Past the open windows on the darker streets/Where unseen angry voices flash and children cry

[glass_beddau]

[Heading back out]
[Late enough to worry]

"Yeah." Dorian pulls himself up and I lean into him, arms light 'round him until I need to pull back enough to get to my feet. "We should go." And then he's adding "You don't have to go with me. You know that," and I realize he's talking about that we, not our we.

"I won't hurt him," and I think he

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[oscar_merton]

I can hear them talking in the next room, muffled voices until the door clicks shut. And then I'm alone. It's hard to move with my hands behind my back and harder still to find the energy, to breathe through the tears and the quick little gasps and-- But I roll to my side, with my back to the door. It's stupid and petty and pointless, and I don't care. I feel better for it.

I'm still drunk. The room is still spinning, slowly, when I close my eyes. But I'm sobering. It's a horrifying feeling, to slowly realize where you are when it's handcuffed and lying on a bathroom floor. Ignored or forgotten and alone.

I'm alone.

I don't know how long it lasts. It feels longer than it is, I think. I think of the woman, lying idiot whore for a dog, and I think of my mother, too. I think of the look on Berzin's face before I pulled the trigger, and I think of Victor laughing when I told him I'd be home soon. But mostly I think of how unfair it is, that he's out there and I'm in here.

[glass_beddau]

"It's a brothel. I go there sometimes, on my nights off."

"What," softly, just standing there with my sweater still caught up around my arms, and looking at him. It's not very loud, I don't think I could be very loud at all right now. I feel very soft, somehow.

"I make sure no one bothers the girls."

"Oh." Pause for a second, and then finish pulling my sweater on and down. Feel a little chilly, somehow, and put my heels back in the closet, pick up a second sweater. My boots are by the door; I'm fine to go, I think. "You-- what, you work there?" No. I guess not, but there's some hoping, I guess, there's...

Such a civilian.

[dorian_excolo]

It's very strange now, something in the air between us, something to do with the way she's looking at me. "You-- what, you work there?"

"No." I pause, thinking, before explaining. "I just make sure people know they are protected." I wish I knew what else to say. "They try to give me money, sometimes, but I don't take it." Or at least that I knew why this feels so odd. "It's a nice place." If that's what she's worried about. "We'll put Oscar in Maria's room."

[glass_beddau]

"No. I just make sure people know they are protected," and it's making even less sense. "They try to give me money, sometimes, but I don't take it."

"Why not?" It's an odd feeling now, curiousity coming on a little stronger. Not enough to drown out that anxious knot in my stomach, but it's something else to think about.

"It's a nice place. We'll put Oscar in Maria's room."

"Who," and I realize I don't care, shake my head and push that part away. "Wasn't worried if it was nice. Was worried if they'd be able to manage him." I called you, after all.

[dorian_excolo]

"Why not?"

"I'm not a pimp," I say, because it's the only simple way of explaining a situation that is not very simple at all.

"Wasn't worried if it was nice. Was worried if they'd be able to manage him." I step away from the door. I want to touch her, even just her shoulder, her hand, but I don't. "I wouldn't take him there if I didn't think it would work." I look at her then, trying to work out what's going on behind her eyes. It doesn't work, of course, but I try. "What's wrong?"

[glass_beddau]

"I'm not a pimp," which is fine, although you worked for one is both true and entirely unhelpful at this point so I'm not going there.

"I wouldn't take him there if I didn't think it would work." Fair enough, although I am feeling even rather more incapable of dealing with Oscar and things like him by comparison. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know." And it feels true, there's that at least, and I relax a little. Not enough, but okay. Rake one hand back through my hair and shake my head a little. Come on, Beddau, you know he used to sleep with other people, can we put off getting anxious about it until after we are done with the teenage kidnap victim? "I'm just feeling a bit out of my depth. D'you need a hand getting him out?" Gesture to the door.

[dorian_excolo]

"I don't know," she says and it's not the answer I want, but I'll take it as the answer she has. If something were the matter, she would tell me. I have to know that. "I'm just feeling a bit out of my depth. D'you need a hand getting him out?"

"No. Wait here." I step into the bathroom. He's not exactly light when I pull him to his feet, but I feel better for Glass being in the other room. I can put my hands on the boy without seeing the bruise on her face, for one.

His face is tear-stained and red, but he looks me right in the eye. I wish I could do the same, but I'm tired and I don't care and I look away after a beat. "You can walk or I can carry you."

The boy opens his mouth and closes it again. Finally he answers. "I will walk." Good.

I can still feel him looking at me as I open the door, but my hand's tight on his arm. "Grab the throw from the living room," I tell Glass. There's more to say, to Oscar, but I leave it alone. He already knows, what I'll do if he touches her again.

[glass_beddau]

I really need to stop feeling sorry for Oscar. Sure I'll manage, any minute now...

Grab the throw, and bring it back, and go to pick up Dorian's bag. I don't imagine it's the sort of thing it wouldn't be useful to have, although I'm still not thinking about why he'd have it. It's an odd sort of distant feeling.

"D'you want me to bring the car around?" Wishing I could do something useful. "I need to get his bag out of the trunk, too."

[dorian_excolo]

I toss the blanket over Oscar's shoulders and we start towards the door. "D'you want me to bring the car around?" Glass says, coming back with my bag. I'd forgotten about it, honestly, and I give her a weak smile for the quick thinking. "I need to get his bag out of the trunk, too."

"We'll take my car." It doesn't matter, one or the other, except that I'd rather keep her out of this entirely and not using her car seems a step in the right direction. "I'll pull it around while you get his bag."

[glass_beddau]

"'kay." Fold the spare sweater into Dorian's bag, pull on my boots, and lock up after them. It's a weirdly domestic thing to be doing, somehow. No, guys, you go get the car, I'll lock up...

Want to laugh, a little, and don't.

It's quiet, at least. Head down the stairs and out, and grab Oscar's bag out of the trunk. Confess I'm a bit curious, who wouldn't be, and take a look...

...possibly carrying money around in quantities that make me think of a kitchen scale, rather than a wallet, is a European thing. I imagine I wouldn't really know. And it leaves me hopeful, a little. I mean, if the only thing on your mind was killing yourself, you might not bother with picking up clothes and things? Maybe? Habit's strong, but...

I don't mind hoping.

Close the trunk, take a minute to check that the cigarette butt that he dropped in my car has properly gone out, and wait for Dorian to bring the car around.

[oscar_merton]

We pass a few people on the way out. He puts his arm around my shoulders and-- I close my eyes, keep walking to the parking lot. It is a small thing, but it is all I have. He smells like sweat and cigarettes.

There is a beep and I open my eyes. It is not his car. Or it is at least not the car I had tailed. He pulls away and I can breathe again.

"You can ride in the backseat. Or you can ride in the trunk."

I-- "Where are you taking me?" I keep my voice down, I am not stupid, but it is like I've said nothing at all. He just looks at me. There is a threat there, or a deal, I do not know. But he would put me into the trunk, wouldn't he? And not blink. Dammit. "The backseat will do. Thank you."

In the backseat I close my eyes again. I can hear the door close, the engine, the radio too low to make out. But I can pretend that I don't hear anything at all.

[glass_beddau]

...really, what do you say in a situation like this? Not much, I imagine. Get in and mostly buckle my seatbelt. My head still hurts, and I'm reaching for the glove compartment before I remember it's not my car, there probably isn't any painkiller there, and glance over my shoulder towards Oscar

"You alright?" Silly kind of question, really. Not expecting much of an answer. Look at Dorian, shrugging a little.

"How long 'til we get there?"

[dorian_excolo]

There's silence from the backseat.

"How long 'til we get there?"

"Twenty minutes." A rough estimate, but I don't think she was asking for something exact. I glance over. "Depending on traffic." I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. Because something is wrong. She said she didn't know. She didn't say that she was okay.

"Where would you like to eat?" I say, and I don't know how to do this. I really don't.

[glass_beddau]

"Where would you like to eat?" and I shake my head--not that I don't want to eat, but it takes me a minute to switch gears.

"Not sure what's around there," I say, and then an odd sort of thought occurs to me. "D'you like pizza? I mean, I know we ordered it in that one time, but I don't know if you actually like it, given other options." We mostly seem to end up with diner food, if we're out. I swear I've started getting getting fonder of the smell of slightly overbrewed coffee.

And it's quiet again, and it doesn't feel as comfortable as it could sometimes, and I wish I knew if it was all Oscar.

"Honey?" Touch his arm, lightly--not coming in from his blind spot, and making sure there isn't anything in traffic he needs to watch first, but half of that's just minding the driver's attention. "`m really glad you`re here, you know?"

[dorian_excolo]

"Pizza is fine." It's quiet then, for a long stretch. I concentrate on driving. Maybe it's Oscar, maybe it's the night. But maybe it's me, I don't know.

"Honey?" She touches my arm and I don't look away from the road, but I want to. "`m really glad you`re here, you know?" I take a hand from the wheel and rest it between us for her to hold, if she'd like.

I smile, a little, in the dark. There's something I should say -- I'm glad you called or I missed you -- but I don't say it. I don't have the chance.

"And no one cares. Can we turn on the radio?"

I don't turn around. But my smile fades away. "You can shut up. Or I can gag you." The silence is back. I sigh. And reach for Glass's hand. "Glad you called. I missed you."

[glass_beddau]

Take his hand, and lean back, and it helps.

"I care," I say, not bothering to look back at Oscar. "He cares." Ugh, why am I engaging with the little... I shake my head, and stretch my fingers through Dorian's. "Missed you too. I wasn't sure..." If I should call, if I should wait, if you were alright. "What'd you do? Since I saw you last. It's strange, you not being there, you know?"