Who: Revy & Henry What: Catching up, and Revy's a slob so he founds boxers in her couch When: Not long after the sickness plot Where: Revy's place Rating/Warnings: Language but that's mostly it Status: Complete!
Fuckin’ finally. Revy felt a zillion times better, even if some color still hadn’t returned to her face - she’d been reintroduced to the concept of food and guzzling water, a fuckton of it, even to the point where she was (miraculously) staying away from the booze and cigarettes for the time being. It also meant her studio apartment was also cleaned to the best of her ability when it came to the blood splatters on solid surfaces, though the spots on the couch, courtesy of Leon Orcot?
Those were stubborn stains that never left.
It still didn’t mean there wasn’t clutter around. Mostly an array of clothes, since she clearly didn’t believe in a closet or drawers. Revy picked up a pair of jeans from her couch and tossed it to her bed, that way Henry could sit. “You wanna order pizza? I think I’m ready to eat actual food and not soup and crackers.”
Henry never wanted to go through anything like The Sickness (as he was calling it) ever again. He had been fortunate enough to avoid coming down with the fever, but it had been terrifying watching Chloe lay in bed, a never ending stream of blood coming from her eyes and a matching relentless puking to go with it. As far as Dream Events went, this one had been one of the worst. Henry almost would have rather fought Fog Monsters again.
Almost.
He as at Revy’s apartment checking in on her, making sure she was ok. Revy was the toughest and strongest badass Henry knew, but he had still been concerned when he learned she had contracted the damn disease as well. Well...dirty little secret, he’d been down right worried about her, but shh, don’t tell. Revy probably wouldn’t have appreciated it.
Getting her appetite back and suggesting pizza was a good start. Pizza was always good for what ailed you. “Yeah, sure,” he gave her a grin. “Pizza sounds good.” He dug his phone out of his pocket, “the usual?”
Blood and guts, those were things she could handle - she’d been in some pretty repulsive scenarios in the past, and she could stomach gore and bodily fluids fine but it never came in the form of a sickness that left her a pathetic lump of uselessness in bed. Leon hadn’t left her side, and a part of her wanted to backhand him in the dick because apparently it was a contagious thing going around. But he’d stayed, stubbornly, and managed to skimp by the plague.
Revy was relieved to know it hadn’t hit Henry either but, fuck, must’ve been hard to see his ladyfriend going through it. This whole bullshit blowed a lot of donkey dick and she was overall glad it was over. Fuck you hard in every orifice ever, Orange County.
“The usual,” she repeated, the sigh she let loose being one of content. Feeling human, around her cheddar penis - Revy felt relaxed in a way she mostly only felt when there was a cigarette caught between her lips. In the couch was where she flopped and, fuck you, fine, there was some articles of clothing sticking out between the cushions a bit, but they weren’t in the way and Henry always just dealt with it. “How’s Chloe? I’m glad it was one and not both of you that got hammered with that shit.”
Henry smiled. It was good to hear Revy’s sigh. It was kind of like a signal that all was right with the world. They had come through yet another Orange County Fiasco, the two of them in one piece. Though, this most recent event had been among the worst so far. Silent Hill’s fog rolling in still hung out in Henry’s Top Ten What The Fuck List, but that was for more personal reasons. This latest sickness bullshit was ranking a close second.
But all of that was behind them now. The two most important people in his life were on the mend, and Henry felt as though he could relax - just a little - for now and enjoy the peace for what it was. He was pretty good at that.
He ordered the two of them a pizza and then flopped down onto the couch beside Revy and stretched out his legs in front of him. “Chloe’s doing better,” he said as he laid his head against the back of the couch and just relaxing for what felt like the first time in days. He could feel his body practically melt into the old cushions under him. Not a bad feeling, really, except for something wadded up against the small of his back. Some article of clothing, no doubt. Henry was used to that kind of thing at Revy’s place.
He squirmed slightly to see if he could get it to move without having to move himself. “Both Derek and I were lucky we didn’t catch it too. I guess his werewolf blood made him immune. As for me?” Henry shrugged, “I haven’t got a clue. I stayed with Chloe pretty much through the whole ordeal, hospital stay and everything, so I guess I was pretty lucky in the end that I didn’t catch it as well. If I had it my way, neither one of us would have gotten sick” He frowned slightly remembering how his girlfriend had looked when he’d first arrived at her apartment. How bad she got. He didn’t want to see her like that again.
His head rolled to the side to look at Revy next to him, “I’m sorry you ended up with it, though,” he said. “If I had my way at all, no one would have gotten it. Period.” Because Henry wouldn’t have wished such a thing on his worst enemy, much less his best friend --- and what the hell was this wad of clothing that refused to move for him?! He reached behind him with a grunt and pulled out what he thought were going to be a pair of Revy’s shorts, or a shirt maybe. He did not expect a pair of boxer shorts - ones with Bugs Bunny featured prominently on them.
Revy would have lost her shit if she’d been admitted to a hospital. Mostly because she was an awful patient due to her being a mostly awful person, and she would have made it very difficult for the staff despite the toll of exhaustion this bleedyface dream disease. “I had no fucking clue it was even contagious,” she grumbled, but Leon seemed to have wanted to risk it like the dumbass he was. “It’s not like this shit was anyone’s fault, though I did have to wonder if we were all going to di--”
Pause. Blink. Stare.
A couple seconds passed.
“I’ll take these,” she then said and slowly pulled it from his fingers.
Henry stared, perplexed for a moment. The houghts of their current conversation were temporarily suspended. What were a pair of goofy looking boxer shorts doing in Revy’s couch? Henry had known a couple of girls in college who slept in men’s boxers, claiming they made for cheap and comfortable night clothing. From what Henry could remember, Revy didn’t sleep in boxers. So that could only mean…
Henry’s expression turned sly and he let Revy pull the boxers out of his hands. “Revy…” he said in a rare teasing tone reserved for only those he trusted most, “why are there Bugs Bunny shorts in your couch?”
Revy didn’t exactly look embarrassed. Mildly annoyed was the best descriptor for the expression she wore, because of course her own fucking slob tendencies would lead to this very moment - maybe next time she should keep a better look out of when her dumbshit boyfriend left behind his underthings for other people to come across.
“They’re Leon’s,” she deadpanned, which then ignited the urge to reach across her cluttered coffee table for a smooshed pack of cigarettes. As for the boxers? Slung over the armchair, not like she knew what fuck all to actually do with it. Getting cancer was more important now. “His ass took care of me while I was sick.”
A couple clicks of the lighter and there was that comforting flame, and it lit the end. Revy breathed in, deeply, before exhaling second-hand smoke. “He stays over sometimes.”
Henry raised a brow. “Leon?” He asked. “Like as in Detective Orcot?” That came as a surprise to Henry. Of all the people to be parking their shoes under Revy’s bed - or their shorts in her couch cushions as the case was - Henry hadn’t expected one of Orange County’s finest. So, yes there was a momentary look of surprise in his amber eyes.
Henry was glad that someone had been here for Revy during the blood plague of doom. Leon must have been a better guy than Henry had first thought, and considering Leon had covered for the two of them on a couple of occasions, Henry already had a pretty high opinion of him. Revy could certainly do worse than a cop. It was the cop part that was the surprise.
It was barely half a second before that sly look was back on Henry’s face, followed by a shit-eating grin. He didn’t say anything. He just looked at Revy with that grin and a little eyebrow wiggle of approval.
Oh for fuck’s sake. Her hand rose like she was about to bestow the biggest backhand against Henry’s testicles in the history of his very short life, but there was some obvious restraint - she lowered it seconds later and, instead, sought sanctuary in her slowly burning cigarette. “As in that particular fuckface, yeah,” Revy sighed, a bit of a growl to it. It was pointless to even be annoyed; it was what it was. “You could say it’s serious.”
Might as well just put it out there before there were any misconceptions about what the fuck they were. Being exclusive with a cop wasn’t on her life of ‘lifelong hopes and dreams,’ considering there was some kind of twisted irony in the entire thing - she’d dreamt of being brutalized in the worst ways by cops, and her experiences with them here were less than appropriate (they thought power allowed them to get handsy), but she wasn’t so deep down the hole in her own damage and irrationality to lump them all in one douchey category. Revy had actually known decent ones that were crooked in the view of most, so it’s not like she had some deep seething hatred towards them.
But Leon’s brigade of ‘abide by the motherfucin’ LAAAAW’ had annoyed her from the very beginning. Needless to say, after all that happened, he was a little more jaded now.
“Before you ask, no, we’re not doing a goddamn double-date.”
Henry feigned a slight frown. “Aw, Revy,” he teased lightly knowing fully well he was running the risk of getting that slap in the nutsack, “you’re no fun.” But, honestly, he was fine with no double dates. He liked Leon just fine, the two of them got along alright - maybe could even be considered friends if you squinted the right way, and overlooked the fact Leon had accidentally almost broken Henry’s nose the first time they met - but the whole concept of double dates was one that was just lost on him. Besides, he never would have pictured either Revy or Leon as people who would be into the whole “normal couple thing”, whatever that was.
Regardless, Henry was pleased to hear that he could say it was pretty serious. He wasn’t of the belief that you had to be in a relationship to be happy, but as long as Revy was satisfied, Henry was too. He smirked at her and then resumed making a comfortable spot for himself on her couch while they awaited their pizza. “The brightside is that I don’t have to threaten to run a background check on him.”
Alright, alright, Revy deserved that jab - she did (over)react protectively at the news of Henry’s romantic conquest but jesus fuck, after all he’d gone through? Kidnapped and force-fed premium dog-food wrapped in a tortilla and the assholes couldn’t even get this goddamn name right the entire time? Who knew, she could have been a goldmine of festering STDs ready to consume him.
But she’d met Chloe, the chick was alright, and the two seemed like peas on a pod when it came to the nature of their dreams. If he was happy, Revy didn’t have to pull out the literal guns.
“The worst is probably a speeding ticket,” she huffed a laugh akin to a cackle. Digging deeper, Leon had played a hand in covering some incidents up. The first time had been a favor, and the second had stemmed from unforeseen complications. “But anyway, anything new with the gloryhole in your apartment?”
The threat of a background check had been mostly a joke on Henry’s end. Revy was more than capable of taking care of herself and Henry knew that just as well as the next guy. He had played the damsel in distress for her a couple of times now. A couple times more than he would have liked, if he were to be honest - no one wants to be kidnapped - but seeing Revy and Midna in their glory had been something of a treat. Still, that meant that Revy didn’t need Henry threatening life and limb of any potential suitor, she was more than capable of doing so herself. But Henry was still in her corner and he had become quite proficient with a gun over the past several months, not to mention an ax. The best part of that? No one expected it of him.
Now that the boxers had been removed and Henry could stretch his legs out he did just that. A new less playful frown was on his face. “I had Regina come and take a look at it not long ago,” he reported regarding the hole. “You know how I was saying I was probably going to have to stay in that apartment for the rest of my life to keep an eye on it? The good news is that I don’t have to. The bad news is that if I were to move, the hole will follow me. Also,” he glanced at his camera bag he had taken to lugging around everywhere with him, regardless if he was on a job or not, “my apartment is being haunted by a doll.”
His apartment was being haunted by a fucking -
“I fucking knew it!” was Revy’s bark, which was somehow uttered around the cigarette that didn’t manage to fall and burn her lap. “The fuck did I tell you, dickcheese? It wasn’t just my brain still being stuck on Halloween.” After last time’s batshit rodeo there was no way in hell she’d dress up, ever. Pulling her cancerous vice out of her mouth, she flicked the ashes on the end table’s ashtray. “Did you burn the bitch? Tell me you burned the bitch.”
He better not be keeping it and having a fucking tea party with it. Otherwise she’d raise that ball-slapping hand and give him a good whack to the testicles, this time for a a damn good reason.
“I tried to burn it,” Henry said. “It didn’t work. I tried throwing it away. That didn’t work either. It just appeared back on my coffee table good as new.” Henry shrugged. “The doll itself doesn’t do anything. It’s just a doll. It just makes the other stuff happen, I guess? You know, rattling windows, low humming, spots on my walls. I discovered that if I take the doll with me it doesn’t haunt the apartment as much.”
What the fuck even. Revy was used to all sorts of creepy details from the nature of Henry’s dreams, but the existence of a possessed child’s toy made the entire thing exponentially creepier. Something about that had bugged her from the start, and it was good to know her instincts were on the mark - but the fact that it seemed indestructible?
“You know what they fuckin’ say. ‘Evil never dies,’” she irritably grumbled, but then rethought his words. “You didn’t bring that thing here, did you? If I start getting hauntings and my shit’s being moved around it’s your ass I’m coming after. I can’t shoot and kill something that’s already dead. What the hell are you supposed to do with it? Just accept the fact that it’s going to be a pain in the ass and carry on with life?”
Again, Henry’s eyes flickered towards his camera bag. He debated whether or not it was in his best interest to tell Revy that, yes, the doll was in fact stuffed into one of the side pockets intended for film. He was pretty sure that admission would get him smacked. “It hasn’t haunted any other place,” he prefaced carefully. “It’s been to the studio with me the past couple of days and nothings happened there. As long as I have it with me it’s...I don’t know...happy?” Henry frowned. That was stupid. The doll wasn’t alive, it didn’t have any feelings. Henry took a breath. “I mean, nothing creepy happens in the places I go when I have it with me, and my apartment is less nightmarey when I get home.”
But Revy had brought up a good point and one Henry hadn’t thought of. Was he going to carry the little doll with him wherever he went forever and just be ok with it?
“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said as he sat up a bit straighter. “There isn’t anything I can do about it. The Dreams affect everyone, Revy. Everyone gets something from them, right?” He made a vague gesture around her apartment, “you got an arsenal. I got a hole and a creepy doll.”
Happy. Really now. All Revy could imagine was him having the most macabre of fucking tea parties with that thing with the lights flickering and shit moving in the background by some unseen force. Rarely was she ever disturbed by much (considering she’d dreamt about twin sex slaves turned assassins that were barely thirteen, and she’d been willing to kill them both for the bounty on their heads), but most things that had come her way had the ability to be put the fuck down with a bullet or a grenade.
She highly doubted any shit would get done if she tossed a bundle of dynamite in that demonic gloryhole in his bathroom. It’d probably make it - whatever it was - angry. Except she wasn’t entirely alright with him being around things that were unsafe to him in general, and it didn’t seem like there was anything anyone could do about it.
Tiger eyes watched him carefully. A slow drag was taken, and then she exhaled away from Henry. “Is there anything you can do to defend yourself? In case something happens, or if that doll comes after you with a fucking knife.”
Henry watched the smoke billow from Revy’s lips and dissipate throughout the room. He’d gotten so used to her habit by now, but the way the smoke swirled and danced through the air and caught the light just right sometimes entranced him. What? It was the photographer in him. His amber eyes moved from the smoke back to Revy and he grinned faintly. “Of course I do. Thanks to an awesome teacher, I can handle a gun pretty damn well these days. And the Dreams have made sure I’m also pretty fucking good with an ax. But I really don’t think it will come after me. That’d be too cliche for my Dreams. Like all the other monsters I’ve faced look like they’ve come out of some Geiger painting.”
He shrugged. “Just in case, though, Regina taught me a couple of simple spells to protect myself. Most importantly she gave me a spell to keep people from squeezing my heart anymore. That’s something I’m actually more concerned about since it seems to be a trend around here.”
Physical combat and firearm training was the best she could pass down, and those skills wouldn’t be actually tested until something horrific came their fucking ways - but living here, there’d be chances for those ‘what the fuck’ moments to practice in. Henry had survived everything hurled his way so far, so she’d try not to let that pesky sense of concern simmer to an explosive boil. He wasn’t a damsel, and some things he’d have to handle on his own.
“Spells and guns seem like they’d be a handy things to have under your belt here, so if you’ve got a chance to keep those skills sharp, take ‘em.” Ashes fell from the end and finished with the cigarette, Revy smothered it in the glass tray. “Your girlfriend got a trick or two that she can teach you?”
For his part, Henry was determined to not be a damsel. Some of the things he’d gotten caught up in in the past few months had been entirely his fault, others had not. He didn’t like having to be rescued, and like he had told Regina, he wanted to be able to take care of himself, take a more pro-active role in his own life for a change. He had learned from his past mistakes, had learned to be more cautious, or at least be aware when he was doing something foolhardy and take the appropriate precautions before hand. He had learned to not jump in blindly and with both feet when someone looked as though they needed help. That had been a very hard lesson to learn and honestly went against Henry’s very nature and sometimes was just impossible for him. For example, he couldn’t help but to want to help Chloe figure out her powers. This had meant a lot of late night reading of a lot of weird stuff.
“I don’t think she can teach me,” Henry said thoughtfully. “Her Dreams, and as a result her powers, don’t really work that way. I haven’t ever seen her cast a spell or anything. She just kind of does it. If she is casting spells, I don’t think she’s aware of it.”
There was a shrug on her behalf, nothing dismissive but fuck, not like she knew much about the mojo stuff a certain group of people seem to inherit - most of it, she’d known from hearing Trevelyan babble on about it (he’d managed to teach her how to light a cigarette with her fingers at the very least), though Chloe at least seemed to have something that could help Henry in some way.
Revy locked her fingers together and let her hands rest over her stomach. Her frown looked angry but it was here ‘I’m thinking’ face. He’d know it. “You picked up a good one that goes well with your brand of weird at least. If something happens, she’d be immediately there. Have you two talked about shacking up?”
Henry knew Revy’s Thinking Face when he saw it, so he was quiet as she had herself a little think. He already suspected from their Get-To-Know-The-Girlfriend Lunch that Revy’s concerns about the person he was dating had been put to rest. He hadn’t gotten anymore threats of background checks from either her or Killian, at least.
Henry grinned, a doofy happy grin to hear Revy actually say that he’d picked well. He hadn’t really picked, he and Chloe had just clicked, but Revy was right. They certainly complimented each other. The grin faltered and turned into a kind of stare when Revy asked if he and Chloe planned on moving in together. “Uh, well...no,” he kind of shrugged. “We haven’t been dating that long and moving in now might be a little too quick? Plus there’s the whole issue with the hole, which apparently will follow me no matter where I go…” he gave Revy a sheepish look, “I don’t think we’re at a point where we can really tackle that issue. Not yet, anyway.”
Nah, that did sound sensible enough. Revy didn’t want him to rush things - time was good, but people went at different paces (it literally took a year for she and Leon to get to this point). But at least Chloe was in close proximity by being in the same building and if she was in the area when something happened, she’d be a quick first responder. Shit like that kept her up at night sometimes; even if she wasn’t the most vocal with her affections she’d be rotating the gears in her mind, making sure the dumbfucks she had gotten accustomed to were the closest thing they could be to safe.
“If she agrees to move in with your sorry ass and the third passenger you’ve got in your bathroom, I might even kiss her,” she sneered, wiggling up from the softness of the couch once the doorbell rang. Fuckin’ A, pizza was here. “I’m glad it’s going well and I didn’t have to wave my gun in her face.”
Henry grinned at her bemused. “I’m glad you didn’t either,” he said. “That would have been awkward and probably bad news for everyone involved.” He sat up, the alluring smell of pizza filling the apartment. Revy meant well and Henry loved her for it. He could always count on her to come through when the shit hit the fan and to kick back and have a few slices.