Saving Cayli

[Natalie Grey]

She was wrong about the second wound being the most painful. The third extracted a price worse than blood.

Her head had been in her hands, but it lifted to the sting of accusation. Jay's stare scoured like he beheld an enemy, but Natalie had used up all her fierceness kicking away her dad's chains. Her bag was right there, but she didn't stop him from taking it. Even though she felt the first cracks in her chest fissure as she watched him do it.

When the blades of the media slashed her family to pieces it was only they who pulled her away from the carnage. She never defended against aspersion, even when it was wrong. Especially when it was wrong. Though at least in sobriety she might have wielded pride. So diminished, she had nothing resembling protection. Her bleary gaze fixed helpless on his, she took the wounds quietly. Soul deep.

Turned out he let go quickly. She ought not be surprised. Her whole life taught her how all kinds of love had boundaries; that the moment they were crossed, no bonds were sacred. The betrayal etched on his face tore her up. She couldn't even tell him she hadn't read it, defence and explanation both thrown to the wind. Words would not fix this.

Natalie pushed herself up against the dresser, Azu's bible clutched in one hand, the papers he dropped by her feet crumpled in the other. She didn't want him to look too carefully at her; to see the telltale glaze and blush of pink in her eyes, dismal proof of how badly she was drowning. She shoved the folder against his chest, trying not to overbalance. Her hand retracted before she was certain he would accept the burden. 

"Take a look at the second file he sent," she said quietly. "And then tell me why I'm so drunk right now. I came to you first."

The wall guided her away. It was not an escape from his anger, and if it was through fear of what he might do next then it was only that she knew he would walk away. She didn't want to see Pavlo's face again if he should heed her advice. And she definitely didn't want Jay to see her falling. 

She doubted he'd follow. He saw the ugliness now, even in only a glimpse. He had every right to walk away from it. She knew where he'd go.

Calming exercises were little good when her eyes were too blurred to see. As the bathroom door closed she crumpled like the strings were cut, the shudder of emotion so violent she could actually feel herself trembling. The therapist in Aubagne accused her of bottling everything too tight. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried. A reserve of strength was always found from somewhere, stitching wounds in layers of toughened leather and steel. Even now the clamp of iron in jaw denied the weakness of it, head buried in her arms. But the tide fell silent anyway.

[Jay Carpenter]

The door slammed. Papers thrust in his hands. Jay stood there, silently studying the door like it was a portal he could never open again. A sick bubble pressed inside his gut. Breath shallow and fast. Like taking a deeper one might spring something coiled too tight and the entire machine fall apart. 

His chin sank with the utter powerlessness warping his world further from tentative fingertips. Natalie’s abandonment ruptured the silence that followed like the explosions bloomed mushroom clouds in his head. The paper was unfolded fearfully. He didn’t want to know what information it contained. Warnings surged the rising tide of once seen could never be unseen.

But it would be worse to never know at all.

He forced his eyes to read. Mind to absorb even as an anchor pinned his chest underwater. Drowning. 

The silence faded as words devoured. What took its place was far more grim. There was the face that haunted. Sunken, hollow cheeks. Dead eyes. Lips that tasted Natalie’s. Nose that pressed to her ear. Eyes that dared defenses. The words that surrounded Pavlo’s face spilled over like black blood running free. 

The paper cindered to ash in his palm. Then hot, searing white pain crushed his knuckles. “AHH!” His arm vibrated up to the shoulder. The crushed drywall a punched out hole. White flecks dusted to the carpet below. 

He shook out the hand that throbbed and barely kept from wrenching the door off its hinges when he left.

If the commotion with the FBI agents didn’t summon slumbering patrons, that did.

Cayli’s angelic face peeked out. “JAY” She called, but her brother was already passed. He ignored her cries. Ignored everything but the steel door to a stairwell.

Legs flew him down the steps. Out the emergency exit door. Plunged into air swirling with teasing winds and a slight drop in temperature. The shade of gigantic storm clouds stretched like the hand of angered gods ready to smite the mortals disowning them.

But no rain could quench the fire burst through his veins. Jay started to run. Run around the back of the building. Loading docks and parked semi trucks. Beyond the tanks and pipes of the pool system. Dumpsters that wafted their odors far from the gamblers inside. Workers hailed him, but he didn’t stop. The cool air dropped farther. Shade deepened. A thunder rolled in the distance. Or maybe it was the familiar blanket of fury that finally leaked free.

Unless Anna Marie changed drastically in the past few years, or Cayli sprung sprinters' legs, nobody was likely to find him sitting on a curb on the edge of a corn field, casino looming ugly without its flashy front facade.

He sank. Elbows perched on knees. Knuckles at his lips. If it was possible to open a hole to Moscow, he'd likely do it, step through, and hunt down Pavlo until the sonuvabitch was a smear on the pavement. Control gone. Powerless. Nobody had a clue. Each wielded a sliver of the story. But the conflict was going to rip him apart.

He dug a hand into his pocket, tapped out the commands, wrote the words, but hesitated before sending it.

Probably a bad idea to talk to him now. After the way it went the last time they saw each other. But desperation was a flavor of drink Nox appreciated.

 'Three guesses where I'm at.' He snapped a picture of himself, expression morbidly intolerable. Cornstalks decorated the background like a green wall.  '"If I die here, don't let them bury my ass in a cornfield. I won't be stuck here for all eternity."

A buzz flared his hip alive. While waiting on a response, if there was one, he retrieved the piece of tech from Natalie's dad. Somehow, it knew permissions were granted when her fingers turned it over to his. The words that appeared curled his fingers around the edge, flaring the heat of his knuckles all over again.
You will talk to me.

He swallowed. Half-a-world away, Natatlie's dad sent messages into the ether, unknowing that it was someone else that received them. He's right. You belong in jail.

A message from Nox dinged with welcome distraction. 

"10-4 on the burial, what about the rest of your body?  what the fuck you doing back home?  I thought the high and mighty had you.  (looking a bit worn - you need a break)."

He grinned, not remembering ever telling Nox about Iowa. But fuck, there was a lot about that night he didn't remember. Jay typed out a response anyway.
 "The usual. Giant conspiracy. Killers on the loose. Kidnapping. Murder. Revenge. But you think this is bad? I got my Stetson back, baby. Should see me rock the shit out of it. Send you pics later."

Something rattled loose in his chest. The humor did it, maybe. He liked Nox the moment he met the guy. Sick twisted bastard that he was. The familiarity was comforting. They were more alike than he cared to admit.

"I'd ask if you need help but the states aren't an easy place to get to from here.  can't wait to see pics.  do you need help?"

He quickly responded. If you don't hear from me in a few days, assume the only help I need is finding a burial plot. Catch up later."

In that moment of clarity, the thunder broke closer. Jay checked the sky briefly. This time of year things could turn to shit very fast. So far, seemed like he might get wet, but that was about all. 

He thrust the wallet into his back pocket and retrieved Natalie's dad's version. He held it up to his face with all the intensity of one willing to step out onto the hangman's platform and duel to the death. Loser swings.

He dialed it. Sync spinning. His breath held as the video connected. A dark smirk wrenched from his lips. "I hear I belong in jail." 


----------------------------
With Nox.

[Natalie Grey]

"Jay!"

He rushed past in a cloud of fury, ignorant to the ire of his little sister. Cayli grimaced, peeking back into the room to check mom remained oblivious. Dad was gone of course, disappeared the very moment he could, some excuse tripping off his lips. Cay rolled her eyes. Jay moved mountains to be here, and he spared her barely two words since they left the hospital. Ignored every message. She breathed out hard, baby blues bouncing to the door he nearly wrenched from its hinges. Natalie's room.

"Mom, I'll just be a sec, 'kay?"

She closed the door softly behind her, lips pursed, and crossed the hall. It was locked when she tried it. A soft knock brought no answer, but big brother hardly stormed out on himself now did he? Cay frowned, tried to let her mind slip back into the weird lull that had preceded her first touch of the gift that apparently made her sick enough to scare her folks half to death. Gentle, gentle, blah blah blah. She let her thoughts empty out, one tiny flower reaching out to the sun's warmth. Let her fingers wrap carefully around the handle, and waited.

Waited.

WaAaaiTed.

And the door clicked open.

Cay grinned down at her hand. Stepped lightly inside. And paused, blinking. Natalie's things lay strewn like carnage. Something like... ash? piled in little clouds on the floor. And there was a hole leaking drywall. A fist-shaped hole.

It stank like burning.

An uncomfortable feeling sunk into the pit of her stomach. This was not the Jay she knew. Was it? Mom and dad treated him differently these days, like something broke when he came home from the marines. Dad especially. Cay swallowed drily, shot a quick message to her brother.

What. The. FUCK? What did you do???

That ought to get his attention. She never swore. Least not in front of him.

Her feet trailed a careful path, but there didn't seem to be anyone else here. "Natalie?" She called the name soft, pausing by the shut door. Knocked softly, and went in.

Oh. Oh, this was not good.

Cay hovered in the doorway, uncertain.

Natalie was on the floor. Her face was blotched. Cheeks wet. Though her eyes were utterly dry now, the pink against the pale blue haunting. Alcohol wafted strong. Her head was pressed back against the wall, listless. Cayli couldn't even begin to fathom what might have happened. She glanced over her shoulder, like by some additional piece of magic an adult would appear at her side and relieve her of this strange obligation. 

"Are you... are you hurt?" The question wrenched like a betrayal. Jay wouldn't have done that. He couldn't have done that. But she couldn't imagine the words he could have said either. "Should I get someone?" Her brows furrowed. Natalie had sent her away earlier. She said she hadn't been okay then, whatever that meant, but now she looked utterly broken.

"Like who?" A grim smirk twisted. Natalie's eyes looked like they glazed then, but she closed them quickly.

"I can't just leave you on the restroom floor, Natalie."

[Natalie Grey]

Cayli

She helped Natalie up, guided her awkwardly to the bed. Pressed a bottle of water in her hand and watched her drink it. She looked about ready to pass out but still clawed doggedly to consciousness, like the offence of sleep threatened to drag her down into a deeper pit of hell than she already dwelt. Cay lingered, uncertain. Natalie sat upright, her legs tucked under her chin. Eyes unfocused. She didn't want to think Jay did this. Natalie had been upset before; it had to be something else. A something else Jay made worse, sure, but not something he had caused. She tried very hard not to look at that hole in the wall.

"You know you need to lay down to sleep." 

"Won't your parents worry where you are?"

"Dad is "busy" and mom is watching TV. I have this if they need me." She waved her wallet. Shifted her weight. Then her face furrowed and determination pinned a badge of responsibility on her chest. She plonked herself down on the mattress like Natalie had done for her only hours before. "When Zadie Johnson got drunk after her pa died she cried and cried. And she was sick a lot. We didn't just leave her. You won't tell Jay about that though, right? Or mom and dad. It was a while ago anyway. But they'd kill me if they knew where I got the liquor." Not that Jay noticed at the time. One more empty bottle amongst a mountain hidden in his room. Like no one was supposed to notice, but god he was a terrible liar. "You saved my life. I know we're not like, friends or anything. But I can do this for you." 

"I have bad dreams. I'd really rather--" She slurred heavily now, though her eyes still narrowed into something of a frown. Cay only shrugged and flopped out on the bed beside her. Plumped the pillow under her head and kicked her legs out, ankles crossed. The glow of the wallet lit her face as she began typing. Surprising friends with an epic return from the grave would have to wait. She sighed. 

"Even snoring you're better company than my other options right now." 

[Jay Carpenter]

The video connected, warped white noise a moment, then solidified. The face of a man who’d seen better days filled the screen. The collar of a prison uniform outlined the lower half and a plain white background filled the rest. Jay spoke first: “I received your gift.”

Alistair laughed. ”Your gift? Assuredly and emphatically not, Jay Carpenter. You're an annoying footnote with a few too many grim secrets, wouldn't you say? Unfit company with only one saving grace. For that and that alone I will hear what you have to say. But first you will tell me where she is and why you have this phone.”

The bite of his own name upon the ear made him want to wince. There was no mistake that he knew exactly to whom he spoke with barely a glance in the camera. Alistair flicked his gaze aside every few moments as though distracted by something unseen. Jay, meanwhile, ignored the thunder that rumbled overhead.

When he made the decision to call, he half-hoped nobody would answer. For certainly it was a terrifying man that could pull so many strings from behind bars. These weren’t any bars, either. This was the gulag into which was dumped the traitors to the Custody, locks thrown away, escape attempts impossible, inmates gunned down for minor infarctions.

Within this storm existed a Custody traitor with access to a Wallet.  

If ever someone existed that could protect Natalie from afar, it was Alistair Grey. The remainder of the insults weren’t exactly shocking. It was obvious what Alistair thought of him. Yet despite the man’s clearly tuned instinct for the American-defector to the CCD, he offered a thin olive branch. Alvis told him what happened in the tunnel. He knew about Pavlo. He knew about Jay’s involvement. It wouldn’t shock him to learn Alistair heard the drunken phone message as well. It’d be fitting, actually.

He took a breath. Despite what Natalie urged, she needed her dad. An enemy of the CCD could be the shield that buffered the threats of Amengual as he buddied up to the Ascendancy. She wouldn’t abandon Cayli to those threats. Jay needed her to solicit amnesty from the man on the screen. Thing was, she’d made it perfectly clear that she had zero interest in connecting with him again.

That meant there was only one way she’d accept her father’s help.

If she had no other choice.

Jay let the darkness out. It wasn’t hard. His normally deep voice lay lower, more gutteral. “I’ll do you the favor of telling you ahead of time what your gifts are likely about to report to you because that's what kind of guy I am. They didn't stick around, to put it nicely. A piece of advice: you should really reconsider what caliber of muscle you send next time. You know what I am. But I'll forgive the insult as ignorance. And since we're being honest with each other, I have this phone because I took it when I left your daughter unconscious on the floor.

“So who are you going to send next? FBI in your pocket? CIA next time? Pentagon? They might give me a little bit of a challenge at least. Surely not yourself, locked away. How do you even have a phone where you're at?”

A long silence followed. ”How do I have this phone? What a pertinent question. Let me ask another. Do you know what I did to get here? Pause to consider the lengths I will go to, should I feel you are a complication hat needs eradication. We both know you have quite enough in the way of enemies as it is.”

Jay shrugged. “That is a good point, Mr. Grey. Perhaps I should be a little more wary. So we're both traitors.”  He smiled with all the shallow warmth of brotherly connection. “I get it. You're worried about your daughter for good reason. I'll offer a trade if you're willing to hear it out.”

Alistair nodded in the affirmative.

“I’ll give you back your daughter no resistance from me. Your future gifts will likely appreciate walking away unharmed this time. In exchange, I want you to go to some of those lengths you bragged about. I want information. I want to know who in the Pentagon ordered we take Andres Amengual alive and where he was meant to go afterward.” He didn’t know for sure that Alistair would recognize the name. It was a gamble, and the laughter that followed was more genuine. His heart pound.

”You assume she's yours to barter, but we both know she is not. I don't want her in Moscow. It was a mistake to ever ask her to come.” He paused. ”Information is my currency. You're sure that's all you want?”

Jay could hardly breathe. The thunder rumbled louder. At least the storm shadowed his face with appropriate atmospheric melodrama. “She's mine if I don't let her leave. I belong in jail, right? Must be a hardened criminal.” He stared unblinking. "I'll let you know if I think of something else. 8 hours. Send it to this device. I'll be hanging onto it.”

”If you think you could stop her. It might be amusing to have you try. She's a Grey, and she is my daughter. Those things stack considerable odds against you.” He paused thoughtfully. “In my experience, and we agree I have considerable experience, hardened criminals rarely go to the lengths you did to pull her from those tunnels. A blip of conscience, clearly.” His sarcasm was not lost on Jay. Damn, he kind of liked this guy.

He went on. “So let us level. The threats are tiresome. You can be useful, or you can be an irritant I sweep aside. Show me you are worth my time, and you will have your information. Keep chewing on my ear, and I will make the decision for you.”

He wasn’t getting it. Keeping Natalie at his side had nothing to do with physical bonds. Jay tilted his face, letting the camera accentuate all the best angles. Let Alistair think him shallow. Let him think Natalie leaned into infatuation like she leaned into alcohol. At this point, he didn’t care. If the man would just agree! “You think I meant physically - well I could probably do that, but you're right. Won't work. She's too damned stubborn. But you don't want her in Moscow. You realize that's where I am. Actually, I'll be in Africa first. You're probably thrilled with the idea that she follow me there?” He shrugged despite the fact that it made him sick to think of Natalie lost in the melee to come. She was too attached to pursue reckless abandonment while the war carried on. It was almost impossible for her to sit it out. ”You clearly have something in mind for this trade. What do you want?”

”She has nothing left in Africa. She's to remain outside the Custody, that's all. I can sort the rest.”

Jay fell silent. IF she somehow didn’t go to Africa, he knew where she’d go next. It wasn’t staying behind in Iowa, that was for sure.

“You know she won't stay out of the Custody unless she think she's been betrayed.”

”That's between you and your conscience.”

He swallowed, eyes drawn upward. Lightning flickered. He knew exactly how to do it. Knew exactly who to betray her with. Anything short would fall flat as empty promises. She had to really believe it.

Jay spoke through clenched teeth, decision made. “Get me what I asked for.”

The second the video ended, he wanted to throw the damn device into the green sea behind. Instead, he just stood there as the first raindrops pelted his face.



----------------

With Natalie.

[Jay Carpenter]

He didn’t mind the storm breaking. He’d barely recalled the last time he showered. Probably needed a good bit of a soaking down. Part of the reason for the Stetson, since his hair looked like a right shitty, mussed up hay bale. And the fact that it was fucking awesome. Promise not to tell anyone, but his favorite part of his dress blues was the cap. And maybe the saber. Definitely the saber. Okay a tie. For fuck’s sake, though, who else this day and age got to strap on a fucking saber? It was glorious. The weapon was ceremonial, but Jay appreciated the blade for so much more than symbolism.

His legs were lead by the time he made it back to the hotel. Of course, he left the keycard and had no way to breech the emergency exit short of melting down the steel door. As that seemed like a nice invitation for stealthy entrance of murderous drug lord thugs, he avoided the need and stalked around the wide building back to the main entrance.

The doorman was less enthusiastic about his entrance this time. No waves for Mr. Carpenter.

He stomped out his boots best he could, but the rain pelted him alive. His shirt stuck to his chest invisible. The blast of air conditioning rippling goosebumps down his arms. At least the Stetson would have drawn the water off his eyes. Instead, he had to deal with a few attempts to swipe it aside just to see.  

He left a puddle as he stalked to the front desk and asked for a replacement key. ”Tell housekeeping I’m sorry in advance.” He tried to diffuse the receptionist’s concern with a smile, but his heart wasn’t in it.

He slipped the key into a pocket alongside Alistair’s tech when a voice gripped him by the spine.
“Jay?”

He slowly turned, praying that his head finally broke and he’d gone insane. Instead, there stood Anna Marie in her skirt and high heels and silky brown hair and glossy lips.

He swallowed. Hers had been the first face to jump to mind when he hung up with Alistair. The idea turned his stomach. Not that Anna Marie did that. She’d always find a place in his head and heart. But, he rubbed his eyes.

Of course, that was interpreted as some kind of silent invitation to her. Gentle hands led him to the elevator. He didn’t resist.

In the time it took to get inside, he’d read Cayli’s message. Could feel the urgency in it. The accusation. He’d done something alright, though the kid could never know what. She had to have encountered Natalie then. Question was, did Natalie find her or the other way around? Nat could barely walk last he saw her. … Last I left her…

He swallowed and sank against the elevator walls. The trip vertical was somehow simultaneously painfully slow and all too swift. Hands pressed to his chest. Squeezed his neck. Fingers nudged their ways twisted with his.

He’d never eaten. Barely slept in 36 hours. The rain may have counted for a shower, but he still felt dirty.  

The numbness in which he walked to his room was not inspired by alcohol. Though that would have been far more preferable. His eyes trailed upon Natalie’s door just then, silently wishing it to be flung open and someone, anyone, force confrontation upon him. If only to interrupt what he didn’t want to do. Yet, his head told him was the right thing.

He was going to burn in hell.

He didn’t stop Anna Marie when she trailed him through the dark portal to his room. Rain pelted the window. At least thunder and water masked her murmuring when she peeled the shirt from his skin.

His heart was soon pounding even as his head fought with his body. Everything he wanted was twenty feet away, but it was so easy to sink into familiar arms. Nox would probably shake his head in disappointment if he knew. Light knew Jay was disappointed for the both of them.

He should not have kissed Natalie at the ball. It was a mistake, or so he told himself. Anna Marie’s skirt was hiked to her thighs when she pulled him close. The bitter scent of cigarette smoke wafted from the hair Jay gripped in his fist. He’d not hurt her, but he clung like he was afraid of letting go.

Her fingers blazed heat up and down his stomach, but unlike the brush of Natalie’s, this twisted his insides into knots. Guilt welled just to consider the comparison. Anna Marie deserved better than Jay. Her’s were the first hands to ever hold him so affectionately. High school sweethearts, right? They weren’t the last, but there was a special place in the soul for your first? Right? The press of her lips were familiar, the nibble on his ears resurrecting ancient nostalgia that made him briefly yearn for simpler days. Saturday nights in the truck on gravel roadsides. Music lulling them into a trance that two people could not break even if they wanted to.

He could just lie and tell Natalie that he wanted Anna Marie instead. She already baited him with the accusation earlier, the one that sent her seeking oblivion instead. I want you so fiercely it frightens me.

Jay’s fists balled up on the sheets just to keep him from leaving.

Fresh air washed his back cold when the undressing continued, but warmer skin beckoned to sink nearer. Was it really so bad? Yeah, he was using Annie, but he loved her also. He’d always love her. She wanted it too. Probably not like this, not when it was a lie. But the eagerness of her grip and the heat to her quickly-drawn breath said otherwise; she led him onward, but Jay didn’t stop it either. Her lashes fluttered as they both gasped.

He’d never be able to lie to Natalie. Fabricate that this happened when it didn’t. The only way to tell her it was over between them before it ever started was to do something that proved it. Then let the proof speak the lie he couldn’t.

God he was a coward.

He was panting when he fell to stillness. Their breath warm upon one another’s faces. Anna Marie was looking at him so expectantly. It almost broke him to say it. 
“I can’t.” He whispered, and shoved away from her. She was beautiful, glistening with his rainwater and the glow of her own flushed skin. The lightning flashed them both with ghostly pallor the color of the bedsheets in the next heartbeat, and the spell shattered like glass. He had to get out of arm's reach before the last drop of will-power evaporated forever. 

He shook his head, body fighting his damned head's logic, as he pulled on his shorts far from tempting reach.

It wasn’t long before the yelling started.  In moments, curses erupted. For screwing with her again. For being a coward. Prick. Liar. Things all true. If Anna Marie even knew half the story.

Jay leaned around the edge of the frame, watching as she fled barefoot toward the elvators. When he had enough of his senses together to realize someone else was there, he jumped. Across the hall, hovering on Natalie’s threshold, his baby sister was utterly horrified.  He held the blue eyes that were so like his own for a second. Shame crossed her angelic expression that practically stabbed his soul. 

He didn’t even try to defend himself.

When the door was closed once again, he grabbed the Stetson, flung it over his face and laid atop the disheveled blankets, willing away the pressure and ache wrenching his body inside and out. He finally channeled that bottle to himself he’d wanted all day long and sipped at it.

If he was going to hell, might as well take some company along. He snapped a picture quickly. Shadowed in the low-light, angles of shorts and the rim of a black hat covering everything from the chin up, he sent it on to probably the only person in the world that knew what living with damnation deserved was like.

When the rush of adrenaline and pulse of blood pushing painfully through his body receded, a restless sleep took its place.

[Natalie Grey]

It wasn't the first time she'd beheld this lonely vista. 

Every itch of instinct urged her to run like she had in the past. Lacking sufficient ties she knew she would have. Blind, and in whatever direction evoked the pretence of feeling just that little bit alive until the lie felt real. But there was no home to return to, and no hand beckoning escape, just the snap of Custody responsibilities awaiting Moscow's hungry jaws. Promises to Brandon were the most fragile of bonds, but for the consequences he promised to deliver to her family upon failure. She would go back, but not with any relish. 

Escape barred to her, her promise to Cayli was the only beacon here; the focus that formed the anchor preventing her from drifting away to harder distractions. The temptation of permanent stupor still held an allure; she was honest about her vices at least, for it was only self control holding that barrier. Vulnerability plunged to depths even she hadn't calculated as possible, but it would not happen again. 

Rain had fallen heavy. Natalie felt as empty as that purged sky. Grey cloud crept cold across a flat horizon outside the window she stared. Behind her the room was neat as was possible given its injuries, her strewn things tidied and repacked with empty intention. She did that without complaint despite the bore behind her eyes. Truth was, she'd had worse hangovers, and the idle order of distraction kept her mind quiet. At least until her fingers curled against that remaining file.

She crept around thoughts of Jay like they were a sleeping beast. The memories hazed but she did not try to unpick them. Instead she considered the way he looked at Nox in the alley. The closeness with which he pressed against Anna Marie. A stolen kiss in another world was a flimsy comparison for betrayal, though knowing it didn't loosen the band around her chest. It wasn't a matter of trust, and she was not given to undue jealousy. It was the burn of something unrequited. A lost figure in an empty ocean. 

Even the faint touch of that realisation plunged her dark. She retreated into herself; all the air stolen from her lungs if she indulged the grip. So it was packed away, all of it, into the deepest recesses. Along with her father. Jay hadn't returned his wallet, and it was not among her things; that did not escape the scrutiny of her attention. A conclusion she was unwilling to confront, and yet she was strangely grateful to be released from the burden of its possession.

Which only left one more consideration. 

She showered first, forcing herself through the motions of self care. Prends soin de toi. The most ancient of remedies, shrugged into like the comfort of an old blanket. She hadn't rested well, but her desperate body had eaten up the respite greedily; she felt like she'd slept in concrete. But the heat suffused aching limbs, a massage at temples easing the dull throbbing within. Her stomach churned but only if she made the mistake of haste. She'd live.

At the dresser she erased the signs of fatigue from her face. Swept back light gold hair. Ghosts stared back gravely from the pale prison of her eyes, unlikely to find another release soon. She felt worn out, but it was the scoured kind, and it was not like she hadn't rebuilt her life through the devastation of more literal flame. Given the choice between self-pity and rebirth, she clawed herself from the charred ashes each time.

Masks and armour, old friends both. Her lips tipped a grim smirk at her reflection.

The papers lined out under her fingers. Amengual required more thought than the aching insides of her skull would allow right now, but time was a luxury that would not last. Natalie afforded Jay the same courtesy he afforded her. Emotionless about it. It wasn't the depths of a soul she plunged, but the cold facts necessary for understanding the larger picture. Ignorant as he was to the trespass, it would be a less painful experience than it had been for her. And given fleeting glimpses of last night, she imagined he thought she already knew anyway. She might as well live up to the aspersion.

Discharge papers marked the tip of all her father apparently found it necessary for her to know. Newspaper clippings crowded behind. A raid that destroyed dozens of factories in Nicaragua and left a drug lord dead. The workings of rival cartels, so the official line went. Autopsy photos that heaved her stomach, and were probably meant to. Those whisped to flame for fear Jay would ever set eyes on the reminder. Family histories, economic reports, more photos of individuals marked with identities, including Zacarias. The last was a scrap of paper torn in haste. A name that looked to have been scrawled by hand. A number written beneath, and the letters ICOFBG.

Her eyes nearly rolled at her father's sick humour.

But the magnitude of what she absorbed swallowed her whole.

A rational mind understood, then, the reasons Jay burdened this alone, but it did not prevent the twist of anger in her gut that he had found no reason to trust her to share it. Frowning, she packed the papers away -- the torn scrap to her pocket, the rest zipped in her bag -- knowing they were not intended to be kept. If Pavlo's files were offered to find understanding in the trauma, these ones screamed a violent warning against further association.

It was not meant for her to act on.

The door knocked and opened quietly with a borrowed keycard as she returned to sit on the end of the bed, pensive. Cayli slipped in, absent her usual effervescence. The hoodie swamping her figure looked like it might once have been Jay's; her hands plunged deep into its pockets, its hem almost to her knees. Emotion bubbled in dismal bursts, like she could not quite find a balance between upset and anger. Something was very wrong.

"Hey, Cayli." The greeting offered quiet, she watched this sudden change with a faint frown. Until a dismal thought occurred. Natalie's own wallet had been on the bed when painful consciousness drained in, Azu's bible clutched in hand, the pages all splayed where it had ended up thrust beneath her pillow. Words had flashed when she brushed the screen, not a message, but painted with a finger into an app Natalie wasn't sure had been on there before.

Mom pulled the parental card. I'll be back!

Looking at her expression now, suspicion simmered. Cayli was clearly used to digging out answers denied her by adults, and she'd had a wealth of information at her fingertips while Natalie slept. If she'd chosen to look.

Though it was too late now to worry over.

Natalie contemplated the stillness around her. Cayli brushed through hell the past few days, her life upturned by the tornado of her brother's homecoming. And he hadn't spared two moments for her since they arrived at the casino. That was a familiar sting, the stirrings of empathy tugging deep in her chest. Her father's denial pulsed with her heartbeat. Had Jay ever come to find her yesterday? Wrapped in his own demons, did he even perceive the careless injury? The girl's shoulders slumped, back pressed against the wall. Crescent shadows hung under her usually bright eyes. Her gaze strayed to the fist-shaped hole in the drywall. "You're not going to tell me what happened." 

"I'm not. But not because I don't trust you or I don't think you'd understand." The words were firm, petitioning the favour of understanding. This was not a secret kept simply because Cay was a child, it was a buried hurt Natalie could not talk about. At least not without stripping free some of the strength she fought so hard to surround herself with. She tilted her head, almost conciliatory; gave a self-deprecating laugh, darkness curling at its edges. "And at least in part because I don't remember all that much."

Sometimes Cayli looked at her like she was the strangest thing, prompting the flicker of a dull smile to Natalie's lips. Morbid humour rattled something loose. She would not look back. The shower erased the fugue. Her stomach was cramped and empty but she had no reasonable appetite. A gallon of coffee would not go amiss, but mostly she wanted to get out of the prison of this miserable room. She stood. Nausea rolled a protest.

"You said you're unable to go hardly anywhere in here. So where can you go?"

"I shouldn't-"

"It's not like your parents don't already dislike me. We'll tell them I stole you away to spill Ascendancy's poison in your ear. They can rail at me later." She crossed the room and pulled the handle. Her expression softened as she gestured a hand to the corridor beyond. "I know we're not friends or anything, Cay. But I can do this for you."

The first chink of light sprung Cayli's expression, a wry little half smile loosening the purse of her mouth. She was the first one out the door.

---

Breakfast first. They sat at a metal table outside the coffee kiosk. Natalie's hands cradled a mug roiling steam, a tall glass of water alongside. The adjacent club was silent, though sounds still spilled from the casino. Some way off, a man in a uniform pushed a damp mop over the floors. Aside from the girl cleaning equipment in the kiosk, there were precious few others about.

Opposite, Cayli attacked a giant stack of pancakes glazed thick with amber. The sugar sweetness turned Natalie's stomach, despite the empty pit of her stomach. Or maybe because of it. She sipped her coffee, not even particularly enamoured of the usually pleasant aroma. Glad it was so quiet. Her head pounded.

Whatever her troubles, Cayli seemed content for now with simple comforts. Her eyes danced at Natalie's scrutiny. "Hospital food," she said, then wrinkled her nose. "I can't believe you drink that stuff. Black."

"And I can't believe you smothered on so much syrup." She leaned in, one finger scooping a globule leaking from the edge of the plate, and swiped it with a smirk against Cayli's nose.

She laughed, scrubbing it off with a serviette. "You're so dumb."

"You got into my room without a key yesterday."

Cay paused at that, a fork-full halfway to her mouth. And grinned.

[Jay Carpenter]

There was no room for dreams in that desperate sleep. He crawled from mounded blankets with awareness of someone more clear-headed than he felt in days to check the time. Alistair’s deadline loomed, but the man’s slick wallet remained quiet in the pocket of his discarded jeans. He sat there on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, considering the pile of denim. When he rubbed his shoulders, knots protested the pressing. Jay opted for a shower instead.

The steam and soap did nothing to scrub away how dirty he felt. He’d never done anything like that before. Certainly not with someone he legitimately cared about – or did once upon a time. Probably always would. Cayli’s abject horror would haunt him, but then again, maybe it was time she discovered that her gallant older brother was no hero after all. Barely a good person. If that. The sole flicker of hope that remained was Natalie’s ignorance. He knew what it would do to her if she found out. Knew what it would do to them. Was Alistair’s price too high to pay? There had to be another way. Just hadn’t bloody thought of it yet!

He finally checked his own wallet, nervous of the backlog of messages waiting within. A frown touched his brow when it was mostly empty. No angry notes from Cayli. No check-in from mom or dad. Nothing. Except a response from Nox from yesterday's conversation. He opened it. Curiosity of what was there shoved some of the tightness from his chest. And he laughed. Enough that it rattled something free as he dropped the device aside and aimed for his bag.

A soldier’s life didn’t afford much luxury for packing extras. The one pair of jeans that Jay brought were the pair he wore in the rain. Given that it was a bad idea to walk around the entire casino in nothing but his shorts, it was something of a dilemma. He took the pants to the tub and seized the power. A rather satisfied nodding followed the drips of water wrung out. “Well there’s a perk. Adios, laundry.” 

The rest of his clothes were neatly worked through with the power. Shower, fresh clothes, hotel-room coffee-pot: damn. Much more pampering and he’d start to forget that his life was a complete wreck. Still no word from Alistair, so Jay stuffed the device into his pocket. The Stetson stayed.

Having been here an entire day and no sign of people wanting to kill him, his guts might actually untangle enough to shove down a few plates of food. Rounding the lobby, Jay stopped dead in his tracks upon the threshold of an enormous room. His gaze was drawn immediately to the back. A big grin escaped as Jay pushed through the bustling tables. 

A buffet.

”Oh, thank God.” He might cry.

A plate was snatched from one of those bouncy-tower dispenser things and dumped with appropriately bountiful mounds of eggs, steak-strips, pancakes, waffles, smeared with that red jelly stuff. Sausage. Greasy hash-browns. He was already chewing on a pork-link before even making it to a table. Overflow from the plate’s edges dripped like breadcrumbs through the woods as he fought his way to an empty table. The first pancake was rolled up like a taco stuffed with strips of sirloin and sausage. He had it half-way stuffed in his mouth when laughing yanked his gaze from the delirium. 

“Hungry?”

A waitress was grinning, carafe of coffee in hand.

Jay emphatically shook his head. When he begged for that steaming elixir she was hoarding back, gripping the empty cup like a man dying of thirst in the desert, she happily complied.

[Natalie Grey]

Her face lit up brilliant. Cayli nudged the plate forward a little, enough to brace expectant arms on the table. Such a different response to the noose of Natalie's own so many years ago. The fear and confusion were distant memories now, but looking back on the path to both control and understanding, nothing had been easy. Turmoil marked the crossroads of her life back then anyway, but an unexplained sense of other only isolated her further.

She was glad to spare Cayli the same turbulence.

Natalie's hands wrapped about the coffee; she gave a half smile around a sip, letting some of that warm enthusiasm slip under her skin, though she doubted the girl would be particularly enamoured of what she had to say next. "First we make a deal, though, Cay. If you have questions you need answering in future, you ask me. And if I say no, I promise it's only for an important reason. No bullshit."

Cayli had the grace to flush, the surprise widening her eyes with what might have been guilt but might also have just been the blunt way Natalie spoke. She coughed a little, murmuring, "You sound funny when you swear." But the deflection was unnecessary protection; Natalie wasn't going to ask what she knew. She didn't covet a confession, and nor was it a scold as such. She'd never seen the point in treating children inferior, and kids like Cayli only railed against the cage of that ignorance. Usually to ill effect. No one stayed innocent forever.

After a moment, perhaps realising a response was awaited, Cayli simply nodded, unable to find her voice. Then her lips pinched abruptly, like the emotion sneaked up fast and struck her from behind. She frowned down at the congealing remains of her breakfast. Almost whispered like even the words were traitorous. "He's not the person I knew."

Cayli's brother was the last thing Natalie wanted to talk about; the last thing she wanted to think about. Though she availed herself of a new context, she truthfully had little idea of the thoughts ringing like stray bullets in Jay's head. The murkiness of her memories were not waters she wished to disturb for answers, either. "If he's a different person, he's still your big brother. One who was terrified of losing you."

"But he's just so--! You, and me, and oh god, Anna Marie. Her face, Natalie, and he just stood there in his shorts watching like it wasn't wrong at all. It's not him, Natalie. Not the him I knew. And I hate it."

Dread crept little ripples of cold, clawing her gut. She didn't want to hear. The pounding in her chest felt like a fracture, but she swallowed it down. Nothing unexpected echoed in that sound chamber; nothing she had not already confronted and set aside, no matter how painful. Except assumption and knowing were different creatures.

She needed to get out of this godforsaken casino.

Only Cay's expression was an open wound, and sometimes it was necessary to let go of your own injuries to tend someone else's. She loosened her grip on the coffee cup and set it down. Faint bruises lined her palms where she must have squeezed them too tight, the quiet hum of that memory like beating wings.

She hadn't wanted him to see her cry.

"He's carrying a mountain and wonders why he buckles under the strain of it. Not that he'll tell you that, Cay. I don't know what's going on with him, but sometimes it's easier to be hated. I don't think it was easy for him to come home after everything that's happened."

She scowled. "Is this what ambassadors do? You do remember where I found you!"

Natalie breathed into that accusation, but little actually stirred. The inward flinch of hurt could not be helped, but if she were to truly lay blame, it was with the drunken confessions she knew she had to have made. She wasn't a woman given to emotional display. She did not easily bare her heart, let alone leave it open to injury. Doing so had been foolish; little surprise there were unpleasant consequences.

As Natalie's silence lingered, Cayli slammed the heels of her hands into her eyes. The frustration simmered and spilled miserably, the heart worn on her sleeve bruised and betrayed and aching. "He didn't even answer a single message!" She bristled. "Well, two can play at that." A slam sent the tech face over. Her arms folded. Face sullen.

"Cay, none of this will work if you're angry."

"I can't help it!" Her gaze tipped upwards. Spots of pink pinched her cheeks. Natalie said nothing, just watched that storm rage and breech and die. The dregs of her drink were cold, but she didn't signal for another. Eventually Cay's chest eased out; a long and terrible sigh. Her gaze lowered, and Natalie captured it carefully.

"It's like an embrace. Not something you can force," she said. Paused until she felt the shadow of Cayli's attention return and finally soften into curiosity despite herself. "I play piano. It's what worked for me. Small notes building into chords. It wraps itself around you until you fall into it."

She listened; Natalie could see her falling rapt as she considered that. Maybe she even tried to flex that internal muscle, curious, but nothing happened to Natalie's senses. After a moment a small smile broached the battlements of Cayli's expression. A little of that familiar light danced. "Piano? Sometimes you start to sound normal, Natalie. And then. Just." 

Natalie smirked.

They practised a while in those quiet early hours, with varying degrees of success. More coffee (more water) and the meagre attempt at a breakfast that didn't clench her stomach into rebellion. Eventually the world around them roused, and Natalie wasn't the only one watching tentatively for the hint of a black stetson. Cay bounded to her feet with fresh laid plans for the morning, some of her usual mood restored despite the lingering darkness. Natalie stood too, though paused when she caught upon a somewhat familiar face. "I'll catch you up."

Cay rolled her eyes but didn't argue.

The agent's face offered a memory, though one remembered clearer from their brush at the hospital than his intrusion in her room. It seemed he was alone, though Natalie didn't pause to sweep for the companion she only somewhat remembered curled up like a broken toy against the wall. There was a flush against his cheek that hadn't quite bloomed into bruising, half hidden by the cap shading his brow. His eyes were hard as granite stones as she approached.

"No attack dog today, Miss Grey?"

Her lips pursed, but no apology issued forth. Knowing their benefactor somewhat soured her opinion no matter how unfortunate the manner of greeting they had received yesterday. It wasn't like the frostiness was anything less than mutual. She doubted he saw little beyond a spoiled Custody princess, not least after her shambolic performance last night.

"Your presence isn't required any longer."

He shrugged. "You're relative Custody royalty, so we've been given to believe. If something were to happen to you here it'd be a diplomatic disaster. Plenty of people gunning for the excuse of war. Best not give them an easy one."

He called her Grey, but something niggled at that. It hovered just out of reach, like a puzzle piece that did not fit, or erroneously belonged to an entirely different picture. Her head buzzed dully at the frustration, let go with a sigh. Later. She'd have to think about it later.

He tipped his cap lower. Shrugged her off. "We'd appreciate the head's up this time if you'll be moving on. Place is quiet. Hopefully you won't be seeing us."

---

She sat on one of the loungers, cross-legged, the hem of her dress fluttering against her knees. Her wallet splayed beside her, one bud nestled in her ear, the other trailing on her lap exuding faint traces of soothing symphony. Nuvole Bianche wrapped thorns in her chest, beautiful as it was cruel. She idled over the paperback while Cayli swam. The kid had delighted over the spar -- her choice, not that Natalie minded. She supposed farm work didn't leave much chance for self-indulgence. Nor dying in a hospital bed. The bright pink glittery paint on her nails made Cayli happy anyway, as did lolling around in the water with no chores in sight.

Grey skies crowded out the sun, like the storm wasn't quite done doling out it's frustrations, though no rain fell. There were few people about outside given the weather's shifting threat. A canopy above preserved the temperature anyway, not that it was particularly cold. The relative quiet was welcome, as was the first time in a while Natalie actually felt herself unloosen. As moments went, it was almost beautiful. Even with Cayli's grinning, splashed attempts for attention.

'...Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin...'

"Cayli Carpenter!"

Cay flinched, her head bobbing up from the depths. Water streamed down her blanched face, eyes darting to Natalie regretfully. She hadn't been joking about ignoring her wallet; it was turned completely off, nestled atop a towel on the lounger next to Natalie. She heaved herself out, hair plastered to her head. Ran her arm over her face, blinking, as her mother bustled close.

"You're barely out of the hospital, Cay, and just look at those clouds! Your brother might act like we don't exist anymore, but you young lady are fourteen years old!"

"Mom, I was just--!"

Protest silenced with a look, her mum tucked her daughter's wallet under her arm and rippled out the towel. The lines on her face drew deep. The sharpness of her gaze swiped at Natalie's empty expression in passing. "I think it's time you went back to the Custody, dear."

Cayli frowned as her mum bundled the towel across her shoulders, mouthed why can't I tell her? over her shoulder as the woman marched her away. Soon only wet footprints marked their passing.

Peace fled, though the respite had been nice while it lasted. Denied Cayli's company there was little now to keep Natalie tied in place. The equilibrium of the morning swept free like a leaf tugged by the wind, only she wasn't sure if it felt like punishment or release. It's time you went back to the Custody, dear. The bottle called its sweetest siren, threatening to rip free all the nastiness within; expose every reason she had for oblivion being a better choice. Feeling the ghostly touch of that procession, she pressed a hand back over her head, pulled the soft lull of music from her ear.

She spent the next few moments flicking through her Wallet instead. Seeking distraction.

But escape beckoned one way or another. 

She returned to her room for her bag first, looped it over her shoulder as she made her way to the car park. Twines of power eased the rental car's door open. She stuffed her bag on the passenger side seat and slipped in, relief unfurling in her chest. Azu's car has been old and sometimes needed coaxing to choke to life. Amidah's car keys were impossible to find the second time she borrowed her vehicle. She knew the mechanics in theory, but it had been a long time and this car was a lot newer than either of those. Her hand rested on the dash. She frowned faintly and let the power run through, seeking the purr of the engine.

[Jensen James]

Jensen woke after a surprisingly restful sleep. The remainder of the morning, which he confirmed by peeking around the curtains, passed eventless. Jessika was growing excited to see him, but she withheld surprising Micah and Gabriel of his imminent arrival. Mostly because Jensen wasn’t sure when he would actually arrive.

He sent a couple of messages to Jay without response. He even knocked on Jay’s door to no answer. Thinking they might be asleep, he gently rapped on Natalie’s, but it remained shut. Wondering where they were, he finally chose the Carpenters’ room. Caroline opened it swiftly.
“I can’t find my daughter!” She exclaimed. Jensen blinked in surprise a few moments until he realized the profound meaning of her distress. Cayli was unaccounted for after Jay’s warning.

“I’ll help you look,” Jensen said. They departed in one another’s company, but on the brief elevator ride downward, he uttered a few prayers, which seemed to calm Caroline somewhat.

“We’ll find her,” he assured her before they split into opposite directions.

He searched the casino floor before the restaurant. Outdoor patios were skimmed, followed by a couple of conference rooms.

Finally, he was outside when Caroline sent him a message. Found her. Swimming of all things.

Jensen typed back: Thank God.

With the search ended, adrenaline seeped from his body, and Jensen realized he was quite deficient in coffee and food.