Who: Drake and Christian What: An interrupted bar fight followed by drinking. And talking. Where: A bar. When: Recently. (Before this and this.) Warnings: A little violence, but none other than that.
It was Friday night and Christian needed a drink. Usually the guys from the office would come out with him, but this week they all apparently had things planned. Family things. Well, Christian, being the single man (with one cat) had nothing to do, and after a long day he had decided to go out anyway. He didn’t need the men from the office to have a nice drink to himself. After all, he had spent a large portion of his life alone, so he was comfortable walking to the regular pub and sitting at the bar alone.
He ordered himself a beer to start with, and he sipped it slowly, keeping to himself as he always did. His curious eyes scanned the room, some faces familiar from previous weeks but most of them were new. Despite his innocent scanning, he saw movement in the corner of his eye and he saw, what seemed to be, a woman waving at him. He stared at her carefully for a long moment, first to make sure that she was waving at him and then trying to tell if he knew her. It didn’t seem like it; long blonde hair, attractive curves, and very nice eyes... no, for some reason, Christian felt as if he would recognize this woman. He gave her a politely curious smile and he sent an innocent little wave back, before hell broke loose.
A man had come his way and, before Christian had realized what was happening, a massive hand had violently pushed his shoulder, the force of it knocking him clean off his bar stool. He hit the ground with a solid thud and looked up with a dizzy expression, hearing something come out of his attackers mouth about ‘fiance’ and what not before he was grabbed by his shirt and dragged up to his feet. His eyes were filled with a feared expression and, before the brute could do much damage to him, Christian quickly threw his knee, digging it deeply into the mans stomach. It hardly did much, but it was enough to make him let go, and Christian quickly scrambled behind a table, the rest of the people in the bar quickly backing out of the way.
“N-Now wait just a mom- MOMENT!” He quickly dodged a swing that was thrown by the man and he stumbled backwards, tripping over a chair and scrambling back to his feet before he tried to get away from the much larger gentleman. “I- I am very confused as to why you’re trying to- is that REALLY NECESSARY?” Christian had to dodge again when a chair was thrown at him. “I believe you have some suppressed rage you have to confront!” He didn’t understand why but this only seemed to get the man angrier, and it wasn’t long before Christian ran out of places to run and was lifted by the front of his shirt, his back slammed against the bar wall. He winced, preparing himself for the oncoming assault.
Drake was accustomed to drinking on his own, and on nights like these he was perfectly content to settle down in a corner booth with plenty of beers and a basket of fries to pass the time. He’d noticed the pretty blonde in question when he came in, but hadn’t paid much attention to the poor guy whose only mistake was waving at her until the girl’s boyfriend or whatever decided to go on a rampage. He looked up along with everyone else in the bar, watching the obviously mismatched confrontation with the kind of horrified awe all bystanders had. There was no way this was going to end well, not if someone didn’t intervene, and it quickly became clear that no one was going to.
Oh, what the hell. He hadn’t been in a decent scuffle in a while, and at least he could handle himself better than this guy could. Drake slid out of the booth and got to his feet just as the chair was thrown, pushing through the useless crowd of observers as things went from bad to worse. Perfect timing.
“Hey, asshole.” He approached the two before the bigger man could take a swing, grinning brightly as though he hadn’t just interrupted a potentially ugly fight and brought it on himself instead. “Someone didn’t love you enough as a kid, huh?” That got the man’s attention away from the other one, and as soon as Drake saw the guy’s hold on the shirt loosen he acted, throwing all his weight into a punch to the bigger man’s jaw, followed by a shove to get him away from his previous target.
Christian had jumped almost as hard as he would have if he had been struck when Drake had spoken so loudly, but he turned cautiously to look in just enough time to see the man hitting the large monster that was holding him against the wall. He was dropped abruptly and he felt the wind leaving his lungs, left gasping for air when he hit the ground before he looked up. He didn’t know who this stranger was, but he would feel terrible if the man who attacked him harmed the man who saved his face.
He staggered to his feet and he stared at the larger mans back, seeing him moving to swing again before Christian suddenly grabbed the brutes elbow. I’m going to get myself killed... He tugged hard, forcing the large man to turn and face him and he stared up at him with a mixture of shock and fear in his eyes, before he swung hard and landed his fist directly against the man’s jaw. He gave a breathless sound before he said aloud, “Sir, I think that there has been a misunderstanding! So I’m just going to go now!” He moved quickly before stopping and he turned to look at the stranger who had helped him, grabbing his elbow before he said urgently, “I suggest you leave also before somebody calls the police, or he kills one of us, whichever comes first!”
Drake didn’t expect to come out of the fight without some bruises at the very least, but when the adrenaline kicked in none of that really seemed to matter. The guy had size on his side, but that could also be a disadvantage. It made his blows easier to avoid. He assumed the other guy would take off or find somewhere to lay low until his attacker had been taken care of, so he was more than a little surprised when the bigger man’s attention was averted and a fist came out of nowhere to connect with his jaw.
He actually laughed, impressed despite himself. Coming back to fight instead of running took some nerve and between the two of them they were more likely to take the guy down. Drake added in a low punch to the man’s abdomen just to buy some time, and though part of him was tempted to stay and see this to the end the guy tugging on his elbow had a point. The last thing he wanted was to spend the night in jail or even have to face the cops at all, even if he wasn’t worried about being killed.
“Good point. I’m not so fond of cops.” The bigger man was beginning to straighten up and they didn’t have time to stand around and mull things over. “C’mon,” he added, assuming the man he’d saved from having his face beaten in would follow through the gathered crowd and outside the bar, away from the entrance where there were more shadows and less light. After a few tense moments Drake decided that the brute wouldn’t follow, and he turned to the other man. “So what’d you do to piss him off?”
Christian’s face seemed to melt in relief when Drake had agreed to go with him, and he followed the stranger willingly through the mess of useless onlookers who were now only getting in their way. He took a deep breath when they reached the door, and he let the cool air from outside fill his lungs before he turned to finally face the man who had come to his aid. “I do not know! One moment a woman was waving at me, I think that she had mistaken me for someone else, and the next, he was on top of me! I believe he needs a STRONG talking to in manners!” Christian had added the last part with a tone of disbelief and anger, his heart still racing from what had occurred.
He glanced down at his aching hand, his body so unused to physical violence, and after deciding that it wasn’t broken he placed it on his waist to take a deep, calming breath. “I am certainly never going back there again!” He finally looked back at Drake, giving himself a moment to compose before he continued. “Thank you very much for your help in there. I do not think that I would have walked out unharmed if it weren’t for you.”
Drake leaned against the cool brick of the building, making a valiant effort to keep from bursting into laughter again. Obviously this guy hadn’t been to many bars. “Yeah, not sure a… ‘strong talking-to’ is the way to go. He doesn’t seem like the listening type.” He tilted his head to the side, realizing that his disbelief was genuine. Huh. “You’ve never seen a bar fight before? These guys overreact all the time. Next time make sure she’s waving at you before waving back.” He grinned, unconcerned. The two of them had scraped by with minor bruises at the most, which was success in his eyes. The bad ones ended with broken bones.
“No problem. Hell, I should be thanking you too. You could’ve taken off and left me to deal with that asshole on my own.” He paused before extending a hand. “I’m Drake, by the way.”
Christian frowned a little when Drake had pointed out that the man who had picked a fight did not seem like the listening type, but he nodded to show that he agreed. It seemed that the man who attacked him was doomed to a life of brutal rudeness. How terrible. At the mention of this being Christians first bar fight, however, he gave a bit of a sheepish smile with a crooked shrug. “Well I usually keep to myself, fighting is not a past time of mine and that is something that I am openly proud of.” He smiles softly when he says it, and he willingly takes Drake’s hand when it is offered. “Christian Westley. It is very nice to meet you, Drake.” He smiled a bit before letting go, his hands slipping into his pockets casually. “And I certainly couldn’t just leave you there, if you had gotten harmed it would have been my doing!” He had looked back at the bar down the street, his adrenaline having finally returned to normal and his breathing even and controlled. He slowly started to frown. “I think the worst part about that was that I was unable to finish my drink...” His eyes moved to Drake again.
Christian didn’t have many friends. And he enjoyed to keep it that way, the less people he continuously saw on a regular basis, the less people would know how terribly awkward he was in social situations. But he had a set of morals that could not be ignored, and with a soft smile he continued. “If you have no where else to go for a few hours, perhaps we can find a place where I can buy you a drink of thanks. If, of course, you are up to it...” Did that sound weird? Did guys do that? Go out for drinks? He did with his coworkers but that was a group of men, who were obligated to invite Christian since his office was directly in between theirs. Well, the worst thing that could happen is that he could say no and label me as creepy. And it wouldn’t be the first time.
It was pretty obvious that fighting wasn’t something Christian did on a regular basis, but Drake couldn’t help thinking a lesson or two couldn’t hurt even if it was just about how to get away instead of actually winning a fight. “Nice to meet you too, Christian.” He let his hands drop back to his side, lamenting the loss of all that beer and food. Going back in would just be plain stupid, but he’d planned on being out a lot later than this and less sober to boot. Damn.
A lack of friends was something the two of them had in common. Kyle was busy acting as the chief of police, Eli was more of a colleague, and Rorschach was in jail. It didn’t require that much consideration, really. Christian seemed decent enough and more normal than most people he knew, albeit slightly on the oblivious side. “Sure. I wasn’t gonna head home anyway.” It didn’t seem that weird to him, and he didn’t dwell on it. “You know any good places around here? I think I saw a couple up the road.”
Christian tried to not make it too obvious that he was surprised at how easy that was. Really? He just had to ask people if they wanted to get a drink and they would agree? ...Perhaps Drake was a special case. He didn’t sit there and think about it for too long, however, before he glanced up the dimly lit road in effort to see somewhere to go. “Not precisely, I’m afraid.” Christian said it casually but, despite that, he began to walk. There was what looked like a pub just down the road, and he found no harm in possibly seeing if they were any good.
“I go there with a few co-workers, other than that I don’t really go out much.” He gave a little shrug, and it was obvious in the way that Christian spoke that he was very used to his life being this way. He paused as a few questions began to pass through his mind, but he glanced down at his slightly red hand from hitting the man, and his eyes moved over to Drake to see if he was following. “When you hit that gentleman in the bar...” He frowned slightly. “Didn’t you hurt your hand? I don’t think I hit him as hard as you did and my hand is a bit stiff now. Maybe I did it wrong...”
Well, walking it was. Drake hadn’t taken his own car on bar nights ever since that one time he’d come out to find a couple of drunken idiots smashing the windows. It was worth the extra money for a cab or a little distance to walk for the sake of keeping his car intact.
He gave Christian a long look in an attempt to figure out what he might do for a living, but since he’d never actually held down a ‘real’ job himself his guesses were limited. “Where do you work?” Drake realized it would probably mean he’d be asked the same question in return, but he’d never hid his involvement with EIT. He kept pace with the other man and glanced down at the hand in question, unable to keep back a laugh. Definitely an amateur. “Nah, not really. There’s a right way and a wrong way to hit someone. It all starts with the fist.”
“...Well I obviously used my fist...” Christian had muttered it under his breath, obviously a bit embarrassed that he was confused about hitting a person in the first place. Some would say that he was a lover and not a fighter, but really, Christian wasn’t a lover either. He just wasn’t a fighter. He continued his way down the road with Drake, his eyes moving away from his aching hand to face his company politely as he spoke. “I sell life insurance.” It was the first time that someone had ever asked Christian what he did, and the first time he had actually stated his occupation aloud to a stranger.
My my, that sounded much more boring than he had hoped.
“Perhaps now you understand why I don’t hit people often.” Despite himself, Christian gave a crooked little smile at his own naivety. He was used to it by now. “What do you do for a living, Drake? Apparently something that has you quite familiar with punching large men. You seemed to know what you were doing.” He had raised an eyebrow, curiously, as he opened the door for Drake to the pub, music and laughter filling the street from the tiny door. “I do not condone violence. But it looked as if you had practice.”
Drake barely managed to suppress a laugh and nodded, doing his best to appear somewhat interested even though life insurance had to be one of the most boring things out there. Who would want to spend their lives selling it? No wonder Christian seemed so naïve; his life was obviously lacking in any real excitement. This bar fight was probably the most interesting thing to happen to him in a while, and even though it wasn’t right to make assumptions, he had a feeling he wasn’t very far off. “Huh,” he managed. “How’d you get into that?”
He grinned, no longer feeling like he had to hide it if Christian himself recognized his own inexperience. “Me? I’m--” Drake was fully prepared to describe what he did before he realized something. He had no idea whether or not this guy was a Creation, and if he wasn’t that meant describing his job would lead to a whole lot of issues. Saying he hunted people who abused their magic powers would make him sound like a crazy person at best. Damn. “Sort of like a bounty hunter,” he finished with a shrug. “You know, catching fugitives and delivering them to the arms of the law.” It wasn’t that far off, and if he ever found out that Christian did come from Musings he’d elaborate then. “Sometimes punching is involved,” he said over his shoulder, entering the pub and looking around. There were drinks, a decent crowd, and no sign of assholes with anger issues; good enough for him. He found an empty table near the wall and sat, leaning back in his chair. “When I said it starts with the fist, I meant how you make one. There’s a right way and a wrong way.”
Christian looked at Drake casually when he asked how selling life insurance was and, although he saw the smile on the mans face, he didn't connect the fact that Drake was probably smiling at his disgustingly boring job. "Oh! Well it's quite nice, you meet a lot of people!" Really, it wasn't until Christian started talking about life insurance that he was realizing how very dull he sounded. And it only got worse when Drake explained what he did for a living. "...A bounty hunter?" Well that is a bit more entertaining than selling life insurance. ... Unless he hunts life insurance agents. Then my job is much more interesting than what I previously thought... He watched the man in an almost awed silence as he walked into the pub, and Christian followed closely after.
He took his seat across from Drake and, despite all of the questions he wanted to ask this strange man about his occupation, they had all momentarily left his head when he heard his new aquaintence speak. "There is a wrong way to make a fist?" Christian paused when he said that aloud and he suddenly looked at Drake in disbelief, as if he caught the man red-handed in a filthy lie. "Very funny, Drake." His voice was very serious. As if he didn't find this funny at all. "But I very highly doubt that you can make a fist WRONG. It is not that complicated."
As if to prove his point, Christian rested his elbow on the scrubbed surface of the table and he curled his fingers promptly into a fist. And it wasn't very good. "There. See? I only have five fingers, Drake, how many possible ways could there be to curl them?"
Drake had some questions of his own about Christian’s job, most along the lines of whether or not he’d thought about doing something a little less dull, even though he didn’t have much right to judge anyone else’s life choices. “Yeah, I… bet you do.” Keeping the sarcasm out of his voice wasn’t easy, so he tried a different approach. “Sounds like a good job. Bounty hunting doesn’t pay much and the people you meet, well, they’re not very friendly.” It was a bit of an understatement, but he was willing to bet no one tried to kill life insurance agents.
He raised his eyebrows, momentarily surprised by Christian’s disbelief. Did he really think he was kidding? Apparently so, since the fist he made was bound to land him with a broken hand if he kept making it like that. “You’d be surprised,” he said dryly. “It’s not complicated, but people make really basic mistakes. See?” Drake held out his own hand, curling it into a fist the way his dad had taught him as a kid. “You keep your thumb on the outside, but don’t hold it straight up. Bend it. Then when you actually throw your punch, lead with your first two knuckles – and keep it tight.” He demonstrated, though with nothing to hit but the air it was minimally effective. “Trust me. You try that on a guy and your hand won’t hurt as much, but it will hurt him.”
Christian stared onward as Drake explained what he meant, and Christian felt an odd sensation sweep over him as the new knowledge of how to make a fist was being taught. This was certainly different... usually when Christian stated that he didn’t understand something, the person that he was speaking to stared at him as if he had sprouted an extra limb. The concept that Drake was taking the time to actually explain this to him not only took him by surprise, but it made him smile a little. He knew he was clueless, but at least someone was showing him what he was clueless about.
“I see...” He said it in a way that showed just how surprised he was that there were different ways to make a fist, but he instinctively curled his hand in the way that Drake did and he looked down at it. “That seems to make much more sense, yes-” He was interrupted by a woman with a pad and pen, and he had ordered two beers, planning to keep his promise of buying Drake his first drink to thank him for saving Christian from such a sticky situation. His attention turned back to his new acquaintance when he finished ordering. “Do you want anything else? And let us just hope that I don’t have to use this new knowledge anytime in the near future.”
Patience wasn’t usually one of Drake’s strong points, but for some reason he really didn’t mind explaining something he viewed as common knowledge. Christian seemed decent enough and he liked how the other man had stuck around to hold his own against someone who was clearly stronger, even though it could’ve ended badly for both of them. He could probably stand to loosen up a bit, but he sold life insurance for a living. It wasn’t too surprising. In fact, there was something about his name that seemed oddly familiar – at first he’d dismissed it, but the more he thought about it the more it bothered him. Usually when he recognized someone in any sense it wasn’t a coincidence; his memory was good that way.
“Oh-- no, beer’s fine.” He flashed a grin at the waitress before she turned and left to get their drinks. “As long as pretty blonde girls stop mistaking you for someone else, I think you’ll be fine. But at least you’ll know what to do if you need to.” Drake paused for a moment before seemingly making a decision and deciding to go for it. If he was wrong, well, he’d claim mistaken identity. “This might sound a little crazy, but did you lose a cat during that rainstorm we had a while back?”
“Yes, well, I’m not expecting that to happen again any time soon.” Christian actually broke a small smile when he spoke, giving a crooked little half-shrug as he leaned back. “Pretty blonde girls very rarely wave at me, as you can see. Hence why I had never found myself in a situation such as that before.” The idea of it amused him. The concept of a pretty woman being interested in him was about as foreign as the concept of him getting into a bar fight in the first place. Tonight was the first night both of those happened, and he didn’t expect them to happen again for a very long time.
He had paused at Drake’s question, however, and he nodded, giving another little smile. “Yes, actually. Jimmy had disappeared but I had found him.” Along with a young street boy who ate all of my food. “Had you replied to my ad?” He gave an embarrassed little frown. “I’m sorry, I have a terrible memory, Drake.”
Now that was sad. Drake had met his fair share of women in bars, which was half the fun of going in the first place aside from the booze. Christian obviously didn’t have much experience with picking up women, but hadn’t any of his coworkers tried to fix that? Friends had each other’s backs and he’d played wingman more than once over the years. “Let me ask you something. Say that guy hadn’t tried to beat your face in when the blonde waved at you. Would you have gone over and talked to her?” Even if she hadn’t been waving at him specifically, it would’ve been easy to spin the situation in his favour regardless. Easy if you knew what you were doing, at least.
The name Jimmy struck another familiar chord. This was definitely the C. Westley on the forums, which meant he was a Creation. “Right, Jimmy. Glad to hear you found him.” Even if cats were strange little things who managed to get themselves in impossible places. He was about to answer when the waitress returned with their drinks, and he took a sip of beer before speaking. “Yeah. I was the one who said cats had this stare like they could see into your soul.” Drake grinned and shook his head. “You told me I should try talking a doctor.”
Castiel seemed to pause at Drake’s question and he tried to think about what he would have done if he hadn’t been interrupted when that woman waved at him. Just the thought of it was enough to make his cheeks burn a bit, but he shrugged awkwardly, and he nodded to the waitress as he took his beer. “I don’t know.” He admitted weakly. “I would have waved back at her, I suppose. And then gotten myself another drink before I walked home.” He sipped his beer, obviously avoiding eye contact as he spoke before Drake reminded Christian who he was.
“Oh.” He looked up, a bit sheepishly, and he gave an amused laugh. “Well I stand by it. Jimmy is far from a soul-seer, and you, my friend, are paranoid. So i stand by what I said.” He flashed Drake a grin, slowly becoming more comfortable around him. “You need to see a doctor.”
Drake stifled a sigh and came to the conclusion that his co-workers probably weren’t any more experienced with women than Christian was. Okay, so ‘I sell life insurance’ wasn’t the best opening line and definitely wouldn’t win him any points, but he could bend the truth somehow to make it work in his favour. Trying to help a guy you just met pick up women was definitely bordering on weird territory, though. Unless it counted as just friendly advice. He’d never been overly concerned with proper social procedures. “Next time you go out with your co-workers or whatever, try talking to a girl. Just pick one and see how it goes,” he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world to do, even if he felt like he was back in high school (when he’d bothered to show up in the first place.)
He gave him a look over his beer, but it was obvious the other man wasn’t being serious and he barely managed to swallow his mouthful before laughing. “Paranoia is an exaggeration. Got any recommendations for a doctor or should I start asking around?” For a guy who sold life insurance and didn’t know how to throw a punch, Christian wasn’t so bad.
Christian wasn’t sure what he was more amused by, the fact that Drake thought he would ever have the confidence to approach a woman, or that he would have the confidence to approach a woman in front of his co-workers. So he laughed at both, shaking his head and sipping his beer when his laughter subsided. This was different, and new, but he enjoyed it. Despite how many times Christian went out with his co-workers, he rarely laughed, and it was usually forced. Drake’s obliviousness to Christian’s level of obliviousness made for good entertainment, however. “I don’t even know where I would start, Drake. What would I even say?” He put on a straight face and stared at Drake, in complete seriousness. “Hello ma’am, my name is Christian Westley, and I couldn’t help but notice that you are sitting alone at a bar. Seeing as that is a sign that you are looking for a mans interest, I would like to state that I am a man. And I am interested.”
He cocked an eyebrow before he leaned back again. “Now, call me foolish, but even I feel as if that seemed a bit too awkward to put into action.” He sipped his beer again before he smirked in his glass. “And I wouldn’t go around asking for a doctor to help you with your cat paranoia problems, Drake. You might get approached by the wrong kind of doctor.”
In reality Drake probably wasn’t the best person to be advising anyone on the subject of women considering his track record (or lack thereof, depending on how you looked at it) of relationships, but he considered himself successful enough. “Women, my friend, are not a different species even if they might seem like it sometimes. They’re people.” The fact that Christian managed to get through his spiel with a straight face was enough to make him laugh, and the mental image of him actually testing it out just made it even better. “Nah, that’s way too direct. You’ll end up coming off as desperate.”
He leaned back in his chair and took a swig of beer. “Subtlety is key. Act interested without crossing the creepy line, and don’t come right out and say you’re interested.” He’d have his work cut out for him, but for some reason or another Drake decided to help the guy out. He had a lot to learn. “All you need is practice. Trust me.” The comment about the doctors made him raise his eyebrows, but he knew Christian wasn’t serious.“You have experience with the wrong kind of doctors?”
Christian looked at Drake in disbelief when he was told that women were just people. Well, of course they were people. Terrifying, confusing, and intimidating people. He took a long sip of his beer, his nervous eyes glancing around the pub before he looked back at Drake and he muttered, only half-kidding, “That’s easy for you to say, but when put into action I could very possibly get myself killed. If you haven’t noticed yet, I am not the ‘subtle’ type. Mostly because I do not know how to be.” He set his beer down and he shrugged crookedly. “I had always kept to myself at home, and I do the same now. It’s a gift, and a curse.”
He tilted his head in curiosity before he cracked a soft smile. “Of course not, my experience with doctors is perfectly normal, perhaps because I’m not the paranoid person here. So what about you?” He finished off his beer, and glanced around for the waitress so he could order another. “You seem knowledgeable in fighting AND women. How does one acquire such skills, as yourself?”
He made the unfortunate mistake of laughing while taking a swig of beer, which resulted in a briefly uncontrollable coughing fit. “Now you’re just being dramatic. Talking to a woman won’t get you killed even if you do make an idiot out of yourself. Just make sure she doesn’t have a jealous boyfriend around.” Yeah, Drake had some unfortunate experience with that type. He didn’t find it hard to believe that Christian kept to himself – there was nothing wrong with having pets, but who named their cat Jimmy? “So? You can learn to be subtle. I’m sure Jimmy is great company, but cats aren’t a substitute for, you know, actual human interaction.”
Drake shook his head with a mock sigh. “Not paranoid. Careful. There’s a difference.” He finished his own beer a moment later, setting it aside and shrugging. “My dad taught me how to fight. As for women, well, that was trial and error.”
For some odd reason, watching Drake laugh and then choke on his beer only made Christian laugh, and his rare smile seemed to find its way to his face again. It seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. “I disagree. In several ways, speaking to a woman could get me killed. She could have a boyfriend overlooking her every move. She could also have a small pocket knife in her purse in which she will use to stab me in unfortunate places. Or, worst of all, she could have a boyfriend overlooking her every move AND a small pocket knife in her purse in which she will use to stab me in unfortunate places. These things could happen, Drake.” He gave the man a warning look, one that said You really should be more careful of these things, before he sipped his second beer and he looked around the place. It was becoming more and more crowded the later it got, but their corner was still relatively safe from noise and other bothersome things.
“You’re father taught you to fight?” He paused and tilted his head... how curious. Christian didn’t learn anything from his father, probably because he was never around when Christian was home. “What else did he take time to teach you as a child?”
Drake’s grin faltered when he realized the other man was actually serious, and he gave him a long look that could only be described as incredulous. Thinking cats were creepy things with weird eyes was normal; worrying that women might stab you with a small pocket knife, now that was paranoia. “You know the best thing about bars? There’s a lot of single women around. They’re not that hard to find.” He shook his head. “As for the pocket knife thing… you really need to relax a little. You’re starting to sound a little paranoid yourself.” He wasn’t too concerned with how busy the place was getting, so long as no one gave them any trouble.
Fathers were a tricky subject for him, and he took a swig of beer to buy himself time to think of how to tread around the topic without going into detail. “Taught me a lot about cars when I was a kid.” Drake decided to leave out the mention of firearms. “I owe my taste in music to him too.” He shrugged. “What about your father?”
Christian shrugged absently when Drake asked him about his father, his eyes set on the beer in his hand. “He is a good man. From what I know.” He paused and gave a weak smile, his eyes lifting again to casually scan the floor of the pub. There were more people now and he casually watched a man attempting to interact with a woman, mostly for personal amusement than anything else. “My father wasn’t around very much after my mother passed away when I was young. But when he was around he had no problem giving orders. He usually knew what was best.” Christian gave a little smile as he remembered the man. Or, at least, what little there was to remember. “Most of my raising was done by a tutor. She was a good woman.” His eyes moved to Drake again and he cracked a very faint smile. And I am not paranoid. Just.. cautious.”
He set his beer down, resting his arms on the table as he studied Drake. “Does talking about your father make you uncomfortable?”
Drake had a bit of a blind spot when it came to his own father, often torn between justifying his faults and realizing there was some truth to his doubts. Still, at least he’d been there even after becoming a single parent – most of the time, at least. “Fathers always know best,” he commented with a short laugh. His dad’s orders were more along of the lines of ‘watch your brother’, or at least they had been for a while, but he understood the feeling. “A tutor? Were you home schooled?” He didn’t usually ask a lot of questions and especially not with strangers, but he figured Christian wouldn’t offer up details if he didn’t want to talk about something. When he wanted to avoid a subject, well, he made it clear that he wanted to avoid it. Most of the time people caught on.
He shifted in his chair, absently observing the newly crowded bar before replying. “I’m not used to talking about him,” he explained with a shrug. “Family’s usually something I keep to myself.”
Christian actually gave a little scoff when Drake had stated that fathers knew best, and he took a rather large sip from his beer before setting it down in the small dark ring of moisture that it formed on the table. “Depends on what they’re talking about. Sometimes they know less than you.” His voice was calm but there was a look of annoyance in his eyes, and he welcomed the change of subject.
“Originally I had gone to public school. However, after realizing that it wasn’t for me it was decided that I would be tutored at home, yes.” By not being for him, Christian had meant that he was continuously bullied in school, but he didn’t feel that Drake would be interested in that. “It made things easier for me. My tutor was a wonderful woman, she had a lot to do with raising me also, after my mother had passed.” He cracked a soft smile. “She was the only thing I missed when I left home.” He sipped his drink casually. “Did you have anyone like that? A tutor I mean?”
Drake hadn’t been entirely serious with that particular comment, but it was obvious that Christian missed the sarcasm and took it a little too seriously. He took a sip of beer and shrugged, deciding it was better to let the subject change instead of pushing something neither of them really wanted to talk about.
Public school hadn’t really been for him either, but Drake suspected that their reasons were very different. He just hadn’t had any interest in school; the classes bored him and he didn’t have the patience to sit in a desk all day, never mind the fact that he felt ages older and more mature than his classmates. Their lives were shallow and self-absorbed compared to his. “Yeah, public school sucked. I never had a tutor, though.” He laughed a little. “I wasn’t big on school. I got my GED and that was good enough for me.”
"Your GED? Yes, it would have been nice to stop there." Christian smiled softly at the thought of never having to bother with something that was as trivial as university. "You didn't miss much. More lectures about the same things in greater detail. I'm afraid to say that University was quite a waste of money and time." He spoke the truth, since his degree didn't mean much in Humanity in the first place. He could always have something forged but he didn't need to at this point.
Finishing his second beer Christian frowned and glanced over at Drake. "Do not be insulted but I am not sure how much longer I can stay. I'm afraid for the welfare of my apartment." He seemed a bit annoyed when he said it but he had no one to blame but himself. And if given the choice again, he wouldn't have made any different decisions. "There was a boy that I had found and helped a few weeks ago. My ability is to heal." He added the last part on as an after thought. This man was on the forums so he was a creation also, correct? However, Christian's tone got lower when he spoke of it. He wasn't one to flaunt what he could do, especially around a group of drunken strangers.
"He had poor living conditions so I opened my home to him. I have no problem letting him stop by for food and shelter but I forgot to lock my bedroom door." At first, Christian wasn't sure as to why he was sharing this with Drake, but then again, why not? This was the longest conversation he had with anyone in a very long time. "I keep my valuables in there. Just to make sure he doesn't take them."
Drake knew he never would have had the patience for anything beyond high school, even if there had been something he wanted to study in the first place. But there hadn’t been, and it was too late to regret the kind of life he’d chosen for himself now. “Really? That makes me feel better.” He grinned. “I guess it works for some people, but not everyone.”
He waved off the implication that he might be insulted, taking another sip of beer before he spoke. “So you healed this boy and let him stay in your apartment?” His voice lowered to match Christian’s, since they didn’t need word of a ‘healer’ spreading around the bar like wildfire. “That’s pretty generous of you, but locking up your valuables is probably a good idea. Can’t be too careful. Is this boy like us or like them?” He gestured around at the others, who he assumed were all human even if there weren’t any physical differences to set them apart.
Christian nodded when Drake had told him that locking his items up was a good idea, but he still frowned as a sense of guilt twisted at him. “I know that it was a wise thing to do, I still feel somewhat bad that I did it though. I’m judging the boy before knowing him just because he lives on the streets.” He explained it with a soft frown and he glanced around at the several other people, some who had seemed to have started dancing to the mediocre bar music, before his attention fell back to Drake. “He’s definitely like us.” It was the first time Christian referred to himself as something other than what these people considered ‘normal’, but it seemed fitting to him.
“I was looking for my cat when I found him in an alley with a broken arm. When I tried to help him he started to panic, but he didn’t speak he...” He paused, trying to think of a way to explain what had happened as he pressed a finger against his temple. “He thought it, and I heard it in my head. As if I could hear his thoughts but he couldn’t hear mine. It was the first time I had experienced something like that.” He frowned before sipping his drink and he gave a tired sigh. “I had brought him back to my apartment to heal his arm and feed him, and I allow him to stop by when he needs it, but I have to admit, the whole thought-hearing thing is...” he hesitated and, for lack of a better word, he finished with, “creepy.”
“Better safe than sorry.” Drake saw trust as something that was earned, and that wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He remained oblivious to any connections even when Christian confirmed that the boy was a Creation; there were tons of them around, and not all could afford a place to live. It was a sad yet basic truth of life.
Once he mentioned being able to hear the boy’s thoughts, though, Drake nearly spat out his beer from sheer surprise. “You could hear his thoughts?” There were a lot of Creations but there weren’t a lot of abilities like that. He only knew one person whose thoughts were audible and their main method of communication. He hadn’t really thought it was creepy, just a little weird and inconvenient, but not everyone would react the same way. “Is his name Rome, by any chance?”
Christian hadn’t expected Drake’s sudden surprise when he had mentioned the boys ability, but when he saw it he had immediately regretted his words. He had gotten so comfortable around Drake that he had almost forgotten that the man was practically a stranger. How did he know Rome? And what were his intentions with the boy? It was possible that they had a kind past, but, with boys like Rome and what he probably had to do to survive, such as squatting in homes or stealing food, it was much more likely that the two knew each other on bad terms.
It must have been obvious that Christian regretted speaking, as he had fallen into a sort of awkward silence after the direct question. He sipped his beer patiently, his mind moving quickly in effort to concoct some intricate lie of who the boy was and where he was from, but he had decided that it was pointless. After all, Drake didn’t know where Christian lived if he ever wanted to watch the place for Rome, and he doubted that he knew where Rome was if he allowed him to live in such a poor state. “Yes, his name is Rome.” He said it with a finality, still uncomfortable with his decision to give information on another person, before he shrugged his shoulders crookedly and he watched Drake, trying to find any trace of anger or surprise on his face. He was curious to know about the mans intentions. However, Drake did help Christian in the last bar they were in, so he couldn’t have been that bad of a person. “He’s a bit awkward at first but curious, none-the-less, like any other boy. I suppose you know him?”
Drake had similar worries about Rome staying with a stranger, however decent he may have seemed. First impressions were important but how much could you really know a guy after just a couple of hours? The fact that he didn’t really know the boy very well himself and had only found out he existed recently escaped notice; half-sibling or not Rome was still his brother, and if Christian was letting the kid stay in his apartment then in his mind that meant he had a right to know about it.
He wasn’t surprised when the other man confirmed that it was Rome, since he’d already come to that conclusion and assumed it was the right one by that point. While Christian’s hesitation initially irritated him, he realized it might be a sign of concern. “Yeah, I know him.” Now came the complicated part. He didn’t want to lie about how he knew him; it’d be like he was turning his back on the kid and denying their relation. “He’s my brother. Well, half. We just met recently so things are still a little… complicated.” He finished the rest of his beer and sighed. “Good to know he’s got somewhere to go if he needs it, I guess, especially since you’re a healer.”
Christian had soaked in Drake’s reaction to Christian’s answer, and he looked closely at the man when he began to explain. He didn’t expect the brother part... in fact, he almost dropped the mug he was idly playing with to keep his hands occupied, but he controlled himself and placed it down carefully with a frown. They were brothers? The first logical thought that went through Christian’s mind was, why in the world would this man allow his brother to live in such a state? But then again, Christian didn’t have much of a right to judge. If his own brothers came to Humanity, he would probably leave them on the street before deciding to take them into his home.
“Your brother... my then, I’m glad that I told you where he was.” He looked up at Drake with concern in his eyes but he nodded. “Yes, he knows where he can go if he is harmed. He does not stay often but when he needs to, he shows up.” And, as if he was hit in the face with it, Christian remembered the last few thoughts that ran through Rome’s head before he slept on Christian’s couch the first time they met. “You’re his brother!” Despite the fact that they had established that fact, Christian seemed shocked all over again, and he leaned in just a bit on the table to lower his voice, his eyes lucid with the connection he had made. “He had thoughts about you and... yes, I remember him mentioning you.” It was only then that Christian realized, he really shouldn’t be reacting in such a way to the news that he had heard in the boys head. But really, social interaction was never his thing. He was lucky to make it this far. “He was thinking about how you claimed to be his brother and-” Be careful, Christian, this is probably a sensitive subject, “the things you told him. About your father...” He gave a soft frown. “I’m sorry.”
Rome didn’t need to tell him anything, least of all whether or not he was hanging around some guy’s apartment from time to time, but Drake still didn’t like knowing he’d been unaware of it up until now. “Has he shown up hurt a lot?” He should’ve known this kind of thing, but they were still getting the hang of their newfound sibling… relationship, if it could even be called that. Christian’s sudden surprise even after they’d established the brother thing made him raise his eyebrows, but his expression turned guarded once he mentioned the thoughts. Shit. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Rome might walk around thinking things about him where everyone could hear.
“Oh.” Somehow Drake managed that one word, chasing it down with a deep gulp of beer. He’d told very few people about his father and now Rome was blabbing it to everyone without even meaning to. Great. “Yeah, I had to give him some tough news. I couldn’t lie to the kid.” He shrugged, never having had much experience with people’s sympathy or whatever it was. As grateful as he was that Rome wouldn’t starve to death the lack of privacy thing was definitely something he needed to think about in terms of what he did and didn’t tell the kid in the future.
Christian nodded silently when Drake explained that he had to deliver bad news, and he found it strangely comforting that the man didn’t get into detail. It was obviously none of Christian’s business in the first place, and he guessed it would be uncomfortable for a stranger to know something so private. However, He still expected some sort of emotion that Christian couldn’t handle, but when it didn’t come he seemed relieved. He didn’t do well with his own emotions, let alone others. “I’ve only seen him harmed twice. Once when I found him with a broken arm and hurt leg, and the second time was when the birds attacked. He was decently cut up but it wasn’t anything that I couldn’t handle.”
Christian considered asking why Drake didn’t give Rome shelter himself, but he decided that this was not the time, place, nor relationship where he could throw around such questions. So instead, he took his time slipping his jacket on. “Anyway, your brother is a good kid, but as I said, I don’t know him very well. I’m sure he’s a... good person,” He said the last part faintly, as if he wasn’t really sure of that and was only saying it because he was supposed to, but really, he didn’t know Rome at all. All he knew was that the boy needed help. “But I really should head back.” He paused, glancing up at Drake before he finally cracked a soft smile. “Thank you again, for your help. And don’t be concerned about Rome, I have no intention on harming him, he comes and goes on free will.” Christian seemed to feel sufficient with that and he slipped out of the chair, moving to his feet. He hesitated for a moment before adding, in a softer tone, “If you would like, I could keep you updated on his visits on the forum.” He felt obligated to. This was the boy’s family, after all. “He doesn’t need to know that we spoke of him, if you’re concerned about that.”
It took a lot of self-control to keep himself from asking about the broken arm, but Drake figured it was over with now and it’d be better to just let it go. “I have a feeling he’ll get hurt more often than most people,” he muttered, thinking back to the first time they’d actually met. If Rome could get his arm stuck in a stranger’s car window then there probably wasn’t much he couldn’t get himself into.
Instinct made him want to say that yes, Rome was a good person, but Drake had to admit he really didn’t know. He did seem honest, though; most indecent people didn’t have that trait. “Yeah, he’s a good kid,” he agreed, out of loyalty more than anything. “Don’t mention it. Thanks for the drink.” He stood and cracked a smile, though he didn’t plan on leaving the bar just yet. For a moment he hesitated, considering Christian’s offer, but it didn’t take long for him to come to a decision. “Alright. I’d... appreciate that.”
“Yes well, it only seems as if you should know.” Christian gave a nod and smiled gently at Drake. “I’ll be sure to keep you updated if he stops by. If he comes around harmed, I’ll try to inform you straight away. And don’t mention the drink, it was nothing compared to you saving my backside back there.” His smile widened a bit and, with a final little wave, Christian made his way out of the bar. The night air sobered him a bit, and he glanced around the empty road before heading back to his apartment a few blocks down.