mk robinson wants to be a star. (hitjackpot) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-05-11 03:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | catwoman, mary jane watson |
WHO MK & Wren
WHAT A plea to come home.
WHEN Tonight.
WHERE Passages, just outside the Gotham door.
WARNING Nothing too big.
The door to Gotham was open, and even from a distance it was obviously Wayne Manor that it led to. Gates extended from the sides of the panelling beside it, and the doors were tall, double doors, majestic and thick and expensive. So, Selina might have lied about the timing of the kick - just by a half hour or so. Maybe the kitty cat just made a mistake. Doubtful, but maybe. Beyond the door, a large, opulent, dark bedroom was visible. Definitely male, and bigger than any one room had a right to be. The bed was mussed, slept in, and Selina moved forward and leaned in the doorway, mindful of the barrier between the master bedroom at Wayne Manor and the dark, Passages hallway. She heard the footsteps before she saw anyone, and she knew there was only one set. Alright, maybe the Antihero had figured it out. But no, that red hair came into sight before the rest of the visitor did, and Selina actually groaned. “He thought this was the best option?” she called out, not caring if anyone else on that floor of the hotel heard her. “Really?” Because even she knew there was no way this was going to help the Antihero’s case any. “Tell me, Red, if someone you loved cheated on you, or if you thought they did, and they didn’t show up to tell you how wrong you were, what would you think?” It worried the kitty, that she was better at this than the people around her. Because she should never be better than anyone at anything other than stealing and destroying relationships. “Well,” Selina added, “at least I get to see what you look like when you aren’t puke drunk or making out with some woman on youtube.” She only knew the Las Vegas counterparts through whatever lens Blondie gave her - clips saved or viewed on the phone, emails, texts, voicemails. And Red? Red was a hellion, from what she’d seen. She straightened, Bruce Wayne’s robe loose around her feet, the sleeves going well past her fingers. “Did you tell Simon?” MK hadn’t been expecting Selina to be waiting in the doorway as she climbed the stairs to the fourth floor of Passages where the entrance to Gotham lay. She hadn’t expected anyone in the hotel, really, so late at night, so the voice caught her off-guard for a moment until eyes landed on the woman who was all curves and slink leaning against the door. And MK could see why men would like Catwoman then; she was basically every man’s fantasy rolled into one. But god did she like to tell other people how the world worked, and her snappy comment irritated the redhead immensely. “We thought it would be better this way,” MK snapped back, crossing her arms. Logically, Selina probably was right, but MK was in protective mode right now. She wanted to keep Wren away from the pain, and Luke was the cause of the pain. “He’s the reason she’s hiding out in Gotham, Selina. One wrong word from him could drive her right back in. If it were me, I wouldn’t even want to see the bastard. Love or not.” She pursed her lips because that right there told a lot about MK and how little she cared anymore. Or at least allowed herself to. MK let out a derisive snort at Selina’s observation. “Do I match the expectations? Most people say I do. She figures I’m out of control, I think.” But that wasn’t the matter at hand that night. The fight and whatever baggage, that couldn’t be the focus. Getting Wren to come out, to go home, that was the priority. The question about Simon earned Selina a challenging brow raise. “I thought the kitty was going to find out on her own. I sent him the file.” “You’re also not the kind of woman to pour her heart out all over a phone, Red,” Selina said, and she knew all about that, because whatever else Selina was, she was guarded, and she knew another screwed up, guarded kitty cat when she saw one. Sure, they lashed out differently - drinking and stealing - but it was still lashing out, and she had a feeling the little red kitten had as hard a time as she did letting anyone in. And like she’d told the Antihero, Blondie just wasn’t very smart, not when it came to machination. It was good, her having a friend like Red, if Red stuck around, that was. “Next time, don’t leave her alone when her life is falling into a million little shards,” she suggested. “We can take it. She’s not like us.” “I live out of control,” Selina said, another truth, and let MK make of that what she would. Sometimes looking in the mirror was hard, and the kitty cat didn’t like it better than anyone else did. She looked over her shoulder. “I know what out of control looks like. You’re not quite there yet, or you wouldn’t be standing here, sober.” She stepped away from the door. “I’m taking your word for it. Anyway, I’ll tell the Bruce the next time we have a heart-to-heart, and he’ll tell the Antihero, and the Antihero will call Simon, and they’ll make some terrible choice between them, because they’re little boys playing at being grown up men.” She shrugged. “If the Antihero had any balls, he wouldn’t have let you decide anything. Ready?” Standing there talking to someone who was supposed to be fictional could potentially do someone’s head in, but MK had seen stranger and spoken to worse. In that moment, honestly, she was curious about the Cat and wished she could get to know the woman a little more. Or at least pry into her mind. MK knew they were kindred spirits of sorts, she and Selina, and whether or not that was dangerous couldn’t be seen just yet. She stared at Selina for a moment, however, when she suggested MK not leave Wren again. Bewildered because when had this become her fault? “I didn’t--.” But she cut herself off. The argument would not be worth it, and maybe Selina had a point. Maybe. “I know, I know. I win the World’s Shittiest Best Friend Award, et cetera.” She couldn’t help the smile that curved up her lips. “Well, you are the more famous one of the two of us. I should take lessons from you, clearly.” The smile quickly turned down to a frown though, and MK rubbed one of her arms roughly. “I hope you’re wrong, Selina. They better not even fucking dare.” The last thing she and Wren needed were the boys going after Alexander right now. Sighing, she nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Selina didn’t think she was fictional, and she sure didn’t look fictional, standing there in Bruce Wayne’s robe and with a general attitude of displeasure riding on her shoulders. She tried to figure out if she’d be happier with someone like MK as a counterpart, but the kitty cat was pretty sure that would end up being a very ugly catfight. No, she was stronger than Blondie, and she was fine with that. She pushed away from the wall. “I hope I’m wrong too, but they haven’t impressed me so far,” she said of the boys in Las Vegas. Boys, all of them, and that’s why they ended up in these situations. If they just took their dicks by the hand and did what they needed to do, then life would be so much simpler. Maybe that’s what she liked about her Bat so much; he didn’t bend, no matter how much she pushed. “Are you a shitty friend? I wouldn’t know,” she said with a grin, because she really didn’t. She was just pushing buttons; that’s what Selina did. But then Selina was gone, one foot over the threshold and Wren was standing there. She was about to turn right back in, but the sight of MK stopped her for long enough that the door actually had a chance to close behind her, to morph back into Selina’s hotel room door, instead of the opulent entrance to Wayne Manor. “MK?” she asked, pale and worried, because this was Wren, and the first thing she assumed was that something had gone terribly wrong. Not that MK knew about Brielle, not that she knew about Luke. No, that something terrible had happened. She took a step forward, fear in her gray eyes and no ice on the surface, not just then. “What happened?” she asked, terror in soft khakis and a white shirt. “Is it Gus?” she asked, the panic of a mother in the grip of fingers on MK’s arm. She didn’t ask about Luke, not aloud, but it was intentional, not immediately saying his name. There was a quip waiting on MK’s lips, one of how shitty a friend she could be, but Selina stepped forward before it could come to fruition. And there stood Wren, broken and worried, which just shattered the redhead’s heart. Any of the lingering anger from their argument were deftly pushed to the side when Wren pressed her fingers firmly on her arm. “Wren,” she breathed, relieved that her friend hadn’t just turned around at the sight of her. MK shook her head. “No, no,” she reassured the blond, reaching up to squeeze the hand gripping her. “Gus is okay. Roger and I actually saw him a few days ago. No, I just--.” How could she start it without driving Wren immediately back into Gotham? “I wanted to check in on you, to see how you were doing, but I got Selina, who said you’d been behind the door for a few days straight. And then I called the suite, and they say you’d been missing appointments. I was worried, kitten.” The assurance that no one was hurt crashed over Wren like a wave on the sand, though the worry took a few minutes longer to leave her face. She had to convince herself of it first, but she didn’t think MK would lie about that, not about Gus being okay, and she eventually took a step back and slid her fingers slowly from beneath that reassuring squeeze. It wasn’t that she didn’t think MK would worry about her and come just for that reason alone, but she didn’t actually expect MK to check on her, not with how badly they had parted before their brief interaction in jail. She crossed her arms over her stomach, and she regarded her friend with an increasingly cool distance, something that had only strengthened since their shared time in jail. “I’m fine,” she assured the redhead. “It was just too quiet in the suite.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was an omission. There was no way MK knew, she told herself, attempting to salvage her pride. Even if Brielle went to Luke, even if they were together somewhere whispering about things, they surely wouldn’t have brought MK in. Her gaze went a touch colder, and her arms wrapped tighter around herself. That icy gaze cut through MK something fierce, but she straightened up, bucked up, letting her own arms fall to the side. It wouldn’t help to be aggressive now, she reminded herself, and she fought the urge to close the distance between them again. She shook her head though, closing her eyes with a sad smile that probably told Wren immediately that she knew more. More than she should have, probably. “I know it isn’t just that, Wren,” MK said, eyeing her friend warily. “I spoke to Brielle.” A quick pause. “She told me you found out. About she and Luke.” There was a lick of anger in her voice, something that might not help convince Wren that everything was in the past for Luke and Brielle, but she couldn’t help it. Pursing her lips, she risked a step forward. “Wren, I am so fucking pissed for you. I don’t even--that’s not the point. I talked to both of them. It was a year ago, there’s nothing going on now. Not that that excuses anything, not one fucking bit.” Wren knew that MK was going to start talking about it a heartbeat before the redhead actually began, and she almost turned right back around. She didn’t want to deal with this, didn’t want to face it, not on top of everything else. So Luke had sent her. She didn’t think Brielle did. It had to be Luke, no matter what she said, and it stung like old things from Seattle, the fact that he hadn’t come himself. She didn’t turn, though, and she didn’t crumble, though she did hear that tone in MK’s voice, the one that said MK didn’t believe this thing with Brielle and Luke was over either, and it just fed that particular belief in her own mind. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, still, and too cold, too calm, too ice. It was a careful distance, intentionally removed from the sharp edge of the pain that came with her heart shattering. “Luke lied to me. He lied to me about his past, about who he’d been with, about what his relationships had been. Brielle told me they decided together to lie to me, that they didn’t know how to tell me, so they decided together not to. That they’ve seen each other since she’s been here.” She shook her head, and she did take a step back then, fighting to maintain that false calm that threatened to smash into a million pieces at any moment. “I saw her, MK, asleep, with intimate pictures of him in her hand.” She shook her head, and she couldn’t explain the pictures, that there was nothing casual there, that Luke wouldn’t have let someone he wasn’t more involved in than he wanted to admit see his scars. MK would understand that particular thing, because she’d been there, she’d seen the bruises another boy hid from the world. “The last time I saw Brielle I was asking for help because I was eight months pregnant, and she helped me pack for Nevada instead.” Another shake of her head. “You aren’t going to convince me of anything, and I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice cracked, and her eyes went helplessly damp. “I can’t, MK.” MK knew Wren, knew her sometimes better than she knew herself, and she knew that one way or another this was not going to turn out okay. She bit back a lash of anger at the mention of Brielle owning pictures of Luke and keeping them, but that just fueled the anger bubbling inside her. The redhead knew about scars and intimacy with boys who went out at night to save the world, knew how different it was than just any old relationship. She felt wronged for Wren, and protective bestfriend mode was kicking in. The kind of mode where all the anger and coldness in the world she could have held towards Wren dropped at the tip of a hat because someone else had dared hurt her. “He wanted to come. He didn’t send me, I thought it would be better if you talked to him on your terms. He’s sorry, for the record, and promises nothing’s going on anymore. I don’t think he’d ever do that to you. But I know that doesn’t excuse them from lying to you. I know that.” The tears shattered MK’s heart, and she shot Wren a guilty look before reaching forward to wrap her thin fingers around one of Wren’s wrists with a squeeze. “They never should have lied to you like that, about something like this.” Wren just shook her head. No. “You don’t even believe that MK,” she said of the fact that nothing was going on, and her expression said she’d heard it in MK’s voice, that knowledge and anger. “And if he wanted to be here, he’d be here, regardless of what you said.” She laughed a little, and it was a mirthless laugh, something ice and chill and not suited to her. “No.” She shook her head one last time. “She’s in love with him; I saw it on her face. I don’t know what he feels for her, but he knew, MK.” There was a numb sort of resignation to the words. “He knew, and he didn’t tell me, and he even lied to me about the last time he’d been with someone. You don’t lie like that, not if there’s nothing to hide. And what do you think they talk about when they spend time together? The weather?” She pulled her wrist back, because she couldn’t give into it, not to the hugging or comfort she could see lurking in MK’s eyes. “No,” she repeated, convincing them both. “What do you want me to go back to? I can’t see Gus, and my lawyers say I probably won’t be able to get any kind of custody. So what happens then? No Luke. No Gus. What? Work? Alexander? Prison if I get convicted?” Fuck. MK was screwing up big time. At this point, she might have to knock Wren out and drag her out of the hotel herself. When Wren rebuked her touched, it stung, but wasn’t unexpected, and MK reached her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. And this, god, this was why she never allowed herself the consuming pain known as love, not since those five long years before when she lost the person who meant most to her. It never worked out well for anyone. Brielle loved Luke, and so did Wren, and MK knew in her heart of hearts that Luke loved Wren, but why did things have to be so complicated? Why did they hide it if it weren’t just something in the past? Wren’s own doubts fed into her own, but she couldn’t let her friend see that. Not now. Instead she kept her distance and let her hand fall, but the pressing was all in her voice. “You’re not going to get convicted, Wren, and you’re going to see Gus soon. Come back. Come back for me.” She sighed again, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry for everything I said and did, Wren. You can’t keep spending forever in Gotham though. Things don’t work that way. Fuck everything and everyone else, Wren. You can’t do this to yourself. It’s not fair to you.” Green eyes urged her to consider the offer. “We can figure it out. Come stay with me. If you want, that is.” Wren watched the doubts filter into MK’s eyes, even though her friend tried to hide it, and it just made the pain swirl around her belly in nauseating circles. She had to take a few long, gulped breaths and, as much as she wanted to turn and disappear, she knew it was better not to fight this. She didn’t have any confidence in the things MK said, about the conviction, about Gus. No, it was the apology that actually tipped things in MK’s favor. “This isn’t your fault. We can fight without the things that happen after being your fault, MK,” she said in that same dull and dead monotone. She didn’t know the suite had been lost, but she wouldn’t be surprised. She wondered, briefly, where Brielle had gone. And the wonder was chased away by the fact that Luke had probably taken care of it somehow. “Just for tonight,” she finally agreed. It wasn’t a promise to stay, but it was a promise to go, and to shower, and to check in with her lawyers. It was something. “Doesn’t mean I don’t feel guilty,” MK said with the tiniest smile because it was true. In the face of what was happening, she felt pretty shit about the things she had said to Wren the few weeks prior. Everything spiraled out of control, before and after, but maybe the two friends could find some even footing for a little while. “Tonight, okay. Yeah, I’ll take that.” The blonde’s monotonous tone and expression sparked up more worry in MK, but she buried that, too, as best she could. It was a small victory, and she could try to get her to stay a little longer tomorrow. Day by day, that was the best plan right now. |