As always, Rukia felt a chill of apprehension when the Head Doctor announced that new patients would be arriving. Would it be anyone else she knew? What if Ichigo was back
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Jack was surprised to hear his "name" among those that were called. Who the hell was gonna visit him in this joint? It wasn't as if he could claim having a lot of people in his life who were concerned about his wellbeing. Maybe it'd be someone come to gloat.
Whatever the case, he'd make them get him out of Landels. There wasn't a single person he couldn't intimidate into doing his wishes when he wanted to. Ok, maybe there were a few, but still...
Enough thought. The Fable settled into a chair and waited for his "visitor" to appear.
As luck would have it, there was someone who Jack couldn't bully or coerce into helping him fly the coop. He was a rather scruffy-looking guy, with wild brown hair. It looked as though he hadn't shaved in a couple days, too. The nurse showed the man into the room (after making him put out his cigarette), wrinkling her nose slightly at the perfect picture of dishevelment. He sat down across from his friend without any invitation.
The Fable's jaw nearly dropped to the floor in surprise. Of all the people who could have come visit him, it was Bigby? Damn it. The oversized wolf was probably just itching to beat on him for something, whether it be winding up here or as far back as stealing from Bluebeard. Beast probably had told Bigby where to start his search for Jack after he stole all his hard earned and legitimate money from him. Hell, maybe they knew about the offshore accounts and Bigby was here to make him talk. Regardless, as unhappy as he was to see the former Sheriff, Jack knew that Bigby would much rather see him incarcerated in the Fabletown jail than in any mundy psyche ward.
He couldn't help but smirk back at his old acquaintance. "Well, Hey there, Sheriff! Long time, no see."
Well, at least John had his occupation right. That was a start, right? Perhaps there wouldn't be anymore of this ridiculous "I'm Jack of Fables!" crap anymore. He didn't really like setting John straight all the time--and what a seriously childish delusion to have. Making movies had obviously gotten to his head.
"Yeah, long time no see," He replied. "How have you been doing? I've heard this place is really nice--good food too."
What was Bigby saying? How had he been doing? This place is nice? Good food? Had the years finally caught up to him? Since when did the wolf care about his wellbeing?
"Uh," The Fable didn't quite know how to respond to that. Part of him wanted to demand what was wrong with the other man, but another part of him wondered if this wasn't part of a secret plan to get him out of Landel's and it was expected that he play along, lest he jeopardize his shot at escaping. Maybe Briar Rose needed time to get into position and they were buying her time to put the compound to sleep; maybe Frau Totenkinder was casting a spell; hell, maybe that damned Liliputian who had reported him to the Fabletown authorities had felt so wracked with guilt that the only thing she could think to do was organize a jailbreak (Hey, it wasn't as if she could sleep with him at her size!). "I've been better. You hear this place is nice, huh? Who tells you that?"
Still, it was an odd tactic. Maybe Bigby was opening up by acting so un-Bigby like that Jack knew
( ... )
The man shrugged his large shoulders, "I've read some stuff on Landel. Seems like an upstanding kinda guy. And the place sure isn't hurtin' for employees, so it must be well-funded."
He looked around the room, "Plenty'a patients here too. And the price tag is-- well, let's just say it's a damn good thing you made so much money before you lost it. I mean, uh,"
Well damn. That was one of the things he wasn't supposed to talk about, wasn't it?
Jack narrowed his eyes. Bigby was looking for a bruising, wasn't he? Granted, he knew he couldn't take on a giant wolf man (not for lack of trying; he seriously could not take him on. He'd learned that the hard way), but when the wolf made reference to his lost funds...
Well, he'd rather not think about it. There were plenty of other odd things Bigby was saying. Like what was that about the price tag?
"Price tag? What?" He blinked. No. No, no, no. There was no fucking way they were paying for him to be here. HERE. He had to have misheard. They had a deal, him and Beast. Beast said that if Jack disappeared, he'd leave him alone and by golly, Jack HAD disappeared and gone underground. There was no way they were backstabbing him now. He gritted his teeth. "What are you talking about, Bigby?"
"John," The man arched an eyebrow, wondering just why John was getting so upset. "Things aren't free, y'know. This place comes with fees--to room, board, and medicate you. Y'think this is a charity operation?" He laughed. "God no. And secondly, I told you not to call me that."
He'd been warned that John might not recognize him, maybe even call him by a different name. But he was going to set John straight. None of this 'Bigby Wolf' crap. As far as he was concerned, the only way to fix this mess was tough love. Well, as close to love as he and John Trick could get--which was about the distance from the sun to Pluto.
Jack could not believe it. No wonder he couldn't make sense of anything. Those bastards in Fabletown were paying for him to be here. He had done everything Beast had asked of him--hell, he had even let him rob him blind without so much as a fight. For what? So they could repay his cooperation with THIS?! Beast has told Jack that he wanted to keep his record as sheriff spotless as far as bloodshed went but, oh, would the Fable give him blood.
And why couldn't he call Bigby's name? Bigby had never said he couldn't. Was this what they were playing at now? Bigby was here to rub in the fact that it was Fabletown behind all this and then what? Make shit up? The Fable clentched his hands in fists. "A 'charity operation'?" He scoffed. "Of course not. We both know that, don't we?"
He was going to kill them all. With his bare hands. No matter what it took.
"Glad you do," the man nodded once, clenching and unclenching his hand. He was fidgity. He needed another cigarette, pronto. But, he was supposed to make sure John was okay in this place, and by God, he was going to do it. No matter how boring the conversation was or how hostile John got. "Not like livin' at home, obviously. Real world 'n all that."
He could sense that John was upset about something, but as far as he was concerned, he couldn't see what. Maybe it was time to bend the rules--just a bit. "Hey John. Y'still think that... uh, that you did all that stuff in your movies, don't you?"
Jack stared right into his visitor's eyes. What was Bigby saying? Why was he even bringing that up? And why was he acting so god damn weird? The wolf always had a way to piss the Giant Slayer off, but it typically didn't happen like that. Bigby was concerned about his wellbeing yet at the same time openly admitted that Jack had been put here "to get better". It made no sense, unless...
Jack's fists unclenched and he started to laugh. Soft at first, he grew into a good natured chuckle. "You're not Bigby," he stated, as if he had undergone the greatest epiphany of his life. "You sure do look like him, but you're not him."
He beamed at his visitor. "Do I think I did all that stuff in my movies? Of course not! Those are all stories I made up. Whoever thinks otherwise needs to have his head examined."
The man raised his eyebrow. First he was talking about someone who didn't exist, and suddenly he was acting sane. Yup, same old slippery John Trick.
"I guess that's why you were landed here, then," He said with a short laugh. "Because you did think that. Y'were running around claiming that everyone was from a fairy tale. But I guess a few days in this place have straightened you out.
"One question though," He narrowed his eyes at Jack, "Who's Bigby?"
Jack didn't miss a beat and rolled his eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of method acting?"
He leaned back in his seat, looking as calm as could be. "I came up with this plan to get all my money back, you see. I'm gonna make another blockbuster. Something like "One flew over the Cuckoo's nest". Didn't anyone say anything to you?"
He lowered his voice. "Look, I didn't want to tell anyone, short of a few guys, what was going on because the more people who know, the less who want to play along. I'm only pretending to be bonkers, ok? I trust you not to spread it around, though I do have a favor to ask of you."
If this worked, Jack would be congratulating himself for the next century.
The man smiled, "Right. I think you did mention something to me about that--when they were carrying you off. It sounded something like, 'I'm not fucking crazy, you goddamn mundies!' Give or take a few choice words."
John had seemed to have forgotten that he hadn't committed himself, which made this little charade fall a bit flat. But, he was willing to humor the man. He sighed, "What's the favor?"
"A phone call." Bigby had to have a cellphone, whether or not it was actually him. If they were so insistant on throwing a false Bigby at him, they had to include all the details.
"I want to let the staff know my acting period is almost up so they can get ready to end the production and get me out of here," he continued, attempting to explain his motivation, but really hoping he could reach the real Fabletown.
"A phone call?" The man repeated, eyebrows raised. He gave a short laugh, "John, who the hell are you going to call? Your staff's moved on, you don't have a production company anymore, remember?
"And even if you did have someone to call, I'm not supposed to let you have anything like that. I can't pass anything to a mental patient, John--God knows what you'll do with it, too."
Whatever the case, he'd make them get him out of Landels. There wasn't a single person he couldn't intimidate into doing his wishes when he wanted to. Ok, maybe there were a few, but still...
Enough thought. The Fable settled into a chair and waited for his "visitor" to appear.
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"Afternoon, John," The man growled.
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He couldn't help but smirk back at his old acquaintance. "Well, Hey there, Sheriff! Long time, no see."
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"Yeah, long time no see," He replied. "How have you been doing? I've heard this place is really nice--good food too."
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What was Bigby saying? How had he been doing? This place is nice? Good food? Had the years finally caught up to him? Since when did the wolf care about his wellbeing?
"Uh," The Fable didn't quite know how to respond to that. Part of him wanted to demand what was wrong with the other man, but another part of him wondered if this wasn't part of a secret plan to get him out of Landel's and it was expected that he play along, lest he jeopardize his shot at escaping. Maybe Briar Rose needed time to get into position and they were buying her time to put the compound to sleep; maybe Frau Totenkinder was casting a spell; hell, maybe that damned Liliputian who had reported him to the Fabletown authorities had felt so wracked with guilt that the only thing she could think to do was organize a jailbreak (Hey, it wasn't as if she could sleep with him at her size!). "I've been better. You hear this place is nice, huh? Who tells you that?"
Still, it was an odd tactic. Maybe Bigby was opening up by acting so un-Bigby like that Jack knew ( ... )
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He looked around the room, "Plenty'a patients here too. And the price tag is-- well, let's just say it's a damn good thing you made so much money before you lost it. I mean, uh,"
Well damn. That was one of the things he wasn't supposed to talk about, wasn't it?
"Before you got sick."
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Well, he'd rather not think about it. There were plenty of other odd things Bigby was saying. Like what was that about the price tag?
"Price tag? What?" He blinked. No. No, no, no. There was no fucking way they were paying for him to be here. HERE. He had to have misheard. They had a deal, him and Beast. Beast said that if Jack disappeared, he'd leave him alone and by golly, Jack HAD disappeared and gone underground. There was no way they were backstabbing him now. He gritted his teeth. "What are you talking about, Bigby?"
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He'd been warned that John might not recognize him, maybe even call him by a different name. But he was going to set John straight. None of this 'Bigby Wolf' crap. As far as he was concerned, the only way to fix this mess was tough love. Well, as close to love as he and John Trick could get--which was about the distance from the sun to Pluto.
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And why couldn't he call Bigby's name? Bigby had never said he couldn't. Was this what they were playing at now? Bigby was here to rub in the fact that it was Fabletown behind all this and then what? Make shit up? The Fable clentched his hands in fists. "A 'charity operation'?" He scoffed. "Of course not. We both know that, don't we?"
He was going to kill them all. With his bare hands. No matter what it took.
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He could sense that John was upset about something, but as far as he was concerned, he couldn't see what. Maybe it was time to bend the rules--just a bit. "Hey John. Y'still think that... uh, that you did all that stuff in your movies, don't you?"
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Jack's fists unclenched and he started to laugh. Soft at first, he grew into a good natured chuckle. "You're not Bigby," he stated, as if he had undergone the greatest epiphany of his life. "You sure do look like him, but you're not him."
He beamed at his visitor. "Do I think I did all that stuff in my movies? Of course not! Those are all stories I made up. Whoever thinks otherwise needs to have his head examined."
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"I guess that's why you were landed here, then," He said with a short laugh. "Because you did think that. Y'were running around claiming that everyone was from a fairy tale. But I guess a few days in this place have straightened you out.
"One question though," He narrowed his eyes at Jack, "Who's Bigby?"
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He leaned back in his seat, looking as calm as could be. "I came up with this plan to get all my money back, you see. I'm gonna make another blockbuster. Something like "One flew over the Cuckoo's nest". Didn't anyone say anything to you?"
He lowered his voice. "Look, I didn't want to tell anyone, short of a few guys, what was going on because the more people who know, the less who want to play along. I'm only pretending to be bonkers, ok? I trust you not to spread it around, though I do have a favor to ask of you."
If this worked, Jack would be congratulating himself for the next century.
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John had seemed to have forgotten that he hadn't committed himself, which made this little charade fall a bit flat. But, he was willing to humor the man. He sighed, "What's the favor?"
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"I want to let the staff know my acting period is almost up so they can get ready to end the production and get me out of here," he continued, attempting to explain his motivation, but really hoping he could reach the real Fabletown.
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"And even if you did have someone to call, I'm not supposed to let you have anything like that. I can't pass anything to a mental patient, John--God knows what you'll do with it, too."
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