justprompts Turn Around
(Picture prompt. Bela = enjoythe_ride. Michael = feel_theburn. Set in the Gorgeous verse.)
Bobby's phone had been ringing for sometime. He had been out front, hoping whoever was calling would hang the hell up. But they didn't. "Damnit," he muttered. He made his way inside the front door and grabbed his phone, checking the lines first to see who he was supposed to be. Okay. He was supposed to be Bobby. "What," he snapped into the phone.
"Bobby Singer."
"You got 'em. Watcha want?"
"Mr. Singer, this is Michael Westen. We spoke roughly a year ago about a woman named Bela Talbot."
Bobby had recognized the name immediately. He didn't need the clue. You don't forget telling a man that the woman he cares about is dead. Especially when she wasn't dead at all. "I remember," he said with a nod. "How you been?"
"Fine. I've been fine. Look...I know what happened. In the broad sense. I know Bela didn't die last year."
Bobby's head came up slowly as he processed this news. "Scuse me, son?"
"Bela. She hasn't told me what happened specifically, but...I know that you two planned for her to be dead. I've seen her myself."
"You've what?" Bobby's fist came down on the counter. "That wouldn't be possible. She's outta the country."
"She might be now, but she hasn't been the past few months," Michael said slowly. He was now starting to doubt just how much Bela had told this man. "Which...you didn't know."
"Course I didn't know! I told her to stay away and stay dead! We shouldn't even be talkin' about her on the phone like this! Damnit. Where is she?"
He listened as Mike let out a long sigh. "I was...hoping you'd be able to help me on that."
"Y'lost her?" Bobby's jaw was tight at this point. Michael was quiet on the other end of the line for a bit before he replied.
"Well...I didn't misplace her, no. She was in Miami. She left."
"And why would she do that?" Bobby knew Bela well enough to know that if she was breaking the rules, rules about something so damn important like her life, then there must be a good reason. He just hadn't imagined that reason would be this man. And frankly it didn't do anything to make him less pissed at her right then.
"I told her to," Mike said simply.
"Then what're we doin' here?"
"Look. We had a...miss communication. I'd like to speak with her, but she won't answer my calls. I have no idea where she is. If you have any clue.."
"I don't," Bobby said simply. "And I advise you keep this little search of yours quiet. Unless you want her dead for real." Then Bobby slammed the phone down. No way was he telling anyone over the phone where Bela might be. He knew she had a place in New York, but he really hoped she wouldn't be stupid enough to go back there.
His hand ran over his beard slowly as he tried to hold himself together. This girl would be the death of him. He had always thought his boys were gonna kill him, but no. She was giving them a run for their money. He hit the counter again. He could have sworn she was smarter than all of this. He had saved her from those hellhounds. He gave her a life again. He got her the hell out of the United States, set her up with cash, and the beginnings of a new life. He had breathed a bit easier because he thought she was across the ocean, alive and well. Instead she'd been halfway across the country, putting herself back in that danger.
What the hell has his rescuing her been if not to keep her safe? He grabbed his phone and punched Bela's old cellphone number into it. It went straight to voicemail.
"Call me," he barked sharply, before hanging up.
648
Bobby's phone had been ringing for sometime. He had been out front, hoping whoever was calling would hang the hell up. But they didn't. "Damnit," he muttered. He made his way inside the front door and grabbed his phone, checking the lines first to see who he was supposed to be. Okay. He was supposed to be Bobby. "What," he snapped into the phone.
"Bobby Singer."
"You got 'em. Watcha want?"
"Mr. Singer, this is Michael Westen. We spoke roughly a year ago about a woman named Bela Talbot."
Bobby had recognized the name immediately. He didn't need the clue. You don't forget telling a man that the woman he cares about is dead. Especially when she wasn't dead at all. "I remember," he said with a nod. "How you been?"
"Fine. I've been fine. Look...I know what happened. In the broad sense. I know Bela didn't die last year."
Bobby's head came up slowly as he processed this news. "Scuse me, son?"
"Bela. She hasn't told me what happened specifically, but...I know that you two planned for her to be dead. I've seen her myself."
"You've what?" Bobby's fist came down on the counter. "That wouldn't be possible. She's outta the country."
"She might be now, but she hasn't been the past few months," Michael said slowly. He was now starting to doubt just how much Bela had told this man. "Which...you didn't know."
"Course I didn't know! I told her to stay away and stay dead! We shouldn't even be talkin' about her on the phone like this! Damnit. Where is she?"
He listened as Mike let out a long sigh. "I was...hoping you'd be able to help me on that."
"Y'lost her?" Bobby's jaw was tight at this point. Michael was quiet on the other end of the line for a bit before he replied.
"Well...I didn't misplace her, no. She was in Miami. She left."
"And why would she do that?" Bobby knew Bela well enough to know that if she was breaking the rules, rules about something so damn important like her life, then there must be a good reason. He just hadn't imagined that reason would be this man. And frankly it didn't do anything to make him less pissed at her right then.
"I told her to," Mike said simply.
"Then what're we doin' here?"
"Look. We had a...miss communication. I'd like to speak with her, but she won't answer my calls. I have no idea where she is. If you have any clue.."
"I don't," Bobby said simply. "And I advise you keep this little search of yours quiet. Unless you want her dead for real." Then Bobby slammed the phone down. No way was he telling anyone over the phone where Bela might be. He knew she had a place in New York, but he really hoped she wouldn't be stupid enough to go back there.
His hand ran over his beard slowly as he tried to hold himself together. This girl would be the death of him. He had always thought his boys were gonna kill him, but no. She was giving them a run for their money. He hit the counter again. He could have sworn she was smarter than all of this. He had saved her from those hellhounds. He gave her a life again. He got her the hell out of the United States, set her up with cash, and the beginnings of a new life. He had breathed a bit easier because he thought she was across the ocean, alive and well. Instead she'd been halfway across the country, putting herself back in that danger.
What the hell has his rescuing her been if not to keep her safe? He grabbed his phone and punched Bela's old cellphone number into it. It went straight to voicemail.
"Call me," he barked sharply, before hanging up.
648