#dex: threads ft. delainey

[fragmcntedsouls]

continued from here // delainey moore @lawfvlhunter

Turning up at Laine’s apartment was a risk and there was a part of him that wondered whether or not she would be willing to accommodate him. He soon breathed a sigh of relief as the door was pushed open wider, even if no formal invitation was offered. "I didn't know where else to go."

His admittance was followed by hesitation, before eventually offering reassurance, "before you ask, no I wasn't followed and nobody knows that i’m here but --" clearing his throat, he ran a thumb across brow, exhaling unsteadily. "They came looking for me at work. OEA, I mean. Started asking questions -- I uh, slipped out the back." His jaw tightened, knowing that it wasn't safe for Sierra or the kids for him to be at the house and he wondered how selfish that made him for now turning up at Laine’s door. And now, whether or not those circumstances would encourage her to resend her invitation. 

[fragmcntedsouls]

The force behind Delainey’s words told Dex everything that he needed to know and still, he chose to see straight through her. A part of him wondered whether he was still just a hopeful fool, but instinct told him otherwise. “Would you have done it?” His tone lacked its previous strength and he wasn’t sure whether or not he would even believe her answer, but still he had to ask. “If it was you, in mom’s position - would you have killed me?” Outstretching his arms, the wolf shrugged “because you haven’t yet and this is the perfect opportunity. Shouldn’t that tell me something?” Despite her adamant protests, Dex found himself refusing to buy into her words. “And look at you? What do you have to show for it, Lainey? Huh? An empty apartment, a handful of old records. Look at you" he repeated "what do you have to show for it? A fucking tattoo?” the wolf shook his head, having joined his sister in the kitchen as his palms hit firmly against her countertop “you might have been thanked for it, but it has gotten you nowhere.” 

He could feel the rage simmering beneath his skin, discoloring his cheeks as he tried to force the emotion back into its tightly sealed box. No good would come from them taking chunks out of oneanother. Emotionally or physically. Dex forced a breath and his brow furrowed as it harboured the weight of his outburst. “I’m sorry. I should have” he swallowed his words, forcefully as his eyes found Delainey’s "I shouldn't have said that."

He didn’t want to hear anymore and forcing the continuation of the topic would only make the both of them miserable. This isn’t how their lives should have turned out, or at least how Delainey’s should have turned out. For this, he was responsible. He left his kid sister alone with the real monsters and when that was the only security that she had ever really known, how could he blame her? “I don’t want to know. It’s probably best that I don’t.” 

Having brought her father into this had been a low blow, even for Dex and it had been a truth that he’d promised himself never to tell her, if they ever did cross paths again. Already, he’d broken another promise to her. The first being that he would never, leave. But again, despite it not being her intention, she fed him words that for a second, offered him hope. He was arrogant to believe that maybe, just maybe she could be pulled back from the edge. That he could do that. Finally, do something for her. “I’m still your family. No matter what. Whether you want it or not, i’m still your brother.” He could feel his heart twisting and the pain made itself known on his contorted features.

His knuckles had turned white from the intensity of his grip against the counter - anything to try and quell the discomfort of the emotions stirred deep within his soul. “I know” was all he could manage, “I know that, but I was a stupid kid. I made a mistake and I - i’m responsible for this.” With no ring on his finger, it would have been easy enough for him to lie to her and for a moment longer than he should have, Dex considered it. Instead, he stood himself upright, smoothing his palms down the crinkles of his suit jacket. “I was alone for a long time. I uh, became accustomed to that. But yeah ... then I met somebody." He paused, lifting a hand to tug his fingers through his hair. "Under any other circumstances, you'd love her."

Her jaw clenched, frustrated he had any idea of how she thought anymore. He didn't deserve to read her that well, especially not the way this meeting had thrown her off-kilter. Maybe it was best if this was a one-time thing. "You," she snapped, hoping the force of it would make him leave it alone, "I'm never emotional. That's how this business kills you."

She narrowed her gaze at him as he accused her of not knowing what she was talking about as if she hadn't been on this very path since she was eight years old. "Don't know the meaning of the word?" She parrotted back, offering him a scoff of her own. "Go fuck yourself, Dex. I have seen monsters, I have killed them. I have been thanked for it." She rolled her eyes as he blamed their family for his only kill, happy to inform him, "you are an exception then. Most wolves do have multiple kills on their records. We are protecting this city! Humans are educated now, able to at least attempt to defend themselves. The chaos we're facing right now is from witches, not us. But of course, we're the monsters, right? I'm the monster."

He was defending them. After she'd done the waiting, she'd--no, that was emotional. "If you'd like to see my trophy case, you can count. I've lost track," she replied, deadpan in her delivery. "Vampires are dead before we kill them, so if you want to place blame, maybe the actual killers? You do know they have to die first? It's step one to vampirism. Well, step two, actually." His further examples were more complicated, of course, but she didn't back down. "No, I don't care. We're making the world safer, and yes, I enjoy it too. Is that what you want? You want me to admit that I like my job? I do. I am proud. The tattoo was my choice. I didn't feel guilty then, I don't feel guilty now. I have done what most people cannot do, and I don't think it's wrong. Someone has to die: the supernaturals or the humans. It is as simple as that. Who do you want to live? You mix in feelings and 'oh they're people' and you get very confusing shades of grey. When in actuality, it's simple math. Are people going to die who were living nice, quiet lives? Sure, fine, I'll admit that for you too. It's the price of war. We cannot eradicate in effective numbers if we're playing judge and jury too. It's not possible."

Her heart--one she claimed she did not possess--ached in her chest as he continued to speak, told her his side of the truth. How her father had kept them apart. Even as she spoke of the price of war, a small voice said it wasn't fair he was part of that price. The child in her, dead as she was, wished for only a moment she could just hold him. Just for a minute. Rewrite the story where she'd looked out the window to no result...to this result. His own admission that he was lost to her. "I'd lose more than another family member, and you know that." And that's all she'd give him. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't get out.

They were lost, she thought again. It was like talking to a gravestone, fruitless and painful. Nothing would change, nothing could change. "We could have done that together, you know," she voiced aloud before she thought better of it so she quickly moved on. "Are you married? Kids? Not going to tell me?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

There was something off about the way that she was presenting herself. It didn’t matter how fiercely she fought to build up the walls to keep everyone and everything out, Dex could just sense it. No words had been necessary. His chin tilted upwards as she responded, but still he couldn’t bring himself to believe her; no matter how intensely that pained him.

He wanted to trust that she wasn't leading him into a trap and even if she hadn't wanted to, Delainey wasn't the one pulling the strings. That was all on the OEA. Her message had been discrete, but it had been received by Dex loud and clear. The wolf shifted uncomfortably on the soles of his shoes, scratching his digits through his facial hair, just to occupy his hands in some way as he agreed to go with her.

“That’s generous” he quipped, but more so to keep up appearances in front of the guards before following his sisters lead. His concerns were soon confirmed, but in the same breath; he now found himself trusting of Delainey. His blood ran cold as she mentioned the non existent slumber party and his jaw tightened, but he nodded imperceptibly. Anything to communicate that he understood. The closest that Delainey had ever gotten to a slumber party had been Dex fashioning a tent for them out of sheets and filling it with cushions where the pair told stories all night and gorged on candy that he’d brought home from the arcade. Her code had proven effective, haunting, but effective “the one with the food fight? I remember." He was a little rusty at speaking in code, the closest he got nowadays was spelling out words to Sierra so that Logan wouldn't understand. But this was his way of asking whether there was a threat to life, here.

The relief she felt at the sight of him lingered, even as the pain of being in his presence like this rose. After that hallucination, all she wanted was to hug him. That scream had left her feeling raw, weak, and she hated it. She felt like a child again, like she was starting over.

"A truce," she repeated the company line, "maybe we just need a ceasefire for one night?" Yet, it ached, oh how it ached, to lie to him. "Laine is fine," she stated simply, as if to say touche. Ms. Moore sounded to her probably like Mr. Vane sounded to him, like a heartbreaking divide, even if she saw the benefits in not sharing a surname.

With a small tilt of her head to follow her away from the security, she explained, "it's an open bar, so let's get you a drink." Once they were more among a crowd, she did something she never thought she would, "remember that slumber party I had when I was 6?" He wouldn't because she'd never had one of those. Her father had never allowed things like that, he forbade a lot of things. "This annual gala always reminds me of that."

[fragmcntedsouls]

“You know it isn’t as straightforward as that” Dex countered, mentally pleading with his sister to drop her facade; even just for a few seconds. Trying to decipher whether or not her her word meant anything on that particular day was exhausting and whilst he didn’t want to admit it, but he had to “how do I know that I can trust this? Trust that getting bad guys off the street is your intention?” Shaking his head, he tugged his fingers through his hair before leaning closer and asking lowly, “what happens when the rest of the OEA find out what I am? What does that mean for you?”

His jaw tightened as the conversation shifted towards his daughter, his voice remaining low as he answered Laine's questions. “She's 22, she doesn’t know not about this.” Releasing an unsteady breath, his gaze lifted to meet Laine’s hesitating before encouraging himself to ask, “what do you know about Everleigh's coven? because I wasn't born yesterday and you're obviously keeping tabs on her, so if i'm doing this, if we're doing this, I need to know everything that you do.”

Everything in her body language would indicate this was any other person she might recruit or taunt, not the one person on this earth she gave a shit about. "It's a very easy ask," she retorted, "do you want bad guys off the streets or not?" Meeting his gaze, she knew he could see through her, so she offered back, "for now, I'm asking." Whether it stayed that way, well, that wasn't up to her. That was up to him.

For all she'd built, the way her nails left impressions into anything she'd ever wanted, she had her success. She had everything but the relationship with her brother she'd been denied. "You can," she promised, "we can put all the mission stuff down." However, his answer wasn't something she could have expected. Ever. "A daughter?" She repeated in a hushed voice. "How old? When did this happen?" Her mind was quick to realize the gold this was, but she held back for a moment to be his sister. This was a good sign, him confiding in her. Maybe he would come back for her, maybe they wouldn't need any games this time.

[fragmcntedsouls]

“You spoil me” Dex muttered as he loosened his tie, unpopping the first button of his shirt "at least make it sting this time.” The call – whilst unexpected – sure as hell wasn’t going to be unanswered, as shocking as it might have been to see his sister’s name flashing up on his phone. His lips twitched as he crashed down onto the couch with a playful groan, “it’s a step in the right direction, so I guess i’ll take it.”   

He was capable enough to decipher that this wasn’t a social invitation and drawing such from his sister would be like squeezing blood from a stone, but he would accept whatever handout was given. In a similar theme, he'd come to learn not to ask questions that he didn't want the answer to – so he didn’t. He’d rather not know whether Laine had a hand in that untimely demise. Despite having just relaxed into the couch, her general demeanour indicated that he shouldn't get comfortable and he soon sat himself forwards, narrowing his gaze towards his sister. “Favors before the poison? shit – where’s this going exactly?”

( @fragmcntedsouls | dex. )

"I got some new poison in since you were last here, would you like a cup?" Laine dryly teased as she led her brother to the couch. This time, it had been her who called him to come over once he scraped himself off the ground from the shock. "I did get some beer, but I drew the line at snacks I'll never eat."

She had a point, and he would know it. "We lost our head of NOLA recently and very tragically." A force slight frown punctuated the news. "The OEA is going through some changes, and I need someone I trust. I haven't asked you for anything since I was eight years old, but...I need you now more than I ever have."

[fragmcntedsouls]

Strangers was a difficult term for Dex to digest. In his head he’d kept the memory of his sister very much alive, but he could tell that Laine had choked the innocence out of herself, or at very least the hands their relatives had done that for her. Delainey’s words caught him off guard and for a moment he stopped browsing through her records as he turned to ask “me or you?” 

An unamused scoff urged from his lungs, doing his best to maintain some kind of composure. “You talk about monsters, but it’s like you don’t know the meaning of the word." The wolf shrugged, his eyes finding his sisters "but hunters? The literal definition is to pursue and kill,” Dex shook his head, unable to look away. “I follow the rules, I chain myself up. But you know what? I've only ever killed, because our family made sure of it. The only time that i’ve ever hurt somebody was when I was fifteen years old and handed a goddamn revolver." Dex hesitated, feeling an unsteadiness coarse through his veins as he admitted "never once as a wolf. Take a look at what the OEA has done to the city. What you have been a part of. Who's the real monsters, Lainey?” 

A scoff passed Dex’s lips, exasperated by just how desperately Delainey believed herself. “What does that mean for you? How much blood has been on your hands? Those basic vampires were people too. Are still people.” Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he continued to make his point. “What about the others? Witches, the untriggered wolves? What are they?” lifting his hands he shrugged “let me guess, just a means to an end? Because you don’t care, do you? Any of you. For you, it’s just a sport. A game if you’re anything like mom” his tone dropped to a dramatic whisper “it’s a thrill. But it’s wrong Delainey. You’re wrong.”  

Dex kew that fighting Delainey’s beliefs was a losing battle, but the harder she pushed - the harder he found himself pushing back. “What fifteen year old choses to be on the run?” there was spite in his words, but the subject had been one that remained untouched until now. “Your father packed me a bag and handed me whatever cash he had in his wallet” the wolf’s features hardened, his own words causing for his chest to ache “but hey, at least he gave me a head start before he’d come looking. Believe what you want, Lainey. I’d hate for you to lose another family member.” 

A moment was needed for Dex to find a middle ground, calming himself in the process, but Delainey’s explanation for her life didn’t offer him that. He should have been able to talk to his own flesh and blood about the family he had made for himself, but he chose not to. “I moved around. Slept rough through most of my teenage years, but I found somebody who took pity on me. Straightened me up, got me an education. Then I moved here.”

They were strangers, Laine reminded herself. He was not the fifteen year old boy who she watched walk out the door with their mother and grandfather. I want to go with you. The words so soft and naive echoed from the recesses of her mind. First how she'd said it to Dex, and then how she had repeated it over their mother's grave. He was not the same, and neither was she. In reality, did they know each other at all? She wasn't sure the answer to the question or what she wanted it to be. "You're too emotional," she said, unsure who she was talking to: Dex or herself.

It was a mark of pride, a rite of passage, though often covered by her long, brunette hair, she always knew it was there. Everything about it had defined who she was: a hunter, a killer, a warrior. Even getting it, she knew Dex would hate it, and the expression he wore was exactly as she'd imagined...just on a much older face. "How is killing monsters not protecting?" She argued, ready as ever to defend her beliefs. "Take even the most basic of vampires, one who has been turned against their will. One you'd probably call innocent. They are cursed with a blood lust, so they try to control it. One day, they go too far, they lose control. Their snack becomes a full meal. That's one life unnecessarily taken. One life that vampire's death could have saved, even if that's the only life they ever take. But if we eradicate vampires before that person is ever turned, we've then saved two lives. Realistically, though, have you ever met a vampire who's only had one kill? Most have way more than that, and if we look at the Old Ones, the numbers are exponentially larger." She had absorbed everything, every bit of ideology, and she held fast to it all. "That's not senseless, Dex. Even one life is worth protecting. There are people who are alive today because of the monsters we've killed."

What was she even trying to convince him of? It was a sinking sensation deep in her gut. He couldn't join them, even if her words brought him around to her point of view. Their--her father would never allow it. The OEA wouldn't allow it. They were fated into their opposing sides. He couldn't come to her now, and she couldn't go with him. "I was there, you weren't," she snipped back as he accused her father. There had been crying, plenty of it, and she was mostly certain it wasn't all hers. He had held her, brought her comfort until it was enough. Dex's next words brought her world to an end a stop. Her lips briefly parting to argue, but she had no points to make. She had just made the same realization: a werewolf had no place among hunters. Her countenance wavered, knees threatening to give out, breath caught in her throat. "I don't believe you," she lied, though it was not her most convincing act, "you were fifteen, he'd have done something for you." That was farfetched, even for all the bullshit she was used to delivering.

Popping the cork, Laine eyed her brother as he looked over her records. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, but she didn't stop him. It wasn't like he was going to give up on finding a heart in her one way or another. Or maybe he was, maybe this was their first and last visit. She thought he'd come back once, and she didn't intend to make the same mistake twice.

"Few years," she answered vaguely, "this is where the action is. Most places are all maintenance or guarding the already captured now. This is the warzone. More visibility, promotion potential, monsters to get off the streets. New Orleans has it all." Taking a glass out of the cabinet, her back is never turned from him long. Not exactly the warm and fuzzy trust most siblings share. "What about you? Is that what we're doing? How long have we been walking around each other?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

The woman who stood before him was unrecognisable and that had been a fear that Dex had reflected on continuously over the years. He remembered a girl who had been full of light and wonder, but he could see for himself that any shred of life had been all but choked out of her. He had feared for the person that she would be forced to become and for that, he was responsible. It seemed as though their conversation had no intentions of becoming easier and Delainey's harsh words caused him to shift uncomfortably, his gaze wavering from her own in a display of his own weakness and he couldn't find the words to argue. Perhaps because he knew that she was right.  

His attentions were recaptured as his sister lifted her ponytail, revealing her tattoo to him. His stomach tightened, knotting at the idea that her first ever kill had been branded on her for the rest of her life. How twisted their family truly was. Dex shook his head, defiant in his protest as he countered her statement. “No. Hunters are only ever supposed to protect the people who need protecting.” He had wholeheartedly believed that there were some species who called to be put into order, mainly vampires who sought enjoyment from the slaughter, or wolves who were far too gone within their own rage to see sense. “Senseless killing was never supposed to be a part of the deal, that makes us no better than them.” 

A lump rose in the back of his throat, coming to the sudden realisation that there was no us and them. It was Delainey against Dex, hunters against the supernatural. The idea made his skin ache. As Delainey spoke of her father, Dex’s gaze hardened and his features became rigid. “He mourned for her? give me a break” a scoff fled his lungs “he was more than happy to let her son die. I tried to reach out to him, I wanted to come home” an unsteady hand rose to tug through his hair as he fought to suppress the unnerving memories “but he made sure that I never could.” 

The constant back and forth as if they were on a battlefield was painful to be a part of and a far cry from their childhoods. As Delainey headed through into the kitch, Dex took the opportunity to take a much needed breather. His mind was reeling, but he forced himself to find a focus, drawn towards the record player in the corner of the apartment. 

His digits traced atop of the records, noting how well maintained they were and for a moment he felt relieved for the display of humanity. He wondered if any of the records had been things of his that she had kept, but he concluded that it was more likely she had burned them. 

He shook his head at her offer and although he hated himself for it, he couldn’t trust that it wouldn’t be laced with something. “No, i’m fine” the wolf cleared his throat as he glanced back over his shoulder before questioning “how long have you been in New Orleans?”

The stories of reunions were everywhere in the whispers on the streets, joyous, conflicted, whatever they may be. However, this loss had been one of choice. Not witches, not death. Not really, anyway. They could have been reunited way before now, if different choices were made. He had always had a good read on her, not that it was hard to do as a child, but the way he looked at her now, she feared he could still do it. Especially as he spoke the truth of it over her. The worst thing that could happen to her happened when she was eight years old, after that, what else could touch her? "I don't need your apologies," she remarked, "I went where he went, so it was only natural that when he died...so would I. Save your guilt, she always had to die. This isn't a world for little girls."

His gaze bothered her, knowing exactly what he was doing. In many ways, she had no idea who her brother was anymore, but in others, she still understood him. Shaking her head, she gave him an unspoken indicator that she was dead, and there would be nothing for him to find. Lifting her ponytail, Laine turned her head so Dex could get a glimpse of the back of her neck where an XV was inked into her skin. "Same age," she confirmed, not sure if that gave him any comfort that she wasn't younger. Whether it was better or worse he had more time to come back and save her before blood stained her hands too. "I trained, I prepared for the day, and I feel no remorse. Hunters are born for blood on their hands." Recounting her childhood, the weaponization of self it had become, it only drained emotion from her voice as if reprogramming. She survived because she didn't let things like death and a lost brother get to her. Oh, how she cursed his returning now. Without his own surprise and pain, she'd almost be convinced this was done on purpose to try to weaken her. "Dad mourned for her, there's no way he would have let her die," she argued with more confidence than maybe she had. It was what she wanted to believe.

A scoff and the slightest smirk, she was aware of him too. He didn't trust her any more than she trusted him, which made him smart. Good, that would serve him well. "I really hope you don't," she piled on, "because now you can wait for someone who's never coming back."

For someone who didn't rely on her emotions, she knew how to prod into others'. It was a weakness, her father would always say. If you could fight without emotion, it could never be used against you. She shouldn't have revealed what she did, to have admitted she'd have done anything for Dex. It was all the more important to keep every reminder to the forefront the girl who would have done that was dead. She wouldn't die to be at his side now nor protect him. Or would she? He was on his own. "That's what makes us different," she finished. No more needed to be said about it.

Time would not rewind, salvation would not come. As she led the way to her space, she took the opportunity to remind herself: he did not come for you. Even now, he had not actually been looking for her. If she had not spotted him, would he have walked away?

Her apartment was nearly as blank a canvas as it had been when she moved in. A couch, a chair, a singular end table, and a coffee table with neatly stacked files as if it was more desk than a place for gathering around. The only display of personality was a shelf full of old records next to a record player in the corner. The bedroom door was closed, but it wasn't any more full.

"It's an apartment," she corrected, as if home was too generous a word, "but I guess." Walking into the kitchen that was open to the living room, separated only by an island, she muttered, "I have water or wine. Do you want something?" Pulling out a bottle of wine for herself, she turned briefly to him, "you wanted to talk, so whenever you're ready."

[fragmcntedsouls]

It would have been easier for the both of them if their paths hadn’t crossed. It seemed cruel now to dredge up the tragic telling's of their entwined past, but Dex had always known that it couldn’t be avoided forever. Despite the walls that he himself had built, he had never been able to completely block out his emotions. Even more so after having triggered and especially in the first few years, instability was all he really had. And so now, to hear the words from his own sister he could feel his heart twisting in his chest as if she herself had threatened to rip it out and in many ways, she just had. “Maybe he did. But now I can see that you died with him and I am so sorry for that.”

He continued to watch her with unnerving precision, almost willing for signs that the girl he knew was still in there. It didn't matter how deeply she was buried, he just had to see. “What age were you when you first took a life, huh? Did they wait, were you fifteen too? Were you younger?” A tremor affected Dex’s voice and he felt as though the words had gotten caught in his throat. “I was fifteen with blood on my hands, fifteen being punished for our mothers mistake.” That was all he was in the eyes of his family and Dex had often wondered if their mother hadn’t of died that day, whether her own father would have killed her for her indiscretions, or Delainey's for that fact. “They wouldn’t have let her live either way, me or her. You know that just as well as I do. I was no more of a danger than they were.” 

Dex’s gaze hardened as Delainey stepped closer and although it pained him to do so, he had to anticipate her next movements. Tension caused for his frame to ache, but instead of an attack - Delainey had a far more effective method of hurting him. Dex’s jaw tightened and a part of him just wanted to grab his sister and shake the sense into her, but instead he simply countered in a similar tone “I don’t believe you.”

He had to hand it to her though, she honestly was her fathers daughter and she knew exactly how to push the right buttons.

The wolf could feel his heart plummet into his stomach, causing for him to feel nauseous but he fought the sensation with everything he had. The worst part was, he knew that she was right. He should have returned for her, but his cowardice saw to it that he didn’t. And now instead of fighting her, of hiding behind an excuse, his eyes found hers and in a broken tone he didn’t know he was capable of, he whispered “I know.” 

As Delainey turned from him, he was thankful for the fact that he had to be discrete and remain at a distance as for a moment he simply couldn’t move. Their altercation had left him reeling and the shock of such had hindered any intention of motion. He waited for the coast to be inconspicuous, before finally opting to follow on. 

Once at the apartment and both having ensured that nobody had seen them, Dex stepped inside once permitted and immediately felt out of his depth. He had hoped that inside would be signs of a life, one that he had prayed his little sister had led, but from first glance it lacked the clarification he sought. In silence, he simply stood in the middle of the room, slowly looking towards Delainey as finally he felt capable of speaking "so this is home?"

Dammit. Did he have any idea how hard this life was to build? To strangle childlike wonder out of her with her own hands? She had made herself, and he just got to waltz back in and put cracks in her walls like it was nothing. "I don't slip," she snapped, despite the lack of truth of that in this particular moment. "Just because the brother I knew is dead doesn't mean I didn't have one."

She shook her head in response to his disdain for the word that had meant something to her. "You would find that funny," she commented, eyes narrowing. In her chest, the recounting of memory brought an ache, though she would not let it reach her features. Pain, a broken heart, those were things she did not allow. She would not allow. "You were a danger, Dex, you had triggered. What was he supposed to do? Let you attack him? Nobody wanted that, but it's not our fault that your bastard of a father tricked Mom." Of course in the last twenty five years, they had become the bad guys, and the wolf who didn't disclose he was one must have been an angel, some sort of star-crossed lover to their mother. The whole idea made her sick.

Everything was controlled, compartmentalized, with the kind of perfect accuracy that made her great at her job. But in one moment, she felt completely out of control. What kind of life would she have had if he'd come back for her? Would she end up like Jordyn Simmons? Having a litter of some werewolf's babies? Preaching all the kumbaya shit like monsters didn't kill humans everyday, as if they had a right to take life as it was in their nature? Steeling up, she took a step closer to her brother, steadying and lowering her voice, she looked him straight in the eye with full conviction as she said, "I don't have a heart."

Good. Now it was his turn to hurt. He could feel a hint of the agony she'd felt all those years ago while he was off making a brand new life for himself as if she never existed. Well, that was fine by her, because she killed that little girl anyway. "Yes," she answered, clipped and matter-of-fact, "the monsters. That's what they are. What do you want me to call them? Puppies and people with pointy teeth?" They were going to make a scene, which was the last thing either wanted. It didn't suit for anybody to be drawing attention right now.

She wanted to scream, even though she wasn't sure she knew how to do that anymore. Instead, in a leveled but fierce response, Laine made another confession, "I'd have died." Though her face showed little, her words carried the weight of the honest belief in her words. "I would have died to come back for you." She didn't deny his assessment because she did know he was right, but she didn't allow him an out either. "I'm sure you would hate that," she scoffed, "you wouldn't just love me living your life, right?" She wouldn't deny that either, what a perceived sympathizer could expect. Turning around, she marched off, knowing he'd follow and hopefully be subtle about it. Taking the long way to get to her apartment, which might as well be secret for her lack of company, she pulled out her key, unlocked the door, and stepped aside so he could enter while she took one more look to make sure no one saw.

[fragmcntedsouls]

“Funny” Dex mumbled beneath his breath as Laine took her seat, but before she did – he cast a cautionary glance to their surroundings. The last thing either of them needed was prying eyes. “I just – I need time, Lainey. This isn’t exactly an easy ask." His gaze caught hers and a sigh escaped his lips, "but something tells me that you aren't exactly asking, either."

Leaning closer, his voice dropped almost to a whisper and any facade had since faded from his features. "I need you to tell me that I can trust you with this." Right now, he was nothing more than a brother who needed his sister. He hesitated, waiting for her response before giving up the answer to her question. “We have a daughter.” Perhaps the secret wasn’t entirely his to share – but he couldn’t tell anybody else just yet and maybe he was naïve to assume that Laine wouldn’t use this against him, but he hoped that she wouldn’t. “That’s what we were talking about.”

What does a sister have to do around here to get her brother to do something so simple for her. She even compromised, found him a very common ground. Sure, their--her father had warped hunting for him, but it was still a need in this world. Yet, she couldn't force him to join her. She needed him to believe in it too.

"I'm starting to understand why you still aren't married," Laine remarked as she took the available seat, "an answer before I'm gray would be nice, but you can keep avoiding it for now. I can't stay long anyway. I saw you with Eve at the carnival, what did she say?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

“Consider me relieved” Dex crossed his arms against his chest as if within an act of defiance “I thought you would have denied me as your brother by now, or maybe you have and that was just a slip in your defences.”

Delaineys mention of their family caused for a scoff to flee his lungs and Dex drove the toe of his boot into the grave kicking up dust “family, that’s funny - real funny.” Ever since that fateful day, he'd come to fear his family, fear everything they were capable of and the monster they saw him as. Dex's expression appeared pained as he looked directly towards his sister and his voice wavered unsteadily as he spoke “that family, our family tried to kill me. I was fifteen, Lainey and dear old pops aimed his gun right at me and he would have pulled the trigger without so much as a second thought. So forgive me for not sharing the same family values as you clearly do.” 

Dex refused to believe that Delainey was too far gone. Perhaps it was his guilt talking for ever having left her behind, but what other alternatives did he have? He couldn’t be a fifteen year old werewolf on the run with his kid sister, hell he barely survived himself for the first few years. It shamed him, but hunting had been all he had known and so that was how he made his money until he had enough to move on. He watched carefully as a momentary lapse in her defences made itself known and for a second he felt hope. But the moment was fleeting and he could physically see the walls being rebuilt. “Nobody would choose this” he countered harshly, “nobody with a damn heart anyway.”

A humourless chuckle urged from his lungs, but the sound was harsh and it was clear that she had wounded him “what side is that, huh? The monsters, right? That’s what our family used to say. Sorry, what your family used to say.”  The intensity of the moment had caused for Dex’s frame to tense and he had to remind himself that no good would come of them losing their tempers with one another, or at least not in such a public setting.

He purposely lowered his voice, still clearly wounded by her words. “They would have killed me. You know that, because right now you want to do the same.” As Delainey agreed that they could go somewhere and talk, the wolf suppressed an eye roll for her having given orders and simply nodded his head. “Guess i'll just have to take my chances. I'd just hate for you to be in the bad books of your commander."

If she let herself, Laine could have walked down a dozen paths of how life could have been different. If she hadn't been made to grow up without a mother, without a big brother. Those were useless thoughts, dreams that could never been realized, and she didn't like to waste time.

He had his excuses, no doubt, but Delainey didn't want them. What did he think that would do? Save her? She didn't need saving. "Shame, I only got one," she snipped, not sure if he really did have other siblings out there. Maybe he did find whoever his dad was and found a poundful of pups on that side to stick around for.

His assessment of her stung, though he didn't say anything untrue. His approval didn't mean shit, so he shouldn't have the power to cause her any pain. Yet, her jaw tightened, and she responded dryly, "family business. You know the ones that stayed." Normally stoic, an impenetrable facade, her eyes briefly flickered with expressiveness. Kiddo. She hadn't been kiddo in a long time, a lifetime. "But I've chosen this for myself," she clarified, as the wall returned over the weaker parts of her soul, "I believe in what the OEA stands for, can you say the same for your side?"

Looking around, she checked for anyone watching. "I shouldn't even be talking to you now," she muttered, though offering no sympathy for his own pain. Turning back to him, she questioned, "are you going to try to sell me some bullshit that you couldn't come back, didn't mean to leave me forever? Because I don't believe you were choiceless, there's always choice." But, nonetheless, she sighed and relented, "okay. I know a place. Follow me but don't look like you're following me. I'm sure you can be sneaky. And you're just going to have to trust that I won't shoot you because I'm making no promises."

[fragmcntedsouls]

The look on their mothers face when she had realised just what her first born was, was one that still kept Dex awake at night. He’d never seen an expression like it and never wanted to again. The horror, the pain in her eyes - he’d replayed it a thousand times over in his mind and despite what he was, despite the pledge she had made to her family, their mother hadn’t hesitated to protect him. 

After her death, Dex had seen no other option but to run. His own grandfather had been seconds from trying to kill him and so returning to Delainey wasn’t realistic. They were both so young at the time, Dex could only hope that her memory wouldn’t hold onto him, but over the years he’d continued to hold on to her. 

“Noted, i’ll be sure to work on that for the next time that I run into a sibling.” The words pained him and he could feel a tightness forming in his chest as his heart threatened to skip a beat. She was the very image of their mom, but there was no comfort for him in that notion. His brow lifted, before dismissing her sharp retort with humourless laughter of his own. “Can’t say i’ve ever been accused of that, but i'm starting to think you couldn’t be either." The wolf gestured towards his sisters uniform "the OEA huh? you really aimed high there, kiddo.”

Dex had often wondered what story their grandfather had spun upon his return from that trip. He was certain that whatever the outcome, Dex would have been seen as the villain and the responsible party for his mothers death. “Laine” his voice was weak as he said her name, clearly pained by her tone. “That isn’t - that’s not what happened. Can we just, go somewhere to talk? you know, preferably without you trying to stick a bullet in my chest.”

Only seconds had likely passed, minutes at most, but it felt eternal. She had waited by the window for days, weeks, and all the while their father--her father--had told her he wouldn't appear. She couldn't remember when she'd finally stopped looking, but she had. Her brother had left her, her father hadn't. That made who to listen to an easy decision. Now, here he stood.

"Did you have one planned? Because your attempt has been pretty lame so far," Laine countered, biting back against the familiarity of his sarcasm. She had spent her life building, and he wasn't going to tear it all down because he accidentally stepped into her path. Shaking her head, she wasn't delusional enough to believe he'd come looking for her. This was happenstance. "Villainous monologue?" She repeated, a humorless laugh following. "Wow, Saint Dex, I didn't realize I was in the presence of someone so holy."

She hadn't bothered to put much of a veil over what she meant. Their mother, the one parent they did share, had died saving him, and it hadn't been something she'd ever forgotten. Or forgiven. The look on his face said he hadn't forgiven himself either. "I think you were the one who pretended you didn't have a family first, Dexy. You remember? Like 25 years ago? Let's not play big brother now, it's beneath you."

[fragmcntedsouls]

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips given Laine’s dry comment, if she was willing to taunt then so was he “didn’t think i’d hear you refer to yourself as my sister out loud again, obviously i’m doing something right.” That last part might have been a step too far, though and he cleared his throat, offering a slightly apologetic expression. So much had changed between both of them over the course of twenty five years and there was still so much in their lives that was subjective to change – but Dex wanted Delainey to be a part of his life, no matter how deeply that might complicate matters for both. His gaze found hers at the sound of what seemed to be laughter, before his brow creased as she fought to conceal the sound. Even so, he understood – but it had been nice to hear again. He realised that it was probably a rarity for her now. Had been since he’d left her behind. He wondered if her father ever made her laugh, or cooked her favorite meal. Stopped in a toy store to buy her a stuffed animal that he knew she’d love or took her for ice cream. All these things that Dex had done in their youth to try and replicate some kind of normal childhood. How desperately he hoped that her father had done that for her, but he feared the man had not. Refocusing on her statement, he nodded knowing that she was taunting him and whilst he should agree to said statement, he did “yeah – maybe we do.”

There was a surge of discomfort that ran through his frame at her confirmation, his gaze urging away from hers as he nodded – having anticipated the response anyway, but it didn’t mean that it hurt any less. The only real redemption was her wishing that he hadn’t been there – or more so, wishing that she could have prevented his invite, the extension of an olive branch. “I believe you” he stated simply and he did. His eyes closed momentarily as she spoke of the message and Dex muttered beneath a breath, “an eye for an eye, little corny wasn’t it?” before shaking his head and sighing as she spoke of the story. “You say them, as if you’re not including me in that, Laine. Every full moon, every single bone in my body breaks and reforms, before breaking again. This happens for hours, sometimes it's quicker, sometimes slower. Depends on my mental state at the time, I guess. But I didn’t chose that. I was born that way and I only triggered when our family took me on a hunting trip. I could have gone my whole life, not knowing what our mother did. Not knowing that I wasn’t – ” a shaky sigh urged from his lips, swallowing the lump that had risen in the back of his throat, eager to move on. “It was a massacre, Laine. How else do you expect us to react? I killed yours, like you killed mine. Eye for an eye."

The reminder of their rightful sides caused for his chest to ache, the anguish clear from his expression as his glassy eyes gazed into those of his sisters who so resembled their mother. The woman who despite knowing what her son was, despite knowing of her own indiscretion – fought to protect him from their own. “I care about you. Doesn’t that count for anything?” Oh how she sounded like her father. “You aren’t some empty vessel. A face without an identity, a name – or a damn family who loves you, a brother who loves you.” There was too much off about her response, it was too well rehearsed as though she’d practised in it a mirror countless times before and he yearned to drop the subject completely.

“Green’s for rabbits” he countered, sighing again as he tugged his fingers through his hair, “but I can deal with that.” Peering around the island counter and into the refrigerator, he pressed his palms firmly against it as he leaned over “i’ll take the red" before a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, "hold off on the poison at least until after dinner."

"This was a horrible idea, but if you were going to bother your friends with your problems, you wouldn't be here," Laine didn't fully let up on her taunting, something he could always use a little more of in his life, "that's apparently something you reserve for your sister." She knew deep down there was more to his visit, an ache to be that big brother he'd failed to be over the last twenty-five years. It may be too little too late, but there was an ache of her own growing to have just a glimmer of this back. She loved no one more, unfortunately something that banshee bitch knew now, but it was nothing she could ever say.

A sound escaped her that eerily resembled a laugh, though she was quick to clear her throat to hide it. "I piss off lots of people," she commented, rather proudly in fact. "Maybe we do have something in common."

The question about the gala was expected, and it brought her more stoic nature to the forefront. He'd asked her not to answer, but she did anyway. She'd told him from their reunion forward exactly who she was. "I did. You don't want to know a lot of things I've done and am doing, and you should. If I could have arranged for you not to be there, I would have, but it couldn't be done. We had to send a message. Do you remember that story about the magician who was attacked by one of his tigers? Raised them from cubs, claimed they had a bond full of trust, and yet, one wrong move and a natural instinct in the tiger took over. You can love them, Dex, and you can trust them, but you come between them and what they want or you back them in a corner, and you see instinct-driven behavior. You see a massacre. Do you see it now?"

They had so quickly fallen into pushing each other's buttons, back to each trying to prove their own side. She hated how right he sounded though, after all her work, she should be in a higher position than she was. Yet, it was exactly what she was engrained to believe. "I don't need them to care about me," she snapped, "I know the game. Better than anyone, which is why I deserve it. I know I'm replaceable, but that's what makes us powerful. We are more than individuals. You all have names, families, bonds, little parties in the bayou the kids think we don't know about. You have something to lose. We don't. We are protectors, and we exist beyond what you can see, what you can reach out and touch. It's why you can't beat us. And it's only making your side angrier, more dangerous, which will make us grow. Monsters will always make themselves known." He pushed, so she hoped he liked the answer. The facts as she presented them. "Green would be good for you," she mused, letting their disagreement go for now, "but I can meet you half-way, nothing too greasy." Glancing over her shoulder as she reached her wine fridge, "white or red?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

The entire city had been left on edge given the invitation, but Dex seemingly more so than most. His sole intention from the moment of stepping inside had been to search for his sister, but he understood entirely what dangers could arise from that intention for the pair of them.

Their reunion had left him raw and wounds had been scoured open; leaving him to bleed out slowly. He'd spent sleepless nights since, wondering if their encounter had taken the same effect on her too.

The sound of her voice brought with it both relief and despair, the callous tone that she had since adopted so effortlessly ringing unpleasantly in his ears. Still, and maybe even foolishly it didn't matter. Beneath it all, he still heard her.

The tension rolled off of him as if within physical waves "I don't understand any of this. Why are we here, Laine?" For a split second as his eyes found hers, he became entirely transparent. Each and every vulnerability plain for his sibling to see. "Or is it Ms. Moore now?"

Ever since her encounter with the banshee, Laine had been desperate to see him. She was aware it was a hallucination, but there was an unease in her soul regardless, one that would not be satisfied until her brother was in view and alive. Seeing him there at the door, she felt instantly lighter, so much so that even a smile pulled at her lips and her feet bounced off the floor. He came back.

Then she stopped, remembering herself. As quickly as it appeared, the smile vanished, the spark in her eyes dulled once more. Delainey became Laine again. "That won't be necessary," she stated dryly, assuring him as well as the security, "this one likes to abuse sarcasm. We promised a truce, and this is us making sure we get one. You understand that, don't you, Mr. Vane?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

“That’s cute” Dex muttered beneath his breath, his head shaking as her taunts refrained from ending there, “you know what? this was a bad idea – maybe I will hit up one of those friends.” Even if he wouldn’t admit it though, there was a part of him glad for the excuse to come and check in with Laine, even if that excuse had been orchestrated by the threat of the OEA. 

His eyes rolled as her hand was pressed firmly against his forehead, his hand reaching for her wrist as he pushed her away, although the action was playful “don’t be an ass, besides isn’t pissing off witches your job?” 

The reminder of the gala coaxed a scoff from his lips, his gaze refocusing upon Laine as he stated “yeah, about that – you left a few important details out of your tour, Laine." A hesitant breath followed, leaning himself back against the counter as he asked "did you know?” As soon as the words had left his lips, he had regretted them and his head shook, having answered that himself before she even had to, “on second thought, don’t answer that. I don’t think I want to know.”

A scoff eventually turned into laughter, shoulders rolling as he murmured “yeah, that’s not going to happen. He can save his questions, stick em up his ass for all I care.” The sigh was anticipated, if not somewhat antagonised, but Laine was quick to shoot that back at him with the mention of her father “I’m aware.” His chin tilted, jaw tightening as she stopped herself – clearly feeling as though she had said too much and perhaps that was an angle for him to work. “That isn’t how the game works, Laine. You can work your ass off for them, work yourself into a grave and it still won’t count for shit. They don’t care about you, but I don’t need to remind you of that, do I?” His words wouldn’t be taken lightly, he knew that and he also knew that he was entering dangerous territory. Opting to leave that untouched for now, he shook his head, scratching his fingers against his chin, his lips twitching in response towards her quip “wine and a couch for the night suit me just fine. We are getting take out though, because I don't believe that there isn't anything not green in that refrigerator."

Shooting him a glance, she quirked a brow as if she wasn't buying it. "With that attitude? Shocking," she retorted, a barely there tug against the corner of one side of her lips, "I thought telling someone how to live was a me thing, but I guess you must do it with everybody."

Bringing the back of her hand to his forehead as if to check for fever, she quipped, "piss any witches off lately?" She was deflecting, rather valiantly actually. It didn't suit her if her brother genuinely cared, genuinely wanted to spend time with her. They couldn't sit here--in the safety of her apartment--and hang out. Do whatever siblings do when they visit one another. That time had past, died with the little girl she was when he left. Right? "He knew you were at the gala, probably saw you going full Mission Impossible," she stated matter-of-factly, "so I'm sure he has some questions for you."

A sigh pushed from her lungs, letting him know she was displeased with his choice to go down that path. "Of course I can," she snipped, even as she knew there was plenty she hadn't told her father. "Nearly all I am came from him. We may not always agree on everything, and I may not tell him everything but we have trust. Was I pissed he didn't pass on the higher ups escape route to me? Sure. I have earned one of those positions a dozen times over. I could run circles around Simmons, Alvarez, and Dad, but no, I couldn't even get Jordan's job." She had said too much, so she simply stopped and hoped he'd let that be that. "I would have gone to the store if I knew you were going to invite yourself over," she shot back, "water and wine suits me fine, and it's just me. So you want water or wine or should I pop out to the store with a list of drinks and snacks to make you more comfortable? Get you one of those air mattresses too?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

The look on Delaineys face had been all of the confirmation that Dex had needed and he was certain that in that exact moment, their expression’s mirrored one another's. Neither looked as they had been preserved in their memories, but it was funny how after all this time instinct simply knew.

“Well, there goes the need for an ice breaker” sarcastic remarks had been something that he had hidden behind since he was young, which more often than not came inappropriately timed. “I take it from that villainous monologue that you are a cat person” the retired hunter gave a roll of his shoulders “I guess that tracks.”

It was unnerving how with no weapons she had gone straight for the jugular, her callous words striking Dex like a stern slap to the cheek. Their mothers death had been an occurrence that had haunted him and continued to do so to this day. "Mr Vane's a little formal, isn't it Lainey?"

She had been shaped, molded, into everything he wasn't. Everything he would hate. It wasn't something Laine was unaware of, but she didn't hate who she'd become. The little girl who cried? She died with her mother, vanished with her brother. All that was left were ghosts and shadows hidden deep in her soul.

If they could sway the masses, keep the devotion of the humans, then they wouldn't drown. The blow the coven dealt in their slimy double-cross, and the aftermath of their poor planning, could be minimized. And it would.

Her blood froze in her veins, the heart missing a solid beat, as she saw his face. He looked older, but the eyes were the same. She could almost see the silly faces across the dining room table or hear a hushed bedtime story well past actual bedtime. Strange how memory worked, she'd long believed she'd forgotten all of those things.

"It's a game of wolves, isn't it?" She countered, her voice giving nothing away. "All stealth and lies. Killing and who does it better, smarter, faster. It's nothing personal, Mr. Vane, sometimes people have to die so others can live, right?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

Dex’s history was something that he rarely spoke of, but his was a past that couldn’t be outrun. He had decided to believe that his choices had been made for him, but that was never enough to ease the guilt that lay heavily upon his conscience. For years he had worked tirelessly to shed the skin of the monster he feared lurked beneath, but each day still brought with it a reminder of those he had hurt.

The OEA were his enemy, but he could still think like them which in many ways had worked in his favor. He had predicted that they would be out in their masses promising their falsities to the naïve, but what had blindsided him, was that his own flesh and blood would be their voice.

Upon first glance, the familiar image of the woman had been haunting but he had tried to convince himself that her resemblance to his own mother was just a coincidence. But lawyer or not, his argument wasn't compelling.

Dex hadn't realised that his stare had been caught, perhaps his subtlety had lost its edge and he had intended to pass through the crowd, but it was clear that Delainey had other ideas.

Until he could know for certain who she was, he couldn't afford to give much away. Her remark cut through his defences like a blade and he felt forced to retort. "A wolf in sheep's clothing" inhaling a sharp breath through his teeth he added "that's ironic."

( @exitiumstarters )

"We are not gone," she assured an innocent, "and I promise we will keep you safe. Just keep your trust in us. Stay inside where you can, and the storm will pass. These creatures will be defeated." Laine had hated the shadows, trapped in hiding, but they had no other choice. They'd have been slaughtered if they'd gone in without a plan. They needed to know the new stats, pull everything together. However, the last thing Laine wanted was to see the people of New Orleans turn away or lose hope in what the OEA could do for them, so she'd returned to the streets to offer reassurance. Be a beacon of hope, an ambassador to the people.

Stepping away from the crowd, she spotted someone watching her. "Bet you liked that, huh?"