Who: Chase and Kiley Where: The Hawthorne Residence When: Mid-morning
Chase waited until Owen's message came through then sent one out to Lennon and Tobias. He didn't wait for a response, simply gathering a few tools he was comfortable enough to use as weapons and piling them into his toolbelt before leaving. Apparently he wasn't the only who'd had that idea, though he was a little surprised when it was Oliver who came knocking, looking for a claw hammer to give his wife. Or, fake wife, considering the scene he'd walked into in the kitchen that one day made it obvious who he was really with. Passing the hammer over had felt good, just knowing that he wasn't alone in his nervousness. Juno was probably freaking the hell out. He wondered if he should leave a message for her too, but after nodding through a short conversation with Oliver that he couldn't quite remember, he was heading home as fast as his feet would carry him. He was halfway there when he realized he probably should have said something to Erran, probably should have told Reginald that he wouldn't be making it at noon. Oh well.
The way he was feeling now was starting to scare him. He felt nervous that obviously something was going to happen once Simms was out. Betrayed that Owen would even go the fuck along with it no matter what the consequences were. Frustrated because he should have known that something like this was going to happen and he didn't have a single fucking trap or proper weapon to help. And then he was terrified. Not because of what Simms would do, but because of what his first thoughts had been when Owen had messaged him. Before he'd realized it he was mentally calculating a plan to kill the bastard the instant he was out in the streets. Not in a this is what I really want to do way, but an I'm going to do this, this plan will probably work way. When he'd asked Owen when Simms was being released, it had been to figure out how much time he had to prepare, how he was going to time it. It was almost like a second person was in his head, figuring out the most horrifying puzzle he'd ever thought of.
Figure out what time. Message Juno. Have her act as a distraction for anyone traveling with Simms, and because there was no way Simms himself would pass up a chance to do something with her right there. Sweep in from behind or the sides, depending on the positions of whoever is with him. Screwdriver to the neck. Twice. Drop screwdriver, back up, raise hands because Owen will probably arrest you on sight.
The last thing that occurred to him before he snapped out of it was that he should make sure Juno didn't already have a plan to do something similar, because in the setting they were in, and her being a minority, the punishment would probably be worse.
And then he'd gone into the bathroom and promptly thrown up.
Now he felt like his skin was crawling, freaked out at the situation and himself. He wanted to go home, the image of the room back at the mansion showing up in his brain first, because that was where Kiley lived too. Home. Well, fake home was just as good as long as she was there. He didn't want to talk, mostly because he still couldn't get his own head straight and anything that popped out of his mouth would likely freak her out as much as him. If not more, considering he at least knew he wouldn't hurt her, as much as he wanted to kill Simms. Maybe she wouldn't always know that for sure. It made him think of what Lila had said to her the day the map had burned. And fuck Lila! Maybe she-No. Lila was a bitch but she didn't deserve Simms.
He didn't know how many cigarettes he'd gone through by the time he made it to the front door of the house, but he extinguished the most recent before entering. They weren't doing much for him as his secure, white-knuckled grip on the top of the claw hammer in his belt. When he opened the door he kept his gaze down, until he could feel Kiley's presence on the couch, a quick glance told him he was right. Before his eyes could retreat, he focused on the bright rubber gloves over her hand, and the cigarette dangling between the fingers. It was so weird that it confused him for a second and he stared, only to shake his head to clear it. "Hey, I...uh......hey." He closed the door behind him and bent to pry his laces open. His fingers shook so bad that he couldn't get a good grip, and he sighed. "Fuck."