Welcome UselessWithAPen and Debwood1999! And Anguluhhh (whose name I probably just butchered)! And, welcome anyone else I may have missed. AND, LionOfJericho!
Author's Note: If you don't know what an anchorite is, there's a really interesting historical story to be had, there. Right up there with the devil's swimming pools. (Yep, shameless plug for one of my other stories.)
Also – I lost the thumb drive that this chapter was originally on, then by the time I found it, weeks had gone by. Then my muse died. I'm still sticking with the story, it just took a while to get back in the groove.
Thank you ALL for sticking with me. I love my readers, and refused to rush a subpar product.
"Do I wanna know what a kostbarkeit is, Switzerland?"
"A term of endearment, my darling. I thought we were past formality?"
Chuckling lowly, Meredith swirled her wine glass and settled her head down into the overstuffed throw pillow in her corner of the couch, a shift that produced static on the phone and caused Claudio to raise an eyebrow.
"Are we not past formality, Meredith?" His tone was part teasing, part serious inquiry, and Meredith thought back to the first time they'd gone out together – really gone out, not just spent an afternoon together or had a quick coffee between connecting flights. He'd been enough of a gentleman to at least act like he'd sleep on her couch that night, but they both knew they were kidding themselves. Their dinner together had been largely spent discussing Nick and Brena, their after-dinner drinks were topped off with a discussion of their mutual empty beds, and dessert consisted of a thousand contented sighs between the two of them, Claudio impressed by not just her bedroom, but also her ability to make perfect coffee the next morning. There had been more than a few mornings since then, both of them swearing to say nothing to Nick and Brena, but both of them finding it equally hard to watch their friends self-destruct from within the safety of their own relationship, fledgling though it was. There were times where Meredith was disgusted with herself for even having the idea to talk to Claudio on any sort of a serious level, but he'd called the desk at Magee so many times that she'd found herself memorizing his phone number – and then, as Deaglan's health declined, using it. She'd worried she was just a pity-fuck at first, but when Claudio stayed for both coffee and brunch after their first night together, she'd started to wonder if there might not be something to it.
Pleasantly, there was. Meredith supported his hectic travel schedule – she could be counted on to keep odd hours herself, so she never minded an early or late phone call – and Claudio was more than impressed by her work. Where most people saw a brusque, distant, painfully efficient nurse, Claudio saw a woman with a razor sharp sense of humor, who was also deeply affected by her patients. He'd listened to her sob after Deaglan's autopsy, and swore to himself that at the first opportunity he'd go to see her, to make sure she was okay. What he found wasn't Meredith, wasn't even a shell of her, but he let her cry herself to sleep in his lap all the same, bundling her blankets around them both on her sofa. He'd woken up with a horrible crick in his neck the next morning, a result of sleeping sitting up with her wedged into his lap, but she'd worked him through it and made him promise to come back; a promise he was only too glad to keep.
"Meredith?" She'd gone quiet so long he'd started to wonder if she'd dropped the call.
"Nah, I'm still here," She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes and pulled her feet up on the sofa – a move she'd never try in front of Brena, but with her safely asleep for the night, Meredith felt like she could take a few liberties. "It's just been a hell of a day. Yours didn't seem much better when we texted, but that was a while ago. Did things clear up for you? I don't want anything messing up our...well...vacation, I guess."
"Not at all, my dear, though thus far our time together appears safe," Claudio's statement was so casual that Meredith raised an eyebrow, but she let him continue uninterrupted, "Tell me, what has happened to you?"
"To me? Nothing. I'm in Bren's brownstone for the night, and I'm half a bottle into her merlot stash. She needed company; Alison came by and set her off. I can tell you without lookin' that she's sleepin' on the floor even though I put her ass in the bed. It's just her, now. The way she is."
"Set her off?" Claudio puzzled through the expression. "She has fallen from something? Off, I mean. Off the bed? Is this why she is on the floor?"
"In a manner of speaking, C. I forget, I gotta tone down the Americanisms for you. What I mean is," Meredith paused to top off her wine glass, "Alison came by and got Brena all upset. It looked like Bren tried to kill her with a baking dish when I got in here. There was casserole all over the floor, broken glass, and the poor girl – Brena, not Alison – bunched up against the door like she wasn't ever gonna go out again in her life, or else nobody was gonna come in. She's gonna have a bruise on her back from as many times as I hit her with the door, tryin' to get my big ass in here."
"Mein Gott," Claudio breathed, "Brena attacked Alison? What did the girl do? Mein Gott, I know she is not so...nice...but that is so outside of Brena! And you, schnitzel, are not big. Not in the way you mean."
"You're sweet. And, to answer the questions, more like Brena threw the baking dish at Alison. She's too scrawny and tired to be beatin' anyone up. Alison told her to sell the brownstone, so she had it comin'. She followed that up by saying Bren's losing her mind, and then talked some shit about Nick for good measure. Bren's sleepin' on the floor because she doesn't...I dunno. Doesn't wanna be alone."
"Mein Gott," Claudio seemed unable to find other words, "I can see why Brena would not be happy to hear these things." He said nothing about her being alone, knowing Meredith would fill in those blanks for him.
"And of course, she's missin' Blondie somethin' fierce, so Alison sayin' all her shit about him made it worse. You wouldn't happen to have any news on that front, would you? I know you guys are coming to town soon, but-"
"Oh, mein Gott, Nick, he is no better himself. Security came to his room some nights ago. He brought another woman to his bed-"
"Asshole," Meredith snarled, and Claudio chuckled.
"Plätzchen, he is seeking what he cannot find because it is not lost."
"Either you're deep, or I'm drunk, but I'm thinkin' we're somewhere in between," Meredith puzzled over his comment, and Claudio was happy to let her have the silence. "We both know Brena still cares about him like he went and hung the moon. She's miserable, though, waitin' on him when he's out bangin' anything that looks at him cross-eyed. That's not gonna work."
"He is looking for her, Meredith. All of these women, they are in some way like Brena. Tall, thin – perhaps a bit too thin – dark hair, very pale, and so on. He feels she is not...what is the word-"
"Nick thinks Brena's off the table for him, the dumbfuck," Meredith groaned, "So he's tryin' to what, conjure her up out of thin air?"
"That, though there is no magic in his actions, and he is more trying to bring his memories to life. He has nothing, Fraulein, he is broken. Drinking to excess, one of the quilts is torn, being thrown away from the ring-"
"Wait, wait," Meredith cut in again, "You guys are always thrown outta that ring. What do you mean? Did he get hurt again?" She paused, as though she hadn't heard Claudio correctly, and shook her head hard, "And what do you mean, about the quilt?"
"I mean, he is not being given as much time to perform, to work in front of a crowd, because of his behavior. First he has no Brena, now he has no audience. As to the quilt, the night security came to his room to rescue the poor woman he was with, he said he tripped over one of the quilts and now, it is torn. The man is losing everything to a broken heart."
"Tell me he was not about to put some two-dollar whore on one of Brena's family heirlooms and fuck her. Tell me, Claudio, that I don't have to shoot him on sight when I run in to him. I don't give a damn what he's drinking or who he's screwing – I mean, I do – but Brena gave those to him, and...and..." Meredith was working herself into hysterics, but Claudio could only shake his head and smile knowingly. Meredith's personality was an acquired taste for some, but he appreciated her fierce love and loyalty toward the people she cared about.
"Based on his reaction, bretzel, it was not his idea. I think the woman assumed too much about Nick's wants and intents."
"He wants Brena but he's dead-fucking-set on intending to be a dickwipe," Meredith fumed, "So, what'd you do to him?"
"To him?" Claudio shrugged reflexively, "Nothing. I put him to bed. He would not hear me even if I tried to talk to him. I am present in his life; it is all I can do until he admits to himself what the true issue is."
"Okay, I'll bite," Meredith mused, "Since I already know that the issue is Brena. What're you gonna do if he ever realizes he fucked up with her – they fucked up with each other, really?"
"Then I will sneak away to a quiet place and call you," Claudio's tone was suddenly light, and Meredith wondered where he was going.
"And, what, try to get them on our phones?" Try as she might, Meredith couldn't figure out what Claudio was getting at, why he'd need to call her about Nick's hypothetical epiphany about Brena.
"No, Meredith. Bring one blond mountain to a very thin molehill, if I am using the phrase correctly. We are in Philadelphia next week, as you have said. We should hope for a miracle, no?"
Meredith almost purred into the phone; Claudio's future visit, even though it would be impacted by his work schedule, was a welcome relief in the face of the chaos of the day. "Bring the mountain to the molehill? You're lucky you're so easy on the eyes, Switzerland. We hafta work on your colloquialisms, though there's other things I'd rather work on."
Claudio's laugh was easy and warm, and they spent the rest of the call chatting about everything and nothing, Meredith missing him terribly and starting to replace her guilt with drunken affection. 'If we work this out right, I won't have anything to be guilty about. We just have to work this out right.'
Claudio did his best to keep Nick out of bars and clubs in the time that followed his reduced TV load and largely-unenforceable demand for sobriety. Nick didn't know if he should be grateful that he had the extra time to mull over Brena, thanks to Talent Relations, but mull he did, from the safety of his mini-bar. He had come to Claudio a few days after the conversation with management and operations, and asked him if he wouldn't mind rooming and traveling together. Claudio was only too happy to keep watch over his friend, though he knew it was largely for show and would do little to curb his self-destructive streak. On the night of the disaster with the quilts, Claudio slept in the overstuffed chair near Nick's bed, woken every half-hour or so by his tossing, turning, and calling out in his sleep. He couldn't put anything together out of Nick's fractured words, but trying to make sense of them at least made his time in the armchair bearable. Upon learning that Brena was in no better of a mental place, Claudio and Meredith worked tirelessly to come up with a plan that put everyone in the same place at the same time, knowing full well that Brena couldn't handle watching the impacts and bumps in a live show and Nick would be only too eager to go out to a bar once taping was finished. One way or another, they were determined to bring their friends together, and for once, the WWE's convoluted travel schedule was going to help.
Nick did everything in his power to make life difficult – in fact, his behavior worsened after Claudio's call with Meredith, and it left him wondering if he'd been heard or found out. It took a few days before he put things together – Nick's understanding of the travel schedule suddenly revolved around all things Philadelphia – how far away they currently were, how soon they'd be passing through, and how many days they'd spend in town. His interest was both new and old; he'd been looking for Brena nightly, to no avail, and now she must have felt real to him. The nights Nick spent fixated on Brena's hometown were some of the worst for him, and by default, for Claudio. Nick acted like a petulant and drunken child, doing anything he could to try to both obliterate and rediscover Brena from a distance – he hadn't been back to her city since his discharge from Magee. The east coast made for good crowds and easy travel, with most major cities within spitting distance of each other, on top of the fact Connecticut anchored Stephanie and Paul's homelife. Claudio knew that within the string of tour dates coming up was a stop in Philly – what he didn't know was how Nick would handle it when it came.
"C'mon, Bren, scrub faster," Meredith shouted over the roar of the vacuum, "You're not making progress pokin' at the same spot for an hour."
Brena didn't understand Meredith's sudden fascination with cleaning the brownstone, but chalked it up to an attempt at snapping her out of her funk. 'It's certainly something, anyway. I don't think it's been this clean since...well, since Hazel. It's just me here, though, I don't need to do all of this.'
She had no idea that the week-long cleaning spree after Meredith's phone call was in anticipation of a houseguest she knew nothing about, though one Meredith and Claudio were only too happy to deposit on her doorstep.
"Nick, my friend, you must stop with this drinking you are doing. Consider sobriety, if only for a moment. And a shower, for several moments. Take advantage of the hotel facilities while we are here, eh?"
Claudio was working on a cleansing of his own – trying to get Nick to give his liver a days' rest and detox, and encouraging some passable level of hygiene. 'This will not work if you are a stinking wretch when we get there. Actually, perhaps I should find some new attire for myself, to take Meredith out to dinner.'
"Fuck off, C. I get what you're doin', and you can leave me the fuck alone."
"I am doing nothing but making sure you are sanitary," Claudio walked to the bathroom, lifted a stack of towels from the counter, and threw them at Nick. "Truly, my friend. You are not well. Is this part of going to Philadelphia this afternoon, or is something else amiss?"
"You know what? I shouldn't even have to fucking go. I get to suck face with CJ for ten seconds until her fatass furball comes out and punches me a few times before trying to sit through me. Tell me why I need to shower for that?" 'And her lipstick is gross. It's sticky. The stuff Brena had was...soft? Nice. Not sticky. And not lipstick.'
"My friend, it is because we travel in the same car," Claudio took hold of Nick by the shoulders and directed him toward the bathroom, "And so, you will be clean enough to travel with." Grousing, Nick went into the bathroom, towels in hand, and started a shower. There were still several hours between the shower and Philadelphia, but Claudio would take what he could get. In some ways, so would Nick.
Meredith and Claudio decided there was no point in trying to take Brena to the show; she'd have a nervous breakdown watching Nick in action, and anything they had to say to each other would be better handled in a less-public setting than the backstage area. Instead, Meredith suggested Claudio and Nick meet her and Brena at McCaffrey's after the show. Claudio was happy to agree; Nick would have a night's sobriety along with a good cup of coffee, and Claudio could simply take Meredith away from her latte and out to a meal. Their final hurdle was getting both of their charges to cooperate – no small task. Brena hated to go out, and Nick would complain about the lack of alcohol. Still, it was worth a shot. Failing that, Meredith planned on forcing Brena to her car and taking her directly to Nick's hotel room – fate could sort out what followed.
"You look like you're looking for something."
"Huh? Me? Uh, no, nobody. Nothing. I mean, just looking around, but no. Nothing."
Meredith was so distracted that Brena didn't believe her for a second. Her head had been on a perpetual swivel since she and Brena sat down in the coffee shop, and Brena couldn't put together why. Meredith hadn't mentioned bringing any friends along, and if she was worried about Alison showing up, she shouldn't have been. Wisely, she'd chosen to walk a wide circle around Brena since their incident with the casserole, and hadn't bothered to call or stop by. Resigning herself to sitting through yet another latte with her highly-distracted friend, Brena walked up to the counter to purchase their next beverages, deciding at the last second to add a brownie to the mix. While she waited to pay, Meredith popped up out of her seat as though she was on fire.
"Shit! I mean, uh, I have to go pee! Fuckin' coffee. Bren, I'll be right back, just wait at the table for me, okay?" She was off like a shot before Brena could get her change back into her wallet, bee-lining for the bathrooms down the long hall at the back of the cafe. Counting on Brena being distracted, she grabbed her purse off the table as she went, rushing across the floor. There was an exit door at the end of the hallway, but it never crossed Brena's mind that Meredith might go outside, around the building, and back up the block to her car. Sighing, she picked up their lattes and shuffled back to their table, her back to the door.
"Aw, c'mon, C, what the fuck is this?"
Brena's back was to the large storefront windows both while she stood in line and while she waited alone for Meredith; Nick hadn't seen her yet, and had opted to balk at the entrance, staring up at the awning and trying to untangle why the name of the cafe seemed so familiar but so foreign at the same time.
"This is a cafe, Nick. We can have coffee here. Surely that is not a mystery to you?" Claudio, knowing Brena and Meredith were inside, wanted to spend no more time than was absolutely necessary debating the merits of brewed coffee versus coffee-flavored liqueur in mixed drinks. The longer they stood outside, the more risk there was that Brena would turn around and potentially see Nick before he went in, giving them both an opportunity to compound their stupidity by running, hiding, and generally continuing to avoid each other.
"I know what it is, but that's not the fuckin' point! I didn't ask for a babysitter. Isn't there a bar around here?"
Rolling his eyes and nearly stomping a foot, Claudio jammed his hands in his pockets and shook his head. "My friend. Please. Let us do this. I would like one cup of coffee that has not come from a hotel bathroom or airplane hot-pot. If you will have one drink with me, I will have several with you. Go ahead and order. I will get my wallet from the vehicle," Making a show out of patting down his coat pockets, Claudio nodded pointedly at the door, willing Nick to go through it rather than follow him back to their ride.
Glowering up at the awning, Nick looked from it back to Claudio several times, knowing that his offer was the closest thing to a compromise that he was going to get. "One – and I mean only one – coffee. I'm not gonna sit here all fuckin' night," He pushed the door open and angled to get in line ahead of the other customers, not wanting to wait if they ordered anything complicated or large. The cold outside air sucked into the cafe in a giant gust, fluttering tablecloths and causing everyone inside to grumble and shiver, Brena included. She half-looked over her shoulder toward the entrance, then froze, unsure if she should run – or where.