“oh, oliver! i’m out and about today, in maine, where i live now! in case you failed to glance at facebook in recent years and whatnot. milling about, i happened to think of you! i glimpsed some photography in a store window and the thought of your expeditions as a photojournalist sprung to mind. so, i wonder how you fare? i believe our daughters spent some time at the shores together, did you know my husband and i visit there every summer? we purchased a house on the water. you know, we never did — “ the line cuts short. a car hit a pedestrian, phone flung into the street. it reads: call ended, oliver reyes.
(1) incoming call from ➤ georgia
“faye! you have your phone on at all times. so, perhaps, you chose to ignore this call or i infuriated you with my choice of dress last night. who knows! i need to vent. what a literal verb. i digress! let the enthralling study of the english language be put aside from another day. i think i liked oliver, faye. what an atrocious verb. he enamored me at the start of summer? while conversing with him, i did not feel as i ambled through a funeral parlor, chatting with cadavers and corpses as i went through. as i often feel at high society parties with their, what, tedious dinner conversation, overflowing glasses of their cosen poison, and clothes so stiff they could make a nun squeal. he made me feel alive. but such feelings have faded and i value his friendship more, but i do not believe i can trust him. always running, that boy. i’ll speak to you later, yes?”
time frame: taking place directly after a warning.
location: room 116.
involved: mallory rossini and oliver reyes.
Oliver: He didn’t knock on Mallory’s door as much he fell into it, his body shaking from pain and exhaustion and fear and sadness. He almost fell forward as the door open, catching himself on the doorway. “I f-fucked up, Mal,” he managed, his expression blank. “I fucked up really bad.”
Mallory: Mallory had just finished removing her heels after returning back to the hotel after what turned out to be quite the night, which she wasn't sure whether to categorize as positive or negative just yet. With a sigh, she made her way across the room to begin changing out of the clothes chosen for the occasion when she was startled by a thump at her door, brows furrowing as she walked the opposite way instead to open it and inspect what had caused the noise. The brunette wasn't sure what to expect, but she could have never thought that a bruised and broken Oliver would be at her door. "Oh my god, Oliver," her voice was high in distress, hands hovering over her mouth before she reached out to take hold of him, cautious and afraid of touching him anywhere it would hurt. "You... oh my god, who did this to you? Just. Come in, come here, I'll clean you up."
Oliver: Oliver saw her expression and felt his heart sink, wondering suddenly if he should have gone and asked anyone for help after all. He pushed that thought quickly from his mind; he wouldn't have been able to take care of himself, but he didn't want to put anything more on Mallory than she already had to deal with. "D–Dunno," he murmured, reaching forward and grabbing on to her shoulder and dragging himself into the room. "I...It was dark, most of the time. They caught me at the party–Shit, Mal," he said, his voice breaking.
Mallory: Mallory attempted to hold on to him the best she could, directing the pair towards the bathroom so she could have the proper tools to rid him of the worrying amount of blood staining his skin and clothing. "You'll.. you'll be okay, it's okay," she tried to tell him, "I just don't know why someone would want to hurt you. Why would anyone do this?" The last few phrases were mostly whispered to herself, though he would most likely hear from how close they were, with him leaning against her as she pulled him into the bathroom and switched the light on.
Oliver: Oliver groaned as they moved, wincing whenever any of his limbs moved the slightest bit in the wrong direction. His breathing was shaky and his mind was a blur, and he was bleakly aware of Mallory leading him to the bathroom, collapsing on to the (closed, of course) toilet and tilting his head back, his eyes closed. At her question, he felt his throat tighten, like all of emotions of the last few weeks that came with keeping this secret were finally coming to light, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to speak without breaking down entirely. "I fucked up, Mal," he repeated, opening his eyes and looking at her despairingly. "I fucked up. I–" He winced, reaching a shaking hand to wipe his mouth as the now all-too familiar metallic taste of blood came back. He coughed, groaning again.
Mallory: As soon as he was on a solid surface, Mallory was fretting over him with her hand smoothing back his hair, eyes flitting about his face and the shirt she'd seen him wear at the party, now ripped with the force of how they'd hurt him. "It's okay, you're here now, you're going to be fine, okay?" she told him, voice steadier than before because she knew that to deal with this she had to be strong enough for the both of them. Something happened, something more than just being attacked at the party, that much she could gather from the few phrases he'd spoken and his reaction to her questions. She just didn't want to push him, so she left him for a few seconds to find a washcloth and rinse it under warm water, teeth sunk into her lower lip as she faced him again to clean the blood off of his face. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hide the way her hands shook as she brought the cloth up to his cheek. "No one can hurt you here, okay? It's just me, Oli. It's just me."
Oliver: He nodded mutely, trying in vain to calm himself down as he steadily became more and more anxious about the fact that they'd found him, that they'd known where he was, and probably knew where to find him again. What would they do next time? Would they beat him up again, or would they go after the people around him? He winced slightly as the rag made contact with his skin, but didn't protest. "It was the last time I was in Vegas," he said slowly, his words coming out in a low whisper and his expression haunted, as if he was re-living the story as he was telling it. "I–I was gambling. I was winning, and I thought I could...I could win more. I went up against these guys, these...these pro type of guys, Mal. I was so stupid." He sniffed, fighting back tears. "I lost. I lost and I lost too much and I couldn't pay them back and so I ran and I came to Gulfshores and–" He was getting overwhelmed now, breaking off as tears finally began to roll down his cheeks. "It's my fault. It's all my fault. It's all my fault..." He repeated the phrase over and over, shutting his eyes and shaking.
Mallory: Mallory instinctively retracted her hand for a moment upon seeing him wince, but she knew that it would hurt and couldn't stop just because of that, no matter how badly she didn't want to add to however much pain he was already feeling. She continued using gentle swipes of the washcloth against his skin, soon becoming soaked with the blood it took from his skin as she listened to him spill his secrets to her of why he ended up in the situation that landed him in her hotel room. Soon, the cloth began ridding him of the tears falling from his eyes along with the thumb of her previously unoccupied hand, shaking her head at his repeated words although he couldn't see her. "It's not your fault, you didn't know that was going to happen. You didn't know, you couldn't have possibly helped that. You weren't stupid, you just didn't know," she spoke with such conviction, so sure of her words because she didn't want him to think that it was all his fault like he'd been believing for so long. "They must've seen that you weren't as experienced as them and took advantage of it, they knew what they were doing. They just wanted to feel powerful, and they used you in the worst way. I'm so sorry, Oliver, I'm sorry that they did this to you."
Oliver: Oliver let her wipe his face like he was a child, his sinking hands hovering just above his legs as he wondering whether or not to try to do it himself. He couldn't stop himself from crying now, every wall and every lie that he'd built up suddenly dissolving, revealing Oliver Reyes for what he truly was; a coward. "It is my fault," he said with as much for as he could muster, which meant it went from a whisper to a low murmur. "I should've stopped. I got cocky. And now–and now I fucked up. And they're gonna come back, Mal," he said, looking up to look into her eyes. "They said this...this was just a warning. They're gonna come back. They know everything, Mal, they know everything." Choking out another sob, he reached a shaking hand and tried to take the rag from her, only making it far enough upwards to barely brush the girl's hand before dropping limply back into his lap. "I can't do this," he whispered, almost as if he hadn't heard Mallory's words. They were in his mind, somewhere, trying to bring him back, but he was spiraling into the darkness that he'd been running from for so long, and it didn't look like there was any way out.
Mallory: Upon the knowledge that they told him what they did to him was only a warning, her heart stuttered painfully in her chest and her worry increased tenfold. There was absolutely no way that they could do any worse than this, they must have bruised a rib or two and left him nearly completely covered in bruises and cuts. It pained her to know that he was so afraid, and she was absolutely terrified for him, so she couldn't even imagine how it felt for him. "You can do this. You can, you're going to be okay, Oliver, I won't let anything happen to you. You're going to stay here where they won't know you are, and I'm going to take care of you, and we're going to go right back to Gulf Shores once this is over and they won't be able to find you there." Mallory scrambled for the right thing to say, that would take some of the burden off of his shoulders, that would help him not worry so much. Reaching back to turn on the water once more, she left it in the sink so the blood would go down into the drain and turned back to him with her palms just barely resting on either side of his neck as she met his eyes with her own. "I mean it, when I say that I won't let anything happen to you. If you want to get a plane to wherever in the world right now, I'll book it for the both of us. We'll go to Sudan, or Brazil. I'm here for you. I'm always going to be here for you."
Oliver: Oliver looked at Mallory with wide eyes as she spoke, unable to understand how she was able to say these things. Here he was, stripped of all of his defenses, and she still seemed to see him as a good person, even if he didn't. "I'm bad news, Mallory," he said, shaking his head. "I...I leave without warning. When anything goes bad for me or gets boring I just–I just go. And I fuck up a lot, and I do stupid shit like, like this. How can you know it's gonna be okay?" he asked, sounding confused and desperate, unable to believe that anyone would consider him any sort of person worth saving after learning the truth. Hayes and Walker wouldn't be able to be around him anymore if they knew what happened–he didn't blame them, but he couldn't imagine a life without them. He couldn't imagine a life without Mallory, either, but it didn't seem like she was going anywhere. He felt himself flinch slightly as she placed her hands on his neck, cursing himself for it and quickly saying; "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He looked up at her, his mouth open slightly. Unable to think of words to describe what he wanted to say, he leaned forward (more like fell) into her, wrapping his arms around his and tearing up again. That was the only way he could think to say thank you.
Mallory: Mallory knew that there was far more damage left to discover when it came to his injuries, that she would definitely have to calm him down enough so that she could focus on the extent of his pain and what she could do to help, but right now he needed to hear these things. She needed him to know that he wasn't alone in this, that she would stand by his side no matter what the situation or what he thought of himself. "Coping mechanisms are different for everyone, and it's okay to deal with things in your own way, even if it's not healthy. You aren't weak or stupid for doing those things, okay? You have your way of dealing things just as others do," she made sure that he knew just how she believed the words she spoke, because she didn't want him to doubt himself or think that she was only saying things he wanted to hear. "You don't have to apologize, it's okay, it's okay, Oliver," Mallory shook her head at his apologies, but her words faltered when he embraced her, tears of her own coming out to play as she buried her fingers in his hair and held him as close as she could while still being cautious about how much pain he was in. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. I'm here for you, I'm going to always be here for you, I promise."
Oliver: Oliver felt his emotions shift, changing from complete despair to just deep, deep sadness. Mallory was leading him to the light at the end of a very long tunnel, and even if she'd just moved him a few steps, it had been enough to make a slight difference. He wasn't alone in this. He'd never be alone in this. He buried his face in her shoulder and just sobbed, unable to stop himself anymore and giving up on trying. He'd been doing a lot of that tonight; giving up. He held her tightly, almost as if she was anchoring him to whatever bit of sanity he had left in the moment. "I'm so tired, Mal," he whispered finally. "So tired of it all." His entire body still ached, his shoulder and his leg pounding, his face stinging, every breath sending bolts of pain through his system. A hospital might have been the better option for him, but that would lead to too many questions he couldn't answer.
Mallory: She knew that she'd just been repeating the same things over and over again, but she wanted to make sure that it got to him, that he understood that she truly meant what she was telling him. There was no way that she would abandon him in his time of need, or any time at all. Mallory clung to him and pressed an affectionate kiss to the top of his head, nodding at his words in agreement as well as understanding. "I know. Let's just finish this up so I can take you to bed, alright? Tomorrow we'll check for any broken bones and things like that, but I can at least get the blood off of you," she told him, reluctantly pulling back from their embrace to give him a small little smile, and it wasn't long after she picked up the cloth from the sink that he was pretty much free of blood, which was good for the hotel because she didn't want them to find their sheets soaked red. "C'mon, let's get you to sleep," Mallory finally let out with a sigh, helping him up from the toilet so that she could walk him to Ryder's bed, since she sincerely doubted he would be returning that night.
Oliver: Oliver nodded, sitting stone still as she cleaned him off except for the occasional flinch or wince of pain. He wasn't calm, he wasn't okay, and he probably wasn't going to be for a little, but he was in slightly better shape than he had been when he'd been lying in the alley, wondering if he ever wanted to get up. "Sleep," he echoed quietly, letting her help him into a bed and shifting around until he found a way to sleep that didn't hurt very much. "Thanks, Mal. Love...you..." he mumbled as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep, exhaustion finally winning over.
georgia peach: no no faye like i weirdly had a lot of fun last night?? i don't know i didn't even think about the whole situation with xander and hayes
georgia peach: oliver just made me laugh and enjoy myself idk it felt organic
georgia peach: if these phones send one more text to the wrong person, i am going to write a heavily worded complaint to the phone company!!
