thorns, alex-love

[Charlee Westlake]

It had been an extremely long day – made longer by her lack of sleep the night before. It was written all over her face; in the dark circles that shrouded her eyes, the redness that still edged the whites of her eyes from the brief moments through the day that had brought tears to her eyes…Charlee was exhausted. Phoenix had spent the night with her, making her as comfortable as he could. He had done a brilliant job, of course. Her best friend had known just how to make her feel safe in her surroundings, but nothing could have helped her sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she could see herself looking over her own shoulder to the figure shrouded in black. She could hear his footsteps, his heavy breathing. A shiver shook her body once again as she sat in the passenger side of her boyfriend’s car, and she forced herself to focus on other things.

Unfortunately for Alex, the only other thing she could focus on right now was the red blanket of rage, blinding her like a mask.

Charlee was silent for a block. It only took a block and a half before she blew her final gasket. “How could you do it?” She turned to him in her seat, anger seething from her bright green eyes, jaw clenched uncomfortably. More than anything, she hated this. It was a complete lack of control that allowed the next words to flow freely from her lips. “How could you tell me to call someone else, Alex? If anything happened to you I would be god damn beside myself. And you told me to call someone else? Do you know how humiliating that is? What, I wasn’t dead, so I was fine? Is that how it works?”

[Alexander Atwood]

It had been an extremely long week, and the telltale signs were imprinted everywhere on Alex’s person. His hair was tousled, his eyes were red, his skin was sallow and his face drawn. The only thing that could rival how tired he looked was how tired he felt. It was one thing that he had arrived at the station early and left late every night this week, but what was really getting to him, was the sleepless nights in between. No matter how exhausted he was when he climbed into bed after a long day, he had yet to find a way to shut off his brain.

He pulled up outside Phoenix’s building, and put the car in park right outside the entrance. With a sigh, he dug into his pocket for his cell phone, glancing quickly at the time before pulling up the screen to write a text. It was past one in the morning, but he’d told his girlfriend that he would pick her up on his way home from work, and she hadn’t called or texted to tell him otherwise, even if he had predicted that he would be finishing up no later than midnight.

He closed his eyes while he waited for Charlee to come down, only opening them again when he heard the car door being opened. He gave her a weak smile and a quick hello, but already from the get go, there was an uncomfortable silence in the car. She was probably still scared, he reasoned. Truth be told, he didn’t much like the thought of anyone following her either, not with the situation being what it was, but he was the last person with permission to lose it these days.

Easing the car back onto the road, he started making his way towards his apartment in South End, driving more slowly than usual. Now and then, he threw little glances at Charlee, who, uncharacteristically, still had not said much. Just when he started thinking that there might be something more to her silence than fear, all hell broke loose.

All he could do was stare at her while she ranted at him. Then he remembered that if he was going to be staring at anything, it should definitely be at the road.

“Charlee…” he started, his voice dangerously quiet, though tinged with weariness. “Of course I care about how you are, but like it or not, there were other people that needed me more tonight. I thought you understood that.”

[Charlee Westlake]

“Oh don’t give me that shit, ‘I thought you understood that’.” (For which she used her best patronizing tone.) “I understand pretty damn well where I come in your life and I think I handle it better than most girlfriends would.” She turned her body in her seat to face him. She could see it all over his face – he was exhausted and overworked, more so than usual. Charlee knew that for Alex, work as a priority. But she hadn’t expected what had happened this evening. She felt brushed off, insignificant. In reality and in comparison, she was insignificant. The city needed their Chief, but she had needed her boyfriend.

“Alex, never once have I ever asked to be a priority to you. I don’t ask questions, I don’t demand answers. All I wanted tonight was you. What if things hadn’t turned out the way they had? Would you have spared a few minutes for me then? What is it going to take?”She was being dramatic and she knew it, but times like these had never been Charlee’s strong suit. She was no good at conflict, but when pushed to the edge, she had never quite learned to turn it off until she had run out of fuel. At this point, she had far from run out of fuel. Angry tears pricked at her eyes, and she wiped one away hastily as it began the trek across her high cheek bone.

“And now it’s almost one thirty in the morning and I’m really mad at you, and I don’t know if you care in the least about that.” His words had been on a loop in her head since he’d told her to call Phoenix. He couldn’t get away. Was this how it would always be? She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. She had to try and calm herself. It was proving difficult, when all she wanted was to yell at him until he made it better. She really, really wanted him to make this better. Charlee knew this wasn’t all up to him – this was a give and take thing, after all, but she didn’t want to feel like this anymore.

She was used to playing second fiddle, but for just once she’d like to be main-stage for him. She only wished she hadn’t had to have a hissy fit to get his attention.

[Alexander Atwood]

“Charlee,” he repeated, attempting to stop the flood of words that poured forth from his girlfriend, but she was not to be easily assuaged tonight. In the year they had been together, he had never seen her like this before. She was usually a ray of sunshine to come home to after a long day working with the shadows of the city, but even Charlee had her limits, and this seemed to be it.

In the midst of her rant though, he couldn’t help but feel the sting injustice at being its target. No matter what she had to say, he could not be convinced that he had acted inappropriately tonight. Not when all he had done was to perform his duty, duties she had been well aware of when she got herself involved with him. That was one of the reasons why their relationship had worked so well for so long. She understood that his work was important to him. At least, he had thought she understood.

“Charlee,” he repeated, when she finally seemed to be done yelling at him. He wanted to look at her, but he kept his eyes on the road, except for quick little glances when the wax and wane of the traffic allowed for it.

“I’m sorry that you’re upset, but there was nothing I could do. I have a responsibility to the people of this city. I know you were scared, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be the boyfriend that you wanted tonight, but I can’t drop everything and come running to you. You know that.”

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You probably weren’t in any danger. If I thought you were, don’t you think I’d move heaven and earth to get to you?”

[Charlee Westlake]

Charlee was having a hard time hearing what he had to say over the pounding of her own heartbeat. She could still feel it – this kind of anger didn’t happen often. She was sure he had never seen it before – not many people had. Not even Charlee. What she lacked in the ease of riling her up she made up for in gusto when it actually happened. She was livid, but she listened closely, ever so carefully, waiting for the words she knew would calm her down, slow the boil of her blood to something more of a simmer and then back down to normal temperature.

They didn’t come. The words she wanted to hear stayed wanted, and the boil continued.

“My god, you are such a sanctimonious windbag sometimes, Alex!” If Charlee could have, she might have stomped her foot just then. “I didn’t get a papercut, somebody chased me home.” She wanted to put it in written form for him so she could underline, bold and italicize all of it for him, so he could physically see what she was saying. Would it help? Probably not. “Usually when that happens, you’re supposed to call the police. I have Bishop City’s finest on speed dial and I was still alone!” For a small girl, she had a lot of lung capacity; the curse of her red hair fit the stereotype that followed it – two things that would do her boyfriend no favours now.

“At least I know better for next time. Because newsflash Alex, the people of this city may need you, but I’m also a person in this city. Not just your stupid girlfriend who got spooked by a fucking shadow.” She could feel it now, bubbling over into something she hated. She felt the sting in the corner of her eyes, and she did nothing to stop a few hot tears from slipping from their home and down her angry, red cheeks.

[Alexander Atwood]

Alex took a deep breath as he turned the car onto a new street. His jaw was clenched at the injustice of being subject to such a tirade, when all he had done was his job. “You weren’t alone,” he said, and he could hear the tightness in his own voice. “I told you to call Phoenix, and he came to pick you up.”

He wanted to add that she had been alone for all of fifteen minutes, in a house with locked windows and doors, but he shut his mouth before the words escaped. He couldn’t allow himself to become truly angry. Despite the sting of being called a self-righteous ass, he understood her fear. He’d seen the same fear up close many times, and he wouldn’t pretend that it was easier to see that anxiety reflected in Charlee’s eyes, but his hands had been tied. As the Chief of Police, he couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions and race to his loved ones to protect them until a real danger presented itself.

“I didn’t say you were spooked by a shadow.” He made another turn. They were nearly at his place now. “I said not to panic. With everything that’s happened in the last few weeks, I understand that it’s easy to think the worst, but I can’t do that. I have enough to think about without worrying needlessly.”

He threw a quick glance over at her, then fastened his eyes back on the road. The image of her face floated in his mind. “Besides, what is it that you wanted me to do tonight? What could I possibly have done if I were there? Would you honestly have felt any better if it was me with you instead of Phoenix?”

[Charlee Westlake]

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Charlee had never seen someone dig himself into such a huge hole before, and Alex didn’t care one bit! Not one little bit! She seethed, attempting to take a deep breath through her nose but time spent crying before him made this impossible. No, at this point she was almost cried out, snotty and really, really pissed off.

It was like the ocean had calm down when she spoke again though, and she slipped her arm through the purse that sat in her lap and she took Phoenix’s keys in her hand as she stared straight on towards the street. She couldn’t even look at him. “Pull over please.”

She wanted out. A needless worry, he should have had no problem pulling over and letting her cab back to Phoenix’s home. Charlee didn’t really understand what was going on – how was it that her best friend had made her feel so warm and comfortable, wanted in his home and she was sitting here now in her boyfriend’s car feeling like the tiniest human on earth? Why was he doing this to her? In the year they had been together, Charlee had been put off, delayed, late for reservations because Alex had been working and that had been absolutely fine with her. But on a night like this, as insecure as she’d been, and it was a needless worry.

Charlee didn’t have a brave face, and that much was made evident by the blank stare aimed towards the road ahead of them. “Now.”

[Alexander Atwood]

“Pull…” Alex wasn’t quite sure he heard her right. The incredulity was evident in the single word he uttered. The same emotion was etched onto his face as he stared over his shoulder at her. Here she had been ripping into him for not dropping everything to personally come and ensure her safety, and now she wanted him to drop her off at some random street corner in the middle of the night. With the serial killer she had been so afraid of earlier still at large.

“What?! No!” he finally sputtered, having processed her request. His reaction was cut short by the blaring horn of another car. While he was busy staring dumbstruck at his girlfriend, the car had started drifting into the other lane. With a sharp intake of breath, he corrected the course. His own heartbeat thundered in his ears, the blood surging through his temples in a relentless thump thump thump.

“Dammit,” he said, practically spitting the unfamiliar word out into the charged atmosphere.

[Charlee Westlake]

Charlee turned her head to look at him, daring him to challenge her with an eyebrow raised so sharply it might cut right into her hairline. She read him like a book – what a hypocrite you are, Charlee. Angry with him for not showing up. Angry with him for not letting you go. What are you thinking? But that was the point. She was thinking, and far too much. For a second, the thoughts distracted her enough to forget they were in a moving vehicle – she only knew that it was him, and it was her, and for the first time she had no idea what to do with it.

The honk was barely audible but the swerve that followed didn’t go unnoticed and she gasped, reaching for the door handle to hold on as her head whipped around to look ahead again. It was fitting, if you looked at it literally. Shaken ground between them, shaken ground underneath them…Charlee turned her head to look out the window. Honesty was the right thing, right? “I don’t know what to do here.”

[Alexander Atwood]

Alex sighed heavily, determined to not take his eyes off the road again, despite the bone weary tone in his girlfriend’s voice as she told him that she didn’t know what to do. The silence that stretched on after was oppressive. His fingers were curled around the steering in a death grip, his knuckles white with effort.

“Me neither, Charlee,” he finally said. He took another deep, calming breath. They were nearly at his apartment now. Just a few more turns and a few more blocks, and he would be home. Home. He nearly snorted at the idea. Even as exhausted he had been half an hour ago, and still was, he would rather go back to the station. Thanks to the Symbologist, there had been many sleepless nights in the past few months, and when Charlee was acting like this on top of everything, he might as well give in right away, and go be of use instead of tossing and turning.

“Look, I’m tired, Charlee. Let’s just go to my place and try to get some sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow.”