Unraveling | Lainey/Frank

Outside, in the alley behind the pub


Lainey sat in the corner between the outer wall of the building and the dumpster. Her cell phone lay on the ground beside her. Her right hand clasped the handle of her pocket knife, the blade of which was pulled out, gleaming in the light from the bulb by the back door of the Jug and Bottle. Her other arm rested against her knee, pale, unmarked wrist facing towards her.

It hurt. She hurt. Seeing her brother again only reminded her of just how keenly.

Letting out a shuddering breath, tears trailing slowly down her face, Lainey took the knife and pressed it against her wrist.

He put his phone down and threw it into the nearest bin. He never kept a phone for long and he'd already had that one longer than planned. Luckily he'd been in the area tonight so he could get to her quicker. He didn't think she would last too long in her current state alone.

He turned a corner and entered the pub in search for her. After a quick word with the barman it was clear she was no longer around. With a sigh he stepped out and looked down both sides of the street. What would he do if he was in her shoes?

"Lainey?" He said just loud enough for someone close by to hear. He didn't want to attract too much attention to himself.

Lainey paused, knife still against her wrist, though it hadn't cut the skin.

Yet.

He had come. Just as she knew he was. He'd come for her.

"I'm here," she called quietly.

His head spun to the side her voice came from. He knew he'd heard it. No matter how faint it was, he knew she had spoken. Following his gut, he walked around the side of the pub and found a figure sat up against the wall.

"You going to kill yourself sweet'art?" He asked walking over to lean against the wall opposite her. "It's no fun dyin without a fight. Believe me i've bin close ta death. I know how it feels and it aint pretty. I can tell ya that fo nothin." He said holding his hand out for the knife.

"Its the drink talkin. It messes with ya head." He said point with his other hand to his head. He never drank, not after getting drunk that one time and not being quick enough to defend himself. Now he liked to stay on top alert at all times.

"Not been drinkin'," Lainey murmured, staring at her wrist. She lifted her gaze to his hand, as though trying to figure out why he was holding it out.

"My life sucks," the girl said, tone thick with tears. "I used to have everything, but the magicals have taken it all away. No matter what I do, I can't ever forget. Something always reminds me."

She finally met his eyes, her own full of hurt and despair and self-loathing. Slowly, she removed the blade from against her wrist, setting the knife in Frank's palm. Leaning her head against the wall, Lainey let out a choked sob.

"I saw my brother."

"Not right now you haven't no." He said beckoning with his fingers for her to hurry. "Give me the knife Lainey." He demanded, his voice not exactly gentle or soothing now. "You think you're the only one with problems?" He spat taking the knife and throwing it aside.

"I have no family, i have more scars than i could possible count, i've had that many near death experiences i can't even begin to remember just how many i've had. Do you see me complaining? No! Im doing something about it. Magicals are ruined all of our lives and its about time they received the same favour." He looking down both ends of the alley to make sure they were alone.

"And? What's he got to do with anything?" He asked.

Lainey stared at him a moment, then gave a quiet laugh. It was meant to sound bitter; instead, it just sounded weary.

"You're one of them," she said softly, fingers idly tracing patterns against the brick of the wall she was leaning against. "You think I'm like this on purpose. That I'm just trying to get attention."

She laughed again. "Like anyone would choose this.

"D'you really think I'm stupid? Of course, I know I'm not the only one with problems. Ya think that makes me feel any better? Dontcha think I'd stop being like this, if I could? I called for help this time... doesn't that mean anything?"

Lainey pushed herself up, tiredly. "I know the wizards deserve payback - it's the only thing I have to hang on to, some times. But I'm pathetic, okay?" her tone developed more of its usual biting sarcasm. "Or selfish - whatever term you wanna use. Maybe you should just find someone else to lead the order."

She started down the alleyway, her phone still on the ground where she'd left it. Pausing, Lainey turned to look back at him. She'd told Frank about her brother, about how he'd been born with magic and that they'd been taken before their parents could help him (or would that be 'make him'? Lainey wasn't so certain, anymore) turn it aside.

"He chose them," Lainey murmured softly. "My brother chose the wizards."

"One of who?" He asked hoping she didn't say those thiefs cause he didn't think he could contain himself if she did. He'd never be one of them. not even his family could make him see through their lies. "It's you thats made your life this way. Drinking is taking the cowards way out!" He spat. "Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and fight!"

"No because you still had the thoughts in the first place. Turn off your emotions if you're too weak to control them! Our leader needs to be stronger than a child! She needs to lead millions into a victory!"

He nodded. "Yeah you are and its about time you got a grip and did something other than drink away your sorrows. If thats how you want to live your life then find someone else to do that with. I don't believe in drinking, i believe in fighting for our country and our freedom!"

He thought about it for a second and nodded. "Of course he did. They always do, they have ways to brainwash which is exactly why we need to settle this. Nicoli died and left behind his secrets for the supernatural with me. Now im going to pass them on to you. But first you need to sober up and stop feeling sorry for yourself!"

"I'm the one who's made my life this way?" Lainey repeated. "Wow. Just... wow, Frank, so it's my fault, is it?

"You know what? I'm not an alcoholic, you bloody arse! I occasionally indulge in a bit of binge drinking, and then I'm dry for months. I haven't had anything but stupid glass of wine with you for months! And for your information, since apparently, you don't care, my life was fucked up long before I so much as tasted alcohol.

"So, I don't ever get to feel sorry for myself, is that it?" the redhead demanded. "I can't ever feel weak, because I have to be some sort of goddamn superhero."

Lainey started to cry, though whether from anger or misery, it was hard to tell. Maybe, it was both. "D'ya know why I called you?" she asked. "Hm? I haven't felt like this in weeks, months, even, and when I did again, when I needed help, do you have any fuckin' clue why I called you, of all people? Why I even bothered to call when I could just be done with all of this?

"It's because, I used to feel stronger when I was with you. And I thought... I thought, maybe... maybe you understood me, just a bit. Maybe you actually cared about me, a little." Lainey gave a manic laugh. "You men, though - you're all the same: monumental assholes!

"I needed support, Frank, maybe a bit of comfort for once in my God-forsaken life. Not another reminder of extremely fucked up I am!

"You know what? Fuck off, Frank. Wanna talk about childish? How about someone who can't even admit to himself that he has a thing with someone? Hell, that just maybe, he might love that person? Sound familiar? Well, it should.

"Don't bother to give me your new number. I won't be needing it. I'll be too busy feeling sorry for myself," she sneered sarcastically. Turning, she continued down the alley once more.