Staring at his reflection, Kai Proctor deftly buttoned his white shirt. Morning had come to Banshee, Pennsylvania without further incident. Surprising, considering the incitement of yesterday evening. Truthfully, Kai had stayed indoors, choosing not to venture into town after watching the broadcast. However, a quick glance at the morning news had revealed an obvious descent into pandemonium. Had that been what she wanted—utter chaos weaving throughout the population? It had been unexpected of someone like Alison Medding. Someone normally above petty squabbles. Someone he had helped mold. Someone that might have been his progeny had life taken a different turn. Despite her choice of profession, Kai respected the woman she had become. In recent years, a woman who had normally exuded power without effort had changed. Had it only been motherhood to make her behave so recklessly? Ironic, seeing as though she lashed out like a child.
Still, whatever Alison's intention, this entire situation would soon disappear. That, he had no doubt. Alison might have further provoked it, but Calvin Bunker was the root of the problem. Gnarled and equally stubborn. Kai should have put him down long before now. Perhaps, he would not have lost such a huge asset to his profits. Randal Watts had been a detestable human being, but he had known his way around revenues and could easily command his underlings. Make them work harder and faster if necessary. Cut off any unwanted problems before they affected the business. The man had the smarts and charisma, not to mention the ambition, to go far. Yet he had been snuffed out before Kai could have made his grand profit. His son-in-law had all but ruined those plans. Fortunately, the situation could see be salvaged without too much loss.
Speaking of which, Kai spotted Burton from the corner of his eye. His loyal assistant had been patiently standing a few paces down the hall, waiting for acknowledgement. Burton was not the target of this wait, of course. Surely, it was the group right outside his home. Sighing silently, Kai shifted his head, focusing on Burton, whom immediately turned his head to indicate their new guests. The man had never been one for speaking needlessly. All action, no talk, Rebecca often called him. Stifling thoughts of his niece for now, Kai turned completely and walked down the hallway. Without a word, the two men moved through the house and towards the entrance.
Doors already ajar, Kai stepped out onto the gravel, along with Burton. Nonchalant in his movements, he quickly surveyed the group. He counted thirty, give or take, carrying weapons—bats and chains. All men. All stern in their expressions. Of course they were. No doubt they had come to string him up. The audacity of this group. If he had not found their numbers necessary, he would have done away with them long ago. This outrageous display of power was immature at best. True power did not need such flaunting. Calvin Bunker had yet to learn. Unfortunately, he would never learn. Still, this number was smaller than Kai expected. He had expected the whole of Banshee's faction. Supposedly, the others were elsewhere, waiting for the next command. It would not come.
"Morning," Kai greeted coolly.
Not a one returned the greeting. Bad manners all around. Not that it came as a surprise. He dealt with Neo-Nazis, after all. Kai could not imagine them as polite. The crowd dispersed as Calvin Bunker, himself, walked forward. Expression fixed into a strange combination of casual and determined. Trailing behind him was a woman. Dark hair spilling across her shoulders. She wore a baseball cap and sunglasses. Unexpected. Kai examined the group again, closer than before. It appeared this woman was the only one among them. Judging from the way the men moved to allow her through as well, she must have been close with Calvin. Perhaps her presence explained this show of power on Calvin's part. He wanted to impress her. Too bad his bravado would only end in humiliation today.
Calvin came to a stop a few feet away, hands resting on his waist. Had Kai been a decade younger, he would have rolled his eyes. Rebecca certainly would have. Alison would have as well. "How are you today, Mr. Proctor?" Calvin asked, feigning courtesy. Kai idly wondered if it was just habit for the boy now. He tilted his head, gaze leaving the woman. Wife, perhaps. Truly, he had never cared about Calvin's personal affairs, though he knew of a marriage. Either way, she mattered little in this situation.
"That depends," Kai began, deciding to play along with the faux civility. "Have you come to apologize for your folly?"
Calvin snorted, fleetingly tickled. Then his expression shifted back to intense. "No," he answered. "I've come here to watch you beg." Kai restrained himself from showing exasperation. Had he been fond of wasting time, he would have hated this boy in front of him. However, others matters proved far more important. Still, on some level, he wanted to bash Calvin against the pavement. The entitled upstart most likely only understood the threat of pain. Calvin stepped closer, causing Burton to move forward as well. Kai made no such movement. He held the upper hand. It was only a matter of revealing it. "You killed my men," Calvin stated.
"You stole my drugs," Kai replied just as nonchalant.
"You know," Calvin said with a shake of his head. "There's nothing more annoying than an old guy thinking he's still running things." He whipped out a blade. Burton tensed, ready to defend. However, there was no need. His official guest decided to make his entrance. Kai watched the color drain from Calvin's face. The boy sharply turned, hurriedly lowering his weapon and stepping a few steps back. Mouth open, he stared as Kai's upper hand moved by his side.
"I believe you know our mutual friend, Senator Mitchum," he said, gesturing towards the man and his companion.
"Put that knife away before I cut out your fucking eyes with it!" Mitchum ordered. Like a good dog, Calvin ducked his head and moved both hands behind his back. Feebly, he questioned the Senator's presence. "What am I doing here? You murdered my fucking Lieutenant is what I'm doing here." Calvin opened his mouth, likely to protest, but the woman spoke on his behalf.
"My husband did no such thing, sir!" she said. "My father was murdered by another."
"Is that what he told you?" Mitchum asked, without tearing his glare from Calvin. "This fucking idiot didn't bother to hide the evidence. It might be an ongoing investigation, but I know it was him." The Senator stepped around Calvin, obviously choosing to address the subordinates. "This little insurrection stops here. And once you are dismissed, you are to tell everyone of us who came to this town that Banshee, Pennsylvania is not to be fucked with. You have been misled by this… this imbecile who can't see the bigger picture. This town is to be a hub for greater things. Things that will ultimately push our beliefs forward, but now, that has been placed on pause because Black Steel has set her sights on us."
"Black Steel…? Sir, I don't understand," Calvin said.
"That's because you're a fucking idiot," Mitchum flippantly replied. "Why do you think Banshee was chosen? Because it was the only place Black Steel didn't hunt us. As you're well aware, The Brotherhood goes way beyond this town. However, in these other places, we've lost many of our leaders thanks to Black Steel and Alison-fucking-Medding. Now, come to find out she's the same goddamn person."
The Senator went on, both insulting her and sharing her exploits. In her youth, she had targeted many of them at random. However, the majority happened to be captains and lieutenants. The physical attacks had stopped, but then she had begun picking them off in court. By herself, she had steadily fractured many factions outside of her hometown. The Senator put on quite a show, making sure to drive home that the threat of Alison Medding could be disposed of at any time. But. The truth of it was fear. He feared her. Knowing the law front and back, using loopholes, finding the smallest details—that was her talent. No amount of bribes, coercion, or shared belief could stop her from winning in court.
Perhaps not even Alison realized the extent of her reputation among these mongrels. Or perhaps she did. Why else would she announce herself as Black Steel after so many years? Still, the Senator could not touch her. If she had been dealt with prior to these spiraling events, then maybe her death would not cause a stir. However, because of her many won cases—on top of the moniker—a sudden death would be treated as a sacrifice for backlash. Ultimately, her hometown of Banshee could not fulfill its intended role for whatever ridiculous agenda. Because she would be honored. Honored enough to incite resistance and backlash. She was a threat. In both death and life. And why wouldn't she be? That was how he shaped her. However, her retaliation interfered with his business. It was best to sever the path before any more could go down it. No more miscalculations.
"It sounds like you admire her," Calvin said through clenched teeth, interrupting the diatribe. The Senator looked his way, cheeks splotching an angry red. Calvin either did not notice or did not care. "What's one black bitch gonna-?" Knuckles against cheek, Mitchum backhanded the insolent boy. The strike had been jarring for a reason other than pain. Calvin sharply turned back to his superior, glaring, only to receive another slap to the face. Kai felt no sympathy. Perhaps, a slap—or two—prior would have put him in his place before things shifted so out of control.
"Smartest thing for you to do right now is shut the fuck up," Mitchum advised. "You hear me?" Calvin's nostrils flared, but he did not make a move. As intended. The Senator was meant to stomp down on the idiocy. He had done so perfectly. Disrespecting Calvin in front of his peers served its intended purpose. In the future, these men would not listen to someone who had been so thoroughly put down. In addition, Calvin could be quietly taken care of afterwards. It was a win-win situation. Kai would have his revenge for the loss of Amish lives. Slower than what Rebecca wanted, but it would happen all the same. Mitchum turned back to the crowd. "This is Monty," he continued as though the slight altercation had not taken place. "He's gonna be running things from now on—make sure things go smoothly."
Without warning, the woman stepped to the Senator's side. He probably did not spare her a glance, which might have been the reason he did not move. Even as she pulled a gun from the back of her waistband. Pressing the barrel of the pistol against the Senator's temple, she pulled the trigger. A loud bang, followed by the body dropping to the ground, stunned the spectators into silence. Kai furrowed his brow, not quite grasping what had happened. Then the one called Monty stepped towards the woman. Calvin moved as well. Knife drawn already, he hurriedly swiped at the man's throat before he could reach. Monty gurgled on his own blood as he fell to his knees. He grabbed at his neck with both hands in an attempt to halt the flow of blood. All for naught. He fell over, dead before his head cracked on the gravel.
In unison, husband and wife turned his way. Kai stared back at them, watching the blood slid down their skin. Because, of course, the blood had spattered with them being so close to their victims. To his credit, Calvin appeared a bit disturbed by his own actions. However, he fixed his face. Grim and steadfast. At his side, his wife did not appear the least bit disturbed. She smiled with such malice. Taunting and wicked. "What else you got?" she questioned, aiming her gun at him. "Or was that your only trick to dismiss our revolution?" Burton shifted behind him, and the woman noticed. She pointed the gun at him instead. Chances of him disarming her from this distance were slim. Kai had overestimated Mitchum's influence. No. That wasn't true. He should have easily ordered a fallback. However, this unexpected woman had completely thwarted his plans.
Before Kai could begin to rush through possible ways to diffuse the situation, the screech of tires cut through, drawing the attention of everyone present. A large black van approached quite rapidly and showed no signs of stopping despite the crowd in front of its path. The vehicle knocked down a few before the others thought to move out of the way. Calvin hurriedly grabbed his wife's arm and pulled her out of the way. The couple crashed into the shrubbery just as the vehicle glided pass. Kai only managed to take a step backwards, but the van came to a halt right in front of him. He took another step back but tilted his body to the side.
The van's door slid open and three tattooed men jumped out. These tattoos, however, were of a different gang affiliation. Salvadorians. Leading the pack stood a familiar skinny man—Hector Morales. Kai had not seen the man in over a year. After taking over Frazier's territory, he had made himself scarce though they still had an agreement of sorts. Gloved hands gripped the sword's hilt. His fascinations had shifted towards the Asian territory. Or perhaps the sword had been another gift. Dark eyes shifted to Kai and a grin worked its way on his face.
"Ms. Bowman sends her regards," Morales called before he, and his men, began the vicious slaughtering of nearby Brotherhood members. Morales used both gun and sword, shooting and slicing his way through enemies. His subordinates stayed near the vehicle and slew them from a distance. As most of them brought melee weapons, they stood no chance. The return fire meant very little. Kai took this time in allowing Morales' words to sink in. Rebecca sent him here…? Had she known…? Well, his niece had become adept at gathering substantial information in recent years. However, to predict the Senator's demise…?
Kai frowned deeply. He should have prepared for something like this despite the low possibility of it happening. Why had it happened in the first place? A high-ranking member of their lot gave them orders, and yet they had chosen to ignore him. The woman had chosen Mitchum's demise over the pecking order. Why had she done it? Before he could ponder further, Kai felt his arm grabbed. Burton drew close, guiding him towards the van's door. "Sir, we must retreat," he insisted. Had Burton applied any more pressure to his arm, Kai would have stumbled into the van. Not a second later, the driver honked the horn, apparently signaling Morales and his compatriots. All three men climbed inside the vehicle and the driver stomped on the gas. The sliding door slammed shut, and for the moment, they were safe. Despite the bullets ricocheting off the van's hull.
Kai... The familiar voice drew his attention. The man, ignoring the drumming of his heart, looked to the left. Crouching beside an unknowing Burton, Arita stared back at him. Her apparition come to haunt him again. For his mistakes. Kai stared back just as intense. You focused on the wrong bitch. Indeed, he had. Glowering, he punched the floor of the van. Again and again until his knuckles bled. All his plans gone to waste because of the wrong bitch. You know there is only one way this can end. Arita spoke again, mirroring his frown. In blood.
"Yes," Kai found himself replying aloud. "In blood."
"Sir…?" Burton questioned. Kai fixed his gaze on the taciturn man. "What is your order exactly?" So many pushed for this ending. Rebecca in her righteous anger. Alison in her back against the wall mentality. His nephew, Solomon. Calvin and his wife. With so many players gunning for the same thing, could he continue to stay his hand? Even Morales looked at him with expectation in his eyes. Though, he probably only wanted the chance to use his sword so excessively. With the turn things had taken, The Brotherhood had outlived their worth.
"Eradication-" Kai answered. "-is the only way now."
0-0
Fingers moving slowly and gently across her visible skin, Kurt watched as Alison continued sleeping. She, as usual, slept on her front with her arms wrapped around her pillow. Only, her face was turned in his direction, so he could watch her lips twitch in her sleep. Even now, it amused him. Kurt, himself, had awoken a few minutes ago, almost completely wrapped around her. Truthfully, one of them should have been awake while the other slept. Just in case. After all, they had provoked the whole of The Brotherhood last night. They both expected retaliation and had planned to counter. Planned to be cautious in their movements. Even sleeping. However, they had not considered their exhaustion.
More than likely, they had fallen asleep quickly after settling in bed. They had come to his home. As expected, no one watched the place. Still, as a precaution, Alison had parked two streets over. They had walked through the alleys before entering the house through the backdoor. Late at night as to not draw suspicion. They had not talked much, really. They had enough talking from both the Sheriff and the Mayor. Inciting a potential riot. Aggravating an already precarious situation. Defying orders to stand down and stay out of sight. Fortunately, as Alison had coolly told them, they had not been on the clock. Both men had not liked that but could do nothing except reprimand them for as long as Alison allowed. Steadfast in her decision, she had not apologized for any of it. And neither had he. Kurt felt strong next to her. Like nothing and no one could stand before their united front.
Kurt wondered if Calvin felt something similar. Had his own united front been enough to continue this war? To go so far? As usual, thoughts of his brother caused a frown to form. Kurt sighed lightly before shifting. He moved to slip out of bed without alerting Alison. She slept on, unbothered by the shifting weight. Another sigh left him before he walked away from the bed. He glanced at his sleeping partner as he opened the door. She had not moved much, so he went about his morning routine. Kurt almost headed upstairs to check on the kids but remembered just as he stepped up.
Shaking his head a bit, he altered his path and headed to the downstairs bathroom. Stifling a yawn, Kurt shut the door behind him. He relieved himself quickly, and then moved towards the sink to wash his hands and face. After he was done, he stared at his reflection, allowing the water to drip from his chin. The time for thinking back and contemplating had gone. Yet, he could not help it. His enemy was his brother. His brother who could not be saved. It was too late. Kurt should really stop thinking of him as brother in the first place. Calvin had been the one to destroy that bridge, after all. Pursing his lips and shutting his eyes, Kurt turned away and reached out to grab the towel hanging from the metal rack. He wiped his face, and then hung the towel again. Without thought, he would have to end it all. For the future. For his family. For the rest of Banshee.
Kurt left the bathroom and went back. Alison still had not left the comforts of bed. Feeling a smile form, he turned right. He would make coffee for both of them. And then breakfast once she woke up. Reaching to turn on the coffee maker, his other hand reached for the cabinet to pull mugs down. A part of himself was surprised his house remained intact in his absence. Those petty or angry enough would have destroyed everything. After all, they had already lost more than a few members, and he was a tangible target. Or, at least, his dwelling was. Kurt placed the mugs on the counter. He then crossed the room to his bed area.
Alison had shifted to wrap her arms about his pillow. He felt a smile tug at his mouth at the sight. Honestly, he had the same habit. Nearly every time they shared a bed, he would find himself waking up with her pillow if she had gone. Unable to help himself, Kurt climbed back onto the bed and slid up beside her. Unlike him, Alison was not a heavy sleeper, so the less than careful movement jostled her awake. "Mmph…?" she muttered, voice muffled against the pillow. "Kurt, what are you doing?"
"Good morning… I'm making coffee," he told her, sliding his arms around her form. Alison muttered something before shifting to her side, pressing her back against his front. They now shared the same pillow. "I'll make breakfast, too." She hummed in agreement and immediately settled. Kurt blinked slowly, and then shifted a bit himself. He nuzzled the top of her shoulder, pleased with the mix of her unique scent and his soap. "Yesterday was… a lot," he commented.
"Yeah," Alison said. "But there's no going back now."
"I know that," Kurt stated, palm idly sliding up and down her front. He shut his eyes for a moment. "It's what needed to happen." Alison hummed again. Kurt found himself smiling as he opened his eyes. He slid his hand down further, slipping pass the waistband of the boxers she wore. Alison twitched but did not protest or move away. "You…" His fingers slid lower between her legs and began moving in a circular motion. He heard his partner slight intake of breath. "You were amazing," he said. His lips pressed repeatedly to her neck. Truthfully, if they had not felt the exhaustion pressing down, he would have showed her last night. "Is that what you're like in court, too?"
"Mm hm…" Alison lifted her left leg a bit. Her fingers gripped the sheet beneath her. "Probably a bit mo-more tame."
"You were a work of art," Kurt complimented. "Powerful and determined. Poised and confident. Christ, Alison…" He moved his kisses to her neck as his other hand lifted the t-shirt to expose her skin to the morning sun. Alison arched as he squeezed and rubbed her perfect scarred skin. She turned her head, meeting her lips with his. Their kiss quickly deepened but lasted. Slow and lazy like they had all the time in the world. When Kurt finally reared back, giving them both a chance to breath, she only followed. A moan jump from her mouth.
"Y-You, too," she said, mildly out of her breath. Alison reached in between them, fingers quickly finding and stroking him though his boxers. Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to become too lost in her ministrations. He swallowed thickly when her hand deftly slipped inside his boxers. "If I hadn't been so tired… I would have taken advantage last night." A chuckle slipped. They really were similar. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Kurt whispered before catching her lips again. He pushed and tugged the boxers she wore down her legs. Alison complied with the movement, scooting backwards and tugging his boxers down as well. Kurt slipped his arm from underneath her to guide himself inside. His other hand grabbed her waist to steady her. Christ. They had both come a long way to reach this point. Years ago, Alison would have not allowed something like this. A lazy morning fuck from behind. In the back of his mind, Kurt realized why. Well, he could assume, but he would never question. He never wanted Alison to relive those memories. Especially when they shared a bed. But here she was, trusting him completely for this.
She released a lengthy moan along with his name, muffled by his mouth. He could feel her tense as he picked up the pace just a bit. She moved with him and against him in a slow tempo, drawing out their kisses until he felt dizzy. And then she continued. Again and again. They could go slow like this. This morning, they the luxury. Kurt held her close, breathing in her scent. Nothing spectacular. Not nearly worshipping. Still, this felt so good. This type of intimate trust between them. Like they could do this countless times without comment. Significantly insignificant. He could get used to this carnal familiarity. Now, there were no lingering doubts that he should not deserve this. He wanted this so badly. He would not let it go again. Her. His family. His life. All of it—he could accept that he deserved them all.
Alison finally came, shuddering and gripping him as best as she could in her position. Her mouth broke from him, breathing in sharply despite the mildness of their exertions. Kurt finished himself, deep inside. He bit his lower lip as she hummed in content. "Shit," he muttered, a thought abruptly coming to mind. Slipping away he frowned, the clarity of the situation stopped him from really enjoying the post-coital bliss. He had not thought about it until now. Should he be so reckless when he made love to her? Not thinking had brought Naomi into the world. "I didn't mean-"
Alison chuckled a bit, shifting her body to face him. "Don't worry," she told him as though she knew where his thoughts had gone. "I'm on birth control." He stared at her, eyebrows drawing together. "After I gave birth, my period wasn't as regular as before. It was annoying, so I started taking birth control to regulate it." She kissed him until the frown faded from his face. "We're okay." Kurt sighed lightly, relaxing then. He shifted on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Alison shifted until she was comfortably laying against him, head on shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her again and pulled her close. For a moment, they both rested in silence. Then she tilted her head. He could feel her eyes on him. As usual. "Is this how you're going to wake me from now on?"
"If you want me to," Kurt said, smile forming.
"Only if you're a bit faster," she teased, sliding her fingers against his side. "We have kids now."
"Hm…" He feigned consideration. "I might have to catch you in the shower."
"Or a quickie in the laundry room," she laughed. "Or maybe I'll catch you on your lunch break?"
"I would like that a lot," Kurt stated. "But I don't think I could suffer through Billy's knowing grins." Alison laughed again, highly amused. Her gaze left him and she tilted her head back down. Another moment of amicable silence passed before Kurt cleared his throat. "You think after everything… we could, maybe, have another kid?" The question startled her. He could tell by the way she tensed. "I mean… I understand if you don't want to. Naomi wasn't exactly planned. Maybe you didn't want children in the first place."
"… Did you want kids before? Before, Naomi, I mean," Alison murmured.
"No," Kurt admitted with a shake of his head. "I couldn't imagine something like that for me. Not even after Officer… Mr. Miller. But now, yeah, I-I like it—being a dad." He looked down, only managing to spy Alison's top profile. He could not tell what type of expression she held.
"I never thought about having kids before either," Alison said. "Especially with the… games that I played early in my career. I just… never wanted someone to come so close to me either. Then, I met you, and my entire viewpoint shifted." She hummed against, thoughtful. "Well… I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm actually quite the traditionalist. First comes marriage, and then the baby carriage—or however that saying goes."
"Are…" Kurt could not keep the smile from his face. "Are you proposing to me right now, Alison?" To his delight, she became rigid and sputtered out incomprehensible words. Clearly, she had not expected this question either. "Are you trying to make me Kurt Medding?"
"Shut up," she said without heat.
"I never thought I'd get a proposal," Kurt continued to tease her, enjoying the way she tried to hide her face. "Shouldn't there have been a bended knee?"
"Jesus Christ, Bunker!" Alison murmured, pressing her mouth and nose against his chest.
"Soon, it'll be 'Jesus Christ, Medding!' Should I expect a ring, too?"
"If you stop this right now, I will give you another kid," she bribed.
Kurt chuckled, a surge of happiness filling him. "I'll be there this time," he assured her, accepting the bribe. For now. "I'll rub your feet when they're sore. I'll make you whatever you want when you get cravings. I'll let you hit me when you have mood swings."
"Relax," Alison told him. Kurt sheepishly settled down but remained elated by the thought. He had missed so many firsts with Naomi. He would love the chance to be there from the start without having to worry about someone stealing those moments from him. "Let's… survive the next few days before we seriously discuss the future, okay?"
"Yeah," Kurt agreed, tempered by the reminder. There was still one final hurtle to jump, after all. But they would survive. They had to. They already had kids that needed them. "We should get ready now." Alison groaned lightly but nodded. She rolled away from him and sat at the edge of the bed. His hand, seemingly with its own mind, followed her. Another smile crossed his face as she stood up. His t-shirt, unfortunately, covered just above her thighs. She turned around and caught his stare. Narrowing her eyes a bit, she cocked an eyebrow in question. "Nothing," he said. She only tilted her head and crossed her arms. "You're beautiful." The confession came equipped with warmth rushing to his face and neck. Especially since Alison only stared at him.
"When… did it start for you?" she questioned. Kurt blinked. "This," she said. With a wave of her arm, she gestured between them. "When did you become attracted to me? I'm curious."
Kurt blinked again, memories flickering through his mind. Truthfully, he had not thought about it. He grunted as he sat up. Then he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Still, it was relatively easy to find the moment it had begun for him. Fleeting at the time, he would not have thought too much of it. But in hindsight, he could confidently give the when. He would rather tell her of another time—a time after they had gotten to know about each other. But… it wouldn't be the truth. Kurt craned his head to look her way out of the corner of his eye. Idly, he realized their positions were too similar.
"That night," he told her. "At the CADI."
"Really…?" Alison said, seemingly surprised. Both eyebrows rose. "When exactly? When I claimed to know everything about you? When I kept glaring at you? When I threatened to accidently shoot you?" She laughed then, apparently tickled by the notion. "Oh no, it must have been when I was covered in blood. That was the money shot."
"I'm glad you can look back at that night and laugh now," Kurt said. Alison showed her teeth in a grin. Honestly, with everything they had gone through—what they would go through in the next few days or hours—it paled in comparison. "It was… after you shot that Redbone—after you saved my life." Kurt turned his head straight. "I barely acknowledged it for what it was, but I thought… wow. I started having dreams about it later. So yeah… that's when it started."
"Oh," Alison said. Kurt felt her climb on the bed before her arms wrapped around him. She pressed her lips to the back of his neck. "For me, your tattoos were all I saw. But it started earlier on for me, too." That came as a surprise. Kurt turned his head to meet her eyes again. "No, not at the CADI. Later, at that little diner. When you beat the shit out of that guy. I knew that it wasn't even about me, but I felt… touched by what you did. How you reacted because he hit me. It's probably why I thought we could be friends." Kurt furrowed his brow, hand reaching for hers. He squeezed, wondering aloud why she brought this up. "Just wanted you to know, I suppose. It didn't take much to shift my perception of you. In case I don't get to say it later on."
"Hey, we're gonna get through this," Kurt insisted.
"War is war, Kurt," Alison retorted. She then sighed heavily and her breath brushed against the sensitive part of his neck. "We both know there's a chance that…" She sighed again. "I just wanted you to know that you're better than you were. We've both come so far from… the CADI. Whatever happens, just know that no matter our sins, no matter how we're shaped, no matter how long many lives we destroyed or allowed to flourish, everything that happened had to happen to get us here. I don't regret it. Not a moment." She squeezed him tighter. "I'm glad we found each other despite all the bullshit surrounding us. I love you, Kurt."
For a long while, he did not know what to say. Of course, Kurt realized the possibility of what they had set out to do. However low or high, there was a chance that one or both of them would not make it. Alison understood that. On some level, the home invasion had drilled it into her mind. That could have gone either way. And so could this war they had instigated until there no longer lied a possibility of compromise. No more running. No more stalling. No more mercy. He knew that, too. Kurt sighed himself, lowering his head and shutting his eyes.
"I love you, too," he finally said. Alison hummed and lifted her head from his shoulder. "Let's get ready now."
0-0
For the fourth time, the call attempt went straight to voicemail. Billy Raven frowned deeply and glared down at his cell phone as though the device itself mocked him. He had tried calling yesterday night, too, with the same result. Apparently, Kurt intended to keep his phone off. He had not heard about the man's stunt until this morning upon clocking in. Both the Sheriff and Brock had informed him. They had borderline questioned if he had known anything about it. True, Billy could normally read the mostly stoic Bunker, but he had no idea of his intentions. Fortunately, he supposed, someone had thought to record last night's press conference. Watching Kurt and Alison Medding tag team speech had him nodding along. Despite knowing how bad things could become because of it.
Already, things had been tense. The press conference put everyone on edge now. Civilians had gathered throughout the downtown area. Protesting. Hood had immediately sent out bodies to have a presence. A semblance of control. Billy examined the faces of the divided crowd. Clearly, the police force was outnumbered. By both groups. Tension running high, Billy did not doubt an inevitable clash. These dangerous men were clearly offended and growing increasingly irritated by the shouting and the colorful signs. No Nazis being the tamest. Honestly, it came as a shock that two hours of this had not already turned into chaos. No. Not a shock if he thought about it. Their affiliation made them militant in nature. They would move only when ordered. Or if provoked enough. Unfortunately, their militant nature meant nothing if they became angry enough.
This standoff was a ticking bomb. And that probably was the intent. Billy slid his phone into his pocket and sighed. What would he even say if Kurt answered his phone? Surely, the Sheriff had already berated him for his rousing, reckless, speech. Maybe he just wanted to show his annoyance at not being told beforehand. They were friends, weren't they? Was it weird to feel mildly slighted that he had not known about it before now? Then again, Kurt seemed new to the concept of friendship. Billy narrowed his eyes, gaze on the members of The Brotherhood. Hmph. Real friendship. Maybe he should give the guy a pass considering.
Well, Billy did have something to tell him. He wondered if it mattered anymore, though. With Job's help, he had found the source of the leak. The reason those men had found their home. It was speculation at this point—himself connecting the dots—but it seemed highly likely the information had passed from the resident spymaster. In hindsight, it made sense. No one could actually prove it, but the woman, Rebecca Bowman, had her hands in just about everything. Finding a law enforcement official would be a trivial thing to her. Still, sending an address was not necessarily a crime. It could be used in a court of law in accumulation, but by itself it meant little. Besides, he and Job tracked an IP address to Savoy. That did not necessarily mean that it had been the woman in charge.
Billy suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He immediately shoved his hand in his pocket to grab the device. Without looking at the caller ID, he swiped to answer and put the phone next to his ear. "How good of you to finally call me back!" he bit out sarcastically. "I've been trying to reach you since I got to work!" Well, that was not necessarily true. Billy tended to keep his phone off until breaks. Really, he had only been trying to reach Kurt from the start of his first break. "When were you going to tell me about-?"
"Raven." A familiar voice, which certainly did not belong to Kurt, greeted with mild exasperation. "It sounds like you're stressed."
"You have no idea," Billy muttered, refraining from sighing. "What's up, Aimee? You never call me when I'm on the clock."
"Oh, I just thought I'd give you a heads up," she said. His former coworker sounded entirely smug. "I'm driving to BSD right now to speak with Sheriff Hood. I can only imagine he's been stressing as well. So, I've come to… maybe… relieve that stress."
"… I do not want to hear about a bootycall."
"Raven!" Aimee squeaked, all smugness gone in an instance. Billy could practically hear her cheeks swell and flush. He almost grinned in triumph. His former coworker tended to come off as tough and cool—like no one could rattle her. He had enjoyed rattling her immensely in the past. She pretended to despise him for it. "I was talking about the situation in Banshee!" She breathed harshly before clearing her throat. I saw the broadcast last night. Got me thinking, so I'm here to… provide support."
"Support…? Last I heard, you only had three subordinates," Billy pointed out. "The police force would still be outnumbered." Aimee hummed, self-satisfaction returning. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
"My three subordinates and I are almost to BSD," she reiterated. "The support is on the way to you. Or already there."
"What does that mean?" Billy questioned. "Aimee, what do you mean?"
Instead of waiting for her answer, he found himself looking at the divided crowd again. He had gotten distracted, trying to call Kurt. Then Aimee had called, drawing his attention further away. Now, as he stood to the side, along with his coworkers, Billy realized the crowd seemed to have increased in mass. More the left side than the right. With a start, he realized he could make out familiar faces in the crowd. Well, most citizens were familiar to him. But these particular faces hailed from the reservation. The reason he had spotted them so quickly, strewed amongst Banshee's protestors, was because their faces were painted. Red. The marks of war. The last time he had seen these marks, Chayton Littlestone led an assault on the CADI.
Despite the years, a shudder ran through him. Billy swallowed hard, free hand reaching to his shoulder. "How exactly-" Was his voice raspier than normal? Billy squeezed his eyes shut, mind shortly going back to that night. "-is this support?" He opened his eyes. "This is more fuel." Even now, he could see the faces of them harden further because they saw the war paint, too. Further provocation. This was happening. This would really happen today. Billy could not see a way out now. "Why would you think bringing Redbones here was a good idea?"
"It's not a good idea," Aimee said. "I know that. Every cop fiber of my being is screaming in protest of this method. Because this is not protecting or serving anyone right now. Quite the opposite. But you know what's even louder? My blood. The blood of the tribe. It sings louder than my profession ever could." Billy could hear the tremble in her voice as she spoke. "If these people are allowed—to think they are allowed—to show up en masse and bully and threaten innocent people, nothing will stop them from doing it elsewhere. On our lands. Outside of Pennsylvania. Anywhere. They'll think they can rise up without fear. And… I can't sit there and do nothing when I can help… put the fear back in them."
"Aimee-"
"Chayton," she cut in. "I wish I couldn't understand him. I wish he were only a delusional criminal. But a part of me knows he was right. Closed-minded and violent—but he was right. I really wish I could just be a cop about all this. But I can't. It's not just Banshee fucking Pennsylvania on the line, Billy. It's everyone. I know this is not a good idea short-term. But it's the only thing we've got. Long-term, this is protecting and serving. Like they said: No mercy. And those are not Redbones. I told you that I got rid of the corruption. That included the gang. Who you see are the men and women warriors of our tribe. They volunteered for this. And they're not going home empty-handed. Therefore, this is your warning. Get. Ready."
With that, Aimee King disconnected the call. Billy released an uneven breath. No doubt she would probably say the same to the Sherriff. Without incriminating herself as the one responsible for bringing them here. "Fu-" He bit his lower lip, breathing in deeply through his nose. So, there was really no turning back, huh? The Brotherhood had crossed the final line. Calvin Bunker had crossed the final line, leading to more people involved in the conflict. No more avoiding it. It would not take much more time. Billy exhaled through clenched teeth. "Contact Dispatch to radio all units," he told the deputy beside him. "We need everyone down at the plaza now."
"Yes, sir…!"
0-0
"Have you seen the news today, uncle?"
Laying sideways with her legs crossed at the ankles, Rebecca kept her gaze focused on her widescreen television. She had heard the approaching footsteps entering her living room. She already knew about her guests prior to their arrival. After all, she had set it up this way. Not moving from her position on the deep red lounge chaise, she seemingly focused on the news report. Since earlier this morning, the coverage regarded the protest in the middle of downtown. Banshee's citizens had rallied and set their sights on The Brotherhood. All sorts had shown up. African American. Asian American. Native America. Caucasian American. Even a few men who were Amish. It was quite the spectacle. If she had not already known the power of words, she would have been surprised. United through one cause. Influenced by a rousing speech. Caught up in the moment before the storm hit.
"Rebecca, what have you learned?" Clearly, her uncle did not care for idle chatter at the moment. Gaze flickering to the wide arch between the living room and the hallway, she eyed the three men that had entered. Her uncle, of course. Clay Burton. Hector Morales. She allowed a smile to cross her face before finally shifting. Her black heels quietly touched the floor and she stood from the chaise. Rebecca greeted them with a slow nod of her head, and then focused on Hector.
"Thank you, Hector," she said. "I appreciate you delivering them to me. I hope to do business with you in the future."
"I didn't only come for you," Hector returned. "You promised me more Nazi targets to sharpen my blade. You are certain there is no consequence if I do that?"
"You must wait for the chance, but yes, I am certain," Rebecca stated. "If fact, if things go accordingly, you might just be considered heroic." Hector smirked then, though she was sure that he cared not for heroics. As long as he could use his swordplay. The tattooed man then bowed in a gaudy way before turning to leave. Despite his flashy nature, Rebecca was somewhat fond of him. After all, he had willingly worked with her. One of the first in her rise of power. Once gone, she turned her attention to the two men. "I can only assume your failsafe plan failed?" She could not keep the haughty tone from her voice.
"Did you know this would happen?" Uncle questioned.
"From what I gathered about Calvin Bunker, I realized it was a possibility, yes," Rebecca told him. "He is too far gone to listen to superiors. He is a man that has lost nearly everything. He was not going to lose his power just because one man told him to. Especially since he has it in his head that he can take over Banshee completely." A scoff left her mouth. "Fool that he is." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Did he end up killing the Senator?"
"Shouldn't you know already?" Uncle asked.
"I'm not psychic, uncle," Rebecca retorted. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't know everything that happens in this town at any given time."
"It was his wife," Burton spoke up, drawing the attention of both Rebecca and her uncle. "The Senator physically disciplined Calvin. The wife took offense. And lashed out in his defense." Rebecca felt her eyes widen. Margaret Bunker…? Unexpected. Why would Calvin bring her? Especially in light of her marital transgressions? Had she…? "I suspect it was not planned. Had she not retaliated, Mr. Proctor's plan of subduing The Brotherhood would have worked. And he would still have his workers."
Rebecca turned away, barely refraining from rolling her eyes. She reached for the remote on the chaise in order to turn off the television. Margaret Bunker. None had seen her since her stunt at the police station. She had effectively stayed hidden until now. Rebecca suspected the use of a disguise. As well as a location that associates would not know about. If she had killed Senator Mitchum, she most likely intercepted. However, she was the daughter of the late Randall Watts. She should have a fall in line mentality because of that. Clearly, that had not been the case.
Truthfully, Rebecca had tried to locate her. Take her as a form of advantage or bait. Perhaps if the woman had been captured, her uncle's plan would have worked. The chance for that still seemed low, though. Considering the flood of gang members. Rebecca believed that Calvin would still attempt to hold onto his power. Hm. Power. Perhaps, the little bit of power husband gave wife caused this turn of events. Perhaps, Margaret Bunker also wanted to hold onto her power. Well, it did not matter now. Banshee was on a one-way course now. No order or plan would stop it. She had made sure of it. In the end, it did not matter which of them killed the Senator. As long as it happened.
"It's a shame about Senator Mitchum," Rebecca remarked, facing the two men again. "He would have been an important asset to use… He had such a delightful secret I could exploit. Did you know he had a second family? Hidden somewhere in the Cayman Islands. Like money. I don't believe his… brothers would not appreciate finding out about his interracial indulgences." Her uncle's uncle jerked. "He, himself, divulged this information to me."
"Are you implying that this woman found out this information and that is why she killed him?" Uncle questioned. "Or are you saying that you purposely leaked the information to her?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Rebecca said, frowning. She did not tense. "I would not try to topple your business ventures despite our separation. Obviously, this woman is smarter than anyone gave her credit for. She could had known. She could have just reacted because of her loyalty to her husband. We don't know and it really doesn't matter at this point." She kept her expression perfectly neutral. "I'm sure you now realize what must be done, uncle," Rebecca continued. "Fire not lightning."
"Fire and not lightning," Uncle agreed. Rebecca almost released a sigh of relief. "Besides, I can see you set this up quite nicely. Any action taken will be justified in the eyes of the law, which is what I assume you told Morales."
"As long as the Sheriff behaves accordingly," Rebecca said. "So, shall we take a trip to his office to tell him of your horrifying escape from dangerous men?"
"What about Calvin?" Burton questioned.
"Yes, I have a number of locations he may be," Rebecca told them. "When you find him, Clay, bring him to me alive." Burton blinked and tilted his head to the side. His eyes then glanced at her uncle. "Solomon, and a few of Hector's men, will go with you. Leave the rest for dead."
"Do as she says, Burton," Uncle ordered. "Make sure my nephew does not get hurt."
"Yes, sir," he responded, but shifted his piercing gaze to her. He then nodded his head. For some reason, the slight action tugged at her insides. She could not stop herself from tensing now. No. This was the best course of action. She would not falter. "I will bring Calvin Bunker. And protect Solomon Bowman."
"Thank you," Rebecca said. Unnecessarily, she walked to Burton and loosely wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. He, of course, did not like the display of affection, especially in front of her uncle. Stifling the urge to giggle, Rebecca released her hold on the man. His lower lip twitched before he turned and left the living room. She watched him go until she could no longer see him. Then she turned to her uncle. The man stared at her, expression carefully crafted. However, she could tell the interaction had his curiosity. She did not give him time to ponder. "Shall we go, uncle? We have much to discuss on the way."
0-0
A sudden knocking caused both Alison and Kurt to tense. Brown eyes looked his way, watching as he quietly closed the refrigerator. He then reached for the nearby cabinet. From the highest shelf, he pulled down his Glock 19. Alison rose from her chair as Kurt cautiously moved towards the door. The knocking came again from the front of the house. He opened the door that led to the hallway and Alison followed. However, she halted at the threshold while he continued forward. She pressed her back against the open door, out of sight, and slid the knife from her back pocket.
Of course, they had prepared in advance for another home invasion. All entrances had been barricaded with hard wood planks. Windows and doors. Except the front. Only one point of entry to funnel any would-be intruders. No matter how many tried, they would have no choice but to go through a narrow hallway. Despite Kurt's confidence of his former gang giving up on this place, they still had secured any advantage they could. Just in case. Even now, close to noon, they needed to be cautious. Kurt's house was only supposed to be shelter. Not the battle zone. But they could not take the chance. Still, would those monsters really knock…?
Alison breathed in deeply, holding the blade to her chest. Sharp end down. She heard Kurt's footsteps halt. "It's a woman," he announced quietly, obviously using the peephole to observe. The knocking came again, louder than before. "I don't recognize her." One of his neighbors perhaps? Most people in Banshee must have seen the press conference yesterday. Maybe someone had come to either berate or wish him well. The urgent knocking indicated something else though. "She's not wearing something that can conceal a weapon. But she looks pissed."
"Open the door and send her away quickly," Alison advised in a whisper. "If she tries something, I'll be ready."
"Okay," Kurt replied. Alison heard him turn the doorknob. Then the door opened. For a few quiet seconds, Alison could only hear her own heartbeat. "Can I help you, ma'am?" Alison peeked around the corner of the door. Kurt had only opened the front door a bit. However, his form effectively blocked the visitor from view. The woman must have seen the gun held at his side, though. "If it's not important, I think you should leave."
"I'm not leaving without Alison, you son of a bitch!"
Alison flinched, recognizing the voice. However, it was too late to warn either party. A split second later, she heard Kurt's grunt of pain. Seconds later, he laid flat on his back, arms pinned to his sides by the woman who straddled him. His own gun pointed at his face. Alison grimaced at the sight. "Lena…!" she hissed. Her eyes sharply lifted from glaring at the man beneath her. Her best friend's expression softened but her grasp on Kurt did not. "I wasn't expecting you this early."
"I took an early flight," she flippantly replied. "Didn't expect to see such an interesting broadcast." She bared her teeth in a malicious grin. Alison pressed her lips together and looked elsewhere for a second. "Would you like to explain yourself?"
"Please get off Kurt," Alison said, slipping the knife back into her pocket. Lena Bella blinked once, and then looked down at her captive. He stared back, lips pursed in frustration. She made a face before slowly standing up. Kurt waited a moment longer before standing as well. He then held his hand out, expecting the gun. Lena scoffed lightly before passing the weapon to Alison. "I'm sorry, Kurt. It completely slipped my mind to tell you that I gave her this address. I wasn't expecting her this early."
"I'm still waiting on an explanation for this, Ali!" Lena interjected before Kurt could respond.
Alison tried not to sigh. She stretched her arm, gesturing to the adjacent room to the left. With a huff on her lips, Lena crossed her arms and practically stomped into the living room. "Jesus Christ…" Alison muttered. Then she looked Kurt's way. His eyes focused on Lena. His mouth frowned deeply. "I am sorry," she insisted, drawing his attention. "She's… She's the one that taught those self-defense classes I took, so she knows more than me."
"That why you told her to come?" Kurt questioned. Alison nodded as she handed his gun back to him. "I'm glad she's on our side. I'm going to get something for my eye."
"That'd probably be for the best while I talk to her," Alison agreed. "Call the Millers, too. Check on our… on Naomi and Hank." Kurt nodded his head, and then lowered himself to kiss her cheek. Alison felt a smile form as Kurt turned away to head back into the kitchen. It remained even as she walked into the living room to face her agitated best friend. Lena sat down on the couch, arms still crossed. "I know what you're going to say…"
"Oh, do you now?!" Lena blurted.
"And I honestly don't want to hear it," Alison finished. Lena glared at her. "I already told you about him."
"You neglected to mention your baby daddy is a fucking Nazi, Alison!" she snapped. "Gods, I assumed he was ugly, but this type of ugly? I-I can't even imagine how-"
"I told you how," Alison reminded. "How we met. How he persisted in returning a favor. Our friendship. I told you everything-" Lena opened her mouth. "-that mattered." Her mouth shut. "Yes, it was a watered down version of events. Yes, I could have told you more at the time. But I assure you, his former gang mentality doesn't exist within him anymore. What matters now is he is Naomi's father. I trust him. He makes me happy. And he loves our daughter. Any details of our relationship can be discussed later with lots of wine, probably on your part. The reason I told you to come to Banshee is to have my back. Do I have your support?"
Lena stared, appearing quite flabbergasted by the declaration. If she saw the press conference, Alison could imagine the reaction had been similar. Then Lena sighed, harshly, through her nose. She shut her eyes. "Fine," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Of course. You have my support." Alison nodded, relieved. "Then, tell me what's happening now. What exactly is your plan?"
"It's pretty simple really," Alison said. "Kurt came up with it years ago." She shut her eyes for a few seconds. "Though, back then, it would have been easier to carry out. Only a group of people would have sufficed. But their numbers are larger—even larger because their leader called in others outside of Banshee. That is why I had to, not only provoke them on a grander scale, but also involve more than just a single group of people."
"The town itself," Lena said. "Regular people in this plan of yours."
"Regular people can do extraordinary things if the cause is just," Alison said, sensing the mild disapproval. Under normal circumstances, she would have disapproved this method as well. Basically, she intended to use them like shields. Diversions. Sacrifices. She recognized the horrible method, but really, The Brotherhood had placed them all on this path. A path of battle and bloodshed. A path with only two possible outcomes. Fight or accept. And neither side could accept how things were now. They had no choice but to fight. "I should know," Alison continued. "I used to be a regular person."
"Did you?" Lena asked, sarcastically. "Maybe I would have believed something like that had you not revealed yourself as Black Steel." Alison felt herself grimace. She had met her friend in college outside of state. However, Lena's hometown was in Pennsylvania. A town that Alison had gone hunting in. She had known about Black Steel from rumors. "That's what you did, right? I mean, that's what you implied. I can't believe you never told me you were a goddamn vigilante."
"Why would I confess my crimes?" Alison retorted. "Besides, by the time I met you, I was trying to forget about it." Rather, her mother threatened her to forget about it. "I didn't even realize people have given me a moniker because of my activities until you brought it up in college. The only reason I implied it last night was to... remind them of what I'm capable of. Fear can be a powerful advantage."
"And a powerful motivator, Alison," Lena stated. "They are going to come for you."
"That's what I want," Alison said. "Funnel them in one place so they can all be taken out at once."
"Are you that confident it'll work?"
"… No," she admitted. "They'll be stragglers. I'm not foolish enough to believe the entirety of them will fall, but as long as it's the majority. The point of all of this is to make them afraid again. To prevent any of them from doing something like this again. To take away the power they gained in the two years I was gone. But it can't just be grunts, it has to be leaders." Both Calvin and Maggie needed to be taken out. "This faction cannot rise again."
"So, I'm to be a soldier in your war?"
"Lena…" Alison warned. Her friend only shrugged, looking elsewhere for a second. "Please stop trying to talk me out of this. I can't turn back now. Right now, I don't need you to be my conscious. I need you to put those skills to use."
"I already said I'd support you," Lena grumbled. "But I'm going to complain about it the entire time." Alison rolled her eyes. "You're lucky we're dealing with Nazis and I like beating down assholes."
"Yes, quite lucky," Alison agreed, earning a huff from Lena. "We-" Before she could continue, she heard Kurt's footsteps. Turning to greet him, she saw the ice pack he held to his face. Behind her, Lena huffed again but obviously with satisfaction. Alison refrained from rolling her eyes again. "Did you get into contact with the Millers? How are Naomi and Hank?"
"I did and they're fine," Kurt replied. His eyes looked to Lena. "Ma'am…" he tried. Lena did not respond, so Kurt pressed his lips together before focusing completely on Alison. "Unfortunately, my phone died mid-conversation. And I wanted to call Billy back since he called me four times. My phone was off until I called the Millers, so he's probably pissed." Alison had to stifle the smirk. Kurt did not know it, but Billy was definitely his work spouse. "I think I left my charger at your house. Can I use yours?"
"I have an iPhone, Kurt," Alison told him. He only stared blankly. "You have an android. My charger won't fit yours." She smiled then, amused. "No wonder Hanks calls you technologically inept."
"You are the reason he calls me technologically inept," Kurt replied, humor sneaking into his voice as well.
"Please spare me the flirting," Lena remarked, sounding put out.
"I bought a charger for your phone a little bit ago," Alison said, ignoring her friend. "It's in my car. Go get it and bring it back for charging. After it's done, we'll all head out."
"Okay," Kurt said. He, again, lowered himself to kiss her. Alison shut her eyes, feeling his smile against her lips. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He reared back, palm lingering at her lower back.
"I'll be waiting."
Unfortunately, the time spent waiting would not be only a few minutes.
0-0
Kurt awoke slowly. His eyes opened even slower. Not that sight could tell him his current location. It was dark with only a single dim light source. The edges of his eyes remained blurred as he attempted to compose himself. His entire body felt the ache of the ambush. An ambush when he had returned to Alison's car. He had only been a few paces away when he had felt the first blow. He had attempted to fight them off. But he could not take on eight men at once. Not by himself. And not without weapons. Maybe he had been too confident. He had left his gun in the kitchen. And now he was caught. Trapped in an unknown location. Suspended by chains from the ceiling.
"There he is…" A voice spoke, prompting Kurt to lift his head. His sight became clearer as his gaze traveled upward. The person stepped closer and he realized he stared in the green eyes of his sister-in-law. Of course. Kurt swallowed hard, feeling her eyes roam his face like shards. "You've been out of it a bit longer than I thought you'd be. But now we can start." Kurt said nothing in response. "Where is my son?" Again, he said nothing. He only lowered his head again, worried more about the condition of his body than her right now. Maggie sighed lightly as though she expected better of him. "Fine."
Another pair of legs came into view. "Kurt, I am already really pissed the fuck off." The sound of his brother's voice made him snap to attention. Coming to a halt beside his wife, Calvin stared calmly back at him. "You're not the one I wanted in this position. It was supposed to be Proctor. But since you're here, might as well take advantage." With his arms behind his back, his brother stood too calmly for his liking. Kurt found himself tensing in apprehensive. Countless nightmares came to mind and he could not stop the involuntary jerk. "So, I'm going to ask you one more time, big brother. Where is my son?"
"Safe," Kurt said through clenched teeth. "From you. And your fucking wife." Calvin sighed, showing the same disappointment Maggie had presented. "Alison said the truth yesterday. You'll never see him again."
"See, that's not what I wanted to hear," Calvin said, lowering his arms to his side. Instead of a blowtorch, he held a harmless cell phone in his left hand. "So, now we're gonna have to do this the hard way." He lifted the phone and dialed a number. He must have placed the phone on speaker because the ringing. Then someone answered. Kurt did not recognize the gruff voice. "It's time. Bring Banshee to a heel." It took too long for Kurt to realize what the order meant. By then, he already heard the screams on the other end of the phone.
It had begun.
0-0
Nope. Still not done.
Eheheh...
But we're like super close, though.