Off to the races
Chapter 8: He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me
It was claustrophobic, even the air did not know how to dispense of his sighs and smoke.
master list
price x oc, series.
a03: pricescigar, Off to the races is posted in full.
taglist: @deadbranch , @jxvipike, @smoggyfogbottom
warnings: distress?? toxic conversation?
a/n: their relationship gives me bloody whiplash.
Heavy limbs drowned in the stupor of an alcohol-induced sleep and the stress of the situation. Amalgamating into something rather inescapable, sinking further and further into the bowels of the sofa, she surfed the waves of unconsciousness, tumbling about the drowsing deep. She’d surpassed the morning stir, the heavy footing of polished boots on lanolin floors, the clanking of utensils and the bubbling rumble of the kettle. Life moved on around her, left to sail out into her dreamscapes unperturbed, the hours snuck by and soon morning turned to afternoon, but she remained unaware.
Long arms bare, the hairs raising to attention with his focus. Stained ceramic clutched carefully between calloused fingers, steam wafting from the cup with each measured huff of air that left his person, almost blowing the aroma over to the snoring stowaway as he loomed about the rec room. Circling the permitter armed with the cup, already disappointed that his pointed rustling hadn’t woken the girl. He’d clanged dirty washing about the sink and boiled the kettle about three times for one cup of bloody coffee. She remained. The Captain ruminated on the fact. She remained. Asleep until one in the afternoon, she remained. Here for nearly a month, she remained. Polluting his agendas, she remained. Poisoning his judgements.
She remained tucked under his jumper, head atop the arm of the couch. Drool, previously dribbled onto the chest of said jumper, now smudged into the already damaged soft furnishing. By a miracle or the infringing temptations brought wordlessly with the scent of coffee, she stirred. Cream diluting the inky black, clutching onto the fabric that blanketed her torso, elongated yawn that slowly tore into a croaking groan.
“Was starting to think the curry killed you off there, love.”
She stirred more, leaning up toward the sound of him stalking over, already teasing despite her barely becoming acquainted with consciousness. Adjusting to the room, hands nestled deeper into their grip of the jumper, tugging it closer to her body as she sat upright and watched as Price placed a cup of coffee beside her, the tan liquid shined up at her.
“It was a…” She took the time to clutch at the warm cup, both hands bringing it to herself for a grateful sip “a challenge” film-coated vocals, still barely just in the realms of reality.
A gruff chuckle left him as he sat across from her, taking up the other side of the sofa. It was strangely disarming watching Lilith within the first throws of her morning, nothing like the wounded creature in the hospital. Some aspects remained, her eyes flitted about with a sense of caution, her body naturally wanted to curl up, pushing herself into the corner of the sofa instinctively, nestling under the cover of the jumper. She was careful, tricky despite having been catered to, service beyond what most 'captives' would get, a warm coffee and a smile.
Christ. He’d forgotten the smile.
“I’m glad you slept well.” He took the opportunity to mention at the dried drool on her visage, raising a digit to his cheek and tapping with a smug look, watching her stall momentarily before catching on and wiping away at her face with an awkward roll of her eyes.
“I blame it on you, you gave me beer” Lilith huffed, obstinate and slightly embarrassed. She felt less and less like herself, unaccustomed to falling asleep on strangers’ shared sofas and staying in slumber for long past reasonable hours. Having no real direction, no control. Being overly grateful for a beer, or a coffee, at least she wasn’t scrambled enough to be avidly praising the Captain for his subtle acts of charity that came in the form of beverages.
“A sip, Lilith, I expected you to take a sip or two, not down the whole chuffin’ pint.”
“But-“
“Nope, I won’t hear it, especially after you succeeded in commandeering another two after the first.”
Maybe charity was the wrong sentiment.
She snorted at his pointed disbelief, simpering humorously behind the cup as she raised it to drink more. He’d just shake his head, hand pressing into the scruff of his beard, smothering down a smile that tickled his lips.
“And now you’ve drunk my coffee” Unable to help himself, he chastised her once more, enjoying the flare of her features as he so clearly perplexed her.
“You put it next to me!”
“And so you just took it? Bad manners lil’ miss.”
She glowered at him, thrusting out the half-empty cup with a sarcastic smile “It was bad coffee anyhow.”
He scoffed at this, raising a brow as he leant back further into the cushions, shrugging at the offering of his ‘bad’ coffee. Lily retracted the cup and haphazardly down the rest, taking loud, pained gasps between each hot gulp before she unceremoniously slapped the cup back down onto the table.
“You’re too stubborn for your own good.”
The residual pain of the scalding liquid throbbed lightly around her mouth, his opinion only another hot gulp to swallow. “Is this like the prisoner experience here? Do I get awoken by you every day or is this a punishment of some sort, thought we moved past the torture and interrogate Lily stage.” She sassed.
Now, it was John's turn to roll his eyes. “I’m so deliriously happy you feel my presence is akin to torture.”
“Oh, so this is a strange, torturous alarm system! Do I get requests? Tomorrow I should like to be risen by a rendition of baby got back.” Lily continued to rebuke the Captain, absentmindedly threading her arms through the jumper as she did so, tugging it over her frame and crossing her arms over as she stood up from the sofa, ready to take in his reaction, finding the aggravation she’d carried with her during this month to slowly beginning to mount itself back onto her shoulders.
“I’d actually come to check on sleeping beauty and see if she’d be ready to have a little chat about your previous requests… cigarettes, your things in general, but yanno’ if you want me to sing baby got back instead that’s fine too.”
She stilled, he smirked.
“Can I have all three?”
“Nope. Go freshen up Lilith, I’ll be in my office.”
Minty, rough bristles scraped against her teeth as she furiously scrubbed at their surface, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she listened to Gaz chat over the sound of the running water.
“You should come to early morning training, it’s just exercise, might give you some routine.” Kyle spoke between swift swipes of his razor, carefully dragging the blade down his chin as they talked to one another’s reflection in the mirror.
“Price wants to chat about things, reckon you’ll be dragging my dead body out of here before I’d have a chance at morning training” She huffed angrily, toothpaste foaming at the mouth as she said so. The shared bathroom was less of an intrusion upon her privacy and more of an assault on the senses, the lingering potency of four grown men definitely elicited a less than overjoyed reaction from the woman, now desperate to add air freshener to her list of demands. The violent scrubbing of her teeth only helped to cover the smell temporarily, washing out her mouth and splashing some cold water on her face soon after. Kyle soon followed, somehow creating tidal waves with the amount of water he required to wash the shaving foam from his features, great expanses of liquid spilling over from the elongated sink and splashing onto the floor.
“You’ll be fine.” He shrugged her off, used to hearing dramatics from Soap, this routine of pre-Price nerves wasn’t anything new. He shot a quick glance in her direction, something brewing in his look, a slither of worry even, as he cautiously contemplated the news that the team received this morning. Soon blinking the feeling away before he dabbed his face on a towel. “Fancy coming with me to butter up the hot nurse in medical? I’ll carry you in all heroic n’ that, say you fainted or some shit and wham bam thank you mam’ I’ll be in”
“You really think anyone’s gonna fall for that ugly mug?” She scooped up a handful of water and hurled it toward Gaz, letting out a loud laugh as he veered away from the assault, nearly slipping in his own puddles as he yelled out in struggle. “You fucking twat!” He scorned, grasping onto the side of the long sink as he took in his soaked shirt.
“Ah, ah! No, you can’t do it back” She warned, chortling evilly as he slammed the tap back on, ready for revenge. “Or I won’t help you with hot nurse, whose name by the way, is Ella.” She spoke pointedly as she took her leave of the putrid gas chamber that happened to house some bathroom facilities.
“I knew that!” Gaz yelled out after her.
The atmosphere that carried from the shared bathroom and the dorms seemed to die at the Captain’s door. Starkly different in colour, the dark cherry wood distinct in consuming the light around it, eating from the spirit of the shared spaces. Hesitant hand hovered, her digits so cold that the metal of the door handle felt familiar, an extension of self. She’d only just grasped it, delicate touch barely wrapped around its length when-
“Lilith, come in.”
Through the door, a loud rasping timbre, she’d been transported back to her early days in college, standing outside the headmaster's door, shuffling feet and nervous hands. Only, this was Captain Price. He’d sensed her lingering long before, awaited her arrival.
The mood from this morning was scarcely traceable, she struggled to push open the heavy door, its weight certain in trying to keep her out, gatekeeper swinging mightily at the crowd. She was never one to settle, dark wood gave way but swung shut so quickly behind her that the woman barely had time to remove her fingers from its grip, cursing softly as the edge caught her skin. Her discomfort mixed headily with the thick smoke in the air, it hung lowly within the room, catching the afternoon rays as they mingled with the sooty particles.
“Did it bite you?” Barely acknowledged by the Captain, his eyes cast downward toward a landscape of papers, rivers of files and mountains of cases. She held the offending digit, a small red slit pulsing. Something she’d ignore usually yet the weight of the room wrangled it open, prying the skin apart, smoke and tension settling where the blood should clot.
“Sit, Lilith.” Finally, the great expanse of his eyes, a momentarily flicker to her figure then back down at the map of work. She moved forward, felt like running in a dream, a desperate flinging of limbs to find she’d barely taken a step, everything felt slow, the smoke was near to choking as she propelled herself into the seat awaiting her. Her hands found themselves grasping onto the jumper, wrenching the fabric and clutching desperately, hoping to squeeze some semblance of clarity from the threads, a touch of clean air it’d soaked from the rec, anything. She fretted, he worked.
“Let me see then.” Another demand pulsed through with an exhale of smoke, rich and woody. She sat dumbfounded, hazy with the second-hand fog, not totally convinced she wasn’t still asleep. Maybe, she’d wake soon and find herself still on the couch. Parted mouth, she took her time licking her lips, tasting the mint of her toothpaste, actualising her existence.
“Your hand, Lilith.” It darted out, readily presented to him, things felt strangely out of touch here. A resounding sense of fantasy, the smokey planes of hell, sharp-toothed drawbridge and his majesty himself. Gently, he took hold, large hand encircled her wrist, drawing her closer, surveying the damage she’d taken tumbling down to his stratum. A scratch. With his searing heat, an unsurvivable wound.
“I’m alright.” Finally, she gasped out, the hazy laddered sun now strung across her features, dancing through the blinds and the smoke to illuminate the concern in her eyes. He huffed, thumb moving to her pulse, happily letting the vein push against his cracked skin, the feeling of it thrumming somewhat comforting. With his measured hold, she’d managed to avert her eyes and let them take in the room around them. At first, it seemed like John had tried to shove his life into this small office, crammed full of wooden trinkets, books and files. Little space was available, everything loomed inward, aching with the weight of his world. It was claustrophobic, even the air did not know how to dispense of his sighs and smoke.
“The reason-“ His voice startled her, base trembling through the flitter of her asphyxiating thoughts. Price paused, earnestly he watched her, the pad of his thumb now carefully brushing against her skin in circles, half expecting to feel the welts of handcuffs, momentarily happy to find the sensation missing. “-we need to talk, is because the situation has escalated somewhat.”
Lily nodded, gaze returning to find him, squinting as the sun shone right into her eyes, shifting nervously in the seat as she tried to adjust, leaning forward toward the desk to evade its scorning gleam. “I want to speak to my family.” Her lungs adjusted to the fumes, eyes evaded the light, heart had steadied, hand wretched from his observing embrace. Now, clearer. The room caved toward Captain Price, not her. She was a visitor here, Lilith would not let herself stay long, she had an overwrought feeling that if she did, the walls would start to reach for her too.
“You will, soon.” Careful, calculating, he sits back.
“No, Price, your situation has escalated, mine remains the same, I want to speak to my family.” She persists, the familiarity of herself seeping back to her, fortifying in her bones with a cooling chill that felt like power.
He exhales, fingers drummed along the hardwood in a solemn tune. “Negative, your situation is mine, and it seems, ours is now complicated.” With a kiss of his stained teeth, the Captain put down his cigar, arms crossed over one another as he leant forward to emphasise himself.
“Known targets of ours have come to the understanding that you are of some importance, an unfortunate conclusion drawn from skewed intel and fleeting perspective.” The blue has drained from his eyes, darkened pits of smoking coal swallowing the ocean that once was. “They see a blood-covered woman fleeing a brawl with our team, and think, other operatives are on the scene.” Dancing around the detail, twirling her to the point, entangled with the team on a mission they’d thought was finished long ago. “It’s messy.”
“I’m not a part of this.” Lilith pleaded, grasping the desk with both hands and surging herself forward with a sneer.
“You are now sweetheart.” Unflinching, coal captured the sparks of fury in her glare. “Want you to write a list of what you need to be comfortable.”
“Want you to listen to me.” Her voice lowers to match the tone he gives her, mocking him with a sharp laugh, grip so hard her knuckles start to pale.
“I have.”
“Listen again then, Captain, I’m not part of this.” Spat with venom, the honorific clawed up from the bowels of her rage, erupting with menace. It drove him to stand, fist slammed to the table, three long strides and he was so close that whatever air she’d reconciled for herself had been sucked into his damned inferno. “No Lilith, you have no real idea, the danger you’ve caused for yourself, is insurmountable. You want your family? Huh? Sure, should we go see mum and dad in the safe house, lead everyone to em’, shake things up?” It's inescapable, the heat that radiates from him, Icarus had flown too far and she could feel the wax melting her in place, seeping into her pores, cementing her to him.
“Safe house?” She’s barely audible, quivering in his flaming shadow.
“I know this isn’t your fault.” A whisper of a breeze, something cooler, it coaxes her closer, the potential of reprieve. And yet, he answers nothing. Smoke and mirrors. “They’re in danger?” Searching eyes claw up at him, furrowed brow digging deeper toward her core, trying to emulate her frustration. He shakes his head lightly, hand slowly raising to settle on her shoulder, an attempt at grounding, it seared against her.
“Not if we’re clever about this. Bad people think you know things, got intel, that they want. Seen you shoutin’ bloody murder and fighting your way past Ghost and got things wrong, like we did.”
Her stunned silence makes things worse, he prefers when she’s alive and kicking, harking back at him with vigour. It made his emotions easier to understand, the irritation and general indignation seemed like something palatable compared to the deep-seated guilt she could stir up in him. “The people who tried to kill Ghost, saw me running and thought I did it?” Lilith’s question was more pointed than he’d expected, the catch she’d dug out quite quickly elicited another deep sigh from the man.
“No, another group.” Pinched, unwilling to divulge much more. She had already stumbled into a mess and the Captain was desperately trying to sift her out of this pile, letting the rot fall away, hoping to keep her alive and well on top. “Who?”
John screwed his eyes shut, unwilling to peer down at her as she tried to piece things together. He’d do better stepping back, lighting another cigar, let the smoke obscure her from him. Lilith took the opportunity, sensing the small waver in his stoic nature, striking. Her hand chased up his outstretched arm, resting atop his own, squeezing lightly as she took his hand within her own, pressing a small kiss to his palm. It was brazen, demoralised in the sanctum of his keep, disillusioned by the small kindness he’d shown her previously despite the brawling words often pitted between them.
“Lilith-“ A dark warning, something worse than anger resonated from him, sticky tar-covered timbre lacquered her name like it was going to escape him forever, now forcibly stuck to his tongue he chewed out the syllables as it pained him, Lilith fixed to his teeth and pulled at his cavities, it was far worse than anger as it was anguish that adhered to it like death.
Heated bumps fevered her arms, prickling at her skin as he uttered her name, she continued to push despite his scorch. “You can’t say I’m trapped in this and still keep me in the dark.” Pleading whispers, she continued to squeeze his hand, tentatively pressing a kiss to each knuckle, dry skin scratching against the soft plump of her lips.
“Please, John.”
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