mk robinson wants to be a star. (hitjackpot) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-04-18 01:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | catwoman, mary jane watson |
WHO Wren, MK, and baby Gus.
WHAT Something not quite legal.
WHEN Today-ish!
WHERE The Crossing, then a duplex outside the city.
WARNING Swears (what do you expect from MK?) and a little disturbing imagery.
Wren knew she wasn’t feeling well enough to do anything as daring as stealing a child, but there wasn’t any other option, not in her mind. She didn’t even think about asking Roger until the wheels were already in motion, and by then there was no turning back, even if she wanted to. And Luke, well, she didn’t know about Luke’s more recent, violent tendencies, but she’d seen him overkill a woman on a floor with a shard of glass once, and she knew his temper was so much worse than it had been when she’d known him before. She wasn’t sure he’d be able to rein it in if she asked him to come, if he saw the bruises that dotted Gus’ arm. And there existed the very real possibility that she might get caught. If she did get caught, then Luke was Gus’ best chance at a life. No, Luke couldn’t be implicated. The Crossing was a huge church, and Wren knew they had Bible school early in the mornings. Gus had been attending since Wren had found him, two years earlier, while Amy met with the women of the church. It was a mixed bag, as far as places to steal a child went, but she wasn’t going to risk Iris not letting her take him from the park, and she wasn’t going to wait until she had a clear shot some other day. No, this was happening today, come what may. She’d rented MK a car, cash and with a fake name, and she’d left the keys, as promised, near the doorway. As for the safehouse, she’d considered the place Luke had kept her hidden, but (again) she didn’t want him implicated. In the end, she paid cash for a quiet duplex a half hour outside the city, one with an absentee landlord in the second unit. She’d worry about getting Gus to Caesar’s once everything calmed down - positive thinking. Wren had taken a cab, and she was dressed in perfect church-going creams. Heels, a large brimmed Sunday hat, conservative skirt and a blouse that could belong to any wealthy church goer inside the cool halls of the church’s school. Her hair was up in a twist, and she was pallor and demureness, memorable only as something quiet and elegant among other women of the same ilk, the hat obscuring her features. There were no indications of the anger brimming just beneath the surface, and dark circles and pale skin hid the growing concern that Roger was right, that Luke did have someone else he hadn’t told her about. But that wasn’t for now. No, now was about the little boy behind the innocuous door to the classroom. Gus’ class was crowded with children, ages three to five, and Wren took a very deep breath before leaning just slightly against the open door. In the chaos, no one in the room noticed, and she knew she had only to get the attention of the dark-haired boy sitting at a small table and drawing, a green crayon fisted in his little hand. MK had been released from the hospital the day, like she had told Wren, but she didn’t return to the villa until the next morning. She feared that stepping foot in there immediately after being in the psychiatric ward for a few days would cause a relapse. It was silly, of course, because she knew the last remnants of the gas disappeared days ago, both in the apartment and in her system. But still, that irrational worry bubbled underneath the surface, one that fed into a underlying panic always hidden away, one that drove her to find comfort in Adam’s arms that night. She left his place early though, saying she was spending the day with Dani, and made her way to Caesars. It was eerie to step foot in the suite again, and she did have to take a moment to steady herself before continuing about her business. Wren had already left, leaving the suite empty and MK alone to ready herself for whatever was about to happen. She had kind of hoped that Wren would still be there when she arrived so they could talk a little bit about what happened or what they were about to do. MK wanted to tell Wren about what she saw when the gas, or about how Simon was going after whoever he thought it was that drugged them, or that the doctors at the hospital were recommending (RE: forcing) her to see a psychiatrist as a condition of her release. But she had a feeling that all of that would be the last thing on Wren’s mind at the moment. Whatever was about to go down -- and MK knew for a fact it wasn’t really going to be good -- it was serious, to say the least. She dressed as demurely as possible, a white button-up, blue jeans, and a pair of riding boots, and tucked her vibrant red hair into a dirty blond wig which she twisted into a bun. It wasn’t a complete transformation, of course, but it was enough that no one should recognize her on first glance, unless they really knew her. Sunglasses helped, and so did leaving through the back entrance of the villa. It was early, and there weren’t many people milling around, but the fewer people who spotted her, the better. It would help her alibi if things went south today. Driving came like second-nature, thankfully, even though it had been a little while since she was behind the wheel, and she made it to The Crossing at the designated time, easily finding a parking spot near the front. MK didn’t know how long she was waiting, or what she was waiting for. But she waited as patiently as she could, eyes focused in the front and hands drumming on the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing through the stereo. It was frighteningly easy, Wren realized, to get a four-year-old boy to slip his hand into yours and leave a crowded room behind. The promise of seeing Finch (Monkey), the confirmation that it would be okay with mom, and there he was. He’d only spoken to her twice, and he’d only actually known her a few weeks, and yet he was smiling up at her with Luke’s smile, and it made Wren more terrified than she’d ever been before. It wasn’t that she questioned what she was doing (she didn’t), but it was the reality that anyone could have walked in here and done the same thing just as easily. She thought, maybe, that it was every mother’s fear, but there wasn’t time for that, not now. It was a risk, taking a detour into the small bathroom that waited at the end of the hall, but if any alarm went up (when one did) it would be for a little boy in his Sunday best, and Wren couldn’t risk letting Gus keep the clothing on. There was a simple change of clothing in her Prada bag - tiny jeans and a gray shirt - and she helped him change out of the little suit he wore with the reasoning that he couldn’t play with Monkey in his going out clothes. He looked scared then, just for a minute, and Wren realized getting his clothing dirty was probably a punishable offense in his home. She had to grit her teeth to keep from letting her anger show, and that only doubled as she noticed the handprint bruise along the boy’s collarbone (a perfect match for the one on his forearm) but she had to focus, and there would be enough time for self-hatred later. Wren tucked a baseball cap on his messy brown hair, and she shoved the suit into her purse, and she took his hand and led him outside. She knew they had fifteen minutes, twenty tops, based on the way children were already starting to pour outside, and the running and playing made it easier for Wren to walk down the sidewalk toward the front of the complex. She was just a mother taking her child home, and she knew this would never be possible in a small church; it was only the size of this place that made it possible. Out of the corner of her eye, Wren caught sight of Steven against the building entry. He was far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to recognize her, but she still had nightmares about that man, and she would know that lean anywhere. She moved quicker, seeing the rental car, and it was all she could do not to pick Gus up and run - but that would call too much attention to her, and she needed to finish this before she panicked and fell apart. Wren rounded the car, and she opened the backdoor before even looking at MK. Gus was starting to look scared now, and Wren was reminded that he really didn’t know her. She was little more than a stranger, one that was putting him into a strange car with an unknown driver, and she tried to make her voice sound reassuring as she tucked the seatbelt around him, the pull of the belt baring the bruise at his neck. “It’s okay. They wouldn’t let me bring Monkey to church. It’s okay, Gus. I promise.” She looked up, meeting MK’s gaze in the rearview through dark glasses. She was pretty sure she didn’t need to clarify; At four, Gus couldn’t look more like Luke if he tried. “Go. I’ll wander around, then drive in the opposite direction. I’ll meet you at the duplex once it’s safe.” MK jumped when the door opened suddenly, having totally zoned out by the time Wren approached the car, and it took her a moment to realize what was going on. Her gaze fell first on the scared little boy now buckled in the back seat. It was jarring to see a mini-Luke, as the boy was the spitting image of Luke. Gus, that was what Wren called him, right? Immediately, everything fell into place like someone tipped over a line of dominoes. The boy looked no older than four or five, which lined up to the last time she had seen Wren. When Wren ran away from New York, from all that she knew. MK’s stomach lurched at the thought, and fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter as she caught Wren’s eyes through the rearview window. Was this the big secret then? The frown tugging at her lips let Wren know how unhappy she was at the moment, but she nodded all the same. “Okay,” she said to reaffirm just as her eyes fell onto Gus again. He was distressed, and she tried her best to give him a reassuring smile. “Call me if there’s a change.” As she waited for Wren to close the door, MK switched the keys in the ignition and started the car. She frowned towards Wren again, mouthing something like We need to talk, before she took off as discreetly as possible. “Hi, Gus,” she said with a warm smile and risked turning around to look at him for a second . “I’m Maddie Kate. It’s gonna be alright, sweetheart. Okay? We’re gonna be there soon. Okay, handsome?” MK never really dealt with kids, and being alone with one so upset made her nervous and uncomfortable. God, she was not well enough for this, but she knew it was important, so important; Wren wouldn’t do something as risky and dangerous as this if it wasn’t. The drive to the duplex took longer than expected, mostly because MK was trying her best to stick away from populated places and roads and drive slower than when she drove towards the church. Maybe not the smartest idea, but again, trying not to be spotted was the name of the game, especially with a toddler in the backseat now. A toddler who was distraught. He was sniffling, and he was scared and jumpy, and it broke MK’s heart to see the baby boy in that state. So she smiled and kept asking him questions, just little things about his favorite games and books. He wasn’t calm, but at least he stopped enough so that they could make it to the duplex without stopping. She parked a little further away from the building, but instead of immediately bringing Gus inside, she moved to the back seat to try her best to comfort Gus more. “Hey,” she said softly with a smile, taking off her sunglasses as she sat next to him and opened the buckle. “It’s okay, sweetie.” She reached out to wipe some of the tears from his cheeks, but the little boy recoiled, which made her frown deeply for a moment. She knew that look, knew that reaction, and that was when she saw the bruises. Sighing, she tried to give him a warm look again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Gus. I promise, okay?” Wren had intended to stay at the church until all the meetings ended, but the presence of Steven, combined with the look on MK’s face before she’d driven off, made her change her mind. She returned her own rental car to the airport, hopefully distracting anyone with the thought that she’d taken the boy and gotten on a plane. She was fairly confident no one had seen her face, and she was hoping no one would remember a blonde woman leaving with a little boy. She took a cab to the duplex, after changing into jeans and a t-shirt at the airport, blonde hair loose and nothing like the carefully put together woman from the church. The duplex was empty, and Wren panicked, pace and pace and pace, and it took her a few minutes longer to go outside, to notice the car parked a little ways off. She almost passed out from the relief, skin pale and dark circles beneath her eyes still starkly visible without the hat and makeup to hide them. She tucked the duplex keys in her pocket, and she walked out to the car, forcing herself to move slowly. There was nothing wrong, no hurry, nothing anyone needed to see or notice. “Hi,” Wren said, when she finally reached the car (it felt like miles, it felt like years), opening the back door and giving MK a nod. “We’ll talk inside, okay?” she asked her friend, motioning for her to get rid of the wig now. Safer to be a redhead with a little boy in a baseball cap; no one was looking for that. Gus, scared and whimpering, was at least glad of the familiar face, as became evident when he grabbed onto Wren’s waist. She froze, stared down at the tiny baseball cap that covered his head, and found she had no idea what to do. She’d never touched this child. Holding his hand to get him out of the church, that had been adrenaline and necessity, and she had no idea what to do now. It was evidenced in the awkwardness uncertainty when her arms closed around him in a hug, and she had to swallow three times to find her voice. “Okay. Let’s go inside, oui?” she asked him, though she didn’t expect an answer from the terrified boy. She’d done this so many times as a teenager, but that was so different, and she looked to MK for help. Her expression was very clearly lost, very I don’t know what to do. “Sorry,” MK started immediately as Wren opened the door. She moved to take the wig off and tossed it in a brown shopping bag underneath her driver’s seat. She had a change of clothes in there as well, just in case, but that could be taken care of inside. A lot could be. Red curls in place of the blond wig made MK feel more comfortable, more herself, and she visibly calmed for a moment. Flashing Wren a tense smile as Gus latched on the blonde's waist, MK could see how awkward her friend was around the child. Hell, she had no idea what to do with a kid. In her opinion, no one in their right mind would leave a child in her care. This was desperate times, however, and MK felt like she had to take the reigns. Fucking great. “Yeah, let’s go upstairs. Okay, Gus? We’re gonna go upstairs now.” She tried her best to sound soft, to not let the panic creeping inside her throat to seep through, and she mostly succeeded. Smiling, she reached out and touched one of Gus’s arms with the brush of her fingers. “Let’s go upstairs,” she repeated before motioning for Wren to move back a little. “Do you want to carry him or should I?” It was a silly request, really, because MK saw how much her friend had frozen up. Right. Bite the bullet, take the reigns. She climbed out of the car quickly, closing the door behind her and pressing the button to lock it up. With a beep, it was secure, and she pocketed the keys. As gently as possible, she pried the little boy from around Wren and scooped him up in her arms, making shushing noises and bouncing him a little and rubbing his back as she began to walk towards the duplex. “She’s right here, sweetheart, see? Don’t worry, we’ll be inside soon.” Wren moved back when MK motioned, and it was an unthinking movement. The little boy’s arms tightened around her waist when MK pried him away, and Wren finally managed to catch her breath and stop a fit of rattled coughing halfway to the duplex. She followed quietly, trying to keep the cough from returning, and she managed a pale smile at the wide gray eyes that peered at her from over MK’s shoulder. She’d never felt quite as useless as she did just then, quite as completely inept. She had no idea how to be a mother, and her memories from her own maman weren’t anything she wanted to recreate. She’d loved the woman - no, girl, Wren reminded herself - but it didn’t lessen her adult realization that her maman’s version of mothering involved teaching a little girl how to be a hooker. When the entrance to the duplex was near, Wren moved around MK, and she unlocked the door into the cool, quiet unit. The little boy had his head on MK’s shoulder by then, having cried himself to exhaustion. Maybe fear was a part of it too, Wren realized with guilt, and she locked the door behind MK and motioned up the stairs. “The rooms are upstairs,” she said quietly, and she led the way, pulling the baseball cap off the sleepy boy’s head as she passed MK on the steps. The plan had been hatched too quickly to make the duplex anything that would appeal to a child of four, and the bedroom Wren led MK into was clean and bright, but largely empty of anything. There was a flat screen television on the wall, and Wren busied herself trying to figure out what the children’s stations were. It was nervous energy, the way she pushed the buttons on the remote and didn’t look over until Gus whimpered to be let down. The little boy squirmed out of MK’s arms and climbed onto the bed, where he curled up and screwed his eyes shut tight enough that tears spilled onto his lashes. Helplessly, Wren looked over the mattress at MK, and then she set the remote aside and sat down on one side of the too-large bed. He looked so small, and all Wren could think to do was rub his back, even as she motioned for MK to sit down. It was telling, maybe, that Gus didn’t complain or fuss, that he didn’t scream or demand, and Wren just stared down at the mop of brown hair, not saying anything until the boy’s breathing calmed to something deep, with only the hitched memory of tears. Wren looked up at MK then, and she sighed, dark smudges beneath her damp eyes darker from the exertion. Her friend didn’t look any better, she realized, now that she could realize things. “You’re ill,” was all she said, before adding. “Go ahead. I know you want to yell.” It was cheating, maybe, because MK couldn’t scream without waking the sleeping boy. Oh, MK wanted to yell herself hoarse right now, sickness be damned, but only the little boy sleeping between them stopped her short. Emotion after emotion barrelled her, and she found it hard to choose one to run with. She sat down softly on the other side of the mattress, causing the tiniest squeak, and shot Wren a hard look. “No shit I’m ill, Wren,” she said vehemently, quietly, with her eyes narrowing a little. “You’re sick, we’re both sick. Did you think about that before deciding to...well, deciding to kidnap a fucking kid?” She knew in the back of her mind she should be watching her language for the kid’s sake, but MK was too irritated to filter herself. She sighed, too, looking even more worse for wear than she had in the morning. The panic was starting to set in again, and she had to take a few steadying breaths before continuing. “So, this is why then. Why you left.” It wasn’t a question like it maybe should have been. MK wasn’t stupid. Naive, sometimes yes, and a little oblivious to the minor details, but even an idiot could put two and two together. Wren didn’t bother answering MK with words, not at first, and she didn’t contradict the statement that they were both ill. They were, and she knew perfectly well that they were going to need help to finish this - however this got finished. Instead, she moved her hand from Gus’ back, and she pushed up the gray sleeve that covered his arm. The bruises there were angry, dark things, fingers that must have pressed hard enough to result in more than the tears they’d seen today. It was her response, because no, she hadn’t thought about anything before taking him, nothing beyond that. Whatever happened, however this panned out, she couldn’t leave him there. The truth was, simply, that she’d never been close enough before to see how many times this had happened before; it was a new nightmare, one she knew wouldn’t go away anytime soon, and she couldn’t keep her own tears from spilling over. Gus stirred a little at the raised voices, whimpered in his sleep, and Wren went back to rubbing his back until he settled again. “I went to a clinic, and the dates - I thought it was Jude’s men, and I didn’t know how to tell Luke.” Which was a very simplistic version of the truth, but it was the crux of it. She didn’t need to go into everything that happened after, not just then, and it was pretty obvious the clinic had been wrong about the timing just from looking at Gus. She sighed, and she rubbed her temple. “You need rest, and I shouldn’t have asked you to help, but I trust you.” It was said with an apologetic little shrug. “Go home. Stay with Simon or Adam, return the rental to the airport, take a cab, pretend I didn’t drag you into this. If anyone asks, you didn’t know anything. I don’t want you getting caught or blamed for this. Just- Don’t tell? They’ll come take him.” And she sounded very, very scared then. The redhead pursed her lips when she caught sight of the dark marks all over the little boy’s arm. She knew about growing up in an abusive house, knew about the yelling and hitting and grabs that were too hard for someone so small. Her heart ached then, a helpless sting, and she reached forward to rub her hand over the mop of brown hair on top of Gus’s head. MK realized that she and Wren probably helped him out of an awful situation, but at what cost? Couldn’t they have done it another way? She wasn’t very versed in law or whatever, but she was certain there was something more legal, more permanent that they could do. Then again, Wren kidnapped abused kids for a living in Seattle. Legality wasn’t necessarily their forte. MK didn’t make a move to go. “I’m not gonna tell,” she assured immediately. Of course she wasn’t. “Wren, you can trust me. Of course I won’t.” She took her hand off the boy’s head and leaned forward to dry the tears slipping down her friend’s face. “You could have told me, you know. God, Wren, you could have fucking told me years ago.” The anger was old, slowly building, but she couldn’t be as livid as she wanted when Wren looked so frightened. “What the hell is your plan?” Wren shook her head. “MK, I couldn’t. It got so bad that I’m even ashamed to talk about the things I did, and it wouldn’t change anything, not once it was too late to change anything.” She coughed then, swallowed the sound down so as to not wake the sleeping boy, and then she looked at her friend with gray eyes that had no answers. “I don’t have a plan,” she admitted. She didn’t. There was no plan, no solution. This wasn’t like Seattle, where there was a network of safehouses. And even if there was, it wasn’t like Wren was going to give him away, not this time. But she couldn’t leave Las Vegas, and she knew that, even if she tried. “I can’t leave, can’t take him out of here. I lose time to Selina, and whenever she wants to go through, she goes somehow, and I can’t risk leaving him alone somewhere when that happens.” She took a deep breath, one that rattled in her chest. “I don’t have the slightest idea how to be a mother, and he doesn’t even know me.” She looked down at him. “I need to tell Luke. I promised him we’d talk tonight. After that, I don’t know, MK.” Wren reached out, and she squeezed MK’s fingers with her own. “Thank you,” she said, because there really weren’t any words for what MK had done, and they might still both pay the price for it. “If we were trailed, you didn’t know anything. You had no idea what I had planned. You think it’s really wrong.” Another shake of her head. “You should return the car, and you should let people see you bashing around Las Vegas, MK. Publicly. Really, very publicly.” It was a lot to ask, especially when MK looked like she might fall over at any minute. MK squeezed Wren’s fingers back just as tightly, and the fatigued upset was clear on her face. As pissed off as she was, all she wanted to do now was wave a wand to make everything better. But she couldn’t. Nothing would ever be okay, would it? The little boy laying between them might never have a normal life, and the two women surrounding him definitely wouldn’t. MK didn’t say that, however, opting to be as comforting to Wren as possible. “I’ll be here. I’ll always be here. If you need anything, don’t ever hesitate to ask, okay? You know that. Let Selina know to at least give me a head’s up, and I’ll watch him at least.” She nodded in agreement about telling Luke because that was priority number one at the moment. More than anyone they both knew, Luke need to know about everything. She pushed herself off the bed to stand. She wanted to stay with Wren and Gus, she did, but Wren was persistent as always. And she was probably right about covering tracks. There was no goddamn way MK wanted to go out, a rare occasion, but one that spoke of the harried and ill state she was in, but she would make a show. Just for Wren and this little boy. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, running cautious fingers through the boy’s hair again before leaning forward to press a kiss to Wren’s temple. “Okay? We’ll figure all of it out, just the two of us if we have to.” She couldn’t think of how Luke would react, but she would always be on Wren’s side. Offering Wren a sad twitch of the mouth, MK looked down at the little boy one more time before walking towards the door and heading to duck out of the duplex. |