[he mumbles, because generally a response to an untimely interruption doesn't involve copious amounts of strangling while hissing don't fucking interrupt me in someone's face. If Nate sleeps hard enough, if the dreams allow it, he can sometimes feel the flecks of saliva on his cheek, a twisted expression hanging over his own like a fucking night terror out of a Goya painting.
Here Rafe is passive, bordering on submissive, staring down at Nate's shirt and the red bleeding through damp fabric. It's an agony to watch because Rafe doesn't do this and Nate knows it, has seen the way he never backs down, never apologizes, never makes amends. A cutthroat businessman humbling himself after a brief period of stalker-like behavior.
Nate doesn't want to forgive him. He really doesn't.]
Can we just...cut the crap? The whole small-talk thing? [There's a beat, while Nate gathers his druthers.] I'm healed up, it just bruised a little. I got scared. I left the camp. I came here.
You followed me here. For what answers, Rafe? You knew why I left. You had to know that.
[ As much as Rafe is grateful to be spared muddling through more bullshit that hardly means anything, Nate's question unceremoniously drags him out into a spot that is just as uncomfortable. ]
I came because—
[ He stops short, because he sure as hell doesn't have an answer. Not any that he can put into words, not any that he understands. A year ago this would've had Rafe laughing because there was always an answer and he always had it, cut and dry and pat as anything. Not for the first time he asks himself what the hell happened. ]
...Because I owed you as much. [ Forgetting anything else that may or may not have been between them, Nate was a partner. Rafe may be cutthroat in the boardroom, ready and willing and able to do what he could to win, but there was still a code. You watch out for each other, bring each other along, don't stab each other in the back. Or...strangle each other, as the case may be. The clear lesson to take from all this is he's better off working alone; his track record for partners is abysmal so far. ] You deserved better.
[ The passivity flickers away behind a nasty frown, thoughts trailing back up to Flynn's flat where the prick is waiting for Nate. It isn't any of Rafe's business — never was, probably, given he'd never had a legitimate claim in the first place — who Nate bends over for now but the idea galls him too much to accept it. ]
You can't- You can't pull that, Rafe. I know he broke your fuckin' nose, but Harry is- I mean, he's an okay guy, and I've worked with him before, he's just...
[Nate can't even muster an attempt at an excuse, having already picked up on the inherent disliked just based on his knowledge of both parties. He knows them both, he's fucked them both, and while they're not equals in a lot of respects they're still good at doing what they do.
They're all assholes, in their own ways.]
I dunno, he was there after I ran away. Didn't really have the guts to face Sully after that argument. He never wanted me to work with you.
[Silent for a long moment that transcends awkwardness and plateaus into something too sad, too worn for someone in his mid-twenties, Nate sighs through his nose. It's a very pretty thought, to imagine that he's earned more than this. That there isn't something slightly masochistic about the situations in which he keeps placing himself.]
I don't really deserve much more than what I have.
Bullshit, [ is the immediate denial as Rafe rolls his eyes and does his best to talk over Nate before he gets too far into it. ] and it's nothing to do with that—
[ But Nate keeps speaking and Rafe's fingers twitch around the damp shirt he's still twisting because fucking interruptions don't you dare interrupt me but no. No. He can wait even if he's boiling over and spikes again hearing what Nate thinks he deserves. ]
You're one of the best in this business and Flynn's track record proves him second-rate, at best. You've done more in less time, you're smarter than he is, and you could find better work anywhere else, legitimate or not, partnered with anyone else. If not Sullivan then somebody who wouldn't just be taking advantage because he knows the asset they'd landed with you.
[ One of the few virtues Rafe has is his honesty. Maybe he's blunt to the point of cruel, but he's never said a thing he didn't mean and never given praise that wasn't earned and then some. ]
What does it even matter what Victor thought of me after— Christ. [ It's no surprise to hear Sullivan disapproved of him; the old man could join a long and varied club there and put in for a jacket. He can't imagine why Nate wouldn't have gone back to him with the story of one more rich boy playing around where he had no right to. ] If you needed it, I'd have set you up with contacts. Introductions. A fucking plane to... Instead of just walking out.
[ That last line is the only place Rafe's all-business tone starts to fade, for something close to what Nate says to surface but bleaker. More resigned. Just because he's telling the truth doesn't mean he doesn't realize just what he'd screwed himself out of. He'll keep looking for Avery (doesn't know how to stop) but it'll be harder without Nate there. ]
I wouldn't have partnered up with you if you weren't better than this. And better than that asshole back there.
[Bullshit and Nate almost stares at him in shock. Rafe picks up his tangent quickly and steamrolls any opportunity for a reply, his fingers tightening in Nate's shirt, his enunciation crisp and direct. He means what he says and he says what he means, which is more than can be admitted about the grand majority of people, but that doesn't make the truth any easier to swallow.
Harry Flynn knows that Nate has talent, Harry Flynn is a decent hand at his own job, Harry Flynn likes fucking Nate: these are all facts.
Harry Flynn taking advantage of Nate feeling like he has nowhere else to go? Maybe, yeah.
Yeah.]
You partnered up with me because Sam died, [Nate replies calmly.] Because you didn't have a choice. I was like a...Diet Avery Expert.
[Call a spade a spade - Nate isn't about to pretend their original arrangement wasn't just for convenience's sake. Rafe had to make do with a replacement and Nate was adrift in his own cluttered thoughts, a mess of misdirection and exhaustion, struggling to carry the burden that was his grief.]
I partnered up with you because I felt lost. And I felt less lost with you.
[ Once again there merest mention of Sam almost bowls Rafe over and if the first time was unexpected, now it's worse because it's coming from Nate. His guard isn't up as it should be and the grimace lingers a minute before Rafe shakes his head. ]
We were partners before that. I signed on with both of you, not just your brother, and if you think I didn't do my homework on both of you before that to make sure I was getting my money's worth? You're out of your mind. [ It's a minor detail on the surface but it's more than large enough for Rafe to hammer home before admitting the truth in what Nate says. ] And all right, so I didn't want to give up out the gate. So I still needed a guy who knew what he was doing, so I brought you along. Where you proved quick enough you're just as smart as your brother.
[ If not smarter. Even Rafe knows the poor taste it would be in to bring up his initial doubts while Nate wandered the camp in a fog, a zombie shell that hardly questioned what he was told, and the regret that he was now stuck with the lesser Drake. Knows it'd be even worse to say how Rafe had caught himself more than once, after Nate had woken up and started showing what he could accomplish, in the middle of a grateful thought that if he had to lose one of them? He was glad it was Sam.
Knows it's pointless to share the hollow thump of guilt that followed those stray thoughts because its his own and none of Nate's business. ]
If you hadn't, if I thought it was a waste of time working with you? I'd have sent you back to the States after a month.
[ A partner's obligation only goes so far, and a plane ticket coupled with a hefty severance package would've let Rafe sleep easy if Nate hadn't proven he was worth it. But he had and that was more than enough in exchange for Rafe guiding him through those nebulous few weeks after Panama, in Scotland. Of course Rafe knew eventually his credit would run dry. Eventually Nate would get un-lost and then it would all depend on Avery and results to keep him on the map.
Rafe hadn't been able to deliver either of those things. And so here they sit. ]
You keep talking like you didn't have any other options but you did. You always did.
[It all sounds like a half-assed excuse for keeping him on the project and maybe that's because Nate's been telling himself it was for months. No one was better than Sam at this, not the research or the climbing, pick-pocketing or persuasion. Nate is never going to amount to the skill and dexterity of his older brother, freely acknowledges that he's a light version of the same drink. Rafe might as well be speaking a different language, saying that he's just as smart as Sam.
As if.
Nate's eyes track over the walkway in front of them, the cracks in the cement with little plants sprouting out of darkness. Hands settled on his knees he lets Rafe continue until he's exhausted his words.]
I still feel lost, [he admits, part and parcel of the reason he went to Flynn, knowing he couldn't very well slink back to Sully's after the fight they'd had. Nate eyes the bloody shirt between them.] I know you don't get it. I was never gonna- I can't take a hand-out. I can't take charity like that. I couldn't find the thing you wanted, I was so fucked up in the head I couldn't figure out what I wanted. I still don't-
[-know. Nate chews on the silence for a long moment, looking toward the pond.]
[ The last thing he's ever wanted was someone willing to hang around for a paycheck, or the inevitable credit built up after enough elbow-rubbing with the Adler heir. He always has to keep one eye out for people that that and after Nate had proven he wasn't one of them it was just as important an reason to keep him on board. That quality was even rarer than actual talent, even as it slowly began to swing the other way. Because if Nate hadn't come in for a dip of gravy train then that alone wasn't going to be enough to keep him, not without discoveries enough to keep him interested.
It had been a thought that gnawed at the back of his mind each day more as soon as he realized Avery wasn't giving himself up so easily. Kept gnawing until... Well. Until. ]
I already—
[ His jaw snaps shut because apologizing once had been struggle enough. Saying it again? Rafe shakes his head, because he can't. It's not in him. Besides...if it wasn't enough the first time around then what possible good can come from repeating himself? A sharp exhale does nothing for the hard line of his shoulders or his aching nose, just ruffles a few stray strands of hair that have fallen out of place. ]
I knew you'd leave eventually, it was just a matter of time, but it shouldn't have been like that. Not because of what I'd... [ It doesn't bear hashing out again. Resignation makes his voice hollow as he leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands limp. No gestures, no waves, no energy for any of it anymore. ] Like I said. You deserved better.
[Rafe already apologized, but Nate isn't sure it counts when it's too quiet to sound heartfelt. He knows that Rafe isn't accustomed to sharing and caring and frankly, neither is Nate, but he's reached a point in his life now where he's a little less reticent about speaking on injustices that hit him personally.
The meaning doesn't change with free repetition, anyway. It would just be more hollow.]
Look.
[Nate leans back against the bench, incapable of keeping eye contact and finding his gaze drifting over the ducks on the pond. It was never going to be water off a back, a cut-and-dried reunion, not with the way they left things. Hell, he didn't expect the reunion at all.]
I would've stayed on as long as it took, if- if Panama hadn't been so fresh. I would've. [Probably.] But I couldn't exactly muster the work ethic. I know you don't get it, your family is-
[Something to steer away from, but the gist should be clear.]
...I didn't think I could do it alone. I still don't, sometimes.
[ So he was alone in Scotland. It was a matter of work ethic. A hostile work environment in that case obviously went and— Makes it pretty cut and dry as far as Rafe can see it.
The sheer certainty that strikes in the next moment is enough to galvanize him into action: he shouldn't be here. It's still more effort than it's ever taken him before but Rafe has years of practice on his side to make it happen. He sits up straight as the walls go up, any trace of vulnerability sloughing off his shoulders as he forces them to relax. Nate's tagged along on a few of Rafe's social or business obligations, enough to recognize the eerily blank face he puts on now. Even as he continues avoiding looking Nate in the eye.
Even his voice, when he speaks again, has shifted into a tone cheerfully tailor-made for small talk and banalities instead of one from the bottom of a well. ]
And so now you've got Flynn. You're set. [ Something like bile rises in his throat but he swallows it. Pushing off the bench, he almost hesitates with Nate's shirt still in his fist— But only for a moment and then he checks his watch. As if the sodden reddened cloth is negligible and never mind the continued death-grip it. ] I've got a flight to catch.
[ This isn't a retreat, he rationalizes even as sheer stubbornness even now wants to dig in and not let go. Isn't as if he's taking a loss — can't lose what wasn't there, after all. No, this is... It's a choice not to waste any more time on this. A possible investment that obviously won't pan out. That's all. ]
[Rafe's family is not well-loved by Rafe, something Nate picked up while visiting the Adler estate those few times they wandered back to New York for whatever reason. He remembers seeing the twitch in his eye, the way he would tense every time they said something he didn't like, the "worried" fluttering about their only child. Face devoid of emotion, of sentiment.
Rafe stiffens in this familiar way and Nate knows he's fucked up, that he should have said something else, but what's the point? The guy came out here to mend bridges, or maybe just to point out that the bridge is busted and he's confused as to why. Standing abruptly he catches Nate off-guard, so much so that the shirt full of ice swings and nearly clocks Nate in the head before he leans back to avoid it. A drop of bloody water falls and hits his jeans, cold.
Swallowing disappointment that hoped this could have ended differently Nate can't find the words to say because he doesn't know where it went wrong out here. This should have been neutral ground. He doesn't stand.
Nate leans back against the bench, hands folded in his lap, failing to curtail the ache and hurt in the sentence he forces out even if he knows Rafe's claim is full of shit.]
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uncalendula) wrote2016-10-19 11:19 am
no subject
[he mumbles, because generally a response to an untimely interruption doesn't involve copious amounts of strangling while hissing don't fucking interrupt me in someone's face. If Nate sleeps hard enough, if the dreams allow it, he can sometimes feel the flecks of saliva on his cheek, a twisted expression hanging over his own like a fucking night terror out of a Goya painting.
Here Rafe is passive, bordering on submissive, staring down at Nate's shirt and the red bleeding through damp fabric. It's an agony to watch because Rafe doesn't do this and Nate knows it, has seen the way he never backs down, never apologizes, never makes amends. A cutthroat businessman humbling himself after a brief period of stalker-like behavior.
Nate doesn't want to forgive him. He really doesn't.]
Can we just...cut the crap? The whole small-talk thing? [There's a beat, while Nate gathers his druthers.] I'm healed up, it just bruised a little. I got scared. I left the camp. I came here.
You followed me here. For what answers, Rafe? You knew why I left. You had to know that.
no subject
I came because—
[ He stops short, because he sure as hell doesn't have an answer. Not any that he can put into words, not any that he understands. A year ago this would've had Rafe laughing because there was always an answer and he always had it, cut and dry and pat as anything. Not for the first time he asks himself what the hell happened. ]
...Because I owed you as much. [ Forgetting anything else that may or may not have been between them, Nate was a partner. Rafe may be cutthroat in the boardroom, ready and willing and able to do what he could to win, but there was still a code. You watch out for each other, bring each other along, don't stab each other in the back. Or...strangle each other, as the case may be. The clear lesson to take from all this is he's better off working alone; his track record for partners is abysmal so far. ] You deserved better.
[ The passivity flickers away behind a nasty frown, thoughts trailing back up to Flynn's flat where the prick is waiting for Nate. It isn't any of Rafe's business — never was, probably, given he'd never had a legitimate claim in the first place — who Nate bends over for now but the idea galls him too much to accept it. ]
You still do.
no subject
[Nate can't even muster an attempt at an excuse, having already picked up on the inherent disliked just based on his knowledge of both parties. He knows them both, he's fucked them both, and while they're not equals in a lot of respects they're still good at doing what they do.
They're all assholes, in their own ways.]
I dunno, he was there after I ran away. Didn't really have the guts to face Sully after that argument. He never wanted me to work with you.
[Silent for a long moment that transcends awkwardness and plateaus into something too sad, too worn for someone in his mid-twenties, Nate sighs through his nose. It's a very pretty thought, to imagine that he's earned more than this. That there isn't something slightly masochistic about the situations in which he keeps placing himself.]
I don't really deserve much more than what I have.
no subject
[ But Nate keeps speaking and Rafe's fingers twitch around the damp shirt he's still twisting because fucking interruptions don't you dare interrupt me but no. No. He can wait even if he's boiling over and spikes again hearing what Nate thinks he deserves. ]
You're one of the best in this business and Flynn's track record proves him second-rate, at best. You've done more in less time, you're smarter than he is, and you could find better work anywhere else, legitimate or not, partnered with anyone else. If not Sullivan then somebody who wouldn't just be taking advantage because he knows the asset they'd landed with you.
[ One of the few virtues Rafe has is his honesty. Maybe he's blunt to the point of cruel, but he's never said a thing he didn't mean and never given praise that wasn't earned and then some. ]
What does it even matter what Victor thought of me after— Christ. [ It's no surprise to hear Sullivan disapproved of him; the old man could join a long and varied club there and put in for a jacket. He can't imagine why Nate wouldn't have gone back to him with the story of one more rich boy playing around where he had no right to. ] If you needed it, I'd have set you up with contacts. Introductions. A fucking plane to... Instead of just walking out.
[ That last line is the only place Rafe's all-business tone starts to fade, for something close to what Nate says to surface but bleaker. More resigned. Just because he's telling the truth doesn't mean he doesn't realize just what he'd screwed himself out of. He'll keep looking for Avery (doesn't know how to stop) but it'll be harder without Nate there. ]
I wouldn't have partnered up with you if you weren't better than this. And better than that asshole back there.
no subject
Harry Flynn knows that Nate has talent, Harry Flynn is a decent hand at his own job, Harry Flynn likes fucking Nate: these are all facts.
Harry Flynn taking advantage of Nate feeling like he has nowhere else to go? Maybe, yeah.
Yeah.]
You partnered up with me because Sam died, [Nate replies calmly.] Because you didn't have a choice. I was like a...Diet Avery Expert.
[Call a spade a spade - Nate isn't about to pretend their original arrangement wasn't just for convenience's sake. Rafe had to make do with a replacement and Nate was adrift in his own cluttered thoughts, a mess of misdirection and exhaustion, struggling to carry the burden that was his grief.]
I partnered up with you because I felt lost. And I felt less lost with you.
no subject
We were partners before that. I signed on with both of you, not just your brother, and if you think I didn't do my homework on both of you before that to make sure I was getting my money's worth? You're out of your mind. [ It's a minor detail on the surface but it's more than large enough for Rafe to hammer home before admitting the truth in what Nate says. ] And all right, so I didn't want to give up out the gate. So I still needed a guy who knew what he was doing, so I brought you along. Where you proved quick enough you're just as smart as your brother.
[ If not smarter. Even Rafe knows the poor taste it would be in to bring up his initial doubts while Nate wandered the camp in a fog, a zombie shell that hardly questioned what he was told, and the regret that he was now stuck with the lesser Drake. Knows it'd be even worse to say how Rafe had caught himself more than once, after Nate had woken up and started showing what he could accomplish, in the middle of a grateful thought that if he had to lose one of them? He was glad it was Sam.
Knows it's pointless to share the hollow thump of guilt that followed those stray thoughts because its his own and none of Nate's business. ]
If you hadn't, if I thought it was a waste of time working with you? I'd have sent you back to the States after a month.
[ A partner's obligation only goes so far, and a plane ticket coupled with a hefty severance package would've let Rafe sleep easy if Nate hadn't proven he was worth it. But he had and that was more than enough in exchange for Rafe guiding him through those nebulous few weeks after Panama, in Scotland. Of course Rafe knew eventually his credit would run dry. Eventually Nate would get un-lost and then it would all depend on Avery and results to keep him on the map.
Rafe hadn't been able to deliver either of those things. And so here they sit. ]
You keep talking like you didn't have any other options but you did. You always did.
no subject
As if.
Nate's eyes track over the walkway in front of them, the cracks in the cement with little plants sprouting out of darkness. Hands settled on his knees he lets Rafe continue until he's exhausted his words.]
I still feel lost, [he admits, part and parcel of the reason he went to Flynn, knowing he couldn't very well slink back to Sully's after the fight they'd had. Nate eyes the bloody shirt between them.] I know you don't get it. I was never gonna- I can't take a hand-out. I can't take charity like that. I couldn't find the thing you wanted, I was so fucked up in the head I couldn't figure out what I wanted. I still don't-
[-know. Nate chews on the silence for a long moment, looking toward the pond.]
Is this you apologizing, or something?
no subject
[ The last thing he's ever wanted was someone willing to hang around for a paycheck, or the inevitable credit built up after enough elbow-rubbing with the Adler heir. He always has to keep one eye out for people that that and after Nate had proven he wasn't one of them it was just as important an reason to keep him on board. That quality was even rarer than actual talent, even as it slowly began to swing the other way. Because if Nate hadn't come in for a dip of gravy train then that alone wasn't going to be enough to keep him, not without discoveries enough to keep him interested.
It had been a thought that gnawed at the back of his mind each day more as soon as he realized Avery wasn't giving himself up so easily. Kept gnawing until... Well. Until. ]
I already—
[ His jaw snaps shut because apologizing once had been struggle enough. Saying it again? Rafe shakes his head, because he can't. It's not in him. Besides...if it wasn't enough the first time around then what possible good can come from repeating himself? A sharp exhale does nothing for the hard line of his shoulders or his aching nose, just ruffles a few stray strands of hair that have fallen out of place. ]
I knew you'd leave eventually, it was just a matter of time, but it shouldn't have been like that. Not because of what I'd... [ It doesn't bear hashing out again. Resignation makes his voice hollow as he leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands limp. No gestures, no waves, no energy for any of it anymore. ] Like I said. You deserved better.
no subject
The meaning doesn't change with free repetition, anyway. It would just be more hollow.]
Look.
[Nate leans back against the bench, incapable of keeping eye contact and finding his gaze drifting over the ducks on the pond. It was never going to be water off a back, a cut-and-dried reunion, not with the way they left things. Hell, he didn't expect the reunion at all.]
I would've stayed on as long as it took, if- if Panama hadn't been so fresh. I would've. [Probably.] But I couldn't exactly muster the work ethic. I know you don't get it, your family is-
[Something to steer away from, but the gist should be clear.]
...I didn't think I could do it alone. I still don't, sometimes.
no subject
[ So he was alone in Scotland. It was a matter of work ethic. A hostile work environment in that case obviously went and— Makes it pretty cut and dry as far as Rafe can see it.
The sheer certainty that strikes in the next moment is enough to galvanize him into action: he shouldn't be here. It's still more effort than it's ever taken him before but Rafe has years of practice on his side to make it happen. He sits up straight as the walls go up, any trace of vulnerability sloughing off his shoulders as he forces them to relax. Nate's tagged along on a few of Rafe's social or business obligations, enough to recognize the eerily blank face he puts on now. Even as he continues avoiding looking Nate in the eye.
Even his voice, when he speaks again, has shifted into a tone cheerfully tailor-made for small talk and banalities instead of one from the bottom of a well. ]
And so now you've got Flynn. You're set. [ Something like bile rises in his throat but he swallows it. Pushing off the bench, he almost hesitates with Nate's shirt still in his fist— But only for a moment and then he checks his watch. As if the sodden reddened cloth is negligible and never mind the continued death-grip it. ] I've got a flight to catch.
[ This isn't a retreat, he rationalizes even as sheer stubbornness even now wants to dig in and not let go. Isn't as if he's taking a loss — can't lose what wasn't there, after all. No, this is... It's a choice not to waste any more time on this. A possible investment that obviously won't pan out. That's all. ]
no subject
Rafe stiffens in this familiar way and Nate knows he's fucked up, that he should have said something else, but what's the point? The guy came out here to mend bridges, or maybe just to point out that the bridge is busted and he's confused as to why. Standing abruptly he catches Nate off-guard, so much so that the shirt full of ice swings and nearly clocks Nate in the head before he leans back to avoid it. A drop of bloody water falls and hits his jeans,
cold.
Swallowing disappointment that hoped this could have ended differently Nate can't find the words to say because he doesn't know where it went wrong out here. This should have been neutral ground. He doesn't stand.
Nate leans back against the bench, hands folded in his lap, failing to curtail the ache and hurt in the sentence he forces out even if he knows Rafe's claim is full of shit.]
I don't wanna hold you up.