by Jack Parker
Georgie shook her head, looking straight again. "Every one of us chose a dark path at some point, didn't we? Mine came when I was fourteen and walked in on my father hitting my mother in the garden with a brick for getting soil on the walkway and I caved in his head with the spade of a shovel. Then he was dead and gone. My mother had the gall to be angry with me…to tell me it was wrong. That I'd be going to hell for what I'd done. That just because the authorities called it defense of a loved one didn't mean I wasn't a murderer. And I knew in that moment that there would be no more heroic boys on playgrounds in my life. I'd have to stand up for myself, and I would do so whatever the cost. I met Aleksei Ludkov in London at nineteen years old. He was dangerous and intimidating and if I could throw my lot in with him, I would be as well. So I did his errands. I perfected his language, infiltrated operations, cemented myself a place as his spy. I vacillated on occasion of course, but I think I always knew deep down that the life of crime was forever mine."
"Problem is I was never satisfied. Whatever I had, there was no reason not to stretch for better. I've been an overly ambitious fool…Aleksei kept me comfortable in my place, but there was no room for advancement. Ludkov is not at the top of his command chain…and the Dutchman is. So I became his spy instead. I fed him information on the Bratva and he presumably used it to his advantage in garnering their favor. It was dangerous. I didn't like it. So I left Ludkov's service and stuck with the Dutchmen and his horrid crew of misfits with the certainty that I was on to bigger and better things. He was building an army and I wanted to be on the winning side of whatever war was to come. Aleksei is a lone wolf. I was afraid of being crushed alongside him."
"A few months in I was asked to shadow a fugitive hiding out in Quebec. I knew the story, I thought. Hunter Eaton's wayward heir and his deadly lover whom the Dutchman required for his service. I was told that all I had to do was wait around in Montreal and put a bullet in the man's head if his boyfriend disobeyed, and I thought my luck had finally turned up again. What an easy gig. I was so far removed from the troubles and dangers of London, from having to face betraying Aleksei. I was told to break into Kurt Gabler's flat and pilfer something of personal value—a distinct article of clothing or a trinket or something to show the man we meant business. I slipped in while they were out and found a rather sentimental photograph that'd do nicely. But it was the moment I laid eyes on it that I realized Emery Eaton was in fact Emery Fletcher…the boy who was once my very best friend…and everything was positively shot to hell."
Georgie looked down, eyes lidded by long black lashes. "I'm not proud of who I am. Of the things that I've done. I realize it isn't very comforting to think that if you'd been anyone else I might have killed you, but it made me see what I'd become. In that picture you were happy. I was going to take your happiness. I was going to ruin the life of someone who'd only ever shown me kindness when I needed it most. That's how far I had fallen. …So I ran. As soon as Keller and his men left the country, I abandoned Emery Fletcher to freedom and I fled back to Aleksei, who took me in again…It was a pitifully stupid move. I simply didn't know where else to go."
Victor stared at her contemplatively. "The reason you couldn't nab Malcom wasn't because he recognized you as one of Ludkov's. It was because he would've recognized you as an ex coworker."
Georgie affirmed this with silence.
"And those guys who've been trying to kill you…"
"Are the Dutchman's clean-up crew," Georgie nodded. "Believe me, I never expected to see Emery walk into Ludkov's den, bold as brass…But when I did I knew I had to fix it. To make it right."
"Georgie," Emery breathed, coming closer. "Why didn't you just tell me all of this to begin with?"
"I knew you as a sweet-tempered boy, Emery, but I didn't know who you were as a man. You appeared to have pre-established ties with Aleksei, and if he found out about my connections with the Dutchman, our rapport be damned, he would kill me on the spot. I kept quiet to save my own skin. It isn't noble, but there it is."
"And you just had to get involved," Kurt spoke gravely, drawing all heads. "This is entirely your doing, then. I had everything under control. I did my part. I obeyed my orders. I was keeping Emery alive, keeping him out of this, and now you've gone and thrust him right into the heart of danger."
"Keeping him alive?" Georgie looked up at him unwaveringly. "You're truly fooling yourself going on that man's word, Gabler. The order to kill him came in the day you left."
Kurt straightened up, features fixed in some unreadable expression.
Georgie sank back down, gripping her wounded arm. "The Dutchman does not tolerate liabilities. The only reason Emery is alive is because I told my superiors that he wasn't. But it would appear they know now that I lied."
There was a long silence between the four of them as Emery tried to take all of this in. He was still hurt by the dishonest nature of her presence with them, but his heart went out to her, and there was no denying that she'd saved his life on multiple occasions. He certainly wouldn't have gotten to this point without her. Emery gazed at Kurt for a while before turning back to her. "What now, Georgie?"
Georgie frowned. "That's up to you, Emery. You have every ounce of the power in this situation and I can't say that I'd blame you for retaliation. Out me to Ludkov and I'm done for. My life is in your hands."
"As mine was once in yours," Emery said quietly.
Georgie nodded, looking very tired. "If it means anything to you, I am dreadfully sorry."
"It doesn't," Kurt answered, turning off. He exited the room and Emery and Victor exchanged looks.
Victor came over to him and gestured subtly after Kurt, lowering his voice. "Is he gonna be okay?"
Emery shook his head. "It's a lot to process. For all of us. But Kurt's in a state of shock. He needs time to readjust."
"Yeah, well he's scaring the shit out of me. When he comes unhinged, he comes unhinged."
Emery rubbed the back of his neck. Admittedly he'd never seen this version of his partner before. "He's just overwhelmed."
Victor gave a glance to Georgie and blew out a harsh breath. "What the hell do we do about her, man?"
Emery looked over at her and bit his lip. "Nothing to do about her now. She says she's been trying to help us, and she has, hasn't she? If she was supposed to kill me she's had every opportunity to do so."
"I guess, but can we really trust her after all of this?"
"I don't know." He continued to stare at her. "But…I think so. We go a long way back, after all."
"That is some soap opera worthy bullshit right there," Victor remarked, wiping a hand over his face. "I mean what are the odds?"
Emery shrugged. "Will you see to her? She's bleeding badly."
Victor nodded. "Yeah. I got it."
Emery left him behind as he followed Kurt out into the living room to find him pacing about again. "Kurt," he tried.
Kurt stopped and faced him.
Emery rubbed at his hurting shoulder a bit and walked over. "Calm down, alright? I know you're overwrought, but please speak to me."
Kurt shook his head emphatically and kept pacing. "We need to be rid of her."
"We can't do that. She's not our enemy."
"She works for him," Kurt replied shortly.
"I think the fact that I'm still breathing means she's fired."
Kurt stared at him before continuing his stride. "Perhaps that's true. Perhaps he meant to kill you all along. In which case I didn't do a damned thing to keep you safe. It was all for nothing."
"You did what you had to. You took the only option given to you. I understand, Kurt."
"I left you to the bloody wolves and…" Kurt rubbed his face, then turned and kicked the nearby coffee table hard, which flipped over. "Scheisse! Ich werde ihn töten!"
Emery skirted back slightly, unsure of what to say. Anger was warranted he supposed. It wasn't Kurt's fault that his outbursts were exactly as frightening as they were rare.
Kurt mu
st have caught the apprehension on his face because he immediately stopped pacing. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
The words sounded like Kurt's, but his tone was still strained and brusque. Emery regarded him carefully. Kurt wouldn't hurt him, he knew that, but he didn't want to make whatever this was any worse. "I don't care. Snap at me if you like. Say anything at all. I'm just so happy that you're alive."
Kurt's features shifted to guilt.
Emery held up a hand. "I can't imagine what you must have been through. You don't owe me any apologies. Just tell me what I can do to help."
Kurt stood there for a moment, tense and opening his mouth hesitantly before recomposing. "I need a moment alone. To think."
Emery's heart sank a bit as he felt Kurt's shaky, restless aura permeating the room around them. All he wanted to do was embrace him again, to cling to him and never let go, to pour everything out that had been bottled up tightly enough to shatter him for the past month and a half, but Kurt was beyond rattled and couldn't seem to sit still or commit to an emotional state. He'd have to be let alone. Emery backed down, nodding obediently and watching as Kurt put a hand to his head and wandered out of the room.
* * *
Georgie was a tough little bitch, Victor observed as he carefully stitched her shoulder. Most people would at least voice some discomfort in this situation, but she held back any complaint, leaning her other elbow on the table with her head resting on the hand. She didn't attempt conversation and Victor could imagine why. Still, being this physically close to someone and not talking was awkward as fuck. He couldn't help himself. "So, you're the only person I've ever seen Kurt shoot who lived to talk about it."
"You'll excuse me if I withhold predictions on my longevity."
Yikes. Victor cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Em's not gonna out you. And I know he won't let Kurt, either."
Her eyes slowly moved to his. "And you?"
"I got nothin' to gain from turning you in."
She looked down for a moment before watching his fingers at her shoulder. "So you were right about me. I'm shocked I haven't heard any gloating yet."
"Yet," Victor echoed, wiping away some blood.
"I know I owe you an apology as well."
Victor didn't say anything for a long while as he kept at it. He didn't really know where he was supposed to stand with her, but he knew that they all had to keep it together for now. "Look, I know what it's like to make the wrong choice. To want to make up for it in any way you can because you know you can't make it up in any way that counts. Let's just leave it at that."
Georgie studied him for a moment. "I didn't like you at first."
Victor gave her a look.
"And while I'm aware the feeling was mutual…I simply meant that you put on a very good front, Victor. You and Emery both."
Victor broke the thread off with his teeth. "What front is that?"
"The front of a hero masquerading as a villain."
Victor met her eyes briefly before taking up a few antiseptic wipes and cleaning the wound. "Jesus, lady. If we're heroes, I'd hate to fucking see what you consider a villain."
Georgie's expression turned serious. "The Dutchman—Thompson, whatever he's to be called—is a villain. Make no mistake."
"And we just royally pissed him off, right?"
Georgie thought for a moment. "It's bad. There were witnesses to our getaway, so by now I'm sure he knows that Emery is alive, that Gabler is missing from his cage, and that I'm involved. Worse still he could trace it back to Ludkov. It may not matter if the three of you decide to keep my secret."
Victor considered that as he used some bandages to begin wrapping up her arm. "I'm glad Kurt's alive. But that only solves half our problem. Em is still indentured to Ludkov and Kurt just shafted the city's most resourceful drug lord. Those two are dead any way you slice it, and so am I by association. So I guess I'll see you in hell, Faraday. Save me a seat."
"Thank you. For the patch job." Georgie looked down at her arm and drew it away from his grasp.
Victor nodded. "How's your side?"
"No worse. Your leg?"
"Still cut."
She stood up and he followed suit. "I suppose I'm grounded as of now, aren't I?"
"For your own good, you should definitely stay off of Kurt's radar. You need to eat something for that blood loss, though. I'll uh…bring you some of those weird British graham crackers or whatever."
Georgie smiled thinly. "Digestives."
"Yeah, those. Just stay in your room for now."
She stared at him contemplatively for a moment before leaning a hand back onto the table. "I know nothing about your past experiences, but this man that we're dealing with…you've never seen anything like him. He's evil. Any way you define that word, he owns it. You think Aleksei Ludkov is a frightening character only because you haven't seen worse, but you're about to. Much, much worse."
Victor blinked back at her. "Okay. Thanks for the…pep talk?"
She shook her head. "I'm telling you that because with Gabler's internal knowledge we might have a small chance at taking him down, and I highly recommend that we do. Not just for our own sakes."
That one he didn't see coming. Victor stepped back and set a hand on his hip. "Taking him down? Kurt wasn't exactly generous with details, but it sounds like this guy has an army on his side."
"We could enlist help."
"Help."
"Yes. Aleksei would probably be cooperative if—"
"Whoah whoah whoah, cool your shit," Victor interrupted. "We're looking for a way out of this, not a way to get further fucking tangled up."
"The only way out is through. Do you really think there's a way to extricate yourselves and leave the big dogs to have it out without you?"
"I don't know, but it's worth a shot," Victor scraped his supplies together and started packing them up. "You might think we're heroes, Georgie, but we're not. We're just three regular fucks trying to save each-other's skins because of old debts. We can't be asked to be responsible for all of London."
"Then who can?"
"I don't know. Try a native. Try Scotland Yard. Try Queen Elizabeth—I don't fucking know."
"Try Aaron Hennessey," she replied. "Because he's currently the only thing standing between London and the Dutchman, and we just disarmed him."
Well, that was probably true. They did kind of screw the pooch on that one. Even if it was mostly Ludkov's fault. Victor waved a frustrated hand. "I can't take this shitshow at more than one step at a time. And I'm the wrong person to be talking to anyway. Just go get some rest."
Georgie looked at him for a long, silent moment before giving an unenthusiastic nod and wandering off towards her room.
* * *
Victor didn't realize he'd nodded off until it suddenly occurred to him that it was dark. He was sitting in a chair in the living room with the television on low. Kurt was in the kitchen at the table, cleaning his gun. Old habits. Victor decided to avoid him, still haunted by memories of the man blowing brains out left and right of his last crew. He stood up and stretched before heading to the bathroom. When he exited he looked down at his phone and saw just how late it was. Fuck, he'd been asleep for nearly four hours. Georgie's door remained shut and it looked as though she was taking his advice. He turned to look at the other bedroom when he heard noises from within. The door was open and Emery was lying on his stomach, but groaning, panting, looking like he was having another one of his episodes. Victor bit his inner cheek and thought about what to do. The last time he'd had one of these it was out of control, but fuck if Victor knew what to do about it. Trying to wake him up last time had been a nightmare in and of itself.
A presence was beside him and he nearly jumped out of his goddamn skin when Kurt's hand touched his shoulder as he eased past. He leaned back, hand on his pounding heart as Kurt went into the room. Victor stepped away, but hung around curiously to watch. Kurt knelt by Emery's side, reaching out a hand to touch his head as he l
eaned in and began whispering in what sounded like German. That was weird. Since when did Kurt know German? Or Emery, for that matter? They'd spent the last two years in French Canada as far as Victor knew. Nevertheless Emery was quickly quieting down. Kurt bowed his head down against Emery's as he stroked his hair and suddenly there was nothing scary about the guy at all. Victor backed away, feeling intrusive, and stood staring at the walls for a while.
A minute later Kurt reemerged and Victor looked at him squarely. "Is he okay?"
Kurt nodded.
"Good. The shit that guy gets up to in his sleep must be pretty intense. Is he always like this?"
Kurt glanced back into the room before nodding again. "He's prone to night terrors. Always has been as far as I know it. …He's been having them recently, I take it?"
"Yeah. Sleepwalking, too."
This didn't seem to surprise Kurt, who was silent for a long moment. Then he met Victor's eyes. "Thank you for looking after him."
Victor shook his head. "He and I are even. This whole thing's been a never-ending back-and-forth of pulling each other's asses out of fires."
Kurt gestured to the kitchen with a head toss and Victor obligingly followed him there. They sat down at the table as Kurt cleared the pieces of his gun away. Victor brought him a beer and pushed it over. Kurt tried to refuse, but Victor gave him an insistent look and he pulled it towards himself. Then Victor sat and they stared at one another awkwardly.
"So," Victor said. "How've you…been?"
Kurt clearly found that question too complicated, or maybe too stupid, to answer.
Victor took a long drink. "Are you cool, man? I mean I get that this whole thing's put everyone on edge, but…are you…you know…sane?"