@zephyrjcksn
Cold wind. This November weather here in Chicago bit into the skin as Theo sat outside the club. He was smoking, he never smoked. He hadn’t lit up a cigarette in nearly ten years. His heart was beating quicker from the rush of unfamiliar nicotine, eyes fluttered and his hand hurt. Cigarette balanced on light lips under the city lights, the neon and hallogens that made up Chicago. He hated them sometimes, but they were home. They seemed to emanate and air that screamed for the world to burn. Burn it would. Between his mistakes, the things falling apart in his head, it was all a lot for Theo to take in and his mind wouldn’t stop racing. He needed to just scream ever since that night.
Hence the taste of burning cancer on his lips. He wished it would rain, the cold could tear down onto him in a more forceful way. His black suit, thread count higher than his damn IQ clung to him in the cool night weather. His body seemed to be aching everywhere, in particular in his stupid hand. Cat had done what she could that night, but it hadn’t mattered, he’d fractured a couple bones. The Doctor had set them, chiding him for trying to get involved in a terrorist situation, Theo had wanted to tell him to fucking die, but he had bit his tongue. The pain still coursed through him, though he had nearly refused his pain pills. His pain killer of choice involved a bottle and a long drink.
The cast and metal placed around his right wrist, fingers barely able to move, throbbed. He was glad in the long run that he hadn’t refused the medicine, the bottle popping with a sickening snap as he opened it. Tossing the clear plastic up to his lips and swallowing the pill. Cigarette having to be moved to make the connection with the chalky pill. He swallowed it dry, a lump in his throat, body feeling the dry clump of pharmaceutical science as he downed the mess of chemicals. He hated drugs. Hated the drug trade that made the Kovalis and by proxy himself wealthy. He hated himself most of all though, wishing he had been less of a piece of shit and more of the man that Sera had needed that night. Zephyr, fucking hell, Valentine, would have been a better choice for protecting Sera. They wouldn’t have let her be taken and gotten themselves broken in the process.
He lifted the stick back to his lips, finishing it off in a sick drag as he shoved the bottle of pills back inside his jacket. The night was long and he was dreading having to go talk to the man inside the damn closed club behind him. Zephyr Jackson. Arguably the only person on the planet that Theo trusted to not kill him, the one man he could easily say had actually saved his life before, he had failed him. He had failed Zephyr like he was some common thug. He knew his skills had never lay in fighting, no Theodore Dolion was a talker. A damn good public speaker, debate expert and talented as hell lawyer. He knew all of that in his soul, but the reality of it was that when it came time to protect someone he cared about in the slightest, he had failed horribly. He felt like his mind was going to collapse in on itself before he even talked to Zephyr, he had actual guilt, he wasn’t the stoic manipulator he had always promised himself that he would be, he had given into emotion and he was going to destroy that line of feeling before it took over and broke who he was on an internal level.
The cigarette finished fully, he tossed it out into the gutter. The bit of fire still evident on the end of it, flicking through the air as it landed into the concrete. Cars flashed by with a bright flick, he stared them down, knowing that it was unlikely that the car had anything to do with him or any part of their business. It was nearly impossible in a city this size, but they had been attacked, they had been nearly destroyed by a calculated hit on that damn boat. Nothing would ever get Theo off edge again, he didn’t trust this city and he didn’t trust nearly anyone in the world anymore, not even his old friends and lovers, Zephyr was different though. Zephyr was the one person in the world that he knew wouldn’t fuck him over in the long run.
Tucking his shirt in again slightly making sure that the dark fabrics weren’t bunched and that he looked good. Theo knew that he always looked good, it was a selling point. Half of convincing others to do anything was your look, not what you said, he was going to make sure that he was at the top of the game when it came to what he was capable of controlling himself. He moved to the door and without thinking, he moved to open it with his broken hand, cursing under his breath before moving to throw the door open with his good hand. He stepped inside, the smell of alcohol and various colognes played at his nostrils when he let the door clamp closed behind him.
Theo made his way across the club. Chairs on top of tables, shut down for the night. He ran his fingers along the wood, casually checking for dust the way he had been taught when he had gone through a formal school for etiquette, he didn’t even know why he did it anymore, it was just a habit. He found none, Sera and Zephyr always kept a clean and well managed club. He didn’t see Zephyr at all, he knew Sera wasn’t here. Still in the hospital, again because he had failed his only friends. His feet slapped wood as he walked across the room, stepping behind the bar with a soft sigh, “Get your shit together, Dolion.” He said to himself in the empty room.
He assumed that Zephyr was in the office, the last time he’d been here was with Sera in that same office. He had made plans, ones that were probably going to fall apart if Theo didn’t nail down some points on it soon. None of that mattered, he had gone to see Sera, she had been kind enough, but he still blamed himself in his core. He managed to lift one bottle of whiskey out from behind the bar, setting it on the wood top. He tilted the bottle to pop the top off and onto the counter. Took him longer working one handed, but he grabbed a glass, they were chilled in a fridge behind the bar, a nice touch. Beautiful golden liquid hit the glass as he tipped it, watching the glass fill about halfway. He licked his lips as he finished, popping the top back on to the whiskey, leaving it on the counter.
Whiskey in hand now, he took a sip, knowing Zephyr wouldn’t care that he was taking a free drink, he would have been offered one anyway. He moved slowly, leaning into the office door, his broken hand’s cast knocking against it before pushing the door open, immediately catching the sight of Zephyr. He didn’t say anything at first, just staring at the other man as he pushed the door open fully. He stood, swirling the glass in his hand, just looking at Zephyr before he took a slow sip, tipping it up to his lips as he tasted the warm liquid, swallowing, “Fuck us right?” He finally spoke, sighing as he stared at Zephyr, “I owe you. Many apologies.”