InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'm a comfortador."

Max Jordan | Mr. Hyde (tooth_breaker) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-06-13 19:09:00

Entry tags:

cinderella, mr. hyde

Who: Hannah and Max
What: Reunion and long overdue asskicking
Where: The lobby
When: Tonight at 10 o'clock
Warnings: Hannah is going to be so badass awesome that it might blind you. Proceed with caution. EDIT Max is also swearing a lot in his narration.

Man, this place was boring. He had been expecting some kind of explosion of zany fun from everything people said on the forums, but no. No, of course not. Because all the cool things happened online, and Max couldn't touch that damn forum. Not without Brian figuring it out, and that just couldn't happen. So he was stuck coming out at night, crawling around New York City and trying to find ways to entertain himself. And it was hard. He couldn't wear out his welcome with Vlad so soon, so he couldn't bother him every single night. But meeting up with him had reminded Max how boring life was without friends.

So that's how he ended up in the lobby of Bellum, randomly poking at people's mailboxes. He had already opened Brian's and found the mail inside. It was boring. He decided to look at the three letters and stuff one in his pocket while leaving the other two in the mail box. Maybe eventually Brian would find the third wadded up in the pocket of his jeans, but maybe not. Who knew? Max certainly didn't.

He was trying to get other mail boxes open, jiggling the hinges with a screw driver. Nothing was working. And he was still bored. With a sigh, he stuffed the screw driver in his pocket and leaned against the wall of mail boxes, pouting. Man, he wanted something to do. If only something could come along and just...make things exciting again.

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noglass_slipper
2010-06-13 11:45 pm UTC (link)

Hannah was usually back in the building before dark, because she knew a girl with nothing but a can of mace as a weapon didn't pose much of a threat to the sorts of people that lurked on the shadowed streets. But the shelter was overcrowded and understaffed, so she'd volunteered to stay later tonight in attempt to make headway on what needed to be done. By the time she could leave without feeling guilty it was nearing ten o-clock, and instead of taking a cab she decided walking would be faster.

She was yawning by the time she reached the building, contemplating whether or not she should risk the elevator in hopes of it taking her to the right floor. At first she didn't think much of the figure by the mailboxes, assuming it was someone making a late trip to collect their mail, and she only spared him the briefest of glances as she headed towards the elevator.

Three steps was all it took for a shred of recognition to hit her, and she turned sharply to the man who was now leaning against the wall. For a series of agonizing moments she couldn't do anything but stare, her mind torn between denial and outrage. It couldn't be who she thought it was... there was no possible way he could be here. After all this time, it just wasn't right. What the hell was wrong with this place, and why did it always seem to be intent on bringing the past out where it didn't belong? Hannah knew she still had a chance to turn and walk away, but anger was beginning to overtake her shock and it demanded that she not back down.

Which was why she took a step towards him instead of away from him, her surprised expression melting into a frown. "Why-- What the hell are you doing here?"

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tooth_breaker
2010-06-13 11:52 pm UTC (link)

When the door opened, Max casually slid away from the mailbox he was trying to pry open, crossing his arms and looking casual. Oh yeah, this was normal. Ten o'clock at night, standing by the mailboxes, hanging out. This was what he liked to do, of course! He watched the girl pass, noticing something familiar about her face but dismissing it. Pretty blonde girls all looked alike, really. There was just something about them that was always on the same level.

But then that pretty little thing didn't pass. No. She stopped, and turned, and looked at him with the sort of expression that almost made him laugh. Was she angry with him? Who was this bitch? He raised a brow, head canting to the side as she stared at him for a moment, expression shifting until it settled into a frown.

Then it hit him.

She looked different now. Healthier. She was less desperate, her skin brighter, and her eyes free of those hollow circles. Her limbs were thicker - in a good way - and she didn't look as if she were going to die at any second. But he recognized her despite all that.

His mind took him back to that night, the sensation of his foot in her gut and his fist in her hair. It took him back in the flash of a second and he couldn't help the nervous smile on his face. Oh, did she look pissed. So he had to play it casual. He had to get the hell out of there before she called the police or something, because he knew that Brian would not be able to handle prison.

"Me?" he asked with a laugh, putting a hand on his chest. "I, uh." He looked to the door. If he ran, he could probably get there first and catch a cab to a hotel. He had Brian's wallet. "I'm just. Getting the mail!" He pointed at the mail boxes, grinning. "Yep, that's just. That's all I'm doing. What about you? What are you...doing here? You look great! By the way." He laughed nervously, playing with the collar of his shirt. This was bad.

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noglass_slipper
2010-06-14 12:10 am UTC (link)

She could count the number of times she'd lost her temper on one hand, and it really did take a lot to push her over the edge - then again, having the shit beaten out of you by someone you thought was a friend did constitute as 'a lot'. The more she looked at him the angrier she became, and once he started talking the sound of his voice didn't do much to help her calm down either. Hannah folded her arms across her chest, disgusted that Max didn't even have the human decency to recognize her as quickly as she'd recognized him. How could he forget, unless he made a habit of beating up women?

"I live here - just like you do, apparently." Hannah didn't remember seeing his name on the forums, but then again he might have given a fake one. Maybe he'd given her a fake one, for all she knew. Really, what were the chances of him moving to the same damn building? The compliment just made her scowl, and she began to approach him with a false sense of ease that masked her desire to smack that grin right off his face. "'You look great'? Seriously? That's the best you can come up with? You really are an asshole." Her gaze was contemptuous as she studied him, shaking her head. "So, beaten up any women lately?"

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tooth_breaker
2010-06-14 01:04 am UTC (link)

Fuck shit fuck shit. Curse words paraded through his mind as the girl approached, her face contorted with contempt for him. He started to take a step back, realizing that his back was to the mail boxes, and all he could do was press himself back against them as she stood before him, growling and snarling. It was like staring a lioness in the face, and though she was definitely smaller than he was, she had a ferocity about her that made him nervous. In nature, the animal with the most to lose always fought the hardest, but sometimes having nothing to lose made you just as dangerous. The last time they had met, she had had absolutely nothing going for her. Now? He didn't know.

"Hey, that is a sincere compliment!" he said, pointing a finger at her before realizing that pointing was bad. So instead he pulled his hand back, once again messing with the collar of his shirt. "A-and no, actually, I haven't. You were my one and only." He realized that saying that? Was not so smart. Eyes wide, he extended a hand again, palm open to her. "Not that I mean - what I meant was." Hell, it hadn't even been truthful. He had hit Gloria. But not as savagely as this one. This little blonde, broken princess. He had done a number on her. The way she knit herself back together was almost glorious.

Gulping, he looked to the door. "Well, uh. I can see that this is a. Difficult. Place. I'm just gonna leave you to whatever it was you were doing, have a nice night!" With that, he turned to walk towards the door, hoping that she wouldn't bother pursuing him.

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noglass_slipper
2010-06-14 01:39 am UTC (link)

The role reversal was almost funny, but the last thing Hannah felt like doing was laughing. As if it wasn't bad enough that he lived in the same building, there wasn't a hint of guilt anywhere in his expression. It still stung, his indifference, even though it really wasn't much of a surprise. Any apology he offered now would be meaningless, and she didn't want a bunch of pretty empty words - she'd had enough of those to last her a lifetime. "Oh, well then. That just makes it so much better, that I was the only one." Her voice was practically dripping with sarcasm. "I'm flattered, honest."

She hadn't even started trying to vocalize all the thoughts swirling around in her head, so letting him just walk away - again - was not an option. Hannah was sick and tired of being weak and useless; always ignored, never taken seriously. Well, not anymore. Her eyes flashed when he turned, and she practically lunged forward to keep him from taking more than one step. "Oh, I don't think so." She didn't have his size or strength, but her fury made up for a lot, and she shoved him towards the mailboxes with every ounce of might she possessed. "We're not done here, got it?" There was no room for fear, not in the midst of all the other emotions tearing through her. She wasn't afraid of pain anyway, not really. "You and I have some catching up to do."

For a moment she just glared at him, trying to decide whether she should just give him a good whack or ask him what she wanted and then hit him. "Let's start with why." Her voice began to rise, but she didn't care if anyone ended up hearing her. "I want to hear you try to explain why you decided to nearly kill me."

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tooth_breaker
2010-06-14 01:57 am UTC (link)

And this was why he never left them alive. She had been a mistake. A miscalculation. He let the moment get away from him, he let it consume him, and now he was paying for it. For a moment, he wondered if he could just knock her out. He was definitely bigger than she was, and he could just say she had had too much to drink as he dragged her up to Vlad's. Vlad would point him to the cemetery he had mentioned the other week, and then they'd bury her. Problem solved. No more angry blonde girl.

Except he wasn't counting on something. Max wasn't counting on the ability of a tiny little woman being absolutely terrifying when she was mad. He knew that he could've pushed her away. He could've knocked her out if he wanted to, but the way she shoved him into the mailboxes and bore down on him, eyes alight with rage, paralyzed him. It was like looking into the face of God, only God was a woman and she was on her period.

As pathetic as it was, he felt himself squirming, pressing back against the mailboxes as she cornered him. "Yes, ma'am," he squeaked as she said they had catching up to do. He didn't think they did, but if it meant so much to her, maybe he'd indulge her. A little. Then run when she wasn't looking. Yes, that was the manly thing to do.

At her question, he cringed. He didn't even know the answer. So that's how he'd answer it. "I don't know why," he mumbled, looking down at her shoes. He paused, looking up into her scary face with a whine. "It just happened. One minute we were talking, and then all of a sudden I thought your face would look better with my fist in it."

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noglass_slipper
2010-06-14 04:12 am UTC (link)

She felt a surge of triumph beneath her fury, almost proud of the fact that she was holding her own against someone who could have easily overpowered her if he wanted to. When Max had known her she'd been weak and vulnerable, pathetically willing to cling to the first person who offered even a shred of kindness. But things had changed, and he was the pathetic one now, cringing against the mailboxes like the coward he was.

Hannah was so surprised at the childish idiocy of his answer that she actually laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound, though, and suddenly she thought that what would really look better at the moment was her fist in his face. She wasn't an expert by any means, but those self-defense lessons with Luther coupled with some helpful Youtube videos meant she knew a thing or two about throwing a punch. Luckily he wasn't moving, nor was he expecting it, so he had the advantage there.

"Yeah?" She tilted her head to the side, beginning to back away as though she was giving him room to leave. "Funny how those things work." In a matter of seconds her fist was heading straight for his face, fueled by a bitter fury unlike anything she'd ever felt before.

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tooth_breaker
2010-06-14 04:20 am UTC (link)

When she backed up, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she had finally seen reason. Maybe she would just leave him alone, and he could get the hell out of there while she was feeling generous. Primarily, Max hated pain. But secondarily, he didn't want to wake up with a bruise that Brian would have to explain. The less this guy knew, the better. And right now, he needed to get the hell away from this girl before she did something stupid.

"Well, life is pretty funny, and you know-" He never got to finish his thought. There was a fist in his face preventing that.

He let out an "oof" of pain as his head snapped backwards, slamming into the mailboxes behind him. The blow landed on his left cheek, just shy of his nose, and even then he could tell that it would leave a mark. Shit. He groaned, sinking slightly as his eyes rolled up to the ceiling. This bitch was pissed, and he had to get out of there before she did more damage to Brian's body.

"Okay," he said, taking a deep breath and straightening up. "I deserved that." He took a step to the side, trying to sneak around her. "And now that you've gotten it out of your system, we can just go back to not knowing each other, okay?" Maybe she'd see reason. Maybe she'd leave it alone.

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noglass_slipper
2010-06-14 05:04 am UTC (link)

It felt good, the feel of fist meeting flesh, and she barely even noticed the pain that came with the impact. It was the first time since high school that she'd hit someone, and even then it hadn't been motivated by quite the same thing. Then it was done to prove a point, but now... now it was payback. Revenge, even - but one hit wasn't enough, not compared to what he'd done to her.

Hannah watched him with narrowed eyes, on guard just in case he decided to strike back. Oh, damn right he deserved it; that and so much more. "We can go back to not knowing each other? Don't you think I wanted to do that, you complete bastard? I tried to forget, I tried to pretend you never existed - but I remembered every time I looked in the fucking mirror!" She was yelling now, so far beyond the realm of reason and rationale. "I'm going to walk away from this and pretend I never knew you, don't worry; but first I'm going to make you remember. Bruises fade with time, like mine did, but once you look at them long enough you always see them even when they're not there."

Something inside her snapped then, and she lunged forward with the intent of leaving as many bruises behind as possible. She hit, kicked and clawed at every inch of skin she could reach, using all her energy to cause as much pain as possible. "How - does - it - feel?" she screamed between blows, her breathing becoming hitched as her anger began to simmer. That was when she remembered the mace in her back pocket, and it was with clear intent that she slipped her thumb under the cover, aimed for his eyes, and sprayed.

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tooth_breaker
2010-06-14 05:22 am UTC (link)

The more she yelled, the more Max wanted to bolt. She was distracted, she was delirious, she was enraged. If he ran fast, he could beat her to the door and disappear. But why wasn't he running? It was like his feet were glued to the spot. Was this what his victims felt like? Because if so, it sucked. No wonder they were such whiners, he didn't want to be in this situation at all!

Her words were white noise, up until she said she was going to make him remember. His eyes widened, and his heart stopped. Bruises. Oh no. Oh shit. Oh fuck. She wasn't hurting him. She was hurting Brian. He would go to sleep and forget all of this. He could deal with the knowledge and the suffering. But Brian would wake up with a swollen face and bruises on his chest, and he'd never know why. He'd be in pain, all because this bitch couldn't just walk away.

It couldn't happen. Brian couldn't suffer for this.

When she lunged, Max tried to bolt, but found himself trapped by her attack. Immediately, he covered his face. He took knees to the gut, scratches across his arms, and blows to the ears. But he protected Brian's face, kept it safe from any cuts or further bruises. Everything in him drove him to ball up, to conceal, to protect. He barely heard her screaming, only focused on the sound of her limbs crashing into him.

Finally, she seemed to subside, and he lowered his arms just slightly. He looked up at her, chest rising and falling rapidly. "Okay," he sputtered, feeling his ribs ache. "Are you done yet?" That came out meaner than he had intended. And it was the worst thing to say.

He screeched as the mace hit his eyes, flailing backwards and slamming his head into the wall. "What the fuck?" he demanded, reaching up and wiping at his eyes with his shirt. The burning was horrible, something he never could have imagined, and he had to resist the urge to dig Brian's eyes out of their sockets with his fingernails.

Beneath the pain, he hoped that this was it. That she'd had her fill, and never bother Brian. Oh god, if she saw him. Max wiped frantically at his eyes, rocking back and forth with pain and worry. "You've got me!" he shouted, slamming his head back into the wall again. "You've fucking paid me back!" Heaving a breath, he forced his eyes open through the pain, staring at her blearily. "Don't you ever fucking talk to me again."

Though he was hunched pathetically, there was an edge in his face and the sudden tension in his muscles that brought back the predatory Max that had beaten her. For a few seconds, he wasn't pathetic and hunched, but dangerous again. His voice was harder than diamond as he spoke, breath shuddering in and out of his lungs. "This. Is it. You've had your fucking revenge. If you try it again, I won't make the mistake I did last time."

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noglass_slipper
2010-06-14 05:34 am UTC (link)

Hannah backed away the moment the spray of mace hit his eyes, watching him flail and curse with a grim sort of satisfaction. She wasn't quite capable of doing the same damage he had done, but this would do. He wouldn't forget this so easily, and she'd proved that she wasn't a scared little girl anymore. They were even, in a sick kind of way, and that was just fine with her.

"Don't you dare threaten me," she snapped, moving towards the elevator even as she spoke. "You think I even want to be near you ever again? Don't flatter yourself." She found the elevator button with her left hand and pressed it, still holding the mace in the other - just in case. It was only when the elevator arrived and she was half inside that she gathered her courage and spoke again.

"But if you so much as lay a hand on anyone in this building, I'll make sure you're the next one they lock up in the basement." She refused to meet his gaze as the elevator doors slid shut, and only when it started moving did she lean against the wall to support herself, head buried in her hands.

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tooth_breaker
2010-06-14 05:45 am UTC (link)

When she finally left, Max slumped to the ground, finally letting his body collapse into a puddle of skin and pain. He could feel the bruises forming, and her threats were equally painful. After all, she wouldn't be just going after him. He was a two-for-one, and the one was innocent. This had to just go away.

After a few minutes of laying on the ground, trying to pull himself together, he finally managed to stand and lumber towards the stairs. Not daring to touch the elevator, he began to climb, hunched over with pain as he went. Every step was agony, but he finally reached the third floor and stumbled into Brian's apartment.

He tore open the freezer and made a makeshift icepack. The most important thing was the face. He swaggered over to the bed and collapsed on it, pressing the icepack to his left cheek and closing his eyes. They burned, but he had to keep this icepack on. He couldn't be bothered by washing his eyes out when the burning would just fade in a few hours. Brian would never feel it. But if he didn't keep this ice on, the bruise would be bigger, and Brian would feel that.

Max wasn't sure how long he stayed conscious. An hour? Two? His eyes still burned like hot coals when he finally fell asleep, and his last thought was clinging to the hope that this icepack could keep the swelling down.

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