Peter Kimura Whelan (itakunai) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2016-08-13 22:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2019 [08] august, noa bellamy, pete whelan |
Who: Pete Whelan and Noa Bellamy
Where: Pete's house at UMCB District
When: Backdated to 8/4, late evening
What: Noa puts up her next piece of graffiti and needs to hide out afterwards
Noa had been in the UMCB district again, after curfew and with a new piece of art to put up. She’d been able to finish it without interruption - three for three -, but shortly after she had finished she heard the familiar sound of a nightly patrol vehicle. It had been a split second decision to text Pete to see if she could come by and wait out the patrol. He lived in the district, his place had to be closer than her own house in the Greenbelt, and he didn’t have roommates like Cherry did. She’d been a little surprised actually when he responded that she could, but she wondered if that was only because she was projecting. Either way she tried to be as quiet as possible as she pulled her motorcycle into the drive, nearly unseen as she picked her way up to the front door, helmet tucked underneath one arm as she texted that she was out front with the other. There was an old but familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach, created by nerves more than anticipation. She and Pete had existed in a state of awkwardness for so long, she wasn’t sure where they really stood with each other anymore. “Thanks, sweetheart,” she said to him once she saw the door open a crack. “You didn’t have to let me come.” Breaking curfew, even if it wasn't him necessarily doing it, felt a little bit dangerous -- almost like when he'd been helping at the Dog Park. He regretted that now, a little bit, but not completely. He pulled the door open further, just enough to let Noa inside once he'd confirmed it was her. "That's okay." And to his surprise, he actually meant it, too, every bit of it. Things between them had been rough over the last few months, but he thought they were at a little bit more of an understanding these days. Pete just wished it hadn't taken some really shitty things to get them to that point. "You get it done all right?" Nodding, Noa set her helmet down by the door. “Not a soul nearby ‘til I was done.” She’d come to realize that she’d rather have the security patrols than the rogues, even if that meant more trouble for her in the long run. “I almost signed this one, just to see what they’d do,” she admitted as she walked further into his home. “But I was afraid of what they might do.” Pete hung back for a moment, locking the door, then flipped on a switch to turn on the hallway light on their way into the kitchen. Getting hungry late at night was a leftover pre-zombie habit he hadn't been able to shake. "I'm glad you didn't," he said, turning to retrieve a bar of chocolate from a cabinet and set it on the table. "I have a couple of friends who've run into them. It hasn't ever been pretty." He frowned, thinking about the injuries Rose had sustained, and tore open the chocolate bar wrapper. "Want some?" Noa shook her head no at the offer. Even though things had gone off without a hitch, her stomach was still in too many knots to think about eating; the adrenaline she assumed. “I wouldn’t have guessed it was,” she said, hesitating for a minute before she pulled a chair out and sat down. She hadn’t known he had friends that had been roughed up by the rogues, and it only fed into her anger with them now. “I’d rather meet a group of soldiers on the street than the rogues.” In some ways she still needed to come to terms with the new military strength in the city, but that fact was true. The soldiers in Rendition hadn’t had to save her or Sasha, but they had with risk to themselves. “You know, most of ‘em sat in my chair, have my art on their bodies, used to tell me they had my back…” she trailed off, a flash of a scowl across her face before her features smoothed out again. “I’m real sorry about your friends.” "Yeah. Thank you." Pete shook his head, frowning slightly. "I am, too." And in that moment he wasn't sure if he was referring to what had happened to his friends, or if he was sorry about the way that hers had clearly changed. Or maybe they hadn't changed, but she had. He broke off a piece of chocolate and chewed on it, allowing a bit of silence to settle between them as he swallowed. "I guess if you're used to things being a certain way, you don't want to give the other way a shot even if you'd be able to get something out of it. But usually the things you hold on to aren't as violent and douche-y." A few months ago Noa would have clammed up and sat in silence at Pete’s statement, or worse she would have started another fight like the one that had derailed them in the first place. But she’d been surrounded by both of the things he’d pointed out for too long and she was tired. “I feel real stupid.” Some of the things she’d been so sure of had tumbled like a house of cards, and she felt like she was left picking up what she could. It had been that way for longer than the rogues, even, if she got to scrutinizing. “And I was afraid. But I was wrong.” Maybe Pete would understand why, but maybe he wouldn't. She didn’t think that she could put into words the kind of safety she thought she’d had in the Dog Park. “I should have listened to you.” "Oh," he said simply, surprise clear on his face. Though they'd been getting along better over the last few months, though not talking all that much certainly made that easier, Pete had started to doubt they'd ever resolve the fight they'd had back in early June. He hadn't meant his words as some sort of personal call out on Noa's judgment, intending them more a statement to the men she herself was protesting through her art, but he wasn't about to argue otherwise. "I think we probably should've done more listening to each other." Pete still felt like he was the right one in that argument, considering how things had turned out, but he knew he could've done a better job of seeing things from her eyes. Noa nodded. “Listening is harder than talking sometimes.” She was usually better at the former, but the government had been a sore spot, for reasons that had very little to do with what they were trying to do in Austin. “I've spent a lot of my life dealing with people in child protective services, in law enforcement, and there wasn't ever one that looked at me like they ever thought I was going to be anything.” She spun the ring on her finger in an absent motion. “I couldn't trust that the government would make it better if they came in, because I've never had anything made better by authority.” Was it really the time to unload that? In the middle of the night, when they were probably both tired. Noa smiled like it was an out, like Pete was allowed to shrug and move on. He didn't, though, choosing instead to remain right where he was; sure, he was tired, but what she'd just said was bigger than that. He was silent for a moment, mulling over what she'd just said, sure the look on his face gave away his surprise. Noa noticed, and her smile went a little tighter around the edges. It did make sense now, the way she'd reacted to everything when they'd argued back in June. If that was how her life had been, of course she'd not wanted to buy in as quickly as he had. Pete had only seen the positive sides of the government throughout his life. "Thanks for telling me. I know you didn't have to." He'd heard once that sharing things with people brought you together, and it was a little easier now to understand how that could work. "I'm gonna try to get better at the listening thing if you want to keep talking. Now or another time." She felt wobbly and exposed, even if she’d only told him some of the bare bones of what her childhood had been created by. But she also felt better about having told Pete even that little bit. Beneath his surprise he’d seemed honest. “I needed to. It wasn’t real fair of me to expect you to understand without knowing,” she replied. “But you don’t really want my life story tonight, sweetheart. We’d be here until sunrise.” Drug addicted mothers, juvenile truancy and trouble, and a desperate need to find a place to belong were a lot to unpack. Noa rarely made the effort. Less than half the Dog Park knew what she’d just told Pete. “Maybe another time.” "Okay. Another time sounds good to me." Sort of like a promise that they'd hang out again, despite the rockiness that had unfolded over the last two months. And it wasn't just because she'd shared that part of her and he felt guilty or something. Even though there was still too much in the way for him to pick up where they'd left off before that fight, Pete had genuinely missed being around her. He reached for another piece of chocolate, hoping and guessing she wouldn't mind a change of topic just then. "Since it's so late, how about we get some sleep?" Smiling, relieved, she nodded. “You have a guest room I crash in?” Noa was careful not to assume any other intention in Pete’s statement. They weren’t there, they might not ever be close to there again; what she focused on was the fact that at least they felt like they were at a better place than they had been before she walked through the front door. “I wouldn’t mind a shower either, if you don't mind me using up some water.” She felt like the smell of spray paint had clung to her skin, even though it hadn't. "Yeah, that's okay." He stood up, folding the top of the chocolate bar's wrapping over itself, and pushed it aside before he pointed. "Bathroom's over there. There's a second room, but I don't have it set up for company." Furniture wasn't really easy to come by, still, though pieces were regularly salvaged from buildings. Once they were in the hallway, he turned to face her and raised an eyebrow, adding, "You can crash with me, or out on the couch. I'm cool with either." They had already shared a bed, after all, even if it'd been hard to get any sleep when they'd been so mad at each other. This night felt like it'd be easier, if she went that route. “I’d rather the bed,” Noa replied with a small smile. “I’ve couched surfed enough for a lifetime.” Her mouth quirked a little more with the last small piece of history she shared, but it was obvious it wasn’t an opening for questions to be asked. She didn’t think Pete would have anyway. She moved to the bathroom door, opened it and just before she stepped inside she added, “I’ll try not to wake you up.” Just in case he was asleep by the time she had finished her shower. |