DEAR SELF:
YOU REALLY NEED TO DO THE TAGS YOU ACTUALLY HAVE BEFORE YOU START CONTEMPLATING PICKING UP EXCITABLE VIKING BOATMAKERS. I DON'T CARE HOW RIDICULOUSLY ADORABLE AND CRAZY THEY ARE OR HOW MUCH FUN THEY WOULD BE.
JUST SAYING.
- LOVE, SELF
HI FOLKS I am currently in an airport for the first of two trips that will take me back home after two days of chaos and pandemonium. Should be back to start tackling tags later today, but the week ahead will probably be pretty crazy as well, so I warn you all in advance it will be slow all up in here. Sorry! I'll get to them as I have energy for, if you can bear with a snail's pace.
She hid with the ice, like the coward that she was, for a good five minutes before bringing it to him, her gaze wary. Resisting the urge to help him, she handed the pack over and took a seat beside him on the couch. ”Army born and bred or not, I keep forgetting that my opinion actually does not matter in Jimmy’s case.” She laughed bitterly. ”It’s a wonder I’m still alive.”
She said it flippantly, but knew the true severity of her words. If she pissed off the Army, she could easily be eliminated, along with Filip and Kerrianne. Sometimes she wondered why she was still around. She had heard the stories, stories that involved more than thrown punches and the flash of a knife blade. At the thought, she chanced a look at Filip, at the dried blood on his neck.
"Jesus Christ, what on Earth did he say to you, Filip? You’re lucky to be sitting here."
He accepted the ice silently, pressed it to the worst of it; by the time she returned he'd calmed somewhat. Was still stewing, but at least had calmed to the point of being able to communicate without snapping at her.
"You think I don't know that?" he finally answered, weariness settling in now because it was either that or hold onto the anger until it choked them both, and he was too worn out by the whole thing to keep the energy for that. "Does it really matter what he said? It would have ended the same way regardless. He didn't have to say anythin', he'd already decided what was gonna happen when I got there. Shouldn't have risen to the bleeding bait, but bit late for that now."
Fiona nodded stiffly, still so unsure of his words, even if they were logical. Of course he would not leave on purpose, but she knew that Jimmy had his ways. One wrong move could ruin them forever if Jimmy so desired. "I know, I know," she bit out on a sigh of frustration. "It’s all talk until someone is pointing a bloody gun —" She stopped short, biting her tongue, tightening her hold on Kerrianne. "They just might, you know," she whispered. "Drag you away from here…" A lump formed in her throat at the words, and she groaned, moving forward to press a firm kiss to his lips.
"For Christ’s sake, don’t do anything else so stupid," she breathed. "This is stupid, and it’s all my fault. Jimmy can rule all of Ireland for all I care. As long as I have you, damn him. Just — Just come home, Filip. That’s all I want. None of this matters without you.”
He reached up to cup the back of her head, pressing his forehead to hers, trying to will her to believe his words. Trying to will his words to become truth. Because it wasn't certain, nothing of this was, Jimmy could very easily make a liar out of him. He knew the risks.
"This is about us. It isn't about the club, or the army, he has to know that. If he won't accept it I'll....we'll find another way. But I have to at least do this much. For us, an' for Kerri. You know he won't back down if I don't, he'll only keep pushing and pushing until it tears everythin' apart. I'll do this, I'll come home, we'll deal with it from there."
It's what he would focus on the entire meet. Getting out of it whole, in enough of one piece to go home after. Keep Jimmy from turning him into a liar, for her sake if nobody else's.
[ aseriesofbadideas] ✉ [half-asleep text meme]
[text]: i probably shouldnt be txting you right now but i just wanted you to know i miss your everything
[ text ] Thought we established that I am anything but an unwilling victim. Trapped by choice, but not a victim. I’m the one stirring shite up.
[ text ] So if you want to text me, text me. I’ll deal with the consequences. At least this means we’re speaking.
[ text ] Or not. Because you probably can’t read and won’t remember half of this. [ text ] By the way, I love you.
[text]: I can read
[text]: typing is less solid but i can read fine
[text]: you shouldn't be there. you shouldn't have to deal with this shit. I'm sorry
[text]: I love you too
The over-wash of relief that she felt upon seeing his eyes open was short-lived, as she realized that he was not really looking at her. Something in her conscious mind considered drunkenness, concussion. After all, had Filip ever not been known to drink himself into a stupor? And what did he mean she ‘shouldn’t be here’? This was their house.
"Well, I am here, lovey. Get used to it, yeah? Not gettin’ rid of me so easily anymore." Dialing a number, she pressed the phone to her ear and grabbed Filip’s hand with her free one, squeezing, nails against his palm in an effort to stimulate his semi-conscious state. "Tara, it’s Fiona …"
The certainty of her words, combined with the bite of nails, seemed to call a bit more of him back. Free hand scrabbled against the floor, trying to push himself to upright despite the wave of dizziness and nausea that came with it. Despite the sharp tug in his side the movement prompted, pulling a sharp hiss out of him.
"No, ye don' un'erstand," he protested, eyes closing tightly as if it would help. Trying to focus. "S'not safe here, they know. They'll come."
Are you just going to disappear on me again? // AHAHA SO THAT THING YOU TALKED ABOUT.
"You say that like I ever had a choice in the matter,” she snapped, the words appearing and evaporating before she could even comprehend what she was saying. ”You think I wanted this, Filp? Do you think I want to go back to him? To Jimmy? Knowing what he’s done to you — to — us —? Jesus Christ!”
The band around her finger comes off at the words, and she hurls it at him. Misdirected anger. Jimmy will notice, no doubt, but Fiona cannot bring herself to care. She never wanted any part in this. None.
"Do you not think — that if I could have followed you, I would have?" She screams, a sob erupting from her throat. "Do you not understand? She will die. If I stay, he will see it as a betrayal, and Kerrianne will die. I can’t let that happen, Filip. She’s all I have left.”
"There's always a choice," he spat back, even though he knew -- would know, once he'd had a chance to calm down -- that sometimes the best choices were the ones that hurt the most. But why she felt compelled to re-open that hurt, to come to see him when she knew full well she couldn't stay...
"If yer so concerned, why come, then? Why take the risk? You think it's doin' me any favors? Seein' you like this, knowin' yer just gonna go back to that?"
The ring bounced off his chest but he made no move to retrieve it, let it bounce and ring against the floor. It was about killing him, knowing she was right but wishing, desperately, there was an answer he could give. A solution that wouldn't fuck all of them over. He was powerless over here, unable to see either of them except when she could get away, unable to do a bloody thing about any of it. His hands were tied, and he hated it.
"Chiiiibssssss." His name slurs from drunken lips, he’s had a bit too much to drink, a mixture of beer and scotch which plays heavily on his breath. "Wanna join me? C’mon have a drink with yer brotha." He laughs, trying to imitate the Scots accent.
The effort to mimic only gains an eyeroll, but at least Chibs knows it's only because the poor bastard's too plowed to do better, not the mocking efforts he gets in the bars sometimes. He ambles over to settle next to him at the bar after slipping behind it to grab a brew of his own, and it's an amused smirk he greets him with. "Like bein' home," he teases, never mind that 'home' for him has been Charming for the past decade and Scotland was only ever the place he started. "Think if ye keep practicin' we could get ye citizenship an' everythin'."
The touch of his lips sent shivers down her spine, and she was suddenly caught between giggling,going weak at the knees, and standing exposed in the middle of Maureen’s kitchen, despite the fact that they were both fully clothed. She shrugged at him, a warning, though not enough to brush him off. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and when the brush of lips disappeared, it only quickened. Fiona looked down and was silent for a moment, because she had to catch her breath before saying anything.
"Oh, really?" She asked, finally able to match his smirk, her eyebrows coming up, as she met his eyes. "Brothers or police?" This was far from amusing, especially if it was the latter, and she did not know why, but she had to know. She had seen one N.I. Police scuffle after another, each one more brutal than the last, and she just had to know. Whatever the case, at least this one had not lost an eye.
It was Filip’s question that tore her from these thoughts, and Fiona sighed pressing against him all the more, as if to aid in her words. ”Bloody. Exhausting. Even St. Matt’s can’t keep all the horrors out, and it’s frightening, really. Not so much the place itself, but — Kerri asked me if it was haunted, the little imp, and I nearly turned and ran all the way back to Maureen’s.”
"Peelers," he clarified, not that the idea seemed to concern him any. They'd been bought and paid for already, and while he was sure his outburst had only succeeded in increasing their salary, while it had certainly made their own efforts a bit more difficult he couldn't be bothered to feel particularly contrite about it. He left out the part about nearly getting them all arrested, he was certain she would hear about it soon enough, and anyway they were here, now. Past the first obstacle and into the lion's den, and if that meant a lecture somewhere down the road about the wisdom of mouthing off to people already coerced to help you against their better natures, so be it. "Shouldn't be a problem now though."
If she insisted on trying to meld with him, he thought idly, she was going to get them both into trouble before long, but for now he only shifted his grip to accommodate, pressed a soothing kiss to her shoulder even as a quiet chuckle followed.
"It was a fair question, you have to give her that. Lots of old ghosts in this part of the world."
[ throws this at you because it reminds me of our dorks yep. ]
[ aaaaaah yes good. precious dorks ]
Fiona could count the times that she had been truly horrified on one hand. True — she had been scared plenty of times, somewhat hysterical, and when she became hysterical, she could be more than a bit overly dramatic. But this, this in front of her, was the definition of bone-chilling fear. "Oh, Jesus," she breathed, her handbag hitting the floor with a dull thud, as she crossed the room. Kneeling by Filip’s head, she found his sluggish pulse with one hand and reached for her pocketed mobile phone with the other. "Jesus Christ, Filip. What happened to you?" Gently, she tapped his cheek. "Come on, love. Wake up for me. Wake up."
It took a small eternity before he finally stirred, a weak groan to accompany the flutter of eyelids. A few more long moments before they cracked open, unfocused and dull, seemingly tracking nothing in particular. "Fi," he asked, but it held practically no strength; everything was hard right now. "Shouldn' be here." There was a reason, a very important one, but everything hurt and he was so tired.
Regan ran over to Chibs, saying his name over and over in hopes he'd respond to her. Hands waved a moment in frustration before she pressed her fingers to find his pulse, other hand trying to work his kutte and jacket open to press her head to his chest. "Chibs, wake up! Come on, don't do this ta me!" Panic was hitting her and she pulled her phone out, trying to think of who to call. Tapping his cheek, she nearly screamed, "CHIBS! COME THA FUCK ON!"
"Stop shoutin', girl, I hear you," came the answer, albeit barely above a whisper. Eyes didn't open yet, it felt like too much of an effort. Something felt sticky behind his head and he raised an arm to try to feel, but it was like moving through molasses. Everything was, fogged and distant. The arm dropped, boneless. "Shit," he breathed. "What happened?"
[[you two kill me]]
[[ahahaha thanks. I think.]]
"I knew they would be," Fiona teased in return, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth before answering his question. "I’ve told her about how I was taken with you from the moment you rode into town on that old bike and about how you didn’t know what to do with me or my flirting. Had other things on your mind, you did — being a prospect and all."
She grinned. This was still teasing, of course. Filip had been a steady lad, and Fiona had fancied herself a catch at the time, what with Jimmy and every other clean-cut fellow sparing her a second glance. In all honesty, she was the one who had faltered at their first meeting, because Filip had treated her as he should have, as if they had just met. There was no second glance as far as she could remember, and their falling for one another had been a gradual thing. "I’ve told her a bit about your time in the Royal Army, and I’ve just started to set her straight on Jimmy. She may be frightened out of her mind, but she has still found it in herself to be pissed at me as of late, and rightfully so. She doesn’t like that I stayed with Jimmy for any reason — much less a cause that has the people around us getting shot at day and night. I used to justify it, but I don’t anymore. She — reminds me too much of her father."
"Pigheaded, ye mean?" But it was only a smile that he gave her, a tease for the sake of it. Because it was true, and honestly there were a great deal other, worse, traits of his she could have gotten. "She'll understand. Maybe better off without the whole of it, but... She may not understand now, but that doesn't mean there's not a reason in it. We both know that. She'll come around." Maybe. Hopefully.
"You tell her how I got kicked out or more fairy stories about how heroic I was?"
