you down before it affects him. I want you to give me your word that if you feel like anything's off… anything at all… you will get yourself out of there as swiftly as possible."
"The entire situation is going to be off. If I make that promise, I might as well not go," Helona snorted, shaking her head. "I'll be careful. I'll mind what I say and what I do. I'll be as convincing as possible, so he doesn't suspect there's anything off until long after I'm gone."
"If something does feel like it's about to take a turn, though," she added with a sigh, knowing she wouldn't be off the hook until she did, "I'll get out as fast as I'm able. Promise."
Sighing, Rett pinched the bridge of his nose, preparing for an infamous Helona Locklear argument. It was only when she finally resigned to the promise that he dropped his hand back to his lap, eyes reading slightly surprised, "Very well, then… I stand on record as not liking this plan. Not remotely. But I've already signed the authorization forms and informed Kristoff to let Wyatt know you'll be leaving the Underground, shortly. I imagine you'd like to get started as quickly as possible?"
Helona raised an eyebrow as she watched him pinch the bridge of his nose, taking note of the surprised look as well. "Of course you do. You can say you'll miss me, Rett. Promise I won't judge too harshly," she teased lightly. "Soon," she agreed, sobering up a little. "I do have a rapport to build up with that slimy creature, but not immediately. I'd like to wait long enough to gather my stuff and tell Nick where I'm going to be, if nothing else."
"Quick question, though. Did you just pinch your nose at me?" she asked, face scrunched up in disbelief and what would've been distaste if it weren't for the sliver of a smile on her lips. "I'll fight you, old man," she warned, signing with her hands.
He was glad, for a moment, that he hadn't decided to take a drink of tea at that moment, and a dry laugh escaped, as he shook his head, "If you'd stop accepting life threatening missions, Lona, I wouldn't have to miss you. You've got time… No sense in rushing off if you aren't ready." There was still a sliver of hope that maybe Nick would be able to talk her out of it.
"And yes. Yes, I did. I wholly expected an argument, if I'm honest." With a grin, he watched her hands, before shaking his head, signing back a quick, 'I'd like to see you try.'
"No can do. I've got to do all the risky things I can before I'm as old as you," she teased. Nevermind she wasn't all that much younger than him and her knee had a bit more milage on it, what with bombs, shrapnel, and surgeries. She hadn't been lying, about wanting to contribute. This place felt as close to a home as she'd had since her old apartment had been raided, and before that, since before she'd joined the military.
"Who, me? Argue with you? I don't know where you got the impression I'd do that," Helona added, rolling her eyes. Those eyes narrowed slightly as he signed back at her. "Is that a challenge? I can take you, Rett."
A brow rose, amusement flickering behind his eyes, as he shook his head, "And you're what… ten… fifteen years my junior? I'm so old, I can hardly remember." With a grin, he leaned forward, "You may say you never argue, my dear, but your hands tell another story, entirely." Straightened, he worked his hands into the proper signs, 'I would never dream of challenging you, Lona. I learned my lesson three years ago, when you handed me my backside in your initiation…'
Sitting back, he frowned suddenly, and pinched his chin in thought, "...You will be careful, yes?"
Helona barked a laugh, "Actually, I'm 25, with 25 years of experience. Come on, Rett. Keep up." She gave him a pointed look as he leaned forward. She gave him a universal sign, middle finger up, as she smiled at him. "I don't know what you're talking about. They have a mind of their own, you know. See that?" she asked, raising her other hand to gave him the same universal sign, "It did that all on it's own."
"I'd always be happy to do it again, though," she answered, hands rolling as she sent him a wink. She pursed her lips, pausing. "Yes, I'll be careful," she agreed, slowly, because she suspected there might be more he wanted to say there.
"That's a lovely way to put it…" He said, with a small laugh, "I'm gonna steal that, and use it for myself." Her finger rose, and sitting up with a scandalized expression, Rett shook his head, "Did you say twenty-five with twenty-five years of experience? Or Twelve?" Grinning, he sank back into his seat.
At her agreement, he shifted, and leaning forward again, his expression softened, "...I tell you what, Helona. It's been too damn long since we sat and had a conversation that didn't involve work...When you get back, we'll get dinner."
"Nope, get your own quotes, Rett. You don't get to be 25 with 73 years of experience," she answered, chuckling all the while. "Oh, come on. At least give me some credit. I would never plan to have 20 years of experience as a teenager, of all things." She shook her head at him as he sunk into this seat.
"You know...it has been a while, hasn't it?" she mused. "Sure. Dinner it is, and no work conversation."
Laughing softly, Munroe shook his head, giving her a look, "Nope. Definitely not twelve. Maybe fifteen… All that teen angst. I see where Nick gets it."
Folding his hands in his lap, he nodded, "That it has… And now you've got a solid reason to come back. Wouldn't wanna miss out on my famous Pasta Carbonara… now would you? I've had people nearly kill each other over the recipe…"
Helona rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "I won't argue where Nick gets the edginess from, but please. Now you're just hurting me. Fifteen. I don't think I had anything together at fifteen," she snorted.
"Ooh, well now I have a reason to not be too reckless. You're ruining all my fun, Rett," she teased. "Then again...I really don't want to miss out on that. For what's worth, though, I have plenty of other reasons to come back."
"Good. Then have no fun, and come back to us, Lona. Safe and sound, alright? And soon as you're out, I'll whip up some pasta and we can talk about how mature it is to flip fifty-year old men the bird…" With a wink, he rose to his feet, "C'mon. I'll walk you out."
"Party pooper," Helona answered before rising to her feet as well. "I hear you. Safe and sound," she sighed, shaking her head. She pointed her finger at him. "One, it's very mature. You don't see children doing it, do you? Two, I flipped two birds at you, just for the record." She followed him to the door, gently knocking shoulders with him as she smiled.
Chuckling, Munroe slung his arm over the shoulder he'd been nudged with, and giving her a small hug, released her immediately, "Get it all out, now… You're about to become the secretary to a man who was born without a sense of humor or humanity. Last chance to walk away from it… Pasta's still on the table."
"Don't remind me. He's apparently been born without funny bones, and I'm stuck on desk duty." She made a face at the mere mention. For a good cause, she reminded herself. She asked for this. She volunteered for this. She just hoped that the intel she gathered for the underground was useful. "It's tempting, Rett. Really. But I think it's time to pack up and get ready to face him myself." She smiled faintly as he pulled her into a hug, however brief it was. She had a feeling that before long, she'd be missing that.
"Fair enough. I know better by now, than to try and fight my way through this. Try to keep us updated when you can, but nothing that'll be traced. Use code… and my private email. The untraceable one. Yeah?" Giving her a pat on the arm, he nodded, "...Be safe, Lona."
"Will do," Helona promised with a nod, recalling which email he was talking about. "I'll do my best, Rett. Take care of Nick for me. He's related to me, so I know that's a feat in itself, but do your best," she chuckled before bracing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Try not to miss me too much, okay? I'll be back before you know it." And with that wicked smile on her face, she slipped out the door to prepare for the mission ahead.
"He's in good hands…" He said, with a firm nod, "Don't even have to ask…" With a chuckle, he shook her head again, "...And I miss you already, Lo. See you…" Watching her leave, Rett sighed… Not ideal. Not ideal, at all.
Helona sorely wished that the last time Munroe had offered a way out of this, with the promise of pasta, that she'd taken him up on it. She could've done with a lot more pasta and a lot less bullshit right now.
Of course, that was easy for her to say. She wasn't in that room right now, used as a weapon and a tool for that slimy creature of a man to hunt down mutants. She wasn't the one begging, pleading for the sake of someone she cared about. She kept her finger on the button, though, silent as the grave and her face even stonier. She hated it. She hated hearing this, but she needed to. This was the job. Get intel, and this was intel.
"Please! Please, don't. I just didn't get enough the first time. Let me do it again. Just let me try it again!"
"You think I give a damn about your excuses!? We had a deal and you have the nerve to try and play coy with this information? I warned you Willis! I warned you what would happen if you tired to get around this…" The was the sound of a slap, but heavier, and a cry, desperate and pained...
"No! I'm not, I'm not, I swear I'm not! Please! Just let me do it one more time. One more time, and I'll get you what you need! Please!" The young man on the other end had a voice shaky with desperation, another "NO!" sounding like it had ripped itself out of his throat just after the smack sounded through the intercom. "Please! Please!"
Helona covered her mouth with her hand, the other still on the button. She closed her eyes, though still she listened. She was worried, for how badly things were about to turn for the pair in the room.
"I warned you when we first spoke… I am not a patient man." There was a click, the familiar sound of a gun, cocked and ready, "I am going to count to ten… Find her, or I remove one more obstacle in my path to a mutant free world. One… Two…"
The other man sobbed. "She's in a forest," he started, voice breaking. "Somewhere in the forest. Not far from where she was the last time. She...she was on a backroad, old road. Barely more than dirt. She was driving, headed north. Someone was in the car with her. She was talking to them. She didn't look at them, didn't say their name, but she was with someone."
"Must've gone back to the cottage. Take the chopper, Asher. Now! Go! If we have any chance of getting to her…"
"...Getting to who…?" Phaedra's voice interrupted, soft as a whisper, the girl standing in the doorframe, white as a sheet and wide-eyed…
Helona released the button as soon as she noticed Phaedra, eyes wide as well. "Phaedra," she greeted, "I didn't realize it was already…" She paused looking at the time. "Oh, you're early." Her mind was racing. There were about five different situations here that needed to be handled because of what had just happened here. Too much had happened. She needed to get down to the two mutants Kane had hostage, to give them a way out. She needed to organize said way out. She needed to contact Munroe, tell him what she could and that plans were changing. But right now, she had a situation with a young girl in her doorway, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it.
"...Getting… to who, Miss Locklear?" Phaedra answered again, her fingers curling into the straps of her backpack tightly enough that her knuckles turned bright white, "...What's going on?"
"Your father...has had an interesting day at work," Helona started slowly. "He is...currently looking for a woman that's given him a lot of trouble." Technically, that was true. She had, though the woman in question had Helona rooting for her every step of the way.
"...He's going to kill someone, isn't he?" Her eyes shifted to Helona, and her lip twitched a little, into a frown, "A mutant? He's going to kill one of them…"
Danger, danger, danger. Alarm bells were blaring in Helona's head. This was bad. This was very, very bad. She swallowed before speaking softly. "He's trying to." There wasn't a point in denying it, not really. How Kane had kept his daughter from the worst of it was a mystery to her, though it seemed that particular spell had been broken now.
Breathing out, Phaedra's knees gave a little, and she leaned against the door with a shudder, "Oh my God… Oh my…" Looking to the office door with watery eyes, she shook her head, "No. I… I can't let him do that! I gotta go in there and try to… to do something!"
"Don't." It wasn't a request or a suggestion. It was a command. "Don't go into that room. Whatever you have planned, whatever you are thinking about doing to stop him, don't." Helona was halfway in the process of standing, prepared fully to stop Phaedra if she had to. Of all the things she could do, she could try to spare this girl that particular bit.
"He… he's my dad. What's he gonna do, Miss Locklear?" But Phaedra didn't make any attempts to move again, and as a tear slid down her cheek, she brushed it away, "Who is it? The woman? What's her name??"
"...I don't know." She knew the general idea, but the details she'd rather not know. Helona knew Kane was going to hunt the woman down to the ends of the earth and everyone else involved with her and her brother. The details...were no doubt gruesome. "Her name is Grace."
"..God…" Sliding down the doorframe, still pale and shaking now, Phaedra curled her knees up to her chest, "...Oh my God… Miss Locklear…" Looking over at the woman, she sniffed, "...What is he?"
Helona carefully slid out from behind her desk. She crouched down beside Phaedra, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright," she said softly, and after an awkward moment, opened her arms for a hug if Phaedra wanted one. "He…" She trailed off, preferring not to answer. She knew what she would call him, but appearances and trying to protect kids ranked higher on the list than voicing exactly what she thought of Jeremiah Kane.
"How… how is this alright??" Looking up again, she shook her head, stubborning swiping at her tears with her sleeve, before with a shake of her head, she threw herself at the woman's opened arms, "He's a monster, Helona. And I hate him."
Helona pulled her close. She said nothing, knowing there was nothing she could really say. It wasn't okay. She agreed that her father was a monster. She hated the man she technically worked for too. So she just sat there in silence, gently rubbing Phaedra's back.
Phaedra sobbed for several minutes, quiet, desperate sobs, into the poor secretary's shoulder. Only when the shaking had stilled did she pulled away, and wiping her eyes, she shook her head, "I... Asher didn't pick me up. I had to come with someone new, today. Miss Locklear… would… do you think… could you just… call me a cab? I wanna go home. I don't wanna see him. Not today." Not ever…
Helona frowned, pursing her lips slightly. "I'll see what I can do," she said. "It might take them a little while. Are you alright with staying in here with me, until they get here?"
"Do… do we have to stay in here? Isn't there somewhere else…" But she knew Helona took her job seriously, and the last thing she wanted was to get the woman in trouble, "...Here is fine. You… you won't listen, anymore?"
"I won't listen anymore," Helona answered shaking her head. She glanced over at her desk. "If you don't want to stay in here, I'll walk with you. I just...have to tell him first." Him being Kane, who was in the other room that Phaedra didn't want to hear anything from. Yeah, that was a predicament.
"N-no… No, it's fine." Pushing herself to her feet, Phaedra started for the desk, and sinking into a chair, pulled her knees up to her chest, "What did she do? Grace? Did… did she at least do something? Hurt someone?"
Helona's brow furrowed. But what could she say? What could she do? For all that she had acknowledged that she'd been a drill sergeant to her son when he needed a mother, she still didn't know what to do to be that. Slowly, she made her way back to her desk, sinking into her chair again. "She...Her brother was part of an old organization called Rogue. It was...illegal and full of mutants trying to overthrow the established order." Again, technically true. "They're trying to find him through her."
Sniffling, Phae shook her head, "...Th-the people in there with him? That man… and the woman. The crying woman? The one he…" Swallowing, she rested her chin on her legs, "...They're part of this? All this stuff? This… mutant stuff? He gonna hurt them, too?"
Helona swallowed, biting her lip as she decided what to say and what not to say. "They got tied up in it. They're...they're how he's finding the mutants he wants," she explained. "And yes, if they don't comply." She left out the bit, how even if they did comply, eventually he would kill them both.
Biting her thumb nail, Phaedra gave a small jerk of her head, "...If they don't comply. Because he's just gonna let them walk out the door if they do." Looking up, she met the woman's eyes, "Why were you listening?" It wasn't an accusation… but a genuine question, shaky and uncertain.
She'd pegged it. Helona didn't argue, didn't even try to. The girl knew well enough that if something wasn't done, the two in there wouldn't make it out of this. God, she needed to get them out. As quickly as possible. She'd have to rifle through some of her stuff she'd tucked away. Something to give her an opening, something to make a distraction. She needed to get them out, yesterday. She sighed. "If I answer that, it will change how you look at me." She was stalling answering that dreaded question. How to answer that, without giving herself away?
"I can't possibly look at you… any worse than I'm looking at my own dad…" Her eyes raised, and shaking her head, she shrugged, "I just… I need to make sense of something. Of anything. I… I have to go home with him this weekend." Her voice cracked, as she lowered her gaze, "...Miss Locklear, please. I just… I need to know?"
Helona opened her mouth, trying to thread together some semblance of a lie that could potentially put Phaedra's mind at ease. She would've, too, if the phone hadn't rung and scattered her thoughts entirely. She fumbled for a moment before managing to pick up the phone. "Hello, this is Jeremiah Kane's office. How can I help you?"
It happened so quickly. The sharp trill of the phone bit through the silence in the office, and Phaedra gave a small squeak and jumped… and there… at the tips of her fingers came a shimmering light, translucent, like a glycerin bubble. It was there for just a second or two… Then gone.
Horror splashed across the girl's features and for a brief moment she sat frozen in place. Then without a word, Phaedra kicked her feet to the floor and rose, nearly running for the door.
Helona's eyes widened, surprise written in them plainly as the rest of her face remained under control. It felt a little like the pieces had started to click into place. The questions, the morbid curiosity about what her father was doing that seemed almost in spite of herself, and that reaction when she had first admitted she didn't hate mutants. She watched Phaedra in shock, even as she listened to the person on the other line of the phone, only for Phaedra to spring to her feet.
"Yes, of course. I'll tell him. Thank you and goodbye." She'd managed to understand enough of what had been said that she could pass on some semblance of a message onto Kane. As soon as she hung up the phone, however, she was on her feet. She rushed after Phaedra, hoping to catch her before she reached the door. "Phaedra," she called in the loudest whisper she could manage.
Freezing in her path, catching the doorframe, Phaedra stared hard at the elevator doors, maybe ten… fifteen feet down the hallway, blurred by tears as she shook her head, "...Please… please Miss Locklear. If… if you were listening for the reason I think you were. Please don't tell my dad…" Sniffing, she wiped at her eyes, and without another word, continued on her trajectory towards the lift.
Shit, shit, shit. It'll be fine, she'd thought. Quick and easy, and out before Kane had even known what hit him, she'd thought. This put an entirely different set of kinks in the plan. Still, Helona ran towards Phaedra, glad she'd happened to put on her knee brace this morning. She needed it, when she went into a full sprint to catch up, to beat Phaedra to the elevator doors. "I won't," she assured once she was closer, voice still in a whisper, even as she threw a worried look over her shoulder towards Kane's door. She would never dream of it.
As Helona appeared at her side, Phaedra jumped back, and shaking her head, swiped at her cheeks again, "...P-please. I just… I wanna go. I'll just… I just wanna go home. Just pretend you didn't see anything, okay? You… you didn't see anything! There's nothing to see…"
"It's okay. It's going to be okay," Helona assured, softly. As soon as she'd caught up, not giving Phaedra a clear shot to the elevator, she stopped moving quickly. She could imagine how panicked Phaedra was. Nick, Kora, the other kids she'd helped raise, they'd all been in a loving home that planned on nurturing their abilities, and they were still freaked out. In a home with a man like Kane? It couldn't have been pretty, what Phaedra was feeling.
"I won't tell," she said again, voice barely more than a whisper. "You haven't told him? You haven't told anyone or showed anyone else, right?" She cast another worried look towards Kane's door. Hallways were not private places. She needed to think. Where could she take Phaedra so that they couldn't be overheard? What could she do that wouldn't scare her right now? "Come on, let's get in the elevator. We can wait for your cab out there instead of my office."
"...I-it just started." She murmured softly, "A few months ago. N-no one knows." Stepping into the elevator, Phaedra knit her hands together, picking at the edge of her thumbnail, "He's gonna find out. I know him, Miss Locklear. He… this is what he does. He's gonna figure it out and then he's gonna…" Swallowing, she shook her head, "I'm dead."
A tiny bit of relief trickled in. She was the only one who knew. Helona was probably the best possible person to learn about this in Kane's facility. She couldn't help that sliver of relief that she'd learned first, even by accident. As for Kane himself… she wanted to hope, that despite all his other flaws as a human being, that he could still unconditionally love his daughter no matter what. That was a hope, though, not a fact, and it wasn't one she was willing to bank someone's life on. She needed a contingency for the possibility that Kane would look at Phaedra and wouldn't see his daughter anymore.
She stepped into the elevator, voice still low just in case. "No, you're not. You're not dead, and if I have any say in this, you won't be for quite a while." She sighed, dragging a hand over her face. This was a bad idea. A very risky, absolutely terrible idea. Here went nothing. "You want to know why I was listening in?"
Looking over at her, Phaedra seemed to consider the question for a moment, before slowly, she gave a nod. Despite her fears, despite the panic raging through her, that curiosity was still there, under the surface.. And anything was better than thinking about what was coming if her dad did get wind of … her condition.
Helona took a breath. "I'm helping someone," she started, "someone that's not your father. They...needed eyes and ears where they couldn't go, but I could." She worked her jaw before continuing. "Those kids in there? They don't deserve to be there, and neither do you."
Her eyes widening, Phaedra stared at Helona like she was an entirely new person, and for a moment, her mouth hung open in shock. When she did speak, it was in a whisper, "...You're a spy, aren't you?"
Helona gave a small shrug, head tilting to the side as if to say 'maybe'. "I can neither confirm nor deny," she said finally, a hint of a smile on her lips as she looked over at Phaedra. Then her expression sobered. "But you are not to breathe a word to anyone. Understand?"
"Who would I tell?" She asked, her voice quivering, "I'd have to explain why you told me in the first place… and I'm not gonna do that. No way. Besides… I… I'm kind of relieved. I'm not used to liking the people who work for my dad." Sniffing, she lowered her gaze slightly, "...What am I gonna do?"
"Fair enough," Helona admitted. It was a stalemate and mutually assured destruction as far as blackmail material went. "First question. Can you feasibly go back home to your mother, to buy time if nothing else?" she asked. She asked because Phaedra was right. Kane would find out, both about Phaedra's ability and her own work as a double agent. He'd especially find out about the double agent bit after the plan already forming in her mind took place. When he did, Helona planned to be long gone. She had to find a safety net for Phaedra as well.
"Mom's oblivious. To everything…Or at least… I always thought she was..." Her mind filtered back to all that had happened over the last few years… to the divorce, to leaving home. Maybe her mother wasn't so oblivious, after all, "It's safe at home. But this… this weekend… I'm at Dad's."
"So going home this weekend is out of the question, then," Helona translated. She ended up rubbing her hand down her face again. "How long do you think you could hold out at your dad's this weekend? Not saying anything until I can sort a few things out?" It was a terrible idea, thinking of dragging Phaedra along anywhere. But here she was, seriously considering it.
Nodding, Phae frowned softly, "He works there, sometimes. Usually when he's got me, or… or if Mom's on vacation with Paul." Rubbing the back of her neck, she looked back up at Helona, "You don't have to be nice to me, you know. I… I'm not gonna tell anyone. I meant it."
Helona nodded slowly. She could maybe work with that. "Do you know if you'd end up back here at any point?" She needed a time frame. How long did she have, after she pulled this little stunt, to get herself and Phaedra out of here without making too much of a mess? "I know you won't. Doesn't mean I can't try to help you," she answered, looking over at her with a furrowed brow.
"He brings me here on Monday's so that Ass-er can drive me home." Running her fingers through her hair, she shook her head softly, "I need you to tell me the truth, Miss Locklear. D-do you really think if he found out about all this… w-would he hurt me?"
Two days. Okay. She could work with that. Set up the final details, send off a quick message, do what needed to be done, and pack up. Helona could work with that. She pursed her lips at the question. "I hope not. I hope he's a better father than he is a person," she said after a moment, "but if he's not, I want to be ready for that."
"...He's not." Phae whispered, "He never has been. Work is all he's ever cared about. Work, and controlling everything in the world. He's gonna find out, Miss Locklear, and he's… he's gonna do to me whatever he's gonna do to that poor Grace woman…"
Helona frowned. "Phaedra...has he ever...hurt you or your mother? Not even just physically, just...excessively mean or controlling?" She turned to the teenager beside her, and gently placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "No, he's not. You want to know why? You happened to find the single best person in this building to accidentally show your abilities to. I'm going to make sure that he doesn't touch you, okay?"
"When hasn't he?" Phaedra laughed softly, rubbing her arm with an uncomfortable expression, "He's just… he's always been that way. Loud and cold and mean… It's probably why mom left. She tells me it was cause he worked too much and she felt like she was always the last thing he thought about, and she didn't wanna keep living that way, but the things he said to her? The way he'd always undermine her…" A brow rose as Helona went on, and her eyes filled with tears again, as she whimpered, before throwing her arms around the woman, "Thank you, Miss Locklear… Thank you."
Helona's frown deepened as Phaedra went on. It sounded about right, the undermining. She noticed it, too, since she'd arrived. The dismissiveness, the lack of real interaction with her despite being his assistant, the way he hung up on her again and again without waiting for a response. She'd grumbled about it under her breath more than once, but she'd found it irritating. She worked with him, and it may have even been toned down because of that. She couldn't imagine living with him, or being married to him.
She stumbled back in surprise before slowly hugging back. "You're welcome, kiddo. You're welcome," she said softly. "And you know you can call me Helona, right? Or Ms. Helona, if first names alone are weird."
"O-oh…" Blinking, Phaedra nodded, with a small, nervous laugh, "Thanks… I… I'll do that." Blinking, she stepped back, and rubbed her arm again, "It's gonna be okay, right, Miss… Helona?"
Helona gave her a reassuring smile. "Yes, it's going to be fine," she answered. "Now, do you still want the cab, or do you want to step out of the elevator?"
Shaking her head, she pressed the button to the lower floors, "...I just wanna go home. I… I don't wanna be around when all that… upstairs… goes down. Will you tell him I'm sick or something?"
Helona nodded. The doors had been closed since they'd both stepped inside, but now she felt it move, lurching towards a lower floor. "How sick do you want to feel? Just so I have details for what story I tell him," she asked.
"Oh… make it gross. Snot… nausea… He won't even call me if he thinks I've got anything he can catch. And tell him I've got my lady friend on top of it. There's nothing Dad hates worse than… Well, other than…" Her expression shifted, eyes falling, "You know."
"Leaky and queasy. Got it," Helona snorted before raising an eyebrow. "Your lady friend or your lady friend?" She placed emphasis on the last one, giving Phaedra an intrigued look. Her face fell just a little. "Yeah, I know."
"Yes… the emphasized one." Phaedra said, and a small, weary smile appeared, "He's so sensitive to any of that stuff. Throws off his OCD."
"Yet another reason to keep him far away from my son. The list keeps growing," Helona said, shaking her head. The elevator stopped and the doors opened. She pulled a cell phone from her pocket to call a cab for Phaedra.
"Wait…" Blinking, she looked up at Helona, eyes slightly wide, "...N-nick? He… he's not dead?"
"He'd better not be," Helona huffed, "or I'm going to have a very long conversation with someone else." That someone else being Munroe. "I wasn't lying when I said we were separated. We were, for about six years. The people that separated us weren't mutants; they were RIEF." She kept her voice low as she explained, wary of anyone or anything that could be listening it. "I lost him for six years, and like I told you before, I want to make sure that doesn't happen to anyone else again."
"Oh my God…" She exhaled, and for the second time, threw herself at the woman with a hug, "Oh my God! I'm so glad! I felt so horrible for you, and I… OH, Miss Lock--Helona! I'm so glad. I mean… not that you were separated. That part sucks… but that he's alive? That's.. Wow. You REALLY had me going…"
The woman chuckled. "I'd hope so. I'm glad I'm convincing. Little note of reference for good lies. Double meanings and half truths. Just in case you need that until Monday," she offered, gently returning the hug once again.
"Ugh… Don't remind me." Frowning, she shook her head, "I'm just gonna pretend I'm pissed at him and lock myself in my room until David comes to pick me up. Shouldn't be too hard…" She mused, with a small grin, "I uh… I kinda did something that's gonna set him off like a firework…"
"Oh no. What did you do?" Helona asked, looking over at her with a very concerned face. She looked up a number for a cab, dialing the number, though she didn't hit call just yet.
Grinning wider, Phaedra rolled up the sleeve of her sweatshirt to reveal a very new and slightly raw tattoo on her inner forearm, "He's gonna flip out… I'm so ready to pitch the biggest fit ever and never leave my room."
"Oh, my God," Helona said slowly, shaking her head. "How did you…? No, no, I'm not asking that. I can guess, and that's enough." She drug a hand down her face. "You're going to give him a heart attack," she said softly, though she didn't sound entirely opposed to the idea. It'd save everyone a lot of trouble. She then made a face. "...You better roll down that sleeve. You're supposed to keep them covered when you first get them. Plus, it'll make a fantastic surprise when he does see it." She looked like she was fighting a laugh.
"Hey… if I did that, we'd both have less to worry about, right?" She said, with a small, saucy smirk, "Sadly, I don't think we'll get that lucky. But hey, he can't complain, too much. He told me no more piercings… I listened."
Shrugging, she rolled her sleeve down again, lips splitting into a grin, "You're probably the coolest mom in the world, you know that, Helona?"
Helona snorted violently, hiding a laugh before her hand. "Yeah, you listened. It's not a piercing," she admitted with a shrug. She could certainly give her that. She looked over at Phaedra with a wicked sort of smile. "You're only saying that because I don't have baby pictures of you or know who your childhood crushes were." Nick would definitely have something to say about that and how apparently cool she was.
"Ha! I wasn't allowed to have a childhood, remember? Too messy. I'd trade houses anytime… Honestly." Giving a small shrug of her shoulders, she lowered her gaze again, "Anyway… I should probably go. He's gonna want you at your desk, and it might be weird if you're gone too long."
Something unreadable passed over Helona's face, a mixture of emotions. Nick had only gotten so much of a childhood himself, and she was never truly going to forgive herself for that. As for Phaedra specifically… She shook her head. "Probably. Let me at least call the cab for you," she said. "You okay with waiting out here on your own?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I don't have to ride with any of Dad's BFFs, so it'll be a joy, actually." Chuckling she shuffled her backpack to her other shoulder, "Hey… Helona? Y-you be careful, okay? Dad's nobody to mess with…"
"I'll bet," Helona answered. She gave Phaedra one last smile, resting a hand on her shoulder. "So I've heard. Take care of yourself, kiddo," she said, before turning to call a cab. Once she was done, she gave Phaedra one last wave before heading inside.
Two days to make things work. Two days to do what needed to be done. She had plans to make, and a shopping list: laxatives and the parts of a pipe bomb.[/i][/i]
After hours of driving through the night, the vehicle finally came to a stop in a field of rolling hills. Climbing out, Deckard waited for the kids, Finn, and Penny to exit before he jerked his head towards the hill before them. At the base of the hill was a concrete arch graffitied and sunken into the hill.
"It's in there," Deck said as he pointed and started walking.
Travis' head swiveled around still shaken up by the action two nights before. The looming arch didn't seem to calm him, "We're going in there?" he asked.
"It's the safest place for us at the moment. This place has been abandoned since the nineteen sixties. They won't think to look for us here. Once we get inside, we can move the vehicle in. No one will be the wiser that we're here."
Nodding, Travis took in the sight as he followed his father through the arch. The place was decrepit and in no condition for anyone to hide out in safely. Graffiti sprawled across every surface and a massive steel door separated them from the supposed safety that his father suggested was within, "Mom, is this really where we're gonna hide out? If the outside looks like this, I can't imagine what the inside must look like."
"This is it, Trav." Penny answered, eyeing the barely noticeable entrance with a small, uneasy frown.
"Think of it like the batcave…" Rose noted, her fingers sliding into Finn's as nervous energy rippled through them, "Only a lot more…"
"Horrifying?" Zoey asked, a brow raised.
"I was going to say rustic… but, yeah maybe a little scary…"
In the past four years, Finn had slept in many an abandoned, spooky place. Hell, this to him wasn't that bad. He was with his family, and that was more than he had ever had in the previous years. Squeezing Rose's hand back, trying to reassure her to the best of his ability, he slapped on a smile. "It'll be fun. We'll, uh, we'll play some games. Good for hide and seek. It'll be like our secret hideout, yeah?"
"Not sure hide and seek's a good game to play until we make sure the floor doesn't fall out beneath us," Deckard interjected, "Last thing we need is someone falling to their death."
Travis swallowed hard, "I don't want to fall to my death," he said as he took a step back away from the door.
"We won't let you," Deck returned. Stepping up to the door, he used his power to break the lock securing the door shut. With a grunt, he strained against bar until the rust broke and it finally opened. With a loud screech, the door slowly opened revealing the guts of the facility in about as bad a shape as Deckard expected, "Shit," he breathed, brushing his hands off against his jeans, "Watch your step and try not to cut yourself on anything. Until Doc arrives, if she hears the message in the first place, we won't have any tetanus boosters...or really any medical supplies beyond what's already in the car."
"Hey, Deck, babe?" Penny started with a small smirk, "Maybe let's stop mentioning every possible way we can die horribly, until we've gone through the doors? Not exactly encouraging the whole 'survival' vibe…"
Rose chuckled lightly, "And you shouldn't worry too much… I do know a thing or two about healing…"
Eyes narrowed as he scanned the place, Finn offered Rose a small smile. "That she does." He echoed softly. Doc? Wow… the woman would be sure to yell at him too. He couldn't wait. Finn looked down to Travis, the tentative step he took away. Pulling his hand from Rose, he turned to the young boy, crouching down to meet his eye level. "Hey, how about a piggyback ride? You'll have the best view of the whole place. You'll be the one to make sure none of us gets into any sticky trouble. Captain, if you will. Interested?"
Travis seemed to entertain the thought for a moment before he cleared his throat, stuck his chin up and took a confident step forward, "Uncle Finn, I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm ten, and I'm not scared!"
Deck smirked as he looked back over his shoulder to see his son's sudden burst of confidence, "Alright, Mr. Tough Guy, why don't you come up here and help me out. Could use someone to hold the flashlight while I clear out any debris. If I recall correctly, the main hub of the station is just down this main hall and a couple flight of stairs," looking at Penny, he nodded, "Shouldn't be too difficult...or dangerous."
Taking his place beside his dad, Travis took the flashlight his dad produced from his pocket and looked back, "Okay, you all stay close, and try to take the same steps I do. I'll make sure you stay safe."
Deckard watched as his son looked up to him. With a smile he placed his hand on Travis' shoulder noting the tremor in the boy, "One step at a time. Right, Travis?"
"Right," Travis replied.
As Travis and Deck started forward, Zoey slid up beside Finn and cautiously, reached for his hand, "...S...since Travis doesn't need it."
A brow rose as Penny watched the display before smiling faintly and trailing after her husband, "You'll be our first line of defense, Trav… It's dark in here, so keep your mind open and let us know if you sense anything, alright?"
Pouting slightly at the response, Finn straightened, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, I get it. Too big and strong for a piggyback ride. Shame, you'll miss 'em when you're too tall to get 'em." He said with a smirk, stepping back and watching Travis take the spot beside his dad. Made sense. He should've let it happen. However, an inkling of surprise caught him as Zoey's hand found his. Finn quickly smiled at her, nodding in understanding. He squeezed her small hand tightly, finding comfort in how she had chosen to find comfort in him, and pressed forward.
He kept his ears peeled for anything suspicious. The wind was… stale, in here, if that was a word you could use to describe it. It felt pretty untouched, and the whole place seemed to threaten an inhabitant other than humans… namely… rats. Finn wasn't so thrilled about that, but he focused more so on the people surrounding him, brows tight with concentration, intent on making sure nothing jumped out at them.
Nodding in response to his mom, Travis opened his mind by removing the blocks. All at once, the voices flooded into his mind causing Travis to waver a moment. It had been a long time since he'd allowed his mind to be this open.
"You alright, son?" Deckard asked as he flashed a concerned look toward Penny.
Swallowing hard, Travis found the anchor voice that seemed to always help him get grounded. A smirk crossed his lips as Zoey's very analytical mind danced circles around any of his reasoning. With another nod he looked to his dad and took the first few steps deeper into the hallway.
"This place is huge," Travis stated, turning when he heard something skitter across the pipes, "Can't read it. Must be a rat or something."
"Ya. When we were looking for secondary places, we wanted something big enough to house additional mutants and old enough to have been forgotten. This place fit both requirements," Deckard replied, "the main hub is large enough to fit the old Rogue HQ in it twice."
The hallway emptied into a large empty room. Each wall had at least two other doors leading into hallways that went deeper into the facility.
Deckard spread out his arms and spoke, "Welcome to the main hub. At one point, this was a command center, and it'll be one again. Too bad Luna isn't around to help us figure out what we need to bring this place up to date. From here, we'll be able to reorganize and maybe even take the fight back out there. Tired of running."
At Travis' words a shudder ran through Finn's spine. Damnit. He was keeping his cool, for christ's sake. He was keeping his cool! "Fuck me." He whispered, just the tiniest utterance under his breath. He squeezed Zoey's hand just a little bit tighter, keeping his eyes off the ground and towards the people surrounding him.
The hub. Heh. This really felt like old times. The mention of Luna had guilt bubbling up in his stomach, but he pushed it down with a harsh bite on the lip. He'd get to her soon… now, he couldn't be distracted. He couldn't be, because he'd get lost down the spiral of guilt too quickly.
"It needs a makeover… but I think it'll do." Finn held a shaky smile, taking the place in. Rogue V2. It could work. It was working. It was happening.
"It'll do," Deckard echoed, "We could put the screens there," he pointed toward the massive front wall, "Desks and such can go here," he motioned from one end of the room to the other across the open floor, "Everything will come togeth-"
A crash sounded, like a tool falling between the metal grates of the hallway floor. Immediately, Travis turned in that direction suppressing his own fear rising and the flood of thoughts that entered his head from his family. Coming from deep in the east hallway he could hear the fearful thoughts of a woman or a young girl, "Someone's over there," he pointed toward the door, "and she's scared, Dad."
Looking to Penny, Deck jerked his head toward the hall, "Whos coming with me? You or Rose?" he asked, "I don't really scream friendly."
"The crash course Luna gave me should hold, here… and I managed to grab a lot of my gear when we left, so set up shouldn't take too much time." Penny noted, before a crash interrupted. Turning towards the source, her lips fell in a frown as Travis explained the circumstances, "...Might wanna take Rose, if they're hurt."
Finn flinched at the crash, instinctively moving in front of Zo though his hand stayed tightly around hers. Someone, female, scared. Hell. He was scared too. Gnashing his teeth together, he looked to Rose, a little worried about her going to see someone trespassing in the area… but it was with Deck. Did it sting a little that Deck hadn't even considered him as a companion? Maybe.
"... Be careful. Me and Penny will watch the kids…?" He said lowly, turning his head towards Penny to catch her approval. Hopefully, whoever they were, they were friendly...
"Was already counting on that, Finn. Needed a heavy hitter to stay back just in case," Deck turned to Travis and continued, "Keep your mind open, son. Warn Finn if things get hairy," after Travis nodded, Deck continued, "Alright, Rose. Let's go."
Nodding, Rose turned briefly to Finn, giving his free hand a gentle squeeze, "Be safe, okay?" Then turning, she followed after Deck.
A small blush came across Finn's cheeks. "Ah. Right. Of course." He nodded, watching the two turn away. "You too…"
Deckard lead Rose down the hall cautiously. The metal grates beneath their feet grumbled under weight not normally carried. Deckard was almost ready to turn back when movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Tucked in a hole in the wall was a young girl covered by shadow, "Rose," he nodded toward the girl, "she's over there."
Blinking into the darkness, Rose gave a small nod and slowly, cautiously, approached the poor creature, tucked back into the crevice, "...It's okay. We're not gonna hurt you. My name is Rose, and this is Deck… We didn't know anyone else was down here. Are you okay? Do you need help?"
Penny, meanwhile, shifted closer to Travis, a hand resting on the boy's shoulder as she looked back at Finn, "...It's not much, but Rose isn't half wrong about the Batcave vibe…"
Finn sighed softly, redness still touching his skin. "You have a point. I did always want to drive the batmobile." He grinned cheekily. "So… I'm the heavier hitter, eh?"
Rolling her eyes back to him with a chuckle, Penny shrugged, "That's what Deck said, yeah. I'm tryin' real hard not to be offended." She teased, giving Travis's shoulder a squeeze, "Hear anything new, Peanut?"
Travis' face soften, "She's really scared, Mom. I can hear her, and Dad and Aunt Rose are scaring her more," he paused, "Something's not right. You should tell them to-"
The little girl looked up at Rose with fear in her eyes as she pressed herself against the wall. Backed into the corner with nowhere else to run, she let out a blood curdling scream.
Deckard pulled back unprepared for the scream, "Woe, woe, woe," he spoke, "We aren't here to hurt you!"
His brow narrowed as a faint crash sounded through the halls. It was quiet, barely audible, but just enough to grab Deckard's attention. There was another, and the floor shook slightly. Then another. Deckard's eyes shifted toward Rose as the floor shook in rhythm. With each crash the very compound groaned in agony.
"Rose," he started just as the little girl darted out while they were distracted, disappearing down another hall, "I think we should head back," he said calmly.
Then it happened.
The wall at the end of the hall stood no chance. Where metal and stone once stood, there was nothing. Sharp metal and chunks of stone were sent flying through the air crashing to the floor around Deck and Rose. Amongst the dust that was settling, Deckard could finally see the source of the rhythm. Charging toward them without disregard for any obstacles was a massive form. He was taller than Deckard and more massive than Deckard could ever bulk up to be. That wasn't the most shocking feature, though. Where skin should have been looked to be rock or something equally as dense. Each step the man took sent shockwaves through the floor. He was huge and running straight for them.
Deckard quickly reach out and grabbed Rose by the arm. Pulling her behind him, he pushed her toward the room where everyone else was waiting, "Run, Rose. Run!"
Rose had opened her mouth to say something… to comfort the poor frightened child… when with a resounding crack, a nearby wall utterly splintered and a monstrosity poured into the chamber with them. With a cry of shock, Rose backed up, only to find herself yanked away further by Deck.
She didn't hesitate… Didn't pause. There was no way on God's good earth she could do anything to help him. Instead, racing back the direction they had come, she rounded the corner to the entryway, "Finn! Penny! Deck's in trouble!!"
Finn could feel that something was wrong. He'd wanted to believe this place was safe; he'd wanted to believe he was safe with Deck and Penny and Rose. But they never were… he'd never be. All he could do was try to protect them when everything went wrong, because it always would.
Travis mumbled worriedly. Something's not right. Something's not right. "Mom… we need to get o-"
Too late. Always too late. The place began to quake. Finn looked around worriedly, keeping his protective position over Zoey and moving them both closer towards Penny and Travis. Shit. Something was happening, someone was here… something big. He could feel it in the air, coming towards them, and he could practically feel the old place shivering on its haunches.
As Rose rushed into view, shouting for help. Finn turned to Penny. "Take the kids and Rose and get out of here.. M-me and Deck got this." Haha! Got what, exactly!? He wasn't sure, but his feet were already carrying him in the direction Rose had run away from. "Heavy hitters!" He shouted as he ran off.
Oh, holy shit. It was fucking Juggernaut. He never thought he'd see someone bigger than Deck or Devon … but this guy was like the both of them put together. Uh.. uh… rock man. Not very easy to push over with a gust of wind. "What the hell's going on - where did this guy come from?!" Finn shouted, sending a harsh, precise gust of air at the giant's right leg, hoping to knock him off balance.
Deckard watched as the wind blast didn't even faze the man. Stomp by stomp he kept coming. Stepping in front of Finn, Deck raised a hand and attempted to stop the man. He could feel the moment the monster of a man crashed against his wall...and ran right through it. Then he felt as the man crashed into him. The pain wracked his body as he felt his feet leave the ground.
Horror gripped Finn as Deck went flying, the unrelenting man of steel allowing nothing to stop him from plowing down those in his path. Instinctively he reached out, a gust of air pillowing itself beneath Deck and catching him just in time. Not enough to stop the fall from hurting, but enough to soften it considerably. The moment Deck landed Finn ran to him, panic tugging at his features. "Deck!"
Despite the lessened impact of his fall, Deckard still felt as though he'd been hit by a truck. Every bone in his body screamed, and he could feel the bruises already forming.
Travis' eyes doubled in size when he saw his dad get thrown down the hall. Deckard's thoughts were jumbled and confused. None of them made any sense, "Dad!" he called out as Travis started toward him.
"Travis!" Penny's arm shot out to grab his arm as he bolted, and tugging him back, she shook her head, "You have to stay here! You hear me? You stay right here!" Looking to Rose, eyes imploring, Penny took a deep breath, "...Do not let them go." And before the words had left her mouth, Rose was already taking Zoey's hand and reaching for Travis.
As soon as both children were secured, Penny was off, racing towards Deck. Skidding beside him, her hands hovering briefly, uneasily, she shook her head, "What the hell is that thing…?"
Looking over to Travis, eyes boulders of fear, Zoey's grip on Rose's hand tightened to nearly bruising, "...Boogeymen…"
Finn tentatively slipped an arm under Deck, trying to prop him up and assess the damage as Penny came skidding close. "I-I don't know - he doesn't s-stop for anything!" He looked behind them, watching rockman edge closer. "P-Penny - I have a fucking risky idea, but it's something. We need to lure goddamn Cinderblock outside… if that isn't where he's g-going already… Deck, a-are you living? I need your help."
Deck groaned as he nodded, "Shit...that hurt," he peered passed the group at the man standing at the end of the hall. The man's eyes were fixed on the trio and already he was starting to move again, "Whatever you want to do, Finn, we need to do it quickly. He's running again!" Deck urged as he was hurrying to his feet.
Spinning suddenly, nearly wrenching Rose's shoulder out of its socket, Zoey turned towards Travis, "It's them, Travis! We have to warn Deck and Finn!"
Inhaling shakily, Finn nodded. Okay, okay okay okay… This is the classic superhero move. Try something new and powerful in the moment when you need it most. When everything is riding on it. Standing up with clenched fists, Finn jumped into the air, allowing it to solidify beneath his feet in a way that seemed like he was walking on nothing.
"Hey! Brickhead!" Finn shouted, goading the mountain of a man forward, staying close but not close enough to be hit, luring him ahead.
Travis nodded toward Zoey, "Aunt Rose," he spoke to her, fear and determination in his eyes, "You have to let us help! Dad, Mom, and Uncle Finn don't know what they're up against!"
The Boogeyman took the bait turning his attention toward Finn. Now in a full sprint, the man barreled toward him swinging wildly to bat the fly.
"Finn!" Deck called out, "Don't let him hit you...hurts like hell!"
"What?? No!" Rose protested, shaking her head, "You're not going anywhere near-- Hey!" As she spoke, Zoey twisted, swinging beneath Rose's arm like an improv ballroom dancer. As her wrist contorted backwards, Rose was forced to let go and in that moment, Zoey took off running.
Well. Nevermind the big fancy superhero move. He could hear voices behind him, Deck, Zoey… Zoey? Fuck! He couldn't bring the gargantuan outside, he'd risk them being plowed through. And what if it wasn't even enough then? How the hell was this guy gonna stop!
Swerving through the air and around the Juggernaut, Finn managed to land on his back. Clinging on like hell, because he did not want to think about how bad it would hurt to be flung off this wild horse… Finn began to bend the air around the Juggernaut's face, pulling it away from him as quickly as possible, constraining the air within his lungs and taking it away.
Stone-like fingers clawed at the air around his throat as the Boogeyman kept running. When it was clear his efforts would not save him, he turned toward the closest wall, his pace picking up. As he drew near the wall, the Boogeyman jumped and spun placing Finn between him and the wall. He'd smash this fly if it was the last thing he did.
Finn didn't see it coming until it was too late. There was too much effort involved in purely trying to stay on and drain the man's air supply that by the time Mr. Boogeyman spun around Finn couldn't let go fast enough. He tugged on his lungs until the last second, a spike of power gracing him just as impact was made, tugging painfully on the air supply before he lost his own, a muted scream fall out of him as he made contact with the wall and slid to the ground, every part of him protesting getting back up. There goes the stitches…
"Finn!" As the rock-monstrosity barreled Finn into the wall, the cry issued from Zoey, fear entangled in the young girl's voice, threaded in a way she had never before indicated.
Turning back, eyes snapping to Travis, she breathed in deeply, "Travis! Anchor!"
It all flooded back into his mind with those two little words. Five years of torture, mistreatment and conditioning, of questions without answers, and Travis hated them all. Shaking his head, he stood close to Rose, "I-I don't want to do it, Zoey," he muttered, "Helping Dad and Uncle Finn get away is one thing, but I-I don't want to do that."
"We have to, Travis!!" Zoey continued, almost desperately, "Or it will kill them! Travis… please. Anchor!"
His eyes bounced between Rose and Zoey as he thought. Then his eyes turned to the monster that had thrown his dad, his mom at his father's side, and Uncle Finn crumbled on the floor by the wall. Nodding, he stepped up, his eyes settling on the Boogeyman, "J-just like they taught us," he said.
Swallowing back the fear, Travis pressed his index and middle fingers against his temple and squinted as he focused on the Boogeyman who had just turned to face Deckard and Penny. Heavy footsteps began to resound through the halls as it took off toward his parents. Four or five steps into his strides, Travis stopped counting, the Boogeyman fell to his knees skidding across the floor. A horrible cry wrenched from his throat as he scratched at his head. Down, but not out.
As his knees touched the earth, Zoey bolted for the creature, and stopping just before him, struck out with two fingers, driving for a small space just below the monster's left ear. Her other hand followed, this to a space where his clavicle would've been.
"Stop! Stop!" A screech resounded from the shadows, where the young girl had been hiding, 'Stop please! Don't hurt him!""
Everything after that was a bit of a blur. Straining himself up, vision dizzy, Finn could see the two kids run out. He tried desperately to scream for them to get away, lifting a mangled hand, but… seemed they were the ones actually swaying the fight. Then, the scream behind him resounded. Whatever this situation was, it was a big mess, but the giant had been brought down, and he didn't seem like much of a danger anymore.
Finn caught eyes with Zoey, unable to say it verbally, but hopefully able to convey the message. Enough.
Zoey's eyes, however, remained focused on the behemoth, laser focused, her fingers curling into fists, tiny… tight… dangerous. Whatever Finn had hoped, she hadn't caught on and the only thing behind her gaze was a burning fury.
Finn wouldn't let her. Wouldn't let an innocent soul so young do anything like he'd done. Gathering all that was left of his might, Finn shouted. "ZOEY!" His mouth gurgled with blood, the taste horrifyingly familiar. Things were broken and his wound was definitely reopened. "STOP!" That was all he cared about.
Zoey wasn't stopping. Why wasn't she stopping? Even with Uncle Finn yelling at her, she wasn't stopping! Travis' gaze turned to his friend, and he peered into her mind, Zoey! He spoke, Zoey, stop! It's over!
Like a jolt, Finn's words hit… then Travis's, and stepping back, Zoey stared, wide-eyed, not at the rock-fiend, but at her own hands, releasing the fists into a quivering mess. These were the enemy… They were taught that in training. This was their job. But that…
That was their old lives. They were free from that, and she had almost forgotten. Almost…
Breathing out a shaky breath, Zoey looked to Finn, "Rose!"
But the woman had already started forward, dropping down beside Finn, and before he could protest, before the words could leave his lips, she had reached out, hands against his chest, a warmth flowing into him, through him… Fighting a grimace, one hand raised to his cheek, "Gonna be alright, now…"
"What the hell is going on? Why did you attack us?? And what is that thing?" Penny interjected, as she rose to her feet beside Deckard, eyes narrowing on the girl, still half absorbed in shadow, "...Start talkin'..."
"...That thing is named Bobby. And he's just protecting our home." Stepping a little further into the light, the girl revealed features contorted, twisted and disturbing - her face resembling an odd mingling of human and rodent. Curling her hands into knots, she narrowed her eyes, "He's doing his job."
"...You… you are…" Looking up, Zoey shook her head, "...You are Boogeymen. But… but how? How are you here…?"
"Boogeymen? Never liked that name," Bobby groaned, his head swimming and his eyes bouncing between the children, "Seems we came from the same place."
Deckard painfully moved beside Travis, his hand resting on his son's shoulder, "You still have him, Son?"
Travis nodded, "I can also tell you he's telling the truth. He's from that place."
There were no protests from Finn this time. He was limp in her arms, melting into her hold. The pain went away quickly, thanks to her, and he managed to pull himself up after her warmth had done its work. "Thank you," He whispered, aching just because he knew that would hurt her awfully later. Once he was fully on his feet again, Finn took a moment to revel in the fact that he'd been entirely healed - the bullet wound on his stomach, gone, every broken bone he was sure he'd felt… His eyes shone with gratitude.
He turned his attention to the people at hand. The juggernaut who suddenly seemed much more human, and a little girl… a shiver ran down his spine. Oh, no. Really? Really? She had to look like…
Swallowing down his fears, Finn stepped forward. "We didn't know anyone lived here," He said, brow pinched, "But we came in peacefully. We didn't want a fight. Why did you attack us?"
"Because the last people who claimed they were here to help us killed three of our friends..." The little girl retorted, eyes narrowing slightly as she moved closer to the juggernaut, "And they can attest to our treatment before then." She hissed, gesturing to Zoey and Travis, "They're the reason there's so few of us left, anyway."
Travis' eyes avoided the little girl, "I-I didn't want to," he murmured.
"You didn't want to what?" Deckard turned to his son.
Looking at his dad, tears threatened to fall from his eyes, "Really...I promise. They made me do it…" he looked to Zoey, "Made us do it."
"...They're aberrations…" Zoey added, eyes narrowing to slits, "Divergents from the normal genetic structure. And it is not as if you did not fight back. We were children, and you terrified us." Eyes opening wide again, Zoey shook her head, "...But that is not who we are, anymore. It is not, Travis."
He could tell something was horribly wrong with this situation. Twisted. Just from the pain in their voices, all of their voices. "...They were children, being manipulated. You can't blame them for what happened to you… it's not their fault. They didn't want to do that to you. And now… all we want to do is help. Rewrite what's been done to you." He said softly, forcing himself to look the young girl in the eyes, despite how rodent and beady like they were. "My… my name is Finn. And the people who hurt you hurt all of us. You can't let them do it anymore."
Travis looked at Zoey and nodded slowly, the past obviously haunting him in the moment, "Ya…"
"We've all had to do things we didn't want to," Deckard spoke gently to his son, "But we aren't monsters. We don't have to be," he looked toward Bobby.
With a humph the hulk of a man struggled to his feet, "What do you want with our home?"
"We need a safe place to lay low…" Penny answered, moving closer to Deck and Travis, "We're being hunted… and we need to rally our people. We didn't think anyone else would be down here."
"We had no where else to go…" the rat-girl muttered, "Nobody wants us out there…"
"We want you in here. With us. And all we're trying to do is change the world out there, so that they want you too." Finn insisted, eyes soft. "Please, let us help."
"We have no reason to trust you," Bobby stated, "No reason to trust anyone."
"You're going to have to trust someone eventually. Times aren't getting any better for us out there. They're hunting all of us down like dogs. It doesn't matter what you look like. If you're different, you're dead. If we don't unite, then we might as well lie down for them," Deckard argued.
"It was false promises that put us in this predicament in the first place," Bobby returned, "We don't need anyone else."
"That mentality is what almost got me killed… Finn here, too. Hell… all of us to some degree or another thought we were better off solo and almost died cause of it. What're you gonna do if Hull's people find you? Or worse? You just gonna keep sending the Thing here after them? Eventually, they'll find a way to beat you down…"
Looking to Bobby, the girl with the rat face frowned, "...Couldn't hurt takin' them to the boss… Worst thing… he deals with them, instead."
"W-woah, woah," Finn said, a small bit of panic creeping over him. "Uh… b… boss? I-it's best if we… er… avoid as many people as possible. I'm … kind of…" Best not to say. "We - we can settle this ourselves, right?"
Shaking his head, Deckard said, "No, I think she's right. Take us to your boss. Let us plead our case to him. Not like we've got any other options."
"No good options, anyway…" Penny noted, her eyes briefly flickering towards Zoey and Travis.
"...Then let's go…" The girl nodded, moving over to Bobby, her hand extending towards him, "Stick close. Your kind isn't exactly… welcome… down here."
Ah, great. Fantastic. More people. More danger. Meeting the boss. Please, don't let there be any more rat people…
"Our kind?" Finn said, color drained from his face. "Aren't we the same kind?"
"Do we look like we're the same kind?" Bobby replied.
"W-we don't know what it's like to be judged by more than just our abilities. They are ostracized, driven away, or murdered because they are not only mutants, but they look different than us," Travis spoke.
"Took the words right out of my head," Bobby said.
"At least people aren't afraid to look at you." The girl continued, frowning, as she cast a glance at Finn, "You can't tell me I don't make you uncomfortable. I saw it… the minute I stepped out of the shadows. And me? I got off lucky…"
"... Oh." Finn said softly, rubbing the back of his head. He understood now. "It's not against you personally, honest. Me, and.. er… rodents… we don't get along so well." He mumbled. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with that, but… all I can tell you is that it doesn't bother me… if that's worth anything. Rodents aside."
Bobby glanced over his shoulder toward Finn as they walked through the halls, "No one asked for your sympathy. Shoulda never came here."
"That's the problem though, isn't it, Bobby? That's what they think's fair treatment. Pity." With a scoff, she shook her head, "Nobody ever has to tell them their faces don't bother them…" With a shrug, she looked forward again, down the narrow tunnel, at the end of which was a metal door, "...Better stow all that in front of the boss. He's not a fan."
Reaching out, Rose looped her fingers around Finn's wrist, frowning softly as she shook her head. Penny, meanwhile, huffed a dry laugh.
"...Won't get sympathy from me. You wanna sulk cause you weren't born pretty, that's on you. I couldn't give half a damn what you look like, so long as you understand you come at my kids or my family again, it's not gonna end well for you."
Finn, admittedly, was a little surprised by the bitterness radiating off the two. For a duo that had just crushed him and Deck within an inch of their lives, suddenly Finn found that he was being made to be the guilty party. Seriously, he was on his eighth life at this point. Maybe ninth. He didn't have room for pity.
Shaking his head as well, squeezing Rose's hand, he followed them into the dark. "Can't really stow away something I don't have." He grumbled.
"Whatever," Bobby replied.
"How much further?" Deckard asked.
The hall ended at a door and when it swung open, Deckard slowed as he took in the sight inside. The room wasn't large by anyone's standards. Still, the floor was lined with sleeping backs all along the walls. People, all varying in disfigurement huddled in them or walked about in what little space was left. Naturally, they all froze when 'normal' people stepped in. At the far end walked a man who paused every so often to lower himself to the others and speak with them. When he looked up, the light revealed a face that reminded Deckard of the Elephant Man.
Travis gasped.
The deformity was… beyond any other in the room - a twisted gargoyle of a man. A singular eye stared at the Hallows, Rose and Finn, watery and grotesquely bloodshot, the other covered by a thick scab-like crust. Jaw tightening, he looked to the rat-faced girl and the rock-golem, expectantly.
"...They got through the door…" The rat girl murmured, gesturing towards them, "...The kids… they're from the Nursery. The rest are Normies."
Finn gritted his teeth, trying hard not to allow any surprise to filter into his features. Monsters. They looked like monsters, and Finn hadn't even known that mutants like this existed. But they did, and they were all called monsters at one point or another. He raised his gaze to catch that of the gargoyle man's, showing respect. Willingness to comply, and to look him in the eye.
"We didn't know anyone lived here. We were looking for a safe place to reconvene."
"Then you've come to the wrong place," the man stood up, and started the short walk to the group, "You'll find no refuge here," he sized up each person, his eyes lingering on the children.
Deckard instinctively placed his hands on their shoulders and pulled them closer to him as he stared at the man, "There's nowhere else for us to go."
"I don't care," the man replied, "You can't stay here."
"...You were held by Kaiden Hull, right…?" Releasing Finn's hand, Rose stepped forward, cautiously, her eyes unmoving from the uncomfortably misshapen man, "At the nursery? Against your will…?"
Reluctantly, he nodded and then gestured to everyone else in the room, "As were they," pointing at the children, he continued, "Could have just asked them."
"...Then maybe it'll interest you to know that Kaiden Hull is dead…?" Rose continued, straightening up slightly.
Finn cringed at the name, and what came afterwards. "Rose… I-I don't know if this is a good idea." He murmured.
"Dead? How can you be so certain?" the man returned.
"...Because Finn is the one who put him down." She continued, breathing in deeply, steadying… "So if you have no other reason to help us, consider that.You're free of that monster… thanks to this man."
The Elephant Man turned to Finn, his eyes judging the man, "You killed Kaiden? How?"
Squirming uncomfortably, Finn's jaw tightened. "... Waited until his rally. Taught myself how to curve a bullet and make it go exactly where I want it to go."
"You...shot him?" the man returned. He studied Finn for a moment and then turned to the others, "What are your stories? Why should we let you stay? How can we trust you?"
"Because right now, the world is a mess, and our kind… Mutants? We're not exactly top of the food chain." A sigh escaped, as Penny took a step forward, "If we start fighting amongst each other, too? We're gonna give people like Hull exactly what he wants. A war. And despite what you say… I don't think that's what you want. I come from an organization… from Rogue, and we existed to protect people like us. If we had known… what Hull was doing to you? We would've helped. We should've helped. We didn't then, but we can, now. Rogue died, when Hull murdered his brother… but it shouldn't have. We gave up on it, and that was a mistake, too. One… with your help… we can rectify, the right way. So that everyone has a fair shot in this world."
"...All you're doing by treating us like a different kind is letting him win, even from the grave. I did what I did so that he would stop tearing us apart from each other, and you're doing it willingly." Finn said firmly, gaze low. "We are all mutants. All of us deserve to fight for our own chance to live, together. Don't overlook that."
Deckard watched the others speak and added his own two cents, "We've all lost something to Hull..to the fear that wrecks the world. Doesn't mean we gotta keep losing stuff."
A sigh escaped the man's deformed lips, "You can stay," he said after a moment of thought, "but for the sake of the others, the children cannot come here..not until everyone else is convinced that their lives aren't in danger. Keep to the sector you were found in," after a moment, he continued, "You can call me Evans, and I am compelled to inform you that if you should betray us, we'll rip you limb from limb."
"I don't imagine I need to say it… but the same goes for you lovely folks." Penny added, her hand dropping gently to Travis's shoulder, "...I'm Penny, and this is Deck. Finn and Rose…" She gestured, "And these two are Travis and Zoey. Our kids. Victims of Hull, just like you… so maybe ease up. We've all been wounded by that psychopath. No need, any of us, pretending like we're the only victims."
Gritting his teeth at the threat, Finn shook his head. "Really great start to a wonderful community feeling…" He looked to Zoey and Travis, wondering what exactly they'd been forced to do. Awful things, he was sure, but he knew they were good kids. "Guess we won't be seeing much of you… whatever Kaiden forced these kids to do, they didn't want too. Just remember that." Finn lifted his gaze to Deck ad Penny, brows furrowed. "Are we good here for now?"
Deckard stared at Evans for a moment, "Ya, Finn, we're good. Let's head back. We gotta get ready."
At the comment, the rat girl frowned slightly, stepping forward, "Hold up...Ready?"
Finn coughed, feigning disinterest. "Ready to live in an abandoned missile silo. Set up some stuff so we're not sleeping on the floor."
"We aren't here just to hide," Deck answered, "We're not taking any of this lying down. We're gonna fight back. You're welcome to join us if you can get passed your fears of reformed little children."
"...Fight back, how?" The girl asked, brows narrowing slightly.
"We're gonna revive Rogue… what's left of it that hasn't turned into some militaristic KGB wannabe. And we're gonna protect our people, the way we were always meant to. All our people…" Penny's eyes flickered around the room, connecting with the mutants gathered there, "Like Deck said. You're welcome to join…"
Finn brought a hand to his forehead. "Oh, yeah. They're definitely gonna like that." Way to play it cool, team, way to play it cool. "But… if not… we… we won't let anyone know you're here. At all." Oooooh they were gonna hate this.
"Stick to your side, and we'll stay to ours. Any one of your people crosses the line, we won't hesitate," Bobby spit.
"Now, now," Evans interceded, "There's potential, and if what they're saying is true, then we'll need each other." With a shake of his head, he continued, "We aren't ready to join your Rogue two point oh, but we won't shut that door completely. Give us some time to see how things unfold."
Deckard let out a sigh, "Fine, but stay away from the children. I swear to God I'll bring this whole thing down on you if one hair is harmed. What they did was forced on them. They're different now."
Travis swallowed hard as he caught a glimpse of the sincerity of his father's words in his eyes. Looking up to his mom and then over to Zoey, he hoped to find something lighter.
Zoey's gaze, however, was transfixed on the ground, and while her hair hung in a rather effectively curtain around her face, the light sniffling sound coming from her was difficult to ignore. Giving Travis's shoulder a squeeze, Penny nodded to Deck, "...Let's go. We've got a lot of work to do…"
Grimacing at the threats being thrown from either side, Finn bowed his head. This was so tense and uncomfortable already, and they had barely been here five minutes. He hadn't forgotten how both he and Deck had been flung cruelly through the air, and whatever they'd done in retaliation. There were kids here. Kids who had been abused and manipulated, and yet still, no one could decide who was the victim.
Gaze softening, Finn stepped closer to Zoey and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "Come on." He murmured gently, sparing one last look at the rat girl and cursing the shivers that traveled down his spine.
"Right then," Deckard finished before joining the others in their exit, Travis following closely beside him.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Perfect Brains Are For ChumpsCollab by Cloudy and Elle
She was broken.
That was the only cognitive analytical conclusion she could possibly come to… A flawed, fractured brain. All the intelligence in the world, and she was still just a puppet for a man who wasn't even breathing anymore. It had been instinctual. Primitive, even. And for someone who's intellectual stimulus was so far matured from others, that was… unsettling, to put it mildly. If they hadn't stopped her. If Travis hadn't pushed past the static, she might've done the unthinkable.
And it hurt. Boy, did it hurt.
She moved without focus, as Finn's hand on her shoulder guided her like a rope pulling a cart, the insufferable emotions boiling over in her brain, pouring down her cheeks in frustrating rivers of saline. She wasn't just flawed. She was fully and truly broken…
It was nothing short of worrisome to see a ten year old look as devastated as Zoey did. It was already enough to have a head like hers on her shoulders. It stripped away any shred of innocence she could have, and that Finn knew how important that was. He knew that even though he'd been through hell at ten, he didn't have that look in his eye like Zoey did. He kept his hand tight on her, brows creased in concern though his smile was warm.
"Hey, Punk, how you doin'?" He murmured, giving her a little playful shake. "Getting lost in your head there?"
"It is impossible to get lost in one's own head…" She muttered, sniffing softly as she reached up to brush at her cheeks, "Even if man were to design a capability for entering a person's cranium, which, scientifically speaking, we are easily millenia from even theorizing, there is very little room for— Ah. You were using a figure out speech." Blinking, looking up at him, Zoey frowned softly, "...I do not believe in quantifying a person's value in ethical actions and behavior, as this measurement is at best subjective and extremely faulty, but I find most humans do not share this observational credence. Knowing this, I find myself with a rather disquieting query… D-do you think I'm a bad person?"
Gaze softening further, Finn shook his head, pulling Zoey into him just slightly for a comforting side hug. "Come on, Zo. I thought you were smart enough to know my answer to that question?" He said softly, nothing unkind in his tone. "What happened today… that's not something you can judge yourself on. You're barely double digits… what you did then and what he made you do aren't who you are. It can't be."
"...I wanted to hurt him." She answered softly, biting at the inside of her cheek, "For hurting you and Deck. I wanted to hurt him. And there is a part of me that still does. I do not…" Breathing in, she shuffled her foot forward a touch, before leaning into his hug, "I do not like feeling this way, but I do not know how to make it go away. In my head, there is nothing but logic and reason and… and by those I know that emotions and feelings are fallible, but then there is this… this anger. And I do not understand it. I think I am broken."
Finn exhaled steadily, trying to figure out how to respond. "I know what you mean," He murmured. "It's not… something you can help. It's fight or flight, it's instinctive. Someone takes something from you, you think you need to do it too. Trust me, I've done it, and even if that person was bad… I wish I hadn't." The arm that had looped around her shoulder came up to ruffle her hair gently. "You're so young, Zoey, even though it doesn't feel like it. You have all the time in the world to understand what these feelings mean and to learn how to control yourself better, and you also have all of us to help you. Anger doesn't make you broken. It just makes you human."
"But I was made… I was made to be better than human." Blinking, her eyes shifted up to him again, "Does this not make me a flawed creation? In the nursery, I… I would be put down. There is so much that I do not… that I cannot comprehend. How do you live with such conflict? They did not teach me this… and I… I have yet to understand any of it."
"Zoey," Finn said, shaking his head. "Who cares what you were made to be? Those people wanted machines. You should be thankful you're not whatever robot they wanted you to be. You are smart and funny and a joy to be around, and that's already more personality than all those people had put together. You would be put down for being the… the flowery and lively person I see in you and love. You're not supposed to understand everything yet… you're 10, and honestly? No one understands everything. Especially not me." He grinned. "You just have to love who you are. There's no one else to love but you."
Wrinkling her nose, Zoey shrugged, "I… am supposed to understand everything, Uncle Finn. But I think… well, I suppose I can see what you mean. It is like Travis used to tell me. Some things cannot be thought. Only felt. I know now that these things must be real, because I see the faith that is put into them. Deckard and Penny… Travis… You and Aunt Rose. But it goes against everything I was programmed to think, to allow myself to feel things, too. I… I do not know if I will ever be able to fully know these things. But I do know that I did not like the way anger felt… and I did not like the things they said about… about Travis and me."
He bit his lip, looking at her firmly. "Zoey, listen to me when I say this, okay? I'm not the smartest alive but I know you have to do something. Just one thing. And it will feel impossible, I know… but you'll have too. You have to forget whatever they programmed you to be… whatever machine they expected. You could spend your whole life looking at everything good and not understanding why you felt warm and fuzzy inside, because those sick people told you not too. You have to let go. Once you let go… everything will just make sense. Even if it can't be explained, you'll know in your heart what you have to do to feel right. That's … I know it's a lot to ask, but you have to change the way you look at this all. You're not a tool… you're you. And that's not comparable to whatever somebody else wanted you to feel."
"...F-forget?" Hands knotting before her, Zoey shook her head, "...I am not even sure that is possible, Uncle Finn. As much as I would like to, it is somewhat similar to what Travis experiences. He… he hears everything. In his head. He does not always say it, but I know that it is very difficult for him. The reason I am able to anchor him is because there is nothing but information in my head. I… I am impossible. A computer for a brain, when everything else is real and organic. Streams of it. Information. To… to forget what they programmed me to be… I do not know if, even if it is what my heart wants, more than anything… I do not know that my brain will allow it."
"So you mean to tell me the smartest person I've ever met, probably the smartest person on the planet, doesn't even want to try to come up with a solution? To try and fight against the way this awful thing makes her feel? No, hell no." He shook his head. "That is bulls- bullcrap, Zoey. Total bullcrap, and I don't even wanna hear. You have to try. Even if you try to change your head, to look at it from the outside in… things will be different, kid. I know they will." Finn nudged her encouragingly.
"...I do not see what the excrement of livestock has to do with this problem, Uncle Finn." Wrinkling her nose again, she managed a small, weary smile, "...But I will try. Because there is not anything I want more than to feel at least a little bit normal. I do not care for myself very much, the way I am. And I would very much like to fix that."
Oh, thank god. A smile. "Well, even when you feel like you don't like yourself much, think about how I like you a lot, alright? We're in it together, you and I. I got a lot to change about my own head too." He sighed, once more fluffing up her hair. "That's the spirit, Punk."
"...I… I like you, too, Uncle Finn. And if the thing… the thing you were referring to earlier, when you said you wish you had not…" Looking up, she shrugged, "I think sometimes we do the things we have to, to make the world a better place. I know that it will seem callous of me to say, and maybe in a way it is, but I am not sorry that he is gone. And you should not be sorry, either."
A deeper sigh fell out of Finn, filled with regret. "I know. That's what everyone says. But even after I did it… I still don't feel like I had the right too. And it didn't come from a good place. It came from anger and terror, just like you were feeling now too." He shook his head. "But, uhm… what's done is done. Don't do what I did, okay?"
"...I cannot do what you did. Kaiden Hull cannot die twice." Shaking her head, Zoey took a small step back, and clipping her hands behind her, studied him for a moment, "...We are different, and yet not so different. You use your heart too much. I use my brain too much. Maybe what I learn from you, Uncle Finn, will add balance."
He couldn't help the small snort that fell out of him, even if was preceded by a moment silent of surprise. "Okay, Yoda. Sounds good to me." Even though she stepped back, he held out his fist to her, waiting for her to bump it. "Yin and yang, eh? Idiot and smart aleck?"
Looking at the fist, Zoey's brow rose, and lifting her own hand, she cupped it, giving it a generous shake, "...Yin and yang, Uncle Finn."
Damn, that was cute. He accepted the strange handshake either way, smiling widely at her. "Now go hug your brother or something, alright? Spread some joy or whatever. Get outta here, I gotta do adult stuff."
Nose crinkling, Zoey shook her head, "...He is not my brother. We share no biological similarities to any degree." With a small grin, she backed up again, "But he is probably very much in need of a hug, and incidentally, they are quite beneficial towards building endorphin related stimulation…"
"Mhmn, and yet I'm your uncle Finn." He said with a teasing look in his eye. "Yup. All that sciencey stuff. Go do that. He needs it, especially from you."
"...Touche." With a small smile, she nodded, "Good luck being an adult. And… thank you. Your intentions to cheer me up, albeit quite obvious, have also been rather beneficial."
Finn smirked, dusting his hands off exaggeratedly. "Well, at least I did what I aimed to do. I'm here to do it anytime you need too, alright?"
"...Alright." With another nod, Zoey turned and without another word, scampered off towards Deck and Penny.
~~~~~~
A smile played on Finn's lips as he watched her go, shaking his head. He really liked kids, especially these two. Even though she was wise beyond her years she was still just so small. It was… kind of adorable, if he could find it in himself to look past all the awfulness they had been put through.
After a few moments standing in place, collecting himself, he followed after Zoey to find Penny. They had work to do and he was going to be here for it this time… nevermind the boogeymen in the closet.
"How's it going?" Finn asked as he approached.
"It's going…" Penny muttered, as she attached another cable to the back of the laptop, "This was always a hell of a lot easier when it was Luna doing it. Wanna hand me that box there? The shoebox looking one?"
Cringing slightly at the mention of Luna, Finn swivelled around to grab the box that Penny mentioned. "Ah, uh.. yeah… I'm sure. S-speaking of… y-you have her contact on this thing? Could I maybe give her a call once we've got it running?"
"Who? Luna?" Barely looking up, Penny chuckled, "You help me get this hot mess put together and you can use the SAT. I'm sure she'd love to hear from you."
His eyes softened slightly with relief, and nodded. "Y-you got it. I'm no tech wiz b-but I know a thing or two about setting up a system… me and Luna did a lot of stuff just to get our hands on the latest games, ya know." Finn immediately moved beside Penny, sticking his nose close to see whatever she was working on.
Pausing for a moment, Penny glanced over at him and a small grin formed, "Damn, Astro… I'm really glad you're back, you know that? Now…" Gesturing to the box, she held out a wire, "Plug that puppy in."
A small blush coming over him, he smiled back. "...Me too. Really." He reached out to take the wire without any hesitation, preparing to plug it into the box, before turning back and squinting at her. "Are you just trying to electrocute me? Is that what this is?" He accused teasingly.
Laughing, Penny shook her head, "If I was trying to take you out, I could've just let the Thing boulder you to death. Though to be fair I guess I didn't do a whole lot to help." Tapping on the keypad, she sighed, "One of these days, me and Deck… We're gonna retire for real."
"Um, yeah. The Thing definitely bouldered me to death already, so try a new threat." Finn shuddered. He had felt damn near every bone in his body snap like a twig, thank god Rose came quickly. "I am running out of my nine lives…" He muttered, plugging the wire in. "I hope you get too, really. At the same time, I doubt Rogue is ever going to stop needing you." He smiled warmly. "You're kind of good at all this. Putting us all together. Not a talent many people have, and you know us mutants… pretty good at being loners."
"Yeah… What is with that? My extra emo kids or something." Rolling her eyes, Penny plugged in another chord, "Doesn't feel like I've been doing much lately, Finn. Gotta be honest. I hate how everything just fell apart on us…"
Finn raised an eyebrow. "You mean, four years ago? Or… right now. I-I think you've done a lot, Pen. You hauled your whole family out here to get the gang back together. You always did everything anyone ever needed."
"Back then. I should've done more to keep us together. Feels like… like I gave up a little, after Ke...after he was gone. It was just too hard to face it. And I let everyone walk away." Another sigh escaped, as she plugged in the chord, "But I'm gonna make it right. It's what he would've wanted. What he would've done, you know?"
"Penny…" Finn mumbled, shaking his head. "We all… we all gave up after Keegan. No one more than me, really. You had to take care of your family. Everyone… everyone had to strike out on their own, even if just for a little while. It makes the reunion that much better, right?" He sighed. "We're all gonna try and make it right. For him."
"Hell… We need to make it right for us. None of this is how it should be. Hiding out in old missile tunnels. Looking over our shoulders. I've been down this road too many times, and I'm over it." Plugging in the final connection, she looked up to Finn, "Alright… hand me that notebook, there… bottom of the box?"
He nodded in subdued agreement, gaze far off. It was a pretty low way of life, but it was really all he'd ever known besides Rogue. And Rogue had been a hiding place too. Reaching for the notebook, Finn bit his lip. "I don't want to hide at all anymore… Even Rogue was a secret underground base. I want to live a life that isn't worried about Boogeymen in the back room, but that's… that's like wishing not to breathe. There's no way to get rid of it all… especially for me, after what I've done. That's just… our way of life."
"It is… but it doesn't have to stay that way. I won't give that man a damn thing more than he deserves, but Hull wasn't on the worst track with going political. He's a dick and I'm glad he's dead, but maybe things really could change for the better if we went about this differently…" Flipping through the notebook, she stopped on a page, "It's coded… so I'll need to dial, but then you're good to talk. Ready?"
Grace wasn't a person who got nervous easily. Generally speaking, she had a tendency not to take things too seriously, because in the end she wholeheartedly believed what would happen would happen and nothing could be done about it. But walking with Ollie to meet Khu, she could quite avoid the trickle of anxiety that coursed through her over the idea. Oliver was her best friend, her brother and she loved him more than anyone she'd ever shared a blood-bond with, but he could be stern and he certainly didn't trust easily… and she already knew he had reservations about Khuyen just because he was protective over her.
But he'd agreed. He'd agreed, and that was something… It didn't however, stop her from fidgeting anxiously as she entered Bucks, gesturing Ollie towards the attractive young man working behind the bar… "You promise you'll be nice, right?" She asked, quietly.
He didn't really like this whole meet-the-boyfriend thing. Or whatever the hell he was to her. It was too fast, too sudden, and he wasn't totally sure Grace was in a place to be making choices like this. He didn't say that out loud, though. For so many reasons. Glowering down at Grace with a tight frown, Oliver looked from her to the man at the bar, sighing deeply. "Depends." He announced, brows furrowed, before stepping forward.
Khuyen was thankful Buck's Tavern was relatively busy already. It spared him from getting caught up in his own head as he waited for Grace to show up. There was only so much time to get caught up in his own daydreams when he had a multitude of customers anxious for drinks. He was a man running on limited sleep and a power nap at his point, though, and he knew the high speed pace of business would wear on him eventually. He was nursing his especially strong cup of coffee when he could, in between spurts of customer demands.
There was a lull at the moment, just long enough he could spare the time to chat with a patron at the bar. He'd been talking animatedly, hands motioning throughout, when his gaze happened to flick to the door for what had to have been the 700th time that day. He excused himself before slipping away, standing closer to where Grace and Oliver approached. He greeted them with a wide, warm smile. "Hello, love," he said, waving to Grace, before turning his attention to Oliver. "And you must be Oliver." He extended a hand across the counter for the other man to shake. "I'm Khuyen. It's nice to meet you."
Oliver stared at the man's open hand for a while longer than necessary. Love, already? Coffee off to the side, bad sleeping habits? Bad influence, bad news, gah. So many bad things. Too many bad things. He nodded curtly and shook Khuyen's hand. "...Nice to meet you too." His phone replied, and Oliver wondered briefly if she'd informed him of his speaking predicament. "Are we interrupting your work?"
Oliver's posture was everything Grace had hoped it wouldn't be, and she was, frankly, a touch disappointed. She understood his desire to protect her… she did, but she was also hoping he'd put a little more effort in not looking quite so… distraught. Shaking her head, she approached Khu and as he came around the bar and waved, she threw her arms around his shoulders, giving him a healthy squeeze, "Hey, baby. You living in proper agony, without me?"
Grinning, she stepped back, gesturing, "Ollie, Khu. Khu, Ollie. But I guess you figured that out, already…"
Khuyen noted several things as Oliver reached to take his hand. First, was the height. Khuyen wasn't particularly small, nor was he insecure about his height. He was a touch above average height and perfectly content with it. Right up until someone was significantly taller and was made consciously aware of that fact. So this was already starting off fabulously. The second thing was, well, everything about his behavior. He recognized it. The big brother stance. He'd seen it plenty of times. He could recognize it in an instant. This time, though, it carried a little more weight. Third, was the voice. He was surprised, and for just a moment, his eyebrows raised. Beyond that, he didn't let his surprise show. Ultimately, there were stranger things in this underground mutant haven, even if he hadn't been expecting that.
He shook his head as he shook Oliver's hand. "You're not interrupting at all. You might see me hop back and forth a little, but it's no issue," he assured before his attention was swiftly drawn back to Grace. "Oh, absolutely. You know it," he said with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her in turn and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead before she pulled away. "You know, I was starting to figure that…" he added teasingly.
Oliver visibly cringed at the showy touch of PDA. It surprised him in more ways than one. The fact that it had been days since they'd arrived at the Underground and they were already so close. That Grace held not an inch of the usual distrustfulness… was that good or bad? Had he manipulated her, or broken the walls? Everything suddenly held a double meaning in his eyes and he stared at them with uncertainty, hands fiddling with the buttoned cuff at his wrist. It had been a long time since he had encountered any sort of.. love, like that. It felt foreign. Especially at the hands of someone he cared for this much. Biting the inside of his cheek, he looked down at Khuyen. "How long have you been with the Underground?" He asked.
Wrinkling her nose, Grace chuckled, before shaking her head, "That's why you're the smart one, Casanova." She added with a wink, before stepping back, as Oliver's phone chirped out the question.
"Who says there has to be just one? And you say that now, but I'm pretty sure you thought my Cats-anova joke was dumb," Khuyen chuckled, sticking his tongue out at her as she stepped back. He turned to face Oliver, having just missed the worst of the other man's cringing at the two of them. "I've been here about four years, and getting closer to five all the time," he answered. Onto the interrogation then.
Oliver had thought about an interrogation. About what questions to ask to verify if the man was a spy or an idiot or maybe something in between. Instead, he took a somewhat shy step back, brows still furrowed. "Right. Nice to meet you. I don't really think you need me here." He said, giving Grace a shrug. "I'll go back and find Nick somewhere."
Blinking, the smile fading slightly, Grace turned to Ollie, giving him a look that mildly suggested she was fairly close to smacking him upside his head. A brow lifting, she shook her head, and despite the teasing tone to her voice, there was a spark of hurt behind her eyes, "Right… I don't need you here… where I asked you to be. Cause what crazy person expects someone to actually stick around... when that sort of thing comes up?"
Khuyen blinked at the pair of them, eyes flicking between them a little anxiously. "Uh," he said eloquently, finding himself speechless for once. He didn't really want to get tied up in...whatever had just happened here. "Is there...anything I can get the two of you? Mocktail offer still stands, Grace," he said.
The spark of hurt in her eyes wasn't lost on him, but a new wave of emotion had overtake Ollie, one that he was trying to suppress. "What do you want me to do, deem him worthy? Your relationships are your own. You're very cute. Is that what you want to hear?" His expression seemed somewhat somber, and the for the most part ignored Khuyen's weak peacekeeping attempt.
Staring at him, the amusement faded entirely from her expression, and stepping back from him, she frowned, "...W-wow. I expected… I expected you to be a little over protective, Ol. But I didn't expect you to be… wow." Shaking her head, and without looking at him, she answered Khu maybe just a touch more sharply than she meant, "Scotch." And without another word she brushed past Oliver and moved to find a seat at the bar.
Khuyen continued to blink at the two in front of him, suddenly very aware of the tension between them. Alrighty, there went that amicable greeting. He raised an eyebrow as Oliver bit out a response, or as much as he could given that his voice was electronic. His small frown pulled into a flicker of a grimace as she mentioned alcohol before sighing. Casting one last slightly concerned look towards Oliver, he focused his attention onto Grace as he slipped behind the bar. "Are you sure?" he asked her, "I seem to remember taking the last scotch you ordered off your hands." His words could've been teasing, but the joking tone fell flat, leaving only the somber concern instead.
Oliver's cheeks grew hot. "Grace…" A hesitant hand reached out but he pulled it back, looking at Khuyen, somewhat flustered. "I don't understand what you want me to say. You know I'm… hesitant about this. But I.. am hesitant about everything." He kept his distance from her, rubbing his own shoulder. "I worry it's a little soon for all this. I worry about you."
Frowning at Khuyen's words, Grace stared at her hands on the countertop. She knew he was right, but a part of her wanted to say yes, just to prove him wrong. Because damn it all if she didn't wanna be right about something… But shaking her head, she looked up at him with misty eyes, gaze shifting only when she heard Ollie behind her.
"...Too soon for what, Ollie?" She asked, without turning around, knowing she'd lose her grip if she did, "...For me to be happy? It's been frickin' twenty-two years… I think maybe I'm due. I'm sorry if it feels fast, but God damn it. You of all people should know that it's not easy for me to let someone in, and if I do, there's a reason for it! I knew you for a few hours and I knew you were worth it. What makes this any different? I get that you wanna protect me, but this is the first time in my life I have ever, ever felt valued by someone who wanted to be with me. And all I wanted was for you to… to be happy for me, too."
Khuyen shifted uncomfortably behind the bar counter, looking everywhere but at Grace and Oliver. He suddenly found walls very interesting, since they held a large part of his attention. Part of him was thankful, that he and his sister had very few spats and arguments, both growing up and as adults. He'd been around enough uncomfortable situations regarding others' families to be thankful for the relationship he had with Aja. As for other things he happened to be thankful for, he'd nearly sighed in relief as a customer from a different part of the bar called him over. "I'll be right back. Promise," he told Grace before slipping away to deal with the request.
Oliver's head drooped, and his fists balled as Grace spoke. Wordlessly, he slid into the stool beside her, resting his elbows on the countertop, looking straight ahead, jaw tight. "You're right." He shook his head. He let it ring in silence for a while, running a hand through his hair, grinding his teeth. "You're right. I'm sorry."
Breathing out a shaky breath, Grace waiting until Khu had gone before turning to Ollie, "...I get it, Ollie. I do. But if I didn't know that I was completely sure about this, do you really think I'd have asked you to meet him? He is… he's incredible, Ol. I… I've never felt like this. I didn't even know I could." Brushing her cheeks, she smiled faintly, "Last night, I dreamed about my mom… and I woke up and he was there with me. And he… he stayed up all night with me, Ol. The way he respects me… and… and protects me from myself. From being stupid and reckless. I knew I needed you to meet him, because… because I think that there's a pretty good chance… I could fall for him, and I… I want my best friend to know that."
Khuyen spoke with the patron in question for a little while, nodding along as they explained. After a few minutes of conversation and the bartender in question made the drink requested, he slipped back towards Oliver and Grace. "Sorry about that," he apologized with a small smile. His gaze still flicked between the two of them, trying to assess the situation. "For real this time. Can I get either of you something? Other than scotch," he added, giving Grace a weighty look. "We've got stuff that's not alcohol, or I can extend the offer I made Grace to you, Oliver. If you pick something from the menu, I can make a non-alcoholic version." He gestured with a finger towards the drink menu above his head, eyes flicking up as he did.
Oliver's gaze softened considerably as he watched a smile bloom on Grace's face. Her expression seemed to allow him to exhale, and he nodded, almost kicking himself out of foolishness. Though there was still a worry that clung to his heart, he couldn't deny the fact that he only wanted to see Grace happy. And she was… happy.
"Let's try this again," Oliver said, glancing up at Khu, reaching his hand out again. "I'm Oliver. You are Khuyen. And I have barely entered any bars in my lifetime, so anything you want to give me, I'll take it."
Her smile warmed as Khu returned and Oliver's attitude shifted towards something a bit more familiar and amiable. Her posture relaxed and she could feel the uneasiness melting away.
"He makes a wicked appletini." Grace remarked, looking up at Khu with a broader grin.
Khuyen took Oliver's hand in his, shaking it once again. After he pulled his hand away, he took a step back. His expression turned pensive as he crossed his arms and tapped his chin, assessing Oliver. What flavor… what drink… He shifted through lists and recipes in his head before his attention was brought to Grace. "Careful, love, you're going to make me blush if you keep complimenting my appletini," he warned teasingly.
Smiling hesitantly, Oliver looked between them both. "Not sure about an apple martini." His phone did not want to say appletini. "I'm sure Khuyen can come up with something, right? Grace vouched for that much." He smirked innocently, and scratched the back of his head, glancing to the side. "Did you warn him about the whole voice business?"
"Oh… I'm sure he's already reading your mind, Ol.." She looked to Khu with a broad grin, and a small flash of a wink, "And making you blush is my favorite pastime. You don't know this, yet?" Already, things were improving… things were looking up, and the relief she felt was enough to relieve her anxiety and brighten her expression, "Voice business? OH!" Laughing she shook her head, "You know… I don't even think about it anymore, I've gotten so used to it. He's mute, Khu. In case you were wondering about the phone. If you tell me you know sign language, I'm gonna cry, cause apparently everyone but me is fluent in it."
"I'll figure something out," Khuyen replied with a grin. "Oh, yes. I'm in your mind and I'm sensing…" He held his hands out, waving them a little in Oliver's direction as he let his voice mimic the rasp of an old fortune teller. "I'm sensing… things." His act was quickly interrupted by his own snort. "I'm definitely starting to figure that out, love," he teased. He tilted his head, a little confused as Oliver mentioned the 'voice business.' "No, she absolutely did not. That would definitely explain it, though," he admitted, nodding. It then turned into head shaking. "Sign language? No, I don't have a clue. I caught Helona and Nick signing at each other once, and I think my brain tried to melt out of my ears. Nick even signs stuff at me sometimes, and I have no idea what he's saying. I'm pretty sure it's payback, for the times I called him 'Pretty Boy' to mess with him," he continued, a distressed pout on his face.
Oliver laughed softly at Khu's fortune teller impression, though he brought his hand to his mouth to interrupt it and played it off as a cough. "I'll tell Nick to lay off. Seems I need to teach the both of you sign language, or else he'll just keep going." He offered, resting his chin in his hand, watching the two of them banter sweetly with curiosity. "Though he is a Pretty Boy, so I don't see why he'd be offended." Oliver joked with a small grin.
"Oh, he's so very pretty. We're all pretty, let's be honest." Her eyes shifted up to Khu and she grinned, "Though some of us are so much more 'sparkly' than others…" Mischief gleamed behind her gaze, and her nose wrinkled in a playful tease.
"And I do recall you offered to teach me, before all hell broke loose above ground. Still only know my letters, and some of those are a pretty weird."
"I don't know that he's offended by it…." Khuyen chuckled mischievously. A pout soon found itself on his face again as he looked over at Grace. "I told you, Grace. We don't sparkle," he protested teasingly, shaking his head. Mentally he flipped through possibilities for drinks, flicking his gaze over Oliver. "So...is it still a go on the appletini, love?"
"I did offer. Offer still stands." Oliver said with a shrug. "You're going to have to learn eventually, if you really want to keep up with the big leagues." He smirked, glancing back at Khuyen. "No… I'm not an apple martini sort of man. I think you can do better. Surprise me."
"The big leagues, huh? You know my family's Italian, right? We were born to talk with our hands…" Grace laughed softly both at Khu and Oliver, before shaking her head, "Way to assume you're 'love', Ollie. Just cause everyone likes you best…" Looking up, she nodded to Khu, "Still a go."
Khuyen chuckled, "I'm pretty sure I'm going to get smacked one day, when she's talking." He snorted, realizing that while he'd directed the question at Grace, she hadn't been the person he was looking at. "I dunno, I think 'everyone' is a bit strong, love," he advised, pressing one more kiss to Grace's forehead. "I'm pretty sure I like you more so far." With that, he pulled away, starting to make the mocktail, finally deciding on what to make Oliver as he finished and slid the glass towards Grace. "I think...I've got something in mind for you," he told Oliver with a smile.
"Sarcasm. Hard to read through an electronic voice." Oliver said with a roll of his eyes. His smile flickered as Khuyen pressed a kiss to Grace's forehead, and he looked down, cheeks somewhat flush. It took him a moment to recover. "Do you? Have you read my mind yet?" He said with another small shrug. "I hope you impress me." He teased.
"Oh… well, as long as I'm your favorite, we're golden." Grinning brighter, her cheeks pink, Grace sank into her stool with a small, content sigh. Looking over to Oliver, she chuckled, "Don't have emojis on there, Ol?"
"You're definitely my favorite, love," Khuyen agreed with a wide smile and a small nod. "I'm still sensing things, that's for sure," he told Oliver, wiggling his fingers one more time. He pulled a few ingredients out, setting to work on Oliver's own mocktail. A short while later, with tangerine juice, club soda, and lemon juice poured into a glass that was garnished with a sprig of rosemary was slid towards the other man. "I hope I impress you too," he commented, "because you strike me as a citrus man."
Oliver glanced at Grace with an amused smirk. "What, do you want me to announce smiley faces out loud?" He said with a small raspy chuckle, eyeing the drink with excitement as Khuyen pushed it towards him. He examined it first, glancing at Khu with a bit of shock as he took a sip. "Happy face." His phone announced, as Oliver took another sip.
Grace could not have smiled more if she'd wanted to, her eyes lighting up at Khuyen's words, then all the more at Ollie's reaction. For something that had started so poorly, it had taken a much better turn over the last few minutes, and she allowed herself to relax as she laughed at Oliver's phone, chirping praise.
"Exactly like that!" She exclaimed with another laugh.
Khuyen was beaming as Oliver took a sip, and then took another after saying the words 'Happy face.' "So I was right?" he asked after a moment, looking very pleased with himself. "Citrus is your thing?" He laughed as well, shaking his head. "Announcing emojis is the best way to do it."
"I am one hundred percent a citrus fan. Lemon emoji." Oliver took another sip, mood absolutely improved. The drink was delicious, and he was rather surprised that Khuyen had pegged him so correctly. "This is really delicious, Khuyen. Thank you." He offered the man a grin. "You might just have to make me another."
The pride swelled in Grace in such a way it was almost overwhelming to her. She wanted this, so badly… for them to get along. To enjoy each other's company. She wanted nothing more in the world than for two of the most important people in her life to like one another. And here they were… bumps in the road smoothed out… Easy and at peace. Taking her own drink, she took a sip and sank into the stool with a small, relieved sigh.
"Gotcha," Khuyen said, clicking his tongue with a wink and finger gun pointed at Oliver. He laughed, shaking his head as the other man once again announce his emoji. "You're absolutely welcome. If you want another, just let me know. I'll be happy to make it," he assured him.
Rolling his eyes at the finger guns, Oliver once again buried his attention in the drink. "Yes. Another would be much appreciated." He said definitively, with a nod, pushing the already empty glass back towards Khuyen. There was still some trepidation in Oliver's posture, but it seemed mostly self driven, as Oliver drummed his fingers along his own forearm, sparing a glance towards Grace. He was surprised to see the relief in her expression, and Oliver bit his lip, trying to will himself to calm just as she was. She seemed so happy.
Catching Oliver's gaze, Grace lifted her hand, painstakingly letting her fingers work through the letters to spell the words 'Thank you' before she reached to give his hand a squeeze.
Khuyen nodded with a soft laugh. He took the glass in hand and set to work on yet another drink. Once he was done, he slid it back across the counter to Oliver. He raised an eyebrow as Grace spelled out something to Oliver, though he wasn't totally sure what it was. He wouldn't get much of a chance to think too long on it either. Another patron had begun to flag him down, and quickly excusing himself, he slipped away to tend to them.
At the sight of Grace's hands moving, Oliver sighed softly, nodding with a slight tinge of color to his cheeks. Giving Khuyen a nod as the man hopped off to another customer, he moved closer to Grace, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have befriended four people in my lifetime. I'm rusty. I'm sorry."
Smiling faintly, Grace watched Khu go, before looking at Oliver, "I'm sorry, too. I know it was a lot to put on you at once, and I… I'm not mad at you for worrying about me. Hell, it scares me, Ol. All of this. But I think it's good. Feels good, and I guess… I just really wanted you to know that."
He nodded in understanding, hands wrapped around the cool drink, near admiring it. "Did you tell him I like citrus?" Oliver chuckled softly. "Did I even tell you I like citrus?"
Laughing, Grace shook her head, "I had no idea. He nailed my drink, too. And I'm pretty sure he can't read minds. Lemme test it…" Looking at Khu from across the bar, she make a face to suggest concentration, "Hm… Nope. No mind reading."
Oliver laughed, shaking his head. "Guess he's got a gift, then. Good bartender." His gaze fell to Khu for a moment before looking back at Grace. "What are his abilities?"
"I don't know all of it… It's kinda complicated, but he can… I guess, he can turn things off and on. Anything. He uh…" Gesturing, she pointed up to her injured ear, "He fixed this a little, kinda like you did."
Oliver's brow furrowed in confusion, looking at what once was a much worse injury. "Turn things off and on?" He echoed, head tilted. "Anything. That's… interesting."
"Yeah… I can see why they like having him around down here." With a small chuckle, she shrugged, "Speaking of… I'm kind of starting to think maybe it's not so bad down here, altogether, you know?"
Oliver nodded, taking another swig of his drink. "If you see yourself here, Grace, I'd say it's a fine idea. It seems safe… the people seem good. I'd support it."
"What about you, Ollie?" Looking over at him, she frowned softly, "...You'd do well down here, too. And… and hey, almost everyone you know lives down here, so… there's that, right?"
Taking a deep breath, Oliver rubbed the back of his neck. "There's that." He echoed, and even though the voice was electronic, it sounded uncertain. He shrugged. "I dont know yet, Grace. I'm not very adaptable. Too stubborn, really. But I'm not going anywhere right now, so you don't have to worry too much about it."
"You? Stubborn? Imagine that…" Giving him a nudge with her shoulder, she smiled, "...Take your time deciding. Not like I even know, myself, yet. But… you better believe I'm not gonna just let you run off without me."
Oliver nudged her back, smiling as well. "I know, sass queen. My company's just too enjoyable, isn't it?" He teased.
Grinning, Grace nodded, "Damn straight it is. I'd miss you, too much. And I don't like missin' people…" Giving him a poke in the arm with her finger, she plucked up her own drink and finished it off, "Speaking of missing things. You… you gonna be okay if I stay over his place now and then? Last night was kind of nice… I… I slept longer than usual."
Oliver snorted, grinning right back at her. "You already practically live there. If you're resting well… of course. Not like you needed my permission, anyway." He playfully poked her as well. "Nick snores loud enough to cover you, so."
"Oi! First of all… I know I don't need it, even if you do act more like my dad than my actual dad ever did. But your feelings do matter to me… a tiny bit. You know… like how your feelings matter to Maisy." She teased, wrinkling her nose at him, "And second off… I never snored! That's a heinous lie and you know it. Whatever that noise is Nick makes is all on him."
"My feelings matter to Maisy! You're cruel. Terrible. That's it, grounded. You're grounded for a week." He announced, jabbing a finger at her. "And you absolutely do snore. You can't prove otherwise, because you're asleep." He stuck his tongue out at her.
Grinning, Grace shook her head, "That's the point, dummy. They matter to me, too. Geez, keep up Ols." Taking another sip, she finished the drink and set down the glass, "Oh, see. Ya went there, and now… now I'm gonna have to break the news. Oliver… of the three of us, I'm afraid to tell you the only actual snorer… is you. Astonishing, I know. But true. Ask Nick."
Khuyen had handled a throng of patrons that had called for his attention as the other two chatted. Now and then, he glanced back towards Grace and Oliver, one of those times being suspiciously close to when Grace claimed to have tested his ability to read minds. Ultimately, however, he was none the wiser of what exactly was being said as he made several drinks. Eventually, he made his way back to the pair, grin still bright. "I'm not totally sure how snoring became the topic of conversation," he commented, glancing between the two as he returned, "but don't stop on my account."
"Me? No. Definitely not. I am the quietest sleeper of the both of you put together." Oliver announced, chest puffed. There was an air of humor to his answer despite no infliction of tone, and he shot Khuyen a smirk. "Nothing left to discuss here. Simply stating facts. Grace is a horribly loud sleeper, don't you agree?"
"Oh yeah, right. I'm quiet as a mouse, and you know it. Besides… not like I do much in the way of sleeping." Looking to them both, she chuckled dryly, "Cause of the dreams. Not… oh shut up. You know what I mean." Cheeks slightly pink, she took a sip from her glass.
"Loud sleeper? I don't know about that," Khuyen commented, just managing to bite back a comment he might've said if he weren't trying to make a good impression. It seemed, however, that he wasn't the first to break that particular spell. He bit his lip, trying to stifle a laugh as he grinned. "She said it. It wasn't me. I have a witness," he chuckled, pointing to Grace.
Oliver chuckled somewhat nervously, trying to ignore the pang of sadness that hit him at her statement and taking another sip of his drink. "Alright, alright. You're spared, for now." Oliver smiled softly at Khuyen. "Me, though. I'm the most peaceful sleeper ever."
"You wish…" Grace teased, with a grin, "He's a jackhammer… which is incredible, considering he's silent, otherwise. Nick'll back me up. I'm sure of it…" Mostly because Nick loved teasing Oliver, too.
Khuyen chuckled at the pair of them going back and forth over who was the loudest sleeper. He shook his head, a wide smile on his lips as he listened. "Thank you for your mercy," he said, with a flourish of a slightly teasing bow.
"A jackhammer! Come on. Exaggerations." Oliver rolled his eyes at them both, a smile tugging at his lips at Khuyen's bow. "Okay, okay. Enough about me and my perfectly normal sleeping habits. I don't know much about you." Oliver nodded to the man.
Sitting back, Grace smiled at the pair, allowing herself tofall quiet as Oliver's polite interrogation began… This… this was what she wanted. Khu welcomed… known. Loved.
Khuyen chuckled as he watched the two of them go back and forth. He'd crossed his arms, leaning on the counter as he watched the two of them. He raised an eyebrow at the question. "What would you like to know?" he asked. "I'm an open book tonight."
"An open book? That's dangerous, my friend. Very dangerous." Oliver tapped his fingers along his chin, giving Khuyen a foreboding smirk. "For starters… your powers, maybe? And how you got to the Underground." He shot Grace a glance. "Don't know what Grace has told you about me, but I can fill you in on that too."
"Big, hardcore Snow White-powered hero… Took in a girl who tried to rob him, saved my sorry ass twice, life got wrecked cause I'm a wicked idiot… I basically covered you the night Khu and me met, Ols…" Finger tracing the rim, she shrugged, an edge of guilt forcing away the momentary comfort she'd felt, "Right up to you throwin' a damn tree as Asher."
"Oh, I definitely see how you two and Nick are friends," Khuyen snorted, shaking his head at the sinister expression and the other man's comments. "My powers are activation and deactivation. I just turn things on and off," he replied with a shrug. He placed a hand on the counter, palm flat as he stared intently at a specific light hanging above them. He tapped one finger, and the light flicked off. He tapped it again, and it turned back on. "Like that. Nothing super special."
"As for how I got here, sheer dumb luck, really. Did something stupid, nearly got myself killed," he admitted, sparing them the details. "I was lucky that they found me after the fact, and well, I've been here since." His eyes lit up in recognition at Grace's words. "And the bear. Don't forget the part about the bear."
"Snow White-powered hero.. Grace, please." Oliver said with a scoff, a hint of color coming to his cheeks, drumming his fingers. "And do you? Darn, I thought Nick and I were harder to pick apart than that." His eyes widened slightly at the explanation of Khuyen's powers, watching the light flick on and off. "Seems rather special to me. That could go a long way… have some pretty interesting uses."
There was a softness that came upon him as Khuyen very vaguely regaled his Underground origin story. Vague, but there was likely a reason. Seemed everyone had a tragic past around here, and Oliver couldn't say he wasn't a victim of tragedy either. Another chuckle fell out of him, and he dismissively waved his hand. "The bear is just a friend. I'm sure Grace has already bored you with the details… moral of the story is… I protect my own. Try to, at least." He leveled his gaze towards Khuyen, as if to silently ask, do you do the same?
Khuyen chuckled as Oliver echoed Grace's description of him. He merely grinned at Oliver. "Maybe you are, and I'm just more aware of things," he offered. "I just know Nick gives people shit-eating grins when they say things like 'I'm an open book' or 'I'll do anything'." He tilted his head, considering. "I guess so. I'm still feeling out some of my limits, honestly," he admitted.
His eyebrows raised. "The bear is just a friend? See, that must makes me more concerned, and I'm not entirely sure why," he huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know about boring me with the details… but yeah I got that impression," he added, giving the man across from him a reassuring smile.
Oliver nodded sagely. "Definitely sounds like a Nick thing to say. And I guess my advice to you would be not to rush it… took me a long time to understand my abilities, but it's better if you come into it bit by bit." And better not to be told you are mentally deficient. Details. "If there's any other things you wanted to know about me, I suppose you could go ahead and ask them now." He said with a small shrug. "Is it wrong to have bears for friends?" He smiled back.
"Thank you," Khuyen said with a nod. He didn't exactly plan on pushing his limits anytime soon beyond what he already had, but who knew? In any case, he was keeping the process of figuring out his abilities relatively slow. "...How long have you two known each other?" he asked, tilting his head as he gestured to Ollie and Grace. "I wouldn't say wrong. Just concerning for my heart rate," he joked.
"If you're concerned for your heart rate… we might have a problem…" Grace quipped, with a small smirk, before looking over to Ollie, "We met a little over a year ago… I uh… was helping myself to Ollie's stuff, and instead of having said bear friend eat me alive, he made me dinner and gave me a place to stay. And I repaid him by being a complete ass, and running off the next day. Didn't see him again till after… you know…" Vaguely, she gestured to her ear with a shrug.
"Dramatic retelling." Oliver said with a dismissive wave of his hand, lightheartedness wavering at the sight of her ear, something he had never properly been able to fix. "She was… foraging. I gave her supplies to continue on her way. Although I wish it had been under better circumstances, we ended up alright. Mama bear doesn't much like human feasts anyway."
Khuyen wheezed a laugh, biting his lip to keep from smiling. He shook his head, not quite looking at Grace after that comment. He was trying to behave, damnit. "I just want to say… that's all her. I'm being a very good boy, and I am not responding to that," he commented, smiling over at Grace, before his gaze flicked back towards Oliver. "I'm glad it worked out, though, if nothing else," he stated. "And knowing your bear friend doesn't enjoy human feasts is… very reassuring."
His brow furrowed as Grace gestured to her ear. He made a mental note to give another go at trying to heal it again later.
"Dramatic my butt…" Grace protested, "All accurate and you know it. You're just being modest. It was the first time I found a place that made me wanna stick around." Tucking her hair back behind her ear, she shrugged, "Till now, I guess…"
Dumpsters, Shit-fits, and Escapes Collab with @Elle Joyner It should've been easy, really. In and out with time to spare and little hassle, if anything had gone to plan. But the world had apparently decided that plans were dumb parents that couldn't lock it down, and had decided to throw a massive shit fit about boundaries and lack thereof on this particular night. It just so happened to be a night Alastor had split them up into pairs to track down and trap a particularly nasty piece of work that Grey had gotten a good bit of cash to take out.
It was because of this that Dorien found himself pressed against Aster's side, thanks to the spectacular lack of decent hiding spots except for behind the dumpster in the tiny sliver of space between it and the wall, waiting for the target to show.
All things considered, Dorien was definitely sure things could be worse.
Breathing in, Aster pressed tighter into the tiny space. She was small but this was ridiculous, all things considered, and hardly comfortable…Yet in the back of her mind she couldn't help but be grateful that Dorien, at least, had an irritating habit of smelling pretty damn fantastic… because what was coming from the dumpster sure didn't.
"What do we do…" She whispered, close to his ear.
"Wait," Dorien answered. Goosebumps formed on his skin under his jacket at hearing her voice so close to his ear. He was almost scared to turn his head, or else end up with his glasses stuck in whatever had leaked over the back of the dumpster. Or worse, his nose.
Their target was definitely supposed to be here by now though. There was an ache in his back from the awkward position he'd gotten into out of the foolish hope he wouldn't stay there long. If this guy took any longer, though, he was going to flop out from behind the dumpster and take his chances trying to find the guy making them wait.
"Oh my God…" Her voice rose slightly, a high pitched whisper, as she clung suddenly tighter to the back of Dorien's arm, "Oh my God… something just brushed my ankle, Dorien! I can't do this! This… I need to get out…"
It was in that moment that the target finally showed up and while Dorien desperately wanted to fling himself out from behind the dumpster, he no longer safely could. "Not yet," he answered back, though his voice was a little higher too. Please don't be furry. Please don't let it be a furry creature.
Her nails dug in, possibly not unintentionally, as she sucked in a breath to keep from screaming, "You… have… ten… seconds…" She hissed, "It's on my shoooe…"
Dorien hissed through his teeth as her nails dug in. "Tell that to slowpoke," he answered, trying to keep his voice low. He cringed a little as she said it was on her shoe. There was no way to turn, no way to look, that wouldn't send his face directly into the waterfall of festering sludge on the back of the dumpster. If looks could kill, the stare he gave their target as they took their sweet time getting to their apartment would have burned holes through flesh. As soon as the door was closed, Dorien shuffled aggressively out from behind the dumpster, gasping in fresh air as he looked back at Aster.
As soon as Dorien moved, Aster scurried, wasting no time at all clambering from behind the dumpster. With a squeal she wouldn't be proud of later, she leapt at Dorien, as the rather dog-sized rat scampered out after her, hissing in irritation to the sudden change in positioning from her warm foot.
"Oh God," Dorien wheezed, his voice definitely higher as he saw the giant rat. "Oh God, oh God, oh God." He'd grasped Aster's upper arms as she leapt towards him, pulling her away from the rat as he stared at it with wide eyes. "Shoo," he told the rat. He really didn't want to touch it, but so help him, if it came closer he was going to kick it.
The rat gave one last hiss, that in very many ways sounded like they were being cussed out, before skittering away, back under the dumpster. Still clinging to Dorien, wide-eyed, Aster stared in horror, "Oh my God… I'm going to have to chop off my foot…"
"It will be remembered fondly," Dorien told her. "We'll have a funeral for it and everything. Flowers, a eulogy, that 'Heart of an Angel' song, crying old women, the whole shebang." He didn't fight the shudder that traveled down his spine as the rat finally disappeared again.
"Ugh…" Shaking her head, she finally released him, though not without some reluctancy, and her feet touched down to the floor with a small shiver, "God… Let's just do this and get it over with, please… Can't be worse than that trash experience."
"Don't say that. Next thing you know, the guy we're looking for unzips his skin to reveal he's an even bigger rat, and that was his pet," Dorien whined as she let go, lowering herself entirely to the ground again.
"NO! Augh, Dorien! Why?? Why would you give me that mental image??" Smacking his arm, Aster shook her head, "You're going in first, now…" She muttered, gesturing to the door, "Damn rats… and… rats in men-suits…"
"Hey, you were the one trying to jinx us by saying things couldn't be worse than that. Besides, maybe he's a friendly rat man, like Master Splinter," Dorien offered, his smile half sheepish and half amused. He sincerely doubted the man was friendly though, given why Grey had gone after him at all. Human trafficking, with children. It was enough to fill his mouth with bile when he'd been told the first time. He stifled down the feeling now as he looked at the door. "Sure. That just means the rat-dog will get you first," he teased, starting for the door.
"Ooh… I hate you so much…" She muttered, while contradicting herself entirely by remaining latched to his side. This was one of the few jobs she'd run for Alastor Grey where she didn't feel like some part of her soul was being ripped away… and despite the rats and the dumpster, there was almost a tingle of excitement… like they were doing something right for once.
"Ready when you are, Fish."
"So you say," Dorien teased again, shaking his head as he approached the front door. He took a breath. He was never really prepared for this, but this was as ready as he'd ever be. "I'm ready," he told her. Then he opened the door, simply turning the knob and slipping inside. There was no show, no bravado, in the way he stepped inside, which was in stark contrast to how he'd always seen Alastor Grey do it. Personally, Dorien thought this was a touch eerier. That didn't matter, though, because now they were in the lion's den.
The man stood at a sink in the corner of the dingy, grimy kitchenette, washing his hands. A weed of a man, tall and lanky, but broad shouldered enough to suggest he wasn't one to underestimate. His face, ironically, was somewhat rat-like, pinched and narrow and his hands extremely large, with long, bony fingers. As he turned, Aster felt her heart stop and the breath left her chest in a gasp.
It was a blind slap… the recognition, and without thinking, she snagged the gun Dorien kept tucked in his waistband, aiming it at the man, "You sick son of a bitch…" she whispered, hands and voice quivering.
Dorien startled a little, on the verge of speaking to the man before them, when Aster snatched the gun from where it had been tucked away. "Aster," he said softly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. Something had hit close to home. There was no mistaking it, whatever had flickered over her face just before she pointed the gun at the man before him. Something else was going on here, and he wasn't sure what it was. Still, they had a job to do. "I suggest you make yourself comfortable, sir," he told the man after a moment, keeping himself in range of the door to head him off if he needed to, "because it's likely going to be the last time you do so."
"Aster…" the man repeated, the word curling from his lips behind a smirk, "Damn… it's been a while. You've grown…."
"Shut up!" Aster growled, grip tightening around the gun, "Just shut up!"
"You miss me that much, Little Girl…? Decided to come home to--"
"I said shut up!" It was a shout this time, her hands quaking as tears burned in her eyes.
"This is not a house call," Dorien told the man coldly, the blank mask he wore as the Huntsman sliding into place. It was grim and stern, unlike how he usually was. He didn't take any sort of mirth in this, not like Alastor did. "Alastor Grey has come calling. Now, sit down, before I take the gun and shoot you myself. She has a gun, and she's telling you to shut up. I'd do as she says." The more Dorien looked at him, the more his skin crawled. 'Come home', he'd said. Aster knew him. Knew him unfortunately very well.
"Alastor Grey? That old fool still sending kids to do his grunt work. And he's got the nerve to judge me…" the man said with a smirk, eyes still on Aster, "Shouldn't be surprised he ended up with you. You always were a little--"
The report sounded from the gun and the man dropped with a sudden weight as blood burst from his calf. Cradling it, he whimpered.
Breathing out shakily, tears falling now, Aster shook her head, "He told you… To sit."
"The difference between you and Grey is that you exploit children for your own pleasure, while he makes it a point to teach us how to fight people like you," Dorien commented coldly. He defended Grey out of reflex, out of a belief that as terrible as he could be, that Grey was truly the lesser of many evils. Alastor Grey did have a tendency to pick up 'pupils' when they were relatively young, which Dorien could easily admit, but he also knew he had a thing about children in general. A bizarrely twisted need to protect in a convoluted way. It was why Grey had picked up Tommy and Dorien both when they were at their most vulnerable. This man, though? He had none of that.
Dorien held a hand out to Aster, turning to look at her. He wasn't going to make her pull the trigger the last time. He remembered that conversation from years ago, after her first mission, that she'd thought for a long time she'd killed one of her foster fathers. He wouldn't let her truly kill one of them. He didn't want that to be a weight she bore.
Breathing in again, Aster kept the gun levelled, "Tell him…" She murmured to the man, half sobbing now over his ruined shin bone, "Tell him what you did."
The man sputtered, and Aster took a step, for once oblivious to Dorien's outstretched hand, "Tell him how you would take us and lock us in the basement for days as a time! How you'd starve us and beat us and tell us we were worthless trash no one wanted! Tell him how you'd let the men come and bid on us! And how you'd let them take us away and then you'd pretend like we ran! Tell him the kind of monster you are… and maybe I'll make this quick for you…"
Dorien closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath as she described exactly what the man before them had done. He reopened his eyes, swallowing as he grounded himself again. So much pain, that she'd gone through. For a moment, his own eyes stung, at imagining her being subjected to all of this. Then he placed on a hand Aster's shoulder once again, gentle but firm, as he tried to ground her. Tried to pull her back just a little. "Aster," he said softly, lips nearly grazing her ear as he tried to plead with her. "Let me do it. Please."
"Tell him!" Aster croaked, trembling too much to make use of her aim anymore.
The man wailed, still clutching he leg, eyes wide with fear, "It's true!" He shouted, uneasily, "E-everything she said! It's true! I… I did it! B-but you have to understand! It was just busin--"
Another shot fired, this time striking the shoulder and howling, the man doubled into himself.
"Now tell him how you never traded me. How you said you wanted to keep me all to yourself. Tell him how you told me you were gonna break me in and make me a woman. How you'd never let me go. How you kept me for two years… in that horrible place. The things you did... Go on… Tell him."
Sobs were the only answer, as the man looked up in horror, nodding frantically through gasps of pain.
"I was nine, you sick bastard. I was nine!" Raising the gun again, her finger pressed to the trigger, "Give me a reason not to kill you…"
Horror filled Dorien from head to toe at learning what his man had done to Aster. He hesitated for a split second, debating letting her do it herself. It would be well-deserved. He'd been wrong about the man unzipping his skin to reveal he was a rat. He hadn't even needed to unzip a man-suit to reveal what kind of horrid creature he was. In that moment he hesitated, though, he made a decision. It might be well-deserved, but would Aster be able to live with herself after?
"Aster," he said, voice a little firmer now. He placed a hand on top of hers, fingers curling around her wrist, trying to gently lower the gun. "He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve your pain. He's not worth what you'd be giving," he said, truly pleading with her now as he didn't remove his hands from where they rested on her shoulder and on her wrist. "Let me do it. Please."
There was a snap… like waking from a nightmare, a little too quickly, a little too sharply. Her eyes moved to Dorien's, widening slightly, and breath escaping in a shudder, she looked beyond him, to the bleeding man on the floor. Dennis Morton … or whatever name he went by these days… he'd taken whatever innocence she'd had, long ago. But Dorien had a point, and in her grief, in her anger, she could see it…
For a solid moment, she stayed frozen in place, tears streaming, before, with a small sob, she lowered the gun, holding it out to Dorien, instead.
Dorien let out a slow sigh of relief. He gingerly took the gun from her hands, gently squeezing her shoulder in reassurance before he let go. He took one long, lingering look at the rat of a man. He checked his ammo partly out of habit, sliding out the magazine before popping it back into the gun. Could he take the three lives he'd taken, and now make it four? Part of him wanted to, for Aster's sake. Another part just wanted this man to bleed for what he'd done. He wanted to make sure this man would never touch Aster or any child ever again. He was eerily still, before in a swift motion he aimed and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out as the bullet lodged itself in the rat-man's other shoulder.
"I'll tell Alastor you have issues with his management style. You'll be seeing him before long," Dorien commented, "so I'm sure you can have a friendly chat about that." He was going to make sure he got what was coming and then some. Just not with Aster in the room. This guy wasn't worth the pain he'd caused her.
Breathing out the breath she hadn't known she was holding, Aster realized that it was a sense of relief that flooded into her as Dorien mentioned handing things off to Alastor. It occurred to her in that moment, that she hadn't wanted him to do it… To kill Dennis. Not when all that meant was another death on his conscience.
Without a word, Aster turned and grabbed the door handle, swinging it open to leave, suddenly desperate to be out of the apartment. Out of the building. Anywhere but where she was…
Outside, she felt her legs wobble, and caught herself on a metal trash can, holding on tightly.
Dorien looked back behind him as Aster slipped out the door. He tucked the gun away again, careful not to let the barrel of the gun touch skin, before following her out the door. "Hey," he said softly as he caught up, gently putting a hand on her back as she braced herself on a trash can. He almost asked if she was okay, but stopped himself. Of course she wasn't.
Shifting swiftly, Aster didn't speak, but threw her arms around his middle and clung, clung tight, as a sob escaped, burrowing into his shirt, into the warmth and safety of the only rock she'd every known. And she quaked like a leaf in a hurricane, there.
Dorien stumbled back as she crashed into him, but he curled his arms around her before long. He held her tight as she shook, only after time had passed did he move. Even then, it was only to change how he stood, so he could stay there as long as she needed. "I'm sorry," he said softly, despite how often Aster told him to stop apologizing for the things he couldn't control.
"I-I don't wanna see him…" She whispered, voice still trembling with emotion, with pain and anger and confusion, "Alastor. I don't wanna see anyone right now. Please. Just… just take me home?"
"Okay," he said softly. "We don't have to." Dorien held her close with one hand, using the other to very quickly slide out his phone to text Alastor with a very brief rundown of where the target was and what state he was in. It was all that was needed. Dennis Morton would be taken care of before long. "You have any preference on what I cook?" he asked as he started to pull away.
"I'm not hungry…" She muttered, shaking her head. "Could… could I stay over, Dor? I… I don't think I can handle alone, right now."
Dorien was surprised to hear she wasn't hungry. Every time he'd offered, she'd practically bolted into his apartment to eat. "Yeah, of course you can stay," he said. "You're always welcome to."
"Thanks…" was all she said. She felt silent after that and remained silent as they left the scene… Silent as they drove. Even when they'd arrived, she said nothing… It was only when they'd entered and she shrugged out of her jacket and shoes that she spoke, looking to Dorien with a frown, "Could I… could I use your shower? I just… I need to wash that off…"
Dorien didn't break the silence. He didn't dare to, for fear that the silence wouldn't be the only thing that broke. As they slipped into his apartment and he took off his own shoes and jacket, he took in the tiny details that had changed in the years since he'd met Aster. Paintings on the walls, a few new photos that included Aster, and a sketchbook full of Aster's face on the table. He was incredibly grateful that in particular was closed as they walked in.
He looked over at her. "Yeah, of course. Do you need anything…?" he asked after a moment. Jamie was definitely asleep by this point, and she'd want it back, but he could probably snag a shirt and pants if Aster wanted.
"Nah… I'll be alright." She answered, faintly, "Towels still where they usually are?" She was already moving towards the bathroom, and had the door closed by the time he'd confirmed. She wasn't gone long. She had no real desire to be on her own.. In her mind, she felt trapped in the past, and washing it down the drain was only the first step.
When she's shed the grimy feeling with the scent of citrus, she stepped out and grabbed a towel, wrapping it tightly under her arms. Hair piled up in a bun, taking one last lingering, resolute breath, she stepped out of the bathroom, "Hey, Dor… Borrow a shirt?"
"Last I checked," was all Dorien got out before the door closed behind her. He stood awkwardly for a short while, not entirely sure what to do with himself as he waited. He settled on plopping down on the couch, sock feet propped up on the edge of the table, as he doodled in his sketchbook. He hadn't been sitting long when Aster returned, and he looked up as she stepped into the room.
He swore his brain broke in that moment. He could've smacked himself for thinking, for just a few seconds, about how gorgeous she looked. It wasn't worth it, given everything that had happened tonight that led up to this moment. His brain seemed to unfreeze after a solid couple of seconds, and he jolted up to close his sketchbook and place it on the couch. "Right, yes. Give me a moment," he coughed, slipping into his bedroom. "Any preference?" he called back to her, trying to ignore the heat burning in his cheeks.
She caught the color in his cheeks, the sudden swiftness in his movements and for a moment… just a moment, that maybe she'd been wrong. That maybe there was…
But as he called out, she found her mind revolving back to what had happened and felt her throat tighten…
Following after him, she leaned against the doorframe, "Surprise me."
Dorien reached into his closet blindly, pulling out a dark grey shirt. "NASA shirt it is," he announced. It was a little old, and loose on him even still. He figured it would fit Aster with no problem. He turned to hand it over to her, a little surprised to see her hovering in his doorway. She'd seen all his ridiculous space merchandise a long time ago, but it didn't stop him from giving her a sheepish smile.
A brow rose as she looked up at him, and for a moment, she nearly stopped herself… She should have. But she couldn't. It hurt. To think. To feel. And she just wanted something else… Anything else… To take that away.
"Do you want me, Dorien?" She asked, with no more inflection than if she were asking what the weather was…
Dorien blinked at her. Had he heard that right? "...Run that by me again?" he asked, confusion playing very clearly on his features as he held out the shirt to her.
Straightening, she continued to watch him, chest tightening even as resolve crumbled beneath emotion, "Do you… want me?"
Dorien was silent for a good moment, working his jaw as he decided how to answer that. "I want you around," he said after a brief period of silence, "because I care for you very much. I want you to feel better than what you do right now, and I'm happy to be the support you need when you need it." He hoped that was what she meant. He dearly hoped that was what she meant. That when the words "do you want me" came out of her mouth, it was because she was feeling like she wasn't wanted. She was very much wanted in his life, but he knew all too well that your own brain could be a liar sometimes.
Blinking, Aster breathed out, and nodded, slowly… "Thanks… for the shirt." Reaching out for it, she turned back and returned to the bathroom and as she closed the door behind her to dress, she leaned against it with a small, stifled sob.
It was a minute or two before she could control herself enough. She slid the shirt on, hug up the towel and slipped out into the living room again. Moving to the couch, she sat, curling up her legs and pulled the shirt over them, her chin resting on her knees.
"...I'm sorry, Dor…"
"Of course. No problem," Dorien answered as she took the shirt. As she walked away, he drug a hand over his face, not quite able to get rid of that slightly nervous feeling that had been bubbling up ever since Aster asked him that question in his doorway. He took a breath before padding back into living room.
He moved his sketchbook, putting it back on the table, as Aster joined him in the living room on the couch. He gave her a confused look as she spoke. "What for?" he asked sincerely.
"...Everything." She murmured, shaking her head, "...All of this. I… I wasn't expecting it. I wasn't ready for it. That… if you hadn't… and then I come here, and I throw myself at you like a friggin'..." Rubbing her hands over her face, she shook her head, "...I'm a mess right now."
"Haven't you been telling me not to apologize for the things I can't control for a few years now, Aster?" Dorien asked with a sliver of a smile. "It's alright. Given everything that just happened, you are more than entitled to be a mess. And Aster?" He gently pulled her into a hug. "You are definitely wanted. I care about you a lot, and I do want you around, okay? Whatever bullshit that guy used to tell you, about you being worthless...he's wrong, okay?"
Curling into his side, Aster gripped his arm where it came around her, and leaned her forehead into in with a small sigh, "How the hell do you hit it right on the end of the pin, Dor? Like… every time. You see right through it… Can't even front. Makes it hard to be a badass, you know?"
He curled his arm around her to hold her close with a small smile. "It's a gift," he joked shaking his head. "Besides, you're plenty badass. You can still take me down if peanut butter cups get involved."
"Damn straight, I can…" She answered, with a little move conviction. Straightening, she shuffled so she could lean back into his hold, her head dropped to his shoulder, "Hey… Dor?"
Dorien rested his head against the top of hers. He stayed there a moment, eyes closing briefly, before they opened again as she spoke. "Yeah?"
"...Please just stay… right there? Okay?" Letting her own eyes fall closed, she breathed in softly, "Just… just hold on, please?"
Dorien let his eyes close again, content to just sit there with her. "Always," he answered in a murmur.
__
"Hey… Dor?" Aster's voice split the silence in the cell as she lifted her head from his arm, her eyes opening briefly, "...D-do you remember… the last job we did? The one with… you know… the rat-man?"
"Yeah, I remember," Dorien answered, cracking his own eyes open to look at Aster. "Why?" he asked, brow furrowing.
Sitting up on her elbow, she smiled faintly, almost conspiratorially, "...I just realized I never gave you back your shirt… The Nasa one." Why she thought of that now, she wasn't sure - maybe because it was the last time, really, that they'd been together in any sort of peace… maybe because she'd give anything to go back to that, "...By the way… now that the cards are out on the table. When I uh… ridiculous threw myself at you? Were you tempted?"
"I'm definitely getting that back from you," Dorien snorted, having honestly forgotten about the shirt. He smiled up at Aster, having not moved from where he was laying down. "Tempted by what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, half teasing. "I seem to remember you asking if you were wanted." He felt his face grow warmer just at remembering that particular incident. "Which you were, and are."
"Mmm…" Shaking her head, she gave him a look, "As I recall… that's what you derived from the whole thing. And just cause you were right, doesn't mean you were… well, completely right. I was in a towel, after all. So…?"
Dorien laughed nervously, eyes averting. "I definitely remember that part, too," he added, referring to the towel. "You remember how I pretty much leapt off of the couch when you came in?" he asked after a moment. "That...was because I wanted to smack myself because I thought you looked gorgeous, but I didn't feel like it was the right time to really think that, given what you'd gone through earlier that night. That...kind of applies to what you're asking about."
"...I'm taking that as a yes…" She murmured softly, and leaning in, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, before resting her forehead to his, "...Dor… You didn't see her, did you? That girl…? The one they're looking for? They're not gonna find her, are they?"
"If we hadn't had that incident with rat-man? I'd have been a lot more tempted. But I never wanted to take advantage of you," Dorien admitted softly. He then closed his eyes. "I didn't see anything. Just...darkness. Nothing. It was like I was blocked," he said, shaking his head. "I think he broke them. My powers. I've never had… never had that happen before." He kept shaking his head. "They're not going to find her, not based on what I said."
"It's okay…" Her voice dropped to a whisper, tired, but as reassuring as she could make, "...I know you tried, Dor… and it's okay. Whatever happens to me. I know you did everything you could. Gave everything you could. I… I've made peace with it. What's coming. I'm not gonna let him break me. I'm not gonna let his win… Even if this… this is it. He doesn't get that from me." Opening her eyes, she met his gaze, "If I had more time… I would show you how much you mean to me… N-not just cause I fell for you, Dor. But cause you… you're my anchor. You're my strength… and you make… you make everyday bearable. You gave me back my life… so way I see it, it belongs to you, anyway. And that bastard up there can't have it."
"It's not. It's not okay," Dorien said softly, choking up a little. "You deserve your happy ending, Aster. And this? This isn't that. I…" He took a breath, eyes closing as he cradled her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I wish I could do more."
He'd been on the verge of saying more when there was noise at the door. The jingling of keys, the thunk of a key in the lock, and few brief seconds of soft fiddling with the combination on the lock. There was a final thunk as the lock released, and then the door opened.
"You've done so much, Fish…" She answered softly, even as the keys hit the lock, "Baby… you've done everything. It's okay. You're it. You're my happy ending…" Sitting up, she turned to the door, breathing in as deeply as she could, praying she could hold onto the strength she'd just preached…
Dorien's face twisted with sadness, eyes stinging, as he held onto her those few moments longer. He sat up as well, afraid of what was in store.
Ultimately, what was in store was dinner. The woman from the front desk, Helona, held the tray of food for the pair of mutants in the cell in her hands. In one hand that she braced the tray on, she gripped the keys like a weapon. "Dinner is served," she said dryly, setting it down.
Blinking, floored by the normalcy of what the woman said, Aster straightened, reaching for Dorien's hand, her own shaking with adrenaline, "...D...dinner? What? Where's Jackson?"
Dorien squeezed back, even as he stared at Helona in confusion as well. There was a faint flicker of relief, but still mostly confusion. They weren't coming yet? Had they actually found that girl, despite the odds?
Helona shrugged apathetically. "He's out. Food poisoning. I told him not to eat the eggrolls," she answered. She stood, quiet and still for just a moment, before her gaze locked with Aster. "In fact, if I were you, I'd check the bread, too." Her voice was low, but the words were clear. There was something grave about her tone.
As soon as she'd given her warning, she turned for the door, keys still grasped in her hand. "Don't be late," she added, voice a mere whisper. Her expression changed for the slightest moment, as if in apology, before it was gone as soon as it came. She slipped out the door and it closed behind her. The door clicked and that was all. There was no jingling of keys or click of a lock. Just the sounds of footsteps down the hall.
Looking to Dorien, Aster continued to stare in confusion, having barely taken in what had just happened before the woman was gone again. Food poisoning? Eggrolls…? Bread? Her eyes moved to the tray…
"Did she say don't be late? … Late for what?"
"I...I have no idea," Dorien admitted, staring at the door. "She...she said to check the bread? What the hell does that mean?" His own eyes strayed to the tray, locking into the innocent enough looking roll, before looking back at Aster. He stood to grab the tray.
"...Why do I feel like we just got the wrong cell's code or something?" She asked, with a small frown, "Wasn't that Kane's secretary…" A brow rose and she sat up, "Oh geez. Do you think he'd poison us?? And she was trying to warn us…?" But what did 'don't be late' mean?
"That was definitely weird," Dorien admitted, glancing back at the door, a little unsure if he was just dreaming. It was starting to feel a little like one. "I saw her when Kane first brought me in, not much after that, though," he mused. "Poison doesn't really feel like his method. He made it pretty clear he was putting bullets in us when he was done." He made his way back to the cot, setting the tray in between them, before looking up at Aster.
Sitting up again, Aster reached for the roll suddenly, and with a frown, held it between her hands before looking to Dorien with a brow raised, "...W-what if…" Breaking it in half, she held it out to him, "...Dor…"
There was a tightly rolled piece of paper, a little ripped at the edges, stuck into the hollowed out center of the roll. The pocket had been made through a roughly finger sized hole in the bottom, where the bread had been squashed flat inside it's round shape to hold the note.
"Check the bread," Dorien breathed before sliding out the note. He hurriedly unrolled it, heart beating faster as it revealed words written in pen in a slanted scrawl. It wasn't the first guess for a secretary's handwriting, but it would certainly do. The inside of the note read like this:
'Wait roughly 5 minutes after food has been delivered. Door unlocked. Go directly to first elevator and up to ground floor. Will stall guards. Use second elevator. Go out door to the left. Small time frame. Move quickly. Sorry for the wait.'
"....Oh my God." Breathing out, oxygen suddenly difficult to grasp, she stared at the note in pure shock, "...Oh… my God. Dorien! W-what? Is…" Staring at the door, she shook her head, "Is this a joke? What??"
Dorien was silent for a few good moments as he fought to process. Was this...a way out? Was this how they got out? Either it was, or it was a massive joke and they'd face something even worse. It was worth the chance… It had to be. He looked at the door before meeting Aster's gaze. "Either it's a joke...or that door is unlocked," he said softly, eyes wide. "Let's test it."
It made no sense. Why would someone help them? Why would anyone help them? This was Kane's place… Kane's world, and they weren't guests. They were prisoners, and he had every intention of making sure they died there. So why…
But why lay a trap for the inevitable? Why play games at the last minute?
Nodding, without questioning, Aster rose to her feet, "...Let's do this."
Dorien curled the note up again, shoving it into his pocket as he stood as well. "You think it's been close enough to five minutes?" he asked as he crossed to the door. He turned the handle, and pushed it open. It was unlocked.
"...Oh God…" Aster whispered, sticking close to his side, her fingers curling into his free hand, "This is real, Dorien. This… this is really happening. W-what do we do??"
He clasped her hand in his, breathing out as the door opened. "We get out. I remember which way Jackson took me in the first time, in case we can't use the door the note mentions," he said, turning briefly to grin at her. His head was pounding, and the floor felt a little like it was tilting beneath his feet, but he didn't care. This was the closest they'd come to getting out. He wasn't going to waste it. "Follow me," Dorien said before taking off into a run, hand still grasping Aster's, as he headed towards the elevator that would take them to the next floor.
Nodding, Aster tucked close to him. She wouldn't dare let go. Not for anything… They were getting out. Dear God. They were getting out… and she wasn't going to hesitate.
Dorien ran to the elevator, jamming his thumb into the button and praying there wasn't anyone on the elevator. The doors opened and they slipped inside. Pressing another button on the inside, the doors closed again, bringing them up to the next level. After a beat, the doors opened. A woman's voice started to filter its way toward them from one of the hallways that branched off of this one.
"-was sent a notice from Kane that he wanted this done, because he's out of the office with his daughter today. If you want to take it up with him yourself, more power to you, but I personally like having my head attached to my body."
Gripping his hand tighter, Aster held her breath as the elevator rose. Closer and closer and closer… All they needed to do was get outside and they could run. God, would they run. But getting there was the hard part..
"That's her!" Aster whispered, at the voice.
"This is my post! It makes no sense why all the sudden the guy wants me down in B-Wing on Garage duty? You sure you got that right, Helona? I like having my head attached, too." A second voice responded, gruffly.
"Ever since Jackson got sick, we've been trying to shuffle people around to cover all our bases. I'm doing what I can where I can. Kane said he needed someone in B-Wing so that we can cover the rest of our bases," Helona huffed. "I don't come up with this shit. I'm just the messenger. So yeah, Anderson, I'm sure I got that right."
Dorien nodded at Aster's whisper. That was definitely her. He crept forward, slowly and carefully. They'd have to pass by the hallway the two voices were coming from if they wanted to get to the next elevator. The only problem...was that the woman didn't seem to have much luck convincing the guard to leave. He kept moving forward, slowly but surely, though before long, he'd be close enough for the guard to notice.
Aster's grip tightened as the voices closed in, and her heart began to pound. If the doors opened and they were seen…
"Damn, fine…" The guard said, with a small, dry laugh, "Not tryin' to piss you off, Helona. Just don't need to get chewed out, again. I'm goin'... I'm goin'." The sound of footsteps receding followed, heavy and hard, in the opposite direction of the voices.
Dorien crept forward, stilling as he listened to the footsteps that started to walk away.
"Thank you," Helona called after the guard, sounding both relieved and exasperated. "Remind me next week, and I'll buy you dinner." She sighed softly, and just behind her back, she clutched a small remote trigger. She hadn't had to use it, thankfully. She tried to discreetly poke her head out into the hallway to check on the escapees' progress. The camera loop she'd asked for from the Underground to cover her tracks would only last for so long. She needed them out the door.
"He's gone…" Aster breathed, and catching Dorien's hand again, she nodded, "This is it. She said there's another elevator, right? You ready…?" If it was a trap, it was a trap… nothing they could do. Nothing they could do, anyway. They had to try.
Dorien nodded. "I'm ready," he said. It was now or never. So, with that in mind and her hand in his, he took off in a sprint, careful not to drag Aster off her feet. He raced towards the second elevator, working off his memory of when he'd first been brought in. So close. They were so close.
Using the momentum he built, Aster nearly slingshotted herself forward as they neared the elevator, pressing the call button as quickly as she could, "Come on… come on… Faster." she hissed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Come on, come on," Dorien echoed, pleading with the elevator. He threw a worried glance behind him, to make sure no one had entered the hallway. The elevator doors finally opened and he flung himself inside, breath shaky as he jabbed the button to go up, wishing the doors would close faster.
Nearly plowing into Dorien as she clambered after him, Aster breathed in and out, sharply, trying hard to fight the panic building in her chest. They were so close. If something went wrong, now…? "This is real…" She whispered, "Tell me this is real, Dor…"
Dorien caught her as she nearly rammed into him, a giddy sort of anxiety building in his chest. They were close. Just the next stop and through a door, if the note was to be trusted. So close. "This is real," he breathed, squeezing her hand. "It's real." Then the doors opened.
She felt frozen, her legs afraid to move, afraid to step forward. If this was a lie… if it was a trap, she'd never recover her hope. It would die long before she ever did. But it had to be real. Because she'd told him. She'd told him everything in her heart, and all she wanted more than anything in the world was a chance to love him. To really love him.
Taking his hand, she looked up, nodded, "...Time to run, Fish."
Dorien grinned at her, almost despite himself. "Time to run," he confirmed, briefly shifting back on the heels of his feet before throwing himself into a sprint once again. The door to the left, the door to the left. That was what the note had said. He kept running, running and running, until it came into view. It was some sort of backdoor, away from where their exit would immediately be noticed. Their exit. They were almost free. Almost free.
Her chest ached, her hands were shaking uncontrollably, her head pounding, but God, they were so close… so close. She expected everything to go wrong in that moment. For everything to fall apart. She expected bars to crash down and alarms to sound and guards to swarm… It was surreal, when it didn't happen. The door burst open, and fresh air filtered into her lungs for the first time in… days? Weeks? How long had it been, anyway?
Doubling over, heaving in gasps of air, she braced for a moment, dizzy with adrenaline.. They… were out…
It felt surreal. It felt like a dream. Dorien was tempted to pinch himself, but if this was a dream, he didn't ever want to wake up. Not after this. Not when this felt like such a victory. He threw a glance back at the door, gasping for breath, before looking back at Aster. "...Do you still know how to boost cars?" They were out of the building. Now they just needed to get away from it.
Straightening, nodding, not trusting herself to speak for a moment, she moved away from the door, away from the building. When she could control her breathing, she gestured to a lot across the street, "...Should be able to find something in there…"
Dorien took a brief moment to kiss her forehead, unable to stop himself. Then he nodded. "Then let's go," he said. He started towards the lot, throwing one last wary look back at the building. One more look at hell itself.
The kiss was fortifying… Clarifying. Her mind cleared, her heart steadying, as she followed after him. Inside the garage, she looked around, finally settling on a rather nondescript looking sedan not too far from the exit. There was some security monitors, but the sedan was parked in what appeared to be a blind spot, and there guard tower was far enough away that she could've broken a window and not been noticed…
As luck would have it… The security in the parking garage had put some sort of false sense of reliance in their poor driver's mind. The door was unlocked, and slipping inside, Aster nodded to Dorien, "Keep your eyes open. Shouldn't take too long…"
Dorien nodded. He stood watch as she slipped inside, scanning over the parking lot as she worked. It felt strange, being free. However long it had been, however much time had passed, it was enough to unsettle him when he was outside again. He was outside. They were outside. They were free. They just had to go, and they could be safe again. That wary elation built up in his chest again, threatening to spill over. He should wait, keep watching until Aster was done and they were ready to go. They weren't free just yet, but it felt like it.
As she fiddled with the wire beneath the dash, trying to keep her hands from quivering, she looked up now and then, praying that the uneasiness would go away eventually… that she could stop looking over her shoulder. How long would it feel like they were being hunted? How long would she need to have to ask Dorien to keep watch…
Sparking the wires together, the engine hummed to life and sitting back, she smirked, before sliding over to the passenger side, "All you, Dor…"
Dorien breathed in awe as the sedan started up. "You're a miracle, Flower Girl," he told her with a wide smile before jogging around the front to slide into the driver's seat. He thought back briefly to when Asher had first brought him in. "Not getting out, my ass," he snorted, still grinning as he pulled out of of the parking space. Asher hadn't hidden the route, hadn't covered his eyes. He knew the way back.
She laughed. It started small, before it became something bright, and full, and shaking her head, she swatted at him, "Stop! You cannot hold that against me! You can hold… literally anything you want again me… but not that! How was I supposed to bank on Kane's friggin' secretary getting us out with some crazy… dinner roll… subterfuge. Oh my God…" Leaning back, she rubbed her hands over her face, "Dor… we're out…"
"I absolutely can. In fact, I will," Dorien grinned, snorting as she swatted at him. "I'm telling you, every murder mystery that blames the butler is wrong. It's the secretary. It's always the secretary now. The secretary is pissed and gunning for vengeance, and she's gonna pop something in the rolls," he continued, cackling all the while. It felt like his face was going to split, with how wide his grin was, but he couldn't stop. "We're out."
Her hands were shaking again, heart pounding, as adrenaline gave way to emotion, but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep it together, "Where do we go? W-what do we do, now?" They couldn't exactly just pop back into their normal lives again… not when Kane was sure to come after them…
Dorien sobered a little, taking a breath. They couldn't go back and pretend nothing happened. He honestly didn't want to. Kane had found them there the first time, and at this point, he didn't even want to face Alastor. "We'll head back," he started, "and we'll pack bags. We'll grab the stuff we need and the stuff we can't live without, and then we'll leave before anyone knows we were there again. We...could go to a hotel, just to go somewhere safer than home."
There was a flicker of relief when he didn't suggest what she'd feared, which was going to Alastor. They'd been taken, and it was horrible, but if there was an upside it had given them a chance for freedom from their menace of a boss, as well… They were being given a blank slate, but she hadn't been fully convinced Dorien would take it…
"Sounds good. Got some money stashed away… We should be good for a few days…"
It seemed to hit Dorien full force after just a moment. Not only were they free from Kane, but this was the first time in 9 years that Dorien could see a way out from Alastor's grip. He didn't have anything that Alastor could take this time around that hadn't been taken in some other way. He'd need to call Jamie, whenever they got somewhere that wasn't the apartment, but they had a chance to slip away. He tucked that revelation away for later, when he wasn't driving and carefully going the speed limit. No need to draw unnecessary attention and get pulled over after all of this.
He nodded at hearing this, taking a breath. "Good. We'll figure it out from there."
Nodding, finding it suddenly harder to breathe, for the idea that they were actually getting out… That the manic grip life had on them was loosening… and they had a chance at real freedom… a chance at real living.
There was a fear still, that somehow Kane would've prepared for the worst and they'd suddenly find a sea of guards outside the apartment building, but she knew the woman that had helped them escape wouldn't be so reckless. There were no interruptions, and as they abandoned the Sedan in the parking lot, wiping it down, they went inside for their things. All Aster needed was a small tin from behind hallowed out brick in the wall, that she tucked into a messenger bag with some clothes, before grabbing a certain sentimental t-shirt and slipping into the sanctity of a familiar jean jacket. Snagging two baseball caps, she slid one on, and back out in the hall, popped the other onto Dorien's head, "Can't ID us if they can't see our faces…" She murmured with a smile, "You got what you need?"
Dorien slipped into his own apartment, hopping over where he'd left his painting when he'd first been brought to Kane's facility. He paused; there was no possible way he'd be able to take his paintings, regardless of sentimental value. He'd come back for them, one day. For now, though, he'd settle for snatching up his sketchbook and a couple of pencils. Shoving them into his backpack, he grabbed his phone and a change of clothes that he also shoved into his bag. Bending down in his bedroom, he carefully unstuck his own envelope of money from the bottom of his dresser, putting it into the bag as he stood up. He took a moment, taking one last good look at the apartment that had been his home for so many years. One day, he'd come back for his stuff. Right now, he wanted to move, so that even Tommy wouldn't notice they'd been back.
He slid into the hallway, startling a little as Aster popped a baseball cap onto his head. He grinned at her. "Yeah, I've got what I need," he answered.
"Then we're good to go.." She slung her bag across her shoulder, wiggled his cap further down over his forehead and with a grin, gestured to the door, "I shouldn't be happy about this… I know I shouldn't, but God, Dorien… do you know what this means?"
"Mexican food? Canoodling? Tell me when I'm getting warm, Aster," Dorien snorted, slinging his own bag onto his shoulder as he started to move towards the door. "What does it mean?" he asked, more sincerely this time, as he looked over at her.
"Ha! I was talkin' more long term, Fish… But I see where your brain's at…" She gave him a wink and a nudge, before sliding her hand into his, "It means we're free… Free of that bastard Kane. But… but free from Alastor, too. We… we can do anything. Be anyone… anyone we want."
"I just think a small celebration is in order." Dorien stuck out his tongue at her, his fingers threading through hers as she grasped his hand. His smile grew soft. "Yeah, we are. So, Aster," he asked, "who do you want to be, and where do you want to go?"
"We… are going to… a fancy pants hotel… and we're gonna order room service… and we're gonna wear white fluffy robes…" Turning, she looked up at him with a soft, gentle smile, tapping him on the very tip of his nose, "I dunno all that, yet… All I know is I wanna be yours…"
"Absolutely. The fluffiest white robes," Dorien answered, returning her own soft smile. He bit his lip at her last words, ducking his head. It all still felt the tiniest bit surreal, the fact they were together, and they were free. "So long as you'll have me, I can make that happen," he assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Looking up at him, her smile warmed, and she took his hand again with a small laugh, "Right… because I'm ever gonna let you go, Fish? Come on… No sense planning the future if we stand around throwing it away…"
"Fair enough," Dorien laughed, shaking his head. "I'm just glad I'm part of that future, Flower Girl. Really."
__
After driving and trying to look up a decent place to stay on his phone, Dorien had finally pulled into the parking lot of a hotel. After a bit of haggling at the front desk, which was essentially dropping extra money so that the clerk was disinclined to ask for ID or tell where they were, he'd trudged up the stairs with his bag in hand to their room. Inserting the keycard into the door, which unlocked with a beep, Dorien grinned over at Aster from underneath his baseball cap.
"Holy crap, man…" Aster stepped into the hotel room, turning her hat backwards, so she could take in the room, "This is what it's like to be fancy, huh? This is… whew… Person could get used to these digs." She grinned, turning to Dorien, "I'm still waiting to wake up…"
"I think so," Dorien answered, grinning back at her. "You know, I think I can understand why people like money," he joked, having shut the door behind him, as he stood to take in the room. "Honestly, if this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up."
"Yeah...I'm good being stuck, here, too…" She mused softly, and crossed the room, she peeked into the bathroom, "Holy cow… the size of that shower. I think in a room that big…" Blinking, she gestured, "And there's robes! Oh… I'm never leaving." Moving back to Dorien, she wrapped her arms around his waist and breathing in, taking it all in, she leaned her forehead to his shoulder, "...I don't want it all to be a dream, Dor…"
"Oh, definitely. I think… hold on. Is that…? Yep, that's the bed, calling my name," Dorien chuckled, dropping his backpack beside the door as he strode further into the room. "Ooh, how big is it?" he asked her as she mentioned the shower. His arms wrapped around her in return. He rested his head against hers, eyes closing as he slowly let the tension out of his shoulders. They were okay. They were safe for a little while. They were free. "I don't either," he admitted in a whisper.
"I think…" Sliding away, she smiled faintly, "I'm gonna hop in that massive beast of a shower… Got a lot to wash down the drain before I can properly enjoy any of this…" Biting her lip, she reached up to tap the brim of the cap he wore, "Get comfy, Fish. And miss me while I'm gone…"
"Have fun, with all that room," Dorien told her, shaking his head "...You know what I forgot? My citrus soap. Maybe they'll have fancy citrus soap in there," he mused after a moment before the grin returned. "Oh, I'm definitely going to miss you. You could spend years in there, and not see all of that shower, I bet. Try to come back to me, Flower Girl."
"Always, Fish…" She noted softly, before heading to the bathroom, door closing behind her. There was no citrus soap, but there was a steam function she fully intended to fiddle with at some point, and enough room for bike laps… but ultimately all Aster wanted was to scrub away the days of torment and agony and let the world start fresh again. When she felt somewhat refreshed, bruises and aches aside, she wrapped a towel around her and breathing in, opened the door again, eyes finding Dorien with a small, easy smile, "Well… that was worth the extra fifty we had to bribe that clerk with…"
When she came out of the bathroom again, she'd find Dorien sprawled face down on the bed. He hadn't disturbed the covers, instead laying on top of them. He'd originally been tempted to doodle while she showered, but as soon as he flopped down, he was hooked. "That's good to know," he said, lifting his head enough to look at her. "I think the bed is worth the extra fifty too, and I haven't even lifted the covers yet." His voice was a little drowsy as he continued. "It was calling my name Aster. Now I can't get up. It's got its hooks in me."
Smiling faintly, Aster pushed off the door jam, and moving closer, sank down onto the edge of the mattress, fingers raking back her damp hair as she nodded, "Ah. Yep… this is definitely not the worst feeling in the world. I understand your predicament…"
Dorien snorted, shaking his head. He buried his face back into the comforter, having put his glasses on the nightstand. He hummed contently before sighing. "It's a really big predicament," he said, voice a little muffled. "I don't wanna move."
"You real sure about that, Fish?" Aster asked, looking down at him with a small, innocent smirk, "Maybe wanna reconsider the living-dead lifestyle a little while longer?"
"That's not a fair comparison," Dorien said, lifting his head and turning to look up at her from where he lay. He sighed, "I'm going to have to get up. I feel gross in about 20 different ways. But it's so sooooft…."
Laughing softly, she swung her legs up onto the bed, holding her towel so it didn't shift and having him a nudge with her foot, "...Go. Shower. It's for the good of mankind, Dorien Willis. I believe in you…"
Dorien answered her with a defeated groan as she nudged him. "Help me, Aster. You're my only hope," he murmured before grinning at her. "Save me from this soft temptress."
Dropping down onto her side, she let her cheek fall to her hand, braced up by her elbow as she gave him a look, grinning faintly, "...You talkin' about the bed, still, Fish?"
"...I think so," he answered. "Though the fact you're looking at me like that, and not kicking me off the bed isn't doing much for my resolve either." He sighed after a moment, pushing himself up and sliding slowly off the bed. "I'm going to go see this shower that's worth the extra fifty. See you soon, Flower Girl," he added, pressing a kiss to her forehead before slipping away to the bathroom.
"Hurry back.." Aster purred, with a small laugh, "Even though it's like Narnia in there. Seriously. Don't get lost, Fish!" Flopping onto her back, she sighed softly… contently… waiting for him to return.
Dorien laughed before closing the door. After he peeled off his clothes, he turned on the water. Slowly but surely, he felt the tension bleed out of him. She hadn't been kidding about it being like Narnia, but he was more concerned about washing away the last few weeks. So much pain, so many people either hurt or dead because of him. So many times his skin had crawled from just being in the same room as Kane. He took a little longer than he would have otherwise, taking the time to scrub away as much as he could. By the time he'd wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed one of the very fluffy robes for good measure, the water pressure had left him feeling a little like a jelly. He wasn't tense, though, that was for sure. He stepped back into the room, smiling as he spotted Aster, before making his way to his bag for the change of clothes.
Sitting up at he emerged, Aster watched him for a minute, and couldn't help the small smile, as she looked him over, before with almost a demure chuckle, she lowered her gaze, "...Nice, right? Never been hugged by a shower before, but that felt pretty damn close…" Biting her lip, she looked up again, "...Throw me a shirt, Dor?"
"Very nice," Dorien agreed with a nod. While he clutched the robe in his arm, he wasn't wearing it, leaving what did happen to be covered to the imagination. As he bent down to grab something from his bag, leaning in a little closer to see without his glasses, he turned his head towards Aster. "...Yours or mine?" he asked with an amused smile and a raised brow.
Swinging her legs around, she sat on the edge of the mattress, her smile softening as she shook her head, "What do you think…?" His were always comfier, anyway…
He rolled his eyes in response, half expecting she'd outright ask him for one of his. Not that he was complaining, he just wanted to have a shirt left that she wouldn't eventually take for her own. He pulled out a dark green t-shirt, tossing it to where she sat on the mattress. Turning away from her, he pulled on underwear. He dropped the towel before shrugging on the robe, too. "Aster," he said, pausing entirely. "You've got to wear one of these."
Biting the edge of her lip, Aster caught the t-shirt, but her eyes didn't shift from Dorien as she shook her head, watching with a small laugh when the cotton robe encapsulated him, "Didn't grab mine… Wanna bring me one, and I will…" She answered, bringing his shirt up to her face to breathe in the scent of oranges.
"It's so fluffy," Dorien breathed, though he complied and slipped back into the bathroom to grab another robe. He huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he came back to see her bury her face in his shirt. "Note to self. Buy my usual soap," he commented, handing her the robe as he sat down beside her on the bed. "Because I might smell like a very nice flower right now, but it's not what I'm used to."
"Oh… You definitely need to buy your soap. I'm not gonna be able to handle you smellin' like flowers… Luckily there's enough lingering, I can deal for now…" She set the shirt down and taking the robe, Aster rose to her feet. Turning her back to Dorien, she dropped the towel without a second's hesitation, before casually, and with no great deal of energy expended to rush she slid on the robe, "...Hm. You're right. Comfy."
"It's going on the list. I've got to keep smelling like citrus, or you'll just take all my shirts instead," Dorien laughed. It changed abruptly, taking on a more nervous tone, as she dropped the towel. He turned his head, coughing into his hand, as he kept his eyes averted. He knew it probably shouldn't fluster him, given that they were together now, and he honestly expected that it would come with the territory. Still, he felt heat creep into his face as he glanced down at the towel. "Very comfy," he agreed, voice soft.
Tying the robe off at her waist, Aster looped her hair up into a bun on top of her head, and turned around again to face Dorien. Reaching out, she brushed a fingertip down his cheek, "You're pink, Fish… Gonna need to change your nickname to Salmon?"
His breath caught in his throat as he felt her finger on his cheek. He swallowed, looking up at her from where he sat on the bed. "Really? I didn't notice," he murmured unconvincingly, though his voice was surprisingly steady so far.
Meeting his eyes, that fingertip trailed further, catching the collar of his robe, and running along the edge, she shook her head, "...I thought we were done, Dor. I really did. I thought… when… when that secretary unlocked the door? I thought that was it. I still can't get it out of my head, how close we came. I don't know… how to reconcile everything that happened, but I do know I never wanna waste so much time again. I spent years dancing around my feelings… and I almost lost you… I'm not gonna make that mistake, ever again." knees sinking down to the edge of the bed, she hooked his jaw with her finger and turned his face to hers, "...I love you. So much… I really do."
"I...I thought so, too," Dorien admitted. He'd thought it was over, when the woman had walked in. He thought that Kane had decided he'd had enough, and came to put a bullet in Aster. Came to put a bullet in both of them. His heart slammed against his ribcage as she trailed her fingers down his neck, down his chest. He braced his hands on either side of her waist as she sunk back down onto the bed, breath shaky as she hooked his jaw, eyes flicking between her own gaze and her lips. "I love you, too. So, so very much," he told her in a whisper.
Fingers winding back to the nape of his neck, she sighed softly, and leaned forward, close enough to touch the edge of his nose with her own, "...Hey… Dorien? Question for ya…" She whispered gently.
"Yeah?" he breathed, eyes so very close to closing at feeling her fingers on the back of his neck.. So very close to being able to tilt his head just a touch and kiss her. "Go ahead and ask."
Breathing in softly, her teeth pinched the edge of her lip, fighting a smile as she looked up through her lashes to catch his hooded gaze, "...Do you want me?"
He smiled, an airy laugh slipping through his lips. "That's a trick question," he said after a moment, moving a hand from her waist to cup one side of her face. "You already know the answer." He leaned forward slightly, gently pressing his forehead to hers. "Yes." The words were more air than voice, barely audible, but they were there.
Heat folded around her skin, her cheeks faintly pink as she lifted her other arm to meet the first, and with a subtle pull, shifted one leg over his, settling into his lap, "God, I was hoping you'd say that… I'm yours, Dorien Willis. Every bit of me…"
Dorien chuckled, as he pulled away just enough to bury his face in the side of her neck, gently pressing kisses there. "I'm not the only one who's a little pink now," he commented. "I've got a quick question for you, Aster Corson. Are you going to snap me like a pencil?" The words were out before he could even consider stopping them, though he grinned as he slid a hand into her hair.
Laughing, louder than she meant to, Aster shook her head, and pulling back just slightly, she shook her head at him, "Depends, Dorien. Mechanical or wooden?"
He snorted, "Either one. Let's just go with wooden for now, though." As she pulled away, he looked up her with a soft smile full of affection.
A brow rose at his response, but rather than say anything, smiling faintly, Aster leaned in and pressed her lips to his, fingers winding through his hair.
Dorien returned the kiss, humming softly, before pulling away. "You'll have to guide me," he murmured, lips brushing against hers as he did, "tell me what you like. Because if I get every bit of you, I want to do it right."
Breathing in, Aster's eyes opened again, and her smile shifted, almost sheepish, "...I… I don't know, Fish. I… I've never… I mean…" Biting her lip, she lowered her gaze, "Never been my call, you know? Till now…"
Dorien's smile turned tender as she admitted this. He gently brushed away a stray piece of hair from her face. "Okay. We'll take it slow, and figure it out together." He pressed another slow kiss to her lips. "Promise."
"Hm…" Sinking into his touch, her eyes fluttered closed, and gently, she pulled herself closer again, "...I like the sound of that… together…"
__
Time shifted in movement and color, in weeks and years, and in breath taken and given… and then in stillness, Aster crashed beside Dorien, her fingers winding waves and curls along his bare shoulders, her heart still fluttering as she smiled faintly, wearily, cheek against his chest, "...Wanna know something, Fish?"
Dorien held her close, his arms wrapped around her as his chest rose and fell. He wore a soft, pleased sort of smile as his own heart began to settle. His fingers still grazed over her skin, as if unfamiliar with the concept of not touching her now. "Of course," he hummed, soaking in the warmth of skin against skin.
"You're kind of incredible…" She mused, and her chin rested against him as she looked up to meet his gaze, "I mean… not just… you know… but… Whole time I've known you, I've been slutted out to you by Cal, threw myself at you like a drunk sorority chick… and you never once took advantage of that. It was easy… falling in love with you. And I don't know if it's possible to be more grateful that we got away… because if I'd never gotten the chance to fully love you? God… what a waste that'd be."
"You're going to make me vain, Aster," Dorien teased, though the smile stayed on his lips. He shook his head. "I never wanted to take advantage of you. It wasn't worth it, especially not with how much you've been taken advantage of the rest of your life. It wasn't worth it, because you deserve to have someone who wants all of you and is willing to wait for that."
'Respect above all.' It was one of those little lessons his parents had imparted on him before he lost them. It was the reason it was such a treat to watch his parents when he'd been younger. His father treated his mother like she was the world. And Aster certainly deserved that and so much more. "I'm glad, though. That we got out and got this chance, because as far as I'm concerned," he continued, "this is only the beginning."
"OH… it's absolutely only the beginning…" She teased, with a small laugh, "Cause that was incredible, too." Biting her lip, she studied him for a minute, "...I feel like… like I've known you so long, but there was so much I was always afraid to ask. So much I was afraid to get into… cause… cause I didn't want to slip, you know? To let you know too much." Sitting up, she pulled the sheets around her, shaking her head with a small sigh, "God… it sounds so stupid, now. Saying out loud. That I was afraid to tell you how I felt. I wanna know everything, Fish. All of it…"
Dorien wheezed a laugh. "I meant...I meant that it was the beginning. The beginning of us[/]." He gestured at the two of them, as a sort of clarification. "The next chapter for us, I guess." He tilted his head, shifting slightly under the sheets, as he looked at her in confusion. "What do you want to know?" he asked before snorting. "You want to know something more stupid? I...I didn't think you felt the same way, for a while. It's why I never said anything, never did anything different. Because I thought it was just...you. Just how we were as friends. Turns out, you knew you had feelings loooooong before I got smacked in the face with mine."
"I tried to make it obvious, but…" She teased, grinning lightly, "...I dunno… Stuff like…" Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she considered for a moment, "...What's in the sketchbook? I never looked. Always wanted to, but I dunno… it just seemed more personal, you know? Than the paintings…"
"Yeah, I'm not saying I wasn't oblivious," he snorted. It was so painfully clear, looking back. Then again, he'd just thought that was her. That was who she was and what she was like. That she flirted and interacting with her was just...easy. "The sketchbook?" he asked after a moment, '...Do...do you want to see it? It'd be easier, than trying to explain."
"I should've just told you… I think about it now and I just wanna kick myself. I was just so scared of losing the only family I've ever had…" She frowned for a moment, but as he continued, her expression brightened, and biting her lip, she nodded, "I do! Show me…"
"I told you before, Aster. You're not getting rid of me that easy," Dorien teased, shaking his head. "It's alright. I kind of like how it happened, in a way. Take out the threat of horrible and painful death, and I might even like it more." He pressed another kiss to her lips before sliding out from under the sheets to grab his sketchbook from his backpack. He grabbed the robe that had been chucked off to the side earlier, deciding against totally baring himself to the world. He crouched over his backpack before pulling it out and making his way back. He settled back onto the bed, handing the book to her.
Watching his as he crossed the room, Aster smirked faintly… Even with the robe, it was a nice view, but when he returned, she sobered, and taking the book, she curved the sheets beneath her arms so she could free her hands, before opening it. Slowly, pensively, she rifled through the pages, "...Oh, wow…" Taking her time, she studied the pictures without words, turning pages only whens she'd grasped every detail. It was only when she came to the later pages, that her expression shifted, and breathing in sharply, she felt her eyes mist, her fingertips delicately glancing over the edges of the portraits….
"...T-these…" Looking up, warmth in her gaze, she shook her head, "...These are of me?"
Dorien tried to settle as she flipped through his sketchbook, though he couldn't quite get comfortable. He felt vulnerable and exposed in an entirely different way. This was baring his soul, his nightmares and insecurities. "Yeah, the beginning is...dark," he admitted. Art had been his way to let things out, and the things that came out weren't always so pretty. He laughed nervously as she reached the section that was just...her. Endless sketches of her. Different poses and angles and variations, all of her. He looked away, a little embarrassed. "Yep, those are of you."
Shaking her head, eyes still misty, Aster gently set the book down, before shifting forward, her arms looping around his shoulders, hugging him tightly, lips finding his without mercy. When she pulled away, her smile was warm, "...I don't understand how it's even possible… but I'm pretty sure I just fell more in love with you, than ever. They're beautiful, Dorien. I-is… is that really how you see me?"
Dorien's eyes fluttered shut as he melted into the kiss. He'd rested his fingers on the nape of her neck when she pulled away. He smiled at her as she spoke. "I had a beautiful model," he joked before sobering up at her question. "I...yes? Yes, that's how I see you."
A tear rolled out, and Aster swiftly brushed it away with her hand, "My whole life, Fish… I've been an object to people. Just something they could use and discard… Hell, even Alastor acts like I'm some kinda tool. But you? You made me a person, Dor. Something real and important… beautiful." Leaning her forehead to his, she let her eyes fall closed, "Do you even know how wonderful you are? For all life threw at you… keeps throwing at you… you're still… God, you're magnificent."
Dorien smiled softly as she pressed her forehead to his, eyes closing for just a moment. He reached up, cradling her face in both hands. "Because you are, Flower Girl. You are real, important, and so very beautiful," he breathed, an airy laugh sliding out soon after. "I certainly try, to be magnificent." He kissed her lips before pulling away again. "Hey, Aster? I've got a funny question."
She'd never felt it. Not until right then… But God, was it an amazing feeling. Opening her eyes, her smile softened as she nodded, "Shoot, Fish."
"Is Raphael still your favorite Ninja Turtle? Or have I convinced you Donatello is the best one?" He'd just managed to stifle his laugh. It probably just completely ruined the mood, but here he was. "Because for all you've said bad boys are your type," he continued, giving her a significant look, "you didn't exactly end up with one."
"Ha! Nice try, nerd…" she teased, with a brilliant smile, "He's still the best. You're just one of those… I dunno… closet bad-boys." Poking him in the ribs, she laughed, "Donatello?? Really? Just cause we're an 'us' doesn't mean I've gone crazy."
Dorien laughed, shaking his head. "A closet bad-boy. Okay then. I guess that works," he said with a playful roll of his eyes. "Hey, look. Donatello is still doing his best. He's a good turtle man," he protested, squirming away a little as she poked him in the ribs.
Grinning, she shook her head, "Giant nerd…" Sitting back again, she studied him for a moment, "Where'd you even come from, Dor? Hmm? You don't seem half real, sometimes. I know you are… but… there's just something about you that's just so… surreal." Rolling onto her stomach, she reached for where his shirt had been discarded earlier, alongside her robe, and pulling it on, she curled up next to him, "You hungry?"
Dorien snorted in reply. "Yeah, but I'm your giant nerd now," he grinned back. "And how am I surreal?" he asked after a moment, head tilted. He shifted a little under the blankets to allow her closer as she curled up with him. His arm wrapped around her again, just before he nodded vigorously. "Oh God, yes. Do you think monster burritos are part of room service in fancy hotels like this?"
"Haha.. probably only if they're stuffed with nasty stuff like caviar and … goat cheese or something. But we can take a look." Turning over again, she opened the bedside drawer and pulled out the menu, "Oh… snap, Dorien. Pancakes… You know how much I'd kill for pancakes, right now?"
"Ew," Dorien made a face at the idea of caviar in his burrito. There were things not made for mixing, and as far as he was concerned, that happened to be a few of them. "Oh, let me see," he said, shuffling a little closer and resting his chin on the top of her head. He squinted, to try and see the menu clearly without his glasses. "If you want pancakes, I say go for it."
"Wow…" Looking up at him with a small smirk, she shook her head, "How blind are you? If that menu gets closer to your face, it'll become part of your face...I want pancakes… and… ooh, yes… orange juice. And pie…"
"I'm not that close," he protested with pursed lips. "And very blind. I didn't get the eyesight in this family, unfortunately." His eyes were able to focus after a moment. "Though if I can taste what's here that way, I'm not opposed to having a menu face." He laughed, "Pancakes and pie is such a well-balanced meal. We should throw some ice cream in there for good measure."
"You… are pure genius! Ice cream, too…" Grinning, she tipped her head back to look up at him, "I'm in a relationship now, Bucko… I'm allowed to let myself go, right? Those are the rules? So don't get used to this gorgeous body… Downhill from here…"
"That's what I'm here for. Fantastic ideas," Dorien answered, returning her grin easily. He purred softly, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "I doubt it's downhill. Because this body?" he continued, curling an arm around her a little tighter. "It's always going to be gorgeous. It's yours." He snuggled up to her, though that was probably a dangerous game, considering that after everything he could feel himself getting drowsier and drowsier. His resistance against sleep was getting weaker, and curling up with Aster was bound to make him pass out at some point.
Grinning, Aster ran her fingers through his hair, shaking her head, "...Mm… We're supposed to be focusing on the menu, right now, Fish. Gonna get me all riled up again, you keep talkin' about me that way." He curled closer, and she breathed in, "...One time, and you're already hopelessly addicted to me. This is gonna be a problem."
"Would you prefer to be on the menu right now?" Dorien asked with grin, burying his face in her neck. "Because I'm trying to focus on it. I swear." He hummed contently as he felt her fingers on his scalp. "Aster," he breathed, "I was hopelessly addicted to you a long time ago."
With a laugh, Aster tipped her head to the side, giving him access to her neck with a small purr of enjoyment, '..So you're trying to tell me I'm an enabler? Hmm… I think I could actually be okay with that. And suddenly, I'm having difficulty remembering what I wanted to order. What's food, anyway?" Shifting, she tugged herself closer, stealing a lengthy kiss, "...Scratch that. You're the enabler."
"You're definitely an enabler," Dorien chuckled, pulling away from her neck. He returned the kiss, eyes sliding closed, and they didn't open for a short while after Aster had pulled away. "Oh, so now I'm the enabler?" He smiled, amused with the sudden change of enabler status. It would be easy to curl up like this with her, to cuddle and slowly drift off. The problem with that, as much as he liked the idea, was that he didn't want to fall asleep. He didn't want to close his eyes and wake up to find this was all a dream. The idea that they'd gotten out, that they were free, was just starting to really sink in. He didn't want to open his eyes and find it all gone.
"Come on, baby…" She mused, tapping his chin, "Stay awake and we'll order. Haven't had a decent meal in a long time…" Reaching for the menu, she gave it a wiggle, before smiling, "You know you want some pancakes… You know you do."
"We really haven't," Dorien murmured in agreement, though he didn't disentangle himself from her just yet. He should probably be grateful to the rolls, considering that they'd saved the two of them, but he was still pretty sure a brick was softer. He reached up for the menu as it wiggled. "I do. I really do. God, I don't remember the last time I had pancakes."
"Pancakes it is, then… and we'll eat till we're too fat to move." Grinning, she kissed him again, more tenderly this time, before giving him a gentle, playful shove, "God, Fish… you're relentless." Reaching for the phone, she plucked it off the cradle, pressing the button for room service, "Anything else?" She asked, covering the speaker.
"That sounds like the absolute best plan," Dorien told her with a grin, smiling into the kiss before she tried to shove him off. "You bet," he told her, staying exactly where he was, which was wrapped around Aster, though he loosened his hold so she could order. If she asked if there was anything else, he replied with "Just orange juice."
Nodding, she uncovered the speaker, and when the room service team answered, she relayed the order, before replacing the phone on the cradle, "Twenty minutes…" She purred, leaning into him again, "...What shall we do for twenty whole minutes…?"
"Probably nothing inappropriate," he answered with a chuckle as she slid closer to him once again. "I don't want to scare the room service team off just yet," he hummed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before gently pressing more to her cheek and jaw.
Laughing, she curled closer, "Fine, fine… snuggling it is." Arms looped around his waist, she sighed softly, "...So… Fish? The uh… the other drawings. Those were pretty intense, babe. You wanna talk about it?"
Dorien grinned at her, more than happy to just lay there for a while. His expression grew a bit more serious as she mentioned the other drawings. He glanced over at this sketchbook, which had been abandoned after Aster had found the near endless sketches of her. He sighed, "Yes and no? If that makes sense. I just...nine years working with Alastor took their toll, I guess." He snorted, shaking his head. "Hell, I'm talking to the person who probably understands that the most, and I still can't quite....get the words out."
"No…" She nodded, her fingers weaving lines along his collar bone, as she smiled faintly, dryly, "I get it. Even if you can't explain it, I get it. It's so… trying. Every minute of it. Like… being pulled in a hundred different directions. I knew it was wrong… that he was wrong, and what he was making us do was wrong. I knew that he was manipulating me. But then… I saw this hope in it, too. Like I could have something real. Something decent. And when we actually went after the scumbags? It felt… it felt good."
"I felt like I was getting dragged by marionette strings," Dorien admitted, shivering a little as she traced lines on his collar bone. "I thought I was moving on my own, when I first started. That it was all my choices. Then I started figuring out I was just playing to his tune. I had leeway, so much leeway looking back at it, but there were still strings."
He shook his head, taking a breath. "I took a lot of solace in the fact that when I hurt people at his command, it was always someone worse than him. He was a big fish, protecting territory from other big fish. He had a certain moral code, however twisted, that other people wouldn't have if he disappeared. So yeah, I get that. I get that it felt...a little like justice when we went after certain people."
"But it was still… so wrong." Frowning softly, she curled her fingers around his jaw, "He used us, Dorien. Whatever he might've wanted to be, he used us and he hurt us. And I'm not sorry that we got away from him. Maybe there was a part of it that felt like family, but it wasn't… it just wasn't. And now? Now we got a chance to be a real family…"
Dorien's eyes closed, fluttering a little as she held his jaw. "You know what the worst part is? I feel for him. I sympathize with him. Because do you remember those little moments of pride? He'd give you this look, like you'd done something good, and he was so, so very proud. He did care, even in the most twisted, screwed up way, and I hate it. Because he used us, and he hurt us, but sometimes you could forget when he acted like a father," he said, breath shaky.
"That's what scares me, Aster. The thing he wanted most from us? He wanted to be a father. He'd act like it, too. It was mostly before you joined us, but it was there the whole time. The pride, this look I think could border love, the desire to protect us from everyone else but him? That was genuine. He manipulated us with it, but it was genuine." Dorien's eyes stung as he continued. Once he'd started to explain, the words came pouring out. "It's why he held onto me for nine years. Because to him, I'm his son, and sometimes, I almost believe it."
Sitting up a little, she met his gaze, brushing her thumb over his jaw, "Sad part is, he was probably the best damn father figure I ever had, Fish…" Shaking her head, she leaned in, kissing his jaw, "But you deserve better, Fish. You do. You deserve a family that doesn't try to manipulate who you are… what you do. You deserve a family that protects you. Cherishes you." Smiling faintly, she shrugged, "Maybe we both do, you know?"
He looked up at her as he felt her thumb slide over his skin. "Don't ever let him know that," he whispered. Alastor might have suspected it, but he shouldn't hear it from Aster's own mouth. "You definitely do, Aster," he said softly. "You deserve that kind of family, maybe more than I do. I had that once. Hell, I still have Jamie." He had a family like that once, that loved him more than anything, and then he lost his parents. "You deserve that and so much more."
Curling against his chest again, she let his fingers slide down the stem of his neck, along his arm before curving into his fingers, "...You don't even know, Fish… the sort of good you deserve. You're the only reason I kept going… and we're just gonna have to accept that you're spectacular, okay?" Brushing a thumb along the spine of his knuckles, she frowned softly, "...Y-you never told me about them. Your parents…"
He laughed, gently sliding his hands up Aster's back. He brushed a thumb gently over the side of her neck as she curled against him once again, before pulling one hand away as she linked fingers with him. He gently squeezed her hand. A pained expression passed over his face as she mentioned his parents. "I don't...really talk about them to anyone," he admitted. It hurt to talk about them, even after 10 years had passed. "The woman, in my sketchbook before you reach the sketches of you? The one with the braids? That's her. My mom. I draw her sometimes, when I think I'm starting to forget what her face looks like."
"Y-you ever want to?" She asked softly, gingerly, almost as if she were afraid to, "Talk about them? Cause… you can, if you want, Fish. Open doors, you know? It's okay if you don't want to, either. But I'm here for you…" Pulling his hand close, she kissed the knuckles, "She was beautiful… Looks a lot like Jamie, but you have her eyes…"
"Sometimes," he admitted. There were places on that topic he wasn't quite ready to go to just yet. That last day in particular. He smiled as she told him she was there for him, and he gingerly touched his forehead to hers. He looked down, not quite meeting her eyes. "She was a lot like Jamie, honestly," he started, choking up a little at Aster's comment.
"She...was probably one of the fiercest people I know. One of the smartest, too. She...We used to joke, that she was a human computer. If painting is my calling, then numbers were hers. She was the go-to for any and all math homework." He couldn't help the dry sort of laugh that escaped him. How long had it been since he'd thought about her, without worrying about how much he would've disappointed her?
"She sounds wonderful, Fish. I'm sorry… that I never got a chance to meet her. You and Jamie… you deserve better, you know? You deserve so much better. I hate that life screwed you over so bad…" A sigh escaped, and she pushed upright, "If I could change it for you, Fish… I would."
"It's alright," Dorien said softly, gently brushing his fingertips over Aster's cheek and down jaw as he looked back up at her. "It's not your fault. I appreciate it, though." He gave her a small smile. "Life hasn't screwed me over enough to keep me from you, and at this point, that's really all I can ask for. All I'd want to ask for, beyond Jamie being happy and safe." His gaze shifted as she sat up, though the soft smile stayed on his lips.
"Damn, Fish…" Winding her arms around his neck, she leaned in him again, "If I'd known you were such a smoothie, I'd definitely have told you how I felt years ago." Blinking, she hooked onto his words, frowning softly, "We gotta find her. Jamie. Let her know we're okay… Poor thing's probably terrified."
"A smoothie?" he echoed with raised brows, biting his lip as he fought a laugh. A thought then seemed to hit him. "...Oh my God. I'm with you and didn't introduce you to my mom first. She's trying to punt me from the grave. I can feel it." His expression faltered. "We should. I wonder, if she'd even answer her phone if she saw my name pop up. She might think it was someone trying to find her through my phone," he said, sighing and dragging a hand over his face. "I know she can take care of herself, mostly because she kept telling me that herself… but I hope she's alright."
"Hey… Technically, you introduced me, when I saw those pictures in your apartment, right? So you should be good and unhaunted." Grinning, she poked the tip of his nose, before sitting up, "Can't hurt to give her a call. I'm gonna get dressed, so the room service delivery boy doesn't fall hopelessly in love with me, like you did…"
"I suppose, technically, I did," Dorien mused after a moment of thought. He wasn't sure about how unhaunted he'd be, but he'd have to see. "I should probably do that. Try to figure out where she is, if nothing else." He laughed, shaking his head as he started to sit up as well. "We can't have that. There's only room for one hopeless man in this bed with you," he teased, pressing a kiss to her lips.
"Mmm…" Grinning at his as she returned the kiss, she shook her head, "Damn straight there is…" Rolling over, reluctantly, she rose to her feet and moving to her own bag she fished out a pair of pajama bottoms, sliding them on, "Once we figure out where she is, we could head out that way, I suppose. Makes sense, to keep moving, right?"
Dorien grinned up at her before reaching over to the nightstand for his glasses. He blinked as the world came into focus again, relieved that he could see clearly. "We probably should head out soon. Maybe get some rest first, but definitely keep moving. Grey might not know yet, but he'll find out. And Kane...he'll be slowed down without me there, but I'd rather not wait around," he reasoned, sliding out of bed as well. He'd need to grab his phone to call Jamie, and that was somewhere under the clothes he should probably put on too.
"So we'll eat… actually get some rest, and then we can get moving again." Smiling delicately, she gave him a once over, before shaking her head, "...If I can exhibit some self control for the next few hours, anyway." There was a knock, and Aster tensed for a moment, before breathing out, crossing the room to peer through the peephole, "Robe tied, my darling… Room service is here." When Dorien was fully decent, she opened the door, she stepped back to allow the man to wheel the cart in. After hand over a tip, she pushed it over to the table near the windows, "You think Alastor will come lookin' for us?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," Dorien commented, having missed most of Aster looking him over once again. He snorted at hearing her comment. "You weren't kidding, when you said you'd have trouble keeping your hands off of me," he teased. He froze at the knock, already in the process of making sure his robe was tightly tied. He wasn't fond of the idea of getting caught with his pants down. Or off, for that matter. After the cart entered the room and the door was once again closed, Dorien nodded. "Yes." Alastor would be coming after them, sooner or later. "As far as he's concerned, we're his."
"Fantastic…" Aster said, with a small, sly smirk, "I always love the idea of being hunted down by not one, but two endearing psychopaths." Raising her glass of orange juice to Dorien, she shrugged, "To being on run, but who the hell cares as long as we've got each other, right? I love you, Fish… I know I've said it, already. But… There it is again."
"It's a real treat, though if we're being honest, there's only one that can even pretend he's endearing. Kane can buzz off," Dorien snorted, raising his own glass to her. "To being on the run, together," he said in response. "I love you, too, Flower Girl. Feel free to say it as often as you want, because I know I am. I'm going to be your broken record."
"I don't think Kane actually possesses the ability to care about things. He's… God, he's scary." Frowning, she shook her head, "I'd take Alastor over him, any day. And yay… we get both." Laughing dryly, she took a drink anyway, "I like the sound of that. My broken record. We got this, Dorien… I think… and hey, even if we don't, when have we ever, before, right? Still made it this far."
"I'd be surprised if Kane has anything resembling a soul, but you know, who am I to judge?" Dorien shrugged. "You know it's bad when Alastor Grey is the lesser of two evils." He shook his head, giving a low whistle before taking a sip of his own orange juice. "That's true. If we don't have it, then we'll figure it out." He gave her another warm smile. "Together."
"Definitely didn't see much soul in those eyes, anyway…" She agreed, but as his words, she warmed, and her smile spread as she gave him a firm nod of agreement, "Together. Always…"
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
Watcha Doin'Collab || Wing and ElleBesides the frantic pace and ultimately swift change of plans, things had gone relatively smooth as far as Helona was concerned. It was why she was anxious, the muscles of her shoulders like rocks as the clock ticked down. It was almost time. The mission she'd begun so long ago, as the mole in Jeremiah Kane's operation, was at last coming to an end.
After she had seen out the pair of mutants that had been held hostage, it had begun a frantic race against time. First, it was to rush back downstairs to lock the door of the holding cell and then make her way back to her office before the camera loop she'd asked of the Lusus Naturae ran out. Then, it was to pack away any and all personal effects that she'd need once she had left. She'd kept her office largely barren of any meaningful items. Little customizations here and there, trinkets she kept in order, but ultimately there was little she kept there that she couldn't stand to part with. All of those particular items were already packed away, ready to head back to the Underground with her.
Shortly after she'd discovered Phaedra's abilities and she'd set up her plan to free the tracker and the woman that had been held captive, she'd sent a message off to Rett Munroe. It was simple and brief despite being coded, ultimately stating that circumstances had quickly changed and that she planned on leaving for the Underground again on Monday, with plenty to tell once she'd finally returned. She had debated a handful of times over whether or not to message him again. There was nothing meaningful she could add, no reasonable excuse to give him another update that wouldn't be something she'd already stated. So she left it alone, letting the days pass by in her feverish pace to prepare to disappear. And she did plan to disappear. She'd set out on erasing all trace of herself and covering her tracks these past few days. Before long, she'd be little but a memory to Kane and his crew.
It was why when Helona detached the bug from a very specific place close to Kane's desk, it felt as if all the pieces had begun to fall into place. She slipped from Kane's office, into her own, quickly gathering her meager things after slipping the bug and the device that stored away the months' worth of audio that had been recorded into her pocket. Her plan was running smoothly. She was nearly done. She just needed Phaedra here, so that she could get her to safety. Then, she could worry about Nora Kane. First and foremost was getting Phaedra to safety. Then and only then could she worry about all the rest. Still, the time weighed heavy on her shoulders as she sat in her chair, ready and waiting. Soon. So, so very soon.
Phaedra's arrival was like clockwork as well. She entered the building on her own, and made her way as casually as possible to the elevator that would lead to her father's floor. She'd expected a nightmarish weekend, but what she'd gotten instead was somehow more unnerving. Her father had been cold. Aloof. Tucked away in his private office, he'd worked from sunup till sundown, a machine driven by some primal sense of duty. Only when Sunday evening rolled around did he even acknowledge his daughter's presence, explaining to Phaedra that he had to run an errand and wouldn't see her until Monday afternoon before Asher took her home.
Alone in his home, she thought of Helona. Of what the woman was giving up to keep her safe. She thought of Nick, who hadn't seen his mom for so long, only for her to have to go away again… Of how brave they both must be, of how brave she needed to be.
Which was why on Monday morning as the elevator climbed up towards the office, she clutched the USB to her chest like a pacemaker, determined that Helona's sacrifice wouldn't be wasted. The doors opened and swiftly, but not too swiftly to appear suspicious, she made her way down the hall and into the office antechamber.
"Morning!" She chirped, maybe a little to enthusiastically.
Helona's gaze flicked away from her computer as Phaedra came in, from where she'd been finishing the last few assignments Kane had asked of her. She wanted him to hardly notice she was gone. Papers and reports finished like always, just playing a part as a cog in Kane's death machine. Little did Kane know that she'd been a rebellious cog as of late. She could only imagine the kind of trouble she'd made for him over the weekend. A guard violently sick, two essential hostages let loose only for there to be no footage or sign of them even getting out, let alone how they got out. She truly couldn't find it in her to even be remotely remorseful. Besides, she had plenty more havoc to wreak before she was gone.
"Good morning," she greeted, smile warm. She clicked a couple more buttons, submitting the report for Kane's review whenever he came in. Then she turned from her computer, having wiped everything but the bare minimum of the assignments Kane had given her from the computer. She bent her knee, checking her brace was fitting right. She shifted slightly in her seat, checking the pistol tucked away in a holster inside the waistband of her pants. The recorder in one pocket and a remote detonator in the other, she was ready to go. "Are you ready?" she asked.
Giving her bag a shuffle, Phaedra nodded, before moving closer to the desk, and with a breath, she held out the USB drive, "...Probably better you hold onto this, though. Just in case anything goes wrong."
Helona sucked in a breath, surprise flashing over her face. Her hand seemed to act on its own as her mind caught up, her fingers taking hold of the USB drive. She held it in her hand, eyes wide, before she looked back up at Phaedra.
"Phaedra…" she started, "you...you didn't have to do this."
She wasn't sure what exactly was on it, but she could fathom a guess. Phaedra lived with the man on occasion. It gave her a kind of access that Helona could only dream of. Documents, reports, classified information that had occasionally been kept just out of even her reach. She had a few, from what she'd snagged here and there on the odd occasion she could get into Kane's office. This, though? This had to be everything. Absolutely everything Kane had at home. This more than made these months worthwhile, even after the recordings alone had done that.
"Thank you."
Chuckling dryly, Phaedra shrugged, "...Yeah, I kinda did. If you wanna take my dad down, you're gonna need everything you can get, right? Well… that's everything. Everything he keeps on his personal computer, anyway. But you're welcome… It was kinda easy, once I hacked his password. He's got this system, he told me about it once, after he got into my email account. Books and pages… like a code. Took me a few tries, but I figured it out." Rubbing her arms, she shifted the bag from one shoulder to the other, "Th-that's to thank you, Helona. For helping me."
"No, you really didn't," Helona assured her. Parental loyalty was a funny thing, after all. She didn't have to do this, to get all of this. They could've worked with what Helona had gotten from the recordings and the second flash drive currently tucked away in her car. This, though, changed the game. Everything. The word kept playing on repeat in her head. She nearly smiled; Munroe was going to be very pleased, especially for a man who had been so against her going to begin with. Her attention snapped back to Phaedra, having taken in the words but the weight of them likely not going to hit her until later. "And leave you here? I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "I would've done it regardless. But again, thank you."
There was a teeny tiny problem though. "Are you sure you're okay with this? WIth...everything going on, with leaving, with giving me all of this?" she asked, raising the flash drive currently between her fingers. "There's no turning back, Phaedra. Not after today."
"I know…" She said, softly, her eyes lowering for a moment, "I know. It's just… If… if I don't do this, you know what's gonna happen to me. He's my dad, and… and I love him, because I'm supposed to, but… the things he does. It's wrong. It's all wrong. And he'd do it to me, if he found out what I was… He doesn't care about anyone or anything but his crusade. And I'm not gonna be a part of it, anymore." Giving a firm nod, she smiled as much as she could "Let's do this."
Helona frowned softly. She wanted to believe even Kane wouldn't do that, if faced with his own daughter. That he could see Phaedra, powers and all, and still see his daughter. The problem there was that she wanted to believe it, but she had too many doubts. There was too much room for him to be even worse than she'd imagined. There was too much doubt, and she wouldn't leave Phaedra to reap the consequences with the odds against them.
She stood, slipping the flash drive into the same pocket as the recorder. She tested her knee again, bending for a just a moment to make sure the brace was tight enough. If this all went wrong, if their luck suddenly ran out, then they'd need to run, and she didn't plan on her stupid mistake being her knee acting up. After this, she walked out from behind the desk, giving Phaedra a reassuring smile, before tentatively, maybe even a touch awkwardly, wrapping her arms around the girl in a hug. "I'm going to get you somewhere safe. Promise."
If it was awkward, Phaedra didn't appear to notice. She looped her own arms around the secretary's midsection and gave her a squeeze, "...I know. Thanks…" She repeated softly, before releasing the woman and stepping back, giving her shoulders a small bounce of a shrug, "So… what's the plan?"
Helona pulled away as well, steeling herself. Things were going smoothly, but it always went wrong at the worst possible time. It was something she'd learned and she'd learned it well. She didn't plan on going in blind. Sooner or later, something was going to happen. For now, though, she was steady. Just because she was anxious didn't mean Phaedra had to know. "The plan right now… is to walk out. If anyone asks, if anyone stops us, I left some stuff in my car. You offered to help me grab some of it. Okay?" She smiled one last time as she looked over at Phaedra. "Ready?"
"Stuff in car…" Grinning, Phaedra shook her head, "I'm a lazy teen, but what the hell… Someone'll believe it in a pinch." With a small wink, Phaedra nodded, "I'm ready…" And she was. God was she ready. All she wanted was to get out… to get away, and then to figure out how she was gonna break all of this to her mom and get the woman to safety, too.... Shifting her bag again, she started for the door with Helona.
"Maybe I bribed you with food. Pizza, or chicken wings, or ice cream. I'm trying to remember what my classmates would lose their mind over when it was promised as a end of the year party when I was in school," Helona added with a snort. She took a deep breath before opening her door. She walked out, her pace a little fast but not enough to draw too much attention, as she acted like she needed her keys and pulled them from her pocket.
Laughing, Phaedra shook her head, "Free iTunes card. No teen'll work for food, these days. We've adapted to better routes of bribery." In the hallway, Phae seemed to tense slightly, her heart beating a little faster than she would've liked. It gnawed at her that she was missing something… that she'd forgotten a step or made a mistake…
In the elevator, the anxiety crept in more powerfully, and her heart began to hammer, her temples throbbing as panic threatened to overwhelm. Reaching over, she clutched Helona's hand with a sudden ferocity.
"So you say, but as someone who has been around plenty of teenagers, I have my doubts," Helona huffed a laugh. "We'll say 20 bucks and call it even." She clutched her keys in one hand, face calm and stoney as ever. She felt the tension, too. She'd be oblivious if she didn't, but she couldn't let it stop her now. She looked over at Phaedra, and before she could put her hand on the girl's shoulder, she found it being grasped instead. She gave a gentle reassuring squeeze just before the elevator doors opened.
Phaedra was quiet on the way down, but for the blood, pounding in her ears that she was sure was nearly audible. The grip on her hand was reassuring, but only just enough to keep her from shaking apart. When the elevator doors opened, however, and reality crashed in, tension unwound just enough to allow in a sense of adrenaline.
Then she heard the voice, and nearly leapt clean out of her skin…
"Phaedra? Miss Locklear? Where are you headed?" Her father asked, with a note of uneasiness.
Helona heart nearly leapt out of her throat but she schooled her features carefully and with ease, outwardly as calm as ever. She slipped her hand from Phaedra's gently, turning to face the man. "Good morning, General Kane. I wasn't expecting to see you in just yet," she admitted, an eyebrow raised even as her heart pounded in her chest. Her face shifted a little, turning a little apologetic.
"I...left something in my car. I brought some of my work home with me over the weekend and left it on accident when I came in. I asked Phaedra if she'd be willing to help me bring it in." She held up the hand that held her keys, as if to make a point that she really was just going to her car. She then raised the other like she was surrendering. "It was my fault. It won't happen again."
Kane looked between the two, a brow raised as he seemed to consider the woman's words. There was a strange glint in his gaze, and he seemed to study Helona longer than necessary, before nodding slowly, "...Very well. Please hurry back up. I have several files I need you to transition into the archives."
As he walked past, towards the elevators, Phaedra breathed out, and in horror, slapped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late. Kane had paused, finger on the button, and with a shake of his head, he turned back around, pulling a gun from inside his jacket, "I'm really very disappointed, Miss Locklear. A good assistant is hard to find, and you've been invaluable. You've approximately thirty seconds to tell me what's really going on, here."
Helona noted the strange look, but decided she could ponder over it at a later date. "Of course. Thank you," she replied with a small smile, putting her hands back down until Kane spoke again. Her eyes closed briefly, blood pounding in her ears, before she turned again to face a gun. A litany of curses flew through her head. Could she grab her gun, before he pulled the trigger on his? She took a shaky breath, clenching her jaw before she spoke again.
"I have to admit I don't know where this is coming from, General Kane," she said, a touch uneasy. "I'm sorry, if I've upset you with my mistake. I assure you it won't happen again." The fingers on her free hand twitched, itching for a trigger to pull in case this turned for the worst. "I…" she trailed off, quickly pulling together a lie as quickly as she could to explain Phaedra's relief. "Like I said, I wanted to grab my work from my car. I asked Phaedra to help me. She...confided in me, with a little boy trouble in class. I merely offered my advice. I don't think she wanted to bring the topic up to you. I'm sorry if I've overstepped in any way in doing this." It was smooth, her voice steadier than she felt. But would it be enough? She was staring down the barrel of a gun.
"You really are remarkably good…" Kane answered, without an edge of anger to his tone. It was nearly flat, in fact, but his eyes raged, fire dancing behind the greyish-blue depths, "Whoever you work for, they must be quite proud. You hardly fluttered an eyelash. Never missed a beat. Tell me… Did you they get to you before, or after I hired you?" The hammer clicked back on the handgun, his eyes narrowed.
Swallowing, Phaedra stepped forward, "Dad, please… Please don't do this…"
"...Phaedra. You need to come to me, now. Miss Locklear… if you could step away from my daughter, please."
"I beg your pardon?" Helona asked, allowing her voice to shake now. Bad, bad, bad. She needed to duck, she needed her hand on a gun, she needed to run. Any movement she made, though, could be a signal for him to shoot. So she was still. "I have worked for you for months, General Kane. You said yourself that I have been invaluable. Why are you doubting me now? No one got to me. I am loyal to the right side of this war and always have been. What makes you doubt me?"
She swallowed. "With all due respect, sir, I intend to stay perfectly still. I'd rather not give you reason to shoot. She's welcome to move towards you, though, sir, if that's alright." She sent up a silent apology, to Munroe, to Nick. The last thing they could hear from her was that she was headed back, and then there'd be nothing. They'd just be waiting forever. So much for not being reckless.
"You have been loyal, haven't you… And that's what makes this so… unfortunate. Because there is a part of me that wants to believe you. But I have reservations, and well, you know how I am about those I trust." Looking to Phaedra, he gave her an expectant expression, but Phaedra shook her head, fists clenched at her side.
"No, Dad. I'm not going anywhere with you…" She spat, and for a moment, Kane looked astonished, before the disappointment registered.
"Very well, then." His finger clenched the trigger, and the gun's report echoed through the cavernous parking garage.
"No!" Phaedra's hand shot out, and from the tips of her fingers, the gossamer threads sparked… sparked and grew, a faint, glossy shield - like an enormous glycerin bubble former before Helona. The bullet struck the field and bounced, hitting the ground. Staring, awestruck, Phaedra didn't even noticed the horror in her father's eyes, before the gun turned on her.
"...I knew it…" He growled, pulling the trigger again.
"I do know how you are about that. But just this once, please. Reconsider. My loyalty has never wavered," Helona repeated, swallowing as she did. Her eyes slid over to Phaedra, pleading with her to not stay beside her. Death wasn't a pretty thing. Killing people was never a pretty thing. She didn't need that to be the last view Phaedra ever had of her.
Then there was a gunshot. She tensed, bracing for pain. Bracing for the jolt, for the pain, for the fire. Bracing for the possibility of soon feeling nothing at all. She tensed, but she didn't flinch. She watched, as the shield flickered over her and the bullet bounced off. A breath escaped her lungs, her own horror dawning as she realized Kane had seen. All her worst fears, all her doubts about him, came to fruition.
So she moved. She lunged, though if it was to tackle Phaedra or to shield her with her own body, she didn't yet know. She just needed to get between Phaedra and the bullet. But then the gun sounded again.
A secondary explosion resonated from the gun, and a second shield erupted, but it was small. Too small. Helona crashed into her and Phaedra went down with the woman, hitting the concrete with a small scalded cry. She could see her father aiming again and with a yelp, reached into her bag and snagged the thickest book she could find, winging it at him, "Run, Helona! Run!"
Helona didn't run, even after she'd felt the jolt in her shoulder. It was worse than she'd remembered. It felt like fire and then more than even that. Nothing quite compared to being shot. She'd apologize to Phaedra later, for the impact on the floor. But as soon as she could, ignoring her now bleeding wound with Phaedra having bought her time, she'd twisted around and whipped her own gun out from it's holster. She steadied it, taking those split seconds to focus on her frantic heartbeat. Empty lungs, between heartbeats. So, following that advice that had served her so well as a sniper, she shot back at Kane, aiming between the eyes.
"No!" A third field surrounded them and the bullet Helona fired bounced off the inside of this, as wide-eyed, Phaedra shook her head, tears like gloss on her cheeks, "He's my dad!" She whispered, her words oddly dense behind the cloud of the shield.
Helona ducked as the hot bullet pinged off the forcefield, dropping useless to the ground. She glanced at Phaedra, clenching her jaw. And there it was, that parental loyalty. The sort of loyalty Kane certainly didn't deserve. His own daughter...
Act now, process later. "Then keep that shield up, because we're running," she advised as she brought herself to her feet, hand extended towards Phaedra with her gun clutched in the other.
Despite her hands shaking almost violently, Phaedra nodded, concentrating on keeping the shield in place. Kane had stopped firing, but his eyes were staring with intensity enough that they struck like bullets, "This isn't over!" He called, "I will find you, Miss Locklear. And I will make you very sorry you chose the wrong side…"
Sniffing, Phaedra took Helona's outstretched hand, "I don't know how to move and keep it up." She whispered, "So go fast."
Helona couldn't help the wicked smile that spread over her lips as she stared down Kane, more like she was baring her teeth than she was smiling. "If the so-called right side condones fathers shooting daughters, I don't want to be on it," she snarled as Phaedra stood up. She then nodded, keeping her hand grasped around Phaedra's, before starting to run.
As Helona tore off and Phaedra gripped tightly to her, following along, the shield shattered, like glass, and glittering threads were left in their wake. Kane did not hesitate to squeeze off several more shots, but moving targets in a crowded garage made it nearly impossible to hit anything but Fords and Toyotas. Windows shattered, tempered glass littering the ground, but Phaedra didn't look back, racing alongside Helona with a determination to get to the car.
Helona raced towards her car, her poor old black SUV that deserved the world for all that it had already been through. It seemed as though she was going to put it to the test again. She peeled her hand away from Phaedra's as they finally reached the vehicle, thankful her keys had stayed looped around her finger the way she'd had it when she first encountered Kane. She quickly unlocked the car, all but flinging herself inside. She reached up with her other hand, biting down to hold her gun in place after flicking the safety back on, as she started the engine. She pulled out the remote detonator, putting it on her lap. The engine turned over.
They were almost there… almost out. It hadn't gone without flaw, but they had almost made it. Just a few seconds more… then she could burn it from her mind. Forget it. Let it go…
"Go, go!" Phaedra cried, as she threw herself into the passenger seat. She looked out the window and could see him coming along after them, fast, gun raised, "Helona! GO!"
Helona didn't need to be told twice. She flung back the gearshift two notches. Throwing a single glance backward, she slammed the gas pedal. The car screamed out, the wheels turning sharply as Helona frantically faced them forward. She shifted gears again, tires squawling, until she pressed the gas pedal harder. They tore out of the garage, with the driver clutching the wheel the whole way. She'd forgone her seatbelt, deciding it was a measure that could be taken once they weren't in immediate danger of getting shot.
As they launched towards the garage exit, Phaedra fell back into her seat, shaking hands pooling in her lap eyes staring down at them in a mixture of horror and shock. Tears burned again, but she blinked them away, determined not to let it show… determined to lock it down as quickly as possible. Her father... Her own father had shot at her. Deliberately. Over the years they had never really gotten along, but hell if she hadn't been sure he as least loved her on a paternal standing…
But he'd shot at her…He'd actually done it.
Helona reached down for the small remote in her lap as they hurtled through the exit. Gun still between her teeth, she cast one last glance at the building. Then she clicked the button twice. There was a three second delay then-
BOOM!
The entire facility would've felt the explosion, the shaking that would've rocked through it as a result of the bomb rigged in the information hub room. That'll keep them busy, Helona mused. And to think, Kane had just lost his assistant as well. Despite the triumph, the satisfaction that pooled in her gut amongst everything else, she ended up glancing over at Phaedra in concern. She dropped the remote back into her lap, pulling the pistol from between her lips before she gingerly laid that in her lap too. She wanted to say something, but what was there she could really say?
Phaedra jumped, with a small cry at the sound of the explosion, turning around with the expectation of seeing a rocket or missile launching in their direction. But this wasn't an action movie and her father wasn't Alan Rickman with a German accent. Reality, somehow, seemed more terrifying than anything she'd ever seen on DVD or in the theater…
"...W-where are we g-gonna go?" She asked, as she sank back in her seat, quivering.
Helona winced, at hearing Phaedra cry out. "Sorry. That was me," she said, briefly taking a hand off the wheel to point down at the remote in her lap. She rolled her shoulders, grimacing a little as she did. Adrenaline had dulled most of the pain in her shoulder, leaving it a dull throb with occasionally stinging instead of what it had first been. The fire would be back though. Once the adrenaline faded from her system, it would be back.
"We...are going to meet my employer," she stated, looking over at Phaedra with sympathy in her eyes. She hadn't been trained, had never been taught how to deal with situations like this. She'd been thrown directly into the fire, skipping the pan entirely. "We're going to take a few detours. I don't quite like the idea of leading them directly to the place, especially after all everyone's done to stay hidden. We might make a couple stops, for food and bathroom breaks, since we're going the long way. But...we're going to New York City." She hoped that listening to her talk, that listening to her explain, might help take the edge off of Phaedra's nerves.
"New… New York? I've always wanted to… to go there." She hadn't looked at Helona since getting into the SUV, but as she turned her head the woman, her eyes widened, and she stifled a gasp with her palm, "You're bleeding! Oh my God! He hit you! W-why didn't you… What do… what should I do?"
"Yep. New York," Helona echoed with a small smile. Her eyes flicked down briefly before returning to the road. She'd noted the red that had soaked through the fabric, and the hole that had been ripped through it when the bullet had first gone in. The blood had started to seep lower and lower down her shirt, though her sense of feeling said it had started to dry. It might not stop bleeding for a little while, but it eventually would. That was the assurance she needed. It hadn't hit anything major.
"Relax," she told Phaedra after taking a deep breath. "On the first one of those stops, I'm going to bandage it up and take care of the bleeding until we get to where we need to go. We're not touching it right now, because I'd rather be prepared when it starts bleeding again." She paused, making a face, shifting a little in her seat. "Quick question, though. You don't see any blood on the back of my shoulder, do you?" she asked, tilting so that her upper back was more visible to her, even as the motion made her wince.
Paling slightly, Phaedra looked at Helona turned, shivering at the thought of what exactly she was looking for. There was nothing, however, and somehow, that didn't feel like much of a reassurance. "N-no… No blood. What does that mean?"
"No exit wound," Helona breathed in response. That explained the other thing her sense of feeling was telling her. She'd have to dig the bullet out then. "In the glovebox, there's going to be a bottle of Tylenol. Can you grab it and take out two?" She wanted those to have kicked in by the time she was poking around for a bullet.
"W-what… What's that mean??" Pulling open the glove box, she dug out the pills and popping the cap, distributed two from the rest, handing them over to her, "What's it mean when there's no exit wound?"
"It means there's good news and bad news. Good news is that there's only one wound to deal with," Helona explained. She picked up the pills from Phaedra's hand, waiting just a moment as if bracing herself, before popping the pills into her mouth. She tilted her head back, swallowing them dry, though she never fully took her eyes off the road. "The bad news is that the bullet is still in, and a wound can't fully heal when there's something still in it."
"N-none of that sounds like good news, Helona!" Phaedra exclaimed, hands twitching as she folded them back into her lap, "I have my permit… i-if you need me to drive…" She felt useless, really… completely and utterly useless. None of this was her element. Her comfort zone, but she was going to shake herself apart if she didn't do something.
"I mean...relatively speaking, it's good news," Helona offered. She considered the fact that she might be a little desensitized to it in general, given her past history. "It's alright. Really," she said, trying to be assuring. "I've done this once or twice. I'll be alright." She fell silent for a moment, face pensive. "If it weren't for you though, I wouldn't get the chance to patch myself up. So...thank you."
"Don't thank me…" Phaedra groaned, lowering her gaze to her hands, picking at her thumb cuticle with voracity, "...If it weren't for me you'd still be sitting behind a desk, safe and sound. I could've gotten you killed, Helona. This is my fault."
"Even if the situation with your powers hadn't popped up, I would've never been safe and sound, Phaedra. I was in the lion's den. I volunteered to go, but I still knew that's where I was," Helona said, shaking her head. "Even if he hadn't found out this way, he would've eventually had it come back to me, given the other stunt I pulled this weekend. I had planned to leave anyway. I just got the chance to make sure someone else didn't get hurt when you showed me your powers. So yes, I need to thank you, and no, it's not your fault."
Blinking, tears burning again, Phaedra sank miserably into her seat, sniffing softly, "...He… I… I know what we talked about about. I… I know that it was always a possibility. But I didn't think… He actually…" Looking out the window, she rubbed her arms, "He tried to kill me…"
Another frown graced Helona's lips. "I wanted to believe he wouldn't, too. That when it came down to it, he'd still be able to see you as his daughter," she sighed. "I think, in a way, he still loves you. Loves part of you, anyway. He doesn't...see you the same way now, though. Things have changed for him. He...If I had to guess, I'd say he thinks it's just another enemy trying to infiltrate his life. I know he's your father, but.... You deserve better."
"...I should've let you shoot him." She muttered, picking at her nail until the cuticle pulled up, blood breaking from the side of her nail. A tear slid down and she brushed it away swiftly shaking her head, "Don't even know why I stopped you."
"Yes, you do. He's your dad, despite everything," Helona responded, eyes carefully watching the road even though she wished she could look at Phaedra. "That's a hard thing to deal with, and a rough position to be in. It's a position I shouldn't have put you in. It's okay, to want to protect your family, even when they've done terrible things and hurt you. There's always going to be a part of you that loves them, and it's natural, Phaedra. It's okay."
"I don't want to love him." She hissed, digging her nails tightly into her palms as she shook her head savagely, "I don't want to. I wanna hate him. Like he deserves. Like he does, people like me. Like your son… and those… those poor people he tried to hurt. He's horrible! And he doesn't deserve to be alive, right now."
"Maybe not. Hearts are funny like that. The people we shouldn't love, we do anyway," Helona replied, tone even as her expression shifted. She knew that complaint all too well. Her eyes drifted to the trinkets hanging down from her rearview mirror. The first was a braided cord of leather, decorated with beads. The second was also a cord of leather, though it was far plainer, and it only had a silver ring hanging from it. The creator of the first was someone she was told she shouldn't love, for all that he'd done and for all that he was. The second she'd loved too, even after finding out they'd never work. Even after realizing he saw some people as monsters.
"Playing judge, jury, and executioner is a dangerous game, and it's not fun, Phaedra. Take it from someone who's had lives in her hands. It's not something you want to deal with and be responsible for inflicting."
"I wouldn't regret it." She answered with a bitter note, "How many people has he hurt? And no one does anything about it. I wanna take him down, Helona. I don't just wanna watch… I wanna be a part of it. I need to be. He's the monster…"
Helona bit back a response of 'yes, you would.' She didn't want to get into it, into how even when she knew that the person she took out was deserving of it, it still hung with her. Years would pass, and she would never forget the faces. "Don't become a monster trying to fight another one," she said after a moment. "Even the people that deserve what they get and more, if you're responsible, there's always a part that feels remorse. Maybe not for the person themselves, but because they were a person."
She glanced at a road sign, taking the turn. She didn't want to give Kane a straight shot for the Underground, after all. If they were going to follow, she was going to make them work for it. "People are doing something about it, Phaedra. It's slow going, but with everything I've gotten since I started working for him, with everything you got for me? We'll make sure there's a day he doesn't hurt anyone again. Just...don't let it consume you."
Sniffing again, Phaedra fell quiet, staring out the window as the tears continued to fall, "How does someone get to be the way he is? I don't get it… How does anyone get to be so… horrible. And cruel?"
Shaking her head, she looked over to Helona, "God… I didn't even thank you…"
"Some people are born that way. Some people get molded into that. Some people make themselves that way, for one reason or another," Helona answered. She cast another worried look over at Phaedra, only for her brow to furrow. "Thank me for what…?"
"For… are you serious? You saved me, Helona! Not just by getting me out of there but you… you took a bullet for me. You coulda died. And I…" blinking, she shook her head, "You're worth twenty of me."
"I seem to remember you already thanking me for getting you out. I also remember that you saved my life with that forcefield before that. I consider us even," Helona remarked, a sliver of a smirk at her last comment, before she sobered in an instant. "No. You're worth twenty of me. You've got plenty more life left to live and more to give than I do. You have things that I don't. At least, not anymore.I couldn't let him shoot you. Not when I'd hoped that he-." She cut herself off, taking a breath. "I promised you I was getting you somewhere safe, and I am."
"Me?" With a scoff of a laugh, Phaedra shook her head, "I'm a stubborn brat… with a crappy attitude. I've lived with him for almost sixteen years and never noticed the kind of person he was, because I just didn't wanna see it. You… you put me in a better light than I deserve." With a small sigh, she looked over to Helona, "...Nick know how lucky he is?"
"Yes, you," Helona insisted, all but rolling her eyes. "Like I said, sometimes you love people you shouldn't, and you see the best in them because of that. It's not your fault, Phaedra." Her expression changed again, something more somber and not nearly as readable as before. "For the most part. I think he could've been far luckier, though." To have a mother, to have parents, that could raise him without being his sergeant. That would've been the best outcome.
Shaking her head Phaedra managed a small, weary smile, "I don't. You're amazing, Helona. You're like… Wonder Woman. The way you handled that back there… Like you weren't afraid at all. I thought my head was gonna explode and you just… took it. I'm sure he knows how incredible you are…"
"Oh, I was terrified. I just do well under fire," Helona answered before wincing at her own horribly phrased half-joke. "Also training. Lots of training. The military does things to how you handle a crisis," she added. Her face was still somber though. "I know he thinks I'm incredible. I just… my relationship with my son hasn't always been what it is now."
"At least you have one…" She sighed, rubbing her brow, "Even before he was taking shots at me, my dad was never a good dad. I don't think he even knows my middle name." Turning her eyes to the window again, she frowned, "Would… would you teach me, Helona? How to… to handle stuff like this?"
Helona didn't comment. It was probably better, to try to leave her mistakes behind and simply make up for them and do better in the future. It was hard, though, to not blame herself for what she hadn't allowed Nick to have because she'd been terrified for his sake. She glanced over at Phaedra. "I can...but are you sure you want to? It's not fun, and I'm not… quite the same person when I'm teaching that particular skill." She was sure Nick could attest to that.
Nodding, Phaedra looked to her again, "Yes. I'm sure. I am. I… I was so scared. I'm still scared, and I… I don't like feeling that way. This isn't gonna stop. I'm not stupid enough to think it will, just cause we got away. I wanna know what to do… how to… to protect myself. How to keep other people from getting hurt."
Helona nodded at this. "Okay. I want to give you time to adjust to where we're going first, but I'll teach you," she agreed. "We could probably find someone to teach you to use your powers. Probably not me, given the circumstances, but someone. Depending on how they work, Nick might be able to help, actually."
Blinking, she stared at her hands, as if she'd only just remembered what had come from them, "...I didn't know I could do it like that. I thought… I thought it was just…" Shaking her head, she smiled, "It was kind of cool, right?"
"It was definitely cool," Helona agreed, smile widening as she glanced over at Phaedra. "Have you had breakfast today?" she asked after a moment of silence. There was no way in hell she'd clean her wound in a gas station bathroom, and while McDonald's bathrooms were only marginally better, it might be what she was left with if they didn't run into a rest stop some time soon.
Shaking her head, Phaedra shifted, "I didn't think… I wasn't sure it would be a good idea, with how nervous I was. I still feel kinda… I dunno how to feel, honestly. Jittery?" Rubbing her brow, she sank into the seat, "I'm not sure I could eat."
Helona pursed her lips considering this. "It could be adrenaline and nerves, making you jittery, or low blood sugar," she offered. She tapped her fingertips against the steering wheel. "What if we go ahead and get food? If you still can't eat, we'll just save it," she suggested. Adrenaline and everything that had gone down this morning already could definitely mess with her appetite. The quickest way she knew to test it was for her to be able to smell food, though. "On a scale of one to ten, how conspicuous do you think it would be for me to stitch up my shoulder in the parking lot of a fast food place?" God, she didn't want to go into a public bathroom for this.
Nodding, Phaedra wrapped her arms around herself, "Yeah, I… I guess that's a good idea. You know more about this than I do, right?" Frowning, she ran her fingers through her hair, and at Helona's question, laughed anxiously, "I think probably damn conspicuous. M...maybe if you did it in the hatch?"
"I just know you've got to eat eventually," Helona said, sending a small smile her way. "Adrenaline takes it out of you." She pursed her lips, seriously considering. The trunk was where all of her supplies were anyway. "...It's a better place than a McDonald's bathroom," she mused softly, eyes narrowed slightly as she debated how much she wanted to climb into the back and dig around for a bullet.
"Anything is better than a McDonald's bathroom, Helona." Phaedra teased, with a dry laugh. But the energy was gone from her voice, and the humor ran a little flat as she stared at the seeping wound with a small frown, "...If you talk me through it, I c-could probably help. I know how to sew? Home Ec class…"
"God, tell me about it," Helona huffed her own laugh, shaking her head. She raised an eyebrow at Phaedra. "How squeamish are you? And trust me, this isn't the time to act tough. If you can't stomach it, there's no shame in that," she said. She considered the offer for a moment. "I think...I can handle taking the bullet out and sewing it, because I can see it. Wrapping gauze around it is going to be the problem. I've only got one arm I can really use for it."
"I mean… It… it's not exactly something I'd sign up for doing, but I dunno that I'm squeamish. Got through the frog dissection in biology, alright." She grimaced slightly, looking up again, "Would… would it hurt less, if I help?"
Helona tapped her fingers against the steering wheel again, before taking a turn towards a fast food place. She might as well fix it up in the back of a vehicle. She'd much rather do that than deal with an open wound in a bathroom she didn't know the state of. "Would you say you'd be able to eat even after dealing with the frog dissection?" she asked. Yeah, she didn't plan on letting Phaedra sew her up. She appreciated the offer, but dead frogs were not living people. "...Yes," she admitted with a small sigh.
"I'm not even sure I'm able to eat after thinking about it, Helona. But I mean…" Chuckling, she shrugged, "Is that normal? Eating after cutting up frog guts?" Her expression sobered as Helona answered, and she nodded sincerely, "Then I'll help. I… I promise I won't vomit on you or anything. I just… I wanna help."
"Probably not, especially considering the fact I can do it pretty easily," Helona admitted a little sheepishly. "My brother used to tell me I should've been a surgeon, with how little stuff like that bothered me." She gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I think he just wanted to be related to a mad scientist." She sobered up quickly as well, taking a breath as she parked, to brace herself. Digging out bullets was never fun. Even less so when she had to do it on herself. "Okay," she started. "I'm probably going to crawl back there through the inside, since blood tends to alarm people." She gestured to the rest of the parking lot, which had a few people enjoying their morning meals.
Chuckling, Phaedra nodded, "Sounds like something a brother would say." She'd never had one, but plenty of her friends did, and she knew all too well how awkward it could be, "I'll go and meet you around the other side." With another nod, she pushed open her door and slipped out, taking in a deep, soothing breath, before she rounded to the hatch and pulling it open, climbed inside, closing it behind her.
Helona nodded as well. It was definitely something Alon would say. She kept herself from dwelling on that subject for too long, though. She hoped, that after nearly 30 years without seeing him, that wherever he was and whatever he was doing, he was the same person he'd been and that he was safe and happy. She shook her head, pulling herself from her thoughts, as she clambered through the space between the front seats and over the back ones to sit in the trunk. She found her first aid kit easily enough, grabbing the towel and a water bottle from her small stash of belongings and supplies. She glanced up as Phaedra climbed in, before opening the kit up and finding what she needed. Gauze, needle and thread, and tweezers. Here went nothing. No matter how many times she did this, it never got better.
Nerves took over almost instantaneously, and staring at the woman, Phaedra swallowed a lump in her throat, her eyes moving to the first aid kit… particularly the sharp needle, sticking up like something dangerous and horrifying. But she wanted… no. Needed to do this. She needed to prove that she was capable of something. That even if her father didn't think she was worth keeping around, she could be useful somewhere.
"O-okay. Talk me through it. W-what do I do?"
"Right now, you don't need to worry. I'll need you most after this part. You don't have to watch if you don't want to, either," Helona said. She slipped her shirt over her head, having long forgone her sense of modesty in certain situations, revealing the bloody and puckered wound in the front of her shoulder just under her collarbone. "I'm just cleaning and finding the bullet first." She moved the towel, placing it over her lap and torso, before pouring a little water over the wound, slow and careful. She hissed through her teeth, even as the blood began to wash away onto the towel. Careful not to irritate the bullet hole, she wiped the rest from her skin. She kept the towel where it was, plucking the tweezers from the first aid kit. She took a breath, steeling herself, because she wasn't quite ready to feel the cold metal there. The Tylenol had dulled the pain, even as her adrenaline faded, but it could only do so much.
Grimacing, swallowing another lump, Phaedra refused to allow herself to look away, despite desperately wanting to. It was… grisly. And not remotely like dissecting a frog. Her stomach clenched, but she held herself together if by nothing else than the abject desire not to reveal just how terrified she was. But when the tweezers were lifted and Helona reached up with them, pausing, Phaedra realized she was not the only one afraid.
Blinking, reaching out, she took a hand to Helona's knee, giving her a nod, "You can do this. You're Wonder Woman, remember?"
With a shaky laugh, Helona smiled, "I'll try to keep that in mind." Taking another breath, slow and steady, she inserted the tweezers into the wound. Her face twisted into a grimace, gently trying to probe for the metal. She didn't want to stick her fingers in and risk it getting infected. She'd like to give the Underground healer as little work to do as possible if she could. It was a long, tedious process as she poked around, eyes looking beyond Phaedra as she searched. Eventually, she hit metal. After checking around it one last time, she squeezed on the tweezers, grasping the bullet, before pulling it out with a relieved gasp. "Worst part down," she said, dropping the bloody bullet into a small metal bowl that had been inside the medical kit. As a result of the probing, the wound had started to bleed again. Tearing off a section of gauze and folding it, she pressed it to the wound and waited.
Phaedra's squeamishness died down until Helona started digging, and her stomach clenched again. She breathed in deeply to calm it, but the scent of blood almost made things worse. It was only her focus on keeping her hand on Helona's knee that kept her from shaking apart completely and losing what little food she'd had to eat that day.
Shivering as the bullet was pulled free, she nodded shakily, "...G-good. What's next?"
"Still not squeamish?" Helona asked, smile small and weary as she pressed the gauze to her skin. She appreciated that despite her obvious discomfort, Phaedra stayed where she was, her hand still on Helona's knee. After a while, she pulled the wad of gauze away, most of the bleeding having stopped. It would inevitably bleed again, given that she'd be sticking herself with a needle, but she could worry about that after the stitches were in.
"I'm going to need you to hold the skin closed. Not over where the bullet went in, but a little further out on each side, and just hold it. I should be able to stitch it easier that way," she answered. She reached for the small pair of scissors, keeping them handy for when she was doing stitches. She prepared the needle, sliding the navy blue thread through the eye. Then she held her fingers on either side of the bullet wound, pressing it closed so she could sew. "Fingers where mine are," she advised gently.
"M-me? Nah. I'm good. Great. Just…" Flinching, she shook her head, "Peachy." Fidgeting, fixing her glasses, she listened to Helona's instructions carefully, focusing on her breathing and keeping her hands from quaking.
"R-right. Got it." Pushing onto her knees, she did as she was told, pushing the wound closed with a wince of sympathy.
"Mmhm," Helona hummed, not totally convinced. "You can still back out, you know. No judgement here," she told her. "And I do mean that."
"I'm okay…" Phaedra added, nodding, "Just tell me if I'm hurting you…"
"I'm hard to hurt," Helona joked softly. "Wonder Woman, remember?" She didn't particularly feel like Wonder Woman, but then again, she did get shot. Everyone has their off days. After taking a moment to steady herself, she carefully stuck herself with the needle, wincing a little, before sliding the thread through. She completed the stitch, thread pulling the skin together. She snipped away at the thread, deciding on individual stitches. So, stitch after stitch, needle poke after needle poke, Helona closed to hole in her shoulder. She'd still need it looked at when they got back, but it would do. She put the needle in the small metal bowl as well after snipping the last thread, knowing she'd need to sterilize them again when she got the chance. "Almost done."
"Thank God." Phaedra half whispered, slightly more pale than she was before. Sinking back, she breathed in, hands shaking a little. It was almost over. Almost. "I dunno how you're so brave, Helona. But it's really something…"
Helona couldn't help the small smile at hearing the whisper of relief. "If it makes you feel better, a lot of it is learned. Plus, I remind myself that this is nothing to the things that terrify me most," she advised. She picked up the gauze, cutting another pad from it that she placed over the stitches. "Alright, this is the part I'm going to need your help the most. We're going to wind gauze around my shoulder, to bandage it and handle the bleeding."
"Things that terrify you most?" Phaedra asked, with a note of disbelief, "You mean there's crap out there scarier than this? Oh… That's awesome." Shaking her head, she straightened and grabbed the roll of gauze, and kneeling in front of the older woman, she began to wind it around her shoulder, listening closely to Helona's instructions, "That… that oughta do it, I think?"
"I can think of a few things," Helona admitted. Those fears were the reason she did much of what she did, honestly. "With any luck, you'll never come face to face with those in particular." She held the gauze in place, keeping it tight over the wound as Phaedra wrapped it around her shoulder. She reached back, arm at a slightly awkward angle, to feel the back and where the end of the bandage was tucked. "That'll do it," she agreed. She reached over for a duffle bag, digging in it for a few minutes before pulling out another shirt and slipping it over her head.
"Did you bring any of your stuff with you in your backpack?" she asked, more out of curiosity than actual need to know. It would also help her figure out if there was supplies she'd need to grab for Phaedra once they were back in the Underground. The plan would be to find Nora once Phaedra was settled in, after all. Even if it weren't out of any love for their cause, Helona had to try to persuade her for her daughter and her own sake. Kane had shot at his daughter. Surely his ex-wife wouldn't appreciate that.
She could only imagine what horrors Helona had seen or endured, if she could think of something worse than the day that they were having. It was all Phaedra could do not to fall apart completely, but it was the woman's strength and bravery, really, that held the younger girl together.
Nodding slightly, she looked to her bag, "Not much… just some clothes and the essentials. Everything I packed for Dad's. And my school work…" Trailing off, she frowned softly.
"...I can't go back, can I?" She asked, her voice suddenly smaller, "To school." To her home. Her friends. Her life...
Helona nodded as Phaedra listed off what she had. Less to worry about later, though she could still offer. "I plan on going back for your mother, once you're settled in. If there's anything you want me to grab while I'm there, I can," she said. Her frown deepened as it started to sink in for Phaedra. "No. Probably not," she admitted. "Even if your father weren't aware of what you can do, it's not exactly safe. With him being aware? That's probably one of the places he'll keep tabs on. Like I said, no turning back," she added, echoing the words she'd said earlier this morning when their plan had been going a lot smoother. "You might be able to stay in touch with some people, if you really wanted. Tell them you moved, and be unspecific about where and why…"
It shouldn't have been the thing that hit the hardest, and yet somehow, Helona's acknowledgement was like a punch to the gut. She was sixteen… building a life, building friendships and a future, and in one swift moment of time, it was all gone. All because of what she was… and who her father was. Tears burned hot in her eyes, and turning her gaze down to the bloodstained hands in her lap, she shook her head.
"...Wasn't supposed to be like this." She murmured, "My life."
"It never is. Supposed to be like this, that is," Helona admitted, hand gesturing vaguely to the vehicle they were currently sitting in the trunk of. Her son's life wasn't supposed to be what it was either. He was supposed to be happy, and go to school. She'd wanted to see him graduate, go to college, then graduate college. She wanted to see him get married, and find his place in the world. Then the world said that he had no place in it, because of what he was. Helona sighed softly. "I know it's not the same, but… you'll get a chance to rebuild. To start anew. It won't be what it was before, but the chance is there."
Nodding, Phaedra reached up with her hands to dry her eyes, before realizing her mistake. Smudging her sleeve across her cheeks, she sighed, "...You're right. Besides… got bigger stuff to worry about than missing the deposit on my Homecoming ticket, or not getting to make out with Nick Briggs at the Halloween party just to piss off my dad..." Rubbing her arms, she sat back, "Highschool's kinda beyond me now, anyway." She added, with a small, dry smile.
"Here," Helona said, handing off the towel to Phaedra. While it was wet where the water had run off earlier, there was still plenty of it that was still dry. "I've also got wet wipes….somewhere." She started rummaging through her duffel bag again, pulling out the package and opening it, offering the open end for her to grab a wipe from. "Probably feels like that, doesn't it?" she asked with a small smile. "I can't say I actually miss high school. Some parts of it, but as a whole… nah. Don't feel like you have to mature right now, though. You've got time, to learn and to figure it all out still."
Taking the towel, Phaedra frowned softly as she wiped off her hands, glad to see the light pink transfer off her palms. Still, despite cleaning them off, she felt an odd weight of discomfort… as if it were somehow soaking into her skin, "...I dunno how much of a childhood I got left, Helona. Not exactly dealing with real world problems right now." Shaking her head, she set the towel aside, "I dunno how much of anything I got left. But I'll do my best not to mature too much…" She winked slightly, giving a shrug.
"That's all I can ask," Helona responded with her own small smile. She cast one last glance out the window before turning to face Phaedra. "So...what do you say to us stuffing our faces with bad McDonald's breakfasts?"
With a small laugh, Phaedra nodded, "You know what? Yeah. Let's do it. But maybe let's do the drive-thru. You're kind of a mess…"
"Who, me?" Helona asked with a snort, looking down. "I don't know what you're talking about. You act like I've been shot or something." Then, with one last smile, she climbed back up through the car to sit in the driver's seat and go through the drive-thru as suggested.
Soon after Helona got a small hill of breakfast burritos, a decision she was sure to regret later, they were back on the road. 5 hours passed, then 8, then 11. They were crawling towards the 13 hour mark, with the sun having sunk behind the horizon and the world beginning to go dark, when Helona parked the car for a final time. The SUV was hidden away, where it was unlikely anyone would go looking for it.
"Alright. Nearly there," she said after a small sigh. "I don't think we'll get a good look at the city tonight, but maybe another time." She unbuckled her seatbelt, mentally reviewing the codes she'd need to get back into the Underground.
Her nerves erupted into chaos again, when Helona killed the engine. She'd begun to drift into weariness, but sudden awareness exploded in her mind as they left the SUV behind. It was… terrifying. The idea of leaving the car behind. The safety and security of it…
"R-right. It's okay. I'm not feeling very tourist today, anyway…"
"Fair enough," Helona conceded. She grabbed the leather cords from where they hung around her rearview mirror, sliding them into her pocket. She'd long since holstered her gun again, and had chunked the remote detonator on one of the bathroom stops. She slipped out from the car, making her way around to the back.
"Don't forget your bag," she told Phaedra as she grabbed her own duffle bag. She stuffed the things she needed most if those things weren't already in the bag, zipping it up. She nearly slung it over her injured shoulder out of habit, but she caught herself with a wince about halfway. She switched hands, slinging the bag over her other shoulder instead.
"Wonder woman…" Phaedra muttered softly, watching Helona grab all of her things and start away from the SUV. Shouldering her own bag, she followed along, "So… so what's the deal with this Underground place, anyway?"
Helona closed the trunk as soon as Phaedra grabbed her bag. She checked around her, making sure there wasn't anything or anyone lurking nearby. Satisfied with what she didn't find, she started to walk. She glanced around her surroundings, orienting herself. If she went down this street, and took a left…
"What do you mean?" she asked, glancing over at Phaedra as she was pulled from her thoughts. "The deal with what part of it?"
"Is it like… some secret mutant club? Like the X-men?" Shuffling her bag to the other shoulder, she moved swifter to keep up with the woman, "Is there a secret password or some elaborate secret entrance?"
"Something like that, yeah," Helona admitted with a small chuckle. "It's super secret, and there's definitely a password, too," she added with a nod. Soon, she found herself where she needed to be. An entrance that would lead to the tunnels that ran under all of New York. With one last glance around, she started down the subway stairs. She led the way, though the maze-like tunnels, past abandoned tracks that had long since fallen out of use. Flashlight in hand all the while, she eventually found herself feeling along the wall for that particular spot where the first metal door was.
Phaedra fell quiet as they entered the tunnels, her senses tuning to the darkness, despite the nerves pulsing in her chest. She had been so sure… the direction her life was going… And now nothing seemed sure. And the sooner they could stop and think… the better.
Helona opened the first door, slipping into the narrow hallway. She guided Phaedra to the second as she fell silent. She rapped her knuckles on the metal before punching in the code, using the one for guests. After a couple of seconds, the door granted entry, and Helona moved to slip through, eyes searching for the giant of a man that could so frequently be found at the door when she returned.
He was there, the mountain of a man, and his eyes widened slightly as his gaze fell on Helona and the girl she'd brought with her. Phaedra moved closer to the older woman, suddenly anxious again, but the man paid it no mind.
"Helona! Hell! We've been waiting… Munroe's been a damn nutcase past few days. What happened?"
Helona placed a hand on Phaedra's shoulder, arm wrapped around her. She had nothing to fear from Kristoff, but it probably didn't feel like it. "Long story. I have a feeling I'm going to be saying it a lot anyway, but I plan on debriefing Rett and Logan first chance I get. If you want to drop in, feel free," she answered. She raised an eyebrow as Kristoff mentioned Munroe in particular. "Speaking of, where is he?"
"His office…" Kristoff pointed a thumb behind him, "Been wearin' a hole in the floor since your message. Lo and Anya are out on a run… been some more uh…" Looking to Phaedra, he shrugged, "You know. Issues… I'm sure Boss'll key you in, once you've debriefed ya…"
Her eyes widened at this. She'd messaged him Friday night. "Looks like I'm about to go save his office floor, then," she joked lightly before her expression turned serious once again. "Oh good. Something to look forward to," she commented, voice drier than sandpaper. She then gestured vaguely in the direction of Munroe's office. "Do you plan on tagging along, Kristoff?"
"Nah. You go ahead. Gotta wait for Lo to get back." He nodded with a small smile, "Nick know you're pickin' up strays, now? Good luck with Munroe… He's in a pretty intense mood…"
Helona snorted, rolling her eyes. She signed with her free hand, fingertips sliding out from under her chin before pointing her hand at Kristoff, in a gesture that meant much the same thing as a middle finger. The smirk on her face was clue enough she was joking, though. "That kid is the stray. Besides, I think he's always been prepared for the possibility of an impromptu sibling," she replied. "I can imagine, if he's been pacing since Friday night. Thank you. Tell Logan and Anya hi for me." Then, a small sigh on her lips, she left Kristoff to lead Phaedra towards Munroe's office.
As she stopped in front of the door, her arm still wrapped around Phaedra's shoulders, she raised her free hand to rap on the door with her knuckles.
"W-wh…" Phaedra started to ask something, but paused, shaking her head and deciding against it. There was too much. Too many layers to uncover. She was confused enough as it was.
As the walked along the path, she took in the sight of the strange underground civilization, awestruck by the look of it… by the impressive advancement. When they reached their destination, however, she turned back to the door.
It was less than ten seconds later that it swung open and the man on the other side swore softly, before rather suddenly enveloping Helona into a tight embrace.
"What is it?" Helona asked, though she wouldn't have gotten an answer even if Phaedra had wanted to give one. She'd barely had time to unwind her arm around Phaedra and drop the duffle bag before she'd found herself in a tight hug. "Hey, there," she greeted, smiling despite herself as she patted his back. She ended up wrapping her own arms around him, letting it happen as she felt the tension slowly unwind. She was safe. She was home. She stayed there for a little while, arms wrapped around him tightly, before breathing in. "In my defense, I did leave as soon as possible."
"You… you leave a vague message… three days ago… and then nothing and all we hear about is shots fired and an explosion at Kane's building!" Releasing her, he looked her over, eyes widening slightly at the blood stains, "Lona… what happ-"
His eyes traveled to Phaedra and he frowned softly, "Come in. Both of you. Sit. I'll make tea."
"Oops," Helona said, an appropriately sheepish smile on her face. "I had new developments, and thought they were better said in person," she offered. Her smile faded slightly as his eyes shifted over her shoulder, and she looked down, finding blood staining the front of her shoulder once again. Shit, had it bled through again?
She gave Phaedra a reassuring smile as she bent over to pick up her bag. She walked into the office, gesturing for her to follow, before setting her bag down beside a chair. "What happened… is a long story. So where would you like me to begin?"
Moving inside, he waited until they'd sat, before setting the kettle, a brow raised at her question, "I'm assuming the shots fired explain the shoulder, but it's probably better you start from the beginning. And you must be Phaedra? I'm Everett Munroe…"
"N-nice… nice to meet you…"
Helona nodded slightly at his statement as she sat down. She took a breath before starting to explain. "About three weeks ago, it was fairly mundane. General lack of progress or minor progress from Kane's side. He'd been focusing his efforts on something very specific. On finding something very specific. And then there was a breakthrough. He'd found what he was looking for. What that was, it turns out, was a specific mutant. Within a few days, there were two mutants in Kane's custody." She idly wrung her hands, recalling the details from the events nearly three weeks ago. "Dorien Willis and Aster Corson, also known as Huntsman and Hemlock respectively, who were under the employ of the hitman and criminal-for-hire Alastor Grey. Willis' ability was tracking. Given an object of sentimental value to the owner or tied to someone close to the owner, he could use it to find out where a target was. This was the mutant Kane had been looking for."
She took another breath, shifting in her seat to get comfortable. "They'd originally intended to capture Willis' younger sister for leverage, though she ended up escaping, to the detriment of Miss Corson's own freedom. She...hadn't gone without a fight, to say the least. Willis, on the other hand, came quietly. Corson proved to be decent enough leverage against him."
Another breath, as if steeling herself for the memories that flashed through her head. "For about a week, Kane used Willis' ability almost constantly, tracking down countless mutants. All of them part of a list, which I believe consisted entirely of former Rogues from before its collapse. Then, on Friday evening, something changed."
Her hand had been waving as she talked, her voice even as she recounted the events that had led up to her coming back. "Willis' powers failed when looking for a woman by the name of Grace Hammond on Friday afternoon."
"...Grace is here." As he poured the hot water into two mugs and brought these and the tea over to the coffee table, he settled onto the arm of Helona's chair, "Do you remember a few months back, Lona? The little fireball Nick mentioned, who saved him from getting splattered on the road? That's her. We had our suspicions that's what was going on… Whoever's been looking for her was able to track her to a cabin in the middle of the woods in Maryland, and to a park in here in New York. What about…" He nodded to Phaedra, who had busied herself with making a cup of tea.
Helona let out a small sigh of relief. It made sense then, why Willis' powers were acting up. Why he'd had to try again, and why she was sure he'd fabricated a lie about Grace's whereabouts. "Yeah, I remember," she said with a nod. More tension eased out of her shoulders. Another one was safe. "When Willis' powers failed… Phaedra happened to overhear." She cast a glance towards the teenager. "About a month ago, maybe two, Phaedra started noticing… odd things. During a conversation after overhearing the incident with Willis and Corson, she accidentally showed me that her powers had been manifesting. No prior signs, she attended public school beforehand, so my guess is Origin."
"Between Kane's 72 hour ultimatum for Willis if Grace wasn't found, and the fact Phaedra was a mutant under Kane's roof, I decided it was best I left. That was when I messaged you."
Swearing softly, Munroe shook his head, "A mutant… under that monster's nose, all this time." Sympathy flooded his eyes, as he looked to Phaedra, who was trying hard to look preoccupied, adding sugar into her mug, "What happened when you were leaving?" Munroe asked, gesturing to Helona's shoulder.
Helona sent a small smile of agreement his way, head tilted up due to his perching on the arm of the chair. "I...I'm not sure. He was off, when we ran across him this morning. Which, all things considered, I guess he had right to be. A guard that gets horribly sick after he ate-" she cut herself off briefly, clearing her throat to hide what might have been a laugh, "copious amounts of laxatives. Then two hostages are released and no one knows how or who did it because there's no footage." She seemed to find her fingernails quite interesting at this point, as she hinted at exactly what she'd been doing since she'd last messaged Munroe. "Then he finds me trying to walk out with his daughter? He probably had suspicions before, but that just pointed them towards me."
"He put it together, that I was working for someone else. Pointed a gun at me faster than I could draw mine. Phaedra...blocked it with her powers. In front of him," she continued, glancing up. She was sure Munroe could imagine exactly what was wrong with the picture of a mutant using their powers in front of Kane. "His next target wasn't intended to be me, but here we are," she continued, gesturing vaguely to her shoulder. "Sorry about that, by the way. The tackling thing," she added, her attention shifting to Phaedra at once.
Munroe seemed vaguely impressed as Helona described what had happened, but when she got down to what had happened in the garage, his expression darkened, "He shot… at his own daughter…"
There was something dangerous in how cool his voice sounded, and pushing off the arm of the couch, he moved with an agitation to.pour himself a mug of tea, "You must be tired, Phaedra. You're welcome to take the guest room upstairs for a.few hours… if you'd like."
Looking between Munroe and Helona, Phaedra frowned, "Don't have to apologize, Helona… You probably saved my life. I am kinda tired though… guess I could lay down?" She looked to Helona then, with an uneasy wariness.
Helona's gaze flicked up, her eyes tracking Munroe as he moved. She noticed the expression, the evenness of his voice that seemed laced with something sharp. She had a hunch, that she could guess what he was thinking, largely because she was in agreement. Her mug of tea that she remembered she had was untouched for the moment.
"It's alright," Helona assured her, looking over at her as she gave her a small smile. She reached over, gently grasping and squeezing her hand. "I'll be around if you need me."
Nodding, Phaedra rose and Munroe offered brief directions up stairs to the guest room. When she'd gone, taking her bag with her, Munroe occupied her seat, cupping his mug between his palms, "You could've died, Lona."
"I'm aware," Helona said simply, not quite looking at him. She was preoccupied with the flash of a memory in her head. Kane had pointed the gun at her, with all intentions to shoot. She'd fully expected to die then. Had it not been for Phaedra, she was certain she would've. "I'm very well aware."
"You take these risks… And I know I've got no right to tell you not to, but hell… do you understand how terrifying it was? Waiting here three days… no contact. And then the police report…" Looking up from his tea, he shook his head, "You alright?"
Helona was quiet, fingers tracing the top of her mug. "I can imagine," she said after a while, sighing softly. "Looking back, maybe a 'I'm fine and headed your way' this morning wouldn't have hurt. The… the explosion was my doing, though, if that makes a difference." She was pretty sure it didn't, actually, but here she was. She didn't respond to the bit about her taking risks. How could she explain that it felt like it was all she knew how to do? That she'd been taking risks for so long that she wasn't sure what normal felt like? She was good at it, working under pressure or in a crisis. Now and then, she wondered, though, if it was all she was good at.
"I will be," she answered, finally taking a sip from her mug. "Sorry for making you worry. I told you not to miss me too much, but I didn't exactly make that easy, did I?"
"You never do, Lona. And no… it doesn't exactly help. Though I'm sure you pissed off Kane, plenty, and that helps somewhat, for sure." Taking a sip from his own mug, he managed a small smile, "I imagine you've given him quite a bit to be pissed about… How'd we do on intel gathering?"
Helona gave a small apologetic smile before a laugh slipped out. "God, he's got to be fuming by now," she breathed, her head resting in one hand as the laugh continued to bubble out of her. Shaking her head, she manage to compose herself even though she still wore a smile. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the bug and recorder first. "This… is all the audio from inside Kane's office since I arrived and was able to put this in place. We can edit it, tailor it, break it down, or whatever we need to make it more manageable." It was a few months worth of audio, after all.
Reaching into her pocket again, she pulled out two flash drives. "This one is roughly half of what was on his computer in the facility. I had to work in small sections of time, so there's still some gaps, as far as that goes." Pointing to the second USB drive, she continued. "And this is everything from his home computer, courtesy of Phaedra."
"...Phaedra?" Blinking, Munroe swore softly under his breath. Even before his outright betrayal of his daughter, she had known his character well enough to do the one thing none of them could. And it could potentially be the nail in his coffin, "She's a brave girl…" He frowned, his eyes shifting to the stairs, before returning to Helona, "You must be exhausted. You should get some rest… after you go see Jim and get that shoulder looked at."
"She is," Helona agreed, her own gaze moving to the stairs. "I think she's still a little shaken up, which she has right to be, given everything that's happened lately. But she's definitely stronger than she gives herself credit for." She looked down at her shoulder with a sigh. "Right. That's probably a good idea. Not bleeding through my shirts is a thing I look forward to."
"Definitely not my favorite look on you, Lona." Munroe admitted, with a small, teasing smile. He set down his mug and his expression sobered briefly, as he lowered his gaze, "...We need to turn our focus to taking him down fast. A man who's willing to murder his own child simply because of what she is… he will stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Hopefully this information you and Phaedra gathered will be the key we need." Rising, he nodded to her, "...But we can discuss this later. You deserve a night off. Oh… and speaking of, I do believe I owe you dinner.. So let me know when you're up for it, and we'll make that happen."
"And what is your favorite look on me?" Helona asked curiously, the hint of a smile on her lips and head tilted as she studied him carefully. The smile slid off quickly, though, at the mention of Kane again. She'd had 13 hours to absorb the fact he'd been willing to kill his daughter, and she still couldn't process it. She couldn't get even begin to get into that kind of headspace. "Hopefully," she agreed, rising to her feet as well. The smile, slowly and carefully, started to resurface. "I definitely will. The promise of pasta is what kept me going, Rett." Her eyes flicked again towards the stairs. "...You'll tell me if she asks for me, won't you?"
"The kind where you're not covered in blood, Lona." He murmured faintly, shaking his head and his smile lost a little of the warmth. How close they always came… Too damn close, "I'll let you know if she does. Hopefully the poor thing can get some sleep, though. Looks exhausted. You should stop by and see Nick, too. I know he'll say he's fine, but he was worried about you."
"Fair enough," Helona answered, hands raising in surrender. "Thank you," she added with a nod, one final look thrown towards the stairs Phaedra had gone up. "Will do. I need to see what he's been up to since I've been gone, anyway," she said lightly. Just before picking up her bag from where she'd set it down, she paused. She seemed to be internally debating something, working her jaw. "And Rett…?" she said, voice a lot softer, glancing up at him.
"He's definitely been busy. I think probably on purpose…" Munroe could imagine he was a little on edge with his mother away for so long. Her tone shifted and glancing up again, the older man's brow rose, as he met her gaze, "...What is it, Lona…?"
"I can't blame him for that," Helona said, shaking her head. At least she'd be able be able to see him again. She stood there a moment longer, hesitating, before stepping forward. She wrapped her arms around him, returning the hug he'd first greeted her with when she had knocked on his door. "It's good to see you again," she whispered, voice barely audible. For all her bluntness, the words 'I missed you' didn't come out, even if that was what she'd meant to say. She hoped, almost despite herself, that he understood it was what she meant. There'd been plenty of times since she'd been away that she wished she had more contact with him than just messaging back and forth.
Rett's arms curved around her gently, as he returned the hug, shaking his head with a small, sheepish laugh, "...Miss Locklear… you've already got a promise for Carbonara. If you're trying to suck up, it's not necessary…" He'd missed her too, the sentiment hopefully echoed clearly enough in the warmth of those words, "Talk to you, soon…"
Helona laughed, the sound clearer than it had been in a while. Working with Kane had weighed on her, maybe more than she'd realized. Rett hadn't been kidding about Kane not having a sense of humor or an ounce of humanity. "I was trying to see if I could get desert thrown in there, too," she teased, starting to pull away. "Talk to you soon," she echoed in agreement, before reaching down to grab the duffle bag she'd dropped beside her chair. Picking it up, she slipped out the door of Munroe's office with one last wave.[/SIZE]
No Shovel Talk Tonight Collab with @Elle Joyner [After functioning like a zombie through caffeine and sheer force of will while he met Oliver, Khuyen takes Grace back to his apartment for the night. After unwinding for the night and taking a power nap cut short, Khuyen confesses he loves Grace. Given this new information, Grace flees into the night for the freshest kind of air the Underground can offer.]
It was well after midnight when the last patron left. Khuyen cleaned the bar counter with circular motions, fighting to stay awake once again. His latest cup of coffee was on the verge of running dry, but it had stopped kicking in some time earlier. His hands were jittery but he still felt just as close to sleep as he had when he first got it. The coffee had probably stopped working a few hours ago, really, but he'd kept going. Now, so close to being done at work, he was eager to head home. He had a few days off, with it being the middle of the week and his coworkers and manager being sure they could manage what business they got until the circle started anew.
The floor was swept, the chairs stacked on tables. He'd cleaned up the back and was close to being done with the counter. It was this sense of accomplishment and the giddy sort of happiness that had settled in his chest ever since he and Oliver had begun to get along that kept him going.
After Grace had seen Ollie off, insisting for the umpteenth time she would be fine and promising to text if she wouldn't be home, Grace had returned to the bar to wait for the end of Khu's shift. When the bar finally closed, Grace helped to stack chairs and wipe up, but not without a degree of distractibility.
When she'd finished with the last chair, she turned to Khu and her expression shifted, warmth filling her as a smile found her lips, "...I think he liked you…"
And that, of course, was the other thing keeping Khuyen going. Watching Grace relentlessly tease him when she knew he could barely function like a person right now. He shook his head in amusement before returning to wiping down the counter. So close. So very close to being done.
He glanced up, smile warming. "I'm glad. It means I get to live another day," he chuckled.
"Yes!" Grace agreed, as she moved a little closer and her arms looped around his waist, eyes drifting up to catch his gaze "And that is a very good thing. Because I'm definitely a little bit attached... I knew I shouldn't have named you."
Khuyen laughed, shaking his head at her as her arms looped around him. He set down the rag in his hand, leaving it on the counter, as he looped his own arms around her. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's what you get for calling me 'baby'. I'm all yours now," he teased, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Make sure you take care of me. I'm needy, you know."
"Ughhh…" With a dramatic groan, Grace rolled her head back, "What have I gotten myself into? So much work. Next thing you're gonna tell me I gotta feed you and take you for walks." Pointing a finger up at him, she fought a grin, "You're trouble, Khuyen. I can feel it. You're gonna be trouble for me."
"Don't forget to let me out at night. And you have to give me toys every now and then, for enrichment," Khuyen chuckled with a wide grin. His grin only grew as she pointed a finger up at him. "Oh, I plan on it, love," he teased.
"Ha! Enrichment, huh?" Tiptoeing her fingers up and down his spine, she smirked, "Now that, I think I can provide." With a wink, she finally released him, stepping back, "Seriously, though Khu… You were amazing. I know he was a little prickly to start but you just … you handled it so well. And you definitely won him over with that drink. You being such a genius? It's kinda sexy."
"I look forward to seeing what you have in store," Khuyen told her, grin ever-present. A small shiver slid down his spine as he felt her fingers on his back. "Nothing I couldn't handle," he assured her before shaking his head. "Careful now, love. You're going to inflate my ego all over again, and I just get needier when you do that. Then I start needing attention."
"Do you, now?" Tipping her head to the side, lip pinched momentarily between her teeth, Grace smiled, "And what sort of attention do you need, my poor, needy baby?"
"I do," Khuyen confirmed with a nod. He slid a little closer, pressing his forehead gently to hers. "All kinds of attention, love. And lots of it. My poor ego… I've told you before it can't take neglect very well." He pouted. "You'd have to make sure it's fed regularly, too."
"Well…" Opening her eyes, she looked up at him beneath her lashes, smiling gingerly, "Maybe we should get you outta here and somewhere where I can pay proper attention to you, then, hmm??"
"That is… very tempting. But I'm not going to be very much use to you, love, and I don't want your efforts to go to waste," he chuckled softly. He smiled down at her softly, one hand snaking up her back to rest at the nape of her neck.
Laughing softly, Grace shook her head, "Always think I'm talking about that. You have a dirty mind, young man. Just… would you trust me? Lock up and come along, okay?"
"That's because you so often are talking about that," Khuyen answered, sticking out his tongue at her. He sighed softly, a fond smile on his lips. "Alright. Give me a second to close up."
"Yes…" She grinned, giving him a teasing poke with her finger, "But not always." Chuckling, she nodded, releasing him and heading for the doors, "I'll meet you outside. Just hurry… before this weird domestic streak ends and I'm back to talkin' about your perfectly formed… ah well, I tried."
Khuyen rolled his eyes in response, shaking his head as she pulled away. "Alright, see you soon, love," he told her as she slipped towards the door. He threw his head back with a laugh, a cheeky grin on his face as he quickly finished what he was doing and made to lock up the bar.
She waited, almost anxiously, and for a moment, Grace couldn't help but wonder if there was a limit to how much and how fast one could actually grow attached to another person. She knew it was just the early phase… the emotional excitement, but damn if it wasn't a new and slightly overwhelming feeling.
When he finally appeared, she grinned, "...All set, Casanova? Lead the way."
Khuyen finally slipped out the door, having finished up, only to be greeted by a beaming Grace. He grinned back, shaking his head. "And here I thought you were taking me somewhere," he teased. "My place?" he asked, turning to walk backwards towards the residential area of the Underground.
Chuckling faintly, Grace looped her arm through his with a small shrug, "I mean… I'd offer my place, but really, it's Nick's place… and that could pretty awkward, all things considered. Especially since Oliver's back there now and they're probably talking about you. Or me. Or both of us…"
"Yeah," Khuyen breathed in agreement. "That...would probably not be a good idea. I survived one encounter, but I might not survive the next if we went there for the night," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh they're definitely talking. Talking about how we're super cute together." He poked her side gently, arm linked with hers as they walked.
Laughing, she gave a firm nod, "You know what? We are super cute, together and I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking it. And you did so well… honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if they're just gabbing about how damn lucky I am, and how you must be out of your mind."
"I seriously doubt that they'd think I was the one out of my mind, love," Khuyen teased, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "Though maybe I am. Just not in the way you think I am." He was out of his mind, alright. He'd totally thrown caution to the wind, and now he was eyeball deep in his own feelings with no real way to swim through them. "But thank you. I'm honestly just glad I made it out without trees falling on me."
"To be fair, it's kinda hard to throw trees at you down here, anyway…" She mused, with a small, teasing smirk, "Maybe we're both crazy, Khu. But hell… sane's boring anyways, right? And eventually everyone loses their mind…"
"It might be hard, but if he's determined enough… Who knows?" Khuyen chuckled with a small, one shoulder shrug. "We're definitely both crazy." He shook his head at her. "I guess that's true. If we're going to lose our minds, might as well enjoy the process."
"And Lord is it enjoyable." She mused. When they reached his apartment, she looked to Khu with a small, sly smirk, "You have a floor today? Or you gonna need a minute?" She teased
"It certainly is," he agreed. A small pout formed on his face. "I have a floor," he protested. "It still looks the way it did last night." He started to unlock the door, swinging it open to allow her entrance to his home.
"Good… I'd hate to get swallowed up by the mess and ruin your relaxing evening." With a grin, she stepped inside, gesturing him in after her. Shucking her shoes and her sweatshirt, leaving them by the door, she turned to Khuyen with a small smile, "Alright, Casanova. Bedroom. Facedown. And before you make any snarky comments, I'll have you know, I fully intend to behave myself, so you'd better, too."
Khuyen snorted, simply shaking his head as he followed her in. He slipped off his shoes beside the door, which he closed behind him soon after. He raised an eyebrow as she spoke. He opened his mouth to speak, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, but she caught him before he could say anything. He bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Alright, you got me," he chuckled, hands raised in surrender. He made his way into the bedroom, though not without keeping his eyes on her with intrigue.
When he'd complied, Grace followed after him, and patiently, she waited until he'd laid down before she eased her way beside him, "When I was working in the casino for Uncle Vito, I'd get some free time between table changes to explore. One time, I wound up in this little massage parlor right outside the main floor, run by this little Korean woman, called herself Nancy. Anyway… she recognized me, coming and going all the time and she asked if I wanted to come in. So I did. She had this method of relieving tension that I'd never have guessed would work, but hell if it wasn't some kinda wicked miracle."
Her knuckles gingerly pushed along the edge of his shoulders, ease knuckle digging in with just the slightest increase in pressure, before rolling out the opposite direction. On the third run, she started the same trail along his spine, then back up, rotating a knuckle further from the central column with each circuit, "...Uncle Vito eventually decided it was too risky, giving me free time, but on the last trip, I asked Nancy to teach me…"
Khuyen had laid down on his bed, stomach down, like she'd asked. Chin resting on crossed arms, he listened intently as she spoke. He hummed softly in acknowledgement. When she dug her knuckles into his back, however, gently rolling the tension out of his back and shoulders, he practically melted into puddle. "She… did a very good job teaching you," he said finally, managing to get the words out as tension uncoiled itself from his muscles.
Chuckling softly, Grace shrugged, "Having smaller hands makes it surprisingly easier, cause you don't overdue the pressure…" Laying her hands flat, she slotted kneaded the same path with her fingers, working them along the stem of his neck, "Never got a chance to put it to use."
Khuyen felt the rest of the tension unravel from his back. He hummed softly with a content smile, face buried in his own blankets. "Glad I could give you a chance to use it, then," he breathed in response.
"Well, you earned it…" She murmured softly, fingers trailing up to his nape and along his crown, then rolling back down again, "Only reason you're so tired is cause you stayed up with me, so it's not like I don't owe you, Khu…"
"You know that you don't actually owe me, right?" he said. His eyes closed briefly before reopening. He shifted slightly, turning his head so that he could look back at her. "You're not in debt to me because you had a nightmare, love."
"No… I know." Rolling back down his neck and shoulders, she let her fingers trickle down his arms "I'm sorry… I don't want it to sound like payment." Chuckling, she rolled back up his arms, gently, "It's just… I feel bad, keeping you up."
"Don't," Khuyen answered,shaking his head. He turned onto his side to face her. "Don't feel bad. You can't help it. Besides, I don't mind," he assured her, reaching up to gently thread his fingers through hers.
"You're exhausted…" She mused, sliding down slightly, to curl up beside him, "And for a guy who works till midnight, entertaining people all evening long, that's saying something. I keep waking up like that, you're gonna need a coffee IV."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm perfectly bright-eyed and bushy tailed," Khuyen protested with a grin. His sleepy smile and heavily lidded eyes suggested he definitely knew what she was talking about. Even the jitter in his hands had begun to ebb away, leaving sleep deprivation in its wake. "If a coffee IV is what it takes, love, I'll gladly pay that price," he assured her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.
Opening her eyes, she tipped her head up to meet his, her smile slightly sly, though her gaze suggested something else, entirely, "...Just wish I was keeping you up with something a little better than crappy dreams." A sigh escaped, and she gave his hand a squeeze, "...You should sleep, though. Really… I've seen roadkill more bright-eyed and bushy tailed than you right now, sweetheart."
A low chuckle sounded from deep in his throat. "Another night, love," he answered, head tilting. "Another night." He carefully, slowly, slid his hand from hers to brush his fingers up her arm. "Ouch. Now that hurt. Am I at least your favorite roadkill, Grace?" he asked, cheeky smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah, yeah…" With a teasing grin, Grace shook her head, "This is at least date number nine, Casanova. I'm startin' to think you're just afraid you'll get too attached and fall madly in love with me, once we've crossed that line." Shivering lightly at the feather soft touch on her arms, her expression softened, "You're my most favorite everything… You really are."
"Nope, this is totally date number two. Though it's hard to say. I am a ninety-five year old man, you know, everlasting dashing good looks or not. My memory, well, it must be starting to go," Khuyen teased, feigning a somber expression as he shook his head. "Though I'm quite certain this is only date two." He smiled softly, saying nothing for a few long moments. He pressed another kiss to the crown of her head, murmuring in a voice barely audible, "Too late for that, love." Part of him hoped she hadn't heard, while the other desperately hoped that she did. "Now you're just buttering me up."
Laughing faintly, she shook her head, "You really are losing it. If this is a date, it's absolutely not two. Two… was the bench, and then you showed me your lovely floorless apartment. So… You're gonna need to learn to count, Mister." Blinking, however, as he leaned in and those words met her ears, she pulled back slightly, a brow raised, "Wait...Too late for what?"
"The bench? What bench? I don't remember a bench," he snickered, grin wide on his face. "Excuse me, I have a floor. It's just shy." He tilted his head, ignoring the wild thump of his heart in his chest. So she'd heard him. "Too late to worry about getting too attached to you," he answered, brow raised as she pulled away.
"Don't play games… you know what bench. I got my tears and snot all over it, freaking out over my brother…" She poked his rib, before leaning back in, her eyes shifting to his again, slightly less mischief in her eyes as she shook her head, "...You tryin' to tell me you like me or somethin', Khu?"
"Oh, that bench. The bench-bench," Khuyen answered, nodding sagely, as if he held all the secrets to the universe. He huffed a laugh, wrapping an arm around her. "Something like that, yeah," he agreed, grinning at her.
"Yes… that bench." Chuckling, she nodded, leaning into his hold. For a moment, she fell quiet, before the words escaped, her voice quivering just slightly as nerves carried into them, "...I… I told Ollie tonight, that… that part of why I needed him to meet you and… and to like you is cause I… I was pretty sure I was falling for you. Stop me when it gets to deep, yeah?"
Khuyen curled around her, holding her tightly. He was quiet as she spoke. He waited, just a few moments, half expecting to wake up from a dream in the bar, where he'd have to unstick his face from the counter. That moment never came. "...You trying to tell me you like me or something, Grace?" he echoed with a half smile. He sobered up a little, knowing she deserved more than that as an answer. "You don't have to stop. I…" he cut himself off with a small laugh, "I'm kind of glad I'm not the only one tumbling off the cliff here."
Breathing out, she closed her eyes, bringing her forehead to his. In his grasp, her hands trembled, just slightly, "...Is… is it normally so friggin' scary? Cause I am terrified, Khu. I… I've never felt anything like this. Not… not for anyone, and I'm afraid I'm just.. I'm gonna screw something up or… or get in my own way… or… I don't even know. But I don't want to stop, either. God, I don't…"
"I don't think I'm a good person to answer that," he admitted honestly. Sometimes it was scary, sometimes it wasn't. Now, though? It didn't feel scary to him. It was odd, really. Slowly but surely, he'd started to feel like she was someone he'd known for years. In the span of a few days, she'd completely wrapped him around her finger, and Khuyen was convinced she didn't even know it. But he wasn't scared. Not really. It felt a lot like pieces were beginning to fall into place. "You're not going to scare me off, love. You're afraid of screwing up, but I promise you, you're not getting rid of me so easily."
"...Good." She whispered, her eyes opening again, meeting his gaze, her own slightly misty, but blazed with determination, "...Good. Because I'd like to keep you around, Khu. I… I dunno what's gonna happen. Not with life. Not with any of this. But hell, if you aren't the best damn thing to happen to me in a long time. I'm not letting go. Not until you make me."
"I'm too needy to make you let go of me, Grace. Pet my ego, and call me pretty, and let me hold you like this," he chuckled. "So long as I've got that, I don't plan on letting go either." It was teasing, based on the wide grin, but the last words were true. He didn't plan on going anywhere.
Laughing softly, Grace nodded, "You are pretty. So damn pretty… and so smart and funny and… punctual?" As she trailed off, she grinned at him, the lighthearted glint returning to her eyes, "You can hold me like this… or any other way you want, Casanova…"
"You had me up until punctual," Khuyen laughed. He snuggled closer, forehead pressed against hers. "Oh, I plan to. I plan to hold you in lots of ways," he purred. "But that… is for a night where I don't feel like I've risen from the grave."
Chuckling softly, Grace nuzzled into him, "Always assuming I'm tryin' to jump you. Your ego doesn't need the boost, pretty boy." With a kiss to the end of his nose, she smirked, "Wishful thinking."
"That's probably because you told me yourself that after the third date rolls around, I was in danger of getting jumped," he teased. "My ego could always use a boost," he added with a low laugh. He smiled wider at the kiss to his nose. "Is it really wishful, though, love?"
"Oh, now suddenly your memory surfaces?" With a grin, she nipped at his lips, before curling into his chest with a small sigh, "But nah… it's not wishful. Maybe if you actually get some sleep, at least. No way I'm going down that road with a zombie."
"My brain is a fickle thing. I don't pretend to understand how it works," he teased, watching her fondly as she curled up against him. "That's fair. I'm not going to be much fun right now anyway," he agreed. A couple of beats of silence passed before he spoke again. "...Can you stay? Doesn't have to be the whole night, just...for a little while," he asked.
Leaning back a little, she met his eyes, and her lip turned down in a small, wary frown, "...Y-you sure? Can't promise I won't fall asleep, and it's kind of a guarantee at this point that I'm gonna… you know." The last thing she wanted was to give him another rough night, but the idea of leaving had even less appeal, when she was so comfortable.
Khuyen nodded, 'I'm sure. If that happens, then we'll deal with it then." He pressed another kiss to her forehead, not entirely willing to move so that he could crawl under his blankets. She'd hit the nail on the head when she told him he was exhausted. He was, but there were also things worth losing sleep over.
Eyes softening, Grace leaned forward, to press a kiss to his lips, thumbs brushing gingerly along his jaw. She hadn't doubted that he meant what he said earlier, didn't doubt his feeling… but it was somehow reassuring anyhow, to know even her flaws were appealing enough to keep her around, "...Yeah. I can stay." She breathed, pulling back. With a wiggle, she slid out of her jeans, before slipping under the covers, curling up in the crook of his chest with a comfortable sigh, "...I was only saying that to be nice, anyway. Like I'd let you get rid of me that easy." She teased.
He followed her lead, crawling under the covers, though not without a significant amount of reluctance. He recurled his arm around her, gently returning the kiss. "Better tell Oliver that. I don't want to be in some false sense of security," he added with a chuckle. "Pff, like I want to get rid of you."
"I'm guess he's already figured it out, by now. But I'll send him a text in the morning, just so he doesn't hunt us down." Laying her head down on his arm, she sighed softly, before leaning up to kiss his forehead, "...Now get some sleep…" She didn't say it, but the thought ran through her head… 'While you can'.
"Probably. Still, I don't want to find out how determined he has to be to fling trees at me from down here," he snorted. "Okay, bossy." He stuck out his tongue at her before he settled against her. His forehead was pressed to hers as he started to relax.
"You love it…" She murmured gently, letting her eyes drift shut, "When I'm bossy. Goodnight, Khu.." and for the second time in, she felt herself drifting off beside someone with such a sense of peace that she dared to think it might hold. Might last…
Khuyen might have answered, if he weren't already fast asleep. His grasp had gone entirely lax and his breathing evened out, slow and deep. He'd drifted off, the only real thought in his mind being how very lucky he must have been to find himself where he was now.
She slept. For a little while, Grace slept. Dreamless, peaceful, uninterrupted bliss. It was nearly morning when her subconscious gave in the darkness, and in her mind, try as she might, she could not shake the terrifying memories… Subtle twitches, like a cat, began in her hands and legs, building steadily as a soft murmur left her lips, nearly inaudible, but fearful all the same. Roughly thirty seconds from the build, dampness beading the back of her neck and her forehead, Grace shrieked, not enough to wake, fingernails digging grooves deep into her palms, deep enough to break the tender skin.
For the most part, Khuyen slept soundly. At some point, though, noise started to filter in. Just in time for Grace's shriek to meet his ears. His eyes snapped open, breathing in sharply. He was halfway upright, looking for a sign of danger, before his gaze focused on Grace. Noticing she was still asleep, despite the shriek and the way her nails dug into her own skin, he gently leaned in. He braced a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. "Grace," he whispered, hoping he could wake her and spare her more of whatever she was seeing.
Another cry forced free as her eyes snapped open, and for a moment, Grace panicked, thrashing at the arms holding her down, before realization struck. Choking out a sob, she grabbed Khu's arms, hands clawing up his arms to loop around him, hugging tightly to him as her breathing rolled erratically from her chest, heart hammering hard enough it was no doubt felt where she pressed into him.
Khuyen held on, even as she initially fought back, though he didn't hold her down. He waited, until the realization came. "It's alright," he cooed softly. "It's alright. I've got you." He cradled her face in one hand, the other wrapping around her tightly. He held her there, close to his chest, hoping it was enough to help her settle again.
Tears rolled free as she burrowed, shaking against him, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry…" She repeated in a whisper, over and over, clinging until her heart stopped pounding, her breathing slowing, easing, "I'm so sorry…"
"It's alright," he assured her, still clutching her tightly. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. It's alright." He gently ran a hand through her hair, whispering 'it's alright' as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
Breathing in sharply, she shook her head, releasing him to brush the tears from her cheeks with a frustrated swipe, "Damn it. I… I hate this. I don't know get why I can't… why I can't shake it." Trembling hand resting against her brow, she sniffed, "...I just want it to stop."
"You went through something terrible, Grace," Khuyen said softly, still gently running fingers through her hair. "It not fair, but it's going to stick with you awhile," he added.
"I know…" She murmured, tucking her head beneath his chin, "I know. I just… God, it sucks." Brushing her fingers along his arm, she sighed, "...I thought maybe… maybe I'd make it the whole night, too. I just… I thought I could."
"It's alright," Khuyen whispered again. "I'm sure you'll be able to soon. One step at a time, love. Besides," he added, glancing back at his clock, "you almost made it to morning."
Following his gaze to the clock, Grace frowned in thought, giving a small, weary nod, "...I… I guess I did." Breathing in, she looped her arms around his waist, "Thank you… for… for being here."
"Nowhere I'd rather be, Grace," Khuyen assured her softly. He settled again, sinking into the mattress as she relaxed. His heart was still thumping in his chest, from the fear that his worst nightmares had come true. From the fear that all good things had to come to an end, and that the Underground was now facing said end. He said nothing about it, though, content to just lay with her.
Laying her cheek to his chest, she sniffed softly, and curved an arm over his stomach, fingers making delicate circles along his side, "...So your lifelong goal was always to have a crazy, traumatized girlfriend, who can't get through a damn night without some stupid flashback dream? We gotta talk through your priorities, baby...."
Khuyen snorted, stifling a laugh behind his hand. "My lifelong goal...was to have someone I'd be willing to stay with no matter what, and they'd be willing to stay with me. I don't know about you, but I think my priorities are pretty in order, love," he chuckled.
Blinking, she settled her chin to his chest, meeting his eyes with a thoughtful expression, "Damn… those… those are actually some wicked good priorities. There uh… there might be some mad new though." She whispered, giving him a sly look, "Cause I do have one deal breaker that could make things awkward."
"Told you," Khuyen teased, sticking his tongue out at her. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as she spoke. "Doubtful, but go ahead and try," he replied, looking confused as well as a little intrigued.
"It's just…" Shifting slightly, so she could see him better, she fixed him with a feigned expression of a serious nature, despite the small tip at the corner of her lips, "I have this thing about guys who sleep in jeans." With a teasing grin she couldn't fight, she poked his leg, "...How did you even manage this? You're inhuman."
Khuyen blinked before a wheezing laugh slipped out of his mouth. "I was tired, so sue me. Besides, if you're trying to get my pants off, it's not going to be that easy, love," he answered, waggling her eyebrows at her. "Besides, I don't usually make a habit of sleeping in jeans anyway."
Grinning again, she shook her head, "Always tryin' to call me out… Which one of us has the depraved mind, here?" Biting her lip, she looked him over, "And good to know… I guess I can let it slide, this one time."
"I'm pretty sure it's both of us. I've always known I was a little depraved, but you… you're definitely in the same boat, love," he teased. "Just this once. Though, if you insist, I can always fix that particular problem."
"Oi… before I met you, I was perfectly oblivious to all manner of depravity…" She teased, with a laugh, before shaking her head, "And I thought you said I wasn't gettin' you outta those jeans?"
"I sincerely doubt that," Khuyen teased. "I said you weren't getting me out of them so easily. But if you insist..." He gave her a cheeky grin. "If it's really a deal breaker…"
"You better keep them on…" She mused, tapping her fingertips along his collar, "Because you might actually be onto something, here… and I'm not sure, after you've been so friggin' sweet that I'm gonna be able to handle that."
Khuyen chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright. You won't have to be exposed to my legs tonight. You're safe… for now," he continued, gaze flicking briefly to the fingertips on his collar before returning to meet her eyes.
"Good… Cause I'm over here tryin' to preserve my good judgement and self control and you are just being no dang help." The fingers traveled lower down his chest, dancing along his sternum as her lip twitched into a sly smirk.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm being perfectly innocent and totally helpful," Khuyen protested with a grin. "It's not my fault you can't handle the thought of my gorgeous legs."
"It's not your legs that worry me…" She teased, mischief in her eyes as she shifted, swinging one leg over and sitting up, to straddle his hips, pinning him as effectively as she could, "But I can handle anything…"
Khuyen snorted in response, watching in amusement as she settled herself over his hips. His hands lifted to rest on hers, an eyebrow raised as he looked up at her. "Of course you can, love," he teased, a note of something like a challenge in his words despite how innocuous they seemed.
Her smile turned sly as she sat up straighter, a brow raised with a sense of defiance, "See, you're actin' like the tough guy, but… I'm in the power position, here. And frankly, I'm definitely seeing your advantage dropping…"
"Oh? So you're in the power position?" Khuyen asked, mischief dancing behind his own eyes. His hands raised to her waist, settling there as he laid still for a few moments. Then in one fluid motion, he rolled to side and flipped their positions, with Grace on her back and him hovering over her with his hands braced on either side of her. "And what advantage is that, Grace?" he purred, face close enough to hers that she could once again count the flecks in his eyes.
With a squeak, Grace was flipped, and a laugh almost escaped as she looked up a Khu… almost. But rather than laugh, she shifted, arm wound around his neck and tipping up, she brushed her lips to his, voice dropping to a whisper, "Still feel like I have the advantage here…"
"I'm sure you do," Khuyen answered, pressing a quick, gently kiss to her lips before pulling away. "You have me exactly where you want me, don't you?" he asked, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "For someone who keeps talking about self-control, you're not any help with mine." Then, instead of holding his position over her, he flopped on top of her. He braced his chin on his hands, watching her with a cheeky grin as he effectively trapped her under him.
"Oof…" As he flopped down, Grace let out a wheeze of a laugh, shaking her head, "Okay, okay. Less advantageous, now. Don't smush me! I'm petite!"
"Nope! You're getting smushed now. Absolutely smushed," Khuyen cackled. He didn't even budge, staying exactly where he'd flopped down.
"Oh… now, see… Now there's no mercy." Hooking one leg around his, Grace locked him in place, before her fingertips rose, wiggling near his ribs, "Remember… You brought this on yourself…"
Khuyen snorted, shaking his head as he noted her hands. "I'm not that ticklish, love, but go ahead," he challenged. He unfolded his arms, burying his face in her neck. "Do your worst," he chuckled
"Everyone is ticklish, Khu!" Her fingers prodded, not swiftly, but gingerly, like a doctor, prodding for a place of injury… And she watched him, cautiously, looking for any tick, even a twitch.
Khuyen raised an eyebrow at her in amusement as she poked him. Still, he felt the familiar crawling sensation and the muscle in his side spasm. It was dulled, but it was there. It was a beat too late that he realized it had been quite some time since he'd seen his sister, since he'd last turned off the ingrained response to being tickled. It had worn off since then. His powers, after all, were never permanent. Horror dawned in his eyes. "Wait, shit-."
"Bingo!" And as promised, without mercy, Grace curved her fingers into his sides, tickling at that spot relentlessly, "Got you now, Casanova!"
"No!" Khuyen squawked before dissolving into laughter. He'd buried his face in her neck again, some of the sound muffled as she tormented him. He tried to reach back and grasp her hands, in hopes of stopping the onslaught he hadn't at all been prepared for.
Grace only fought for a second or two, because contrary to her threat, torture was not her actual goal. Her hands dropped, and she grinned, looking up at him with a small, innocent shrug, "I know your weakness, now, Khu. Whatcha gonna do about it?"
Khuyen pouted as he lifted his head to look up at her, before rolling off to the side so that he was no longer crushing her. "I'm going to make a note to deal with that later," he replied. "Though speaking of weaknesses, what were you saying about not being worried about my legs?"
"I mean… I'm sure your legs are stunning, Khu… but they're hardly the trouble, now, are they?" She teased, with a small, sly grin, "And they're definitely not my weakness. I think we both know what that is, by now…"
"I dunno, I think they're pretty nice and definitely worth the trouble," Khuyen snorted in reply, grinning back at her. "That's true. Your real weakness is my fantastic, very shapely...heart."
Her smile softened and she reached out, fingers brushing his jaw as she gave a small nod, "...Actually, yeah. But I'm also really talking about your heart right now, Khu. You got me hooked…"
"All part of the plan," he teased, smile softening as he felt her fingers on his jaw. He curled his arm around her once again, fondness unmistakable in his expression. "Though if it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure I'm hooked too."
"We're good at this circle…" She murmured, fingers curling into his hair, "Getting to feel like a dance. Bad dreams, unmistakable innuendos and flirting… and then… well, here we are. Not that I'm complaining, just… Hope I'm not boring you." Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his jaw, "I'm not, right?"
"Told you that you could dance," Khuyen chuckled. He tilted his head up to press his own kiss to her forehead. "You're definitely not boring me, love," he assured her. "Not by a long shot."
"Good… cause I've uh… I've got no clue what I'm doing here, so I'm kind of just winging it all." With a smooth smile, she shrugged, looping her arm across his shoulder, "But I never said I was bad at all dancing. Just the kind you do with your feet."
"You're really good at winging it, then," Khuyen replied. He bit his lip, looking as if he were fighting back a laugh. "Have you just… kept trucking along?" A wide grin broke across his face as he shook his head. "You're not bad at that either. Just starting out, obviously, with plenty of room for improvement. But we'll find that rhythm yet."
"...How are you so good looking, and so… so old." She asked, with a genuine note of confusion, before a smirk folded over her lips, "You know what they say," She continued, and the edge of mischief returned to her gaze as her fingertips tiptoed along the side of his neck, "...Just takes practice."
"I told you, Grace, I'm just a really gorgeous old man," Khuyen snorted, chuckling as he snaking a hand up to her hair. Idly playing with the remaining streak of green, he met her eyes. "Just takes practice," he agreed, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.
"Well… then I guess I'm into the silver fox thing, now…" And with a small murmur of amusement, she leaned into that kiss, pulling herself closer to him.
"Hey, now. I don't have any grey hair. Don't come at me like this," Khuyen protested, smiling all the while. He rested his hand at the nape of her neck, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. After a few moments, he pulled away. "...Do you think you'd be able to go back to sleep?" he asked earnestly, concern sneaking into his eyes. "Because you need rest, Grace."
With a small sigh, Grace flopped back on the mattress, an arm laying over her face for a moment as she considered the question, "Not really whether or not I'd be able to… it's more like do I want to. Startin' to question whether or not I should just give up on sleep and just start surviving on caffeine, instead."
"As someone that was surviving purely on caffeine and sheer force of will yesterday, I don't recommend it," Khuyen chuckled, shaking his head. "Trust me. It's not fun," he assured her. He snaked an arm around her, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head.
A sigh escaped, and Grace shook her head, "...I know. You're right… I just… You ever feel like… you just can't shake something, and that's all you wanna do? I know… I know it just happened… and I shouldn't feel that way, but hell… I just wanna get past it, Khu."
"I know, love," he answered softly. He gently carded his fingers through her hair, the bottom half of his face still nestled in the hair at the top of her hair. "I know," he murmured. "And you will. One step at a time, one day after another."
"I was never this person… Dwelling on this crap. Life's thrown me for enough loops, you'd think I would have the hang of it." Fingers curling into the sheets, she frowned, "I hate that… that I can't control it. That these creeps own me this way…"
Khuyen's hand stilled for a moment. "There's nothing wrong with trying to deal with stuff like this, Grace. Nothing wrong with trying to heal, even when it hurts," he said gently. "And they don't own you. No one on the planet owns you but you, love. No one could," he added, half jokingly. He shook his head slightly. "This creeps have given you something. They've shown you how they work, what they'll do. Now you're able to see it and recognize it. You can make sure they never touch you again, love. It's terrible that it was a price you had to pay, but that? That's the opposite of owning you."
Blinking, Grace looked over to him and for a moment her breath hitched in her throat at the magnitude of his words before she shook her head, twisting.slightly onto her side to curve her arm around his shoulder. Tugging him close, she allowed her lips to hover near his, voice dropping to a whisper, "You're wrong though… Someone could. And I'd let him…" Meeting his eyes, she leaned in, lips finding his.
"I could," Khuyen agreed, voice little more than a whisper as his lips nearly brushed against hers. He tightened his hold, hugging her close. "Thing is, I don't want to own you, love. You're your own person," he said softly, gently returning the kiss. "I don't want any more than what you're willing to give."
Brushing back his hair, Grace shook her head, gaze soft, warm, but with threads of determined fire winding their way through, "...But… what if what I'm willing to give is everything, Khu? What if it's already yours… but… but all of it? Would you want it, still? Scars and ugliness and all…?"
"Of course I'd want it," he answered, brow furrowing even as his smile remained soft. "I'll love all of you, every bit of you. Even the parts you can't love yet." He paused. "Especially those."
Breathing in, Grace pushed upright, and there was a sense, for a moment, of someone being startled, which, she supposed, wasn't entirely inaccurate. Expression guarded, she stared at him, and the throb of her heart in her chest was nearly painful as her words escaped in a whisper, "...You… you'll what?"
Khuyen blinked up at her as she bolted upright. He was silent for a few moments, arm having unravelled from where it had been wrapped around Grace. It was after a few beats of silence that he realized what he'd said; the words he'd been avoiding, since he was sure it would be considered too soon. Regardless, he took a breath and continued, "I'll love every bit of you, even the parts that you aren't able to yet."
Eyes filling, Grace dug her fingers into the covers again, to still the tremor that had overtaken them, her mind unraveling as he repeated the words. For a moment, she said nothing, not trusting that anything would come out that was remotely comprehensible. When she did speak, her voice tremble lightly, "...N-no one's ever… No one's ever said that to me, before…"
That made him sit up. Now upright, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close once again. "I told you, love," Khuyen said gently, cupping her cheek in his head hand. "You deserve to feel valued. You deserve to hear those words." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "And so help me, if I don't do anything else right, I'm going to make sure you hear those words a lot."
Sniffing softly, Grace curled into him, and burrowed her face in his neck to hide the tears as she skimmed her cheeks, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt the way they had the sheets. It was hard to feel like she deserved any of it… even now, but she wouldn't… couldn't argue, not with the way it made her feel. Breathing in, she flattened her palms to his back and straightening again, met his gaze, "...Say it again…? Just… just one more time?"
Khuyen's smile mirrored her own as she pulled herself closer and buried her face in his shoulder. He gently rubbed her back, soothing as he let her gather her bearings. He tilted his head slightly as she spoke, but didn't argue. "I'll love you. Every bit of you. Especially the parts you can't love for yourself yet."
Fingers curling into his hair, she leaned her forehead to his, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, letting the words sink in… filter through the places of her mind that found it so hard to grasp, so hard to believe. Softly, her lips brushed his, fingers of her free hand gingerly grazing his jaw.
Khuyen smiled into the kiss. He braced his hands on either side of her as he leaned into it, returning it. He hummed softly, contently, before eventually pulling away. "If I'd known those were the magic words, love…" he chuckled, the sound barely audible, "I would've said them a long time ago."
"I don't… I don't even know how to say them…" Grace shook her head with a small, dry laugh, "...I mean, obviously, I do. But… hell." She'd told both Oliver and Nick that she loved them, and even before that, Grace had said it plenty of times in ways she didn't exactly mean, but this? This felt different… fuller and richer… and scarier. So much scarier, "...I… I do though. Want to."
"You don't have to say them. Especially not right now," Khuyen assured her, shaking his own head. It was soon, far far too soon for it to even be a real worry in his mind. "It'll come to you, in its own time. I'm more than willing to wait for when you can," he promised, pecking her cheek.
"...It's just…" Looking down, a small sigh escaped, "...I've always been afraid to… to say it, cause… cause people… People leave and... and it's. It's never gone well for me, before. I'm afraid to…" Eyes shifting up, she smiled faintly, "It sounds so stupid, saying it outloud. I'm scared to jinx it, Khu."
"Grace, I know that's not a fear that's going to just go away, but…" Khuyen took a breath, "trust me, I don't plan on going anyway. You will have to physically get rid of me. I'm going to actually adhere myself to you and you're going to have to take a crowbar to me if you want any peace and quiet, ever." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Like I said though, take your time. No pressure."
"...C...close your eyes." She murmured softly, before giving him a look, her lips curving into a smile, "Just… do it, okay? Trust me."
He raised a brow. "Intriguing," he commented, clearly amused. Still, he did what she asked. He closed his eyes, a sliver of a smile still on his lips and one brow raised.
Sitting back a little, Grace studied him for a minute, making sure he'd closed them and that they stayed closed. When she was satisfied, her hands knotted in her lap, and breathing in deeply, she exhaled the words barely above a whisper, "...I love you, Khu…"
His smirk spread into a soft smile and his expression warmed. Still his eyes remained closed. "I love you too, Grace," he whispered back. "Now am I allowed to open my eyes, because I think it's going to be a little difficult to find your face to kiss you with my eyes closed."
"...I've got it covered…." Biting her lip, Grace's smile warmed, and cupping his cheeks with her palms, she pulled his face towards her own, crushing her mouth to his.
Khuyen hummed in amusement as he was pulled toward her. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand resting on the nape of her neck. He returned the kiss, his eyes never opening.
Pushing up onto her knees, she pulled herself closer, hands falling to his waist as a soft smile tipped at the corner of her lips, "...Okay… I didn't think it was actually possible for you… to make this whole behaving myself thing more difficult… but congratulations, you've done it."
He chuckled softly, "Oh, so I'm making it more difficult for you? Trust me, love. You… you are not making this very easy on me either." He rested his forehead against hers, practically purring all the while. "You're a very bad influence," he added teasingly.
Heat curled along the back of her neck and across her cheeks, as Grace slowly shook her head, "I'm not trying to be…" She chuckled, "Just… got no idea what I'm doing anymore. And then you go and drop a bomb like that on me and… yeesh. I need some fresh air or something."
Khuyen smiled, "Sorry. Didn't mean to drop it on you like that. I was trying to be reassuring." He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. He pulled away a little, giving her a bit of space as he searched her face. "If you need actual fresh air, I don't know how fresh you consider the Underground's air… but that's an option. If you need it," he added.
Grinning, Grace shook her head, "I'm not sorry you dropped it, baby… But hell if it doesn't make you at least a thousand percent more enticing right now." Biting her lip, she looked at him, and leaning back, breathed out again, "...Yeah. I'm gonna just… step outside for five minutes."
He grinned back at her. "I'll keep that in mind for the next date," he teased, winking. His expression sobered quickly enough, though, and he leaned back to give her room to detach. "Alright. Take your time, love. I'm not going anywhere."
"Just pray this helps…" She teased, as she shifted from her spot to find where she'd shucked her jeans, earlier, "Because if not, I can't promise you're makin' it to the next date…" Giving him a once over, she dressed, and shaking her head, slipped out of the bedroom. Making her way to the front door, Grace stepped outside onto the balcony with a deep breath.
When she'd first met Khuyen, she was sure he was just another player, and maybe that's why it had been so easy to allow herself to fold a little - the game had always been a good distraction, and when no one got hurt, well… it had its upsides. But things had changed fairly quickly. Yet she'd never anticipated getting this far in… It was intense. Terrifying. Exciting. And for the first time, possibly in her twenty-two years of life, Grace felt genuinely wanted. Ollie, Nick and now Khu… they'd all opened a part of her she had closed off for so long, and it felt good…
It felt so good…
And there was no way it could last.
Leaning on the railing, she took a breath, and her eyes skimmed the dark streets, quiet in the still of night. The lack of a moon and stars overhead was jarring, and yet there was a certain peace in the total stillness. No... not total stillness.
From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the figure, shuffling along the street. They kept close to the storefronts, moving with a slowness that suggested stealth. Heart picking up pace, Grace's gaze narrowed. The build. The motions… Even at a distance, there was familiarity there…
Eyes widening, she spun and moved swiftly for the door again, slipping inside, closing the door behind her, as panic swelled in her chest, "Khu!"
He'd laughed as she pulled on her jeans and slipped out the door. He'd watched, gaze lingering on the doorway even long after she'd exited. He took a small breath, smiling to himself as she left for fresh air. He sat that way, in dead silence, for a few moments before running his hands over his face. He was in deep now, wasn't he?
Shaking his head, he reached for his phone. Minutes continued to pass, with him typing in a conversation that went back and forth throughout.
He'd just sent another, waiting for a response, when Grace re-entered. There was a pang in his chest. Something had changed. He could tell that much in her tone. He looked up at her, eyes wide. "What is it?" he asked, halfway to standing already.
"He's here…" The sound of her voice shifted, the strength fading with a quiver of fear as she looked back to the door again, arms curling around her, "Asher! I don't know… I… I don't know how… Oh, God. Ollie…" Without a word, Grace spun and pulling the handle again, she yanked the door open.
"Who?" he'd asked, now standing in a fluid motion. It was answered soon enough. Asher. Asher… the guy that had held her head underwater? The guy that had tried to kill her? The guy that kept coming after her and was only stopped for a while by a bear and a tree? His heart slammed against his ribcage, for an entirely different reason than it had before. He'd been about to stride towards her when she raced out the door. "Grace! Wait!" he called after her, breaking into a sprint as he chased after her. His phone was left forgotten on the bedspread.
She was hallway down the stairs when she realized Khu had followed her out, and spinning, she swore softly, "What are you doing??" She hissed, "Khu, no! Go… go back in…"
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm following you," Khu answered, as if it were the obvious thing in the world. Something protective flickered over his face, something almost angry as what exactly Asher had done to her raced through his mind. His gaze strayed to her ear, to her faded bruises, before meeting her gaze again. "Look, I'm not going to stop you if you want to go out there. Doesn't mean I have to let you go alone. Besides, if he's here? If he's actually here? It's trouble for everyone. We need to tell people."
"...H-how…" Shaking her head, she turned around again, her eyes moving back to where she had seen the man skulking through the streets, "How the hell did he find me again..."
"Ironically enough…" The voice came from beside the stairwell, and Grace nearly tripped as she skirted to the side, away from the figure that pushed himself off the wall, out of the shadows. Asher's smile flickered to his lips, coldness still present in his eyes, as he took in the frightened girl with a nod, "I wasn't actually following you, this time, Grace… But I'll take what I can get. Hello, Irony, right? I like the hair..."
Khuyen hadn't had time to get the words 'I don't know' out when Asher revealed himself. He watched with wide eyes as Asher moved closer to Grace. "Grace, go back up. My phone's on the bed. Call Munroe," he said, one hand extended to her as his bare feet padded down a few more steps towards her. He didn't speak to Asher, didn't acknowledge his words, though he certainly acknowledged his presence.
"Or…" Asher's eyes flicked from Grace to Khuyen, and his lip twitched higher, "You can save us all the trouble of a big mess… Keep your boyfriend here in one piece… and you can come with me." His hand hovered near his hip, his posture nonchalant, casual, even.
"I'm not leaving you…" She whispered to Khu, shaking her head, "...I'm not going anywhere with you."
"That's disappointing." With a small sigh, Asher brushed aside his blazer, pulling the handgun from his holster, "Think you can stop me, Grace? Before I put a bullet between Pretty Boy's eyes?"
Khuyen's breathing slowed. It felt a little like time had slowed to a crawl. He didn't hear anything Asher said once he noticed the hand. Hovering at his hip. A gun, he noted. Machinery. Easy peasy. He couldn't see it, though, let alone be close enough to touch it. But if he could see it… If he could focus hard enough… maybe. Working off sight alone only worked half the time with stuff like this, but it'd have to do. It would have to work.
Sending up a silent prayer, he acted as if he were raising his hands in surrender. Then, he grasped the handrail and hurled himself over the side with all the speed of a train. He landed on his feet, making him wince slightly as the ground connected with his soles from that height. Nothing he hadn't done before though. Out of practice or not, he was still a dancer.
So, with eyes trained on the gun as soon as it came into view, he flung every mental block into it he could. 'Off, off, off, off, turn off.' It was a new prayer, a new mantra, that he held onto as he moved towards Asher.
Fear swelled as she watched Khuyen leap over the railing, and a cry built in her throat, but never expelled. She moved to grip the cool metal, as Asher turned the gun on the barkeep, and her eyes moved to the watch face, prepared… But the shot didn't come and looking up, she and Asher both wore shock and confusion, the latter swearing, as he eyed the firearm.
"What did you do??"
A small sigh of relief as the gun never fired, even as the trigger was pulled, came out of Khuyen's mouth. It worked. He didn't break concentration though, keeping his eye trained on it as he carefully moved forward. Slow, careful, methodical. Nothing sudden. Not yet.
"I turned it off," Khuyen answered, an almost giddy smile on his lips as he shrugged. Then, with Asher's attention on his failed gun, he launched himself first into a sprint then a leap. He went barreling towards Asher.
"Khu!" This time, the cry did escape as Grace watched him race towards Asher. The other man, tossing the gun aside braced himself, eyes narrowed, as he held his hands out, ready… eyes narrowed into a deep glare that was all too indicative of his personal fury over the loss of control.
All too often people forgot how dancing made people stronger. It was made to look effortless, to look easy. To make it appear that way, to make it graceful and beautiful though, it required a great deal of muscle, strength, and speed. These were all the things Khuyen took advantage of.
Exactly what Asher had done flickered through his mind. He'd tortured Grace. He'd tried to kill her. He tried to drown her. He kept coming after her, kept terrorizing her. He made her feel like she was to blame for what happened to Oliver. Added to everything that made her feel like she wasn't worth anything. For a few moments, Khuyen swore red streaked his vision. How dare he. How dare he keep showing up? How dare he keep terrorizing her? How dare he keep taking from her? How dare he threaten her?
Were it anything else, were it anyone else, Khuyen might've gone easy on them. But this was the sick fuck that worked for another sicker fuckier fuck that wanted Grace and everyone like her not just dead but worse too. So Khuyen didn't moved to punch him, or kick him, or just harm him. He moved to take something from Asher. As he barrelled towards Asher, he didn't strike him. He slammed both hands into the other man's shoulders, throwing the entire force of his body into the motion. Then, he took. Sight, off. Hearing, off.
Holding her breath, Grace watched half in horror, half transfixed as Khu neared Asher. She wanted to call him back, to tell him to stop… and her heart pounded, painfully, as the two collided. There was a sudden scream, and for a moment, Grace's heart stopped entirely… before realization struck that it had come from Asher, rather than Khu.
Asher stumbled back, a pure look of horror on his face as arms outstretched, he swung, swung wildly, blindly.
Slowly, Grace moved down to the bottom of the staircase, eyes wide, blinking, "...K-Khu?"
Khuyen kept his hands clutched firmly onto Asher's shoulders for a few moments longer. He flung mental block after block into the two senses as he could before he pulled away. He ducked, narrowly avoiding getting swiped by Asher's hand as he took a step back. He nearly left it at that, but blinded and deafened, Asher was still a danger. So with another swift motion, he drove the heel of his palm into the center of Asher's chest. Solar plexus. It was definitely hard enough to sweep the air from Asher's lungs and paralyze his diaphram for a few precious seconds. It happened that Khuyen would take his breath from him too.
He kept his hands outstretched, eyes never leaving Asher. His chest was heaving with each exhale. He didn't dare look away, for fear his concentration and hold on Asher would be broken. His powers were never permanent, but he wanted to keep this up as long as he could. "Grace. Go get Munroe. Now," he told her, voice firm. "Maybe Kristoff too." He'd feel better if the man that could carry Asher like a football was here too. Already the piercing pain was starting between his eyes. Still he held on, refusing to let Asher have his senses back.
Swallowing, Grace stared, as Asher dropped to his knees, holding his chest, face a mask, trying not to reflect the fury and terror he felt. She didn't want to leave, but Khuyen had left no real room for argument. Still, she hesitated, as she started forward, "...Be careful…" She breathed, concern in her eyes, poured into those words, before she took off heading off in the direction of Munroe's office.
Khuyen nodded in response, not trusting his voice to work. He kept his eyes on Asher, never looking away and barely blinking. The pain between his eyes spread like a web to encase his entire head. Something burned deep in his nose, and then shortly after, he felt the trickle of blood. The world was starting to tilt beneath his feet. Still, he didn't look away or break his concentration. Blood flowed from his nose, over his lips and chin before dropping to the ground below. Time passed, and spots clouded his vision. He was pushing his limits, pushing them farther than he'd ever allowed before, but he didn't stop. The slow flow of blood turned into something closer to a river, red staining the bottom of his face. His vision was blurring, his head screaming for him to stop, but he didn't. Not until she got back… Not until she was safe.
Grace was a quick as she could, despite the fear that raced through her. When Munroe arrived after what felt like an eternity, but was in fact, only a few seconds, she hastily explained what had happened, and probably a little faster than she should have, because the man appeared more confused than anything, before realization dawned. Swearing, he grabbed his holster from where it hung by the door, and pressed a button beneath the lightswitch that Grace could only assume was some manner of security system.
Sure enough, before they had reached the apartment building, Kristoff and another man, tall and lanky, but with a wiry build that suggested there wasn't an inch of him incapable of knocking someone's teeth out, appeared at the ready. Grace was faster than all three men, even despite Munroe's warning to stay behind them, and spotting Khu toppled over, her heart caved a second time.
"No… no, no, no…" She whispered, as she raced to his side, collapsing to her knees, "Baby… baby, it's okay. It's alright. I'm here… Oh, God…" Tears blurred her vision as she frantically looked around her for something anything to stem the flood of bleeding from his nose. Finally, she pulled down the sleeves of her sweatshirt, and pressed it to his face, as Munroe and Kristoff apprehensively approached the other man, still trying, in vain, to regain his faculties.
Khuyen wasn't even sure when he'd fallen. He knew he'd been swaying, his balance having caved in the excessive use of his powers. He'd only felt himself sway a little too far, then felt himself start to fall. Then, blacking out for a few seconds, he felt nothing at all. It had only been a few seconds of a gap in his concentration, but he'd quickly regained it, even if it meant laying on the ground as his vision blurred. It was only as he threatened to black out again that Grace's face came into view. Only then did he tear his eyes away from Asher and release his iron grip on the other man's senses. The process of what he'd done would begin to unravel, but it would likely take several minutes before Asher's sight and hearing returned to him. "Grace?" he asked softly, voice raspy. He reached up, taking a little longer than he normally might for the fact his eyes weren't quite focusing. He cupped her cheek in his hand, smiling up at her even with the blood on his face. She was safe. She was okay. Asher wasn't going to touch her.
He noticed Munroe and Kristoff enter his field of view as well. "He can't hear you. Or see you," he warned, before his eyes slid back to Grace.
His smile was heartbreaking, and the tears she was holding threatened to spill as she shook her head, her free hand reaching to brush the hair back from his slick forehead, "I'm here… You're okay."
"You can let him go, Khuyen." Munroe said, as Kristoff pinched the intruder by the back of his neck, lifting him up like a naughty kitten. Tall and imposing as Asher was, he was dwarfed by the giant, and whatever struggle might've come from him had dwindled with his senses blocked, "Take him to the holding grounds, Kristoff. Mikale… get him talking."
With their instructions given, the two men started off, amd with a heavy frown, Munroe looked back to Grace and Khuyen, "I need you to keep quiet about this. Both of you. Not even Oliver and Nick, Grace. Not until we've gotten some answers as to how this bastard got in. Can't risk unleashing panic down here, when we don't have enough to go off of. I'll come back when we've got more information… For now, sit tight..."
Nodding, no arguments forming in her mind, Grace watched as Munroe followed the other two, before she pushed back on her feet to help Khuyen up, voice still shaking lightly, "Come on… let's get you cleaned up…"
Khuyen leaned into her touch, eyes closing briefly. They reopened as he heard Munroe tell him he could let go. If he'd been able to hold on until then, he certainly would have. He hadn't quite made it to that though. "Already have," he admitted, shaking his head before immediately regretting the action for what it did to his pounding head and now swimming vision. "He's…." He gestured vaguely. He had a point to starting that sentence. He knew he did, but he couldn't think of it now. If he needed to, he'd tell Munroe later.
He nodded as well, wincing at the motion, as the trio left to deal with Asher. He took Grace's hand, starting to pull himself up before a wave of nausea slammed into him. "Ooookay, nope. Nope. I'm just gonna…" he didn't finish the sentence, instead laying back down with a hand over his mouth. He didn't move his hand from Grace's own.
"God… You big dumb idiot…" Grace murmured affectionately, "Why'd you go and do that for? You're all messed up, now." Fingers brushing back his hair again, she sighed, "I was already in love with you, show off…"…"
Khuyen chuckled softly, "Yeah, and I have to make sure I get the chance to enjoy that fact." He gently tucked some of her own hair behind her ear. "All this talk about the third date, and we don't even get to that? I can't have that, love, not on my watch." He smiled up at her. "Besides, it was worth it."
He took a deep breath. "Alright, let's try this again. I may or may not hurl, so watch out for that."
"Screw the third date rule… Someone risks their life for me like that? You better believe they've earned all of me…" Bracing his arm, she nodded, "Just ease into it… And try not to hurl. Kinda kills the sexy vibe you got going on…""
"I'll keep that in mind," he chuckled weakly. "Honestly, planet-sized ego aside, I don't feel too sexy right now," he admitted, bracing himself before slowly sitting up. Nausea churned through him again and he took a slow, deep breath. He braced one hand on the ground, head ducked as he waited for the worst of it to pass. Then, he slowly rose to his feet.
"Well… you are." She insisted, but the humor died from her voice as she gingerly led him to the stairs, "Anyone ever tell you… your powers are scary as hell, Khu? Like… Seriously. Scary."
"Honestly?" he asked, looking over at her as she led him back up the stairs. "I didn't know I could do that. I didn't know I could use it like that." He hadn't been thinking about it when he did it. Hadn't had time to think about it, either. He just...turned it off. "But yeah, I think… I could get that impression."
"Maybe just… just don't make a habit of it. Cause I think you kinda melted your brain a little." At the door, she pushed into the apartment, holding it open for him, "Bathroom. Let's get you cleaned up."
"It feels very melted," Khuyen admitted, not quite nodding for fear of sending his nausea over the edge. "Maybe even a little gooey." Truth be told, the only thing his brain felt like at the moment was painful. His head was throbbing as he managed to trudge into the apartment again. He followed her with little protest the bottom of his face starting to feel distinctly sticky.
In the bathroom, Grace led Khuyen to sit on the edge of the tub as she moved to the cabinet to fish a few towels from underneath. Warm water ran from the faucet, and wetting one of the towels, she settled down beside him, gingerly blotting away the red that marred his face, "...You… can't take risks like that, Khu. If that hadn't worked… if he had…" Trailing off, her eyes shifted to the red stains on the arm of her sweatshirt, and she grimaced.
Bracing himself with one hand as he sat, he took another breath. The nausea seemed to come in go in waves and the spotty vision wasn't exactly helping that particular situation either. "I know…" he admitted softly. "I just...how fucking dare he?" He cut himself off from continuing with a swear, resisting the urge to rub his face as she wiped away blood. "How many times does he get to come into your life and do horrible shit to you and get off scot-free?" he asked, voice shaking a little in resurfaced anger.
"...You think that you gettin' shot by that prick would've been less painful than any torture he could think up, Khu? I don't like bein' covered in your blood, okay…?" Looking up at him, her eyes softened as she shook her head, "So, sexy as it was, and as much as I appreciate it... don't make it a habit, alright?"
Khuyen was quiet as her words hit home. No, no it probably wouldn't have been less painful. Still, this was better than seeing her hurt. This wasn't anything Asher himself did. It was just the result of his powers. His gaze flicked briefly to her ear again, and he silently reminded himself that as soon as he felt like a human being again, he'd try to heal it. "Okay. I'll try, but no promises. Especially if he comes near you again," he replied, smiling softly. "I'd kiss you, but given that you said you're not super fond of being covered in my blood, I'll wait."
Biting her lip, she shook her head, her free hand gingerly brushing his cheek, pushing back his hair with a small sigh, "Just about cleaned up… How you feeling otherwise? Need something for the pain? Does… does it last long?"
"How I'm feeling otherwise? I think that the next time I'm laying down, I'm going to sleep for an entire week," Khuyen admitted. The exhaustion hadn't hit him full force yet, but the adrenaline was fading from his system and it was starting to seep in. "I won't say no to some Ibuprofen. I, uh… it kind of depends on how long it lasts. On how much I used it. It'll probably be a little while before I feel right again." He smiled at her. "But hey, whenever I come out of my mini-coma, I'll practically be brand new."
Frowning, Grace rose to her feet and moved to inspect the medicine cabinet, grabbing a bottle of Ibuprofen with a shake of her head, "...You could've gotten seriously hurt…" Dumping a few pills into her hand, she filled a cup with water and brought it over to him, holding out the pills with a hand that was still quivering, "...Or worse."
"I could've," he agreed after a moment as he watched her. "But I'm not." And it would've been worth it to him. It would be worth it, because at least it wasn't her that had gotten hurt. He gingerly took the cup and pills in hand. He knocked back the pills before taking a sip of water. "Thank you. For helping me back up and cleaning up… this," he continued, gesturing to his face.
Nodding weakly, Grace dropped down again, hands hanging over her knees, palms up. Her hands were tinged pink from the towel she'd used to clean his face, her sleeve scarlet. In her mind, she recalled another time, sitting on the edge of the tub… Feeling useless.
"...I couldn't do anything…" She whispered, with a shudder.
Khuyen's smile softened into something sadder. He scooted a little closer to her, arm curling around her. He rested his head atop hers, eyes closing briefly once again. "You did plenty, love," he assured her. "You saw him, didn't you? You're the one who noticed him. You're the one that played the biggest part in apprehending him. You got Munroe and the others, so that they could actually do something about the fact he was down here. You made sure no one else got hurt. Trust me, love, that's a lot more than nothing."
"And just about got you killed in the meantime… Exposed the whole damn underground to these creeps..." She murmured weakly, "Maybe… maybe I'm meant to be alone. Maybe it'd… it'd be safer." Eyes flickered to the side, staring into the tub. She could almost envision the water pouring over the edges… her mother, submerged body turning sickly purple…
"What, and you face people like that on your own?" Khuyen asked, brow furrowing. "No way. There's strength in numbers, love. Let us be your numbers." 'Let us be your strength' went unspoken. He was convinced that Grace was made entirely out of strength at this point, for what she'd went through and what the world seemed to keep putting her through. It still couldn't be easy taking it on her own, though. "Being on your own seems better, right up until it's not. Just surviving isn't living, Grace."
"...You melt your brain and still sound smart. That's just not fair." Sniffing softly, she shook her head, "I'm so sorry, Khu. I… I never meant to bring all this down on you." With a small sigh, she tipped her head to his shoulder, "...God… I'm whiny, too. You were willing to put yourself on the line for a whiny hot mess. What's that say about you?"
"It's alright, love. Trust me. I don't mind," Khuyen answered with a soft smile, hugging her a little closer. He snorted a laugh. "...Between you and me… I think you're a hot whiny mess, not a whiny hot mess." He then shook his head. "Probably that I'm needy and I kinda like you more than a little."
"...Why you gotta be sweet, when I'm trying, badly, to be self-deprecating?" Rising, she shook her head and pulled off the sweatshirt, before moving to the sink to wash her hands. Turning the water to hot, she let the pink filter away, down the drain, her eyes following it with a small frown on her lips, "How's the head? Any better…?"
"Because of the fact you're trying to be self-deprecating," Khuyen answered honestly with a smile. "Do you want one of mine?" he asked, gesturing to her sleeves. "My sweatshirts, I mean, since I've kind of messed up that one for now," he continued, clarifying. "It's a little better. Still waiting on the meds to kick in." It was, admittedly, better. It wasn't the near blinding pain it had been before and his vision had started to settle.
Absently, she stared into the sink, watching her hands shift from pale while to pink to red while the water ran hot against her skin. Without looking up, slowly, she bobbed her head in a small nod, "Yeah… that'd be nice. Don't get up, though. You need to rest…"
"I'll be alright. Besides, I hear the edges of tubs aren't great resting material," he joked lightly. He watched her, longer than he'd like to admit, as she stared into the sink. Then, frown creasing his features, he slowly brought himself to stand again. He braced a hand on the wall, waiting once again for his stomach to settle. "Come on. Let's find you a shirt."
"...I can't shake it." She murmured softly, still staring into the porcelain bowl, "...I know… I know you're fine, but hell… I can't shake the thought of… If… if something went wrong. If… if he'd…" It was bad enough, the thought that she'd brought down Oliver's safety net and dragged him into this mess… Now she'd nearly gotten Khu killed, too, "...You could've died."
Khuyen's frown deepened as he stilled. Then carefully, cautiously, he moved closer to her. "Yeah, I could've," he admitted. "I could've died a lot of other times before that, too. I could've died when my powers were found out, or when I used them on accident, or when I screwed up badly enough to have ended up here in the first place." He left out the bit about how he had actually very nearly died. He still had debts he owed around here, for what they'd done for him. "I think everyone here has had moments where they could've died, Grace. You can't blame yourself for that, though. You didn't open the door for Asher and tell him to go hog wild. He made his decisions all on his own. This isn't your fault, Grace," he continued, gesturing to his face and his once bleeding nose.
Swearing softly, Grace dropped her arms to her sides, water dripping from raw, red fingers as she stared up at the ceiling, jaw clenched against the trembling lower lip, "...Then why does it feel like my fault, Khu? Why does it always feel like my fault."
"Because it's easier to deal with than when something is out of your control," Khuyen answered, reaching over to gently turn off the water. "Because then you have someone to blame and someone to punish. You convince yourself it's better that way, when you hurt yourself, because you're teaching yourself a lesson. It seems like it works, too, until something else happens that you couldn't help and then the cycle restarts." He leaned against the wall for balance before gently taking her hands in his.
Sniffing softly, Grace shifted as he took her hand, her eyes shifting up to meet his gaze, "...So… so how do I break it? The cycle? Cause this sucks. All of it. Feeling like this. Being afraid. I just want it to stop…" Devon, her mom, her dad… Uncle Vito… Oliver… and now this. Time and time again, the world fought to take down her resolve. It was so hard not to blame… not to fear…
"There's different steps, and probably no real order to them," Khuyen admitted, gently squeezing her hands reassuringly, "but I think it would be a little like breaking a bad habit. You create a plan, find a substitute for its purpose, remove yourself from the situations that caused the bad habit, and find support." He smiled at her, gently brushing his thumbs over the back of her hands. "It's just a habit to break, love, even if it's not feeling very breakable."
"Melted your damn brain… and you're smart and better at life than half the people I've met in the entirety of mine? Khu… you sure you're even real?" Stepping closer, she sighed and reaching up, brushed her fingertips over his jaw, "Think it's risky to hope it's over? That… that he can't get to me anymore? That he can't hurt anyone else?"
Khuyen snorted, "Honestly, I think being a bartender has done wonders for my ability to be an adult. You just kinda...learn a lot from people and their experiences. But yeah, I'm real. Real gorgeous and definitely wanting to kiss you again." He winked at her, chuckling to himself. He shook his head, his hand following hers to gently thread his fingers through her own. He gently squeezed her hand. "I don't think it's risky to hope that. Even if it's not true yet, not true right now… it will be."
"It definitely hasn't hurt…" Shaking her head, she laughed softly, still a little shaky, and cupping his other cheek, met his eyes with a soft, but generous smile, "...And I'm not gonna stop you. Hell… you earned a whole lot more than that, tonight, baby." Brushing her thumb over her cheek, she sighed, "...But I dunno that I'm exactly ready for hope. Maybe… who knows. Just… not there tonight."
"No, it really hasn't. Sometimes it makes me feel a little old. Older than I am, since I've just been trucking along for 70 years now," he continued, grinning at her. Gingerly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her cheek, then he gave her a peck to the lips. "That's alright. Treat it like a stray cat. It's not going to come when called, so you just… have to create a place where it's welcome. One day, it'll come to you."
"Seventy? That's kinda rounding down, isn't?" She teased, before he leaned in. Savoring that brief show of affection, Grace let her eyes fall closed for a moment, resting her head to his shoulder with a gentle murmur of acknowledgement, "...I guess that makes sense. And I'm not half bad with stray cats, apparently." Straightening, she looked at him, eyes flickering through his, "...Feeling alright, now?"
Khuyen wheezed, bracing a hand to his chest in a display that would've been dramatic if he weren't desperately trying not to laugh. "Rounding down? Love, please, don't do this to me. Don't make me the dinosaur man. The ego… think of the ego," he protested with a grin. He hummed as she rested her head on his shoulder. "See, you're already a step ahead. You know how to lure the cats in," he chuckled. "Better, but still not great. I'm probably going to stop existing the moment I lay down, because I'll go into a tiny coma. But it's all part of the process."
"You just saved the underground for a psychopath, Khu. You really think your ego's gonna have any trouble over the next few days?" With a chuckle, she shook her head, "And I didn't exactly lure the cat in… I tried t rob the cat's owner, and she kinda got attached to me, when he was decent enough to feed my sorry butt." Her fingers slid down to take his hand and nodded, she gave him a gentle tug, "...Then let's get you back to bed… cause I'm gonna need you fully rested when I thank you proper, soon as you're back to full strength..."
"I mean… I think it could always use a little extra attention… Besides, it responds so well to you." He'd ducked his head, looking up at her through his lashes as a sly smile painted his lips. "I mean...that works too," he choked on a laugh. He smiled as she tugged at him, and he ignored the throbbing pain in his skull as she started to lead him back to the bedroom. "I like the sound of that," he purred, even as he winced a little after a particularly bad spike of pain.
Once she'd returned him to the bedroom, and helped him to the mattress, she sank beside him, fingers brushing back his hair, "I love you, Khu. But if you ever try anything like this again… I might kick your ass, myself. Rest up… I'll be right here. Waiting…"
"So long as it's with love," Khuyen chuckled. His eyelids drooped, the full weight of his exhaustion starting to press into his bones. The adrenaline had long faded, and the need to sleep had come crashing in. He was thankful Grace had helped him to begin with, or he would've probably flopped face down on his bed, half hanging off of it, and not moved for two days. Remembering their earlier conversation, he shucked off his jeans with a cheeky, if not very weary, smile. He'd crawled under the covers, smiling up at her. "See you soon," he whispered, and then with hardly any warning, he was out like a light.
"Tease…" She murmured, as she pulled the covers over him. With a shake of her head, she pulled her knees to her chest and almost unblinking, sat watch…
Her vigil would last for quite some time. The hours crawled by, first one, then two, which then turned into four and eight. Morning had come and gone, and much of the afternoon as well. All the while, Khuyen was eerily still. He hardly moved throughout his deep dreamless sleep. A twitch here, the flutter of eyelids there, but overall, little movement betrayed the fact that Khuyen was still in fact alive and breathing. If it weren't for the slow, deep breathing that exited his mouth, he could be believed dead. It was sometime close to when the sun would be setting in the world above that he finally began to stir.
True to her word, Grace didn't move… not for tge entire time. Her muscles ached, her mind churned, but she didn't leave his side, even for a moment. As he stirred, she straightened, concern mingling with relief at the sight, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Casanova…"
Khuyen's eyes slowly cracked open, and he tried to break through the mental fog that clouded his thoughts. His gaze slid up to Grace, and there were several beats of silence before a sluggish smile formed on his face. "Hey," he greeted, voice a little raspy from disuse. Another few seconds passed before he reached a hand towards Grace, his movement a bit sloth-like. "...What time is it?" he asked, squinting as he tried to process something other than the absolute basic necessities.
Without hesitating, though lacking the speed she might have possessed outside of a twelve hour vigil, Grace took his hand, eyes moving to her watch, "Gettin' late again. You slept the whole day, sweetie…"
"...Did I really?" he asked, clearly not quite firing on all cylinders just yet. He turned to look behind him, as if he'd be able to see the sun from his window. It took a few more beats of silence on his part before it clicked that he wouldn't be able to tell anything about the time from his window. "Wow," he said simply. He started to shuffle closer to her, like some sleepy heat-seeking gremlin, before wrapping his arms around her torso.
Expression softening, Grace shifted, unraveling from her sentry position to curl up beside Khu, laying a hand on his chest and her head dropped to his shoulder, "Scared me… for a little while there." She murmured, fingertips dancing along his collar, "You were really out."
"Sorry," he whispered, watching with a pleased smile as she curled up next to him. "Didn't mean to scare you," he added in assurance. He gently brushed some of her loose hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "...Grace, how long have you been waiting on me to wake up?"
Biting the edge of her lip Grace gave a small shrug, as nonchalant as she could manage in the moment, "Dunno… maybe a few hours. Lost track of time after a while."
Khuyen pursed his lips, watching her expression as she answered. For some reason, he didn't quite buy that. So he tried a different route. "Have you eaten anything today? I know it would've been hard, with it not being my amazing omelettes..." he chuckled, trailing off as he shook his head.
"I uh…" Breathing out, she smiled dryly, pretty sure there was a point to the interrogation, "I wasn't really hungry. Kinda slipped my mind…"
Khuyen's eyes narrowed a touch. "Grace. Did you… You said I slept the whole day, right?" he asked. It was that moment that his own stomach chose to growl audibly, giving a relatively accurate impression of how hungry he was now that he was awake. "Grace, have you been back here all day?"
Wincing at the all too accurate suggestion, she burrowed slightly into his shoulder, largely to avoid the scrutiny in his eyes, "I'm fine. I was… I was worried about you."
"Grace," he scolded lightly, "you have to eat." He frowned as she burrowed into his shoulder, torn between staying right here and getting up to poke food into her mouth. Eventually, the latter won out. "Nope, come on. No snuggles until you eat something." He started to pull away, to sit up and look around the room to find his pants.
"Bossy…" Grace mused, with a small, sheepish smile, "I've gone weeks without a decent meal, Khu.You really think a few hours is gonna take me down?" As he sat up, she did as well, meeting his gaze, warmth flooding through her, "...Big damn heroes don't cook. Lay down. I can get us something…"
"You bet I'm bossy," Khuyen protested, lips pursed as he looked over at her. "Just because you have gone weeks before doesn't mean you have to do it now. I'd kinda prefer you didn't not eat for several hours." He raised an eyebrow, one foot already poking out from under the covers to grab his pants. "... That sounds like the argument of a woman who's trying to get more snuggles before she eats something."
"It's the argument of a woman trying to take care of her big dumb boyfriend, who tried to get himself killed by being noble." She smiled faintly, reaching out to poke the tip of his nose, "Point is...I'm not gonna die cause I skipped a meal or two. I can't cook omelets, but I'm sure you got something I can throw together. Just… sit tight, okay? Please? Let… let me do this."
Khuyen pouted, even as she booped him on the nose, "Maybe you won't die, but it doesn't mean I have to like it." He seemed to be considering her words, still pouting, before he relented. "Okay," he said eventually. "Am I allowed out of the bed, or are you going to insist on," he glanced at the clock, "dinner in bed?"
Chuckling, she nodded, "You stay put. I'll be back in a minute or two…" Leaning forward, she pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, before slipping out of the room. She wasn't gone long - in the pantry, she found a box of toaster pastries and some cereal, as well as apples, oranges and a bowl of strawberries from the fridge. Gathering these up, she made her way back to the bedroom, and set the small feast on the bedside table.
"You eat like a six year old…" She mused, with a small grin, before popping open the poptarts and holding one out to him, "How're you feeling"
"Alright," he answered in surrender as she slipped away. He settled into his blankets, idle as he waited for her to come back. He snorted, as she came back into the room with food and commented on his eating habits. "You can leave me and my 17 different boxes of sugary cereal alone," he protested, pointing a finger at her. "I told you there's only so much I can cook." He plucked a Poptart from the box, unwrapping it before taking a bite from one. "Much better than I did when I laid down."
"Good…" She nodded, as she took her own package from the box and sitting back, pulled off a corner of it to take a bite, "...And I'm not complaining. This is still better than half the crap I used to eat when I was… on the road." She had pulled things out of places that still gave her chills to think about, "You really worried me, Khu.. you know?"
"Yeah, no more mystery meals for you. Even if it's just me being stupid and sticking something from a can or jar onto noodles, I'm gonna make it happen," Khuyen chuckled, sliding closer to her once she'd taken a Poptart for herself. "Now the only mystery is what the hell it is about these that makes me want twenty," he added, holding up his now half eaten pastry. His brow furrowed in remorse for making her worry. "Sorry. Didn't mean to. I've never… gone quite that far before."
Chuckling, Grace nodded, "That sounds good. I'm pretty used to the packaged stuff, anyway. Kinda think it's what's kept me alive. Some sort of radioactive thing, no doubt. Probably why they're so addictive, to." Grinning, now, she leaned back on her elbows, "You don't have to apologize. I get why you did it… I just… It scared me, is all. And I want you to know, cause… cause I want you to understand how much you mean to me, Khu…"
"Oh definitely. Something radioactive that'll give me a horrible condition if I get addicted, which too late, I already am," Khuyen snorted, tearing off another chunk of it to eat. He'd shuffled close enough to her that their shoulders were now touching. He looked over at her once again, pausing in devouring his Poptart. He gave her a warm smile. "I think I'm starting to. Understand that, I mean," he admitted.
Her smile softened, as he shuffled closer, and tipping her head to his shoulder, she sighed, genly, "I'm not used to it… caring about people. Not this way. God… I saw Asher and my first though was what if he got to Ollie, you know? It's… it's not like it's a bad thing, but life was definitely easier when I didn't give a damn about anyone…" Biting her lip, she smirked, "Thought it was easier, anyway."
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head as she rested it on his shoulder. "I hear that it's one of those things that kind of grows on you, caring about people," he joked lightly. "Maybe it was easier, but was it as nice as being around people you care about, in spite of the risks?" He seemed to pause, considering something. "...Speaking of Ollie, did you… tell him you weren't going to be back for a little while? With… everything that happened this morning? Because he might not hate me, but that doesn't mean I'm safe from trees, Grace."
"I didn't text him, yet…" She murmured softly, shaking her head, "Kind of… was afraid to. I… Munroe didn't want me to say anything about Asher, but I feel weird, keeping it from Ol and Nick. Feel weird about this whole damn thing." It was unnerving, to say the least, but she didn't want to throw anyone into a panic, and she definitely didn't want to make Oliver worry over nothing, "...I'll text him in a bit. Just… just let him know I'm okay. But you shouldn't worry. You're safe, so long as you're with me."
"...That's fair," he admitted after a moment. "I take it that means Munroe hasn't come back with any news then?" The entire situation was worrying. He found himself curious too, as to how Asher had exactly gotten in. They had systems in place, but then again, how much did it take to find a way in if you knew where to look? "Please. I like living," he pleaded. "...Oh good, so now I just have to worry when I'm alone. Good to know."
"Nothing yet, no. I got the impression he wasn't gonna slow play the interrogation, though. I'm guess Asher has a lot to talk about. That, or they're lettin' him stew for a bit, and tryin' to build up some tension." Grinning, she turned towards him, looking up at him with an innocent shrug, "...Guess you're just never gonna be able to leave my side, then... Think you can live with that?"
"Either one could work. I personally think he's probably got plenty to say about what happened this morning, but none of it's nice," he mused with a small smile. He mirrored her grin, curling an arm around her. "You know… I think I can. Are you going to be able to live with me never leaving your side, though? I told you I'm needy, Grace," he teased.
With a chuckle, Grace nodded, "Honestly, yeah. I think I could live with that. And I don't mind needy… I'm a cat person, remember?" Nose wrinkling slightly, she shifted, pulling herself close enough to press a kiss to his lips, "...Don't go away, okay?"
"So now I'm your cat, huh?" he asked, chuckling softly. He returned the kiss gently, fond expression on his face. "Wouldn't dream of it, love. There's nowhere I'd rather be," he purred, pressing another kiss to her cheek.
"I mean… you're cute enough, but you don't quite have Maisy's level of sass." With a grin, she leaned into the kiss, "Mm, same. Actually… no. Not quite." With a smirk, Grace shifted again and settled herself comfortably on the man's lap, arms lazily looped over his shoulders, "Now there's nowhere I'd rather be."
Khuyen snorted, shaking his head at her. He lifted a brow, intrigued up until she'd settled onto his lap. "You just wanted to sit on my pretty legs," he teased, hands resting on her hips. He looked up at her, from where she sat on top of him, with an amused smile.
Fingertips tracing the contour of his jaw, before trickling along his collar, then down his arms, Grace shook her head, "Do you have even half a clue how amazing you are? How… how you changed my world?"
"I might have half a clue, but I think I could stand to hear you tell me," he teased, a lazy smile crawling over his lips. His breath caught as he felt her fingers graze his jaw, then his collar and arms.
"...I never thought I'd meet someone like you… I never thought I'd have anything like this, Khu. This… happiness. That I can… I can go through what I did. Everything I did and still… still feel so much good…" Her hands dropped from his arms, gingerly brushing the hem of his shirt, her eyes meeting his.
Khuyen's smile softened further as she talked, his gaze warm as it met with hers. Gently he slid his hands up from her hips, to her waist, then up her back. "I told you, love. You deserve good things," he murmured. His gaze flicked down to where her hands brushed up the hem of his shirt, before his eyes shifted up again to meet her own. A sliver of a cheeky smile curled at the corner of his lip.
"So do you, Khu… I don't know what I did to deserve you... But hell if I don't wanna give you so many good things..." She murmured softly, and her hands rested to his sides, before gripping the shirt and giving it a tug upwards.
A breath escaped him as she pulled his shirt off, hands lifting from their place on her back until the fabric was gone. His hands soon returned there, sliding underneath her own shirt to graze over the skin. He leaned in, softly kissing her neck once then twice. He paused, his mouth close enough to her ear that she could feel his breath. "...Is this the third date, love? I'm not sure. Can't quite recall," he teased in a whisper, fighting a grin.
With a small laugh, Grace shook her head, fingertips brushing along the warmth of his skin, "...Oh, baby… If I said no, you would be so, so sad." Fingers curling into his hair, she leaned close to him, "...Third… fourth… fifth… I don't care. I just… I love you, so damn much."
One hand lifted to the back of her neck, sliding into her hair. "Oh, now that's not fair. You're using magic words on me," he purred against her neck. He pressed one kiss to that spot where his lips had brushed against her skin before trailing more along her jaw. "I love you too," he echoed, voice low as he slid both hands back up her back, lifting her shirt as he went.
"Oh… I know." She grinned against his lip, tipping her head as his lips found her jaw, "I know exactly…" Arms above her head, she let the shirt slide free, and winding her arms around his neck, she pulled herself flush against him, lips meeting his.
"So, so very unfair," Khuyen murmured, though it didn't sound at all like he was complaining. His eyes slid closed, returning the kiss. Even as she was flush against him, he tried to pull her closer. It didn't feel like enough, even as close as they were. He pulled away, almost reluctantly, before his eyes traced downwards. Admiration glowed behind his eyes as they traced ever downward, taking in the sight, before they returned to Grace's face.
Cheeks lightly flushed, Grace's smile softened, as she brushed her fingertips along his jaw, delicate and warm, "...Hey… Khu?"
"Yes?" He tilted his head up at her touch. He watched her intently, breath shallow almost for fear of breaking this spell.
"...Thank you… for… for showing me what it means to have value." Breathing in, forehead to his, her eyes closed again, fingers brushing along the side of his jaw, "...I never understood… till right now, how much that could mean."
"You're welcome," he breathed, eyes closing as well as their foreheads touched. Slowly and carefully, his hands slid down to brace on either side of Grace. "But, love, I haven't even begun to show you your value," he continued, a wicked grin spread across his face. Then, pushing himself forward, he switched their positions to where he was now once again hovering over Grace, hands braced on either side of her.
Her breath escaped in a shudder, eyes opening to meet his, as the corner of her lip raised just slightly. She'd done this. She'd been here before. And it had never ever felt like this. It had never held this weight… this depth… And she wasn't entirely sure there was a better feeling on the planet, "...What are you waiting for, then?"
He breathed in, relishing her reaction as the tables turned. Soon, his lips once again found their place at her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, and her shoulder. "For a green light," Khuyen admitted, looking up with hooded eyes and a sly smile.
Breathless, Grace laughed again, fingers digging gently into his shoulders as she gave a firm nod of her head, "...Baby, you've had it. Hell, you've had it for days, now."
"Guess I've got time to make up for, then," he chuckled softly. His touch was tender and gentle against her skin, as loving and affectionate as when he'd first told her in no uncertain terms that he'd loved her. He treated her with a soft touch, not as if she were fragile, but because to him she was precious. For all that he had wanted to take earlier in the day for her sake, it was now matched by how much he wanted to give. By the time that all was said and done, he hoped that he had shown her the true meaning and feeling of value. And if she didn't, he assured her he'd be happy to show her again and again.
Khuyen laid beside her, arms curled around her as his gaze was soft and sweet. He pressed a tender kiss to her lips, just as gentle as before, and eventually pulled away to once again savor the sight before him.
Washed clean. That was how it felt. Like all the trash and grime and hurt had been washed away...and in the peaceful aftermath, Grace felt… new. Absurdly, a part of her wanted to cry. Not because anything was sad or painful… but because for the first time, she could lay in the moment without wondering. How would she slip out unnoticed? Did they even care? Was it worth the bits of soul it cost?
No questioned buzzed in her mind. No fears.
Threading her fingers through his, she smiled warmly, a contented sigh escaping her lips, "I'm gonna stay…" she whispered, hesitant to break the silence, "I… I wanna stay. In the underground…"
Khuyen had laced his fingers through hers in return, smiling at her warmly. His eyes widened in surprise, relief flooding through him from a worry soothed that he had forgotten he'd had. He'd forgotten how new she was here, how her place here wasn't necessarily permanent. He breathed out, "You do?" The smile returned, relieved and fond all at once. He might've said that the Underground would be glad to have her, but given their current situation, he was sure he could afford to be a touch more personal.
"I'm glad you do." The understatement of the century was what that was. But he was glad. Extremely glad. "Guess I really do get to stay by your side all the time now," he murmured, smile growing larger and more crooked by the moment. "...You know there's stuff you'll have to talk to Munroe about, right?" Initiations were always a big thing when someone decided to stay. He was sure she would do fine, but still. It was a concern to be had.
"I know…" With a nod, she rested her chin on his chest,considering his words for a moment, "Kinda figured there'd be some kinda initiation process. But I'll do it. I'll do whatever I need to, Khu. I just… I wanna stay." Permeance was terrifying, but the thought of leaving scared her more than anything, and that, she knew, was too great a thing to ignore.
"You think… you think they'll want me?"
"Don't worry. Initiations aren't bad," he assured her with a smile. His fingers still laced through hers, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Just play to your strengths," he added, before tilting his head. His smile widened and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Oh, I know they'll want you, love," he answered, lips very nearly brushing against her skin before he started to pull away.
"I can imagine with a guy like Munroe in charge, they're probably a real adventure." She chuckled, and as he leaned in, she smiled warmly, his words washing over her with a wave of comfort, "You do, do you? And what makes you so sure…" Grinning, slightly sly, she looked up at him, "What exactly are my strengths, Casanova?"
"Adventure is probably one way to put it," Khuyen snorted in response. He cracked a grin, chuckling and shaking his head. "Well, I can think of several strengths off the top of my head, but I think I'd be a little jealous if you happened to show anyone else those," he teased. "Your strength...is resilience. You keep picking yourself up, no matter what."
"See… you go and make it sweet, and I just dunno what to do with you, Khu…" With a soft smile, she leaned in to steal a kiss, before dropping her cheek to his chest again, a soft sigh escaping, "Don't think you ever need to worry about being jealous, though. I'm pretty hooked… you know?"
"Gotta keep mixing it up, so you don't get bored," Khuyen teased. "I have to keep you guessing." He ran his fingers through her hair, clutching her close as she rested against his chest again. He ran his fingers over her back and side, touch feather light. "Good," he hummed, "because I'm pretty hooked too. I'm definitely getting used to having a cute girl in my bed."
"I'd never get bored… You're so many things at once, it's a wild ride every time I talk to you…" She teased, with a grin. Arm sloping over his chest, she chuckle, "As long as I'm the cute girl, that sounds fine by me… Especially if I get a repeat performance like that every time…"
"That means it's working, then," Khuyen answered with his own grin. "What other cute girl would there be, love? You're easily my favorite, and besides… you're always here so there's no chance for there to even be another girl in my bed," he teased back. "Of course. Just let me know when you want an encore, love."
"Ha!" Poking his side gently, she grinned up at him again, "Not my fault you made me wait for fourteen third dates before all this. Trust me, you wouldn't have had to be such a roller coaster if you'd done this earlier. I'd never leave." Chuckling, she kissed his collar bone, before pushing herself upright, "I'd take an encore right now, but I'm actually gonna go shoot Ollie a text. Just so he's not worrying too much."
He threw his head back in a laugh, eyes screwing shut, "It wasn't fourteen! You just want every chance meeting to be a date, love, and while I'm not opposed to that for the most part…. I've got to keep official count for the third date rule." He stuck his tongue out at her, shaking his head. "So you're not going anywhere then? Because all jokes aside, I'm definitely attached now. Third date down, and I'm committed, Grace," he added, laughing despite his comment about not joking. "Yeah, let's make sure I'm safe from trees, before I get caught with him at my door demanding to know where you are."
Laughing softly, Grace shook her head, "Baby… You would literally have to knock me out and throw me out on the porch at this point. I'm not going anywhere." Shifting, she rolled out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her as she looked back at him with a small grin, "... I mean, I'm going to get my phone, but… other than that, I'm not going anywhere."
"Good. I definitely don't plan on kicking you on the porch any time soon," Khuyen purred, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. He watched her with a admiring smile as she slid from the bed, sheet wrapped around her. "I'll be here, waiting. In the meantime… those Reese's Puffs are looking pretty good right about now."
Grinning, she nabbed the box and tossed it to him, before slipping out to find her phone. She was gone for a few minutes, and when she returned again, she flopped down beside Khuyen and held out her palm, nodding to the cereal, "Alright. I told him that I wasn't kidnapped and there was no need to uproot trees and have them come stomping to your doorstep like in that super long movie with the elves. I'll talk to him later… about the whole… Asher thing. You think he'll be pissed I kept it from him?"
Khuyen caught it with a grin, popping it open and digging a hand inside. It came back up with a handful of dry peanut-buttery cereal, which he promptly popped in his mouth. He offered the box to her with a smile as she plopped down beside him. "Good. No trees at my door, thank you please," he chuckled. He pursed his lips, considering. "Maybe a little? Hopefully he'll understand, given the fact we were told not to spread this information for a while."
A sigh escaped, and she nodded, dropping her head onto his shoulder, "It's weird, caring about people. I kinda feel like I've got one of those conscience things, now…" With a small chuckle, she popped a piece of cereal into her mouth, "Hopefully they'll be done with Asher soon… so we can get all this overwith. I hate it. Knowing he's here…"
"Oh no, a conscience! How horrible," he snorted in response. He wrapped an arm around her, settling the box of cereal just between them where it would stay propped up for them both to reach. "It'll be over before you know it, love. He'll be a distant memory."
"Right? It's gross. I actually like… wanna be decent to people, and care about their feelings. God. How do I get rid of this thing?" With a laugh, she tipped her head to the side to kiss his cheek, "And thanks. I know…. I'm just… wicked ready for that distant to be… way distant."
"Oh no, eww. How dare there be feelings?" Khuyen cackled, grinning over at her. "I know. One step at a time. You'll get there. They're probably just making sure they can get everything they can from him." He laid there for a short while, arms curled around her and snuggled close, before eventually reaching back for the cereal box for another handful.
"What do you think they'll do with him… after the get the info out of him?" She asked, with a note of uncertainty. She couldn't imagine they were the sort of people to kill a man, even one who deserved it, but as far as she knew, they didn't have the capacity for long term holding… and letting him go was just absurd.
"...I'm not sure, honestly," Khuyen admitted after several long beats of silence. As far as he had been aware, there weren't exactly a lot of incidents like this. He wondered, briefly, if there was someone around that dealt with telepathy, or memories. If they could take out Asher's memory of the Underground, that could at least take out one threat. Ultimately, he wasn't sure what they'd do.
"Wonder… wonder if Munroe would tell me, if I asked. Just… you don't think they'd let him go, right? I mean, I dunno what else they'd do to him, but can they even hold him?" Shaking her head, she shifted slightly, feeling a discomfort pooling in her chest, "Ugh. I don't wanna think about it. Nevermind." Fingers running through her hair, she frowned slightly, "...I should hop in the shower…" Looking to Khu, she smiled, "...You should, too."
"I mean… if you really want to know, I don't think it could hurt to ask. Worst comes to worst, he just won't tell you," Khuyen said softly, a gentle frown creasing his face. He glanced down at her, a sly smile crawling across his lips. "Well, you know…" he started, "since we both need one, we might as well save water…"
Nodding, she reached to take his hands and help him upright, "Yeah… I'm big into conservation now. Cause I have a conscience, and all… It's a struggle, but, someone has to be the hero, right?"
"Of course. We have to save the planet. Good deeds to go with your brand new conscience," Khuyen chuckled, a wicked grin across his face. He pulled himself into sitting up, his hands in hers even after the fact. "The world does need more heroes."
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
"You're a very bad man, Mr. Asher… Not my favorite sort of person… I've gotta say." Standing before the man, Munroe crossed his arms over his chest, studying the intruder with a look of quiet scrutiny. His faculties had resolved themselves after roughly an hour or two, and with hearing and sight restored, he seemed to have regained the cold composure he was apparently known for. Tapping his chin, Munroe took a step back, "What I need from you… are some answers. You see… I know that while you are a despicable human being and a stain on the face of this fine planet, I also know fully well that you are not working alone. Nor do I believe for a moment you are in charge. That said… what you're going to do is tell me what your madman of a boss, Jeremiah Kane wants with the mutants he is hunting down… and exactly who is helping him achieve these goals. You can waste time… mine and yours. That's fine. But know the longer you wait… The more impatient I may become. And I tend to get cranky when I'm impatient… don't I Kristoff?"
The massive hulk of a man nodded from his place by the door of the dimly lit chamber, "A real beast, this guy… Lona's on her way, boss."
"Wonderful… I'm sure Asher here is looking forward to the reunion."
"With that bitch?" Asher spit, "Pass…"
Hand snapping out, Munroe caught the man by his throat, eyes narrowing just slightly, finger clenched tightly enough that Asher's strangled gasp was the only sound he could make, "You're gonna need to refrain from calling her that around me. Clear?"
Releasing him, Munroe stepped back again, "Let's get started…"
It was at this moment that Helona slipped into the dimly lit room. "You called?" she greeted, head tilted as she caught sight of Munroe and she closed the door behind her. Then her eyes slid to Asher. She straightened, eyes narrowing as her expression chilled. "David," she greeted with a certain degree of familiarity, that cold smile she so frequently wore when working under Kane finding its way onto her lips again. She clicked her tongue. "I wish I could say it was good to see you, but I think I've done quite enough lying for quite some time." Her callous smile grew just a fraction.
"I hate to say it, but I really think I'm one of those 'call me before you come by for a visit' people.You have to give a woman some warning," she added.
"Well," Asher seethed, jaw grit at the sound of his proper name, "You know how it is. You left in such a hurry. How's the shoulder? How's Phae? He dad misses her, you know… Won't next time, though." Eyes shifting to Helona, his lip twitched into a smirk, "How's it feel to know you've wrecked everything for that poor kid?"
"We'll be handling the questions." Munroe stated plainly, and with a roll of his shoulders, he stepped closer, arms clasped behind his back, "What does Kane want with the mutants he's hunting?"
"Hey, Lona… If this is your boyfriend, who's that shmuck you brought to the office Christmas party?" Asher asked, with a tilt of his head.
"I did leave pretty quickly, didn't I? Getting shot at does wonders for someone's urgency, as I'm sure you can imagine. I left you a farewell gift to remember me by, though," Helona commented with that vicious smile. She steeled herself, expression betraying nothing, as Asher started in with Phaedra. "Wrecked everything? You know, that's an interesting way to look at it. I would've thought her getting shot point blank by her own father would've been the real wrecking ball to her life. But hey, life must be a wild ride when you live with blinders on and worship the ground Kane walks on."
"But since we're catching up, how's Jackson? I imagine he had a pretty shitty weekend. Oh, and Anderson, and the entire information hub room? How's that situation going?" she asked. She simply smiled, something glacial behind her eyes. "Don't worry about it, Asher. Answer his question," she added, nodding her head towards Munroe.
"She never would've known the kinda monster she is, if you'd stayed out of her life. And even if she had, well… she'd have been quietly disposed of. Now… now she'll be hunted down. Live every day of her miserable, short life wondering which will be the last." Grinning almost playfully, he shrugged, "I wouldn't know. Boss put a bullet in both of them when he realized they helped you get the freaks out over the weekend… Damn shame, too. I hear Jackson's fiance is expecting."
Shaking his head, Munroe moved pointedly, angling himself between Asher and Helona, "The question… or I'm going to stop being friendly."
"He'll take Nora, next, Lona. You know that, right? Can't stand that all this time she's had a freak under her nose and kept it quiet…"
"Wow, and here I thought you might have actually halfway cared about her like a human being. Should've known there's only room in your shriveled heart for your master. Has he given you a treat lately, David? Told you that you were a good boy? You're such a loyal dog, after all," Helona snarled with a roll of her eyes. "What happened to Ass-er the chauffeur?" she asked, head tilting as her eyes narrowed slightly.
It felt like her heart stopped, ice sliding through her veins. He wouldn't. But he would. Kane would do it in a heartbeat. No loose ends, no weak links, no doubts. And she had created doubt. It didn't matter if Kane actually had done it. For all she knew, Asher was just playing with her. She knew he was capable of it, though. She knew he'd do it if it he thought he needed to in order to maintain order. "Unfortunate. An occupational hazard that comes with associating with Kane, no doubt," she said dryly. "Though I wonder, what it would take for him to turn against even you. You're not safe, Asher. You never were." The soldier mask slid into place, giving away nothing. As far as she was concerned now, there was nothing to give away. Do what needed to be done, and process later.
She needed to stop, even as she noted that singular flash of white hot anger that drove through her the more Asher talked. He was just stalling. He was using her as a distraction, and hoping to get a rise from her in the process. This was Asher's favorite game. It didn't matter if it ended up worse for him. He delighted in it, getting a reaction. He'd play with fire up until he was burned, and even then, once it stopped stinging, he'd start again.
"Answer him, Asher," she said coldly, expression steely. She took a step back as Munroe angled himself between the two of them. She wasn't helping. She was just providing the distraction Asher wanted. "Because between you and me? That's the person you should really be focused on." And as for Nora being next on the blacklist? She knew. She knew all too well.
Grinning wider, Asher shook his head, twisting his neck to peer around Munroe to see Helona, "Bothers you, doesn't it? Knowing you got them killed. Might as well have pulled the trigger yourself, Helona. Occupational hazard? More like the collateral damage of a reckless mole. And what's pathetic is, you think you actually did good. But you don't know Kane like I do. You don't know what he's truly capable of. He'll burn the world to the ground to take you down. You. Phaedra. Willis and the girl. He'll rip it to shreds… for the pure satisfaction of getting his hands around your neck." Leaning back, he shrugged, "I personally hope he's the type to screw around with you a little, before he does… cause I'd love to watch you squ--"
Munroe's fist collided with Asher's nose, a noisy crack resounding through the room and as blood interrupted dialogue, the latter swore, "That's about enough…" Munroe stated, calmly, his eyes narrowing just slightly, "The question. Now."
"...He wants to end them. All of them. Every last one…" Asher's lips split into a sick smile, blood leaching between his teeth, "You can't protect them all, can you…"
Helona let the ice of her mask fill her veins, the chill calming her flaring temper into a blissful numbness. Staring back at Asher now wasn't the regular woman trying to make do; it wasn't the mother who would do anything for her son. It wasn't even the woman who'd walked into the lion's den and played the game and came out again, every bit thankful to the young girl that had saved her life. This was the soldier that could make kill-shots and make orders in war. This was the sniper that was lying in wait, watching for the perfect shot. The stone of her expression hardly moved as Asher kept talking, save for a quirk of an eyebrow.
She'd considered speaking again, but Munroe quite literally beat her to the punch. Intrigue flashed over her face as she noted the man's still cool demeanor, before her eyes flicked back to Asher.
She'd figured as much, but hearing the words, hearing it from one of Kane's lieutenants' own mouth? It was worse than her own understanding of the situation. She shoved the words back, filing them away neatly for another time. She'd process later. She was silent, letting them continue. She had her own questions, but she could wait.
"Seems to me…" Munroe continued, shaking out his wrist with a casual shrug, "That he's not doing so well on that front. Which begs the question… what does he intend to do now? Especially seeing as he's lost his GPS."
"He won't stop hunting them. He'll just find another method. And he'll start… with this place." Grinning, Asher shrugged, "Can't escape the storm that's coming…"
"He'll start here?" Helona asked, voice smooth as ice. "And how exactly would he know to come here?" Her head tilted as she stared Asher down. "You don't honestly think you're getting out of here to go tattle, do you? Because Asher… If I walked into the lion's den, then you?" A cold laugh slipped through her lips. "Well, let's just take a look at what's already happened. Remind me what condition they brought you here in again. I'm not sure I got all the details the first time around." Her gaze slipped briefly to Munroe before returning to Asher. "I could have sworn I heard the words 'blind and deaf'."
"What makes you think if I found this place, they won't? What makes you so sure, Helona? Endearing as your confidence is, you really have no idea the methods Kane possesses. The things that man can do." Chuckling, Asher spat, blood and saliva hitting the concrete floor at Munroe's feet, "If I tracked you… he won't be far behind, and when he gets here, he's going to torch this little hovel to the ground."
Gaze even, Munroe looked back at Helona with a small smirk, "...Poor guy. Doesn't know what he's up against, does he?"
"Endearing as your idolatry of Kane is," Helona began, "you're missing the point. Yes, he has incredible resources, but he keeps losing them, doesn't he? Or killing them. Even if he weren't, there's still one pesky detail." Her gaze met Munroe's, eyes warming just a touch. "Kane doesn't know the half of what kind of hell he's up against. He really, really doesn't," she added in agreement with Munroe.
"But since you brought it up, I'm curious. How did you find me?" she asked. "Consider it a conversation between old coworkers, if you like."
With a chuckle, dry and humorless, Asher shook his head, "You really think I'm gonna tell you anything? This is what I do for a living, Helona. This is my job. And while I have to admire that the two of you seem willing to get your hands dirty, I highly doubt you have the stomach to take this to the level necessary to get me talking. So do yourselves a favor and piss off…"
"It was worth a shot," Helona said with a light shrug. "As for pissing off, nah." She ended up crouching on her haunches, squatting to about eye level with Asher in the chair. She folded her arms across her thighs, resting them there. There she sat for a decent amount of time in total silence. She seemed to be searching for something in Asher's face.
"Can I tell you a secret, Asher? About what they tell you in the military when you've been deployed for the first time?" she asked, voice just more than a rasp of a whisper. She paused for a while, as if waiting for an answer, before continuing. "Your enemy is not who you should fear the most. The enemy is bound in the laws of war. They will not be honest, they will not be kind, and they will not be merciful. They will take you down to the root and then some if given the chance. But they are not the ones that will tear you limb from limb. That's the civilians. That's the casualties."
"You don't believe them at first," she continued, voice even and eerily soft still. "You'll think 'no, the enemy is the greatest threat to me.' You'll continue to think that, until you can't anymore. You'll think that until you see a group maul a man because he has food. You'll think that until you hear a mother scream in agony because her child was caught in the crossfire, and then you see nothing but the purest hatred in her eyes." She paused, taking a deep slow breath. "You'll think that, until you realize that uprooting lives makes people afraid and desperate. The more you do, the more you destroy, the more people in this world with nothing to lose. You say I don't have the stomach. Maybe I don't. I don't need it, regardless. All it takes is going up against the wrong person that's willing to do anything to survive."
"You claim Kane's ruthlessness is his power. I say it's his doom." That cold, callous smile formed again on her lips. "But you'll never believe me until it's too late. You'll just tell me it's a nice speech and tell me to piss off again." She shrugged. "At least I tried."
With a small smirk, Asher met Helona's gaze, and his shoulders bounced in a small shrug, "...Nice speech."
Shaking his head, Munroe stepped closer to the man and looking him over, drilled a fairly substantial punch into his stomach, "...The difference between what you do, Asher, and what I do… is as vast as you can imagine. I don't enjoy this sort of work. Which means I have no desire whatsoever to drag it out for endless hours. I will give you… three chances to answer the question. You have expended one chance already. This is now your second. Fail to answer… and I'm going to hurt you. I won't relish it. It won't bring me some sick sadistic pleasure. But I will do it, because it needs to be done. Fail to answer a third time… and you become of no use to me. Clear? Good." Looking up at Asher, expectantly, he nodded, as if the man had verbally accepted the terms, "Now. I will ask…"
"Just bring on the pain." Asher interrupted, coolly, "...I won't answer."
With a small sigh, Munroe stepped back, "Helona… You don't need to be here for this."
Helona shrugged again with a soft sigh as she stood up, "Your funeral, David." She took a breath, holding onto the steel in her veins. She'd need it. She didn't plan on going anywhere.
"No, I don't need to be. But I'm staying," she answered. She wanted to be. The information Asher had was invaluable, and she hadn't taken full advantage of when she would've been able to weed it out of him a little easier than now. She intended to make sure she got that information now. This was the guy that took delight in torturing people. He could look a person in the eyes, and not see a human being. He tried to drown a girl. He'd no doubt tortured others. He would tear apart everything she'd come to love and protect if given the chance. So with that in mind, her sympathy for him clicked off like a switch.
"Quick heads up, though, I'm pretty sure he thrives on the attention." She tried to meet Munroe's eyes. "If all else fails, I'm sure we could find something worse to him than just pain," she commented. Ice him out. Take away the control, or the feeling of it, and maybe they'd start making headway. But for now? She needed to know he got what was coming for him. So she stayed precisely where she was.
"You see, Asher. That's why you should never underestimate a person. Helona, here… She's invaluable to me. I would never devalue her importance." Stepping back, he smiled faintly, "Right then. Let's give David here a little time out. Kristoff… lights off when we leave. I'd say what… forty eight hours? That ought to do well. Lona? Shall we?"
Helona couldn't help the quietly pleased feeling that settled in her chest. Munroe hadn't been lying when he said Asher didn't know what he was up against. They didn't have to go the traditional route for information. They'd find another way to get what they needed. She gave Munroe a sly smile, casting one last look towards Asher. "Lead the way," she told him, gesturing to the door. It seemed she'd be leaving after all.
Asher didn't react, but for the rolling tension in his shoulders, and Munroe turned and led Helona towards the staircase. As they were halfway up, Kristoff began to follow and flicked the switch at the bottom, bathing the room below in pitch blackness. Upstairs, the giant of a man gave the pair a look, before shaking his head, "I'll stand guard. You two should get some tea or something."
"Not a bad suggestion…" Munroe agreed, nodding to Helona, "Tea?"
Helona walked up the stairs just in front of Kristoff as the lights clicked off behind her. She missed the look Kristoff sent the both of them entirely, having turned to glance over at Munroe. "I won't say no," she said with a sliver of a smile. It would take a little while for her to rethaw, having slammed down the soldier mask during the conversation with Asher. It would all hit her later, the feelings and thoughts she'd filed away. But for now, she definitely wouldn't say no to tea.
Munroe took note of her disposition, but said nothing as he led her to the doorway that led to the next series of stairs, a hand on the small of her back. Upstairs, he found the key that would allow them through the final door and into the hallway that led down to his office.
Inside, he made a beeline for the keurig and turned it on with a sigh, "Fairly certain he's not gonna talk… Whatever loyalties he has to Kane, they're holding fast. I want you to to go to Nora Kane's place as soon as morning comes. She's in enormous danger…"
Helona was largely silent as they made their way back towards Munroe's office. She idly noted the hand on her back, but she tucked that bit of information away for later, like the rest of the past several minutes with Asher in the basement. As they reached his office, though, she nodded in agreement.
"Whatever he says will either be minor details or unreliable, if it's anything at all," she commented. "If we wanted something substantial… we probably would have to take it to a different level. And that's just what he wants." Her voice had dropped lower at her last words. Them stooping to Asher's level? It would probably be the only thing that could get the job done, and few things Helona could think of would give Asher greater satisfaction. They were stuck. She nodded again, as he advised her to go to Nora Kane's home. "Will do. And she is…"
"I have my doubts even that would do the trick, Helona. That man is designed to torment. It's what he does… all he knows. We won't get anywhere playing in the same field as him. Especially when that's what he wants." A sigh escaped, and Munroe pinched his forehead, where frustration was starting to compile into a headache, "We may be better off wiping him completely…"
Helona couldn't help but agree. They could try to beat Asher at his own game, but he'd probably beat them in experience. Scratch that, he'd almost definitely beat them in experience. She looked over at Munroe, though, surprise writing itself across her face at his suggestion. It wasn't something he tended to suggest lightly. If they couldn't get answers anyway, it might not be all that great a loss. They couldn't just let him go, either. He'd go running back to Kane, and with him having gotten into the Underground…
She wasn't keen on seeing exactly what the pair of them would do to a place like this.
"We could try again, but if it comes down to that…" she started, trailing off. She took a breath. "Are you okay with that, if it's what it comes down to?" Wiping someone's memory the way they would no doubt have to wipe Asher's would be...extensive to say the least. That had its own drawbacks, especially if they planned to release him back into the world above.
"After what he did to Grace? To his daughter… to you? Yeah, Helona. I'm perfectly fine with it." There was a note of coolness in his tone, a coldness that Munroe wasn't entirely accustomed to letting into the light, "Besides… it's my job to protect the people down here, and if the best way to do that is to make sure Asher can't remember our location… I'll sleep just fine tonight. But if you think we ought to try again, we can certainly do that…"
Helona raised her hands in surrender. "Okay. Wasn't questioning you. Just making sure," she said easily. Her head tilted as she lowered her hands, intrigued by the ice in Munroe's tone that she'd so rarely heard before. "I think...that no matter what we do, we're going to end up in the same position that we're in right now. I've got questions for him, but I'm seriously doubting he'd answer, so," she paused, shrugging, "that's ultimately your call."
"You've got blood on your knuckles, by the way," she added, her gaze having flicked towards his hands as he talked.
A brow raised, and he looked down at his hand, chuckling dryly, "So I do. That'll bruise, tomorrow. Been a shockingly long time since I've punched someone. Goes a bit out of your mind, doesn't it? The proper techniques." Grabbing a towel from beside the small sink, he ran water on it and pressed it with a flinch to his knuckles, "...We'll try again. In a day or two, when he's had time to really sit and think…"
"It can, yes," Helona agreed with a small nod. "...First aid kit still in the same spot? You might've split them," she asked, starting to move towards the cabinet that had stored the first aid kit last she checked. "Okay," she continued, glancing up at him as he rinsed his hand off. "I'm sure he'll have plenty of time to stew in his thoughts."
"Less than he deserves." Munroe remarked, pulling the towel away to inspect his hand, "Still in the same spot, yeah. Under the lemon tea." With a smirk, he looked up at her, "Don't tell Nick where that tea is, though."
"Oh, I dunno. I think Asher deserves a lot of things. Like a hammer to the jaw, or a metal bat to the shins," Helona grumbled darkly, her exact choice of words and expression suggesting she might have thought about this a couple of times before. The glower broke as she snorted at his response. She'd strode across the office and opened the cabinet to see that very box of lemon tea. "You're still hiding it from him?" she asked with a grin. She reached into the cabinet to pull out the first aid kit. "How many times has he found it so far, again?"
"The shins? You're getting soft, Lona." Munroe teased faintly. There were alot of things he could envision doing to the creep, but whether he wanted to admit it or not, Asher had been right. They were better than those barbaric acts…
"Twice, but only after he looked everywhere. Pretty sure he's using Logan to sniff it out…" Chuckling, he shook his head, "He's resilient, for sure…"
"Oh, not just the shins, but that's my starting point," Helona answered, her smile growing. She rolled her eyes at the tease. "To be fair, I may or may not have told the man somewhere around the time I first met him that I could shoot his dick off, so.." she trailed off with a shrug, a wicked grin across her face as she glanced back at Munroe. "I think my going soft is debatable." With those words hanging in the air, she pulled the first aid kit from the cabinet. She tread lightly across the room, joining Munroe at his spot in front of the sink.
"You're so mean to him," she chuckled teasingly, shaking her head. A smile toyed on her lips at the idea of her son scouring Munroe's office for a package of tea. "Add in 'determined' and 'stubborn', and you've definitely got him pegged down."
A brow rose at her revelation, and Munroe laughed softly, shaking his head, "And the man doesn't like you? Honestly… that's just a mystery, to me." But with a softer expression, he shook his head, "You were never really soft, though, Helona… and I mean that in a good way. You were always strong as hell, and still are. I dunno how you dealt with that as long as you did, but I truly am glad you're back."
Holding out his hand to her, he glance up at the lemon tea with a chuckle, "Resilient, stubborn, determined… Like son, like mother, I guess."
"Funnily enough, we actually got along decently well when he thought we were on the same side," Helona snorted, shaking her head. "It's a shame that he sold his soul for those reptilian abominations on his feet he calls boots, and is at Kane's beck and call," she remarked as an afterthought. Her demeanor had been slowly thawing the longer she spoke to Munroe alone, a larger smile gracing her lips now.
Her gaze flicked up to meet Munroe's eyes as she pulled a roll of bandaging from the from the kit. "In all fairness, the promise of pasta when I got back may or may not have had something to do with it," she admitted. She gingerly wound the bandage between Munroe's fingers and around his split and bruising knuckles. "Careful now, Rett, or I'll start to think all this flattery means you want something," she warned with a grin.
"He seems the sort to wear something so hideous… I'm sorry I didn't think to look at his feet. Perhaps the secret is in his boots. If we burned them, maybe he'll give us what we're after."
He grinned faintly, but the expression shifted, as Helona brought up his bargain to her he'd made upon her leaving. Eyes shifting causally to watch her work on his hand, he nodded, "Careful, indeed. But a promise is a promise… And seeing as we've got some time on our hands… how does tomorrow evening sound?"
Helona choked on a laugh, shaking her head, "Maybe he would. Sounds like the best plan we've had yet to deal with him. Even if it doesn't work, I hear burning items like that gets rid of malevolent spirits altogether." She snickered to herself as she kept her eyes on her task until she'd finished bandaging Munroe's knuckles.
"Ah, so you do want something," she teased, most of the warmth having returning to her eyes. It would be after she came back tomorrow from Nora Kane's home, if all went well. "That sounds like a plan to me."
"...Malevolent spirits aside… burning those atrocities would be doing mankind a favor. They are, I think, his worst form of torture." Chuckling, he shook his head, before pinching his brow with a free hand, "In all seriousness… We need to hope he breaks. The less information about Kane we have to work off of, the harder this will be."
Looking at her again, his eye softened and he nodded, "What I want, I've already got. You, safely home again, Lona. But I do like showing off and as I've said… my pasta is legendary."
"Please. Spare my eyes from seeing them all over again," Helona chuckled in response. "...I still say we burn the boots for information." She sobered up immediately after, nodding faintly. "We'll get something. Might not be much, with it being Asher, but we'll get something," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. She had her doubts, but for now, she'd try to hold onto that hope for now. One way or another, they'd get something out of him.
Her smile widened at his next words. "Yeah, I'm sure you do, Mr. 'I-don't-like-this-idea-at-all'," she teased. "And we'll see about that pasta, Rett. We'll see."
"We could burn them while he's wearing them…" He suggested, with a small, sly grin, "I mean… he deserves it, far as I'm concerned." He wasn't serious. Not remotely. But there was a small part of him that couldn't quite help but imagine it in his mind with a smile on his face. The man was a calloused, repulsive monster, and Munroe wouldn't have been sorry to see him burn…
Smile shifting, he looked at the wrapping around his hand with a shake of his head, "Oh…. We will see, indeed. You will eat those words."
"Rett," Helona hissed almost scoldingly, if it weren't for the grin that clearly showed her amusement. She bit her lip, shaking her head as she fought a laugh. "That's a darker thought than I expected from you." She chuckled, running a hand over her face.
"We'll see, Rett," she said, shrugging lightly.
Chuckling, Munroe shook his head, "I know, I know. Mostly not serious." Eyes twitching up to her own, he smirked, "Mostly."
Stepping back, he tested the strength of the bandage, giving a firm nod, "Tomorrow night, then…"
"Mostly," she echoed, shaking her head as she chuckled again. She sobered up a little, though the crooked smile didn't fade. "I'll see you then," she confirmed. In the meantime, she'd need to prepare to set out for Nora Kane's home as soon as the sun rose the next morning.
Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
To say that Helona felt odd was an understatement. Shifting a little awkwardly on her feet, she made her way to the apartment door in front of her. She had, in truth, made this decision herself. She'd been the one that had taken the invitation into Rett Munroe's home and thought it would probably be appropriate to dress up just the once. She'd seen him in his suits a good number of times and so often felt just a little underdressed. So what was the harm in wearing nice pants when she went to see him in his own home?
The harm, it turned out, was that as soon as she'd even hinted at going somewhere and dressing up, Grace and Phaedra both had descended on her with make-up and an offer to do her hair. The vultures. They were very quickly becoming some of her favorite vultures, though, so she'd let them have a pass just this once. (Though in reality, she'd be willing to give them far more than just one pass.)
It was because of this she found herself at Munroe's door, wearing her one singular pair of dress pants, lip gloss, and her hair pulled back in an elegant bun she couldn't help but admire just a little. Still, while she didn't feel uncomfortable, she did feel a little strange. It was probably fine, she reminded herself.
She raised a hand and rapped her knuckles on the door of Munroe's home.
The sound of swearing came from beyond the door, and a small clatter followed. After a punctuated moment or two, it opened, and Munroe, still looking behind him, cleared his throat, "Sorry about that… Bread decided to ignite… I have no idea wh---" He turned, and his breath caught as he took in the sight of the woman before him. Paling, then suddenly flushed pink, he stepped back.
"Woah. L-lona. Y...you look… Wow."
Helona smiled, though it was a touch sheepish. "Thank you. It's not too much, is it?" she asked after a beat. She brushed her fingers over the side of her face, as if to move hair out of her face. It was ultimately more a habit than a necessity, due to the fact there was no hair to brush behind her ear. It was an anxious motion she'd easily adopted after years of pulling her hair back in various ways.
Her eyes flicked behind Munroe, her smile sliding from sheepish to amused, before focusing on him again. "Now, what's this I hear about flaming bread?"
"Yes…" He breathed, before shaking his head rapidly, "I mean, no! Not at all." Clearing his throat, he jammed a smile over his mortification, "You look lovely. Please… come in."
Stepping back to allow her inside, he glanced to where he'd dropped the charred carcass of what was once garlic bread, "Flaming bread. It's all the rage… little trendy for my taste though. Luckily I've got backup." Gesturing to the table, a two top set with cloth linens, candlesticks and china, he smiled, "Have a seat. Red or white?"
Helona raised an eyebrow, an amused but slightly concerned smile on her lips. "Thank you," she said again, stepping through the doorway. She leaned over a little, to peer at the blackened husk of bread. "Of course. You're quite the hipster, aren't you?" she teased. "So concerned about what's too trendy…" She seemed to consider this for a moment. "Ah, white, if that's fine. And you're sure you don't want me to help with anything?"
Shaking his head, Munroe laughed, "You're using these words, like I have any idea what horrible names you're calling me." From a rack in the fridge, he plucked out a bottle, and grabbing a bottle opener, he brought both over to the table, "Not much left… Just need to crack the eggs and we're all set."
Popping the cork free, he poured a glass for her, then filled his own, setting the bottle in between, "Two minutes…" Turning back to the kitchen, he grabbed a bowl of eggs and cracking each in turn, separate yolk from white. With the former whisked, salt, and a ladle of pasta water added, he poured it into the sautee pan of pasta, "So how was the reunion with Nick?"
Helona's laugh echoed his as she shook her head. "I must've spent too much time around Phaedra. I'm using all these newfangled words on you, when I know you can't keep up." Raising her hands in surrender as he insisted there wasn't much left to do, she slid into a chair. She turned, arms folding over the back of the chair as she watched him work.
"It went pretty well, I think. Lots of hugs all around, which comes with the territory," she explained, the corner of her lip quirking up into a crooked smile. "I met some of his new friends. Or, well, old friends really. You weren't kidding about Grace being a spitfire."
"She's more like a miniature volcano, that one. Seems to have caught the eye of our charming barkeep. Can't say it's the worst thing for her to have a distraction right now. They're good kids… kind of hoping they decide to stick around. Could be assets to the Underground."
Bringing the pasta to the table, he scooped it onto a plate, then filled another plate with salad. A baguette and butter were central to the setting, "Anyway… no work talk, right?""
"A firecracker in a miniature volcano," Helona continued with a laugh, her tone fond. Grace has already made quite an impression. She then tilted her head, intrigued by this new bit of information. "Has she really?" she asked. "Kaufman would certainly keep her on her toes. And they could definitely be helpful to have around." Her intrigue with the pair of new arrivals didn't stop there, but she planned to hang back and see how things played out first. She'd noticed things, in their interactions with each other and with Nick, but she didn't want to say anything for certain just yet on that front.
"No work talk," she agreed with a nod. She quirked an eyebrow, curious to see if that was his segue into another point of conversation. She'd started to turn around, to sit in the chair how it was originally intended to be sat in, before she spoke again. "Actually, how have you been, since I was gone?"
Chuckling, he took a healthy sip of wine, breaking off a piece of break as he shrugged his shoulders, "It's always easier when you're home, I suppose. Logan's been invaluable, and has already started networking out to some people on the outside regarding this crisis with Kane… but as handy as he is, he doesn't look quite so attractive in a pantsuit and lip gloss…"
A warm feeling bloomed in her chest as she heard the word 'home.' That was the thing, wasn't it? This was home for her now. Not just the place, but the people. Helona had been about to comment, the words on the tip of her tongue before she interrupted herself with a bark of laughter. "The pants are quite nice, aren't they?" she asked, kicking out a leg and rolling her ankle experimentally, as if showing them off. "Though, I have to admit, the lip gloss wasn't actually my idea." She reached for the bread as well, pinching off a bite of her own to eat.
"Quite nice. Not that you look anything less in jeans. Just… well, I suppose the effort is noticed." He chuckled, taking another sip, "And you may thank whoever's idea it was, for me.." A brow quirked, and he chuckled, before gesturing to the plates, "Dig in."
"I appreciate that it's been noticed," Helona answered with a small nod before taking a sip of her wine as well. "Oh, so you do like it?" she teased, something wicked playing behind her eyes, her glass hovering close to her lips still. "I think...that you ought to thank Grace and Phaedra yourself. As soon as I even mentioned spending the evening with you and wearing my nice pants, they swooped down on me, the absolute vultures." Her tone, once again, was fond and lacked any bite despite her words. "They were determined to put something sparkly on me, too." She placed her glass down, though the mischief still glinted in her eyes as she continued. "At one point, they pulled out eyeshadow that was more glitter than shadow, and I had to put my foot down before I found glitter in my everything for years to come."
"Hey," she protested, raising a finger. "I'm working my way around to the main event." The same finger pointed at the plate full of pasta. "I have to hype myself up, to see if the famed Carbonara lives up to its name." So, with that in mind, she took a bite of the salad first.
Laughing, Munroe shook his head, "My God. You're kidding? I'm glad you showed the restraint. I would've felt like an old man had you shown up here like that…" Looking up from his plate, he smiled, "I imagine they quite enjoyed the opportunity… and they've done lovely work for vultures." Starting on his own salad, he grinned, "You've no idea what you've been missing out on, my dear."
"No. God, I wish I was. Having to explain why I didn't want to turn my eyeballs into disco balls was an interesting experience," she chuckled. After taking another bite, she bit her lip. "You mean you don't already feel like an old man? I have to say, I'm impressed. Here for the dawn of the dinosaur, and you still feel young…" With that teasing smile still on her face, she nodded. "They definitely did. Both enjoy the opportunity and do good work." It was a good thing, too, that they'd offered. She couldn't actually remember the last time she'd dressed up like this. Was it before Nick had been born…?
"I look forward to finding out," Helona answered with a wink, "what I've apparently gone my whole life without."
"Well, you know they say. Age is but a number. And the dinosaurs helped pick out my bits of glitter." He teased right back, with a shake of his head, "Indeed. Very good work." He added, with a note of admiration.
A grin followed, and he took a sip of wine, "You've well and truly missed out. But no more, I should think…"
"Maybe, but it's still a really big number…" she murmured with a grin, poking another bite of her salad into her mouth. She snorted in the process, though, head turning as she fought back an even larger grin at the comment about glitter. "Fair enough," she admitted in surrender, still chuckling under her breath. She glanced up with a raised eyebrow as he complimented her appearance once again.
"We'll see," she answered in a sing-song voice.
Pushing his salad plate aside, he waited patiently… eagerly for her to finish as well, as he picked at his chunk of bread. He was well aware that Helona and Nick both were not privy to the best of meals, and he also knew how damn good his pasta was.
"Oh, we will see, indeed. And then you'll be sorry you called me old, madam."
"See, you almost had me until 'madam'," Helona teased with a playful eye roll. "I will never be sorry about calling you old, Rett. Someone's got to tell you the truth, and I'm sure you know you can count on me to do that." She was close to finishing the salad, but if she was purposely eating it and her bread a little slow…. Well, he had it coming, for being so cocky.
"And yet, Lona, I swear you're the one who keeps me young." He added with a small laugh. Resting his chin in his hands, he watched her with a small smile, shaking his head. The woman was mischief and a half… Sometimes it was hard to imagine she could be so serious.
"Now you're just trying to make me blush," she accused with her lips pursed, pointing her fork at him. She continued to eat, shaking her head. Eventually she ran out of food to stall with and extend her messing with Munroe. "...You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Grinning slyly, he shrugged, "Not often I get the opportunity. I'm milking it for what it's worth." He savored the color the flooded her cheeks, his smile warming as she protested his enjoyment, "Every moment, darling. Now please…" Gesturing to the plate, he laughed, "Would you put me out of my misery?"
"I dunno… I think I'm going to make you wait a little bit longer…" she teased, taking a sip from her glass as she eyed him from just over the rim. Soon enough, though, she set down her glass and raised her hands in surrender. She twirled her fork on the plate, collecting a sufficient bite of pasta. With one last glance up at Munroe, she took the bite.
It was like heaven in her mouth. Her eyes closed, a small but pleased noise sounding from her throat. She placed a hand over her mouth, needing a moment to process. "Oh my God," she breathed. She sat there a little while longer, as if in disbelief, eventually swearing under her breath. "I can't even mess with you and say 'it's alright.' Rett, oh my God."
For a man in his fifties, Munroe gleamed like a small boy in the toy store as her words expelled with untapped graciousness. He was pleased, to say the least, that her reaction was exactly what he'd hoped for, "I'm glad you enjoy it… It's an old family recipe. And thank you… For appeasing my ego!"
"And to think...I thought you were being cocky..." Helona shook her head, still looking a little like her brain was trying to catch up to what she'd just tasted. It couldn't be legal. It had to be the pasta of the gods. "If eating what you cook is what appeases your ego, I'll be happy to do it anytime," she breathed, huffing a small laugh. "Out of curiosity," she asked, twirling her fork into the pile of pasta once again, "how much of a nuisance would I make of myself if I just came over here to eat every night?"
Laughing again, Munroe shrugged, "My mother always told me if I had to be arrogant about anything, make sure it was a truth… otherwise I'd wind up looking pretty damn foolish." As he tucked into his own meal, a brow raised at her continued complement, "Every night? I'd say as long as you help me hijack a pasta truck, and don't mind nightly carb hangovers, you wouldn't be a nuisance in the slightest. Truth is, Lona… I do genuinely enjoy your company."
"Sounds like a wise woman," Helona admitted with a smile. Shrugging, she laughed, "If that's the cross I have to bear, so be it, Rett. Are you telling me this is the only thing you can cook, though?" She'd continued eating, savoring each bite, until his words hit her fully. She ducked her head a little, hand once again reaching up to brush away hair that wasn't in her face behind her ear. "Now you're really saying that to get me to blush."
"Oh, not in the least… but seeing that look on your face when you tried it… hard not to wanna keep making it." He said with a note of teasing. As she reached up to brush away a non-existent strand, his expression softened and he shook his head, "Not in the least, Lona. I mean every word."
"But imagine this. You'd get to see it over and over again when you make me try something new," Helona offered. "Though I can't say I'm opposed to Carbonara all the time…" She resisted the urge to check her hearing aids. She was well aware they were on the right setting, but it still made her want to check that she was hearing them right. She worked her jaw, trying to think of what to say, of how to respond. She fidgeted with the largely plain silver ring on her finger, on the middle finger of her right hand. The ring she'd wanted to wear one last time before she made the decision to get rid of it.
"I like the fact that we decided to have no work conversation, and have only managed to talk about our new arrivals, the fact I narrowly avoided a glittery death, and the food," she teased, changing the topic, though the small fond smile on her face showed well enough that she'd heard what Munroe said and appreciated it.
"This is true…" He admitted, tapping his jaw in thought, "A very good point." And he had quite the repertoire of recipes, too.
As she continued, he noticed her fiddling with the ring, but said nothing regarding it, meeting her gaze, instead, "It's uh… been a good while, to be honest, since I've talked about anything besides work. What sort of things do normal people talk about?"
She pursed her lips at the question, head tilting and hands stilling. "I'm a terrible person to ask that," she admitted with a laugh. "You know more about what's been going on in Nick's life lately than I do….so that's out," she added with a snort, "and we're in the same social circle, too."
With a dry chuckle, Munroe shook his head, "Wow. This is definitely one of those things that should not be so difficult." Pinching his chin between his fingers, he thought for a moment, "Alright… tell me about your life before the Underground. Not what's in your file… but you, Lona. Who you were."
"Oh, it definitely is," Helona laughed in return. She leaned back, considering this. "Which part of it? There's a lot of ground to cover," she asked, shaking her head. She tapped her fingers on the edge of the table. "I was the oldest child of two. I had a younger brother named Alon, and I don't think the two of us could have been any more different. He...was wild, and reckless, and a troublemaker with a blatant disregard for the rules. I was uptight and straight-laced. It didn't make me too many friends, as I'm sure you can imagine," she added with another small laugh, shrugging. "I...gee, I don't talk about myself much. I don't know how." Another short huff of a laugh left her mouth. "I went into the military to be an engineer. I don't think that bit ever gets mentioned in my file. Went to be an engineer, and stayed to be a sniper."
Chuckling, he nodded, "Though not as much ground as me, I suppose." Sitting back as she spoke, he listened intently, "I did not know that. A brother? I was an only child, myself. My poor mother couldn't handle much more after me, I suppose. Probably for the best." With a smile, he shook his head, "And I did not know that, either. Should probably make sure you don't take too good a look at how this place is build… Pretty sure we've missed a few codes. How did you end up as a sniper?"
"You said it, not me," Helona laughed, raising her hands. She raised an eyebrow, grinning, "Are you telling me you were a problem child, Rett?" She shook her head, clicking her tongue. "For shame, Rett. Honestly, I would only halfway know what I'm looking at. Mechanical engineering tends to be a little different from structural stuff, though now I have to say I'm a little concerned about if this place is going to come down on our heads."
She leaned forward, arms folding on the table in front of her. "That...was more by accident than anything else. My grandfather liked to hunt. My parents didn't have any interest in it, and neither did Alon, much to my grandfather's dismay. I think I surprised him, actually, when I first asked if I could come with him. He taught me how to shoot. I was all of maybe 10 years old, had my hair in pigtails, and I could shoot soda cans from a distance that made a shooting range look like child's play," she chuckled, biting her lip. "It was an accident because during a practice drill, someone was supposed to take a shot and couldn't. I took it instead. My commanding officer said I'd either have to enroll myself in sniper school or he'd have to resign from having no faith in the world." She shrugged faintly, as if to say 'what could I do?'
"I was… a… curious child." He said, with a sly grin, "And that curiosity wasn't entirely accustomed to listening to the word 'no'."
Crossing his arms, he smiled as she shared the history of her sniper career, and a gentle smile formed, as he nodded, "Somehow, Lona, none of that surprises me in the slightest. That you were the one shooting cans at ten or that you accidentally became a sniper. Fantastic. You miss it? The military?"
"Oh, Rett. You can't leave it at that. Now you have to tell me exactly what your… curious nature got you into," Helona laughed, looking thoroughly intrigued.
"I've probably got a picture somewhere, of me and Pop-Pop," she added. She could almost picture it in her head. Her grandfather, in all his strong and silent glory, and her grinning like she was having the time of her life. She pursed her lips. "...I used to. It was what made me feel like I had a purpose for a while. Like I had a direction in life. Then, well…" she trailed off, her fingertips running over her ear and sliding on the surface of her hearing aid. "Things changed. I used to miss it, and sometimes I miss certain aspects of it. The thing is… the government as it is has a history of screwing over people that need help the most. I can't be on the side that does that. Besides, I get plenty of thrills these days anyway." She sent him a wicked, slightly crooked grin.
"Worst was probably when I climbed into the snake pen at the zoo. My mom just about murdered me, which was something, considering one of those suckers bit me…"
With another nod, he listened, "I'm glad you were able to find purpose again. At least I think that's what you were insinuating there. Hope I didn't just jump into another snake pen…"
Helona choked, wheezing out a startled laugh, "Rett! Oh my God. Why did you crawl into the snake pen in the first place?" She buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking as imagined a tiny Munroe slipping into a pen at the zoo.
"No snakes here, promise," she chuckled, raising her hands innocently. "Though I imagine I partially have you to thank for finding my purpose again. What about you? Who were you before all of this?" She gestured vaguely to the room around them before resting her chin on her hands.
Laughing, he shook his head, "Honestly? I can't even remember. Think it had something to do with really wanting a pet… I'm pretty sure that was the point my parents decided one was enough. I'm not entirely sure that my mom wanted the one for at least the entire drive to the hospital."
As she gestured to him, and turned the question around, the lighthearted expression remained but there was a flicker of something in his gaze, something from another time, and scratching the back of his neck, he shrugged, "I wasn't a sniper. Never had much luck with aim, to be frank. I was a clerk. It's basically a boring way to say I sat at a desk and dealt with other people's money when they couldn't figure it out themselves. Wasn't an ideal job, but I handled it alright…"
"Sounds about right. God, and I thought my brother and I were a hassle. NERF darts and plastic wrap and Alon somehow climbing up the corners of walls like a damn spider and waiting to scare me at godawful hours of the night," she laughed, shaking her head as Munroe continued.
Her brow furrowed slightly as she noticed the slight change, gone just as soon as it came. She didn't comment, but quietly filed it away for later. Another day… She gave him a low whistle as a response. "I think we both know how I feel about desk duty," she started, "so the fact that was your job just reaffirms my belief that you have all the patience of a saint. What did you want to be, when you were growing up? Since you don't seem too enthused about having been a clerk."
"Ah, yeah. I eventually grew out of it. Otherwise, I think my mom might have given me up for adoption." They were fond memories, however, and he knew despite it all, his parents appreciated what they'd had…
"Believe it or not, I wanted to be a mechanic. My dad was one… had his own garage. I remember watching his as a kid, and I was always enthralled by how he put everything together. It was like art, you know? In a weird way. But when I got old enough to make the decision things had changed, and I had to take what I could get."
Helona chuckled, "I can imagine. There were days my mom would just sigh when it came to the things we got into. And we didn't make habits of crawling into snake pens." Her smile was teasing, even as she listened.
"Like art…" she breathed, more to herself than it was to Rett. She shook her head. "No, it's not weird. I get it. It's funny, really. If we'd ended up going down the paths we'd originally intended, we would've been in different parts of the same field." Her face fell just a little. "...The timing's about right on that, isn't it?" When things had begun to change, when people started viewing her brother as a threat.
"World got a whole hell of a lot meaner than it should've, really fast, Lona." He shook his head and his arms uncrossed, one raking back his hair, "Probably would still be there, though… working that ridiculous job, if things hadn't changed. I'm not exactly grateful for the outcome, but… well, it has its upside, I suppose. In some ways. I just wish the path to get here had been different…"
"Yeah. Yeah, it did," Helona agreed, voice barely more than a whisper. Nearly 30 years, since she'd heard from her brother. She still didn't know if he was dead or alive or somewhere in between. "I don't know it firsthand, but… my brother was a mutant. At one point, it seemed like things weren't looking good. Then the next… the world was at its worst."
"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here, where you are now. I'm sorry, though, for whatever it took for you to get here," she added, treading carefully. He didn't seem to want to talk about it, and if he really didn't, she wasn't going to pry.
Blinking, he looked up at her, a small frown on his lips, "...Was?" It wasn't his place to assume, but then… it also wasn't exactly rare to hear that a mutant had been struck down. The way things had gone… the ugliness that people had shown. He could feel the tension rolling across his shoulders, along his jaw and he tried to soften it with a sip of wine.
"...I'm glad I'm here too, Lona… but I'd give anything not to be, even if that's… difficult to say."
"I...I don't know if Alon is alive, honestly. Haven't heard from him in since before Nick was born. Things seemed to keep getting worse and worse, and then he was gone," Helona explained, her face having fallen further. "I want to hope he's out there, maybe in the Canadian wilderness somewhere, safe and sound. The thing is… I say 'was' because I've already grieved. I'd be happy to know he was okay if he popped up again, but for so long, I didn't know and had to live with that." She snorted, almost bitterly. "The last time I heard from him, I was still engaged," she murmured, fidgeting and twisting with the silver ring on her middle finger again. "How funny is that?"
She sent a sympathetic smile his way. "It's alright. I get it. The path here couldn't have been an easy one," she said softly. "The world made a mistake when it decided that some people were made for suffering, and it's always been those people that face the consequences of that. I'm not faulting you for wishing things were different."
"I'm sorry, Lona. For what it's worth, I hope he is out there, and well. And I hope that you see him again. I know what it is to make peace with loss, but what I wouldn't give for the opportunity to change that closure into something better." He gave a small nod, and while he smiled, the normal mirth was absent from his expression. A brow quirked a moment later, and he shifted forward, slightly, "I didn't know you were married…? Nick never mentioned…"
"...Thank you, Rett. I'm sorry, too, for whatever changed things for you. I know it doesn't make it better, doesn't heal what you've lost, but I am," Helona said softly. She touched on what she thought was the source of that flicker in his gaze, that tightening of his shoulders and why he spoke so familiarly of loss. And then she let it go. She wouldn't pry. Not today. When he wanted her to know, he'd tell her. That she was sure about.
She shook her head, "Oh, I wasn't. Never reached that point." Her eyes were fixed pointedly on the silver ring, watching it turn as she twisted it. "Nick wouldn't have mentioned it, either. He never met his father. I made sure that he would never come near Nick. Not hard to do, when you don't tell him he had a son to begin with." Her eyes flicked up to meet Munroe's gaze, the look behind them far colder, far crueler, and far more vengeful.
Blinking faintly, Munroe managed a small smile, though not one that held immediately warmth, "...And I thought I felt strongly about my ex." He mused, softly, not mockingly, but with an odd note of understanding, "Whatever happened, Lona… It was his loss. Anyone foolish enough to let you get get away doesn't deserve you, as far as I'm concerned."
Helona was silent for a long while, quietly twisting her ring. "You want to know something horrible?" she asked softly. "When I first met Kane, I had this horrible feeling. This horrid, gut-wrenching feeling of familiarity. It took me a week, to place why exactly I had it. Then it came to me. My ex-fiance, Adrien." She wiggled her fingers, smile cold and bitter. "It wasn't the same kind of control. Adrien… it wasn't the same sort of obsession, but it was control all the same. Control of me, control of my life and how I lived it. It's funny, really. I thought he was a Prince Charming, and maybe he was, but it wasn't a fairy tale."
"Because that's how they get you. They're charming, and they're incredible, and you don't realize until long after the fact how he's isolated you," she continued, gently sliding the ring off her finger. "How they get you… is they make you love them. And I did. I did love him, because for a long time, he was everything. He was there for me at my absolute worst, because trust me, when I first dealt with the aftermath of this, it wasn't pretty." She ran her fingers over her hearing aids again to make a point. "I was bitter, and angry, and I hobbled around like an old woman. I wanted to fight everything and everyone."
She took a deep breath, even as her face remained stony with something dark and wrathful behind her eyes. "I broke it off with him not just because of that need for control, but because he told me that if he were given the chance, he would've served men like Kane in a heartbeat, because their beliefs were the same." Her gaze locked with Munroe's again, turning the ring in her fingers. "He told me to keep the ring, when I broke it off. Told me I'd be back, when I realized I'd made a mistake. When I'd come to my senses. And I kept it, but as a reminder that no matter what, I won't backtrack. I already had come to my senses, and I plan to keep it that way."
Setting down his glass, Rett rose to his feet, and carefully pulled his chair to the side of the table before settling into it again, near enough to count the freckles on Helona's nose. Leaning slightly forward, he tapped his chin, before reaching out, his hand covering the one that held the ring, eyes meeting hers with a firmness generally reserved for his more serious conversations, "...When the people who love us let us down, it's easy to blame ourselves and try to find fault in our own actions. The fact that you aren't doing that is one of the many reasons I admire you so much, Helona." Breathing in, his turned his eyes to his hand, curled over hers, shaking his head,
"...I was married. For ten years. We were young when we decided to take the step, and I guess we were a little foolish, too. We had a child… Melina. My wife and I both carried the gene, so we were relatively sure we knew what we were getting. Only it wasn't exactly what we expected. Melina was different, physically. She couldn't blend in as well… Her powers, they… fluctuated, and it was hard. She… she couldn't handle it. And so she left. I never blamed her. But I never blamed myself or my daughter, either. The fault, I suppose lay in man's inability to understand that what is different isn't wrong… it's just different. And I learned that the hard way when I watched Melina…" Swallowing, his jaw tightened, "When I watched them beat her to death in front of me. That is why this exists, Lona. The Underground. For her. Because I won't blame myself for that, either… but I sure as hell will do everything in my power to ensure no one has to endure what I did… No one."
Helona watched as he moved closer, eyes tracking his movements until he leaned in close with his hand clutching hers. Heat threatened to crawl up the back of her neck, but she didn't pull away, didn't look away, as he fixed a firm look onto her. She listened intently, her eyes searching his, her heart sinking with every word. The back of her eyes stung as his words sunk in. They beat her to death in front of him. She couldn't imagine, couldn't fathom living through that and coming out the other side. There was only one instance even comparable, and it would forever haunt her. The day RIEF had raided the apartment and all she'd heard was Nick's scream, the scream she'd helped him hone into a weapon. Then he was gone for years, but even then, she'd gotten him back. She hadn't been forced to watch. As terrible as seeing that pool of blood around Simon had been, praying Nick's hadn't been part of it, she couldn't imagine being forced to watch.
"People fear what they don't understand, and fear and desperation make people do horrible, terrible things," she said, turning her hand under his to grasp it. She threaded her fingers through his, her sign of reassurance as the ring slipped from her fingers to land on the table underneath. It was a phrase she had told Nick a hundred times. She'd made sure he learned that the fearful and the desperate were the people to be wary of. "And you? You are an incredible man, Everett, to have faced that fear from others head on and come out the other side. To have gone through that pain, and not only dealt with it, but to have made it into something as incredible as the Underground for others' sake. And that? That's what I admire about you."
Her fingers wove through his own, and his grasp tightened just slightly, as his gaze shuffled back to her, and shaking his head, he gave a small, dry chuckle, "...That… and my incredible cooking skills, right?" Meeting her eyes again, he breathed in, "I've never told anyone what happened. And believe, people have asked. It's not that… that I can't talk about it, but people look at you differently when you've been through that sort of loss, and I… I would prefer not to become a victim. Melina's here…" With his free hand, he tapped his heart, "And she always will be. And this? This was for her, and that's as good a memorial as I could give."
Rising, without releasing her hand, he smiled with a wash of warmth, "...Come with me. I want to show you something…"
Helona snorted, covering her mouth as a laugh slipped through. "Those are definitely part of what I admire, yes," she confirmed. She sobered up enough to nod as he continue. "I get that," she said softly. He didn't want to be a victim, especially not when the focus should be on what he'd made from his loss.
She raised an eyebrow as he rose to his feet, and after a moment, she followed his lead. "...This isn't something I should've drunk more wine for, is it?" she teased gently.
"Ha!" With a genuine burst of laughter, he shook his head, "No… definitely safe, there. I'll pour you another glass as a forewarning to anything else." With a teasing wink of his own, he let her from the table and into the sitting area. Here, he pulled a small book from beneath the coffee table, handing it over to her. Inside the book were photographs… A young girl, sometimes a toddler, sometimes a little older… never, it seemed, older than fifteen or so. She seemed ordinary enough, but for the deep purple hue and odd texture of her skin, and eyes, bright yellow orbs, "Melina…"
Helona's smile warmed as she heard him laugh again, a sound that had faded away as the conversation grew more serious. Carefully, she took the book in hand, flipping slowly through the pages. Now and again, she slid her fingertips over the photographs, often the ones where the little girl looked happiest. "You know...I might be a little biased, with purple being a favorite color of mine," she started off, gesturing to her dark violet top with a faint smile, "but I think she's gorgeous."
"Hm. It was her favorite color, too." Looking her over, he sighed softly, "She would have liked you, Lona. I'm sorry you never got a chance to meet her." Pausing, he reached to reclaim the book, setting it down before returning his attention to Helona, "You truly do look lovely tonight… but you should know… I'm a bit biased, myself."
"And she had excellent taste," Helona added with a wink. She gingerly held the book a moment longer, before letting him reclaim it. "I might not have met her in person," she said, "but like you said, she's always with you." She placed two fingers on Munroe's chest, just over his heart. She pulled her hand away as she tilted her head, a brow raising in intrigue and confusion. "And how's that?"
Munroe's expression warmed, and his hand caught hers before she could pull away entirely, "For a sharpshooter, my dear… you're a bit blind."
Helona huffed a laugh, "I'd say something about how that sense is going too, but I quite like my sight, thank you. Let me guess...you're biased...because you like the pants, too." She bit her lip, fighting back a grin.
With an amused smile, he shook his head, "It's the lip gloss, actually." Casually, his free hand rose, to tuck a fallen lock of hair behind her ear, "I was always partial to the sense of touch…"
Helona threw her head back with a laugh, the sound clear as a bell after his comment had caught her by surprise. "I guess I really am going to have to thank them, then, aren't I?" she asked. Her breath caught as he reached up to brush the hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. Heat crept into her face, no doubt tinting it pink, even as she grinned at him. "Of course you are," she snorted, shaking her head at him.
"You be sure to thank them for me, too…" Letting his finger linger where they'd paused, his gaze softened, as he shook his head, "Though I'm a bit on the picky side, see. It's about texture… and I've my favorites."
"Will do," she assured him, rolling her eyes playfully. "Do you now? And what are those favorites?" she asked, gaze flicking briefly from his face towards his hand, then back to his face again.
Chuckling, Munroe let his hand fall back to his side, the other brushing back his own hair, "Completely forgot… there's dessert. Would you care for another glass of wine?" He asked, as he casually started back towards to the kitchen.
Helona blinked, one eyebrow raising again as he started to pull away. She sighed, sounding a tiny bit exasperated. Signing as she turned to follow, hands calling him an asshole, she answered, "Sure, I won't say no. But how do you actually forget there's desert, Rett?"
"It's hardly my fault I was a bit distracted…" Rifling through the fridge, he came away with what appeared to be a cheesecake, topped with fresh fruit, "Had to send Lo out for this...It's from Junior's, topside." Setting it on the counter, he looked to her again, shaking his head, "And the names you call me when you think I can't see…"
"And it's cheesecake, too. How do you forget cheesecake?" she continued, looking at him like he'd grown two more heads. "...You know, coming over here to eat every night might be a terrible idea, because I'd end up spoiled. I'll never be able to eat normal food again." Her brow raised, as he told her where it was from. "...You didn't have to do that."
She'd followed him back into the kitchen, stopping at his side and looking up at him. "Oh, I can call you those things to your face, too," she assured, hands once again rolling out the word 'asshole.' She stuck out her tongue out at him, before shaking her head.
"Alright, then I was very distracted. At least I remembered it, hm?" With a grin, he turned to carved two slices from the cake, setting them on the counter, "I'm hardly going to impress you with homemade dessert, Lona. My mastery in the kitchen begins and ends with cooking. Baking was never a strong suit."
Canting his gaze over to her as she signed again, he laughed, and his own fingers worked back the words, 'When did you get so mature?'...
"You're going to have to stop getting distracted by my disco lips, Rett. I know they're dazzling, and maybe a little bit blinding, but there's cake on the line here," Helona laughed. She kept her hands to herself as she waited for him to cut the cake, holds folded close to her chest as she watched eagerly. "Fair enough. I think my baking ability begins and ends with cookies," she chuckled, "And my cooking ability is...alright. I think I'm better at growing food than cooking it."
'I was born this way,' she teased. 'You know, I think I recall another conversation where you questioned my maturity.'
"If you want me to stop getting distracted, Lona, you're going to need to stop talking about your lips…" He said, plainly enough, but with a small edge of teasing, "And how am I just now learning you bake cookies? What travesty is this that you'd keep this from your great leader?"
"You're the one that keeps looking, Rett. See something you like?," she answered, licking her lips soon after. It was part a tease, part because there was some truly delicious looking cheesecake in front of her. "It's probably because I knew I'd get this reaction," she laughed, pointing at him. "Also not my fault if Nick has never mentioned it."
"I told you, Lona. You're the blind one. Not me…" He smirked, as he plucked up the plates to bring them to the table, before refilling each wine glass, "And that's a terrible excuse. You've been here longer than Nick. I should have fresh cookies in my office by habit…"
"That's not an answer, but okay," she snorted, rolling her eyes. She followed his lead back to the table, shaking her head. "Absolutely not. You have to work for cookies with me," she teased. "But I will cut you a deal. I'll make you a batch if the next time we do this doesn't have to be after a brush with death."
"I think that's an acceptable deal…" Looking at her, a brow quirked and the corner of his lip twitched up in a smooth smile, "What do you want the answer to be, Lona? Because I'm not so sure I'm the one being vague, right now."
"Personally, I think there are slightly more interesting things about me than the fact I can bake cookies," Helona teased with a wink. She fell silent at the question, working her jaw as she considered it. She honestly wasn't sure what she wanted the answer to be. There was a part of her that wanted him to say 'yes'. She was pretty sure it was the same part that had noticed things here and there, those very same things that she'd ultimately brushed off. "We're not turning this back onto me," she said, raising a finger. She raised her hands in surrender, though. If she couldn't answer the question, how could she expect him to?
Conceding defeat, Munroe laughed softly, giving a shake of his head, "Fair enough. You did ask before me…" Concentrating his attention on her for a moment, he shrugged, "Fact is, everything about you is interesting. It always has been, to me. You are… a magnificent woman, Lona. In many ways. And to answer plainly, yes… I do."
Helona had been in the middle of sticking her fork into her cake, prepared to take a bite, when her attention shifted back to him once again. She blinked at him, before pointing the fork in his direction. "That's not fair," she protested. "I'm about to stick a giant bite of cheesecake in my mouth and you… you are being a sap and telling me everything about me is interesting." She took a deep breath, ignoring the warm feeling that had returned and begun to settle in her chest.
"Come on. Tell me something about you that people don't know. Other than Melina."
With a small smirk, Munroe sank into his chair and pulled his own plate towards him, "Very well… Let's see. Ah… alright. Until the age of eleven, I struggled with dyslexia. Had to take a special course to overcome it. And being schooled at home you can imagine what a difficulty that was on my parents."
Sinking into her chair as well, she took a the bite of her cheesecake. Her brows rose in surprise. "Yeah, I can imagine," she admitted, shaking her head. "I… I know it's lifelong, but does it ever get any easier, dealing with it?"
"So long as you keep up on reading and writing… Double check. Sometimes if I'm in a rush I'll forget and you can imagine the amusing things I've sent Kris and Logan out for. But I've been at it for roughly forty years, so I've adapted. Gives me a charming handicap, I suppose."
Helona chuckled softly, shaking her head. "I can definitely imagine," she admitted with a smile. "I bet those are fun to explain when you get weird looks." She poked another bite into her mouth, savoring it. "I'm learning all kinds of things about you today. Though, between us, you're plenty charming even without my knowing about your handicap."
"Between us? Well that's hardly fair." Munroe mused with a grin, "You're supposed to tell everyone you know how charming I am, so my ego grows exponentially… And I'm able to take over the know world from the sheer massive size."
Helona laughed, "That's too much ego and too much power for one man, Rett. We have to try to keep things a least sort of fair, you know. It's why I have to take you down a peg or two every now and then. Keep you humble and all." She threw him a wink, an amused smirk on her face. "Besides, you don't need me as your advocate. You do plenty well on your own."
Laughing again, Munroe nodded, "I suppose that's true. Besides… I wouldn't want to rule the world. It's too big, with too many people. Can you imagine the workload?" Shaking his head, he sank back in his seat, taking a sip of wine, "But whether or not I do well on my own, you are a hell of an advocate, Lona."
"The paperwork…" Helona groaned in a near murmur, distaste clear on her face and a shudder running down her back. She smirked, fingers curling around her glass, just above the stem. "I do my best," she said lightly, shrugging.
"I know you do…" He responded, and his expression softened sightly, "and I'm lucky to have you around, Lona. I can't speak ill of anyone I work with down here, but you have been essential to me, and I hope you know that. As a… a coworker and a friend. All you have to do now is stop volunteering yourself for missions where you end up shot…"
"Thank you. It means a lot, to hear you say that," Helona said, a small but warm smile on her lips. She laughed, shaking her head before taking a sip from her wine glass. "I can't make any promises, Rett," she joked before taking a moment to clear her throat. "Actually...I know we said no work conversation, but...what about Nora Kane?" She had to try, to contact her and tell her that her daughter was safe. She could only imagine the picture that had been painted of her and the situation with Phaedra. Even if it weren't out of love for mutant kind, surely she'd be willing to listen because her daughter was involved.
The only problem with that, was that when she'd arrived at Nora Kane's house that morning, there had been nothing. No sign of her, no sign of life at all. As if she had vanished without a trace. Or, with only a slight hint to where she'd be now. There were holes in her closet, hangers left bare. Essentials and valuables were nowhere to be found in Nora Kane's house. It looked, and Helona truly hoped it was the case, that Nora had run before her ex-husband had ever gotten the chance to lay a hand on her. She'd told Rett as much on her return, but still. There was an unease about the woman's disappearance that she just couldn't shake, if only because there was so little she knew.
Frowning softly, Rett's fingertips perched beneath his chin as he gave a nod, "I've been thinking on that, as well. I can't imagine she would be comfortable leaving her daughter alone in the world… considering all that happened, but we should be prepared for… some surprising reactions to everything going on. People are rather disappointing, I find… when you expect too much out of them. Most are, anyway. No traces… no signs of struggle? It's a very good bet she's on the run."
Helona nodded in response. Her features took on a more solemn expression. "Believe me, I know. After what happened with Kane, I know," she said, voice growing quieter. She touched her own shoulder, though it was largely healed up now. Regardless, she'd been reminded why she'd been so protective of Nick for so long. She'd had to look out for him and teach him to look out for himself, because she couldn't expect anyone else to do so. Even if Kane's ex-wife seemed reasonable from what she'd heard, she didn't plan to get her hopes up, for either finding her or reasoning with her. "And it's likely."
"We can't save everyone…" He said, with a small sigh, "As much as I'd like to… I'm not sure it's even possible to pull some people from their own prejudice and ignorance. Hopefully Phaedra's mother won't be one of those unfortunate few." Taking another sip of wine, he smiled faintly, "Maybe she's just laying low… till things blow over."
"Unfortunately," Helona agreed with her own sigh. "With any luck, she won't be." Her mouth quirked up into a smirk at his request. "I'm hoping that's what it is. Hoping she's found somewhere to hide where even Kane won't find her," she agreed, shaking her head. "Besides, if I went after her and found her with a gun, I probably would have to call it quits right then and there," she added, chuckling softly. Despite the teasing, though, she couldn't help but remember the moment she was sure she was a dead woman. It wasn't going to leave her any time soon.
Smiling dryly, he took another sip from his glass, "Probably not the worst idea. People taking shots at you… it's something of a personal problem for me, you know?"
She laughed again, grinning back at him. "I'll do my best," she assured him. She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, is it really? How personal of a problem is it, Rett?" she asked, "Because I'm starting to get the impression you like me."
Looking up from his glass, he smirked faintly, "Oh… You're starting to get that impression, are you? And what's given you that idea, Lona?"
"You tell me that people shooting at me is a personal problem for you. You bribe me into staying safe by stuffing me with delicious food. You tell me I'm invaluable," Helona started before shrugging. "But I don't know. Just a hunch, I guess."
"Well, very astute observations. Though I have mentioned that small issue with your eyesight." He continued, with a teasing lilt to his tone, "You're very dear to me, Helona. I don't mind saying…"
"My eyesight is working just fine, Rett. I think you're just projecting. I know those eyes of yours are ancient, but not everyone else's are," Helona snorted, rolling her eyes. She flicked her hand out from under her chin, signing a phrase similar to 'screw you', though the smile more than made it clear she was joking. "And you're dear to me as well."
Laughing at her words, and the gesture, he nodded, "Clearly, I've underestimated you, my darling. You are superior in so very many ways." With a grin, he finished off his glass, "Won't make that mistake again…"
"So long as you're aware," Helona teased, "I think you can be forgiven." She smiled over the rim over her glass as she took another drink, her cheesecake having long been finished and every bite savored.
"You think? Goodness…" With a smirk, he shook his head, "You're a hard woman to please. Sometimes I'm not entirely sure what I've gotten into, with you."
"You can always use a little mystery," she answered, her crooked smile making her look very pleased with herself. "Where's the fun in it if you aren't wondering exactly what you've gotten yourself into? Snake pens being the exception. Stay out of those, Rett, or I'm going to have a personal problem with a python."
Laughing again, he shrugged, "I lived out my wild snake-pen days, Lona. No worries. I don't intend to find myself in any of those anytime soon. Though I'm pretty sure you could probably take a python…"
"Thank God," Helona breathed in relief, shaking her head. "I mean, I won't say I can't. I'm just not particularly fond of the idea of finding out," she added with a chuckle. She traced the rim of her glass, in thought, before changing the subject. "So….you're not allergic to anything, right? Like, oh, I don't know, cinnamon?"
A brow raised, and Munroe chuckled, running his hand through his hair, "Not that I'm aware of, no. Why, Lona? You planning to poison me so you can usurp my throne? I thought we'd decided taking over the world was far too labor intensive."
"Darn, foiled again," Helona pouted, a fake glower on her face. "Oh, the world is definitely too labor intensive. A small city, though…" she offered with a sly grin. She shook her head. "If you're going to insist on me baking, I have to know what I'm dealing with, Rett."
"A small… Helona, if you're trying to steal my kingdom, here, you'll need to do more than poison me, darling. I was bit by a snake, remember? I'm pretty resilient." With a grin, he gave her a nudge with his foot, "Baking, however, is definitely a way to get me weak… damn you, woman."
"You say that now," Helona said with a wicked grin, leaning back in her chair with her fingers lacing in front of her. She, once again, gave into her tendency to sit like a villain in chairs, though this time it was a bit more intentional. "You don't know what I have in store for you yet, though." She laughed as she felt him nudge her leg. "Checkmate. Found your weak spot."
Chuckling brightly, Munroe crossed his arms over his chest, looking at her with a sight fondness, as he shook his head, "...One of my weak spots, Lona. I have a few. Not many, but… a few. And oddly enough, most have something to do with you."
"Sometimes all it takes is one," Helona said lightly with a shrug. She raised an eyebrow, her head tilting. "Is that so?" she asked, eyes narrowing in interest. "I must have made an even greater impression on you that I thought, Rett. To have affected a man with so few weak spots."
With a shrug, he grinned, "...You generally make a pretty big impression on most people, Helona." Uncrossing his arms, he rose and moved to collect the plates, returning them to the kitchen counter, "...Can I get you anything else? More wine? More cheesecake?"
"That's fair," Helona admitted, hands raised, "though most of the time, that ends up with me getting nicknames like Harpy." She wore a grin despite her comment, eyes tracking him as he rose to his feet. "I'll never say no to more cheesecake," she added, before her eyes flicked to the clock. "I might actually need to go at some point soon, though, or else I'll have a sixteen year old and several young adults in their twenties hounding me about staying out so late." She rolled her eyes in amusement at the prospect of having all of them on her case.
"Harpy? That's pretty creative for this lot down here. I imagine you picked that one up in the military, then?" With a laugh, Munroe nodded, "And no worries… I can put a slice in a container for the road. I imagine it's probably better not to make them wait up too late. They'll start asking awkward questions… I'll get weird, angry threats… Ugly all around."
"Rett," Helona scolded, though it lacked any real impact due to her laughing immediately after. "Definitely the military. Something said along the lines of 'she could pick the flesh off a man's bones', I think. Harpies came up as a result, and so then I was forever Sargeant Harpy." She shrugged lightly, largely unbothered by the nickname. "Let them ask. I've got nothing to hide. I just think it's cruel to keep them up so far past their bedtime, since I know they're waiting on me," she joked. "...Though you seem pretty concerned about those questions and threats…"
"I'm sure it was meant to be endearing?" He said, though it was more of a question, as he laughed again, carving off a slice of cheesecake and setting it into a tupperware. As he brought it over to the table, he glanced down at her with a small smile and shrugged, "I've seen Nick's interrogation skills, Lona. He takes after his mother. Trust me… it's better we don't tread on that ice…"
"It wasn't originally. But I thought it was funny, so I started messing with them," Helona answered, shaking her head. "It probably stuck because of my reaction to it, honestly." She watched with an eager smile, reaching out for the tupperware as she rose to her feet. Taking it in her hands, she barked a laugh. "He definitely learned from the best," she teased with a wink and a wicked grin.
"Sometimes the best way to beat them is to join them…" Munroe said, with a small nod, "Though I don't imagine it would spread too quickly down here. Especially if word gets out you're a baker." With a wink, he held out a hand to help her up, before stepping back, "And yes, he did. This was wonderful, Helona. I do hope we can do this again, soon."
"Everett, if word gets out that I'm a baker, it's not going to be Nick's interrogation skills you should be worried about," she warned, pointing a finger at him. She'd taken his hand to stand up, but her grasp lingered a little longer than it maybe should have, even as he pulled away. "I hope so, too," she agreed. The flicker of hesitation was back, that made Helona pause in her decision, before she once again stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Munroe in a hug. "And really, let's not have it be because of a brush with death next time," she added in a murmur, her breath ghosting the shell of his ear.
"Your secret is safe with me… So long as you keep your hands off my throne, my dear." With a small flicker of surprise, Munroe took a moment before he returned the hug, warmth reigning, lighting up the tips of his ears and edges of his cheeks. He chuckled softly, with a firm nod, "Yes. Definitely try to avoid meeting up like this for that reason, again, any time soon."
"We'll see," Helona said vaguely, a wicked grin taking hold of her features at the challenge. "Maybe that's how I win the love of the people, Rett. With sugar and chocolate chips." She stayed there a moment, missing how Munroe blushed in response, before eventually pulling away. With the tupperware container in hand, she reached back to the table to pick up the silver ring from where it had lain forgotten since she'd first taken it off. She didn't put it back on. "I'll do my best," she assured him, and she truly did mean it.
"Oh… Trying to bribe the people. That's nice, Lona. That's real nice…" He teased, with a smile, before he released her, to allow her to pull away. As she reached for the ring, he watched, and breathed out softly as she clutched it, without returning it to her finger. More for her sake than his own, he truly hoped she could get past it all… truly…
"...I'll see you next time then, Lona." He nodded, gesturing to the door before escorting her there, "...And I'll try to step up my cooking game."
"It's not bribery, it's...incentive to hear me out," Helona chuckled. She followed him to the door, idly fiddling with the ring as she went, appearing to be in thought. "Until next time, Rett," she agreed, nearly out the door before his words hit her. She looked back at him, a little owl-eyed. "...There's a step up from the Carbonara?" she breathed.
"Incentive. You're speaking like a politician already. I'm afraid, now." He added with a smirk. Pulling open the door, he paused as she did, and laughed with a nod, "...Oh, I've got a few things up my sleeve. You'll just have to wait and see. Goodnight, Lona."
"You should be, darling," she laughed. She snorted, shaking her head as he answered. "I see you. I see what you're doing. Getting me hooked so I come back for more. You're a devious man, Rett," Helona sighed, clicking her tongue. "Goodnight." With a smile and the container of cheesecake in hand, she slipped out the door again. As she walked away, back towards home, she turned the silver ring over in her fingers. She'd worn it one last time, and she'd made her decision. She said she'd let nothing stop her progress. Not even herself.
