A Late Lunch
Characters: Brady and Meg Setting: The kitchen, not long after this.
After getting a few hours of sleep which in all actuality left him feeling far groggier than when he’d crashed in the first place, Brady dragged himself out of bed and into his shower. He took care of a few things on the computer, happy to keep that short because the thing was a pain in the ass, and the tasks the admins had set were even more so. All he knew was that he didn’t trust where things were headed, and he was going to do his best to ensure people he trusted (or as much as he could) landed in the most important positions.
As he headed outside, he ran his hands through his still damp hair, squinting against the bright sunlight. At least the storm seemed to have finally past. At least the physical one. They could do with some sunshine, and he didn’t want to worry about Edan freaking out and getting herself in a situation she’d regret, not that he was any closer to making sense of her behavior from the night before. God knew he had enough to worry about with the threat against Autumn and Mazie, and then the unknown mischief that Mazie was up to that Autumn couldn’t talk to him about in the open. Pushing thoughts of all the odd things that had been happening from his mind before they could make his head hurt worse, Brady crossed the courtyard, heading for the kitchen.
Meg was already there, perched on one of the counters with open jars of peanut butter and jelly sat next to her as she tucked into a haphazardly put together sandwich, hair safely pinned back out of harms way. Her heels drummed lightly against the cupboards beneath her and the picture she presented sat quite at odd with the list of names she was repeating in her head and the thoughts of what she was going to do when she discovered which was the right one. In fact she was so absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t even notice when someone else came in.
While Brady wasn’t feeling particularly sociable, he couldn’t help but give the tiny blonde sitting on one of the counters a nod of greeting as he moved into her line of sight. He didn’t say anything, though, as he continued on to the fridge, opening it to try to figure out what to eat. As much as he was trying to push it all aside, there was a lot on his mind that he was trying to sort through.
Although his arrival caught her a little off-guard, something she only had herself to blame for, Meg managed to cover it, returning his nod as she finished her mouthful of sandwich. She didn’t feel any kind of recognition on seeing him but that didn’t eliminate him from the list just yet and as he rummaged in the fridge, she gave him a careful once over trying to see what she could determine about him from appearance alone. The tattoos visible on his arms were distinct enough but not so much so that she could put a name to their owner and she let out an inaudible sigh, cursing the lack of attention she’d paid her fellow inmates since arriving. “Afternoon,” she said breaking the silence, figuring the only way she was going to get somewhere was to actually talk to the guy. “Don’t think we’ve met have we?”
Brady was only mildly surprised when she spoke up, and even though he wasn’t particularly pleased about it, he kept any sign of annoyance out of his expression as he closed the door to the fridge and glanced over at her. “Afternoon,” he returned the greeting. “Nope, can’t say we have. Seen you around a time or two, though,” he answered. He had no idea who she was, of course, but she was recognizable enough by her mess of hair even with it pinned back. “I’m Brady,” he offered. “Who’re you?”
Although she had her list of names memorised, back in her room Meg had made a few notes about each of them based on what she could find out from the journals and on hearing Brady’s name, tried to remember what she’d found about him. It took a moment but then it came to her, he was the soldier who’d attacked a girl then confessed to it on the journals. She didn’t say that aloud though, even if it was very present in her mind as she replied, “Meg.” Unsure of where to go from there, her plan having not really not gone into the specifics of conversation, she waved to her abandoned sandwich fixings. “Bread’s still good if you wanted a sandwich. Figured I’d avoid the fridgables on account the blackout last night, dunno what might’ve turned.”
Meg. Brady went through his mental files to try to place the name with anything he might know about her, but he came up blank. No matter, he’d just get an unbiased impression of her for himself now, especially with this whole voting bullshit coming up. “Good plan, there,” he commented as he grabbed a plate for himself. Heading over to where she’d left the fixings out, he started assembling a couple sandwiches for himself. “Carmel will probably sort through it soon enough if she hasn’t yet.” Maybe he’d look again after he ate and throw out what had gone bad if it hadn’t been done yet. Couldn’t hurt.
Inwardly smiling at his choice of words, Meg gave a shrug before shuffling over slightly as he moved to where she was sitting. She purposely didn’t move too far though, wanting to gauge how he’d react to having her in close proximity and took another bite of her food. “Carmel’s good people,” she offered around the mouthful of sandwich. “Does more than her fair share round these parts thats for sure.”
Brady was utterly oblivious to any kind of test she might be giving him, and he just went on with making his sandwiches without any nervous ticks or awkwardness. He glanced over at her with a little grin at her words. “Yeah, she is. Might try to give her a break one of these nights, but there isn’t much I can do in the kitchen outside breakfast stuff and grillin’,” he admitted, setting his assembled sandwich on the plate while he twisted the lids back on the jars and went to put them away. “You didn’t want more, did you?” he double checked halfway there.
“Me neither,” she said, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he put his food together. Nothing about him was setting off any alarm bells but given his run-in with another girl, she certainly wasn’t willing to write him off. “‘Less people get a hankering for mac n cheese out of a box.” She shook her head at his arguably belated question and hopped off the counter with a clatter to grab some chips from the pantry. “You want anything outta here?” she asked, turning back to him.
A little smirk played on his lips at her mention of mac’n’cheese. “Nothing wrong with good ol’ Kraft,” he commented. He’d practically been raised on it, and he couldn’t say he’d ever grown out of it. When she shook her head, he continued on to put the jars away. “Sure. Chips or whatever’s in there,” he answered. “Want a Coke?” he asked as he grabbed one for himself out of the fridge. It would seem he was having another interaction that wasn’t turning antagonistic in the first five minutes, which he was counting toward this being a better day.
“Clearly you’re a man with fine taste,” she quipped, tugging a large bag of chips and a pack of cookies from one of the shelves and lobbing them onto the central island. “And yeah, I’ll take one.” Claiming a perch next to where she’d thrown the food, she opened the chips and fished one out before offering the bag to him. “So, you get up to much during the blackout then? Talk about some fucked up shit right there.”
“Damn straight. You make do with what ya got, and we didn’t have much growin’ up. Kraft’s got a special little place in my heart,” Brady told her with a cheeky little grin. He took an extra Coke out of the fridge and rejoined her at the center island, passing one over and reaching into the bag of chips for a handful to put on his plate with his sandwiches. Snorting at her question, he shook his head. “A hell of a lot of fucked up shit. Got stranded over in B Block and stayed up all night keepin’ watch so one of the girls, Edan, could get some sleep,” he answered, not seeing any reason to hide where he was or who he was with. He was pretty honest in general.
If her suspicions hadn’t been up about pretty every man in the facility, Meg would have found it quite easy to like Brady - there was a straightforwardness to him she appreciated and a lack of any kind of pretension that chimed with her own sensibilities. His mention of another girl sharpened her focus however and she seized on it, an intensity creeping in around her eyes even if she managed to keep it from her voice. “Friend of yours?” she asked, popping the tab on her drink.
The question didn’t strike him as weird or suspicious, and he nodded at it. “Yeah, you could say that. We didn’t know each other from before, but I served with her brother. He saved my life in Iraq,” he answered, again really not finding any reason to be dishonest about it. He’d make sure no one fucked with Edan for that alone, and he figured it would be better all around if people didn’t question why that was.
“Wow, small world huh?” she said before pulling a long swig from her drink. The mention of Iraq had her glancing once more at the ink that decorated his arms, the list of initials and dates, too numerous to likely be kids, and wondered if they were linked to his time as a soldier.
“You could say that,” Brady agreed with an amused snort. “You know anyone here from before?” he asked curiously. He knew that he and Edan weren’t the only ones. Charlie and Wren had known one another from before as well. It made him curious if there were others that had connections from the outside too.
Meg knew that if she was going to find whoever it was who assaulted her, she was going to have to not let anything throw her off her game. Unfortunately that knowledge wasn’t enough to stop Brady’s question catching her by surprise, her stomach lurching uncomfortably and her chest growing tight as thoughts of Dom rushed into her head. “Yeah, my husband,” she replied, setting down her drink, appetite totally lost. “But he’s not here anymore.”
The question had been innocent enough, but Brady was watching her, so it was pretty clear that it had affected her. And when she did answer, he frowned, only for understanding to settle in moments later at her last words. “Ahh, fuck. Sorry, that’s some bullshit. He one of the ones that magically disappeared, or...?” he trailed off, wondering if it had been the guy there’d been all that buzz about, the one who’d been tasered and removed in the middle of the day last week.
‘Some bullshit’ didn’t even begin to cover it as far as Meg was concerned, the erratic way she shook her head at Brady’s question all too telling of just how much Dom’s removal and the reasons behind it had affected her.
Fuck. Were the waterworks on their way? He didn’t know this girl, and while he could deal with tears, who knew what would happen if her emotions did overtake her in that way. “Fuck,” he repeated, not really needing a verbal answer. “Shit, you wanna talk about anything else, try to think about something else, I won’t fault ya for it.” Though now that the initial reaction had passed, he couldn‘t help wondering how a girl as young as her had ended up married and in prison.
Unsure whether his uncertainty in how to deal with her worked for or against him, Meg let out a shrill, helpless sounding laugh. “Couldn’t think ‘bout something else if I wanted to,” she said honestly, shaking her head. “It’s been all I’ve thought about since they took him.”
Since a change of topic didn’t seem to be on the horizon, Brady gave her his complete attention. “Can’t say I blame ya for that, either. Got any clue why they took him? Seems pretty fucking sadistic to bring y’all together just to remove him a few days later,” he observed as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He was getting the impression that she wasn’t the most emotionally stable right now, and while he couldn’t blame her for it, he really didn’t want to set her off.
She may have been hovering on the brink of tears but Brady’s innocently posed question brought her screeching back to her reason for talking to him in the first place, offering her the perfect opportunity to figure out if he was the guy she was looking for. “Yeah, they said it was ‘cause I fucked someone else and they didn’t want him to go schizo on the guy,” she said bluntly, eyes snapping to his so she could watch his reaction.
Whatever reaction she might have been looking for, it probably wasn’t mingled surprise and disgust toward her. “You cheated on him, and they removed him?” Hearing that she’d fucked someone else made him think her little woe is me act was a bit too over the top. If it was her own fault, then she should deal with it.
Anger coursed into Meg’s expression and her hands bunched into fists by her sides. “Does it count as cheating if the guy fucked me when I was passed out drunk?” she snapped. “That I would rather shoot myself then willing sleep with someone else?”
Well, that completely changed his perspective on the situation again. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed, eyes darkening in anger of his own. “No, that doesn’t fucking count. You got any clue who did it?” If she’d been passed out drunk, then there was a good chance she had no idea, but God help the guy if he ever found out who it was. It didn’t matter that he’d just met Meg, he had no tolerance for that kind of abuse, and he’d be damned if it happened to Edan or Autumn, or any of the other women here.
“No I don’t,” she said, the tone of her voice making her feelings on the matter abundantly clear. “Fuckers in charge never gave me a name and considering they would’ve seen it happen and described it as ‘sexual intercourse’, I figure they’re planning on keeping quiet on the matter.” As angry as she was though, there was something in Brady’s expression though, a rage on her behalf she recognised as the righteous kind that couldn’t be faked, that struck his name from her list of possible suspects.
Brady’s fingers curled into fists as his eyes narrowed at that. “Fuck them,” he said immediately, his distrust of those in charge increasing exponentially. “How they fuck do you mistake a guy raping a passed out girl with consensual fucking sex?” he asked rhetorically, obviously thinking those in charge were about as big of idiots as you could get. “Shit, you ever get examined or something?” he asked, a bit of concern for her replacing the anger.
Of all the things Brady could have asked her, Meg hadn’t expected it to be that and found herself feeling embarrassed that she had to shake her head, slipping down from the counter so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes anymore. “I didn’t even know it had happened until they told me that was the reason they took Dom away,” she said, the anger bleeding off her voice to reveal the frustration and helplessness that lay beneath it.
Although it was clear Meg was embarrassed by the question, Brady had a feeling it was something that she needed to think about if she hadn’t yet. Though if they’d taken a while to give her the reason, it was highly probable any remnants of her attacker would have been washed away. She didn’t look like she’d gone a week without showering, after all. “Fucking assholes. Shit, well, you should probably still get checked out, even if there’s nothing to find? Any clue you can get, y’know?” It really pissed him off that the admins wouldn’t give her the name of her attacker. What kind of fucked up were they that they were protecting this guy?
“What’s the point, they aren’t gonna find nothin’ and if they did it’s not like the doc’s got a DNA lab hiding down in the clinic,” she said, hackles rising. “No, I’m gonna figure this shit out on my own and when I do, I’ll make the fucker who did it regret he ever touched me.”
“Cause it’s not just a DNA test you’d be looking for,” Brady retorted evenly. “You don’t know who this fucker is or what he might be carrying. Some shit takes a while to crop up, but you might be able to catch something early if he did pass something on. Or maybe the doc’ll tell you to hold off. Point is, it can only do good for ya to get checked out.” And there was also the potential of pregnancy, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask if she had that covered. The rest of what she’d said, though? It made him acutely aware that she was a criminal of the unknown variety, and he had no clue just what she was capable of. “Good,” he said simply, though. “You need a hand with that, you let me know.” Not that he was implying she couldn’t take care of it herself, but some of the men here were a lot bigger and stronger than her, and he’d be more than willing to hold the fucker while she did what she needed to do.
Begrudgingly Meg had to admit he had a point, the thought of STDs not even having occurred to her yet and in it’s wake, the thing Brady purposely hadn’t mentioned, a look of horror flashing across her eyes as one hand went to her stomach. She forced that notion out of her head, not needing something else to worry about and cloud her already swirling mind. “I’ll see him when it’s done,” she muttered, more to herself than to Brady. His offer of help however had her offering him a humourless grin in return as she shook her head. “Oh don’t worry, I’ve got it covered,” she told him and with a surprising amount of speed, tugged one of the ‘hair chopsticks’ free from her bun and stabbed it through an apple that was sitting atop a nearby fruit bowl.
Her reaction made it pretty clear that he didn’t have to bring up the possibility of pregnancy, which was very much a relief, though he didn’t take any pleasure at the look of horror in her eyes. He gave her a short nod at the mutter, understanding the need to see this through before she saw to herself. If there were any lasting physical consequences from her attack? She would still be able to deal with it even if it took a little bit. He quirked a brow, an expression of surprise on his face as she stabbed an apple with one of the chopsticks that had been holding her wild mass of curls back. “Well, fuck,” he uttered, reaching across to tug the other chopstick out of her hair quickly so he could examine it. He studied it, rolling the tip against his palm in consideration. “Not bad. You file it down yourself?” he asked, handing it back to her.
The ease at which he had effectively disarmed her had Meg scowling as she grabbed the thoroughly skewered fruit and slid the knitting needle free. “Yeah I did,” she said, taking back the one he’d stolen and giving her handiwork a quick once over. “Wanted something light I could keep on me that didn’t scream ‘I can totally stab you with this’, you know?” With that she licked off the juice clinging to one of the slim pieces of metal then put her hair back up.
“Smart girl,” he said with a nod, his tone completely lacking any kind of patronizing note. “And yeah, I know. You did good with these. Didn’t even really notice ‘em till you stabbed that apple. Maybe you shouldn’t let it get ‘round that you’ve got those, though, especially not knowing who the fucker is,” he advised, though he didn’t think she would be stupid about it. She seemed to be able to hold her own just fine.
“I don’t intend to,” she told him, giving him a look that screamed ‘how dumb do you think I am’ that would have arguably had more clout if she wasn’t over a foot shorter than him. It was gratifying to know that someone of his size and background seemed to think she had a sound weapon at her disposal though, even if he had unintentionally made her aware of its limitations. “You mind keeping this little chat ‘tween us as well? Don’t want whoever this guy is to know I’m looking for him.”
Brady merely smirked and shrugged slightly at the look she gave him. She didn't really strike him as dumb, but he wouldn't have felt right if he hadn't said something. "That I can do. And if you do need any help with it, let me know,” he reminded her, making it clear he’d have her back in this however she needed.
It was unlikely she would but Meg took the offer in the spirit it was intended and nodded in appreciation. “Thanks Brady,” she said, the sentiment a genuine one, and grabbing the apple she’d stabbed and her soda, she headed for the door. Just before she left, she turned to him, a small but real smile pulling at her lips and added “You’re alright you know?” before ducking outside and heading for her room.
“Anytime,” Brady replied with the same genuineness. What could he say? He was a sucker when it came to women. At least he knew how to keep it in his pants, though, right? He watched her leave, grinning back at her when she turned back. “Right back atchya,” he murmured even as she ducked out. He’d probably keep an eye out for her, maybe listen a little closer to what people were talking about to see if he might be able to find something out to help her. Right now, though? He had a couple sandwiches to eat, and he turned to them to do so.