Bruce Wainright has (onerule) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-05-04 00:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, poison ivy |
Who: Luke and Brielle
What: An inevitable run-in.
Where: Caesar's.
When: Around the time Wren turns herself in.
Warnings/Rating: None.
Days off were rare in Luke’s line of work. Caesar’s seemed to be perpetually short-staffed in terms of security, or perhaps they were too close to the line of having just the right amount of able-bodied guards, and if he should manage to rise above his current ranks it would mean yet another job opening for them to fill. Regardless, things seemed to be changing, since he did have the day off, and despite needing the extra money Bruce advised that he make the best of it.
Which, of course, meant that he was back at Caesar’s in the afternoon to pay Gus a visit. Usually he only dropped by nights, after work and when Wren was otherwise occupied, but he didn’t have a lot to do with his spare time. His friends, the ones he did have, were busy themselves, and everyone was under so much stress with recent events that going out to get a beer or two or just hang out seemed trivial, like something his teenage self would do. After a morning spent giving his motorcycle a new paint job, Luke had run out of tasks to keep himself occupied. Besides, there was no rule about going into one’s place of work on their day off, after all. Caesar’s was large enough that he didn’t expect to be recognized by anyone other than the regular guests and a few of the staff who actually paid attention to the fact that there were people aside from themselves working at the establishment.
Today was particularly warm, though he was still in khaki pants (brown rather than his customary black) and a dark button-up shirt which, miraculously, was not wrinkled. He was making an effort to care more about his appearance than usual. Since he was in no particular hurry to reach Wren’s villa, having a firm grasp on time for once, his pace was leisurely, and he actually had a short conversation with one of the cocktail waitresses who was just coming in for her shift. For one reason or another, he wasn’t paying full attention to his surroundings, and as the girl said goodbye with a smile that probably would have made Wren jealous (and just made him roll his eyes internally) he turned, colliding with someone who was coming in the opposite direction. Or maybe not. He couldn’t tell, not in the blur of movement that followed as he tried to sidestep and simultaneously prevent the other person from falling.
“Sorry,” he apologized, attempting to keep them upright. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”
There was a lot for Brielle to worry about these days. Being stationary(at least for the time being) brought about the usual paranoia. The burnt sienna glance over every shoulder, the getting up in the middle of the night to ensure that every door and window in Wren's suite was locked. There was no doubt in her mind that her husband hadn't forgotten about her, that there was at least one private investigator out there pawing after her scent. Not having a job made things difficult, because Brielle would only pay for items in cash. Getting a job was impossible, she didn't trust anything that could potentially flag her social security number or name across an endless network of invisible, electronic eyes. But now there were other things to contend with and worry over as well. Gunshots and chemical warfare and blackmail.
She didn't frequent the casino and bar portion of Caesar's very often. There were too many people, it set loose that running fawn instinct that took over in hunting season. But on this afternoon, it was necessary. She was on her way back from collecting a temporary cell phone, one of those boxy things with limited technology that could be paid by the minute. This was all at the instruction of the blackmail man, and the item was waiting for her at the front desk. No card, no explanation, just a post-it note with her name in bold block letters. Brielle tucked it into the camouflage discreet pocket of a dress that was all heavenly blue and white. It was modest while paying homage to the delicacy and elegance that Brielle wore like trails of perfume. Upon closer inspection though, the dress had seen better days. It needed to be re-hemmed, badly. There were a couple of runs in the silk. It seemed to have been acquired some time ago, when it would have captured a dreamier hold on subtle curves that have recently waned. Some bandaging played peek-a-boo from beneath one capped sleeve, gauze over a gunshot.
At the collision, when he grabbed her - because everything felt like a snatch, not a helping hand - Brielle staggered in a frantic jerk. There was an uncontrollable flinch, the hitch of a breath and a ping pong slam of her heart when she brought up her hands in a defensive pose that was really just surrender. Then his voice.. that Sorry. It went through her body like a jazz solo strum of what might have been the only good memory she'd ever had. Brielle's eyes, crystallized molasses, rushed up to meet him. Too stunned to say anything just yet, she simply ceased in pulling away from his helping hands. In turn, she dropped her sleek, piano fingers onto his arm. In case he needed steadying as well. "... Luke."
Luke had seen far too much to not notice the way the woman reacted to his touch, as innocent as it was, and he could derive a thousand assumptions from a simple flinch, and the way her hands rose in defense. Despite everything, the weight on his shoulders and the endless worried droning in the back of his mind, it was mere instinct to make his demeanor as non-threatening as possible. He might have apologized again, even released his hold, but then her gaze met his and a jolt of recognition shot through him. He knew those eyes, and he knew that voice. Wren had mentioned her cousin a dozen times over, so it wasn’t as much of a surprise as it might have been otherwise, but there had been no concrete confirmation until now. It was too much of a coincidence to think that this Brielle and Wren’s Brielle were two different people.
“Brielle.” It wasn’t a question, rather acknowledgement, that he remembered her as well. Complications aside, she brought back only good memories in the midst of darkness and loneliness. “Hi,” he added, belatedly, straightening as he overcame some of the surprise that had come with seeing her again. Mentioning Wren, at least right away, seemed like a bad idea, which meant that feigning ignorance might be best until she brought up her cousin first. Still, it was difficult to keep from looking her over, based on what he knew, searching for signs that the effect of the fear gas still lingered. Maybe a small part of him was looking for something else, similarities and differences from what he remembered, but that wasn’t something he was willing to admit to himself.
After realizing his silence had likely extended too long, he spoke again, belatedly loosening his hold on her arm now that she was no longer in danger of losing her balance. “I didn’t know you were in Vegas. How, uh, have you been?”
Brielle remembered to slide her hand from his arm a moment after he did. It was a touch that was far too comfortable. Perhaps it lingered too sentimental, overindulgent considering the time that had spanned between now and the last time she'd seen him. They'd parted on amicable terms, having found one another in the momentary relief that came in the cherished eye of such aching storms. He'd had his reasons, and she'd had her's, but they'd never talked about it at the time. It seemed easier just to wrap up in life raft arms before the hurt and the horror and loss devoured what was left of them. But that was some time ago now. Of course, she remembered everything about that time. He was the first man, the only one really, that she didn't associate with fear or hurt. Maybe it had been his eyes - which although pained and plagued with secrets, whispered of safety. She'd needed the comfort of letting go, or not being afraid to run, and Luke had given her that.. although he'd never know it.
She was the same, even if she was different. Dancer sleek with those large, trusting eyes. "I've been well.." Despite that out of place bandage on her arm, the sleepless shadows deep in her sockets. "I didn't know you were in Vegas either," and the admission came with a charmed, nostalgic smile that said she didn't mind this kind of surprise. Not at all.
Luke had never put a definitive label on what they’d had, and he liked it that way, not putting it in one category or another and muddling things in the process. Relationship was a little too strong; they hadn’t shared enough about themselves for that, not that either of them had ever asked. He’d liked that too. His past wasn’t something he wanted to discuss, and while he had been curious about Brielle’s, he kept that curiosity to himself. It was why Wren had never come up, or any other mention of family, and he certainly didn’t know the true depth of what he’d given her. Even if this made matters difficult, considering their ties to Wren, he couldn’t bring himself to regret this part of his past, nor could he begrudge her being here. It was a nice relief to have someone show up here who didn’t come from a part of his past he’d spent years trying to run from.
“Good. I’m glad to hear that,” he said, offering a smile that was almost hesitant in return. He knew it was a lie, of course. She hadn’t been well, but he wasn’t sure how to let her know that she knew, though he supposed the truth would come out sooner or later. They’d had no way of knowing where the other would be after they’d parted ways, of course. It was some coincidence that they’d both ended up here. “I haven’t been here too long, but it feels like it’s been a while. Things around here can get... pretty crazy,” was his careful explanation of what things had been like recently. Normally his uniform would have given him away as Caesar’s security, but he wasn’t wearing it today, and he certainly didn’t look wealthy enough to have suddenly acquired enough money to be living on the premises.
They'd never needed a label for what they had.. if it would even be considered having something. Just a connection, maybe. Something unspoken, but needed. There was never any planning ahead or dates or sharing of secrets. Just the locking of eyes, and mouths, and arms in the dark. That was the first time in years that Brielle slept, really slept. No nightmares, because her nightmares were always too real. Too tangible. These days she woke up repeatedly, she paced Wren's suite for signs of reality.. something to disconnect her from the dream. But back then, with Luke, she'd slept solid.
Brielle wanted to touch his arm again, but realized that was probably out of place after all of this time. Instead, she twisted some fingers into the elegant fabric of her dress and offered him a slow-to-rise smile. It was a real smile, not the kind that she put on the distract the scent of worry. It was a smile that all warmth upon seeing him again, no matter the strange timing. "I can imagine. Things here can be.. crazy at times." The fear gassing incident had been a nightmare, but Ivy took care of her upon crossing through the door. Brielle knew that some of the girls still had lingering issues with the gas, but Ivy's toxin immunity took all of that away once Brielle came back to this side. Of course, she'd gained a gunshot, so it was difficult to place anything in a column of positives. "But that's Vegas, I guess." Brielle paused, looking up at him. Spring-flecked eyes of honey beneath a stray lock of dark hair that had fallen across her brow unnoticed. "What brings you all the way out here?" They'd met halfway across the country, after all.
Very few people had ever smiled at him like Brielle did, not in recent memory, and he almost felt undeserving of it. He knew he needed to be careful, because Wren had unexpectedly come back into his life, and despite his reassurances she still doubted his loyalty; this might not help matters. “Yeah,” he agreed, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, a nervous gesture from his youth that he’d never quite dropped. “I guess people don’t really come to Vegas looking for normalcy, do they? Not unless you’re out in the suburbs, far from here.” Despite the bright lights and flashy signs, the heart of the city was far from the pretty dream he was sure lured a lot of people here with false expectations. Excitement, sure, and danger, but not nice, safe normalcy. He’d known what he was getting into when he came, although the arrival of a comic book character had been unexpected. Luke shrugged at her question, which was an answer in itself, but he elaborated a few seconds later. “Work, mostly, and a little bit of chance. I decided to try staying in one place for a while. I work here, actually, in security,” he added. He had no idea if Wren had mentioned him, but he was going off the assumption that she hadn’t. “What about you?”
She watched him with all attention, rapt interest. It was the look that someone gave another they cared about, wanting to know what they had to say. Luke looked better than she remembered, not just physically.. although that way there too, but steadier. Brielle could sense something apprehensive in the corners of his eyes, maybe it was worry.. but it wasn't the hurt and anger that he'd had when she first met him. It wasn't the racing, slapdash pace of escape from pain, and hurt that he heaved with when he'd collided with her. She was glad for that, whatever had plagued him.. he'd moved on from it, it seemed, and her simper bordered on proud. A press of lips that went tight, afraid to relax for even a moment because they would betray a shiver of sentiment. He looked happy, she thought. Nervous, for some reason, but happy. When the conversation turned onto the subject of herself, Brielle visibly stiffened. She tried to amend such scaredy cat movements into something more regaling, but it was surprise in spades. She was a horrible liar, and a thousand things(experiences, memories, reasons) did a kaleidoscope spin in her garden bed eyes before she drew a laughing breath and shrugged. She didn't mention being on the run, she'd already made that accidental mistake with Jack. "I came to see my cousin.. haven't seen her in a years." She tongued her lip, regretting that she hadn't thought to put on any make up this morning. "She lives here, I just.." Needed a place to hide for a moment? ".. wanted to see her, since I was passing through."
Luke probably would have laughed if someone were to tell him that he looked happy, but there was a definite difference between now and then, when Brielle had met him. He’d still been in the midst of running then, caught in his own pain, anger at the past and himself and those around him eating him alive, and he hadn’t known how to hide it then. Being alone meant that he had nothing, and he became something he never, ever wanted to go back to. Now, despite Alexander and the looming custody battle for Gus, he was no longer alone. He had Roger, and Wren, and actual friends, and Bruce gave him a sense of purpose he’d previously lacked. Oh, he was far from being whole, and perhaps he’d never be put back together properly, but things had changed. Without a real understanding of Brielle’s past, he couldn’t be sure if things had improved for her as well, but having family here had to be good for her, despite the bandage that peeked out from her sleeve and a sort of look in her eyes that made him concerned in a way he likely shouldn’t have been.
That concern only solidified into something more tangible in the face of her reaction to his question. It reminded him of the way he used to react when people would ask about him, though he had been more defensive, like a wild dog baring its teeth. “Oh,” he said, with a careful smile, as he tried to decide whether it was best to leave things be or get everything out in the open. “Your cousin... is her name Wren?”
"Yeah," she smiled up at Luke in confirmation. All warmth and trust. Toasted marshmallow sentiment. And it was there, in her honeycomb eyes, she still wanted him. She still wanted the safe memory of warm, motel nights. She yearned to feel safe, to feel okay. Mostly okay, really. Like she didn't have to flinch or wince or choke on a beg every single time somebody turned against her. "Yeah, Wren," she repeated before she really realized that the tone of his question was too much of a long shot. Why would he know that? With anyone else there would have been an instant retreat and an backpeddle of fear, but with Luke there was something closer to disbelief. She didn't step back from him, she wanted to know. "...Why?" Brown eyes so big, aching for an answer.
She shouldn’t have been looking at him like that, but amidst all his other problems Luke had a hero complex a mile wide, perhaps his one tragic flaw, which made him want to save everyone who needed it. Even time and the bitterness, the anger, all that pain wrapped up hadn’t been enough to eradicate it. With people he knew, the urge was even stronger, and he knew if Brielle needed help in any way he’d do what he could to give it to her. That in itself was harmless, since he would do no less for MK or the other women he called friends, but with their history Wren might take it the wrong way, and he didn’t want that to happen. Which was why he knew, when Brielle asked why, that he had to be honest. If he told her that he and Wren were just friends, or played it off vaguely, it would get back to her, and she would doubt him. He’d made that mistake with Roger, and he wouldn’t make it again, even if a part of him hesitated at the prospect of telling her. “Wren and I know each other,” he admitted, watching her reaction with a faint sense of apprehension. “We met when we were teenagers, and now... we’re together. She’s mentioned her cousin a few times, but I didn’t know it was you.” That much was true. He hadn’t been absolutely, beyond a doubt sure until right now.
"Oh.." It was all she could say, really. Luke and herself had never been serious, not by a longshot.. but the news twisted a wrench inside of Brielle. Maybe it was betrayal, something from all sides hitting at each and every one involved(or maybe that was Ivy).. but she didn't know how to react to it. She fumbled, lip caught in teeth and eyebrows twitching high. Arms tight around herself as she consciously took a step away from Luke. It didn't hurt, not the way it would have if they'd ever truly been together once upon a time.. but it did cast loose a strange hook of rust and almost. "You're in love?" The question wasn't pained, but rather marked with fairy tale lilt. If they were in love, she could swallow it better.
He wasn’t expecting her to smile and congratulate him, of course, but in all honesty Luke was caught somewhere between thinking it might not be so bad and fearing she would react terribly. They’d never been in a clear, definitive relationship, but they had shared something, and she and Wren were cousins. Neither of them had known about their shared connection at the same, which seemed futile to point out now. He forced himself to remain still when she stepped back, understanding why she might need the distance, and he gave a hesitant smile in response to her question. “Yeah,” he said, with an almost shy sort of laugh. “We were together before, but things happened, and... well, a lot of time passed. Then, somehow, we both ended up here, and we’re giving it another shot.” He thought of telling her that didn’t mean he wasn’t glad she was here, or that he no longer cared at all, but he said neither and kept quiet instead.
"That's good," Brielle confided with a smile that meant it. Wren needed to love and be loved in return. She glanced briefly to the stairs, thinking of ascending, but then realizing that such a destination was likely Luke's as well. "I'm happy for you.." For some reason, the words ran damp. That's what happened when irrational emotion tried to invade for no reason at all. It was with a laugh(nearly a choke) that she backtracked toward the slot machines. "You look happy.. it looks good on you." The honeycomb speckled citrus of her eyes betrayed no loss, and her subtle mouth was a half-bitten smile when she took yet another step back. Afraid to be close to him, but for a whole separate reason than she feared proximity to all the other men. She would still like to touch him.. so very much. Something occurred to her then, and it flashed green lightning in the wheat harvest of her eyes. "Wren.. doesn't know." Why would she?
There was something pained in his expression, maybe even regretful if one looked hard enough, but it was only visible for a second before it vanished, tucked away swiftly as Luke had taught himself to do years ago. He thought he might understand how she felt, because if the tables were turned and he was the one who was alone, with no Wren in the picture, and Brielle had been the one to find love, he wouldn’t be able to scrounge up a lot of genuine happiness either. Still, he did want her to be happy, whether she needed someone else for that or not, but he didn’t know how to say it. “Thanks,” he said, almost uncertain, watching as she continued her retreat. “I guess... I guess I am happy. Happier than before, at least.” He was torn between letting her leave and stopping her, which he probably shouldn’t have done, when she spoke again, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “No, she doesn’t. What happened when we were apart is my business, and I didn’t know that... you were her cousin.” There was something defensive in his tone; he had a right to be with whoever he wanted to, considering Wren had been the one to leave him, and then was not now. “You can tell her if you want,” he continued, because he wasn’t going to force Brielle into keeping secrets if she didn’t want to, “but it is good to see you again, and if you need anything... you can still come to me.” Maybe he shouldn’t have made that kind of offer, but what the hell, there it was anyway.
Her retreat was a brief thing, gaining a few paces between them because it made Brielle feel more like this was just some run-in with an old friend, not a lover. She noted the defensive turn of his tongue when he spoke of the break-up or separation, whatever it was. That's when their stars had aligned, brief as it was. "I.." There was a wince of uncertainty when Luke told Brielle that she could tell Wren if she wanted. She wasn't entirely convinced that such a conversation would go over well. Sometimes Brielle got the feeling that Wren didn't trust her, not like she trusted the other girls in the suite. Sure, Wren didn't suspect Brielle to be malicious or anything, but.. they hardly knew one another, all things concerned. What if Wren kicked her out? "It would upset her, wouldn't it?" Brielle advanced a sandaled step back toward him, realizing this conversation was too intimate for distance. "Would it hurt Wren to know?" Brielle looked up at him, all trust and nostalgia in her eyes.
Luke’s uncertainly became more apparent, written in his expression rather than hidden in subtle nuances and gestures from years long since past. Yes, it would upset her, but if they kept it a secret and she found out later, under likely undesirable circumstances, she would be even more upset. Then, it would seem as though they had something to hide. Which, of course, they didn’t. Their time together was in the past. “I think it will,” he admitted. “Even if we tell her that it was a while ago, and there’s nothing between us now, she still might doubt it. The problem is, if we keep it from her and she finds out later, she’s going to be upset then too.” They were caught between a rock and a hard place, was basically what he was saying. In this, he wasn’t sure what was right, and he looked down at her with a helpless shrug. “What do you think we should do?” Because this involved her as well as him, and it was her secret too.
"I don't know," Brielle admitted helplessly. "I don't want to hurt her," this came as a quick addendum, that was the last thing she wanted. And if Luke loved Wren, she believed he did(which made her ache with guilt all the more), then he wouldn't want to hurt Wren either. "She doesn't have to know we ran into each other.. we might never even see each other again.." The fear gassing incident and the blackmail from Alex made her hungry for another place to stay, as soon as she could scrounge the money to afford it. "It doesn't have to come up because.." Her attention pinned him, a smile recalling their time together so long ago. "There's nothing between us." Her voice was steady, unwounded. Luke had never felt for her the way he felt for Wren, that much was obvious when he said her cousin's name. That was love.
There was something like a faint, tiny alarm well deep inside that told him keeping this from Wren would only come back to haunt him later, but she had so much to deal with right now between Alexander and Gus that he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about having been previously involved with her cousin. Luke knew she might pretend to take it in stride, but he doubted that she would be able to accept it so easily in reality, and he didn’t want her doubting him. Not now, when there was no reason to do so, even if he doubted that he and Brielle might never cross paths again. She lived in the villa, didn’t she? And after the fear gas, knowing what he did, he didn’t think he’d simply be able to forget about her. “Okay,” he said finally, settling on agreement. “She doesn’t have to know. I think it’s best that way.” He searched her smile for signs that it was feigned, or that this admission somehow hurt her, but he found none. All he’d have to do was remind himself that he couldn’t be everyone’s hero, no matter how much he thought they might need it. Besides, as his past actions made abundantly clear, he wasn’t a hero. “She worries about you a lot,” he added, even if it was unnecessary to point out. “Take care of yourself? You deserve to be happy too.”
Brielle's lament was quick to rise, and she pressed pale fingers against an unglossed mouth while trying to think things through. Wren should know, but would it hurt her? "If you think it's best, maybe we can tell her together, I just.." Brielle's eyes had a way of wrenching into the heart, jerking on the very cords of humanity in a way that begged to be cared for, begged to be helped. Give her the answers, if only to this. She watched Luke for that beat of silence, the same witchy hazel eyes that had stared up at him on lonely motel nights. Then, just behind his head, the local news blazed in silence on some ceiling-mounted television. "Oh God.." Wren Maheu.. kidnapping..
Oh, God. Luke began to realize the depth of trouble he was in as Brielle gazed up at him, even though the desire to help and love were two very distinct, separate feelings. Despite their shared past, he’d never felt for her what he felt for Wren, but he couldn’t bring himself to not care. He wasn’t that cruel, wasn’t that callous. “Together might work,” he began hesitantly, but when she was staring at something behind his head, and he was turning to look at the television that droned words dripping with familiarity. Wren Maheu. Kidnapping. Shit, he thought, his expression one of grim dismay rather than surprise. He’d known this was coming, and he knew the police would be looking for him soon, with DNA claims and questions galore. “I have to go,” he said, unnecessarily, considering the news being broadcasted before them. “We’ll talk later?”
Brielle nodded in hurried silence, mouth dry with worry and therefore wordless. She imagined that he would be heading for the station or in search of a lawyer or something. Brielle, admittedly, didn't know very much about the law.. only that it'd never done anything to help her when she'd needed it. Of course, when your abusive husband was one of the top donators to the NYPD, who was going to turn an accusatory eye against him? Brielle went for the elevator, thinking maybe she could seek out Jack, maybe he'd know what to do.