Fall Out

Dorien retreated to his room where Misery was huddled on the bed in a pile of blankets. A fresh pang of regret and anger at himself and his own stupidity ran through him.

He shut the door firmly behind him. He'd have to talk with Argent later about what had happened, but for now he had bigger issues. He looked down at his bleeding fingers and flexed his hand.

"I'm so sorry..." he said, almost absently, "I don't... I was stupid to think...."

He shook his head and looked up at Misery.

"Are you ok?"

"I don't know," she mumbled from beneath the covers. "Which thing am I supposed to be trying to be okay about?"

Dorien didn't really have an answer. He sat down on the foot of the mattress.

"Look, we'll... figure something out..." he said. His voice was the flat monotone of someone in shock. "We can get help. I know Aubrienne was looking into this fae thing. Maybe she'll know what's going on and what we can do about it. If... if it is after you, I promise I'll do everything I can to make sure you're safe."

He put a hand on his forehead, as if trying to think clearly.

"And Puce... void, I don't know what we're gonna do about him. I thought... for once I thought everything might be turning around and now..."

Misery poked her head out from under the covers, peering at him. "No going all self-pitying and hopeless allowed," she said, poking him with her foot. "That definitely doesn't help."

"Says the woman hiding under a blanket," Dorien said.

But she was right. Despite every instinct telling him to just give up and break down he forced himself to hold together, at least for Misery's sake.

"Ok. Then what do we do? If we give him what he wants he's never gonna let go. We need a plan. Some way to convince him it's in his best interest to cut his losses with us."

Misery sat up, her curly hair in a tousled mess. "Well, what's he got over us, exactly? He thinks that you won't go to your father because if your father finds out what you've been up to, he'll... I don't know, be mad. But however mad your father is, he isn't going to have you killed.... right?"

"He wouldn't need to," Dorien said, "Even if Puce gets locked up, we know he's working for bigger fish. What happens when they find out I squealed on him to my father? Not to mention my father's contacts were the only reason I had a shot at getting out of here in the first place. I only got the interview with Capdeville because of him. If he wanted to he could have me blacklisted. And at that point I might as well stay with Puce because it would be the only work I could get. Again."

He groaned in frustration.

"I really fucked up this time..." he muttered.

Misery crawled closer, pulling Dorien over for a hug. "Maybe we need to find out who the bigger fish are. Maybe we can go over his head and make some kind of better deal."

"That's... actually, that's a pretty good idea."

Dorien let himself be pulled into her embrace, laying his head against her chest.

"But assuming we can find them, what would we have to offer them? I can't imagine those kind of people would give us something for nothing."

"I don't know," Misery said, stroking his hair. "That was as far as I'd gotten with the plan. I could maybe talk to my father about it, though."

Dorien looked up at her.

"Who exactly is your father? You seemed to think Puce would be scared of him. Why? And most importantly, should I be?"

Misery shrugged. "Not as long as you're nice to me, anyway," she teased. "My father runs a gym - a lot of the Nhau'kel folks train there, so he's got connections, and no one really wants to piss him off. Uh, one particular connection is kind of more... personal."

Dorien nodded, not pressing further. If he needed to know, Misery would tell him.

"Maybe... maybe somehow we could dig up some kind of dirt on Puce. If I know that hood, he's gotta be skimming off the top somewhere. That would at least give us some leverage."

"Maybe," Misery agreed. "But I'm not sure I'm qualified for going snooping around in his business, and I know you're not." She kissed Dorien to take the sting out of the words. "We'll figure something out, one way or another."