Sage Monroe (turnitup) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2019-10-31 08:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | #january 2018, bailey, bailey x sage, sage |
Who: Sage and Bailey
Where: Downtown Point Pleasant
When: Evening, Wednesday, January 3
Status: In Progress
Sage slammed the door behind him as he stomped out of Dragonfly, Nate’s cool dismissal rattling around in his head before he repeated it himself. “Take the night off,” he mocked sourly. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Go home and jerk off?” He flashed both his middle fingers towards the window of the bar, then marched on down the sidewalk, the cold making his mood even worse. Today had been one hell of a bad day and he couldn’t even say why. Every person he interacted with had a bone to pick with him and he couldn’t leave it alone for once. It had gotten worse when he’d gotten to work and noticed everyone looking at him, whispering to each other when he wasn’t paying attention. Sage knew what they were talking about, what they were always talking about. He was one of the Cooperdale Five. Even years later, he couldn’t escape his reputation. It had come to a head when one of the guys at the bar made a snide comment about him and Sage couldn’t let it slide. He’d raised his voice, hands gripping the bar to keep from hitting the guy, and had been close to yelling when Nate had pulled him aside.
It pissed him off just to think about it and his hands balled into fists. He could feel people looking at him as he walked down the sidewalk, see the way they moved to avoid him. Sage glared back at them, then practically snarled as they whispered to each other, fearfully glancing in his direction. “What’re you looking at?” he snapped at a couple of women, who hurried off in the other direction. Sage watched them go, breathing heavy, his breath crystalizing in the night air. Behind him, he heard a noise and he spun, seeing no one. “Who’s there?” he called out, expecting to see a person, some shape in the shadows. His skin began to crawl, his heart beating even faster. It was like he could feel someone watching him, a ghost perhaps? He remembered Grayson, staring at him from outside Dragonfly, gone the second Sage stepped outside. Suddenly he was convinced that he was there now, or someone who wanted to mess with him. That would make far more sense. “Come on out, you fucker!” he shouted. “I know you’re out there!” He spun, expecting to see someone, expecting a punch to the face or a shove against the wall. “What’re you waiting for? I am done with this running and hiding bullshit! If you want me, come and get me!”
It had been a somewhat quiet week for Bailey for which she was thankful. The transition hadn't been easy, but Bailey knew she needed time to settle before the shit hit the fan again in Point Pleasant, which is undoubtedly would. As she was on duty tonight, Bailey took a moment to stop into the pharmacy to buy some mints. She was unwrapping the roll when she stepped out of the store and heard shouting down the street. As soon as Bailey caught sight of the guy, she noticed he was alone. Drunk? Maybe, but he didn't sound it... well, maybe a little. He wasn't stumbling. Bailey started towards him cautiously, her gaze roaming the area in case someone was hiding. When she got close enough she slipped her mints into her coat pocket. "Everything okay?" she asked with a raised brow.
Sage spun towards the voice, his breathing heavy and his eyes wide. While police officers might’ve made some people feel safe, they tended to have the exact opposite effect on Sage, even on a normal day. Every encounter he’d ever had with them turned out to be antagonistic, at least from them, though today was different. “Why’re you following me?” He asked, his eyes darting to the hand in her pocket. Did she have her gun in there? He saw the one in her hollister, but guys in movies always had guns in their pockets, concealed and ready to fire. “What’re you hiding?” He snapped, waffling between agitation and worry. “I didn’t do anything.” They never believed him though, no matter how many times he said so.
Bailey pulled her hand from her pocket slowly, opening her palm to show him it was empty. "Just a roll of mints," she told him. Getting a good look at his eyes, Bailey didn't see any real signs that he was high or on something. It could just be he was having a really bad day. It happened, especially in this town. "But I'm not following you. I heard you yelling and wanted to make sure you were all right. Was someone else around giving you trouble?" Bailey didn't recognize him, but that wasn't unusual since there were a lot of people in Point Pleasant she didn't recognize. Nineteen years gone tended to erase a lot of faces that had never directly affected her.
The mints threw Sage off. It wasn’t a gun. She wasn’t threatening him… yet. He knew she would eventually. The cops always turned on him eventually. “This guy…” he started, his voice calmer, though he was still looking around, waiting for Grayson to pop up again, the ghost leaving so fleetingly that no one else seemed to see it. But it couldn’t be Grayson. Grayson was dead. “Someone’s been messing with me. Trying to scare me.” And it was working. It made him feel crazy, so he was going to catch them. He’d find out who was fucking with his head. “He was just here. He’s always just here and then he’s gone and he’s making it look like I’m crazy.” But he wasn’t. He would catch the bastard and prove it, make him stop.
"No one thinks you're crazy," Bailey told him. She didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean that no one had been there. It would be naive of her to think this town didn't fuck with everyone. Maybe there had been someone there, maybe not. Bailey was just focused on the issue at hand now, and that was making sure this guy got home, or to wherever he was going, in one piece. He still looked agitated but at least he wasn't yelling anymore. "Do you have someone to call? Do you need a ride home?" It was cold and frankly, Bailey didn't think anyone should be out wandering around after dark, especially when they were so clearly upset about something.
Yes, yes they did think he was crazy. Or a murderer, which was worse. No one would believe him if Sage told them who he’d been seeing. They’d think it was his guilty conscience and that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. But he hadn’t killed Grayson. None of them had. The police hadn’t believed him back then and they wouldn’t believe him now. “Why would I need a ride home?” he asked, hackles rising again. A couple walking down the sidewalk tried to skirt by Sage, muttering to each other and casting glances in his direction. While they were trying to avoid him, this only made things worse. He focused in on them, reading their behavior as suspect rather than avoidance. “What’s your problem?” he snapped and they couple tried to rush off. Sage hurried after them, forgetting the officer. “It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been spying on me, messing with my head, pretending to be him. I fucking caught you!”
Bailey sighed, but quickly walked after Sage, one hand coming up to slow him down without touching him as she stepped in front of where he was walking. "Hey, you need to calm down. No one is spying on you." The couple had quickened their steps to put distance between themselves and Sage and Bailey couldn't blame them. "Look, sir, I'm going to need you to call someone to come pick you up, or I'm going to give you a ride home. Which is going to be?"
Sage was so caught up in the couple that he almost ran straight into Bailey and glared at her as she cut him off. “What the fuck?” He asked and gave her a light shove. “You’re working with them, aren’t you? All of you, out to get me.” Her words registered and twisted in his head, paranoia and his past interaction with the police force melting into a hot mess that made his hands shake and his voice rise. “What’re you gonna do, shove me in your car and take me back to the tunnel? You can’t make me go there. You can’t fucking make me!”
As soon as he touched her Bailey's hand went to the butt of her gun, though she didn't pull it out. Instead she kept her hand up toward Sage, her expression stoic now, rather than calm and understanding. He was definitely high on something. Or maybe he was just mentally ill, she didn't know. Bailey heard the word 'tunnel' and immediately thought of the Cooperdale Tunnel, which had its own long, bloody history. Her pulse picked up and she wondered if she would need to call for backup. She would tase him if she had to, but Bailey really didn't want to have to do that. "I need you to get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head. Do it now," she barked.
Sage’s eyes widened and his hands balled into fists, thinking for a moment that he might hit her. And then he realized what he was thinking and a wave of fear hit him so hard it made him dizzy. What was happening to him? Was he really thinking about hitting a cop? Hitting a female cop? He’d never hit anyone in his life… Except for Grayson. Sage slowly did as he was told, moving first to his knees, then the ground, his fingers threading together as he placed them behind his head. “Please don’t make me go there,” he whispered, desperate for her to listen. He couldn’t do it again, didn’t know what he was capable of when he was under the influence of whatever lived in that tunnel. “I can’t… You have to understand…”
Bailey exhaled softly when he complied and she moved swiftly to bring his hands down and cuff them. He hadn't hit her or even hurt her in any capacity, but she didn't appreciate anyone putting their hands on her, even when she was off duty. Shoving her, even lightly, was unacceptable. Fuck. All she had wanted were some mints. Bailey thought about taking him home, but he didn't seem in his right mind and she didn't want him to do something to himself after she left. Or hurt anyone else, which seemed like a possibility. "I'm taking you to the station to sit for a while," she told him simply as she slid the cuffs around his wrists. "I'm not taking you to any tunnel. Just get to your feet and cooperate, and you'll be fine."
As the cuffs clicked closed on his wrists, Sage felt a growing sense of paranoia that she was lying to him. Why did she need to cuff him if she was just taking him to the station? He would have gone willingly, though he was having a hard time understanding why she needed him to do that too. He hadn’t actually hit her, even if he’d thought about it. “Can you read my mind?” He asked as he climbed to his feet, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Are you, like, a psychic? Or a witch?” Shit, what if she was? And he’d let her lock him up. For all he knew, she might be taking him to the woods for some kind of ritual sacrifice.
Bailey couldn't help the snicker that escaped her as she began to lead him over to where she had parked her patrol car. "I'm not a psychic. As for being a witch, that really depends on who you ask." Her ex-husband would probably call her one. And another word that rhymed with it. But that was life. She knew here in Point Pleasant there was probably more to his questions than one might think, because psychics and witches were real, but he didn't seem to be in the right state of mind to have a proper conversation about it. "But no, I can't read your mind. I'm not entirely sure I'd want to right now. What's your name?" Bailey reached over to open the backdoor of the cruiser.
Her response was in no way reassuring and Sage dug his heels in before getting into the back of the car. Was it too late to run? Probably. She had a gun and his hands were in handcuffs. He couldn’t even get in his car like that and he didn’t think an escape on foot was possible. “Sage,” he answered with a sigh, then ducked his head to climb into the back of the cruiser. Even when Grayson went missing, he hadn’t had to ride in the back of a police car. It made him panicky, his eyes darting from one window to the other. “Am I in trouble? You can’t charge me with anything. I didn’t do anything wrong.” Did he? He’d been a little pissy, sure, but they all had bad days.
Bailey didn't answer until she was in the driver's seat and radioing in to let dispatch know she was bringing someone in for lock up. Then she started the car and glanced back at Sage. "Disrupting the peace. I guess I could say assaulting a police officer if you call that baby shove assault. So yes, I could charge you with plenty. But I think you probably need some time to sober up, or sort yourself out, whatever comes first. You can call someone to come pick you up when I decide it's time for you to go." He didn't actually seem dangerous. Just temperamental. Maybe paranoid. Maybe he smoked some bad weed or something.
“I’m not drunk!” Sage protested, eyes wide as he ran those charges over in his head. “You can’t fucking do this! You can’t charge me for something I didn’t do!” She’d lied to him. She could read his mind and had known he was thinking about hitting her. That was the only explanation. Sage kicked the back of her seat in frustration, annoyed that the barrier prevented him from doing much of anything. “What the fuck is with people today?” he muttered as he fought against his cuffs, the metal cutting into his wrists. First Nate, now this cop. It was step on Sage day and he couldn’t figure out why.
"I didn't say you were drunk." Bailey ignored his tantrum, already more than ready to lock him up for the night and let him "sleep it off" so to speak. She still had no idea what was wrong with him, and there was definitely a possibility that he was mentally ill. Or maybe this was just who he was, shouting at people in the dark, following them. Bailey glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Do you have someone you can call when we get to the station?"
Sage went quiet, staring out the window as he brooded over the question. He couldn’t call his parents. He couldn’t do that to them. They’d already had to deal with him being injured earlier in the week and it would bring back memories that he didn’t want dredged up. He thought of the guys in the band, but they didn’t know what he’d been through back then and he had no plans to tell them. That left Jacob, who was most certainly with Connor, and Jocelyn, who was probably at work. “Maybe,” he said softly, then closed his eyes as he leaned his head against the glass. He didn’t want to bother either of them. They might leave again and that wasn’t worth the risk.
Maybe was better than no, so Bailey left it at that, content with driving to the station in silence. Sage could sleep it off in one of the holding cells, or rant and rave... she didn't really care either way as long as he wasn't being a menace on the streets. If no one came to pick him up, she would make sure he was released in the morning, and that was that, if he cooperated and behaved himself. Bailey sighed and reached into her pocket with one hand to pull out her mints, working on getting them open as she drove so she could pop one in her mouth. She wanted a drink desperately, especially now. But that could wait until she was off shift and at home.