#ive been so busy with the triduum the past few days...the vigil was 7 hours long...its so fulfilling but sooo tiring

[whumpacabra]

Halfway

Past trauma, headache, referenced medical treatment, implied past illness and injury, antibiotics mention, neonazi mention

[Directly follows The South]

Easton Howard. That was his name now. It didn’t sit well on his tongue, foreign in his mouth, but that was his name now. Jackson had an awkward smile as he handed over the fresh ID card.

“I’m terrible with names - we can change it later when you’re ready.”

(The Wolf wasn’t sure he would ever be ready. If he would (could?) ever unbury that box of secrets in his skull.)

That had been this morning, as they left the clinic. Dr. Ashford explained things about his injuries he already understood. (It helped that he had been sick long enough for the worst of it to heal.) But he promised her he would keep taking his antibiotics until they were gone.

Jackson’s explanation of his situation was…wanting, but East (the two syllables of Easton didn’t sit right in his mind) wasn’t going to complain. He was healed. He was healthy as he could be. His handler was dead. He didn’t really care what happened next - nothing and no one could be as awful as Smith, and he was gone.

(No one else could break him again, because he was already broken. How Smith loved to laud that over him, that no matter what it was he who had broken the Wolf - )

“I trust Nate with my life, Easton. I want you to trust him too. He won’t let anything happen to you.” Nathan. Right. Jackson’s contact at this…place he was taking East. Something about ex-felons and employment. East was far worse than any of them, but they wouldn’t know that.

“Yessir.”

“Hm, about - did you read the file I faxed over to Nate?”

“My name is Easton Howard. I’ve recently been released from Blackwater County prison. Five years ago I committed assault and burglary. I’m out on parole on account of good behavior. The Holloway House will give me an opportunity to find employment and become a contributing member of society.” East memorized the file before the car ride began. He was so happy to have a script to follow. At least when he was the Wolf for the volunteers, he could pretend he wasn’t hurt or afraid. (He could turn his resentment on the innocent, the weak, the powerless - for once he was the one in control.) “Don’t worry, sir. I’m a good actor.”

“Huh. If you say so.” Jackson looked at East out of the corner of his eye, clearly unconvinced. Somehow, it didn’t look like failure to East, and he was able to crack a smile and relax his brow. He was a good victim, a good monster, and now he had to play the part of a good civilian.

How hard could it be?

—

Hard. It was very hard. He didn’t realize how distressed he was until he was left alone in his room. Introductions had been a blur of nodding, half smiles, and a facade of boredom.

The Wolf - no, no he was East. Don’t break character on set. (He was always on set here.)

East sat with his back to the foot of his bed, staring at the closed door with his knees drawn to his chest. There was a lock on the inside. That was somehow the most unnerving part - that they gave him the illusion of power, of locking someone out instead of him being locked inside.

(Nathan had a set of master keys, for emergencies. The Wolf tried to forget this fact.)

His breathing was shaky as he tried to reign in his thoughts, reviewing the information rattling around his skull.

Nathan was the head ‘supervisor’ in the Holloway House. He was Jackson’s friend. Dark skinned, dark haired, dark eyed - but his presence was undeniably bright.

Nathan had asked East about ‘himself’ and he answered as accurately as possible, both with regard to himself and the man in the file. He didn’t have a gambling or addiction problem. He didn’t smoke, but wouldn’t mind a bit of drink. His employable skills were…lacking, but he was a hard worker.

(He didn’t want to share a room. He didn’t want a shared bathroom. He didn’t like to be touched.)

“It’s a bit unorthodox.” Nathan had said, scratching his bearded chin. “But even though you’re new I think we can squeeze you into one of the singles upstairs.”

The room was tiny - smaller than his room in the bunker. A bed that barely fit his bulky frame, a desk and chair with barely enough room to sit at wedged on the wall opposite the bed. An overhead light and fan. A cramped bathroom - toilet and sink, no shower unfortunately.

(But the Wolf would take whatever scraps he was given and be grateful for them.)

Introductions to the other residents was…fuzzy. Jackson had left at that point, reassuring East that he was in good hands, and as much as he wanted to believe Jackson, his brain could not shut off its hypervigilant paranoia.

Tierney was the youngest - scruffy, 22, and freshly on parole. Drug trafficking charges. Jacob was the oldest - late 60s, weathered by war and time, and evidently uninterested in getting acquainted with East. Nathan had informed him it wasn’t Jacob’s first stint at a halfway house.

There were a smattering of others - Ice had little skin visible beneath a tapestry of tattoos that ran up and down his arms, Mac and Tav had run in the same gang, and Alister…

Alister kept quiet, to the back of the group. Expression open but not smiling. Words gentle but unfriendly. He was tolerating East, or in the best case scenario, humoring him, testing the waters. It was a half whisper from Ice that made East’s blood run cold and stomach sour. Something about Alister being a skinhead prick.

And for some reason that vague knowledge had him mutter halfheartedly about a headache and needing some sleep. (He needed some time alone.) Nathan seemed disappointed for a split second but understanding as he herded East upstairs to his room.

There were only three private rooms in the house - his own, Nathan’s, and Alister’s. East pressed his still tender back against the cool wood of the bedpost, trying to ground himself. He focused on the soft patter of snow outside, January chill letting the flakes fall heavy.

Jackson couldn’t come back soon enough.

[Before Façade]

(Part of my Freelancers: Changing Tides series)

Taglist: @stargeode @sacredwrath