Ariadne (building_dreams) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-10-07 10:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | ariadne, arthur, eames |
WHO Bianca, Cory, and Joseph
WHAT Lunch
WHEN Recently
WHERE A Pizzeria at The Venetian
WARNINGS None!
Bianca was technically supposed to be in class, but Cory was more important. She didn't miss class as a general rule, but she didn't think she had much of a choice. Canceling on Mr Shay was out of the question and so was asking Cory to wait until Friday. Arthur had stepped way over the line, Ariadne apparently hadn't told them just how not okay it was to manhandle Cory, and Basilio was on the very top of her shit list. She had half a mind to yell at Eames too, but even she could recognize that it was probably too much. Part of the issue was that focusing all of her concern on Cory made her focus on herself less and she was prone to overcompensating because she didn’t want to think about herself that much. It was just easier, in her mind, even though it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Her priority right now was to make sure that Cory was no worse for wear and she was fairly certain she’d offer to have him move in if he wanted. Living with his parents had to just make everything worse, dealing with the idiots through the door. Dressed casually in tailored cream pants, an emerald jewel toned blouse, white heels, and a tan bag, she looked more like a businesswoman than a college student as she walked through the Venetian toward where the food court was. The pizzeria was easy enough to find after looking at a map and she sent a text to Cory to let him know that she was there just as she walked up, eyes searching for his familiar face. Cory was running late, mostly because he didn’t actually want to go anywhere, but he did want to see Bianca because she was a familiar face that wasn’t pissed at him for anything, so he actually cleaned himself up and got out the door. He’d chosen the Venetian because it was at the end of the Strip at the nearer bus stop to his folks’ place, it had good air conditioning, and he liked being able to look up and see fake blue clouds even when it was glaring and clear outside. Nobody in the place would have guessed he was there to meet somebody that looked as polished as Bianca did; his hair was a clean but a messy confection of tangles and his jeans were about as tattered as his old t-shirt, which displayed a picture of a Death Star made out of Legos. Cory was feeling abused by the world, and whenever he got the chance he sent Arthur scathing, angry comments about living his own life. The two of them were closer than Arthur wanted to admit, and Cory could feel him back there, thinking guilty things just out of reach. Well, good. Cory was going to rub it in until he felt better, and that was probably going to be a long time from now. He put his hands in his pockets rather vehemently and then stepped into the crowd of milling tourists, stepping out next to Bianca a moment later. “Hey.” Bee was so focused on scanning the crowd that his voice next to her surprised her enough to make her jump and turn to face him, the “Oh!” turning into a warm smile. “Hey, Cory,”’ she greeted warmly, moving her bag from the arm closest to him to the other side, leaving her free to give him a hug. The contact was brief and not nearly as tight of a hug as she was known for, but the sentiment was there all the same. She was glad that he was physically okay - as far as she could tell - and the familiar Star Wars tee and messy hair were a comfort. It meant, at the very least, that Arthur hadn’t dressed him. From what she remembered when she’d been able to see through Ariadne’s eyes, he liked to dress like she did, possibly even a bit more classy than she did. Maybe Arthur had cottoned on to the fact that he was just making things worse. She certainly hoped so, as it would save her from having to remind him why he should back off from taking over Cory. “It’s good to see you. You sure you’re alright?” She meant physically for the most part, but she took a few minutes to look him in the eye so that she could try to gauge his mental status as well. “Are you hungry? Have you eaten yet?” Bianca was definitely trying to take care of him in her own way, already looking toward the pizzeria and taking a step toward it so that he’d be encouraged to follow her and maybe eat as well. “My treat,” she added warmly, knowing it wasn’t trouble at all as far as she was concerned. It was more her way to feel like she was helping and she didn’t even think that he might be offended by it. Cory was surprised by the hug, which was not smothering but showed a certain amount of affection that Cory only expected from people who were dead or related to him. Cory felt unused muscles stretch as he set his lips back in an awkward smile that was, all the same, entirely genuine. “Hey,” he repeated. Cory left behind hints of spearmint toothpaste and tropical Old Spice deodorant as he pulled back, and he looked down at her assembled silk and cotton. “You look nice,” he said, impressed and obviously awkward about the difference in attire between the two of them. Cory was always set at ease by the more obvious emotional assurances, however, and since a hug meant good things, his smile returned fairly quickly. When she asked if he was alright he just shrugged. It was always hard to judge Cory’s mental status, as he never seemed to vary from a general line of flat, depressed disinterest in almost everything. Cory could feel Arthur using his gaze to see Bianca, but it was only a brief flicker, and he didn’t have time to do anything but scowl about it. His eyes moved from her to the pizzeria and back, and he immediately followed at her heel when she moved. “I could eat.” Cory’s mother had done her absolute best with him, but manners sometimes came second to food, especially when it was just sitting there. Cory tried to maneuver through the crowd without slamming into anyone and forgot about offering to pay somewhere between one tourist and the next. It wasn’t all that surprising, to her, that Cory hugged her back. It was a little awkward maybe, more than a little unexpected, but it felt good all the same. “Thank you,” she replied, blushing ever so slightly at the compliment. There were some nerves, just for a brief moment, but Bianca pushed the insecurity away. There were more important things than what she was wearing. “Arthur isn’t giving you anymore problems?” From her tone, it was clear she had no qualms saying something to the other man if necessary. Not even Ariadne’s fondness for Arthur would be able to stop her from trying to keep Cory safe. Thankfully, her determination was enough to keep Ariadne out of her thoughts. The rift between the two was growing, for better or for worse. “I’m glad to hear it,” Bianca replied warmly when he said that he could eat. It didn’t particularly surprise her, as all boys could eat all the time it seemed, but she was glad to hear it all the same. She led him over to the pizzeria, taking his hand when the crowd became too thick to move side by side. She dropped his hand once they were clear of the traffic, closer to the entrance to the pizzeria. Bianca didn’t stop until they were at the hostess’ stand. “A table for two, please. Outside, here, if that’s alright,” she added, gesturing to the tables that were set up just outside the restaurant proper. There was an empty table, which Bee was banking on not being taken just yet because of how busy the shops were. She didn’t think it would be much of a bother for them. The hostess merely nodded, made a note in her book, and let another waiter lead them over to the table. “Your server will be with you shortly,” he said, leaving them both menus before walking away. Joseph normally stayed away from the hotels on the strip. His work was beyond the lights. People in these places had their own security. Men with guns and no badges. In fact, he wasn't working at all that day. He'd just met with a woman whose husband he'd arrested a week earlier. She'd called and asked, and he didn't even consider saying no. It had been a good chat, and he was in a decent mood as he walked toward the hotel's exit. He didn't like the fake blue skies overhead, and he wasn't taking a leisurely stroll. Skies didn't look that way, see, not even over the water. It was nothing but coincidence, Joseph noticing Cory and the dark-haired woman who took his hand as they crossed through the busy crowd. He slowed, then stopped, then waited. When the couple was seated at a table, he spent a few minutes attempting to talk himself out of saying hello. Eames was quiet, but that wasn't surprising, and Joseph was left to make the choice alone. He waited until the hostess left, and then he walked toward their table, stopping a few feet shy of them. "Cory," he said, the name a definite greeting, Joseph's version of hello. The unknown woman got a nod and an apologetic look. "Don't want to interrupt. Just saying hello." There was a substantial delay in reaction before Cory’s eyes fully focused on Joseph even though he was looking right at him as the man drifted their way through the crowd. It took Arthur a fraction of the time to notice someone paying attention to him, because the confrontation with Basilio had made the point man sufficiently nervous. It was Cory noticing Arthur using his eyes, not the actual presence of Joseph, that first tipped Cory off. At first his gaze was frowning, but then he lit on Joseph and comprehended who he was. Again, he didn’t have time to really get angry at Arthur, because he needed to focus on the new arrival. Cory’s chair made a screeching noise against the small white tile assembled under his chair as he jumped up and stepped around the table, moving with a kind of haste that made it seem as if he expected Joseph to move off without warning. There was nothing of threat in his face, and his spread of fingers forward toward the other man’s sleeve. “Sullivan,” Cory said, with determination and no small hint of desperation. “C’mere. Sit.” He glanced over his shoulder at Bianca, eyes meaningful. “This is Bianca.” Pull. “You should have told me he was in your head,” Cory added fiercely in the air as his head whipped back around toward Joseph. There were a few things Bianca had learned to be wary of since Andrew killed his grandfather. Odd looking men who made her feel uncomfortable were at the top of that list and this stranger certainly made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint why she was so unsure about him, but that unease only grew the longer it took for Cory to recognize the man. Despite knowing it was rude, she ignored him in favor of watching Cory, trying to gauge if he really wanted the man there or not. Clearly though, he knew this Sullivan character and Bianca tried to think if she’d seen his name on the journals anywhere. She couldn’t recall though, and Cory was inviting the man to sit. A protest was there, right on the tip of her tongue, but then he looked at her and she sighed. ‘Fine’, as if to say, but she was slightly put out. Of course, all of that didn’t matter because the only ‘he’ that Cory could possibly be talking about that fiercely was Eames. Bianca crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her frostiest look at Sullivan. The look itself was meant for Eames, but that didn’t matter. It could be for Sullivan too. “Cory,” she started, though her gaze didn’t waver from the stranger, “Are you sure this is a good idea?” His relationship with Evan had been Bad with a capital B and she didn’t want the same thing to happen to him again. No one else seemed to take his mental health into consideration, so she would do that for all of their sakes. The nagging feeling in the back of her mind, a brief flicker of familiarity at the name paired with that face, was ignored in favor of her friend. Cory was definitely more important. Joseph's wife had gone a lot time earlier, but that didn't mean he couldn't still read a woman's expression; it was the kind of thing a man never forgot. He was about to tell Cory no, even with all that tugging, because the woman at the table looked distinctly uncomfortable. Maybe that was a cop's eye too, one that could sense unease when someone opened the door on a dispute call. But then Cory was saying precisely what Joseph didn't want him to say, and his gaze narrowed. He figured Eames would have been smart enough to tell Arthur to keep his mouth shut, even if he did break down and tell Arthur about him. But apparently not; this was trouble. Joseph didn't acknowledge what Cory had said. He dug his feet in, hands in his pocket, as if he wasn't tense all over now. Shouldn't have stopped, Joe. The young woman's question almost made him groan, because she obviously knew exactly what Cory was talking about. Eames, in his head, sighed, and Joseph shook his own head a second later. "Bad idea," he agreed. "Just saying hello. Better go," he motioned back toward the exit, wondering if there was a way to salvage this so his identity didn't make it back to everyone in that door. Or, at the very least, away from whoever Eames was so dead-set on him not knowing about. Cory's fingers wrapped thicker into Joseph's sleeve, twisting until he could get a better grip low on the outside of the other man's elbow. "No, stay. We need to talk. You said I shouldn't let them take over, right. So stay then so they're not the boss of everything." It made perfect sense to him. Arthur was in the back of his mind, whispering loud enough that he was giving Cory a headache from the snake slither of his voice, but Cory stuck his lip out and refused to cooperate. He set his shoulders back toward the table and pulled Joseph back toward it, obviously willing to hijack lives and chairs to get what he wanted if he actually cared enough to really want it. "You should have said," he repeated. "He went fucking crazy and I bet Bianca thinks so too." He looked at her for support, but when he saw her expression that hope flickered out into stubbornness. "Of course it's a good idea. He's a nice guy." Cory rolled his mouth over his chin and looked down. "Trust me. We have to make sure he doesn't get hurt." The last trailed off into a grumble of irritated sound, barely audible over the chatter of the crowd. It seemed Sullivan was smart enough to recognize that she didn’t want him around and that it was a bad idea to have even said something in the first place. No doubt Eames had told him about her role in Evan’s decline and how fiercely she spoke her mind. Cory, however, was insistent and she had to admit, it was good that he was being so passionate about something. Even if that something was the man whose head Eames was currently in. She was still very, very skeptical though and her gaze turned more wary with just a touch of frost instead of all frost. Cory had a valid point. “I’m not sure which ‘he’ we’re talking about, but yes. He went crazy.” It applied to all of them, as far as she was concerned. “And yes, you shouldn’t let Arthur take over.” Bianca turned a very serious gaze to Cory, trying to convey the absolute seriousness of that. Ariadne had kept her distance, thankfully, and Bee didn’t want to think about why Ariadne might feel the need to take over again. “Cory,” she said, slightly annoyed that he was already attached to Joseph. She wanted to point out that he’d thought Evan was appropriate to be around, but that would’ve been a low blow and one that Cory didn’t necessarily need. But it was good that he had something to focus on. That was, ultimately, what made her sigh and relax the tension in her shoulders just slightly. “All right, fine,” she relented. “But I still think it’s a bad idea.” Joseph was so much older than the young man and young woman at the table, and the idea of either kid keeping him from being hurt was funny. He didn't laugh, though. He was too angry for that, even though it was only visible in the small things - his shoulders, the corners of his eyes. He pulled away from Cory's grip, and he shook his head sharply, a movement that was all cop. "No. Not getting hurt." He paid a slight bit of attention to Bianca, but he didn't need to actually look at her to know her thoughts on the matter. She'd made it clear in her body language, and he was too old to force himself on anyone. The talk of Arthur taking over just made everything more surreal and, at the same, more irritating. Give him a boat and the water anytime; the sea was a better mistress than this desert was turning out to be recently. "She's right. Bad idea. Have to go. Enjoy your food." He almost added cautionary words about not telling.. Cobb, Eames filtered in with a sigh, finally giving up. But he didn't. Damage was done. Only thing to do was keep away from that hotel going forward. The hard policeman movement of Joseph’s head did more to separate Cory from his sleeve and proximity than that of his arm. Cory was simply not subtle enough to understand that the man was angry, he only got a sense of discomfort and negativity coming from the both of them, and it was not in his personality to fight it. He looked disappointed and hurt, as if this resistance to the idea of a Vegas-side community (sans Basilio) was a personal loss, and then he stepped back. His hands fluttered somewhat awkwardly, as a moment ago they’d had purpose and now they were just in the way. “Oh,” he said, looking again at Joseph’s eyes without comprehension of what was going on behind them. “Okay, well. Fine, then.” Cory attempted to look as if he did not care. Arthur was upset about something, but the negativity was now coming from all sides, and Cory ignored it. “I just thought you’d want to talk about it.” "Come by next week," Joseph told Cory, giving in to all that sadness in his gestures. He didn't know if Cory couldn't tell how much Bianca didn't like any of this, or if Arthur hadn't explained to him that a cop among criminals was bad news. "Dog still needs walking," he said, and then he motioned to the table and the three of them. "Nothing to talk about here," he added, but he knew that wouldn't keep them from discussing things as soon as his back was turned. His jaw clenched again, with more than a little anger at the realization. If he could return Eames just then, he would. Anything he found out about the man Cobb had in Las Vegas, he'd have to act on it. He wasn't a dirty cop, and he never had been; now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and he wasn't even sure who to blame for it. He backed away, and he turned without giving Bianca another look; no point in making her more uncomfortable. Despite how upset Cory was at Sullivan’s departure, Bianca was glad for it. Their involvement with Evan had been Bad - how many times had she thought that - and despite swearing to herself that she would never, ever become anything like Evan, she felt herself starting to slip down that path. The drinking alone was beginning to become a problem and now that she couldn’t see Rosie for a few weeks, the sole reason she was working so hard to keep her shit together was out of the picture. How sad was it that a seven year old was the only real reason for sobriety? Well, that wasn’t true. She was trying to keep herself together for Cory’s sake too. Maybe Sullivan wasn’t so bad if he recognized that staying would only make things worse. Of course, going around and offering for Cory to come by, to walk a dog no less, gave her second thoughts. She’d have to have a talk with the man later. “Just let him go, Cory,” she said softly, her intention being that Sullivan wouldn’t overhear. She saw the way his shoulders were tense, the crinkles around his eyes. Anger wasn’t a foreign emotion to her, especially not from men who were trying not to let it show. It was clear he had some kind of soft spot for Cory, but how much of that was Eames and Arthur, she wasn’t sure. Yet another question to investigate. “It’s fine. Tell me about what happened with Arthur?” It was a poor attempt to distract him, but it was there all the same. Cory watched Sullivan as he turned, but he didn’t call him back. There was no sense of parting, no depression that he’d never see him again, just that unconquerable feeling of uselessness that caught up to Cory when he wasn’t paying attention. Bianca was speaking to him, but Cory wasn’t listening to what she said. There was a mistake somewhere, but he didn’t know where it was. The sensation surprised him, and it was familiar at the same time. Cory tried to place it, chewing on his lower lip hard enough to make the chapped lips bleed. The brief reverie was interrupted when Cory felt Arthur use his eyes again and it made him want to scream. His thoughts flared with formless anger, and Arthur hurriedly retreated from consciousness before Cory could come up with words to match. Cory turned swiftly and sat heavily where he’d been a second later. The chair screeched, and Cory pushed his palms against the edge of the table in a move that he tried to put off as balance but was really useless frustration. The table screeched too, and he immediately dropped his hands. “What do you mean, what happened with Arthur? He went through the door so he and Eames could fuck, same deal, different day.” His face was twisted sour now. She watched him with a carefully critical eye, looking hard without seeming like that was what she was doing. It wasn’t until his lip started to bleed that her hand reached for his, stopping almost immediately when he turned and sat. Bianca didn’t understand what was going on in Cory’s mind, but she wanted to know. She wanted to help. It was just hard to figure out exactly how she could do that productively. Worry coursed through her as he made his chair and table screech. He spoke though, before she could ask him what was wrong and she frowned deeply. “What is it that bothers you about that? That they’re together? That he only goes through to see Eames? Or that he goes through altogether?” She leaned forward, genuinely, honestly and all too obviously concerned with the expression on his face and his general demeanor. It was almost enough to make Bianca want to shake him and tell him to snap out of it. Sliding one elbow along the edge of the table, Cory planted his cheek on an upturned palm. With his left hand he fiddled with the silverware, lifting the one end of the dull knife and dropping it again on the sleek fork. The result was his eyes averted from Bianca’s gaze and a continual clinking sound. “I don’t care that they’re together,” he said, finally, working some of the frustration out after a few seconds. “It’s just all he cares about, and he just does whatever he wants. He doesn’t ask me for stuff, or even care about my stupid life.” Cory was fully aware there wasn’t much to his life to care about, but the resentment was clear. “He thinks because I don’t do anything it doesn’t matter. I’m a person, you know.” He lifted dark lashes to give Bianca a faintly aggressive look, as if daring her to deny it. She waited patiently for him to find his words and order his thoughts. Her heart went out to him with every word and when he looked at her, all she could give him was a mixture of agreement and annoyance, though the annoyance was for Arthur. “Of course you are,” Bianca affirmed, this time reaching for the hand that was playing with the silverware. “He doesn’t have any right thinking he can just do whatever he wants and it’s not okay that he does that.” She offered him an encouraging smile and a reassuring squeeze of his hand. “You need to find something to help you shut him out. Being angry helps me keep Ariadne from taking over. That might work for you, it might not.” She shrugged, though there was some worry in her eyes, wondering what being angry all the time would do to Cory. It wasn’t healthy for her and she didn’t want to make life more difficult for Cory. “I know I’ve said this before but doing things will help. Anything, honestly. And I’ll help you find something,” she added, quite seriously. “He needs to respect that you have a life that you’re in control of, not him.” So many conversations to have with so many people, but it would be worth it if it actually helped. Bianca was cut off from adding anything more by the waitress, who came by to take their orders. She simply asked for a slice of plain pizza and a Coke before both women looked at Cory expectantly. Cory asked for a slice with everything without his usual enthusiasm, and when she stopped his hand on the silverware he glanced at it, and then at her, reminding himself who he was talking to. Becky would not have been so reassuring. She tended to expect him to follow along with her opinion once she gave it, and she was rarely disappointed. Cory had no idea what Becky’s opinion would be, and for a second he was tempted to ask Bianca, but in the end he kept his question to himself. He gave a little shake of his head. “Getting angry helps sometimes. I can keep him out for a while. He doesn’t take over all the time, it’s just... I don’t know. He’s more together than me and it makes it harder.” Cory’s shoulders tensed. “I don’t want to just to something. You tried to help before and it didn’t work. It’s different with you, you do everything,” he added. Bianca nodded and withdrew her hand once he started talking again. She hadn’t even noticed when the waitress left to put in their order. “You can be just as together as Arthur is, Cory. And it’s not that different,” she added, her voice softening as she leaned back in her chair. She took a few minutes to herself, to think about what she was about to do, but she thought maybe, if he knew what some of what she was dealing with, he might understand a little more. “You got memories that one time, didn’t you? When it felt like there were experiences, memories that weren’t your own?” She waited for his reply before continuing. “I got a few, but the last one I got before I woke up was of my best friend shooting someone under the order of his grandfather. After everything with Evan and the guys across the door, I...you know, I never had any kind of alcohol, except for the wine at church but that doesn’t exactly count. That night though, I finished off my friend’s bottle of tequila. I stopped volunteering, missed classes...I still drink, but not as bad as it was in the beginning. It probably isn’t even ‘bad’ by most standards. Certainly not Ev- well, not that bad. Ariadne took over a lot then, even orchestrated a session with a therapist. I didn’t want to go at first, didn’t want to get better, but Rosie, the little girl I babysit? She needed me And you...” Here, Bianca finally looked away. “I want to help you and I can’t help you if I can’t help myself. At least, I don’t think so. But you’re important to me, so I’m willing to do what I can to help you get yourself as together as Arthur is.” Her gaze didn’t raise after she stopped talking, not really sure how he’d take that information. Cory didn’t interrupt when she sat back to think. He barely noticed as waiters came and went, avoiding their table, pressing on into their strange little lives. Cory liked the people-watching on the Strip, finding the tourists and partiers like so many fat pink salmon in a shallow river. It wasn’t much different here in the Venetian food court, except the salmon had flashier scales and nobody asked him for a handout. He looked back at her when she mentioned the memories, and he nodded without really responding, his eyes searching as he tried to remember. As she continued, his fingers stilled on the silverware. There was a physical change as his spine took on more weight and lifted him upright in the chair. He leaned forward to connect better with what she was saying, and even a near mention of Evan only made him flinch with his hand sunk deep in his messy hair. After a second, he said, “Nobody is as together as Arthur is.” It was a very, very lame attempt at humor, and he had a weak smile to match. “But... thanks. Maybe I can try... something.” It was a concession, and more than anyone had managed to get out of him in a while. |