Bruce Wainright has (onerule) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-07-15 06:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, mary jane watson |
Who: MK and Luke
What: Visits~
Where: The hospital that asks no questions.
When: Before MK was released.
Warnings/Rating: Broken bbs being precious.
Luke would have greatly preferred to never return to the private hospital where Wren had been temporarily held, but he wanted to visit MK, and in this there was no middle ground. Paranoia was a tricky thing to shake, and despite the lack of names he was still watched for the police over his shoulder, flinching at sirens, at least until he reassured himself that he’d left no evidence, nothing that could be traced back to him. Unless one of his friends had turned him in--which they wouldn’t, not even Simon, he had to believe that--then he should have been safe from the law for a little longer. Bit by bit he began to relax, and admittedly it was easier to do so now that Alexander was dead. It was like the boogeyman had finally been vanquished and they could all sleep a little easier, despite the looming shadow left in his wake.
Perhaps it left him at a disadvantage, the fact that he didn’t know the full extent of what Alexander had done to her. He knew it was bad, because he had seen the blood on the plane, but details always made things worse. It was hard to feel guilty for ending Alexander’s life when faced with proof of his destruction. Maybe, he thought, in a way, it might help.
He left Gus with Jack, telling him the truth this time, or at least a version of it, and promised to be back soon. The little boy still doubted him, he could see that, but after telling him that he could call whenever he wanted to make sure he stopped looking so wary. He didn’t tell Wren about going to see MK, simply because he didn’t see the point of doing so beforehand. Once he’d been, and she couldn’t argue with him about it, then he would tell her. For a moment he worried that Simon might be there, but when he arrived at the hospital there was no one outside MK’s door, no one familiar in the waiting room, and so he breathed a sigh of relief. The cost of getting rid of Alexander had been high, and he knew he’d lost Simon as a friend because of him; he just hoped he’d be able to lie convincingly enough to MK to ensure he didn’t lose her too.
The nurses recognized him from before, and while they raised their eyebrows at him, probably suspecting he had something to do with Wren’s little escape, they didn’t stop him from knocking on MK’s door and pushing the door open. He couldn’t hide the fact that he looked exhausted, but he could pretend about everything else, even though MK had accused him of doing that very thing. He just couldn’t tell her the truth, though. Wren and Simon were already burdened with that because of him, and he couldn’t do it to her too.
“MK?” He didn’t step into the room entirely, not yet, opting to stick his head inside first in case she was sleeping or had changed her mind about having visitors. In one hand he held one of those silly get well soon teddy bears, from a flower shop he'd stopped at on the way, but as cheesy as it was he thought she might like it. And, really, it was just the sort of awkward gesture one might expect from him, even after all these years.
MK was quickly approaching the point of crazed cabin fever, that much was certain. The nurses liked her (some she was sure recognized her, too, but thankfully kept the suspicions to themselves) and chatted with her quite often when they weren’t busy with other patients. She had visitors, too, and other things to distract her -- books, the television, her tablet, conversations on her phone -- but nothing seemed to work. For a girl who developed a habit of flight at the first sign of trouble, being trapped in a white, sterile hospital room was the worst case scenario. Well, jail was worse, but at least she could walk around there. Here, it was a crime in and of itself to even think of going anywhere without the nurses’ permission, and the fact that MK couldn’t actually walk was besides the point. She was nearly completely over it all and ready to claw her eyes out, but that didn’t work in her favor in the doctor’s eyes. She needed more time to recover and assured her that, yes, when they believed she was ready, she could go home with Adam. But not until they believed she was ready.
Luke popping his head in startled her for a moment, body tensing and eyes alight with trepidation, and she visibly relaxed when she saw who it was. She offered him a small smile, a simple lift of her lip, and pressed a button to lock her tablet before placing it on the bedside table, where a small stack of books and Silver’s flowers already took residence. “Hey, sweetheart,” she said, trying to muster up her greatest, most chipper voice, even while he could tell she felt anything but good. The blood was gone now, and she was a very pale vision in her hospital issued gown. Her shock of red hair seemed to exaggerate how pale she was, purple bags underneath her eyes matching the purple marks on her face and arms. He surely couldn’t see all the damage from there, but he could assume, of course.
“Come on in,” she assured him, pointing at the chair next to her bed and waving him in as if he were here for a happier circumstance than her recovering from being brutally assaulted for more than a week.
Luke was, unfortunately, very good at filling in the blanks for himself, and he could imagine the amount of blood she must have lost to appear so pale. It was incredible, how much people could bleed without dying, but he tried not to think about it, tried not to picture what sort of injuries existed where he couldn’t see them. Nothing could be done. The past was the past, and he couldn’t change it no matter how badly he hoped; he could only remind himself that it was over, and they’d all made it through alive. “Hey,” he greeted, unconsciously matching her tone, as though pretending hard enough could erase the real reason she was here. He made himself smile before he stepped inside, and it almost felt like old times, when it seemed as though he’d visited a hospital for one reason or another nearly every week. He fidgeted with the bear in his hands as he made his way to the chair and sat, trying to ignore the purple marks that stood out vividly against her pale skin.
“Nice flowers,” he commented, assuming they were from Adam or Simon, and after a moment seemed to recall he had the bear and held it out sheepishly. “It’s lame, I know,” he said with a shrug.
She took the bear from him with a bright smile and rolled her eyes. “Shut up, you’re adorable. It’s perfect,” MK assured him, placing it on top of the tiny pile of books collected on the bed stand before looking back at him. “Oh, yeah,” she said, waving a hand towards the flowers. “Wren’s friend Silver sent them. It was sweet.” She didn’t know about the rivalry between Silver and Luke for Wren’s affections, or if she did, she couldn’t remember it at that moment. She regarded Luke with a tilt of the head and pressed her lips together into a tight line. “You look exhausted. That’s not fine, Mr. Henry. Unless we’re talking Seattle ‘fine,’ in which case then I believe it.” In Seattle, fine never really meant fine at all, and MK knew, even without the knowledge of everything that actually happened, that none of them were okay. Simply ‘fine’.
“Adorable, right,” he said with an exaggerated groan. “I’m glad you like it, though.” Luke wasn’t expecting to hear Silver’s name, and he raised his eyebrows as he processed the fact that the other man had sent flowers. Oh, of course he had. “Silver sent them, huh?” The guy was a real piece of work, that was for sure. He didn’t doubt the flowers had something to do with winning Wren over, but if Silver actually thought that was going to trump years of history, well, he had another thing coming. A frown flickered across his features before he could stop it, but the grimace was short-lived. “That’s nice of him. And I’ll have you know I’m tired, not exhausted. There’s a difference,” he countered, even though that wasn’t really true. Fine had been everyone’s default state in Seattle, and it had slowly come to mean the exact opposite rather than the true definition of the word. “It hasn’t been that easy to sleep, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.” He didn’t think she was fine either, not by a long shot, and he knew asking how she was feeling would be downright pointless. “What do the doctors say about when you’ll be released and all that?”
Her eyebrows flew up at the frown, and she almost looked amused, lip curving up ever so slightly into a knowing smirk. Oh, this had to be good. “Not a fan of him, hmm?” That much was clear, of course, but maybe Luke would let something slip. Plus, it was easier to talk about asinine things like jealousy and relationship problems of her friends than harp on her condition or talk about what happened to her in that house with that sick bastard. “I understand that,” she said of not being able to sleep. Only a copious amount of sedatives had been able to help her sleep since she arrived in the hospital, and she couldn’t even imagine how she’d get a wink of sleep when she left. “Let’s be honest, we haven’t slept well in years.” It was true, at least for her. “This isn’t just that.” MK shot him a knowing look before sighing. She shrugged a little, but tiny movements still hurt, and she winced a little. “Not in the next couple days, at least. They still don’t think I’m ready.” Her fingers ran across her stomach, covered by the hospital gown, absentmindedly tracing the letters left by Alexander.
Luke decided to assume that MK’s lack of knowledge about Silver and how he felt about Wren was a good thing, since it meant that she wasn’t conflicted enough to actually discuss it with anyone. “No,” he said wryly, “and the feeling’s mutual. Some guys just can’t take a hint, you know?” Silver was far from his favorite topic of conversation, but discussing him was like a shred of normalcy despite the fact that they were in a hospital, and, yet again, the people he cared about were forced to suffer. No, sleep hadn’t come easily since the early days in Seattle, and even then he’d spent his nights doing things he needed to be awake for. Sometimes he longed for the days when school was the most he’d had to worry about, when any problem could be solved by Thomas, no matter how bad; to give him his due, the man had always been there to fix things. “You’re right,” he agreed with a sigh. “Lack of sleep isn’t exactly a new thing.” He could admit to that much, at least. The way she flinched at even the slightest movements wasn’t lost on him, but he ignored it, or at least pretended he was oblivious to what it implied. “Oh. Well, they probably just want to be sure,” he said, trying not to watch her fingers, to think of what lay beneath as a reminder of Alexander’s sadism.
She shot Luke an amused look then, assuming what he meant by Silver not taking a hint. “Ohhh,” she said with a wry smile of her own like a teenage girl who just heard the newest, juiciest gossip about the popular kids. It was kind of funny, when she stepped back, to think about Luke and Wren having normal problems like a jilted ex-lover or a man trying to toe his way into the relationship. Stark contrast to what usually happened between the two, of course, and something MK thought would be weirdly healthy for them. Something normal for them to combat, and not someone like Jude or Briggs or Alexander. “You’ve got it in the bag, Luke, don’t worry.” She raised an eyebrow and shot him a look like she was professing the truth. “I’ve got some leverage, or I’d like to think I do, and I’m totally team Luke.” MK reached forward and squeezed his wrist, causing another sharp pain to radiate through her body; she pursed her lips and closed her eyes for a moment to cover it up. “Sleep’s overrated anyway,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “So that’s clearly not the problem.” A frown crawled across her lips. “Yeah, probably. They have to do another skin--y’know, you probably don’t want to know about all that stuff.” She gave another dismissive wave of her hand, not wanting to burden Luke with the knowledge of what exactly happened to her.
Luke wasn’t worried about Silver, exactly, but he was jealous, as he would have been had anyone expressed an interest in Wren. The other man’s obvious dislike for him and their relationship didn’t help, and he did have fears of losing her, even if he would never admit to them. He gave a sheepish smile and a sort of half-shrug when MK smiled, obviously understanding the situation without him needing to elaborate. “Yeah, I know. He just gets on my nerves, that’s all.” An understatement, but he’d never been very good with being judged by others, and that probably had something to do with it. “Team Luke, huh? Thanks for the vote of confidence. Having you on my side is a definite bonus.” Not that he had anything to worry about, no, of course not. Still, it was nice to know that his friends thought they were still good for each other, regardless of what Silver thought. He smiled when she squeezed his wrist, though it flickered when she closed her eyes. Another skin-- couldn’t lead anywhere good, and really, he didn’t want to know, and he wasn’t sure that talking about it would make things any better. Still, he could at least leave that door open if she did want to. “No. I mean, I-- you can tell me about it, if you want to.” Nothing could be worse than what he imagined, after all. He’d seen a lot since Seattle, and he knew the sorts of things people like Alexander did. It was only harder now because MK was someone he knew, someone he cared about, rather than a stranger.
“Yeah, Team Luke. I’m getting shirts made up, and I’ll tell you when the club meetings are.” Through all the years and drama, MK knew that Luke and Wren were made for each other. They were the ones that actually gave her hope that she could have something similar. Someone whose world revolved around her. Even the vigilante she loved with all of her heart back in Seattle, he had other important things, too. Keeping the people of Seattle safe, for the most part. He loved her, of course, but he had obligations. With Wren and Luke, they were the most important things in the world for each other. She looked away though at her slip, eyes drifting from Luke to the IVs snaking away from her arms, to the raised bumps at the edge of her bed hinting at the casts on her ankles. “Nah, it’s just...” she trailed off for a moment with a tiny, pathetic shrug. Casting him a sideway glance, she pursed her lips. “Plastic surgery. No big deal. They’re trying to make sure there aren’t any scars on my stomach where he...well, he used a scalpel to carve his name into his stomach.”
After she said it, she immediately regretted it and shot him an apologetic look, big green eyes watery with pain and regret. MK didn’t know what Wren had told him or what he’d seen on the jet, but that was different than hearing it now, she was sure. “Sorry,” she apologized, shifting uncomfortably and biting down on her lip from the searing pain in her side. “Gus...how is he? Besides beautiful, of course.” The little boy seemed like a safe topic of conversation, far safer than the previous one.
Somehow, despite everything that had occurred, the prospect of Team Luke shirts still managed to coax out a small laugh. He wished petty jealousy was the worst of their problems, and not for the first time he wondered how it felt to be normal, where kidnapping and torture were things that happened on television, not in reality. “You’re the best. Silver won’t stand a chance against the power of Team Luke.” All insecurity aside, he didn’t actually believe Wren would leave him for the other man. They’d been together too long and experienced too much together to let one person get between them, no matter how annoyingly persistent he was. Maybe what they had would be considered unhealthy by normal standards, but it was nonetheless strong, and if it could handle terrible, unspeakable things, then it could handle one man. His smile faltered, however, when she mentioned plastic surgery, and he barely had enough time to brace himself for what came next. He tipped his head to the side, struggling to mask his expression behind a distant sort of calm, but he couldn’t stop imagining Alexander carving each letter into her stomach and the enjoyment he must have gleaned from it, and it was very, very difficult to regret what he’d done when he knew MK might bear the reminder of that man on her forever. He deserved far worse than a bullet to the head.
“No,” he managed after a pause. “Don’t apologize. It’s-- I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner.” Luke was sorry for more, like not getting rid of Alexander from the start, before any of this could get so far, but it was too late to turn back the clock. “Doctors can do wonders these days. I’m... sure there won’t be any scars at all.” But the memory would always be there, even if she couldn’t see them. He knew that. It took him a few seconds to properly process that the topic of conversation had changed, but it was much easier to talk about Gus than it was what Alexander had done. “Oh, he’s... good. Upset that I left, and he follows me around like a little shadow, but he’s getting better,” he admitted with a smile, though it was tinged with something sad. All he wanted for his son was a normal, happy upbringing, and so far he’d been failing miserably at providing one.
She shook her head quickly, a sad smile on her face. “No, I shouldn’t have said--I told you that you didn’t want to know. It’s...hard to hear about this kinda stuff.” MK frowned again, looking down at her lap instead of back at Luke. Luke, who MK always believed was so good, who was always burdened with the problems of the people around him. “It’s not your fault, Luke. It isn’t. It’s not Wren’s either, whatever she thinks. If anything it’s mine. I shouldn’t have just fucking...ran to some guy after Adam dumped me. It’s my fault.” And that was a lick of the guilt and fear and twisted responsibility in her voice, something that she pushed down when Luke spoke of Gus. She looked up at him then, a wibbling smile, and glassiness in her eyes. “I’m happy he’s getting better, at least. He’s a good kid. Smart as hell, from what I’ve heard.” She offered him another smile, this one a little warmer. Gus, after everything he’d been through, deserved a good life, and Wren and Luke could provide that for him. She was sure of it. “When I’m all better, I’m taking my chance to spoil the shit out of him, like fake aunts are supposed to do.”
“It is hard, MK, but I’ve been hearing about it for years.” Maybe it was a little blunt, but it was also the sad truth. Luke knew a great deal of things he wished he didn’t, and he’d seen things he would never forget, no matter how much he might like to. He couldn’t hide from what Alex had done to his friend, even if it hurt like things he hadn’t felt in years. “If it helps you to talk about it, I’ll listen, and if not, you don’t have to say anything,” he told her. In simple terms, he just wanted to help, even if he had no idea how. He’d never seen any of their problems as a burden, even if he had borne the weight of issues not his own for so long, and he wasn’t good, not really, even if he knew MK had no way of knowing that. Wren knowing the truth was bad enough, and Simon having hints, but MK-- no, not her. She couldn’t know. Too many people were going to be looking at him differently already. “Listen to me, MK. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for this, and you didn’t deserve what Alex did to you. If we’re going to blame someone, then blame him. He did this.” It was easier to convince someone else of their lack of blame rather than believe it himself, and Luke didn’t believe for a minute that MK was justified in taking responsibility. She had every right to react to Adam’s rejection however she wanted, without having to worry that a psychopath was masquerading as someone who could be a friend. He let out a long sigh, trying to calm himself down enough to focus on the topic of Gus, and he nodded when she said she’d heard he was smart. “Yeah, he is. He doesn’t miss much,” he admitted. “If anyone can spoil him, it’d be you. He’d like that.”
A lot of people had told her it wasn’t her fault -- Simon, Wren, Adam, and now Luke -- but MK still had trouble believing it. Why, then, did these things keep happening to her? If it was just fate, then fate was pretty fucked up, she decided. Really fucked up. Either way, it occurred to her that the world was a little twisted to let these things happen again and again whether she did something wrong or not. So, she shrugged and still looked guilty, as if the weight of everything that happened pressed against her shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” MK responded, waving her hand dismissively. It was hard to trick herself into believing that she had no blame when she was the one who ran into Alex’s arms, and she was the one who drove Adam to break up with her, and she was the one in the hospital bruised and battered and broken. Twisted, really, but it was all she could wrap her mind around. That she was person with the blame. Gus was an easier topic, and she smiled widely at the prospect of stealing the boy for the day and spoiling him. “He’ll be a nightmare when I bring him back, Luke. All sugared up and with tons of toys and bouncing off the walls. I hope you’re ready,” she continued. Watching Luke for a moment, she picked up on his hesitation and regret regarding his son. “I know things seem hard for him now, but I know he’s gonna have a good life with you guys. Kids bounce back from the craziest shit, and you got him away from those guys before they did anything really terrible. He’ll be fine. More than fine. Happy.”
Luke wasn’t exactly a stellar example of someone who was capable of recognizing where blame rightfully belonged, and he knew they were both aware of that. He’d blamed himself for everything back in Seattle, and not much had changed since then, but he was trying not to shoulder all the weight of unnecessary guilt these days. It was an uphill battle, but he looked at people like Wren and MK, who blamed themselves for things they shouldn’t, and he wanted nothing more than to make them realize it wasn’t their fault. It would have been hypocritical to do that and continue on with the self-blame at the same time. “I mean it,” he insisted. “And you know how stubborn I can be, MK.” Still, he relented and shifted to the topic of Gus, deciding he’d pushed enough for one visit. “I’ll try to prepare myself as best I can,” he said dryly, but his expression changed a moment later, becoming almost sad. “Honestly, I think something like that would be good for him. He’s usually so quiet, you know? I mean, he’s getting better, but... I just hate that he spent the first four years of his life with those people.” He couldn’t even refer to the Johnsons by name, and he would have very much liked to pretend they never existed. “You’re right, though,” he said a moment later. “It could’ve been worse. He’s still young, and hopefully the good memories will outweigh the bad. My childhood was pretty good, even if everything went to hell afterward. That’s what I want for him, minus the hell part.”
MK sighed, but let the conversation about who was to actually blame drop. She didn’t have the energy in her to argue or nitpick about that, and both she and Luke knew each of them would blame themselves a little. That was what they all did, ever since Seattle. Irrationally take credit for the awful things, even if it was utterly out of their control. And so, she ignored him and his insistence, instead shaking her head with a sad smile. “I know, Luke, but none of us could control it. He’s out of there now, and that’s what’s most important.” She reached forward and took his hand in hers and squeezed reassuringly. “I know from experience. He’s not stuck in a house like that. He’ll be really, really happy. And, if not, I’ll buy him tons and tons of things until he gets distracted enough not to care.” It was a joke, really, because she had all the faith in the world that Wren and Luke could make little Gus the happiest boy alive. Releasing his hand, she sat back and offered him another, warmer smile. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. We’ll all make sure he’s got the best childhood a kid can have.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but the anger he’d held towards Wren had long since cooled, and Luke didn’t have it in him to blame her, not even in the slightest, despite the fact that things might have been very different if she hadn’t taken off, if she’d just talked to him. “Yeah. Yeah, he is,” he sighed. The reassuring squeeze to his hand was almost like a change of pace, since he’d been so accustomed to being the one who gave comfort rather than receiving it, and he looked down for a moment before offering a grateful smile. “You buying him an outrageous amount of stuff will be our backup plan, then. But you’re right. I know you are. Things are getting better with me and Wren-- I mean, aside from all this Alexander bullshit. I think we might actually be okay in the end, and we’ll make sure Gus is happy.” There was something about her use of we that hit him hard, a reminder that he wasn’t alone, and after spending five years largely isolated from the world it was something he never thought he’d have again, this kind of support system. He leaned back against the chair and nodded, trying to fight the rising lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he echoed. “We will.”