B and Dany take a step towards freedom.
(B and Ruby belong to @hackles-up)
No cw in this one, except for general BBU setting. It's a short one, and bittersweet.
The kitchen in Frankie's small house is unexpectedly comfortable, the light of the sunset tinting the wooden cupboards orange, illuminating the mix of photos and pizza delivery flyers on the fridge.
He always dreamed of having his own house, but never had the money for it. I wonder if Ruby knows what he sold to afford it. Whom he sold.
There's people who would have killed him, were they in my place. Had he done it to them. Many, I guess. Yet I don't feel like revenge. I'm tired. All I want is to get away from here, get out of this country, leave it all behind. All but one person. One person, who needs Frankie's help right now. There might be better forgers in than him in town, but none of them would miss the chance to sell us out.
Frankie has already. He won't do it again.
"Name?" Frankie asks, not taking his eyes off the laptop in front of him. The program he's using looks odd, old-fashioned and sloppy at the same time, but I guess that's not what matters. What matters is what will come out of the printer next to him.
"B", says B with a frown.
"That's a letter." Ruby, Frankie's... pet? girlfriend? - I don't get it and I'm not certain is I want to - seated at the counter with a cup of tea, rolls her eyes. "Who uses a letter as a name?"
My skin prickles and I have to force myself not to ball my hands into fists. "Well, who uses a hair color as a name, Ruby?"
"Frankie picked it." Ruby runs a hand through her red hair, smiling. "I learned to like it."
"My savior picked mine," B says. His voice is laced with grief and pain. "It's my name."
Frankie looks up from the screen, his gaze brushing over B with a frown before it settles on me. He sighs. "Babe. I'm doing this for you. And I need to get it done fast. So. What name do you want in your pet's passport?"
"I am not your babe. He is not -" He is not my pet. I can't say it. Not in front of him. I told him I could be his owner. I can't say the contrary now. I reach aside and find B's hand.
His fingers interlace with mine, warm and soft. It feels almost natural. It feels good.
I start again. "He... He's able to speak for himself."
"Well then, pet. What's it going to be? Your new name?"
I want to chime in, rebuke Frankie, explain the situation to B, but he lifts his chin. "B... Ben," he says.
"Ben?" Frankie raises an eyebrow and types into his keyboard. "Benjamin, or...?"
"Just Ben." He casts a side glance at me, as if he's waiting for my approval.
All I can do is nod. Ben. Just Ben. My throat feels constricted. B picked a name. His own name.
"Ben," he repeats, as if he's tasting the name.
Ridley has bragged to me about who B once was. The he'd once had. Daniel. Dan. Ben. It feels right.
His grip around my hand tightens, and I realize maybe it's just a reply, to my own hold of him. "Ye... Yeah," I whisper. "It's a good name."
"Ben." I think I can see the hint of a smile on his lips, but I don't dare look long enough.
"Geez, guys. Yeah. I've got it," Frankie says. "Ben. Great. Last name? Date of birth? Place of birth? We don't have forever."
We come up with those quickly enough, and a short while later, Frankie puts a blank passport sticker into the printer. "Takes some time now," he says and presses some keys. "Calculating security patterns. But we're getting there."
I watch the printer whir and do its job, slowly producing our chance at a future. For the first time, I'm almost ready to believe in it.
"Ben," I whisper, and rest a hand on B's cheek.
"Yes, Dany?", he replies softly.
"Um." He looks at me, a little consternated at the question. "Yes?"
I pull him down towards me. His lips find mine, and I don't let go of him until there is a brand new passport on the table next to us.
