Who: Luke (+ Gus) What: Narrative-ish. Where: Caesar's. When: The night after this. Warnings/Rating: None.
The night's shift seemed to stretch on into eternity, and even once he'd clocked his hours, he had a meeting with HR to discuss other internal employment opportunities. Luke had been a security guard with Caesar's for years, and he'd worked the same sort of job for years before, and while he otherwise might have been resigned to continuing on in the same damn rut for the next half of his life, finding out he had a son whom he might very well need to fight to gain custody of in the near future had turned his life upside-down in more ways than one. Now he was looking at apartments, better ones, where pimps and prostitutes didn't stalk the halls, and for that he needed money, which he didn't have all that much of right now.
Hence the interest in advancing his career, if it could be called that. He'd never done much with his university degree, unfortunately, but better late than never, right? If he could stay at Caesar's he would, for as long as possible, but he'd also begun applying at other hotels and casinos for various positions, all above what he was currently doing now, which was practically ground level. You couldn't go much lower. What he needed to do was go in the opposite direction.
It was late by the time he used his key to get into Wren's suite, a plastic bag in one hand and still clad in his work uniform. Luke was quiet as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, assuming Gus would be asleep, but Finch met him before he could get one step with an excited string of barks and a wagging tail; had the boy been sleeping, the dog never would have made so much noise. "Hey, boy," he greeted, giving his dog a fond scratch behind the ears. Even though Gus needed him more, he still missed having Finch around.
There was no immediate sign of the boy, but Luke wasn't surprised, not after learning about the shouting match MK and Wren had. "Hm. You don't know where Gus is, do you? I have a present for him, but I guess if he's not here to say hello..." Even as he trailed off, a telltale rustling came from beneath the bed, and he couldn't help smiling. Okay, so maybe he didn't have a lot of experience with kids, but he'd been a little boy once himself, and he always had liked to observe the people around him. A second later a small head poked out from around the corner, big gray eyes watching him from beneath a mop of brown hair, and Luke smiled. "There you are. You remember me, don't you?"
It took another few moments, but eventually Gus nodded. "Luke," he said, crawling out from his hiding spot on all fours to settle beside Finch.
He had checked in a couple times before, but he knew he would have to be patient with the boy; right now he was still scared, but soon he'd come to recognize him on sight and, with time, would cease to view him as a stranger. "That's right. You know Wren, right? The nice lady who lives here? We're pretty good friends, her and I, and she asked me to check in on you when she's not here." It was the truth, albeit a skewed version of it, but he couldn't exactly lay everything out right now. He was far too young. After a pause, during which Gus regarded him silently, he couldn't resist adding, "Is it okay with you if I stay for a bit, Gus?"
A painful amount of hope rode on the little boy's answer, and he tugged on Finch's collar as his small face screwed up in thought. "Okay," he decided finally, with tiny certainty, and Luke forced a smile to cover up his relief.
"Okay," he echoed. He'd told Wren he would see how the boy was after the argument, but he was too afraid of doing something wrong to ask directly about it; Gus seemed well enough, if a little wary, and while he did look like he'd been crying at one point, there was no sign of tears now. "Want to see what I have in the bag?" Gus nodded, releasing his hold on Finch to inch closer, and Luke sat crossed-legged on the floor in encouragement.
Half an hour later there was a wide variety of plastic animals strewn all over the floor, ranging in size. His previous wariness forgotten, Gus was in the middle of making his giraffe attack Luke's lion, despite the rules of the animal kingdom, bellowing like a foghorn all the while; the kid had asked what sound a giraffe made and, at a complete loss for the answer, Luke had made up some ridiculous noise just to placate him. Finch was curled up a little ways away, watching, but Gus' laughter had successfully placated him.
Luke couldn't remember the last time he'd been this happy, and as Gus beamed up at him, plastic animal clutched in his fist, he resolved that he would call Thomas and ask for his help. Tomorrow, he told himself. He'd do it tomorrow. No matter how scared he was, he had to do it; he couldn't bear to lose this little boy to the system if something should happen to Wren. No, he'd talk to Thomas, and he'd beg if he had to; anything that was necessary to ensure his son was kept safe.
"Be the ewephant, Luke." Gus' voice broke him out of his reverie, and he looked down to see the boy tugging on his shirt sleeve, gray eyes expectant. He laughed, and he ruffled the little boy's hair, which earned a very childish nose wrinkle which was so familiar it ached.
"Okay, okay," he said. "I'll be the elephant." Gus beamed again, pleased, and Luke used every bit of resolve he had left to keep his eyes from watering.