rebeccasheart-blog

[rebeccasheart-blog]

(   benholmes   )

It’s been difficult being without her for so long. It’s not as though they haven’t spent time apart before, but he has never felt quite as unsure about their relationship as he does now. It had always been certain before that they’d have to keep things a secret, that she was still married and she didn’t have any plans to leave her husband. Now, he was dead and there were big changes going on, and he has no idea what’s going to happen with them now. He’s done his best to remain occupied by work, but she’s still always at the forefront of his mind.

Slipping inside, he did as she requested and shut the door before leaning back against it, hands pushing into his pockets. His eyes scanned up and down her body and a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“So, I had this excuse all planned out in my head to come see you. It was really good too, it was about work and everything.” He teased, smile in place as he looked away before returning his gaze back to her. “But as it is, I’ve just missed you. And wanted to see you.” He shrugged his shoulders. Pretending had never been something he’s good at, nor was lying, so honesty was his best policy here. “That and I wanted to know where you and I stand.” It’s been five months, and while he doesn’t want to rush her grieving process, he just needs some answers.

                       busying herself with her permits, her left brow rises slightly as she tries in vain to not look at him. but every opportunity, she takes   -   and it would not be the first time in the last few months that she’s watched him from the corner of her eye. despite herself, despite trying her damnedest to not react, she feels the corner of her lips pull in to a smile. rebecca cannot help it, even though she tries to suppress it, ben is adorable and a dork but she likes that about him, and her traitorous heart aches. “ work, “ she repeats as she dares to turn her head and properly glance at him, disbelief evident in the glint in her eye as she watches him flounder and fidget. 

                                         god, she missed him too. 

                                                          what had started as a need for space, time to grieve, had turned in to self-punishment and she is happy when she is with him but rebecca wasn’t entirely sure, then, if she was allowed to be happy so soon after her husbands death. despite having long ago fallen out of love with marcus, she still loved him deeply. he was, first and foremost, the father of her children and her first love. but ben... he made her feel something she hadn’t felt for her husband since they were kids. with a sigh, obviously tired beyond belief, rebecca dropped the papers on her desk and moved to it’s side, but no closer. 

                          this conversation, it seems, will consist of him talking, and her repeating everything he says.  “  where we... stand... “  truthfully, she’s surprised he has waited as long as he has. she has given no indication about them to him since marcus’ death and, if it were her, she’d have moved on long ago. but rebecca has issues that ben doesn’t and it softens her when she realises, to him, she’s worth the wait. “ i love you. “ her own eyes widen and her lips part but beyond those three words, she says nothing. that was unintentional. the phrase slipped through her lips and now that she’s said it, she can’t take it back. 

                                                     she doesn’t want too. 

                                                         with a breathless laugh, her own shoulders shrug before her hands start to wring nervously and this is not her, this is not who she is, but ben has always managed to bring something out of her, something soft, and she hates him for that. evidently, not as much as she loves him. so, she commits. “ i love you... that’s where we stand.  “

[rebeccasheart-blog]

benholmes:

It’s been months. Five exactly since  the death of her husband, since the change among their hierarchy due to the death of The Red King. He feels the change in atmosphere among all the Reds, but especially with Rebecca. While initially he had been hesitant about the two of them spending time apart, he can understand why she needed it. There was no way they could have continued their relationship as it was when she was experiencing such a great loss and he knows her instinct was to cut everyone out when she was in a state such as that. So Ben respectfully kept his distance from her, threw himself into his work as a distraction as opposed to worrying about what was going to happen to their faction or rather what was going on with Rebecca. Because while he understands, he also misses her more than anything. 

It’s taken a long time, but the tone of the Reds is starting to change again. They’re starting to regain the strength they had loss and the shuffles of power. His Capo was demoted after it became public knowledge that she had slept with Marcus, a fact Ben doesn’t even know how to react to, but that shift in hierarchy has become something he’s slowly gotten used to. The only thing he hasn’t gotten used to is not being with Rebecca. Even Alice being mad at him after he told her of the affair he had been having was easier to swallow.  But he’s started to figure it’s been a few months and he’s already put off discussing what happens next with their relationship for long enough. So with a deep breath, he knocks on the door to her office before turning the handle and popping just his head through the crack. “Hey.” The half smile that crosses his face at the sight of her comes without his permission. “Can I come in?”

                     she misses him. it was a passing thought, in the beginning. still fresh from her husband’s death, still grieving her niece, her relationship with ben at the time had been simply too much on top of it all. but that was months ago, and while her newly reformed jacks were busying themselves with the police force - a wicked smile curves her lips at the thought, crime in wonderland had never been so high, and there was nothing that bitch morris’ precious sheep could do about it -  she was settled enough now to realise - she missed ben. 

              it was not something she thought about often. she was otherwise focused on rebuilding her empire, returning it to it’s former glory when ruled by her father and though vivianne was still a thorn in her side, they were closer now than they had ever been, even as children. 

                                 rebecca stands in her office, jaw locked aside and brow creased in thought as she narrows her eyes at the forms in her hand. building permits, not that rebecca heart necessarily needed permission for anything. at the knock on her door, rebecca glances up and, softly, beckons it open. she stares at ben as he stands in her doorway, expressionless despite her suddenly racing heart. biting the inside of her cheek, rebecca nods at his request.  “  close the door.  “   she orders, because even if their relationship was not public knowledge, and even if they didn’t need to sneak about anymore, she imagines this is a conversation she’d want to have in private. 

[rebeccasheart-blog]

( -- whitediamond-alice )

The sight of Rebecca caused a surge of surprise to cut through the numbness the copious amounts of alcohol she consumed had left in their wake, and her eyes went wide from the older woman’s presence. The emotion only lasted a moment though, the physical evidence only a flicker on the young blonde’s features as her face quickly hardened and anger coursed through her. She despised Rebecca, hated her even, and it was something that she didn’t see changing anytime soon. Even before the woman had ordered her torture at the hands of Jabba, Alice had never really liked her. She wasn’t family. She was just… there.

As she opened her mouth to say something, another warning to be left alone, the Red Queen strode over and disarmed her – causing a look of disbelief to resurface on her features. “Excuse you. Don’t act like you know me.” She made no moves to lean down and pick up the weapon. There was no need for it. “Can I help you with something? Or do you not have anything better to do than follow people around in dark alleys?”

                        Eyes roll at the tone of Alice’s voice, a grim smirk in place hiding what storms beneath. She’s been a mess of emotions since Marcus’ death, since Bree’s -- she’d spoken to Vivianne, had offered her shoulder but her sister was in a state Rebecca knew well, after Caroline.... Turning her back, something she ordinarily wouldn’t have done were the blonde in a more sober state, she wandered a few steps down the alley with the fingertips of one hand trailing along the wall. “I wasn’t acting, but okay.” The indifference in her voice only cemented her lack of care for the girl behind her but she turned regardless and cocked her head to the side slightly, eyes narrowed and lips pursed.

           “You? Help? Hardly... I didn’t know you’d be here wandering about like the genetic idiot you are. Had I known, -- I’d still have come regardless as I could care less about you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a leech attached to my sister because she feels guilty about your father. Nothing more, nothing less.” A thin-lipped smile curves her lips then as Rebecca scuffs the heel of her boot on the concrete beneath her feet, looking down as she does so.

[rebeccasheart-blog]

( -- amberdupont )

      The voice was not one that she had expected. Amber had expected one of the Diamonds, maybe her Madam, or even Ben if he was feeling reckless. She’d thought that even Tiger or Daniel was more likely, but not their mother. Not Rebecca Heart, the Red Queen herself. Shock settled into discontent and Amber, naturally, lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. Many cruel words came to mind, all for the sake of protecting herself, but they all died on the tip of her tongue before making themselves known. Everything faded because fighting with Rebecca wasn’t worth it.

      A small recess in her mind went to a concerned place. She worried about the woman who had lost her husband, how she was dealing with her children, how she was handling the loss herself, but those questions would not vocalise either. Amber merely stared on with narrowed brown eyes. Staying like that, internally battling between fierce and soft, curt and long-winded, between chasing Rebecca off as she had the last time or making herself approachable once more, Amber didn’t know what to do. 

      Her mouth seemed to tire of waiting for her heart and her head to come to agreement for words finally came out, but not the ones she’d wanted or even thought about saying.

      “It’s not as if you care, so why bother asking me?” She was more petulant than she’d wanted to be and it sounded entirely too whiny, but the question was out there and she couldn’t take it back. Wanting to stop, her mouth refused the command and went on. “You left me. You walked away. You turned me into everyone else and you pushed me away and you didn’t come here to see me, so why are you asking what’s wrong? You obviously couldn’t give a shit, Rebecca. I can hear it in your voice. Don’t patronise me with an empty question right now. You don’t care about me and you never have so don’t strain yourself on me now. You pretending just hurts more.”

           Her brow rises at the response Amber gives, not necessarily what Rebecca had expected but she is not surprised either. Their last ‘conversation’ hadn’t ended well and clearly, she was still bitter. Perhaps Rebecca was too, but she had far more pressing matters than tending to the wounds of a girl who could care less about her -- the death of her husband, of her niece, her inability to find her sister ( for though she would deny it, Rebecca was worried about Vivianne ), and she had a vendetta to enact...

           Why was she wasting her time on Amber, when Amber so clearly didn’t want her?

        Steeling herself, feeling the little genuine care she’d had for this girl start to slip away, Rebecca’s stare turned cold and her jaw locked. Her eyes rolled, and she scoffed. “-- you are everyone else, Ms. Dupont.” Rebecca would not allow her to get close again -- she wouldn’t allow anyone to. “Don’t presume to know me, you don’t. Perhaps I do care, or perhaps I did once -- you’re right, I don’t now.” Her tone of voice is unwavering, cold and distant. But everything she says is a lie. It’s just easier to pretend her heart is made of ice than to wear it on her sleeve. “-- curiosity got the better of me, my mistake. I should have known you’d play the victim and I should have continued on my way without a second thought to you. Clearly, whatever’s upset you is of no concern to me so I’ll just be on my way then.” 

              Rising from her seat, finding herself somewhat annoyed at having only just sat as it is, Rebecca mussed her hair with her hand and stared down at Amber. “-- it seems I dodged a metaphorical bullet. Maybe I’ll thank Natasha before I kill her for unwittingly saving me from mistaking you for someone I should care for.”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

( -- spadejames )

      “I should go?” He echoed hollowly. There was a carelessness in his tone, too blasé for the situation yet he could not bring himself to be completely sympathetic, was hardly hidden. James would not be sent away, however, and if she wanted to treat him like a pariah now, then he got a taste of what he’d done to her after his father had died. It hurt. 

                            “Explain to me why I should go.” He wanted an answer.

       He needed a grand explanation because while he cared not about Marcus, James cared about his family. Disown them and ruin them as he had tried, distance himself and keep them out of his life, they were never completely removed and he figured he’d spent enough time avoiding them. It was time to join them.

                She looks at him with a question in her eyes, confusion and disbelief coexisting in a dark, pain-filled gaze. “-- you don’t belong here, James.” Quiet words slip past her lips and her chest tightens and she’s not sure if she’s talking about here, as in the Redrum with her -- the other side, or if she’s talking about here in general, Wonderland, Chicago. He is not her son, as much as she’d loved him like one, he is not her son.

                           She doesn’t owe him anything, least of all an explanation.

                But she’ll give him one anyway, because she is so angry and so hurt and so, so tired and James, for whatever reasons, has yet to look at her as if she’s broken. “-- my husband is dead,” she starts, looking down at her lap with avid interest. “... my husband is dead and your sister is dead and you should be with your mother, James -- I know how you feel about her but you should be with Vivianne, she needs you and you need her, don’t deny it, I know you do -- I can’t help you, you can’t help me, I -- I’m, I can’t... I’m sorry, Luca...”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

( -- charliexheart )

When his mother turned to look at him, there was a strange appeal at the coldness of it all. Instead of hesitating, there was an unwavering gaze back at her. It wasn’t because he enjoyed seeing her anger. Far from it. In a way, it was a reassurance that she was going to everything in her power to bring the chief of police to her knees, and the thought of that kind of power was appealing. Was it his grief that made him think like this? Probably. And yet, he was done fighting against the demon lurking beneath him. Looking at his mother was like looking in a reflection, someone he was destined to become the second he was born a Heart. All the memories he tried to push away when hearing the cries of his parents’ enemies. All the times he was left under the care of Daniel until Daniel had to grow into the shoes of their parents leaving him and his siblings left to care for themselves. It was pointless to try to be a better person. His path had been already set…even if he was the second to youngest. 

Licking his lower lip, he huffed out a small humorless laugh when he’d realized what slipped out. “It doesn’t matter.” There was a small pause he took for the sake of gather his thoughts. “There’s this saying..‘when you know what a someone loves, you know what can kill them’. I say you should return the favor…It shouldn’t be too hard to find out, especially with the most dangerous drug in the world.” His voice craggy from the drained energy he’d been suffering from.

                  She knew what was said about her. She knew that most didn’t see her as a mother first -- they thought Wonderland meant more to her than her family, and that was fine. Let them think what they wanted, they’d learn eventually. But that wasn’t her. Her children mattered, everything she did now, it was all for them. With their father gone, it was just her -- oh god, it was just her now. 

                Looking at her son, truly looking at him, she flinched as she saw his father. Her eyes averted and closed as she composed herself, felt her jaw steel... she loved her children, she loved her children, she loved her children -- over and over again she had to tell herself, remind herself... but it was getting harder and harder as of late. Marcus’ death had helped but even still, how can she love her children when she scarcely believed they loved her? 

    Charlie -- opening her eyes, she looked up at her son with a furrow between her brow. He’d never hurt her, never thrown words meant to scathe at her face, or questioned her choices, or faked his death... Moving forward, Rebecca’s hand rose and her palm flattened over his cheek, her thumb brushing a soothing circle and though it was meant to comfort, a subconscious move reserved for her children only, there was little light in her eyes as she smiled. “-- mama’ll make her pay, don’t worry.”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

( -- catecheshire )

She knew this wasn’t a good time for this. Cate was very aware of how bad Rebecca had been after Tiger’s fake death, so her state after Marcus’ had come as no shock. Cate had made up her mind though. It didn’t feel right leaving Rebecca in the dark like this, not while hers and Marcus’ affair was happening and certainly not now that he was gone and no one else could come clean. This wasn’t the time, but if she didn’t tell her now then there was no chance in hell she’ll be able to muster up the courage to tell her at any other time. “Marcus and I were having an affair.” It comes out very bluntly and she feels both guilty and relieved the moment it leaves her mouth. 

                     It doesn’t register at first. Blind with rage and with a crack in her heart, it takes a moment to sink in exactly what Cate’s just told her, and as it sinks in, as the reality of just how fucked up her marriage had become dawns on her, she can do nothing but stare. She shouldn’t feel so hurt, so slighted, so betrayed -- when she herself had fallen in to something she couldn’t yet define with someone other than her husband... but she does. She feels it more than she thought she would, and it breaks her heart. Why her? Why Cate? -- Had Rebecca not been enough for him? 

            After Caroline, she’d felt the distance. They were both mourning and she’d pulled away from him as he found solace in drink -- but for a long time there, she’d thought he’d come back to her. That they could pretend, if only in private when it was just the two of them, she had thought they could pretend to be a normal couple. He’d help her and she’d help him and together they’d get through the loss of their daughter... but the distance had only grown between them and she’d felt it settle there, like that, unmoving, unchanging. 

                It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did, knowing that he’d slept with someone else ( she had too, after all.. and she was almost close to admitting that she’d fallen in love as well ) -- but maybe it wasn’t just the idea of him between the legs of another. Maybe she could have handled it better had it been someone else, anyone else, with a face she didn’t know, with a face she hadn’t trusted. 

           “... get out,” she finally speaks, after a long stretch of silence, and the words slip from her lips slowly, a crack in her voice as she stares unseeingly at the ground before that gaze rises and she glares with a hatred that should be reserved for the likes of Natasha Morris. “-- I trusted you! I fucking trusted you!” Lesson learned.

[rebeccasheart-blog]

amberdupont.

      It felt like being ripped apart. Her body was pulled in every direction and loyalty became a words with empty promises and no tangible meaning. Her heart was scattered across Wonderland with no rue home and it was turning her mind into a mess. Head feeling like a cage to a wild animal, body feeling foreign, Amber knew not where to turn. On one hand, she wept for Bree; the less than sweet girl that she had considered family as she did with all Spades and Diamonds, the younger one she’d taken under her wing at times, told her the right way to move her hips and make her movements more fluid and less choppy to make men weak at their knees and hard where it mattered. A handful of times, she’d let her dislike of Alice known to Amber and each time the elder had told her to make her own identity rather than try to be a better version of someone that existed.

      Yet her traitorous feelings wandered to redder territory as she worried for Marcus’ family: Tiger, Daniel, Charlie, and Rebecca. Her relationship with each living Heart was more complicated than the next, but they were her friends. They were her family as well. Her heart hurt not for the loss of Marcus as it did with Bree, but for the unknowing of how they were reacting. Mostly, she wanted to run to Daniel, her friend, or apologise to Rebecca and show that she cared. When the woman had been in the hospital, Amber missed the opportunity, but now she could prove that what she felt was undeniable. 

      Scared, petrified, and cowardly, however, she stayed rooted in place. Slumping over a diner table with more food surrounding her than she could stomach, Amber could only find self-loathing as her only motivation to leave her home. It kept her from turning to Diamond or Spade, Club or Heart. She didn’t belong with either and she found that true now as she could not decide who to give herself to.

                                     Was if selfish that she wished she were dead?

      “I don’t really feel like having a conversation.” Her usually melodic lilt was missing, voice flat. dark eyes endless and dead. Why anyone would sit across from her, she didn’t want to think about. She wanted to be alone. “Just leave me alone.”

                                        Vivianne. That’s why she’s here. Her relationship with her sister had gotten better since The Joker’s arrival, cemented in to something akin to what it had once been when they were children -- close, but not quite. And though the circumstances were different, and the end result favoured Rebecca, she knew what her sister was going through. To lose a child, to have them cruelly taken and being helpless to stop it -- Rebecca knew that feeling all too well. That was why she was here. To see her sister, to speak with her... And she was much more equipped to deal with such a conversation now than she had been mere days ago, weeks even. Marcus’ death had sent Rebecca spiralling and had caused more than a few near incidents with her Reds. She’d scared them. Either through violence to them or to herself. But she had a plan -- and she intended to share that with Vivianne. 

                      But Vivianne was hard to find these days, and Rebecca had stumbled across someone else in her search. Indifference still lingers in The Red Queen’s eyes but in her heart, it pains. She’s colder now, meaner -- but Amber Dupont had been someone she once cared about ( and admittedly, still does ). Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, Rebecca’s eyes narrow as they fall upon the dancer, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. A lone finger taps over the crease of her elbow as lips purse and she contemplates. 

                 Her sister is not here. She has not reason to linger in these halls -- she should return to The Redrum. Prepare her Reds for what’s to come. And yet, she moves forward of her own accord, finds herself tugging out a seat and perching herself on the edge. Even as Amber’s words meet her ears, she remains wordless in turn, saying nothing as she glances over the girl’s dishevelled appearance and cocks her head slightly. Everyone is in mourning. Even those with little to no love in their hearts for the three fallen -- they mourn too. Was Amber grieving for herself, or was she grieving by association? 

                            It shouldn’t matter to Rebecca. The tiny dancer had made her feelings well known ( whether they were the same as Rebecca assumed had yet to be determined ) and The Queen had no reason for keeping her company. Eyes dark and cold remain fixated on the girl before she finally speaks, making Amber’s company known. “What’s wrong with you?” She drawls dully, implying a lack of care that Rebecca is hard-pressed to truly feel.

[rebeccasheart-blog]

ben-holmes.

It’s the wailing that alerted him to disaster. High pitched screaming and crying that he soon learns came from Cate and it only takes him a few moments to learn what has happened. Marcus is dead, Bree is gone too and Ben feels more than a little sick. Bree had been like a little sister to him, one he had watched grow up and had felt protective of and a part of him feels like he has let her down. Marcus…he and Ben had barely ever spoken. He was just that man that was married to Rebecca that Ben held a petty disdain for, one that he now felt bad for. After a quiet drink alone, Ben first texted Alice to see if he could stop by and see her as well as everyone else, but he hesitated over Rebecca’s contact. He felt pretty bad right now, and to imagine how she felt worried him. 

It takes him barely fifteen minutes to get to her front door and he knocks a couple of times before just pushing the door open. He’s never been in her house before, but he bets it looks much different now to how it usually does. Everything is broken and glass crunches under his feet as he makes his way through the house. “Rebecca?” He calls out loudly and he frowns when he sees blood on the walls with marks from her nails. He frowns harder when he finds her just as broken as most of her household currently is. “Becs…” Ben crouched down so he was more level with her, reaching out so he can brush his thumb across her cheek and the other raising to smooth down her hair. This wasn’t fair, things should never have gotten this bad. “I’m so sorry.” 

                 She doesn’t hear him. She doesn’t hear the knocking, her name called out loud. There is nothing to hear but her own cries and the sound of her heart beating erratically. Blood pumps in her ears and they ring, but she doesn’t care. She is a mess, but she doesn’t care. She’ll make herself sick with all this crying... she doesn’t care. Her eyes are screwed shut as she tries to forget, as she tries to stop -- just... stop. But she can’t. 

                It’s not until he’s in front of her, until he’s touching her, that her eyes open. Rebecca stares at him, eyes red and cheeks wet, bloody smears across her jaw and down her chest, her hair in disarray. She stares at him, and she wants to let him hold her, to feel his arms around her shoulders and bury her nose in his neck but then she thinks of Marcus, of her husband, of the father of her children -- and he’s gone. He’s gone and there’s nothing she can do about it.

               She loves Ben, but she loved Marcus first and she can feel her heart breaking, a part of it dying with the man who’d been her everything for so very long. She looks at Ben, and the words leave her lips without resistance, low and gravelly, her voice raw with her throat tight from the screams she’d thrown. “                         get out.”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

whitediamond-alice.

Drunk and reckless. That was the state Alice had been in since the day after the funeral. She had used all of her energy on keeping her mother together that when she finally got a moment alone she’d fallen apart. Everyone had known that her and Bree didn’t have the best relationship, with Bree at times down right refusing to include Alice as a part of the family, but it never changed the fact that that is exactly what Bree was to Alice, family. They might not have always gotten along but Alice loved Bree just as much as she did the rest of her family and it killed her that she died alone and scared and in pain.

Pain. Yes, Alice would find the monster who did this to her naive baby sister and she would ensure that vengeance would be served. But in the mean time, well, she was going to drink, she was going to drink until the pain was pushed deep down inside of her – until her heart stopped breaking. It was the first time she’d actually gotten dressed in days and after one (or three) too many drinks Alice was on her way home, making her way through an alley rather clumsily, until she registered the noise of footsteps behind her. Without even a thought, the blonde reached into her purse and withdrew the small glock her mother had given to her just a few months ago and whipped around, pointing the weapon directly at the stranger who was still lurking in the shadows. “I swear,” her words were slurred but her voice was strong and angry, “tonight is not the fucking night to mess with me. Show your god damned face.”

                  There is no love lost between them. Rebecca remembers vividly the agony she had Alice put through, and on some level, she does regret it. But on another, she doesn’t give a damn. They are not family. They are not friends. Rebecca knows that Edward’s daughter no doubt hates her, and if she were incapable of such an emotion, at the very least strongly dislikes her. But she had been meaning to ‘make amends’ long before... this. If only because she knew Ben would appreciate the attempt. Now though -- now she has alternative reasons.

           She has calmed, somewhat. Her outbursts from earlier, the screaming and the orders and the threats -- they have calmed her rage, allowed it to simmer down and pool within her very soul. She has plans, Rebecca. Her husband and her niece’s murderer will feel her wrath in a rather violent manner, if the ideas in her head are anything to go by. The only thing now was to find the perfect location to enact them, and then she could decide on which to follow through. That’s how she finds her. Little Alice, drunk and alone, her lip curls and a snarl threatens to tear from her throat as she watches the girl stumbled each step she took. Stupid brat, she near hisses through her teeth. Moron, idiot, fucking menace. Had this not been how her sister had died? 

                  Dark eyes flit and flicker, taking in the empty street and the pathetic excuse for lighting above as she watches from the corner as Alice wanders down an alley. Her eyes roll slowly and close, irritation burning in her blood as she wonders whether her own children were currently like this -- recklessly stupid. That’s why she follows. Not out of love for the girl she could consider but does not. But out of fear for her sister who, should she lose yet another child, may break completely. And Rebecca’d only just got her back...

                   She follows for a while, actually. And it causes a scowl to form  She is not being subtle, and yet it’s not until her footsteps echo that she’s noticed. Rebecca pauses as Alice moves, the gun a surprise but not terribly frightening, and her eyes are drawn to it for a moment as she remembers the agony that accompanies a bullet through ones heart. But then her brow rises, and she looks up and her eyes meet the blonde’s, and she scoffs. She strides forward, ripping the glock from Alice’s hand and shoves past the girl with a gentle push to her shoulder as she passes. Easily and quickly unloading the gun, the bullets drop to the ground and she turns, tossing it back so it lands at Alice’s feet. “You’re not a killer, little girl. Don’t pretend like you are... it’s embarrassing.”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

off with her head || t/b

                It’s easier than it should be. The Chief of Police -- she’s not nearly as well guarded as one would think. It draws a smile to her lips, that ever-present glint in her eye seemingly brighter as she waits in silence, shrouded in shadows. There’s a lit cigarette balanced between two fingers. She hasn’t smoked in years. But as she taps it quickly, watches sparks of ash float to the ground, she relishes in the high it gives her. Red lips wrap around the bud as her eyes watch every movement made, and she scowls. 

                      They’ll die. Every last one of them, as far as she’s concerned. Oh, sure -- Ethan Holmes had been of some use and he’s unfortunately connected to her through Ben ( though the bastard may not know so ), but his colleagues are starting to get on her nerves, and her shooting had only tipped the scale towards their imminent deaths. Their Chief had signed their names in blood and, were Natasha to survive the night ( in which Rebecca can only laugh ), they should consider mutiny. 

                            Innocent, they’d say. 

                                             Rebecca wouldn’t care. 

                                                            When she looks up, it’s to the very woman she seeks emerging from the station. Her eyes darken and she pushes away from the wall she’d been leaning against, cigarette dropping to the pavement where she leaves it lit. Stepping forward, the streetlight shines and she watches from across the street as Natasha looks her way. Staring for a long moment, an eventual smile curves The Red Queen’s blood painted lips. It’s coy, and malicious, and she nearly allows laughter to break before she simply cocks her head to the side, and turns on her heel. She strides down the path with her back to the bitch, her hands itching to wrap around her throat, before she disappears around a corner, and comes to stand in an alley not far from The Chief’s workplace, where she moves to lean against another wall, and she admires her nails.

(                                 @chiefmorris​ )

[rebeccasheart-blog]

catecheshire.

She stands there, still as a statue as Rebecca screams and swears at all of them. She’s seen Rebecca mad before, but never like this. Cate’s own eyes are rimmed as red as her queen’s are and she’s spent most of her time drunk, crying and very briefly in jail. But now as she stands before Rebecca, all she feels is guilt for what she and Marcus had done. As the rest of the Reds file out, most of them looking grief stained or scared shitless, Cate remained behind. She wrung her hands as she stepped forward. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I really need to talk to you, Rebecca.”

                           Cate has always been bold. Rebecca knew that, had known that the moment she met her -- but she hadn’t thought her stupid. Can she not see the instability in her eyes? Rebecca would kill her own Capo if properly provoked, and she’d feel no remorse for it. That’s what it’s like when she’s like this -- and she’s only ever been like this twice. The number of bodies littering the streets of Wonderland after her daughter’s faux death had only been rivalled by the number after her father’s. Her eyes bore in to Cate’s with a furious glint within, and she snarls. “What?”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

tigerxheart.

Tiger waited. Her back pressed against the wall just outside, knees drawn up to her chest. It’s been two weeks, but it hasn’t gotten any easier to live without the people newly lost. The Jokers were mourning and she mourned her friend. The Spades mourned and she mourned her cousin. Her father…they hadn’t been that close even before and she regrets all the things she was too full of pride to say to him.  She watched as Reds filed out and waited for them to be out of her sight before she pushed up onto her feet and walked into her mother’s office. “Mom…” She called her name softly, but the rest of the words got caught in her throat. Instead, she moved forward and wrapped her arms around Rebecca’s waist, her face burrowing against her shoulder.

                              Grief welcomes her with open arms. Rebecca has mourned before, has mourned more often than one should in a single lifetime. But this time it’s different. Her husband, her niece -- she could’ve prevented it. She could’ve put a bullet in Natasha’s brain the moment she realised, the moment she remembered... Guilt is new. And she feels it profusely. Rebecca spent the first day or so a complete mess. Their house -- her, house -- was evident of that. The entire building was a mess. Everything shattered, or broken. And she’d cried. Oh, how she had cried. Heartbreak, and agony -- throughout everything, Marcus had been there. Though he had been distant of late, he had still stood by her side. That was why she had been so hard-pressed to let him go. Now though, she had cried too much, and screamed herself hoarse. 

              She felt nothing now. Nothing but an anger unfelt since Caroline’s supposed death. Rebecca had been so very determined to destroy Vivianne for her apparent involvement -- she would succeed with Natasha... The opening of her door is unexpected, the girl standing in it’s way is not. It’s unfortunate though, that Tiger had to come now. That she had to see her like this -- and Rebecca can do nothing about it. When arms throw around her waist, her own rise of their own accord and she merely stands there, in her daughter’s embrace, motionless. She stares over Tiger’s head, her heart traitorous as it thunders in her chest, and she swallows. When she speaks, her tone is monotonous, void of the comfort she’s sure Tiger is there for. “What are you doing here?”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

spadejames.

                                     ‘I told you so.’

      The words were stuck in his mouth, coating the roof and clinging to ever crevice within, but he dare not let it out. Watching on silently, numb to whatever pain that was felt by a Heart due to his distance from Marcus growing up, the only pang that developed in his chest was purely from the anguish of seeing his Aunt hurt once more. “Rebecca,” he began gently, not sure if he should hold her back or send her subordinate off as they stared dumbly at their boss, James chose not to move at all. “Leave us.” His tone was finite though he had no right to order around a Club, yet he did it without hesitation.

      Finally, he rose slowly and crossed from his seat to his aunt. A loose grip around her shoulders had him steering her towards the couch. “Will you speak with me?”

                 They look at her, and she can see the fear in their eyes. Are they scared of her, or for her? She doesn’t care. She is so tired of caring -- it’s only ever gotten her hurt, or left her alone. Were it possible, she’d carve her own heart out and leave it to bleed. Surely, it would be better than enduring such agony? She’s ready to scream at them, to take their lives if need be -- but he stops her. His voice. James. Standing rigid and tense, she watches without seeing as her Red’s scatter -- he is not their King, she thinks. Their King is dead. 

                                Still, she allows him near. Allows him to lead her towards a sofa with teeth ground and eyes vacant. She does not sit. Her arm jerks away from his and she turns from him, stares with a creased brow and a frown as she blinks at him warily. “You shouldn’t be here,” she mutters, her gaze dropping from his face. “You shouldn’t be here,” she repeats, quieter now as she folds her arms over her chest and slowly looks up. “            you should go.”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

charliexheart.

Glistening eyes concentrated on the minute hand ticking away as his knuckles continued to throb with a sting. At this point, there were no more tears for him to shed, and he was stuck in this hallow limbo just watching the anger and sadness from everyone else. It was cringing, but outside, there was no reaction. He just watched the clock as if waiting for the pain to go or…was he accepting that his pain wasn’t going to leave? No matter how fixated his eyes were on the clock, something was pulling under his skin. Frustrated. Confused. Scared. Everything was all so consuming that when he turned to hear his mother’s shouts, he just looked with a ringing in his ear until everything went silent after her final battle cry. His throat constricted the moment his lips parted, but with the strength he could muster, he murmured without his full awareness. “I was hoping on a different story.”

              There is no reasoning with her when she is like this. That was a lesson learned a long time ago -- Rebecca could be vicious when provoked, a ruthless killer with very little morals to keep her grounded. Her husband’s death had brought out the monster that hid within, the psychopath that rarely reared it’s head but once released, would leave trails of blood in it’s wake. This wasn’t about just Marcus though, hardly. He was her husband and she had loved him, yes. But he was also her children’s father, whether he’d been a particularly good one or not didn’t seem to matter. He was hers, and she’d taken him -- she’d pay with her head. With hands that remained fisted by her sides, slightly shaking, blood pumped through her veins, thundering, ringing in her ears. 

          She almost hadn’t heard him, almost hadn’t realised it was him at all -- her turn was slow, a dark look still glinting in her eyes. It’s almost crazed, with a fire unseen since the early days of her feud with Vivianne. She stares at him, her son, unseeingly, a cold look in her eyes as she tries to piece together just who is standing in front of her... “                what?” Rebecca growls, blinking the haze from her eyes as she takes in Charlie, and she shakes her head, releasing her hands from the clenched ball they’d become. “I... what?”

[rebeccasheart-blog]

      ‘                     I want her... ‘ Rebecca’s voice is low and rough. Her eyes rimmed red and her hands visibly shake as, with each word spoken, she gets louder and louder until she’s screaming in rage at every RED in sight. ‘ Did I stutter? Get out there, and find her, and bring her to me! ‘ She should have done something sooner -- she should’ve killed the bitch the moment she realised who’d put the bullet in her heart... Mania glints in her eyes, hair dishevelled, as she searches for a face she will never see again -- and rage burns in her bones. ‘ Fucking find her! ‘

[rebeccasheart-blog]

         She’s never felt like this before. Un-hinged. Disconnected. There’s a part of her that switches between calm and caring to completely psychotic. It happens rarely these days, only when someone has truly slighted her, and killing her husband is perhaps the biggest one could commit -- but she hadn’t stopped there. Oh no. She’d taken her niece as well and, whilst they had never been close ( not like she and James had been ), Bree was family. She remembers that feeling all to well. Losing Caroline had felt like a hell she would never crawl out of -- but Caroline was alive. Bree wasn’t. And Marcus...

            There’s an anger in her unseen since the start of all of this. Since her father’s death and her feud with Vivianne. That switch goes off almost as soon as she’s given the news, knowing full well who’d taken her husband, the father of her children, had only fuelled her fury. She’s at home when she’s told, and there’s very little left of her home to show of it. Furniture, broken. Glass, shattered. There’s bloody claw marks on the walls from where she’d dragged her fingernails down in a fit of rage. Her hair’s in disarray and there are tear-tracks on her cheeks. When did she start crying? -- Rebecca sits alone, in the dark, her back against the wall. And her heart breaks.