Kane Owen (sellingsouls) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2021-10-19 19:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | #june 2018, bailey, bailey x kane, kane |
Who: Bailey and Kane
When: early morning, Tuesday, June 19th
Where: a gas station, car, Kane's place
Status: complete
Bailey was just leaving the Porch when her phone buzzed with a message in her back pocket. She hadn’t had too much to drink tonight, mostly because she felt ready to go home and crawl into bed after a particularly long day at work. So there was a sense of trepidation as she pulled her phone from her pocket to glance at who might be trying to reach her at this hour. Barrett would have just called and she didn’t have many friends in town so Bailey sort of already knew it would be her brother. And he never texted or called just to shoot the shit.
Opening the message, Bailey frowned. Then groaned.
I'm an idiot who got tranq'ed, I'm at the gas station by Cherries, can you come check on me?
Come check on him? What the fuck did that mean? Was she supposed to drive by? yup, you’re still alive. ttyl!
After the initial rush of annoyance, concern settled in. Irritable concern. How the hell did he get tranq’ed and who did it? Maybe he was hitting on one of the dancers at Cherries and she taught him a lesson. The thought made Bailey snort loudly with amusement before she started for her car, clumsily thumbing in a short response. omw
Bailey grumbled to herself for the entire drive but reminded herself that at least he wasn’t bleeding out like the last time. Assuming he hadn’t been hit with a fatal dose, he’d recover from a tranquilizer.
She was finishing up a cigarette when she pulled into the gas station and her gaze fell upon Kane’s car. The gas station itself wasn’t terribly busy, so she wasn’t worried about what people might see. Parking beside him, she climbed out of her car and wandered over to peer into the window. She found him in the back seat and not knowing yet whether or not he was awake, Bailey rapped loudly on the glass with her knuckles.
Kane was not awake, nor had he been since he’d been chained to a bed out in the middle of Blackwater Woods. He was blissfully unaware that Adrian had apparently tossed him in the back of his SUV and driven it back to the gas station where the night had begun. He was slumped in a rather uncomfortable position, but he wasn’t aware of that either. Or that Adrian had used his phone to reach out to Bailey before he’d left him there. Kane wasn’t even dreaming, he was just floating along in internal blackness, and the aggressive knock on the window barely made him twitch.
When he didn't stir, Bailey had a brief moment of sinking dread that maybe he was dead. Had he just managed to send that text before passing out? What if he was dead. And why had she gone to drink tonight? It was limiting her brain filters and now she was having difficulty even reaching for the door without her fingers shaking. Cursing under her breath, Bailey tugged the back door open and crawled inside as much as she could with her brother taking up so much room. She immediately felt for a pulse at his neck and once she found it, the tight fist of fear in her gut seemed to ease up a bit. He wasn't dead. "Kane," Bailey said, shaking him a bit. When that didn't seem to work, she slapped his cheek a couple of times, applying more pressure with each one. "Kane, wake up!"
It took a few smacks, but Kane’s consciousness finally started to bubble to the surface. He grunted and his body gave a jerk before one hand came up to clumsily push at her arm. Who the fuck was hitting him? Where was he? For a moment he couldn’t remember anything at all, disoriented even more by the weird angles of everything when his eyes rolled open briefly. Kane knew that everything ached when he moved, especially the side of his neck. “The fuck,” he muttered fuzzily. Some holdover fear stirred awake in his head and he felt like he should be fighting, trying to escape, but everything was so heavy and clumsy, and the world was still spinny.
He had definitely been drugged. Bailey eyed him with more concern than annoyance now and she was starting to work out how she might get him into her car. The last time he had called her for help, he had been conscious. "You told me you got tranq'ed," she reminded him while grabbed at his shoulders to get him upright so she could get a better look at him. "Does anything hurt?" Bailey didn't see any visible wounds or injuries but that didn't mean anything. Whoever, or whatever, had hurt him could have done something to him internally and Bailey wondered if it would be better to call for an ambulance. It was a fleeting thought that she quickly dismissed because Kane would hate that.
The words didn’t make any sense to Kane, and the motion of being pulled into a sitting position made his stomach churn unhappily. He groaned and tried to focus, one hand moving to grip Bailey’s arm. Bailey was here? Since when? He struggled to come up with the last thing he could remember, and all he could recall was being chained up and in danger. Things did hurt, but what hurt most was his neck, and Kane lifted his free hand -- which somehow weighed a million pounds -- to rub at it. “It’s too ... bright,” he muttered, struggling to make his eyes focus as he squinted at their surroundings. There were too many lights, which meant he wasn’t out in the woods anymore. “Where’s this?”
"A gas station," Bailey said, reaching down to gently pull his fingers away from her arm as she slipped into the car a bit more to sit on the seat beside him. "And you look like shit. What the hell happened to you?" She was already looking around for his car keys, wondering if she ought to just drive his car back to get him home. But she didn't want to leave her car there in the parking lot and have to come back for it. It would be nice if, for once, he just got hurt while he was out walking so she didn't have to worry about the damn vehicles later.
A gas station? And Bailey had found him somehow? Things were slowly coming together in Kane’s brain again, and he scrubbed his hands over his face hard to try and wake himself up a bit more. He’d been in the woods last, in a cabin, his safehouse ... with Adrian. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, sitting up and twisting to look around the outside of the car. He half expected Adrian’s face to be in one of the windows as a nasty surprise, but they seemed to be alone. “Adrian Moretti,” Kane mumbled, though it wasn’t quite an explanation. He looked at his sister, still struggling to catch up. “Wait ... what’d you say? How’d you know again?”
Adrian Moretti. The guy who had stabbed Kane earlier and nearly killed him. Bailey studied Kane, her brows furrowed. She was suddenly of the mind to track the guy down herself and haul him into the station for questioning. But given Kane's occupation, Bailey knew that pulling her cop card would likely make things worse. "I said you look like shit," Bailey said shortly, though she knew that's not what he meant. "You texted me, dumbass. You told me you got tranq'ed and that you were at the gas station by Cherries, although... now I'm thinking that wasn't you." Bailey glanced behind her, out the window to observe their surroundings. She doubted this was some kind of ambush, but she wanted to make sure no one was watching or approaching their cars. "Apparently someone wanted to make sure you got home okay. Can you make it into my car?"
Kane knew for sure that he hadn’t been the one to send that text. The last memory he had was of his hands being cuffed together and chained to a bed. Which would’ve been a nice memory in most other circumstances, but not in this one -- though he distinctly recalled being turned on by Adrian’s weight in his lap, too. Kane started patting down the pockets of his jacket to look for his phone, disturbed that Adrian had used it and confused that he’d apparently used it to contact Bailey. That couldn’t have been out of concern, could it? There was nothing in his pockets, so Kane reached for the front seats to haul himself halfway through so he could check the center console. “Yeah, just ... help me find my phone,” he muttered to his sister. “Fuckin’ asshole texted you, not me.”
Bailey slid out of the car and moved around it to tug open the front passenger side door. "He almost killed you before, do you remember that?" Bailey began to reach down between the seats in case the phone had fallen. Maybe Moretti had taken it. "And now you're waking up sedated in a gas station parking lot. Maybe it's time to let this guy go." She didn't feel anything between the seats so she reached out to open the glovebox. Inside was his phone. And a gun. "Here." Bailey reached in to pull out his belongings, offering them to her brother. She knew she sounded irritated, but it was really just masking her concern and fear that the next time she got a call or text, it would be to tell her Kane was dead.
Kane just grunted some noncommittal answer as he reached for the phone, relieved to also see his wallet in the small stack of personal stuff. He was further relieved to find that Adrian hadn’t locked him out of his phone or anything. Frowning, Kane checked his texts and saw that the invader had only reached out to Bailey. It gave him weird feelings. Adrian had obviously been serious about not wanting to kill him. When he checked his wallet, everything was in it but the cash. Hell, Adrian hadn’t even emptied the clip in his pistol. He wanted to get out and check everything in the back to make sure none of his arsenal was missing, but he still felt slow and heavy and tired. Kane sighed and sat back as he stuffed his things back into his pockets. “I had him this time,” he muttered. “But he turned it on me. Fuckin’ ... but I was right, Bails, he ain’t human. Not all the way, anyway.”
Frustrated, Bailey climbed out of his car and shut the door with some force. While she knew Kane could take care of himself, there was something about this that didn't sit right with her. It made her stomach feel strange and she had the strongest urge to shake him until he listened to her. Coming around to the open back door, she gripped the frame with both hands and leaned in slightly. "I don't give a shit what he is, Kane. You almost died six months ago because of him. He turned it around on you then too, didn't he? And he didn't have to leave you alive tonight either. He could have emptied your clip into your head, do you get that? Leave him alone."
Adrian’s words -- maybe you’re just a shitty hunter -- echoed in Kane’s mind. They made him want to dig his heels in and tell Bailey to fuck off, that he was going to do whatever it took to ... something. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do anymore. He’d thought his goal was to get information out of Adrian and then kill him, but it turned out that Adrian didn’t really know anything useful, and Kane had blown every opportunity he’d had to do the latter. He hadn’t even wanted to kill him, when they were face to face. The other things he’d wanted to do ... fuck, what a fucked up day. Kane stared hard at Bailey for a moment before his expression softened. “Yeah, you’re right,” he muttered. Adrian had stayed faithful to their agreement that it was over, and even if the ‘why’ of it plagued Kane, that should be that. Moving slowly, Kane started to pull himself out of the back seat. He wanted to be home in bed, that was all.
Bailey returned his stare with a rather firm one of her own. When he relented, some of the tension eased in her shoulders. She had no idea if Kane was agreeing with her because he agreed with her, or because he wanted her to shut up. Ultimately, it probably didn't matter. If he had told her to fuck off she probably would have told him to drive his own drugged ass home. But since he was moving to get out of the car, Bailey stepped back to give him room, ready to catch him if his legs were still feeling weak. "I'll drive you back out here tomorrow to get your car," she said. "Do you need anything else from your car?"
Once his boots were on the ground, Kane leaned heavily against the SUV and patted down his pockets again. He had his phone, keys, wallet, gun ... what else did he need? The most territorial part of him wanted to load up Bailey’s car with all of his weapons and ammo from the back, then take the plates off the SUV and just abandon it. Someone else had driven it, someone he was not a fan of -- or was he? -- and it felt tainted now. But maybe he would feel differently in the morning. She would call him stupid for it anyway, he was sure. “No,” he answered Bailey. Kane shut the car door and fished his keys out to hit the button to lock it up, swaying on his feet a bit. “Just need some sleep.” He turned to shuffle toward Bailey’s vehicle, still woozy.
Bailey moved past Kane to open the passenger door of her car for him. Once he was inside, she exhaled and rounded the vehicle to climb back into the driver's side where she started up the engine. "What happened tonight?" she asked Kane, once she started pulling out of the parking lot. "What were you doing?" As far as Bailey knew, Adrian Moretti was "alive" and working to get his shit together. Maybe he wasn't fully human, but he was obviously somewhat human. Bailey wanted to know what had led Kane to be tranquilized. What had Adrian been doing before that? What had Kane been doing before that?
Kane slouched low in the seat. He wanted a cigarette really badly, but he didn’t know where his were now, and he felt too heavy to start rooting through Bailey’s stuff. He gave a pathetic little groan at her questions. He didn’t want to answer either of them, but he knew she would probably bother him until he did, so he wouldn’t be able to put her off completely. But trying to remember and find the right way to answer drew up some questions in his own mind. “Did you feel fucked up yesterday?” he asked, squinting over at her. “Like ... I dunno, not really in control of yourself?” It hadn’t been exactly like the night he’d killed Adrian, he hadn’t been that far gone, but ... there had been something.
Bailey didn't care that Kane didn't want to answer her questions. This was the second time she had been called to help him after a bad run-in with Adrian Moretti and she felt like she deserved to know what was going on. His question wasn't really what she was looking for and Bailey glanced at him, her brows furrowed. "I always feel fucked up, Kane. But yesterday, no, not any more than usual. I worked all day..." She trailed off before sighing. "And yeah, we had more calls into the station than usual. A few arrests too. Is that what this is? You weren't yourself again, so you found the guy who knifed you in January to stick another sharp object in your body?"
He didn’t have the brainpower to even address ‘I always feel fucked up,’ so Kane just let it sail over his head. It was validating to hear that the police station had been extra busy with fucked up people, it sounded like Point Pleasant’s assholeness had struck again. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes wearily. “It wasn’t the same,” he muttered. “But ... yeah, kinda. It was so impulsive ...” Kane knew that wasn’t a satisfactory explanation, especially for his law enforcement sister, but he was embarrassed to admit what he’d done. Now that his head was clearing, he could see that Adrian was acting in self defense again, and Kane was lucky he hadn’t been killed this time. “I grabbed him from that gas station, and we had ... an interesting night,” he muttered.
"Yeah, sure seems like it," Bailey said. Digging around in her console, she found her cigarettes and kept her eyes on the road as she worked one out to slip between her lips. She was feeling especially fucked up tonight, but for entirely different reasons. Reasons Kane probably wouldn't even bother to understand. "That seems to be the going excuse for all the bullshit in this town. I wasn't myself. Are you just going to keep impulsively grabbing this guy until one of you is dead?" She got her cigarette lit and dropped her lighter back into the console before cracking the window.
Kane was glad she wasn’t pushing for more details. He didn’t want to tell his sister that he had a safehouse in the woods where he’d chained a man up like a piece of meat. Luckily none of Kane’s darker impulses had gone too far, and he was dimly grateful to Red for letting him fuck himself out earlier in the day. Otherwise Adrian probably would have killed him once he’d gotten free. He would’ve deserved it, too. Kane was a lot of bad things, but he wasn’t a rapist. Bailey’s disgusted tone made him feel worse, and he tried to let it sink into his tired brain to deter him from doing this stupid shit again. “No,” he murmured, sounding defeated. “It’s over.” He wanted a cigarette really badly, but didn’t want to ask for one, so he didn’t.
She had no idea if she believed him or not. She didn't know half the shit her brother got up to. Almost dying should have been enough for him to leave it alone, but he hadn't done that. Bailey took a long drag from her cigarette and fell into silence. She was still angry but she supposed she ought to be grateful that Moretti hadn't done anything worse to Kane. And that the man had texted Bailey to come and find him. Finally, Bailey looked over at Kane as they approached town. "You said it's over... and I'm going to believe you. He has a family, Kane. And so do you." Her cigarette was nearly gone, but she offered the rest to him anyway.
He let the silence stretch on, staring listlessly out the window and feeling shitty. Kane was remembering more and more as the tranq wore off, and he knew he and Adrian had agreed that it was over ... as long as they stayed away from each other’s sisters. Did texting Bailey count as not staying away? Had Adrian been camped out somewhere, out of sight, watching them? Did he know what Bailey looked like now? All of it put a cold dread in the pit of his stomach. Bailey’s voice drew him back into the present, and he looked over at her in time to accept the last of the cigarette. He cracked his own window and took a drag. “I thought about you a lot,” he said quietly. “When I thought he was gonna kill me. I’m not used to havin’ anybody to think about.”
She glanced briefly at him, maybe not surprised that he had thought about her, but surprised that he would admit it. Maybe he really had thought Moretti was going to kill him. Facing death shifted priorities in a lot of people though, so maybe he felt like he wanted to tell her. Or he was still drugged and would regret it later. Bailey had to bite back the urge to tell him to think about her the next time he was tempted to go after Moretti... because Kane had said it was over and she had told him she believed him. "Think about me again the next time you almost do something stupid," she said, her tone losing a lot of its sharpness. She was quiet for a beat before speaking again. Maybe it was just easier to speak when it was so dark outside, like it helped mask some of the emotion in her face. "You're my family. We're already losing mom... I don't want to lose you too."
Kane wasn’t looking at her anyway, too much emotion written all over his own face. Maybe it was best for both of them to talk without looking. Bailey had definitely been on his mind after Adrian turned the tables on him, both regret that she would never know what happened to him and a fierce protectiveness that surprised him a little now. Even consumed with whatever fuckery had taken him over, he’d been worried about his baby sister. Hopefully Adrian had felt similarly, and it would keep both of them away from each other. Kane shut his eyes and let Bailey’s words sink in. Maybe he was still drugged and stupid-brained and exhausted, but he kind of wanted to cry. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had that urge. “I’m sorry, Bailey,” he murmured after a long moment. He meant it for so much more than just that night. “You’re my family too.”
What was going on in her gut was a strange combination of uncomfortable and cathartic. Bailey and her brother had never handled emotions very well, though that wasn't surprising, growing up the way they had. I love you was not a phrase heard in their household. Even physical affection had been in short supply. It was difficult for Bailey to admit to Kane that she was scared he would die and leave her alone. It felt like they had started to become more than just blood-related strangers and maybe Bailey needed someone in her life she could depend on. These were all things that she wished she could say but the words died on her tongue. It was hard enough admitting that she didn't want to lose him. Baby steps, she supposed. "I don't want you to apologize," she muttered finally. "I just want you to stay alive. It's the only thing I'll ever ask of you, okay? Please don't die on me."
There was so much unsaid between them, and there had been for a very long time and maybe always would be. Kane didn’t know if they would ever be those effusive and affectionate types of people. They weren’t raised that way, and everything else they’d been through in their lives had hardened them up further. He loved his sister more than anyone else on the planet, with the possible exception of their mother, but Kane had never said that, so he didn’t know if she knew. Not that his love was worth much, really. He was a fucked up mess, constantly surrounded by death and danger. All he did was cause damage. It was hard for him to reconnect with being a person. Kane finished up the stub of a cigarette and flicked it out the window. “I’ll do my best,” he murmured. “I can’t stop what I do, but I’ll ... be more careful. Stick to what I’m good at.” There were plenty of monsters to kill who weren’t Adrian Moretti, Kane knew that. He wasn’t a shitty hunter, he was a damn good one, he’d just met his match, and it had to be over.
Bailey would never ask Kane to stop hunting. She imagined it was to him what being a cop was to her. She just wanted him to let this one go, to make smarter decisions. Obviously, he had Point Pleasant working against him, but they all did. "Are you confident that he's going to leave you alone too?" she asked after a moment. Because Bailey would absolutely track Adrian Moretti down and threaten him herself if she had to. She could fuck up his life as much as Kane could, just in a completely different way. Kane was promising that it was over, but would Moretti hold to that as well?
Kane gave it some real thought before he answered. He remembered Adrian almost begging him, saying he just wanted his life back, and then there had been that switch ... but he could’ve killed Kane a hundred times over. He didn’t even have to be messy about it, he could’ve overdosed him on tranquilizers and left his body for Bailey to find, or just tossed him out in the woods. But no, he’d brought him back to the gas station, texted Kane’s only relative, and then left him there to be quasi-rescued. Adrian had stuck to his word. Kane hated that it made him want to talk to the man again. “Yeah, I’m pretty confident of it,” he told Bailey. “I think if he really wanted me dead he would’ve done it tonight. We agreed to end it. ... Right before he fuckin’ tranq’d me, but hey.” Kane gave a low chuckle.
That was likely true. Kane would be dead if Moretti wanted him to be. "You probably deserved it," Bailey muttered, but she was relieved. Hopefully, this would be the last time Kane, or someone, texted her about him needing help. Not that she would say no if it happened again, she just hoped it wouldn't. Since they were back in town, Bailey fell silent again as she drove towards Kane's apartment. At least there was a bottle of Jack waiting for her back at her place.
He couldn’t really argue with that, so he didn’t try, just huffed a soft breath through his nose and let the silence descend on them again. There was something a little more warm about it this time though, at least on Kane’s end. He’d lived most of his life not thinking about anyone caring about him, but he was obviously going to have to start doing that. Once he learned how. Not getting himself killed was as good a place to start as any, he supposed. He would try. Kane let his head fall back and looked through the window, drowsiness creeping over him again.
Bailey was more than fine with the silence. Kane looked exhausted and Bailey was starting to feel it too. When she finally pulled into the parking lot of Kane's apartment complex, she glanced at him. "You feel okay, right? I can call and get someone to come look at you if you want." She already knew the answer to that but Bailey felt like she ought to offer anyway. Tranquilizers were no joke but by all accounts, it didn't look like Kane had had any strange reaction to whatever it was Moretti injected him with. Maybe all he needed was a warm bed to sleep all of this off.
Kane had dozed a tiny bit, but the turn woke him up more and he realized he was almost home. It was partially a huge relief and partially sad, because he would be walking into an empty apartment. Kane didn’t get lonely very often, but after the night he’d had, part of him didn’t want Bailey to leave. It was a weird, vulnerable feeling that he wasn’t sure he liked. “No, m’fine,” he muttered as Bailey pulled into a spot. Kane didn’t reach for the door right away, just sitting there a moment and staring into the breezeway of his building. “You wanna come in for a drink?” Kane finally asked, looking over at her.
Bailey had already planned to drive home and have a few drinks alone. Tonight had been nerve-wracking and the emotional vulnerability was swirling around uncomfortably in her stomach. She wanted to retreat and regroup on her own because on her own was really the only time she felt truly safe. But there was something in Kane's tone that had Bailey reconsidering. He wouldn't have asked her if he wanted her to say no. After a moment of thought, she shrugged and grinned at him. "Sure, but only if you promise we won't talk about feelings anymore."
He probably shouldn’t be drinking after being dosed with a decently powerful tranquilizer, but Kane didn’t give a fuck. He needed a shot of something to further shut his brain off. And as much as he hated it, he desperately wanted company while he completely relaxed and went to sleep. It wasn’t that he intellectually thought Adrian would come for him where he lived, but knowing Bailey was there watching his back, even for a little while, would help him doze off. Kane gave his sister a crooked little smile back. “We don’t gotta talk about anything, promise,” he said as he reached for the door handle. “Just hang out with me for a bit.”
Not talking sounded pretty great. And while she didn't think anything, or anyone, would be coming for Kane tonight, Bailey thought maybe it was better that she stick around for a bit, just in case. Bailey climbed out of the car and locked it up after Kane followed, keeping an eye on him in case he was still feeling woozy and needed help. "Are you hungry?" she asked, slipping her car keys into her jacket pocket. "When's the last time you had something to eat?" Maybe he needed some water and food. Bailey wasn't the nurturing type, exactly, but she felt like she ought to make sure Kane was taken care of before she bailed for the night.
Kane was more steady on his feet walking to his apartment door than he had been going from car to car earlier, so he didn’t need any help. Nor did he need to be fussed over, and he frowned vaguely as he found his front door key on the ring from his pocket. “I dunno ... this afternoon? But no, m’not hungry,” he answered in a mutter. Kane let them into his apartment and almost felt weird walking into it, like he wasn’t the same person who’d left, somehow. Maybe he wasn’t. Or maybe his head was just all fucked up from everything that had gone down. He locked up again behind Bailey and shuffled to sit on the arm of the couch to pull his boots off. “But help yourself if you are. And grab me a beer?”
Bailey shrugged out of her light jacket and headed for the kitchen. She wasn't hungry but she could have a beer with her brother. When she returned she handed Kane his beer and then sat to open her own. He looked exhausted, which was to be expected. She wondered if it was the tranq or if he was just shaken by what had happened to him. This couldn't have been the first time he had something, or someone, get the jump on him, even if he had come out on top before. Settling back into the chair, Bailey took a drink of beer and glanced around the apartment. "This place is still as sparse as mine is. You should at least put some art on the wall or something. People're going to think you're some kind of serial killer when you bring them home."
Kane was slumped on the couch by the time Bailey returned with a beer for him, and he grunted a thanks as he took it and put it to his lips. He snorted a bit as he swallowed, then slouched further. “I don’t bring anybody here,” he muttered. Noone had been in his apartment except his sister. That was probably sad, but whatever. Kane didn’t develop the kind of connections with people that resulted in home visits. “Plus, I am a serial killer,” he added. A faint smirk crossed his face, but there wasn’t much humor in it, and it didn’t last long. “Why don’t you decorate? You’re more likely to have a man over than me, right?”
Bailey huffed a small laugh before taking another drink. It was probably sad that they both lived in pretty empty apartments. She was slowly picking up things here and there that she liked but she still hadn't bothered finding a bedframe or a suitable table. Maybe there was a part of her that felt like she might still make it out of Point Pleasant again someday, so why get comfortable? But the more rational side of her brain was pretty sure she was here to stay. "I've had men over," Bailey said with a shrug. "But it's not like I'm inviting them to dinner and they don't spend the night. I don't think lacking art on the walls is going to hurt my chances of getting laid. But women are different. We're more inclined to look at a guy's lack of, well, anything in his apartment and get weirded out."
“True,” Kane murmured. It made sense for women, but he wasn’t exactly thinking of bringing a woman home at the moment. Would Adrian care that his walls were bare and he had minimal furniture? Probably not. But that wasn’t happening either because it was crazy and they were staying away from each other. It was over. So Kane had to get over it too. If he broke his own rules and invited Red over, would his place make her nervous? Even thinking about it was weird and felt wrong. He didn’t really want anyone in his personal space, just like he didn’t want anyone under his skin. He was better off alone. “If I meet a woman who might want anything to do with me, I’ll put some posters up or something. Thanks for the advice.” Kane huffed a laugh and sucked down some more beer.
Bailey smirked. "Art, not posters. You're not in college." As much as she wished Kane had chosen a different path in life, it was hard for her to imagine him in a relationship. A wife, maybe kids. A white picket fence. That might happen in a parallel universe but not this one. She had done the marriage thing and it had ended up being a disaster. Imagining herself with a kid just made her shudder. Bailey felt like it was difficult enough taking care of herself, she sure as hell knew she couldn't take care of a small human. "Do you even want that?" she asked after a moment, stretching her legs out a bit and resting her beer on her stomach. "A woman? Some kind of normal life?"
Kane had gotten a vasectomy a long time ago to avoid fathering any little bastards, so kids were definitely out of the question. He’d never been able to picture himself settling down with a single woman, and he’d never come across one who made him want to consider it. Of course, Kane had avoided getting emotionally close to anyone for the majority of his life, so maybe that had something to do with it. “Nah, I’m not built for that kinda shit,” he muttered. In his mind, he would never be normal, therefore he could never have a so-called normal life. His life would always be full of death, even if he quit hunting. Who would want to be a part of that, even besides all of the other Issues he had? “What about you? Think you’ll ever try the marriage thing again?”
Bailey had expected that kind of answer, so she wasn't surprised. But would he have been built for that kinda shit if they'd had two parents who had been present for them? Who had showed that they gave a shit? Bailey nursed her beer and sunk a bit deeper into the chair, finding herself more comfortable now that she and Kane were both somewhere safe. The adrenaline and worry from the night had begun to dissipate, sinking into her bones along with the exhaustion. "Nah. I gave it over a decade so I can confidently say it's not for me. I think I'm too selfish for that kind of partnership. And it's a major pain in the ass. You wouldn't believe the bullshit I would have to go through just to get my maiden name back. Maybe I'm not built for it either."
Wanting to get more comfortable himself, Kane shifted around on the couch until he could lie back and stretch out, facing Bailey in her chair. He sipped on his beer some more before he set it down on the floor next to him in easy reach. “Archaic horseshit,” he muttered. He couldn’t even imagine being a woman, getting married, and having to fuck around with all the bureaucratic idiocy. He was silent for a moment, trying to imagine Bailey actually being married. Ten years, and he’d never met her husband. Ex husband, now. Kane felt a little fucked up about it all of the sudden, but what else was new. “Was it ever good though? Being with somebody like that?” At his age it felt weird to admit he’d never had a serious relationship, but Bailey surely knew it was true anyway, and he was curious.
"Yeah, it was good." Bailey shrugged because it didn't make much sense to lie. She wouldn't have stayed married to Pierce for as long as she had if there hadn't been good times. "He got me out of this place, so I'll always be grateful to him for that, even if I did come back. But I was hard to love." It came out of her mouth so simply, something she had always known even if she had never said it out loud. Bailey lifted her beer back to her lips. "So was he, to be fair, so we were just on a collision course with disaster. Things are just easier when you don't have to worry so much about making someone else happy."
Kane very nearly told her that she was easy for him to love. It was on the tip of his tongue, a word he didn’t think he’d ever said to her before, at least not as an adult. Maybe their mom had made them hug and make up with grudging “I love you”s in the distant past. But Kane knew his love was pretty useless to anyone. It wasn’t like he knew how to do it well. It was just another feeling he carried around and never expressed. “Amen to that,” he murmured quietly. He didn’t worry about making anyone happy but himself, and even then he slacked off. Maybe that was part of why his love was trash. “I’m hard to love too,” he offered, his lips quirking slightly. “So you’re not alone there. Lucky us.”
"You really are," Bailey said, a laugh catching in her throat. "But somehow I manage to do it." Which was maybe the closest she could come to telling him that she loved him without actually saying it. Her brain seemed to have a mental block when it came to those three words. Even when she was married it was difficult for her to say. It was like saying I love you to someone else would somehow conjure a target on the back of her neck. Or over her heart. Whatever. Bailey took a long drink of beer, wondering if she would make it home before falling asleep. She supposed she ought to wait until Kane fell asleep to leave, but the chair was significantly more comfortable now than it had been when she first sat in it.
Kane could read between the lines, and he regretted that he hadn’t said something like that first. It was weird to think that Bailey loved him, even if he knew it on some level. Part of him wanted to write it off as her loving the position he held as her brother and not really him, because she barely knew him ... but more of him wanted to cling to anything positive that came his way. He huffed softly and gave her a half-smile. “Maybe it’s genetic, we’re both uniquely talented at loving assholes,” he muttered, but there was no bite at all to it. Kane could see the weariness settling in on Bailey’s features, and he forced himself to sit up with a little groan. He’d wanted her company until he was snoring, but it seemed like maybe both of them needed it. “You should stay the night. You want the couch? Or I could change the sheets and you can take the bed ...?”
Bailey snorted softly and finished off her beer. Their mom had loved an asshole and Bailey's husband had been mostly an asshole and she knew she could be an asshole too. And Kane, well, duh. So maybe he was right. "Nah, I should go home," she said, forcing herself to sit up despite the ache in her bones. "But you were the one tranq'd so you should go to bed and try to get some rest. I can wait a bit if you want me to stay. I can make sure the door is locked and everything." Sleeping over would feel strange and Bailey knew the morning would be awkward if she did. She hated awkward mornings, which was why she never let anyone stay at her place.
He did want her to stay, but he felt pathetic asking for it. He was a grown man -- a scary man, to most of the rest of the world -- and it was embarrassing to want his baby sister to watch his back while he slept. But it had been a fucked up night and he’d almost died, so maybe she wouldn’t judge him for it. “If you don’t mind,” he muttered as he hauled himself to his feet. “Don’t gotta stay long, think I’ll pass out pretty fast. ... sure you’ll be okay to drive?” Kane cocked a brow at her. She would probably be insulted by the question, but he gave a shit about her, so she could get over it.
"I'm fine," Bailey said, shooting a look at him before she stood and walked over to stretch out on the couch he had just vacated. She would wait a bit and then go home. Maybe she would sober up enough that she would be fine to drive home. Bailey had driven home in worse shape, which was not great considering she was a cop, but it was what it was. "Go to bed," she told Kane, fluffing up the couch pillow beneath her head. "Don't forget to brush your teeth."
Kane was tempted to pull her into a hug between the chair and the couch, but he didn’t. He would hug her later, he told himself, when she didn’t have reason to already be annoyed with him. Bailey looked pretty comfy on his couch, so maybe she would pass out too and he could hug her in the morning. The last part made him chuckle and he rolled his eyes before he turned away to shuffle toward the hallway. “Yes ma’am,” he muttered, amused. “Night, Bails.” Thank you and I love you too, he added silently. He would say it some day, but for now it would stay between the lines.