nostalgia || Axel & Bryden
brydenharris:
@axel-levine
Being just late enough in the day that the tavern was open, but early enough that the only people in the bar were day drinkers, Bryden made himself comfortable on a stool a beer finding its way in front of him. he had been expecting to see familiar faces in this old town, and he wasn’t exactly disappointed. A lot of the key members were still right on up in the ranks, but quite a bit had changed since the last time he had been here. Like Axel no long owning the auto shop. That had been a shocker, but eventually he had been pointed in the right direction of where the bastet could be found. The Gaslight Tavern, which, thinking about it, wasn’t all that surprising.
“Know where I can find Axel?” he asked once he got the attention of someone behind the bar. Bryden couldn’t really be sure why he was looking for Axel, they had gone more than a couple decades without being in contact, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Regardless of how little the two actually knew about each other, they were family. And Bryden had just disappeared without a trace. “Just tell him an old friend is stopping by.”
The barman was happy to oblige the man's question, "He's out back. I'll get him for you." He insisted, because Axel had always said that he could be pestered for visitors; you never knew who was going to drop in, after all.
Axel was in the office out back, but since the visit with Ian he had grown more agitated. Tinsley had been abducted. Not killed, like he had always refused to believe… But fuck, this made him feel so much worse, knowing that some asshole had snatched her right off the street and made a whole fucking staged scene about it. He had no idea what to do, save for take the advice Ian had given him. Lay low. Wait or this to blow over. His men were recalled from their street corners and put to better use at the warehouse and around the tavern, the consensus amongst them seemed positive; they understood. It was annoying, but it was better than getting caught and serving time in the slammer. But with all this plaguing his mind, it was little surprise that when the barman knocked at his door that Axel snarled at him, "What?" He spat, and the barman gulped, not the welcome he had expected, Axel was normally more amiable, "You've got a visitor boss, an old friend he says. Didn't say his name." Axel groaned, that could be a whole host of people. He extinguished his cigarette in the glass dish he had on his desk, "I'll be out in a minute." He grumbled, the barman gingerly fled, closing the door behind him. Wafting away the smoke with his hand, Axel rose to his feet and headed to the door, heading through and locking it behind him. He headed out through the narrow hall and into the bar proper, "Alright, so who—" His words were cut short when he laid eyes on the man at the bar. His jaw all but dropped in pure shock as he stared at his son, sitting patiently at the bar, "Bryden? You're back?"
