(no subject)

[nottheboss]

It's late at night. The corridors aren't quiet; they're full of men and women restlessly trying to sleep in their quarters. Bossie should be one of them. But instead he slips barefoot down the hallway to Carver's room, where he knocks.

"Hey, man, you up?"

Comments

[fortitudosalutis]

"Kid, get out of my way," Riley states flatly. He moves to the bed, eyes never leaving Bossie once, and he tucks the kitten into his pocket. Like hell is he leaving her. He'll carry her through the woods if he has to. "You gonna move?"

[nottheboss]

"The kitchen first. Don't make this harder than it has to be." He doesn't move.

[fortitudosalutis]

There's a small duffle bag by the bed, half packed already. He zips it closed and swings it over his shoulder, stepping into his boots. "Fine," Riley snaps, temper flaring. "I'll say goodbye. But you are not stopping me unless you can give me a really good reason."

[nottheboss]

It almost came to blows. He doesn't know how he'd explain that to Carver, but for now, God be praised, he doesn't have to fight.

"Come on," he mutters. "Maybe we can tell you the reason."

[fortitudosalutis]

Riley just exhales through his teeth. This is a goddamn mess, is what it is. It's too early and his jaw hurts. He wants to go home.

"Show me," he snaps, too frustrated to bother modulating his tone.

[nottheboss]

Another Reaper--Turner, even Austin--would take that tone as a challenge. But maybe that's why Carver sent Bossie; Bossie is more moderate. Bossie is mostly only violent when his brothers are.

He sighs and leads the way to the kitchen, wishing he could warn Carver ahead of time. All he can do is blurt out, "He wants to leave, sir. Unless we can tell him why he shouldn't."

[fortitudosalutis]

The door swings open. Carver's in the middle of prepping trays of food, ready to be served out to the hungry masses. Knowing their brothers and sisters, it'll be devoured, nothing but crumbs left behind. He glances up, expecting to see Bossie or another brother, and just freezes.

Riley's jaw is set, his gaze cold and furious.

Carver swallows hard. "Riley -"

"I'm leaving. Right fucking now. Unless you tell me what's really going on. No bullshit, Brandon. No bullshit."

Oh, God. Carver stares at him, stricken.

"No?" Riley nods just once, jerkily. "Okay, then."

"Wait!" Carver steps forward, reaching for him before he pulls back. "Just - just wait a second, please."

[nottheboss]

"We can explain," Bossie says, desperate to give this much to Carver. Desperate for Carver not to lose one more person to the demons. "Just...just stay here."

He looks at Carver. "I can get Fifty. He can show him."

[fortitudosalutis]

Carver breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth. He counts to four once, twice, again. It doesn't help.

"Get him," he murmurs. "Please."

Riley just crosses his arms.

[nottheboss]

"Don't go anywhere," Bossie tells Riley. "Just- just don't."

And then he rushes through the hallways, up the stairs, to Fifty's room first, praying he's there.

[fortitudosalutis]

Gabe, thankfully, is both there and awake, though not dressed. But back in the kitchen, Carver and Riley just stare at each other. The room almost hums with tension, too loud.

"You want some more coffee?" Carver tries hopefully.

"No."

[nottheboss]

"Gabe," he says, a little out of breath even though the run is nothing to him. "I need you to come convince Riley to stay. You need to- to teleport him. Prove to him we're not crazy. Or else he's going to leave."

Or Pope will order them to confine him and that's even worse.

[minuteofangle]

Well, this wasn't how he'd planned to start the morning. Gabe lowers his arm, tilting his head toward the door. He's bare ass naked, for one thing. It's also early as hell, for another.

"Okay," he says slowly, and if he's tired he pushes past that. He sits his ass up and he dresses himself matter of factly. "How much time do I have?"

Minutes, seconds? The three minutes he'll need to get himself dressed?

[nottheboss]

"If you could come barefoot and not bother dressing all the way I won't complain," he says, pacing restlessly, wondering if Riley has already left.

[minuteofangle]

Okay, then. Gabe doesn't bother with questions or protestation. He just shrugs, gets his pants and a clean shirt on, and then motions for Bossie to step closer so Gabe can take his arm.

A moment later, they're just in the kitchen. And he has to duck because Riley yells and throws a heavy goddamn bowl at his head.

[nottheboss]

"Hey!" Bossie hollers, moving in front to shield Gabe. "The fuck?"

He looks around, quick, for Carver.

[minuteofangle]

"What the fuck!?" Riley demands, grabbing for a cast iron pot and hefting it over his head, readying another throw.

Carver jumps between them, hands raised. Beseeching. "Wait," he pleads. "Riley, just wait, we had to show you -"

[nottheboss]

"Put it down!" Bossie doesn't have his side arm but he has his knife. He has it up. "Put it down and listen to us. Listen to Carver. For fuck's sake."

He doesn't take his eyes off Riley. "You good, Fifty?"

[minuteofangle]

And now there's a knife in play. Gabe tilts his head, frowning as he considers the situation and the way that Riley's voice rises up, up, and up and finally cracks as he yells. He thinks about the knife that Bossie's pulled and the way Carver sounds like he's about to cry.

Not good, is it?

"I'm good," he replies calmly. "Hey! How about we don't throw the stupid heavy shit at the blind guy?"

[nottheboss]

"Yeah that was a bullshit move," Bossie snarls, and maybe he's protective of Gabe and maybe that's obvious now. "Put it down and I'll put this down and we can talk. Got it?"

[minuteofangle]

"What the fuck!?" Riley repeats, nearly screeching, but he doesn't throw the pot. He doesn't bolt for the door, either, and nobody needs to get tackled to the ground or disarmed.

Progress. Maybe.

Gabe taps his bare foot against the floor, sighing loudly. "Hey, Anders? Wanna see a magic trick?"

"No!"

"Okay," Gabe continues, calmly. "But we're gonna talk now, so I need you to focus and breathe. Think we can try that? Carver, make some more coffee. Please. I'm not awake enough for this."

[nottheboss]

Slowly, slowly, Bossie lowers his knife. "If you hurt Gabe or Carver I swear to god I'll take your arm off," he tells Riley, but he's willing to try this.

They have to make him see reason.

[minuteofangle]

"Don't fucking threaten me," Riley hisses.

"Okay, how about we take like ten steps back?" Gabe suggests, tapping his bare foot against the ground. Everyone's emotional and tense and he's riding high on his zen; it's almost pleasant because so far nobody's gotten stabbed. That might change, though. He knows it, they all do. Everyone he's so goddamn well trained. Riley's been off active duty for a while but Gabe knows better than to underestimate a twitchy soldier, former or otherwise.

And this is a shock. Of course it is.

"Coffee," he repeats firmly. "And then we're gonna stand here and talk like adults. Nobody's going to hurt anybody, yes? Can we agree to that?"

[nottheboss]

"Yes, sir," Bossie clips out, moving carefully, moving to the coffee pot. To the mugs. Never quite taking his eyes off Riley. He brings a mug back to Gabe and gently sets it in his hands.

Finally, finally, looks at Carver, who he dreads to look at because of how this must be hitting him.

[minuteofangle]

Slowly, haltingly, the moment settles as much as it's going to. Nobody does any violence to each other. Not yet.

Gabe reaches out to feel for the wall, orienting himself. His goddamn feet are cold. And he can't see the expression on Carver's face, but his tech's synched up well enough to read the careful way Carver holds himself. Anxious, fighting back the fidgets.

"Okay," Gabe says slowly. "Monsters are real. We're fighting demons."