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privateanxieties · 1 year ago

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Taglist bc I forgot to add it last night: @itwasthereaminuteago @hellskitchenswhore @trashyart-y @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @marieloves-reading @daisyslibrary @trashcan-writes @mind-nine @reblogmisc3 @hufflepufe @this-is-where-i-keep-my-fic @mccuppie-cake @bookloverfilmoholic @iheartjoel @tortilla-maria1 @aestheticallywinchester @todobird1214 @heimtathurs @mattmurdocksstarlight @maddyosblog @lysenfeu-fics

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 6)

Summary: David has a conversation with you that Frank most definitely did not approve of. But, what Frank doesn't know won't hurt him. Right?

Words: 2.3K

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David needs to tread carefully. The last time he did something like this was when he talked to Madani behind Frank's back, and Castle let him know what he thought of him in no uncertain terms. It nearly ended their friendship. A repeat experience might actually entice Frank to drive back to New York just to communicate his feelings about this second subtle betrayal.

Okay— so maybe he's being a snake in the grass. But if being a snake means he gets to avoid Frank walking into a silent trap and prevent her from getting herself killed, then David will slither right along with a clean conscience. It doesn't mean he won't be a little nervous when he has to break the news to his friend, but he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

In the meantime, he repeats the information he wants to relay in his head as the phone rings, much like he would for a doctor's appointment.

After the fifth ring, a whooshing crackle floods the speakers, and a quick glance at his third monitor reveals the phone is still on the ground. He's getting clear blue skies and tree branches through the frontal camera he surreptitiously activated.

"Hello?" he says, and if his voice wobbles just a bit, he chalks it up to not having done this in a while. Truth be told, he was almost as nervous to do it to Frank for the first time, back when he was trying to get them to team up. He suspects nothing of the sort will be happening here.

"Hellooo? Are y—"

"Let me see you or I hang up."

He freezes at the sudden command. Shit. No. No, absolutely not. He's not turning on the camera. Play dumb.

"This isn't that kind of call—"

"You have ten seconds."

Fuck.

"How did you—"

"I changed my mind. Five seconds."

Fuck! Jesus Christ, Sarah was going to murder him herself. Time runs out and he resigns himself to his fate, granting permission to his video feed at the last second and instantly cringing at the mustard-stained shirt staring back at him in high definition. For a while, things are silent. Then, a full-blown sigh is released through the speakers as the woman comes into view, having finally picked up the phone. She looks a little worse for wear with the sun beating down upon her, but David can't make out too much detail in her face. It's a poor connection on her end and a shitty camera, mostly because the phone was built for durability more than anything else.

Silence ensues again as they stare each other down for a few long moments. David blinks first.

"Are you going to say anything? Because—" he begins, but is interrupted yet again.

"Are you his sidekick? You look like a sidekick. The nerdy type, obviously," the woman says. David takes immediate offense, yet he finds that in this instance, he kind of fits the role she assumes of him. He's got monitors for days both in front and behind him, and the newly acquired pair of glasses he hasn't gotten used to rests uncomfortably on the bridge of his nose. He has to admit he looks the picture. Still, he protests.

"Frank doesn't do sidekicks. And anyway, I'm more of a guidance system. He'd be lost without me. So, not a sidekick," he chides. Even with the shitty connection he can tell she isn't impressed.

"Yeah…" she says, sounding pretty bored to David's ears. "…To be honest with you, I don't care. I want you both to leave me the hell alone. Figure you can use your guidance system to get lost?"

David resists the urge to roll his eyes, though a snort does escape him.

"Trust me, this wasn't my idea. I think you might want to listen though, before you make any more wise choices, yeah? Because right now, I'm your only chance of avoiding a bullet," he warns.

"Is your friend looking to return the favor?" she asks. David balks at the misunderstanding.

"What? No! Not from Frank. You know, I don't think you've realized yet that he's actually trying to help you. I mean, okay— He's not the most friendly-looking guy, but he means well. And I don't think he blames you for shooting him, if you were worried about that."

"I wasn't." She moves some hair away from her face, seeming to gaze at something in the distance. "As for helping me, nobody asked him to. If he gets involved again—"

David takes the chance to interrupt her this time.

"Did you kill Collins?"

An amused smile subtly lights up her face.

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Come on, we both know what I'm talking about."

"You expect me to admit to murder over FaceTime?"

"You think I'm recording this?"

"No, no. I trust you, stranger who knows my name and location."

David's eyes roll back until they hurt. And he thought talking to Frank was like herding cats. He decides he's fine with being accused of having no patience; he has to break through her unbothered exterior somehow, and letting her know the depth of the pile of shit she's in might be a good start.

"There's an APB out for your arrest in Apolline County."

It feels like entire minutes pass as he studies her features, though in reality it can't be more than a few seconds. David thinks he sees a hint of the emotions she ought to be feeling, but they disappear as soon as they come. She reverts to impassivity, but at least now he knows it's a carefully constructed façade. This isn't unlike someone else he knows, and he dreads to think what other points of congruence might be found between them. To his trained eye, she and Frank are pretty similar.

"Hm. Well that's handy. I was just about to turn myself in."

Morbidly similar.

"You're going to the police?!" David sputters, incredulous.

"The police went to my house. I'm just paying it forward," she replies, and it's at this point that David wonders if he shouldn't just let her and Frank figure it out themselves, because this kind of stubbornness will never be reasoned with.

"You're walking into a trap, is what you're doing," he mutters, watching his screen for any pending alerts. He needs a new approach to this entire conversation. He needs to stop wasting time.

"Not anymore, now that you've told me they're looking for me."

David thinks talking to a wall might actually result in a more fruitful exchange. Jesus Christ. He slams a hand down on his desk in frustration.

"No, you don't understand. The arrest isn't based on a warrant. No judge issued one. It means the police are trying to find you without anyone knowing it if they do. That's why they didn't broadcast it beyond county lines. They don't want anyone asking questions. They're luring you and you're giving them exactly what they want."

"And why exactly are they luring me, if you're so knowledgeable?" she drawls, leaning against a tree.

"Personally, I think it might be because you did exactly what Frank warned you not to do," David snarks.

"What's that?" she asks with a sigh.

"Uhh… Starting a war with a drug cartel because you killed their boss' little brother?"

Silence.

Prolonged, extended silence. Laborious. Heavy. Poignant, if David may say so himself.

"He did tell you that, didn't he?"

Extremely poignant, apparently.

In retrospect, you did hear something about a war coming out of Frank's mouth right before you shot him. The information had not been this concise, unfortunately. Perhaps his nerdy friend should've been the one relaying all the details from the beginning. Perhaps you shouldn't have shot him like a spaz just because he blocked the door , your conscience objects. Eyes rolling back into your skull, you ponder the inconvenience-turned-potential-disaster while the phone waits inside the van, urgency be damned. With your head leaned against the tree bark, you quietly wish for that clarity you had just hours ago to return. Could things be better? Maybe, but that's neither here nor there. Could they be worse? Definitely. Regardless, the future is the only thing you control.

A bird's eye view from an omniscient being would be nice to have. Instead, you're weighed down with hindsight and nothing else, much like the never-ending video loop of past events. You know what happened and in what order, but you can't intervene. The what-ifs begging to be factored into your reasoning are harshly buried. You've been down this road before, and those questions only serve as a distraction. You're not very interested in avoiding reality at the moment, particularly when your mouth is parched and you're showering in your own sweat under the Utah sun.

A few more hours to go until dusk and you're stuck in a random patch of woods, theoretically armed to the teeth but realistically fucked in more than one capacity. Fresh off a murder. An APB for your arrest that only a couple of police stations know about, both under the Sheriff's jurisdiction and command. A home that was broken into by that very Sheriff. Location and name known to a very talkative and weird stranger, who appears to be friends with a not very talkative, even weirder stranger. Micro and Frank , a perfect comedy duo.

So here you are, realizing how complicated the situation is and immediately resentful of the fact that you agreed to work with someone who has clear leverage over you. Around you, the woods are pretty quiet, not that you're very deep inside the tree line. You can still spot the road ahead if you peer around Frank's van, and it's still just as empty as you knew it would be on a Sunday afternoon. The occasional supply truck traveling between towns doesn't really amount to much traffic. There are no birds chirping or leaves rustling, because everything is either dead or dying here. You don't intend to become one with the scenery of godforsaken Utah, so just this once, you ate your pride. It went down worse than a dry-swallowed pill. Well, at least now you know what Sam meant by 'my brother's going to kill you'. Actually, you think he might've said 'fucking kill you'. A small chuckle tickles your parched lips. Sometimes you just have to learn to find these things funny.

Agreeing to follow Micro's instructions is most definitely funny, considering your general inability to do as you're told. The contents of his plan are also hilarious in and of themselves: leave Apolline and never look back, keep the phone with you so he knows when you've left the state entirely, and in exchange he'll pretend he lost your trail when his friend asks about you.

In all honesty, you're not sure what their deal is. Why Frank is eager to get in your way and his friend is willing to lie to ensure that he doesn't is just another one of life's little mysteries. One thing, however, is no mystery: you don't want to cross paths with the man you shot, grudge or no grudge. Leaving suits you just fine from this perspective, but from another, doing as Micro said is completely at odds with your whole life philosophy. You're not looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life, and that's exactly what you would be doing if you cut your losses and left. You could've done that back in the desert, but you didn't. You came back for a reason.

O'Hare was inside your house. It doesn't matter that you were never going to live in it again after what happened. He invaded your space. He was looking for something — apparently, that something was indeed you. An inelegant snort falls from your lips. He wants to arrest you? You can only imagine his line of thought: someone murdered an old woman on your porch, so naturally you're the only suspect. He's probably under pressure from the mayor to find a culprit, what with elections coming up. Nobody's been murdered in Apolline since the late 2000's. You know. You've checked.

So what’s a girl to do in this mess? Could you run and never be found? Probably.

Are you going to?

…

Another chuckle, much fonder this time, really accentuates your thirst. It’s stupid to even pretend you could ever follow along with Micro’s plan, no matter how eager you are to never see his worse half again. You don’t run before business is wrapped up. It’s not something you even know how to do. If you’ve stepped on a little cartel’s tail, you’ll deal with that as it develops. And if the Sheriff is really looking for you due to misguided reasons, well… who are you to deny him discovery?

Pushing away from the tree, you wince as your skin protests from the harsh imprint left by the bark even through clothing. You need to change, a thing you’d be able to do if you’d had the wherewithal to grab your duffel from the car before hijacking Frank’s van last night. Your house is too risky to go back to, but maybe a detour to the bakery wouldn’t hurt. After all, you can’t show up to the police station in your murder outfit, confident as you are that it won’t incriminate you.

Before you do anything at all, though, you need to find a way around the agreement you just entered into. In order to get back into town, you need to lose the phone so Micro can’t track it and figure out your steps. It’s a problem that really gets your gears turning for a few good minutes, until you remember exactly where you are and what time it is. Sunday evening is precisely when two shipping trucks make their way into town with supplies for three different stores, and the road you inelegantly capsized by is the only one into and out of Apolline.

A small smile finally curls the edges of your lips, and the invigorating effect of a good idea isn’t far behind. At the very least, there’s an upside to this whole thing. You really aren’t bored anymore.

-to be continued-

A/N: A very late update because life stuff has been happening quite a lot lately. So, here we are. This really is the last chapter before a whole lot of chaos and before we meet Frank again. Trust me, he's gonna have a lot to say about these two scheming without his knowledge.👀 And he's definitely gonna rip David a new one for getting duped by her hehe. We'll get there, don't worry. I don't want to spoil anything, but I am excited to get to next chapter's events!

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