bailey jansen (outofthehole) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2019-10-31 10:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | #january 2018, bailey, bailey x kane, kane |
Who: Bailey and Kane
When: evening, Thursday, Jan 4th
Where: The Back Porch
Status: Complete
Part of Kane couldn’t believe he was back in this fucking town. It had been years since he’d set foot in Point Pleasant, and while certain business opportunities had tempted him back toward the little seaside town, he’d managed to hold out until now. Kane had put it in his rearview mirror at a fairly young age, and he’d wanted to keep it that way, but ... here he was. He’d gotten a room at a cheap little motel out near Cherries -- which looked like it hadn’t changed a single bit since Kane had been eighteen -- and set out into Point Pleasant proper to find his sister.
It was evening, so if she wasn’t working, she was probably drinking. Kane thought he could stand to have a few drinks of his own. He hadn’t been of legal age when he left, but everybody knew where the watering holes were in such a small town, so Kane guided his shiny black Tahoe toward The Back Porch Pub. His boots crunched on the dirty snow lingering in the parking lot as he walked from the car to the door, the cold seeping through his black leather jacket. The artificial heat that hit him when he walked in made his nose feel dry, and he sniffed absently as his narrow eyes scanned the faces in the bar.
Bailey wasn't working tonight, and yes, she was drinking. And yes, she was at the Porch, sitting at the bar with a vodka tonic. Her third. The Porch was run by a bunch of assholes, but it suited her more than any of the other bars in town did. She felt less seen here, even if she was a cop. She certainly didn't dress like one now, her badge tucked safely away in her coat. Being fairly new to the force, she didn't think anyone in the bar knew who she was anyway, so she was able to drink in peace, occasionally glancing up at the television to see some of the sports scores as if she had any stake in them, which she didn't.
When the door opened, Bailey instinctively glanced over, not expecting to see anyone familiar. She simply liked knowing who was walking in, and with what. It took her about four seconds to recognize the man scanning the bar and as soon as their eyes met, Bailey tensed. Her fingers tightened around her glass but she immediately looked away, her gaze lifting back up toward the television. She appeared calm and collected on the outside. Indifferent, even. But inside her heart was pounding and her mind was running a mile a minute, desperate to find any legit reason why Kane would be back in town. She knew for a fact he hadn't come to see their mother.
Kane wasn’t very surprised at all to see Bailey sitting at the bar, but he was slightly amused that he’d guessed right on the first try. If she hadn’t been there, he might’ve had a few and then gone driving around looking for the cop cars, but this would save him the trip. Smirking a tiny bit as she immediately turned away from him, he sauntered in her direction, pulling his gloves off and unzipping his coat. He climbed onto the stool right next to her and settled in, cracking his knuckles before he rested his hands on the bar. “Hey sis,” he said conversationally, like it hadn’t been several years since he’d laid eyes on her. She didn’t look much different. He upnodded at the bartender and ordered his drink with a simple, “bourbon, neat.”
Bailey had to resist downing her vodka tonic at the sound of his voice. Instead, she took a sip, still watching the television until after he ordered his bourbon. When she finally looked at Kane, it was with a bored expression. "Why are you here?" He had to have a reason. They checked in with each other every few months, just to make sure the other was living, but this was the very last place Bailey thought she would see him. They hadn't seen each other since their father died, and it was so strange to see him in the flesh now. Some part of her wanted to hug him. The other part wanted to slip off the chair and head out of the bar, get into her car and drive right out of town. But her brother had always invoked strange, conflicting emotions inside of her, and that apparently had not changed.
“That any way to greet your long lost brother?” Kane asked, his tone still light and reasonable. It didn’t shock him in the slightest that she wasn’t super happy to see him. They’d never been on great terms, very different people even growing up, and adulthood hadn’t fixed that. Still, she was his only sibling and Kane was glad that she looked fairly healthy and employed, at least. The bartender slid his drink to him, and Kane picked up the glass for a sip. “You said Mom wasn’t doing great. I came to check up on that. Figured it’d been long enough. When’d you roll back in?” He had more business in town that had nothing to do with family, but he could at least use their mother’s illness as something of a cover.
Bailey knew for a fact that Kane hadn't come back here because of their mother. The only reason Bailey had done it was because there was no one else. They couldn't find Kane. But Bailey was a police officer. She was much easier to track down. The responsibility had fallen on her shoulders. "You're right, for my long lost brother, it should've been why the fuck are you here." There was no malice in her voice, no anger. Bailey took another drink, the ice clinking in her glass. She wanted a fourth, but knew driving home would be difficult enough already. After watching the bartender walk away, Bailey went back to watching the television, ignoring his question about when she got back into town. "You could have called me about mom. What do you think you're going to be able to do about it while you're here? Help me pay the bills? Take care of her? Pick up her meds and wipe her ass if the nurse calls off sick?"
Kane chuckled at her self-edit, smirking into his bourbon. She was always so prickly, and he honestly loved that about her. It was a tough fucking world, and everybody who wanted to survive it had to be tough too. Kane checked in with his sister every few months, but if he didn’t think she could handle herself, he would’ve done so with more frequency. Not that he felt much responsibility toward her, but he wasn’t a complete monster. “Maybe I’ll skip the ass wiping, but I can definitely help with money,” he said. That much was true, Kane wasn’t exactly hurting for funds. “I can help handle her affairs. When the time comes. You sayin’ you don’t want the help?” The last part came out kind of sarcastically surprised, and he arched a thick brow at her.
"I'm saying I don't need the help," Bailey corrected. She finally tore her eyes away from the television to look at him. Bailey didn't want to be here, talking to him. She didn't want to be in Point Pleasant at all. But circumstances were what they were, and even if she and her mom had a difficult relationship, the least Bailey could do was be there for her as she faded away. Then maybe she could leave and never look back. For good this time. That's what she thought Kane had done. "Forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical of your reasons for being here. The only reason I'm here is because I have to be. And you hated this place way more than I ever did." Which was saying a lot, because Bailey had despised Point Pleasant growing up. That was probably why she ran off with the first guy who had a bit of money in his pocket and got married.
He met her eyes, and he found he could see more fine lines around them than he remembered. Kane was sure he looked more weathered himself than he had the last time Bailey had seen him. Neither of them were living easy lives, though he was sure his sister’s was much more virtuous, what with her being a cop and all. “Well, maybe I got multiple reasons that aren’t your concern,” he said, cocking a challenging brow at her. Kane wasn’t going to answer any real questions about his motivations, and he thought Bailey ought to know that. She likely wouldn’t believe him even if he tried to tell her. There were no laws on the books for what he did so he wasn’t technically breaking any of them. Well, maybe one or two. “But aight ... if you don’t want help, you don’t want help. I’ll stay out of it.” He lifted his glass again.
Bailey wasn't surprised that Kane had other reasons for being here. She had just wanted him to admit it. She also knew better than to try and pry out of him what those reasons were. Bailey continued to study his profile as he drank from his glass. Sometimes she wondered if they would have had a better relationship if they'd had different parents. Of course they would have. Probably. But Bailey had long left behind the what if aspects of her life. "Just don't make me arrest you. That's all I really want." She picked up her own glass to finish off her drink. "And you should go see her, even if you don't do anything else. She's asked about you twice since I've been back."
Kane had zero plans to get arrested while he was in town, and he honestly thought he could probably talk his way out of it with Bailey if she was the one who showed up. Depending on what he was doing, he supposed. He’d never been caught in the act and he didn’t plan to start now. “I’ll go see her,” Kane replied with a nod, once he’d knocked back the last of his drink. He’d planned on doing that anyway, of course, but if it made Bailey feel better to boss him around, then he would let her have it. “And I’ll honestly do what I can. While not breaking enough laws to make you cuff me.” He met her gaze again and gave her a little smirk. “And if somebody else arrests me? Promise I won’t drop your name.” His smirk turned into a small grin to show he was teasing. Mostly.
Bailey couldn't help but feel an intensely uncomfortable twinge in her gut, listening to Kane. It wasn't necessarily anything he was saying. But his voice. It invoked a lot of memories, good and bad, but mostly bad. It was hard enough being back in Point Pleasant, dealing with their mother, and now Kane was there too, and it felt suffocating. Bailey set her empty glass aside and motioned for the bartender to get her another when she caught his eye. Driving home was going to be a bitch, but she could manage. High-functioning alcoholic. That's what her therapist had told her. When Bailey had actually seen a therapist. She already dealt with daily cravings to drink, and his presence only seemed to exacerbate it. "How long do you plan on staying?" Bailey asked, ignoring the teasing. This town was small enough that she doubted it would stay secret very long that they were related. Not that it was a secret, but people liked to talk and if someone saw Kane at their mother's house... well, the talking would commence.
He was no teetotaling prude, but Kane had to wonder how many drinks Bailey had had before he’d walked in. He was sure she was driving herself home, she was too proud to ask for help most of the time. He silently decided to follow her and make sure she got there okay. While the bartender was paying attention to them, he gestured that he wanted another too, but that would be the last one for him. Kane knew this town too well to go stumbling around drunk in it, at least not right away, before he got his bearings in Point Pleasant again. He had work to do, he had to stay sharp. Bailey’s question earned her a sideways look, and Kane wet his lips. “Don’t really know yet,” he said, and that was truthful enough. Until it stops being profitable would just invite more questions he didn’t want to answer. “Why? You kicking me out already?” Kane would stay out of her way if she stayed out of his, he figured she would know that, but it had been a long time since they’d last shared a town.
Bailey smirked and picked up her fresh drink. "Would you actually go if I said yes?" She already knew the answer to that. But Point Pleasant was far too small for the both of them. Or maybe it wasn't and Bailey was exaggerating the issue in her mind. Their mom needed her, and maybe their mom needed Kane too. Ellen had never been there when they needed her, but she'd given them life, blah, blah, blah... this was the least they could do for her. Maybe Bailey could just swallow down her prior resentments and memories with the vodka in her hand and she and Kane could co-exist in the same place for a while. That was what her brain told her anyway. Her mouth, on the other hand... "It just feels like a bad omen that we're both here at the same time," she said, not entirely aware of the words until she actually said them.
Bailey might have been his little sister and therefore could get away with more with him than almost everyone else on the planet, but Kane wasn’t going to let her run him out of town. He just chuckled at her first question. This was his fucked up hometown just as much as it was hers, and he had every right to be there and bleed it dry of what it owed him. Their mother’s slow death was just part of what had drawn him back in, Kane was going to make the most of his time in Point Pleasant. What a misnomer, there wasn’t a damn thing pleasant about it. “Does it?” he asked Bailey, quirking an amused eyebrow. “And when have you ever had a good omen, huh? Tell me that. Think those motherfuckers are always bad. And mom’s dyin’, so ... maybe that’s it. Most people would say that’s bad.” Kane didn’t feel the same way about their proximity, but maybe he lacked a woman’s intuition or whatever.
"There can be good omens," Bailey said, simply for the sake of arguing, because she couldn't think of any moment where she'd felt an omen that was positive. It was hard to think of anything positive with Kane sitting beside her, as sad as that was. "But they probably don't exist here." And she knew their mother was dying, that's why she was home, but Bailey still felt an uncomfortable clench in her stomach to hear Kane say it out loud. She took a long drink from her glass, her gaze shifting back to the television. She was starting to feel the alcohol, but in a good, numbing way. That's what she had wanted. "Mom dying... it's not a bad omen," Bailey said once she set her glass back down. "It's just part of life. Nature and all that. You and me being here is different. Don't ask me how though, because I don't know how. Not yet anyway."
Kane hadn’t meant that the death was the omen, instead maybe what the omen was ‘warning’ her about, but he didn’t bother to clarify. He knew better than most what death was, but he didn’t want to get into that either. He planned to be the one to usher his mother across the threshold of death, to make sure her soul passed through the barrier without being taken. Kane didn’t feel that he owed her that, exactly, but it still felt like the right thing to do. In any case, that was between him and his mother, not Bailey. Kane shrugged and lifted his fresh drink for a swallow; he believed in omens, but he also believed in bigger things. “Well if you figure it out, drop me a line,” he told her, glancing over again. “You know how this fuckin’ place is. ‘Til then, I’ll stay outta your way, Officer Jansen.”
Bailey winced at being called Officer. "Don't call me that. I mean, unless I'm on duty and you're getting into trouble." She quickly downed the rest of her drink, ignoring how the ice cubes hadn't yet begun to melt and clanked together against the glass. Wiping her mouth when she finished, Bailey reached into her bag for cash. "I have to go. Early morning." Bailey wasn't sure how much cash she was actually tossing onto the bar top, but it didn't matter. She just wanted to go. Getting off of the chair was the easy part, although it took her a brief moment to steady herself before she slid her bag strap onto her shoulder and turned to Kane. "Are you going to tell me where you're staying?"
Kane felt a flicker of concern at Bailey’s lack of immediate balance, but he didn’t say anything. He noted how much money she tossed on the bar and wondered how many she’d had again. Once she was out of the bar, he would knock back his own drink and then go out to get in the Tahoe and follow her. It wasn’t his business if she got into an accident or caught a DUI -- did cops even give those to each other? Kane suspected they didn’t, fucking pigs -- but he still felt the tug to watch out for her a bit. It was just best that she didn’t know he was doing it. “Maybe if you actually ask me, who the fuck knows?” he retorted, getting a little annoyed by all those questions that assumed him to be the asshole. Maybe he’d earned that reputation with her, maybe not, but Kane didn’t honestly want friction with the only family he had left.
"Where are you staying?" Bailey asked pointedly, because maybe drunk or not, she picked up on the mild annoyance in his tone. She was self-aware enough to know that she preferred to treat him like the asshole because it was easier to deal with him when he was annoyed with her. That was probably unhealthy, or toxic, or however her ex-therapist would have described it, but Bailey simply handled people better when they were pissed off at her. It was easier not to care then. Easier to compartmentalize things. That was probably one of the reasons she was divorced now. One of many reasons, but one of them, regardless.
Kane was tempted not to answer, or to lie to her. He wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like she couldn’t easily check, even if she didn’t know what car he drove now and he’d used his alias when he checked in. Cops always had extra access, and in a town this size, nobody could hide for long. Nobody human, anyway. “That sleazy little place out by Cherries,” he answered after a beat. “Forget the name. Motel 7 or 12 or whatever the fuck. That’s where I’m at for now.” He scooped up a small handful of peanuts from the bowl on the bar and popped them into his mouth, crunching as he stared at her. “You sure you’re good to get home?” he asked, aware that it would probably irk her.
A shitty motel didn't surprise her, but it still felt like something of a relief. He was close, but still somewhat out of town. Maybe he would change his mind later and find a place in Point Pleasant, but the Juniper was his only option unless he rented a shitty trailer in Seaview. Bailey didn't answer his question, however, but it did irk her and she was sure he could tell in the way her brow arched before she pulled her keys out of her bag. "Goodnight, Kane." And she began to walk to the door, very deliberately focused on her legs, making sure they were walking normally, in a straight line. What was he going to do, call the cops on her if she drove? Fuck. She just needed to be outside in the cold air, let it sober her up some before she drove. Bailey could handle herself.
“A’ight then,” Kane murmured as his sister walked away. He watched the way she moved and he could tell that she really shouldn’t be driving. Not that he’d never done the same. He wasn’t sure where she was staying and knew he wouldn’t get an answer even if he asked, especially now, but he hoped it wasn’t far. The more cantankerous parts of Kane’s brain tried to say that he didn’t give a shit again, but he knew better than that. Once Bailey was through the door, Kane shook his head and tilted his glass up to down the rest of his drink. He pulled his wallet out to pay his tab and then ambled toward the door himself. He would give Bailey a few minutes to get in her car and start off, then he would follow and make sure she got home safe. It was the least he could do.