Who:Henry and Revy What: Revy comes to check in on a heartless Henry When: During the Dark One goings on Where:Henry's apartment Rating/Warning: PG for language Status: Complete!
Kenzi had gone out to get them something to eat and probably more cheap wine to drink. Henry had found that attempting to get drunk while emotionless had not been nearly as fun as he’d expected. He should have known better. “Fun” was not concept he could grasp any longer. It had loosened his lips a bit, but he wasn’t feeling the happy warm buzz he normally did when he imbibed more than he should, but that was about all.
While Kenzi was out, Henry passed the time by flipping through one of his car magazines. He’d liked looking at the cars in these magazines. He’d enjoyed learning about them, how fast they could go, what had been done to their design to make them go fast. The technological marvels that kept them lightweight, or made them roar like giant cats, or pur like kittens. Henry had been no car aficionado, but it was his hobby.
Now flipping through the magazine was only something to do as he waited for food.
It sounded like someone was punching the door from the other side but in actuality, it was just the obnoxious way Revy had been knocking. Fist pounding against the wood, raspy voice loud to make sure that was heard too. “Hey, fuckface, open the fucking door! I know you’re in there!”
There wasn’t anything she could do in regards to helping him get his heart back - the possessed shithead that did it was clearly that, influenced by a curse of evil, she didn’t think gunning him down would do much. As reckless as she was, it was still important to pick your battles carefully and she knew from the get-go that this was one she couldn’t exactly protect him from.
Which made her want to shoot something even more but that was besides the fucking point.
At the sound of pounding on his door, Henry looked up from the article on the newest hot rod to come out of Germany. He blinked once before getting to his feet. It sounded as though Revy were attempting to knock his door down with her fist (or maybe her foot, it was hard to tell). As he approached, Henry could hear Revy on the other side, but he checked the peephole anyway. It was a habit he had picked up from his dreams. Yup, there was Revy slamming her fist against the door and looking absolutely livid.
Henry unlocked the deadbolt and removed the chain he’d installed after getting jumped the previous month. He really had to talk himself into that one. After waking up and finding his door chained shut by industrial strength chains, he’d been loathed to add anything to his door that would impede him attempting to get out. On the other hand, he wasn’t particularly keen on anyone else from his friends’ pasts being able to get in. He’d tried not to think about the chain when he could help it.
“The whole floor can hear you,” he told Revy flatly in greeting after he opened the door. It was just an observation. Like Revy would care who heard her. He stepped back and opened the door wider so she could enter.
No, Revy didn’t give a fuck who heard her. It was the same woman who had gunned down his last door during the asscrack of dawn to make sure he wasn’t trapped, and her philosophy about everyone else she didn’t know was simple: go fuck yourself. Now, she always had a classic case of ‘resting bitchface,’ and the mix of concern and irritation definitely made it seem like she was seething, but…
In reality she was looking him over, noting the difference between Henry with a heart and Henry without a heart, and so far Henry without a heart struck her like something of a fleshy robot. Usually their greetings were a little more enthusiastic, a little more fond (as fond as she could get), and it was all off.
“They can eat my asshole,” she grumbled and walked in, taking a note of the more feminine items that occupied his living room. Kenzi’s overnight bag overflowing with corsets, fishnets, boots and heels that looked like they belonged on a platform with a stripper pole. “I didn’t interrupt something, did I? Pretty sure that’s a bra on your floor.”
Henry followed Revy’s eyes towards the floor. He didn’t blush or rush to pick up the discarded undergarment to squirrel it away out of sight either out of embarrassment or save Kenzi some kind of dignity. Instead he just looked at it as if finding a bra on his floor was absolutely normal. “No,” he answered simply. He looked back at Revy. “Kenzi is staying here.” He was pretty sure he’d already told Revy that. No. Wait. Now that he thought about it, he’d just said Kenzi was at the apartment, not that she was staying there. Huh. Probably should have mentioned that. “She went out to get dinner. And probably more wine. Maybe some more licorice. Wine and licorice go well together, apparently.”
He made a vague gesture towards his living room, inviting Revy to come in and make herself at home. “You want anything?” He asked more so out of habit than an attempt to be polite. “There’s rum in the kitchen. Help yourself, if you want any. Might be some snacks in the pantry too.” He shrugged. Someone should eat all the junk food he had stocked up. It simply didn’t appear to him anymore.
He went back to his spot on the couch in front of his open magazine. He did not turn his attention back to it. Revy had come all this way to visit him. He should probably talk to her. “I developed the publicity shots for the latest DVD. They’re on a flashdrive in the bedroom. Do you want them?”
Oh, yeah. Definitely. Fleshy. Fucking. Robot. A brow of hers quirked, and she crossed her arms. Revy was in her typical denim, a tank top (she had the same on in several colors), and a light and tattered leather jacket. “I’ll get some in a minute,” she told him - she’d been by enough to know where he kept his shit, sometimes she just would walk in and help herself. They were at that level of friendship, after everything they’ve gone through. “I miss you being really fucking awkward. Now you’re actually almost smooth.”
Honestly, she had little to no clue about how this entire bullshit worked, but apparently there was a plan in motion and she wished they’d hurry the fuck up so he’d get his heart back and it’d all go back to normal.
“How’s it feel?”
Henry knew Revy was aware of where his rum and snacks were. In fact, it was his friendship with her that made sure he always had a bottle at the ready for whenever she came by. The level of comfort Henry had around Revy was unique, if odd considering how different they were from each other. Even with his emotions, it never bothered him to let her wander around his personal space on her own. She was one of a very small handful of people he trusted that much.
Henry looked at her now with his head slightly tilted to the right as he considered what she’d said. Smooth. No one had ever called him “smooth” before. In fact smooth was about as opposite from Henry as you could get. It was too bad he couldn’t enjoy his new found suave style.
“It doesn’t,” Henry answered her bluntly. “I don’t feel anything.” Which really wasn’t a bad thing considering everything that was going on with those he cared about...or had cared about.
“You might if I backhanded you in the nuts,” she rumbled, a little snarl in her tone but it wasn’t anything specifically directed to him - or, well, technically it was but the irritation produced wasn’t because of him. At that point, she strolled into the kitchen to snatch the bottle, find those glasses (two, because he was having a drink with her), and poured rum into them generously.
Revy offered him one. “What’s the scoop? Anything fucking happen yet besides him holding your organ hostage?” Was there even a beating heart in there? Would an X-Ray show that he was missing a vital organ? The fuck if she knew, but it had her concerned and a little curious.
“I can still feel pain,” Henry said flatly not at all perturbed by the snarl. “Just not anger at you for hitting me in the balls.” A threatened whack to the sack seemed to be Revy’s default response to a lot of things, as was an actual whack to the sack. A normal individual might take exception to being assaulted in such away, but not Henry. He had always known he was an odd duck, but now that he could reflect on it objectively, it seemed especially odd. Perhaps Revy could provide a bit of insight. But first to answer her question about his organs.
“Nothing has happened,” Henry reported in his monotone as he accepted the glass of rum. “Killian has not been back and I have not heard any updates from Regina. I assume if there was any news or reason to worry she would have contacted me. Or Kenzi. Probably Kenzi. I can be used as a pawn, so it would make better sense for me not to know anymore then I already do. I’m a liability.” He took a drink of rum.
“My heart isn’t actually missing,” he clarified after he’d swallowed the slightly burning liquid. It was too bad he couldn’t really get drunk. Revy was fun to get drunk with. Fun would have been nice. “The organ is still in my chest,” which was a good thing. Henry didn’t need anyone or anything else squeezing his actual beating heart ever again. Once was more than enough. “I think it’s more of a figure of speech saying my heart is gone. Heart is usually associated with feelings and emotions...the spirit of a person. That’s what’s missing. Or, better put, being held hostage.”
There, now that the terminology explained, Henry could return to the subject from earlier. “Why do you have a fascination with hitting me in the balls?”
Alright, that made a little more sense. In a way it shouldn’t but what the fuck ever, it was all because of the place they all willingly chose to live in - weird shit was bound to happen, and they were subject to the consequences of such weird shit. But this entire scenario was out of her league, obviously not her territory, and she didn’t enjoy feeling absolutely helpless when there was something clearly wrong with Henry. That something even worse could happen, and there wasn’t a monster or door or bitch with a mohawk she could help gun down for him.
Bristling but (mostly) calm, Revy took a tense sip of her drink. It was a waiting game, she guessed, while those who could deal with it were dealing with it - so she hoped they knew what the fuck they were doing. “It gets the point across,” she told him, leaning against the kitchen counter. “It’s a fucking smack, Henry, if I wanted to do serious damage I’d shoot your nuts off or kick them so hard they’d end up in your throat.”
“You could get a point across just as easily hitting me in the knee,” he pointed out. It wasn’t the actual physical act that struck him as odd so much as where on his body she chose to inflict said physical act. At one point Henry had even considered it a kind of physical term of endearment. Like the nickname Dickcheese. He would have been relieved to think that was all it was, because he was certain if Revy wanted to do damage to his junk, she was more than capable of doing so. He’d seen what she was capable and even now, he wanted her on his side. As a matter of fact the apartment seemed a lot less...tense - for a lack of a better word - than it had been after Kenzi had left. It had been as though Henry had been sitting around simply waiting for either Killian to pull his strings or kill him. With Revy here now that seemed far less likely, for reasons Henry was incapable of explaining.
Revy on the other hand was tense enough for the two of them and Henry thought he understood why. Revy was a fighter, through and through. She could take on physical problems with fist and gun and knife, cursing up a storm. And when it was all over, she’d have a grin on her face and a story to tell. What was happening to Henry now was not something she could fight. There was nothing for her to punch or shoot or stab. Henry hadn’t had any choice but to accept the three possible outcomes of his current situation: to remain Killian’s insurance policy for the foreseeable future, be killed, or be made whole again. It was easy enough for Henry to accept. It was logic, but he understood that it was near impossible for others to accept. Kenzi had made that perfectly clear in her stubborn determination to stay on his couch until this was over.
He was watching her without expression, his eyes dulled and passive. His drink was still in his hands, but he hadn’t taken another drink as he thought a few moments. Then he said finally, “You look like you’re going to explode. If you do, do not shoot me in the nuts. It would be really messy.”
Of course she looked like she could fucking explode. Or at least looked like she could make something explode. “Your magical heart’s missing and all you can talk about is your fucking sperm bank,” Revy chuckled, the gravelly sound with some mirth and a hint of disbelief. Maybe down the road they could look back on this and laugh.
Another thirsty sip of the rum, and she pushed past Henry to the couch she assumed the pirate’s sister occupied because she was damn sure those were hair extensions between the cushions. “But I’m around, as much as I need to be until something happens and someone returns that thing you’re missing. Then we’ll discuss how you can’t keep your sorry ass out of fucking trouble.”
“There isn’t anything I can do about my magical heart,” Henry said. “So I may as well talk about something I still do have and you seem to like to hit a lot.” Seemed reasonable enough, really. And there may have been an attempt at humor in that statement. A poor attempt considering there was little to no inflection in Henry’s voice, but an attempt nonetheless. This whole being without a heart thing was starting to get old.
Henry moved out of her way so she could make her way to his living room and make herself comfortable. It would appear as though, like Kenzi, Revy was preparing to be available for him for however long this took. If he could have, he would have smiled. Instead he took a sip from his glass.
He joined her in the living room and sat next to her on the couch, a little more secure in her presence. “I don’t mean to keep getting into trouble. I thought I was helping. I wanted to help.”
All the talk about balls was kind of funny, in its own fucked up way thanks to the entire fucking context of the situation. But being here selfishly made her feel better, in the scenario something that would fit the ‘fucking weird’ description would happen - she’d try and do something. Revy also wouldn’t overcrowd the place too much, though, the chick that’d been surfing on his couch probably had the same sentiment in keeping him safe (and would that crazed, currently possessed shithead really do anything serious with his sister around?).
In a perfect world, no.
“Of course you did,” she deadpanned, pulling the strips of magenta hair from the sofa to toss it to the side - and now she could settle into the couch without concern of her ass being on something weird. “Helping out is how you get into fucking trouble, Henry.”
It was meant to be more of stated fact than an accusation. Ideally it’d be best for him to stay the hell out of people’s business, maybe to care a bit fucking less but that’d be impossible to enact. Henry was one of the good ones. Their closeness balanced out that inner bloodlust, that impulsive urge to do something reckless. The people in her life would feel the consequences of her actions, and he’d already felt one of them.
“I know,” he said, “and I even knew better this time. I thought, foolishly, that the trick with the fake blood could stall him here long enough for Regina or...whatshishame? Neal? One of them to get here and do...whatever it is magic types do when a curse has consumed someone. I knew it was risky, but there was a chance and I took it. I know I shouldn’t have and it was a stupid decision. But Killian and I were finally getting past our initial impressions of each other. He had helped me and I had wanted to help him. Obviously it didn’t work and I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve learned a lot of lessons as a result of this. One good thing to come out of everything is that without my Magic Heart, I no longer have the desire to help, so I probably won’t be getting into as much trouble.”
That was an unexpected bonus, wasn’t it? Henry would have liked to think that it was, but logically he wasn’t too certain. He wasn’t who he used to be and he understood that bothered certain people, certain people who cared about him. It was all rather cruel and unfair. The entire situation, even without Henry’s unwitting and stumbling involvement, was cruel and unfair to everyone involved. Especially to Regina and Kenzi, who hadn’t had any choice in the matter whatsoever.
Henry glugged down his rum. He was thinking far too much.
Maybe it wasn’t a bitchslap to the testicles, but Revy, for some odd goddamn reason, had the ability to hone in on the location of one his nipples even with the shirt in the way, and twisted it. “Don’t you fucking act like it’s permanent,” she scowled, amber eyes flashing. If he couldn’t feel anything else but pain then fine, have some fucking pain - it’d at least remind him he was alive, and still a human being. “You’re always going to help people, that’s sort of your fucking thing, but if someone you know is acting suspicious then it’s okay to doubt them for your own sake of self-preservation.”
And like Rock, if he kept getting his ass in trouble then she’d do her very best to go after him, guns blazing, to make sure this particular son of a bitch came out with most of his limbs in tact and alive. It was what friends did for each other, even if he couldn’t feel the sentiment of it at the moment. “Next time, be careful.”
Finding the tender bits of the human body, even when hidden by clothing, must have been some kind of latent talent Revy had. The purple nurple had not been expected, especially since they had been talking about ball sacks earlier. And it hurt, as had been the point. Henry yelped in both surprise and pain before instinctively pulling out of her grasp. At least his reflexes were still very much in tact.
He stared at her, blinking a few times. She was right. Acts like that definitely got her point across. He could no more deny his nature than he could stop breathing. Still, he had learned his lesson, as difficult and costly as it had been. It would be some time yet before he so willingly offered help to someone. Or, so he thought, anyway. Still it was nice of Revy to remind him of who he was, who he still was when everything was said and done. In a few days perhaps he would be able to feel the sentiment of the moment and appreciate it for what it as. “You’re right. Maybe I can’t change, but I’ll be more weary from now on.”
The titty twister had also brought is rambling thoughts to an end, which was also a good thing. It got boring and tedious thinking of the same things again and again. “What else has been going on?” He asked “Anything worth talking about?”
Caution was good. Caution was smart. The world was vast, and nasty, and filled with sneaky fuckers and generally shit people - not that Captain Hook was one of those generally shit people overall, but this place could change you for the worst fast. Must have been a fucking mess for those close to him, to have something so radical that they couldn’t control ensnare him the way it did.
But all Revy could do was help keep an eye on her fondly nicknamed ‘dickcheese,’ and grumble about hoping for the best or whatever the fuck helped make people feel better in a time of crisis.
“Nope - just working on housewife porn,” she answered nonchalantly. “I’ll handle work stuff for you until all this is settled, alright?”
Henry nodded once. He would be back to work eventually. He would get his heart back. There would be an end to this and an end to the Dark One curse. Of course there would be. Revy had said so. Kenzi had said so. Henry believed them. They were his friends, after all, they wouldn’t lie to him. “Alright. Thank you, Revy.”