Mama Bear

54 - Power Transferral

[tragicflxws]

"That’s bullshit. You wouldn’t buy a car without test driving it first." He makes a face at that, the thought that he’ll ever get married to anyone. Especially right now, when the thought of him holding a steady relationship seems as binding and unwelcome as the sobriety that’s been all but forced on him. It doesn’t matter that he asked for it, that this is some form of tough love to try and get him back on his feet. It still feels like chains around his wrists.

And it makes it just as difficult to hold onto any semblance of humor, because even if he’s doing better, he’s still damaged. He’s still a junkie and he still gets cold sweats just thinking about his drugs. There’s still stomach churning anxiety at the thought that he’ll never have a hit again, just as much at the thought that he will. 

The hands coming to his face don’t quiet it any, but it stills him momentarily, affection of any kind still more unfamiliar than it used to be. And maybe tomorrow the words will be a comfort, or next week, or next month, or however long it takes for him to see something like a light at the end of the tunnel. Right now it just has him shaking his head when she steps back. ”It’s that ‘getting better’ part I’m having trouble with.” 

If there was uneasiness in her presence, he can’t stop himself from tensing slightly when she goes to leave. Because he doesn’t know what he’ll do when he’s left to his own devices, but he should probably figure it out sooner rather than later. But he nods his head at the words, for the most part accepting the words and the rules he’s been given, even if he can’t promise to follow them. “Not gonna thank you right now.”

[eileen-savage-blog]

"You don't have to thank me," Eileen tells him honestly after her tongue sticks against the roof of her mouth. His sobriety would be his gratitude, but she doesn't say as much. He doesn't need the added pressure of believing other people's happiness is affected by whether there's a needle in his arm. He's foolish and blind to think it isn't, but those two things are what landed him in this pit in the first place. "Just don't be a dumbass."

There's an obvious sweetness to her words, the affection sticking to her voice like hard candy, sugary yet difficult to bite through. Tough love had always been her best weapon. And all of her children are given 100% of that. The ones who take advantage are weeded out quickly enough, turning the last family they had into strangers. One of them wouldn't be the fall of the family.

"Becky left you a gift in the drawer," she informs him with a knowing grin, the image fresh in her mind from earlier in the day when the eight year old stormed into the kitchen in excitement, a piece of paper clasped between her thing fingers, "It's a drawing of all of them. So you know their names and what they look like."

She neglects to inform him the lack of detail in which an eight year old draws with. Just because Becky enjoys it doesn't make her a natural talent at it. But Eileen would never hinder her creativity. So Todd is oddly tall. Geoff and Abby look the same, just one has longer hair. And Marnie's left arm is longer than her right. Eli would understand.

[tragicflxws]

There’s too much finality in the closed door, and it almost doesn’t matter who Eileen is right now. She’s always played the role of mama bear to the rebellion’s wayward children, including the ones that didn’t need raising anymore. And that much should give him comfort, because she’s no stranger to him and he doesn’t have to worry about her turning him in or him losing his temper and hurting her. But there’s less in the thought that she could take away his ability if she has to, if he gets bad enough that he makes her think that’s any kind of solution.

Regardless of any of that, she’s still a warden right now. She’s supposed to keep him in line and there’s never been a day in his life that he hasn’t bucked against whatever kind of authority hangs over him. If he listens to Jay it’s because they’re brothers, equals, if he listened to Sam it was for the same reason.

All he can say is there’s less anger there than there was a few days ago, less bitterness that she’s standing between him and the door. And in quiet moments where he can get his hand to stop shaking, he thinks he needs the help. That he can’t control himself and he can’t trust himself and if Jay had left him in his apartment alone then relapse is the first thing he’d do. 

He follows her down the hallway, fingers curling tighter around the strap of his bag. There’s clothes and some movies, not much else because he didn’t have much else. “Twelve days,” he mutters, though he doubts it makes a difference to anyone but him. 

The room she leads him to is small and simple and if it looks like a cell, it also still looks neater and cleaner than the place he’d been living. He steps inside it, bag getting dropped by the table while he looks around. It leaves his skin crawling, the thought that he’s being locked in a cell and the key thrown away until he can recite all twelve steps and pass a drug test and it all seems exhausting looking at it. 

He could go, and it wouldn’t be hard, but he keeps himself steady because he’s trying to remind himself that it won’t end anywhere good. Leave the city, leave the state, find some new hole to destroy himself in, but the problem is he’s not dead anymore. There’s already enough guilt and disappointment riding on his shoulders.

"Got it. No porn." He smirks before he turns around, arms crossing over his chest, less in some display of defensiveness and more to hold himself together. But he doesn’t know how to respond to anything but bad jokes. "What if I wanna get laid? You gonna supervise me then too? Because not for nothing you’re probably just gonna give me performance anxiety."

The smile only lasts until she’s stepping in front of him, and it matters less that she’s shorter than him when he believes the words. It has his fingers tightening in his arms. It’s a threat, and that makes him want to push back against it, but what does that make him? The asshole that brought drugs into a house full of kids, and it has the sarcasm drying up on his tongue. “Okay.”

[eileen-savage-blog]

"Only if you plan on marrying her," Eileen comments with a sad sort of smile upon her lips, a silent snort of laughter as she gazes upon Eli. He'd one of hers, whether he likes it or not. And it matters less and less that he hadn't grown up under her roof. He'd been a part of their family, and some people seemed inconsolable after Samson and Eli turned to names and memories instead of physical bodies one could touch. It had been a difficult blow to their community. Still, she couldn't bring herself to blame Eli for disappearing. She'd done the same when she moved to Vegas.

If she doubts Eli would ever find someone he'd be willing to marry, it just makes her own comment more humorous to herself. Eli had always been a difficulty and bless any woman who believed they could put some leash around his neck and domesticate him. She had always told Jane to find a dumb man for herself, so she could continue to live her life the way she wanted. But Eli isn't some idiot and she counts herself fortunate that she'll never have to look upon Eli as her son-in-law to some extent. Because he'd tear through Jane, no matter how strong she is. He'd tear through anyone.

His acceptance is almost a relief, because fighting with her would only start them off on the wrong foot. Her palms comes to his cheek, a light, affectionate tap against his skin until her fingers hold his chin in place. "It's gotta get worse before it gets better," she tells him honestly, fully aware, and as prepared as she can be, for the hell he'd be living in the next few weeks. Months. However long this took.

Stepping away from him, Eileen walks back towards the door. "Towels are in the closet in the hallway. Bathroom's down the hall. The kids go back to school soon, but someone will always be here. Mostly me. Dinner is at six every night," she lists for him, and the way she states each word sounds as though Eli has little choice in the matter. He doesn't truly. He'd eat with the family, or he wouldn't eat at all. And she thinks that has less to do with her own set of rules and more to do with his detox that will make him ill. She turns to him then, fingers hugging the door frame as her lips set into a firm yet sympathetic line. "Welcome to the floor, kid."

[tragicflxws]

There’s a small smile when Eileen opens the door, though at best it’s just some nostalgia right now. The thought that no matter what else has changed, she still looks like he remembers. That three years hasn’t altered her all that much, or the house. And maybe the kids inside it won’t be anyone he remembers, but he didn’t know that many of them to start. He was bad with kids, and he didn’t see this going well.

There’s a moment of hesitation, the urge to turn around and go back the way he came. The only thing stopping him is the acknowledgement that there’s no point, that Jay would just stop him before he tried to go anywhere anyway. But even knowing that, it feels too final, like the second he walks across that threshold he’s just another kid under Eileen’s roof. And he hates the feeling it leaves him with.

"And you look the same." He shifts the bag on his shoulders a little higher, glancing back one last time to wave goodbye to Jay. Then he’s crossing that line, shutting the door behind him and trying to ignore how desperately uncomfortable he feels. All it does is remind him of that itch in his veins, and he almost turns around and bolts for the door.

"So what’re the rules? Do I have a curfew? Can I have company? How do you feel about strippergrams?" There’s a dry sarcasm to the words, as though he won’t obey them anyway.

[eileen-savage-blog]

"I've put on weight," the older woman states, lightly tapping a palm against her stomach with a natural complaint that effects even mutated individuals. And maybe that would end up being the best evidence the Bureau could have as to their validity as human beings. But there's still a small smile at Eli's words.

Eileen closes the door after Eli, casting something like a glare in Jay's direction, but it's far too affectionate to be anything serious and she'd never decline letting Eli hide away in her home. He had tripped up, crawling upon the ground and he'd need all the help he could get. And while most others probably wouldn't view it the same, any kid that walks through her door, even if they're just occasional visitors, becomes a part of her family. She'd always liked Eli. His mouth runs too much and his sarcasm would earn him a few slaps by some unappreciative women. But she always approved of his more stubborn qualities, in the loyalty he showed his brother. And while he might always be some form of a danger, she thinks the people surrounding him are the best reasons he'd stay grounded.

Leading him down the hall, Eileen scoffs out a laugh at his questions. "Curfew?" she mocks, shoulders continuing to jerk with a silent laugh, "As if I'd let you leave this house unattended for a second. You're what? Ten days in? Maybe a bit more? You'll get a curfew when you prove you can be trusted. And you can bet your ass, kid, that's gonna be awhile."

Stopping beside a door, she presses a palm against it to push it open, revealing a small, simple room. But it's obvious Eileen had prepared it for him. A twin bed in the corner made up as though the woman who owns the house used to work in a hotel. Domestic duties had always been something she'd excelled at. A small end table. A desk. A dresser for his clothes along with a closet off to the side. Simple, and if he wanted to decorate himself, she wouldn't mind. So long as it's tasteful.

"Give it a few days," Eileen informs him, "I may let you out with supervision. Mine or Jay's. No one else. Until I can trust them too. You can have company, but only if I say it's okay. And I decided where and when you have that company. No sitting alone so they can swap you something in your room. You've revoked your right to privacy."

Perhaps the nod to the window then indicates that, because it's locked tightly. But Eileen knows how powerful Eli used to be. And if he still is, not much would truly stop him. Except one touch from her hands. Ignoring the comment on strippers, although still casting a quirked brow of irritation in Eli's direction, she steps inside what would be his room for his period of detoxing. "Help yourself to whatever food is in the kitchen. Watch something on TV, but nothing risky. I've got younger kids here this time and if I catch you showing them some late night, HBO, naked women bullshit you won't have a single visitor for as long as you stay under my roof."

She doesn't make idle threats, never really had. Eileen always followed up on the promises she made. And if that promise is to make one's life hell, she'd do it. But any air of casual familiarity she has with Eli drops when she stops before him, an imposing figure of a woman despite her short stature compared to her newest ward. "And if I find a single centimeter of anything in this house, Elijah, what I will do to you will be worse than relapsing."

[tragicflxws]

It had been a few years since Eli had been standing on this porch, but if anything he thought that just made him more uncomfortable than he liked to admit. He didn’t get uncomfortable, he didn’t feel shame, and when he came too close to either of those he got mad or he shot up and either way it helped burn away the sensation that he was anything or anywhere he didn’t want to be. 

It was impossible to cling to now when he felt like he was begging for favors, when he was just another one of Eileen’s kids, just as reckless and just as lost. It had been Jay’s idea, and even putting it like that made it sound like he’d had much of a choice. The man had to go back to California eventually. He didn’t know if Cole was going with him, hadn’t asked enough about the man or his daughter, but someone with most of the rebellion riding on his shoulders couldn’t waste his time trying to babysit a junkie. Especially not one with only twelve days of sobriety, probably more than he’d had all year.

His fist hits the door before he’s stepping back, more nervous than he likes just what Eileen will have to say to him. It’s followed by a brief glance over his shoulder at Jay. His almost constant shadow since Christmas, and it’s probably why the next words lack bite. “You’re an asshole,” he says.

[eileen-savage-blog]

Eileen isn't concerned, even if perhaps she should be. It's more unsettling to have a ghost standing on her porch, someone who should've been dead. And yet, Eli Gray had been very much alive this entire time. Maybe that's why it hadn't been a shock when Jay approached her with a favor. Dead men never rise again clean. There's always the stench of decay lingering around.

The knock alerts Eileen to her new ward's presence. He wouldn't bother the kids. They had all been informed the minimal amount. His first name and why he's there. Along with rules on if they could speak to him and when. Mostly every guideline ended with running to fetch her. She'd keep Eli down. This isn't her first rodeo. She's raised too many kids. Too many rebels.

"Out of all the people to knock on this door, Eli Gray," Eileen starts with something like amusement, and possibly relief, written upon her face, "I never expected a dead man." And if there's something like affection in her voice, it's replaced by the dull drop of her features. "You look like shit," she tells him honestly, bluntly, because Eileen found no other way to be in life.

She sticks a calloused hand into the air to wave at Jay in the distance before she stands aside and holds the door open to allow Eli into her living room. "You don't want to, but ya might as well come in anyway."

[badluck-pat]

"Okay, now reheating I can do," Pat lets out an exaggerated breath of relief "And hey, reheating is like…. super hard, ‘kay? Ya look away for like five seconds the thing could just FWOOM! Blow up in your face… and I’m totally not speaking from experience." Pat says waving his hands in the air before he forcibly puts them back down to his sides.

Even though he had a good handle on his powers, there was no doubt that he still had his share of spills, mainly because his long gangly limbs were something he never really felt that he had control of outside of when he was using his powers or when he was consciously performing some up close magic trick for the occasional guest that seemed genuinely interested customer. 

He smiles when Eileen agrees with his sentiment. And why wouldn’t she? It’s Mama Bear after all. She was the one that taught him to always treat a lady right. And even on the extreme off chance that she didn’t agree, Pat felt like he was completely justified. Guy was a pig, so why not cost him a shit ton of his money and have that be the reason to eject him from the table and away from the woman.  ”Wait for real?” Pat asks furrowing his brow and squinting in confusion as he peers over the mug and at Eileen, “Sooooo guess that means I should probably stop making my Batman suit, doesn’t it?”

[eileen-savage-blog]

"You're not funny," Eileen informs him, the sip of coffee from her mug sparing something being thrown at him. Still, she doesn't want Patrick in the line of fire. He's a good kid. Kind, thoughtful. Perhaps a bit awkward, but they all have their faults. He has no business being some sort of superhero like some of these kids believe they are. She wouldn't approve of Jane running around in spandex fighting crime, but she doesn't think there's many a man that could best the young woman. She's tough, resilient. She'd been fighting with those rebellion soldiers for years now.

But Patrick isn't a soldier. He's a polite man, intelligent and giving. He deserves something more normal than fighting in the rebellion's ranks. Settle down. Get a nice career, marry someone. Have a couple of kids. Bring them over for holidays and Sunday dinners. Normal family things. And if there's slightly selfish reasons spurring these thoughts, Eileen doesn't give it much thought.

"The less trouble you get yourself into, the better," Eileen instructs, "Besides, Batman gets shot at. At least you can impart justice upon chauvinistic pigs with bouncers surrounding you."

[badluck-pat]

"Ah, gotcha. I’ll ask for the day off. And if it does rain, I’ll put a button on it." Pat nods understandingly because it was Todd’s event. As far as Pat was concerned, he would have full control of that day and what he wanted… so long as it didn’t involved underage drinking, drugs, or any sort of stunt having to do with a fire hose and poodle. Pat stops himself and makes a face at himself, wondering why it is in the hell he thought of those two things in the first place before he shakes it from his mind. 

"Cooking?" he winces. "Welllllll if you really trust us to then, we’ll do our best not to burn anything… I mean we won’t burn anything!" he adds quickly realizing that him of all people saying that sort of thing was not the most assuring thing in the universe. Sure he had good control on his powers and his bad luck was now well contained in that little box he always visualized and was only let out when he wanted it to, but the last thing he wanted to do was worry Eileen. 

The coffee he’d been making is done and he quickly pours himself a cup and brings over the pot, his cup and spare mug in case Elieen wanted to partake. “Oh you know, it’s good. Same old, same old, pays the bills and before you ask, no I haven’t used my powers against customers…. Unless you count that one jack ss that kept trying to grab this woman’s butt…” he muttered under his breath before innocently taking a sip of coffee. 

[eileen-savage-blog]

"You'll get your invitation in the mail when it gets closer," Eileen reassured Patrick, although he wouldn't be worried. He's family, and family is always invited first to everything. And if her family is larger than most, it's something that she's overwhelmingly grateful for, despite the extra time planning and cooking for a multitude of people. And, of course, dealing with the police when they show up on a noise violation. But even if everyone speaks in their indoor voices, it's too many people to keep completely quiet. Plus, there's always drinks to spare.

And the officers are usually quick to respond to noise violations at Eileen Savage's home. There's always a cup of coffee and a snack in it for them.

"No, I don't trust you and Jane to cook," Eileen clarifies, "Which is why everything will be mostly prepared already and you two just need to keep it warm. And if you two can't manage that then you can raise the kids and I'll stir the pot." She casts a snarky grin in Patrick's direction, a good-natured joke as she tosses aside the wad of bills. They can wait. They aren't as important as her family.

She smiles genuinely as Patrick brings over coffee, an extra mug for her because she'll always take a cup. She pours herself a cup, reaching for the small container of sugar she keeps on the table for lazy tendencies and shovels out a spoonful into her cup. Simple, just as she likes it. "He deserved it," she commends the boy with a nod, disgusted at the way a man could treat a woman like a piece of meat. Then again, it isn't uncommon and, if anything, she had taught some of her girls how to use that to their advantage. The idea to just let him touch you once. Because as soon as you get him alone, he won't have hands to touch you again. Jane had picked up on that lesson quickly.

"Don't get caught," Eileen warns, a suggestion Patrick probably doesn't need but she'll always worry about her kids, "Once in awhile for you vigilante justice, fine. I won't stop you. But none of this hero crap."

[badluck-pat]

"True," Pat chuckles quietly as he moves, "I mean, not liking magic is like saying puppies are lame." He says as though it were an obvious matter of fact. He always loved magic, it was one of the things beyond Elieen helping out that made him feel like he had a good handle on his powers. Simple and fast hand movements that required and forced him to exhibit a great deal of control; it helped him visualize controlling that almost uncontrollable power that brought bad luck his way. 

"Oh well, no skin off my nose. I’ll find my magic loving gal someday… or guy… you never know." Not like Pat had really felt anything towards men, but he wasn’t against it neither. Life was weird and crazy, you never know what could happen… either that or he’s back to the whole crazy cat man plan. Not sure how much Eileen would love that plan. 

Pat moves about the kitchen, remembering exactly where everything and even though Eileen says that she’s good on the coffee front, he still pulls out a coffee mug for her just in case. “Oh snap,” Pat exclaims, surprised but still taking care not to swear because you never knew what little ears would be lurking around the corner in this house, “He’s graduating already? Jesus, just a few months ago I was helping with test stuff. Ooh! Can I come to the graduation, pleeeeaasseee?” he pretends to beg, but there’s a real genuine excitement to be had there because he was just as invested in these kid’s lives just as Eileen was. 

[eileen-savage-blog]

"Of course you can," Eileen swears before casting a coy smirk up at the boy she raised, "As long as it doesn't rain. Then it'll be moved inside and I only get two tickets." It's unfortunate but the actual graduation doesn't matter. She gets one ticket, and she'd given Todd full control over who he thinks should have the second. And she's almost certain that he'll wind up giving it to another student with a multitude of siblings or one whose parents are divorced and have significant others. Todd had always been a gentle soul like that.

Besides, she already has the camera ready to record the entire thing. The rest of the family can watch when they like. "If it does, you can help Jane set up everything here for his party. Everything will be cooking, you two just need to make sure nothing burns," she informs him, finger in the air to emphasize that nothing is to be charred when she returns home. And there's a small flicker of doubt in her. That while she loves the two of them dearly, she doubts their ability to cook, even for themselves. She hadn't raised them to be masterful chefs.

Tossing another dull bill aside, she begins tearing open another, a phone bill, which shouldn't be too high. And to her delight, it isn't. Less scolding she'll have to do later. "How's your job treating you?" Eileen asks, folding the paper back into something small before tucking it back into the envelope. The money she owes is important, but it isn't as vital as checking on one of her cubs.

[maya-machado-blog]

"It’s my way," Maya sasses back, unable to really help it. She’s always on the defensive, no matter who she’s defending herself against. She doesn’t trust people with money or people who have their life together because they probably stepped on someone to get there. It’s a pessimistic way to think, but that’s just the way the world taught her to be and no matter how she looks at what’s happening around her, there’s not really much that can change that point of view at this point. The best people she knows live shit lives. 

"What have you done to earn my respect? Time doesn’t make the crime, lady," Maya spits back at her. She doesn’t respect her elders. If this woman knew where respecting her elders had gotten Maya, where trusting people who were supposed to be in a position of authority had gotten her. It meant a step father who lingered too long in her doorway at night or police officers who just shooed her away from store fronts instead of asking her if she needed help. It meant her brother going to prison instead and while most of that was Dylan’s fault, it still left her with a sore attitude towards authority. 

[eileen-savage-blog]

"It's a shit way," Eileen corrects with a scoff of laughter before taking another bite of her sandwich. Her own sandwich, she muses. One that she paid for. Still the kid's got bark to her, and whether she could actually back that up, the other woman could only guess at for now. But a mouth like that mixed with her, what one could guess were stealing habits would land this one in a lot of trouble one day. She almost thinks to offer help, but her home is for mutated children and she doesn't if this girl possesses any talents. And it matters little to her what her age is. Because she's young, but she's definitely older than seventeen. That wouldn't change Eileen's offer however.

"Little girl, big mouth," she muses to herself, dusting crumbs of toast off her fingers as she folds the newspaper to focus upon a particular article. "You won't gain people's respect unless you show it first. Assuming you deserve proof is just a child's way of acting like a big girl. You've done little to earn mine, as of yet, and I'm not jumping down your throat," Eileen explains calmly, attention still aimed towards the news article, "Still, I offer it. Because I don't know you. But, if you'd prefer to sit in silence then we can sit in silence. I have my paper. You have your half-eaten meal."

[badluck-pat]

Pat just smiles when Elieen smooths down his rumpled hair and smacks the side of his face because that’s what she always did to him and it just brought about that nice ‘welcome home’ feeling even more. “Hey, who do you think I am? I always keep my nose out of trouble. Safe as a pig built brick house,” he assures her, holding his hand as though he was saying ‘I surrender’. 

When Eileen plays with idea that maybe he met a girl or even a boy, he makes a face. That was the one question he always dreaded when coming back here because he hasn’t had much luck on the dating circuit. He was starting to think and resign to the very real possibility that he just might end up being a lonely cat lady… or in his case cat man… and not the Adam West character from the Fairly Oddparents neither. “Nooooo. No girl and no boy either…”Suddenly Pat snaps his finger when he remembers something, “Though I did give a girl my number a few days ago… don’t she’ll be callin’ me back though,” Pat pouted, his face falling, “Didn’t seem to be too fond of magic tricks. Or the whole… scrawny, cute, nerd thing I got going for me.” Pat sighs while doing a little awkward dance to further prove his point. 

"But like I said, ain’t being stupid, not causin’ trouble neither. Gotta be a good example for the kids, right? Oh! how are they by the way?" he asks as he makes his way into the kitchen and goes straight for the coffee pot. "You want me to make you some?" he asks, the action completely natural and effortless for him. 

[eileen-savage-blog]

"Then she isn't worth it," Eileen informs him absentmindedly as she settles at the kitchen table, tossing the stack of bills and letters onto the wooden surface before she settles into a rickety chair. She means the words however, and there will always be this desire to see her kids with the best life has to offer. Maybe she's too traditional in that sense but her kids deserve a shot at a normal life despite the coding of their DNA.

"A woman who doesn't like a bit of magic isn't worth your time," Eileen decides aloud, putting herself more into the conversation as she starts tearing open a boring, plain white envelope, "She's boring." And by the sound of the word, it might be one of the biggest insults she has to offer. Just because she wants the kids living under her roof to lead normal lives, doesn't mean she believes they should be dull ones.

Eileen nods her head at the offer of coffee. She could always use a cup of coffee, and it'll help her plow through these bills, along with the nice company. Pulling the folded paper out of the envelope, she mulls over the higher price of her electric bill with a disgruntled expression. "Damn kids," she mutters to herself, but there isn't much heart in the phrase. Just because she has to shell out a bit more in funds this week, doesn't detract her love for them.

"All good," Eileen informs Patrick as she places the bill back down upon the table, picking up another envelope and turning her gaze upon someone who's left her home, "Todd graduates in a few months. Then he'll be off to college."

[badluck-pat]

Pat leans casually against the door frame, his lanky arms crossed over his chest as he takes in his surroundings. It had been maybe two or three months since he last came by to visit, but never for a moment did he feel out of place here when he came back. Pat always guessed that he could leave for an entire year, come back and still feel just as comfortable and welcome as the he did when he was a kid. 

The moment he pushes himself off the doorframe, shuts the door behind him and heads over, he is immediately smacked by the stack of envelopes in Eileen’s hand. It doesn’t hurt in the slightest, but Pat still flinches and even goes the extra mile to mouth an ‘ow’ and rub at his arms. Pat lets out a little laugh before his face falls comically as he pretends to act hurt.   ”Whhhhaaattt? All these years and I’m still not family? You wound me, Eileen.” He’s about to say more, but soon enough Eileen is pulling him into one of her famous, warm hugs. 

Pat closes his eyes and smiles as he wraps his thin arms around the woman as tightly as he could because to him each hug was a way to show how much he cared for her and loved the woman. A small way of paying her back for everything she did for him. “Sorry I haven’t been around to visit lately.” he says more genuinely as he hugs her back. 

[eileen-savage-blog]

"You're a busy man," Eileen reasons, a raspy whisper in his ear before she pulls away, smoothing down the locks of his hair until she's gently smacking the side of his face in an affectionate manner, "As long as you're staying out of trouble." Her hand leaves his cheek to point a threatening finger his way, like she just might find a way to ground him for any wrongdoings and if anyone could find a way, it's Eileen Savage. The Mama Bear.

"Maybe you've met a girl," she offers, almost hopefully, because if she could raise a mutant kid successfully, and then see him married with a family of his own. What surrogate mother wouldn't. "Or maybe a boy, that's fine too," she adds with a shrug of her shoulders as she turns back towards the stack of bills, sorting through them again, "Just as long as you aren't being stupid."

Perhaps that's the only rule in Eileen's household: don't be stupid. If they break curfew and stay out late, she asks that they don't be stupid. And if she catches them, then they had been stupid and deserved their punishment. But usually, she's a bit proud of her rule breakers, as long as normal teenagers could break the same rules.

[maya-machado-blog]

The sandwich isn’t anything special. Some turkey sandwich with a spicy mustard on it and she makes a face when she also finds apple slices stuck between the bread. It’s too fancy, but it’s food and she’s got about a fourth of the sandwich left. Lucky that someone’s eyes were bigger than their stomach, at least. It would make for a pretty good meal and at least she could get it all down before the restaurant workers come over to kick her out. 

It’s the voice from the table next to her that has her attention rising to the woman. No one she knows, no one she cares to know. She’s stuck mostly to herself for a while now. The only people she’ll really talk to or even show any sort of sympathy or kindness towards are the people in similar situations as her. People who don’t have a roof of their heads or a place to call home. She at least has set up a good hideout for herself, where she can return to and at least feel some sort of comfort. 

"Does that bother you?" she snaps at the woman, attitude hitching the inflections in her voice. She doesn’t really care if the woman says yes. Doesn’t care what the woman thinks. "How ‘bout you mind your own business, lady?" 

[eileen-savage-blog]

"Bother me?" Eileen smirks at the idea, at the attitude this young woman has. It takes guts. It also takes stupidity in her book. The newspaper rustles in her grasp as she turns the page and flicks it into a stiff position, easier to read that way. "It's not way to live," the woman offers as her answer, "And that bothers me. As did that man's stench, however. I'd prefer to have some hoodlum next to me than that guy."

It's honest, the man who had sat beside her could've used a good shower. Maybe two, but the comments are mostly for her own enjoyment, mouth quirking into a small, amused smile as her eyes scan the page for anything that's truly newsworthy, and perhaps a few names she knows, just in case someone could be in trouble. And she thinks Eli Gray's name is the most likely to come up.

"How about you watch your mouth, young lady," Eileen demands, however, with a fierce sort of aggravation at the thief's temperament. And if she thinks, for one second, that the older woman will back down then she's in for a surprise. But there's still something calm about her, something similar to the silence before a storm as she continues to mull over her paper. "You could do with some respect for your elders."

[disxntegrate]

"If that’s really what he wants." Though he wonders even after he says it if he even believes himself. If he’ll be able to accept no for an answer this time. Anyone else, he would. He’d let them disappear, let them live their lives, because everyone had a breaking point. This wasn’t an easy life, with really only two ways out. The only question was how much got sacrificed before then.

But this is Eli. And he doesn’t know that he’ll ever believe it, even if the man looks him in the eye and swears he’s done. He knows him better than that, or at least he did. For Eli it was never about the cause. He could recognize that much even if he didn’t relate to it. It was about the power he had, the freedom that came with being able to use it for some higher purpose. Proving to everyone else that he was the strongest man in the room.

So he can’t believe he’s done. And he thinks this time it’s nothing he’ll be able to accept gracefully. “If he can tell me that to my face.” He offers a faint smile. “I’ll tell him you said hi.”

[eileen-savage-blog]

Eileen swallows the last sip of her coffee, a small hum of approval sounding in the back of her throat as she nods her head and casts a sneer in Jacob's direction. "Please do," she remarks dryly, before stepping back into the kitchen to put her mug in the sink. She'll wash it later, when she sans company and worrying over what time he'll return Todd home. She trusts Jacob enough with the boy, but that won't stop her from counting how many ticks she can hear from the clock on the wall.

"And give him a smack upside the head for me, would ya?" Eileen jokes, though she thinks Eli deserves it, hiding out from the rest of him like burying him dead is better than his presence in their lives. It's like a cruel trick. And if Jacob doesn't do it, Eileen will be sure to make him around for his stupidity.

[disxntegrate]

There’s a nod of understanding, aware it’s both a promise and a threat coming from her, but he doesn’t comment much more on that. He has no intentions of putting a teenage kid in harm’s way, and he’s at least grateful that the nature of a technopath means he doesn’t have to be. One of their fighters wears a Bureau badge, and from there it’s an easy step to letting him sit at a computer for ten minutes while he gets what Jay needs. If it’s a dangerous game they’re playing, it’s still low risk compared to what’s coming.

The shut door isn’t the only cause for silence after he says the words, and it probably says something that he feels some amusement at the surprise written on her face. He can’t say he doesn’t know the feeling. Expect the unexpected, but a dead man calling him out of the blue was a little bit beyond even his realm of expectations.

"Because he called me." And if that stirred some bitterness in him after the fact, it’s absent now. Now it just seems closer to hilarious, that the asshole calls him three years after he was supposed to be dead, just to ask a favor. It took balls, he’d give him that much. Which made the end of the conversation that much more surprising to him, because Eli was the last person he ever thought would check on the fight. "He asked for a favor. And then he told me to let him stay buried."

The words seem too simple for a thing that’s not, but the question of how he’s alive is one of the few that doesn’t need answering. They didn’t go back for the bodies. They didn’t think there would be any, because the explosion had wiped out a good corner of the compound. No one should’ve walked out of that. But they hadn’t checked, and if he carries guilt for it then it’s tempered by the knowledge that it’s unproductive.

"So, there’s that."

[eileen-savage-blog]

"There's that," Eileen agrees solemnly, still harboring that disbelief that Eli Gray is alive and well. Maybe not well, she could only guess on what his life is like now and she thinks the neglect of Samson's name means the brother is still dead. And she highly doubts Samson would have the same plan as his brother without informing the young man about it. Who knows. Maybe Samson is alive too and Eli's holding that a secret as well.

But why they'd want to stay gone and buried is beyond her.

"So, that's that then?" Eileen questions, the doubt obvious upon her face, because so far Jacob hadn't done the best job at keeping Eli secret if she's the second person he told. It's better than everyone from their past. But he's still opened his mouth and spoke Eli's name. "You're just gonna go back to pretending he's dead?"

[maya-machado-blog]

The outdoor patio to the diner was bustling this time of day and it was just the type of environment she needed to case the people sitting there. And the food left on plates when they got up to leave. She’d hoped the fence with ease, cloaking herself so no one would see and had slipped her way through the diner to the patio. All she needed was one plate of leftovers so she could sit down and treat herself to a free meal. Someone else’s meal, granted, but at least it would let her save her money for something more essential. If she could steal instead of buy, it always left her with more in her pocket than she would have if she’d lived honestly. 

Seeing her opportunity when someone gets up from one of the tables, the cloaking is gone and she slips into a chair with ease, leaning back like she’s not doing something that could get her kicked out. She supposes it just depends on how much the busboy is paying attention right now. They’d taken their bill up front to pay and this was the perfect little diner to be stealing scraps off of plates, just because the waiter never came back to the table after they dropped off the bill.

It’s the leftovers of a sandwich and she doesn’t hesitate to lift it up, sniff at it, and then take a bite. Best meal, and probably only, she’d have all day.

[eileen-savage-blog]

It's a late lunch for Eileen today, which made her more irritable with the amount of patients filing in and out of the office for a few hours. Wednesday must be a popular day to have holes drilled in one's teeth. When she had a free moment, she took the advantage of popping outside to stop at the small diner down the road. Always quick and efficient, and the waitresses usually know her by name. It always earns her a free cup of coffee.

Sipping from her mug, she mulls over the boring headlines on the newspaper draped over the small table, fingers pulling apart pages and pages of unfortunate circumstances in other people's lives. The paper is rarely full of positive things. Except the comics. Those are always enjoyable.

Taking another bite of her sandwich, she glances at the woman sitting to her right, noting that she isn't the man who had just been there a few moments before. She eyes her curiously, noting that she smells the food before eating it. Homeless, maybe. But definitely starving. She hadn't seen the young girl come in. Then again, she hadn't been paying much attention.

"You make a habit of stealing people's scraps?" Eileen questions dryly, eyes back on the newspaper before she takes a sip of her own coffee, one she paid for.

[badluck-pat]

Pat lets out a sigh as he continues down the road, dodging traffic as best as he could in that beat up old car of his, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he idly sang to the song on playing on the radio. Something about how someone’s anaconda don’t want none unless ya got buns, hun.  His feet ached as when he moved his foot from the gas pedal to the brakes, but that’s nothing he wasn’t used to after a long day of work. When the light in front of him turns green rather than turn right to head on home, Pat instead heads left.

 Yeah, he could call it in for a day, head to his apartment, make a grilled cheese and go straight to bed while Craig Ferguson played in the background, but he didn’t really feel like doing that today. It had been ages since he had gone back and to be honest he was feeling a little bit homesick for the place that was more of a home for him than his actual home back with his parents. Besides, it had been a while since he had stopped by to visit and that just didn’t seem right to Pat. Yeah, it might be late and some of the kids probably won’t be awake, but he’s pretty sure Eileen will be.

It doesn’t take long for Pat to reach the house and the second he hops out of the car he waves his arms around and spins around in a feeble attempt to rid himself of that stagnant casino smell that clung to his work uniform before heading inside. And sure enough the second that he enters that familiar doorway, he spots that familiar head of fiery red hair. 

"Aw, c’mon… you’re gonna start making me of all people adhere to office hours? How’s that fair?”

[eileen-savage-blog]

Eileen smiles down at the stack of envelops, shifting through them with either disinterest or irritation. But Patrick brings out grins in her frequently. He'd always been a kid who could make her smile, and perhaps that's because he took a little extra work to be made sociable as a kid. Every kid is worth the effort, she thinks, and she's had only a handful of failures of the past twenty some odd years. But Patrick had turned out to be one of the best, and perhaps it's selfish that she counts her biggest successes as the ones who make the visits home, the ones who still help.

And if Patrick and Jane complain about being the ones she turns to the most for help, they know better than to file that with Eileen.

"If you'd stop by more often, maybe I'd consider you family," Eileen retorts with a quirk of her brow, before smacking Patrick with the small stack of envelopes in the arm. It's then that she laughs lightly, opening up her arms widely to embrace the man in a large, strong hug.

[disxntegrate]

There’s a nod of his head when she asks for confirmation, even if he doesn’t think she needs it. It says something about the level of estrangement that Cole’s not aware of it yet, but there’s no uncertainty that he cares about his daughter. And he has no doubt in his mind that the second he hears it, he’ll want to smash down everything standing in the way of him getting to her, no matter who it gets killed. Including himself. And it’s not a sacrifice he’s willing to make. He’s lost enough friends already.

And while there’s no satisfaction in the situation, there’s some in her reaction. The curse that escapes her and how readily she goes to get the boy in question. He’s never met him personally. He knows he exists and for the most part that’s usually enough. They should get a chance to grow up before deciding whether they want to take sides in the war or not. Maybe some he presses harder than others, but he’s not in the business of forcing anyone. That’s the other side.

He settles his cup on the counter before stepping into the hall to wait, and it doesn’t take long before he hears two sets of feet on the stairs. Eileen’s quick to make introductions, and whether he needs them or not, he’s aware how jarring the words ‘I know who you are’ can be.

"Jay." He corrects her with a small smile, though he can’t say what the difference is, only that he’s simply more used to it. She’s earned the right to call him whatever she wants. And if he doesn’t necessarily like touching anyone more than necessary, he doesn’t hesitate to return the politeness, grasping the kid’s hand firmly. "It’s nice to meet you, Todd. I appreciate your assistance."

He shifts his attention back to Eileen afterwards, a grateful nod of his head, because the sooner he gets what he needs, the better. “I’ll have him home as soon as possible. But there was one more thing.” If it sounds ominous, he doesn’t mean to be. This one’s not a favor, at least not one he’s asking for. And he’s not sure whether it’s anything he should say when the man might not come back, but he thinks she’s been around enough that she’d like to know. He glances at Todd, polite smile on his lips even if the question is the opposite. “Do you mind waiting outside?”

The kid nods his head anyway, agreeing easily before giving the woman he calls his mother a hug. And he ducks his head out of some measure of respect while he waits for him to head outside. There’s only a brief pause after the door clicks before he says the words. “You’re only the second person I’ve told this, so I’d appreciate it if it stays that way, but I thought you’d like to know. Eli Gray’s alive.”

[eileen-savage-blog]

"That what your mother named you?" Eileen comments dryly, lips perched just above her mug before she takes a sip. She prefers full names, the ones their parents chose for them when they'd been mapping out their futures in baby books and restless nights. People always talk about the fears having a child brings forth, but so few mention all the aspirations one has for their kid.

She shakes her head as she swallows down the hot liquid. "Jay. Jacob. Whatever the hell your name is today," she sighs before turning her gaze upon Todd, "Call him whatever he wants." It's dismissive, because she doesn't much care what Jacob prefers. And if Todd ends up calling him Jay, she thinks it won't matter too much. The likelihood of him seeing the man again after this is slim. And he has college to attend first. Calling himself a rebel can come later.

"That boy comes home with even a scratch and I'll have your head, Jacob," Eileen warns before taking another sip of her coffee, back leaning against the wall to relieve some of the pressure sitting low in her spine, too many hours spent hunched at a desk during the day. And while she isn't much of a physical fighter, she's certain Jacob knows she means the words to a point. That if anything bad is to happen to one of her kids, she'll hunt him down and make him pay.

Todd walks over to her and gives her a hug, pressing his mouth against her cheek and Eileen smiles at that. All of her kids learn quickly to hug her goodbye and it's only a matter of time before a stranger looking in might think they do it because they want to, because they appreciate the woman that's taken them in. And some are always more affectionate than others. Todd is one of those boys. He's a sweet kid, smart and kind. And since he's the eldest in the group, he understands more of what his life with his father had been before. Scams and theft. And while she'd welcomed him into her home with open arms, she pitied his father. Because his son had become a money temptation.

"Be safe," she tells Todd as he does as he's instructed, the door clattering shut as it swings closed behind him. Eileen brings the mug back to her lips, another sip because she thinks she might need it for whatever else Jacob has in store for her tonight.

But the news isn't what she expects. Eli Gray. It's like hearing about a ghost, because, for a long time, that's what he had been. Just a ghost. She doesn't swear to keep the secret verbally, but Jacob would know by now that her word is good. And she's too busy trying to make use of her jaw once more to utter a syllable. "Eli?" she repeats, as though that will make it real inside her mind, "How the hell do you know this?"

[disxntegrate]

To some degree Jay thinks he dreads this part, and by the same token there’s almost something comforting about it. The number of people he confides anything to is limited to one hand, and that’s only where business is concerned. When it comes to personal matters, Cole occasionally fills that role but for the most part his lips stay shut.

What he’s planning this time, what he already knows, most of it hasn’t been shared with much of anyone. There are a few people who know bits and pieces, the things he needs them to so they can in turn get him what he needs. But right now there’s only a quiet rumble within their ranks of just what’s coming, because he doesn’t want to risk the kind of disaster that the last raid was. Most of the people he wants with him are already aware of it. The rest can find out when it’s over.

But he doesn’t bullshit her, well aware that if he wants to borrow one of her charges then it’s not fair to ask her for blind trust. He wouldn’t offer it to anyone anymore, not even Cole, even if it’s not the man’s fault. Just the beer he can’t sleep without. “Pelican Bay,” he tells her bluntly. His hands reach out for the coffee cup, fingers curling around it. And while she doesn’t ask for it, he offers up his motivations all the same. “Lucy Sawyer was black bagged and taken there last week.”

[eileen-savage-blog]

Every word that leaves Jacob's lips then is surprising. He's always been competent enough to handle small cases on his own, but he usually doesn't known on her door with anything major. This, however, is different. And while she isn't concerned for Todd, the seventeen year old who could've been robbing ATMs of all the cash inside and is, instead, studying diligently for his SATs, she is concerned for whoever goes on this raid with him. And she prays it's not anyone she knows well, none of her previous charges.

"Cole's kid?" Eileen asks, fingers curled around her ceramic mug as a look of disbelief crosses her features. People are black bagged every day, but it's always something horrifying when it hits close to home. And while she had never known Cole Sawyer all that well, she knows enough about him to know Lucy Sawyer is a name she can remember. And it's her naturally maternal side that feels a pang in her chest for the father.

Eileen only dares one sip of the steaming coffee before she curses under her breath, "Jesus. This is some serious shit." But if she'd been at all wary of pulling a kid out of bed to help Jacob, it's disintegrated now. She moves past him quickly to walk down the hall and jog carefully up the steps to not awaken the others who might be sleeping or jostling the coffee in her mug. Her knuckles quickly rap against the wooden door before she peeks her head inside.

"Got a job for you," she tells Todd, a wide-eyed teen with some electronic gaming device in his hand. She couldn't keep track of these gadgets he collects. He works hard for them, so she never questions what they are. "Put some pants on and come downstairs."

Eileen shuts his door for his privacy before making her way back downstairs and a young man shortly follows her. Todd is tall, bordering on lanky, and his dark, curly hair is cut short. A large, kind grin splits his face as he holds his hand out to Jacob to be polite.

"Todd, this is an old friend. Jacob," Eileen introduces, smirking at any introduction she gives between someone else and Todd, because his dark complexion always contorts the faces of new teachers who are introduced to her as his mother. Dumbasses.