It's That Kind Of Night

[Macbeth]

She looked at him like he was an idiot, which she was starting to suspect he was. "You can't just live here. Newsies live here. You're a cop! What the hell are you gonna do, go around selling papes while questioning the customers about their lives of crime? 'Sides, newsies don't like the bulls, if you ain't noticed. Someone's gonna figure it out."

[Ershey]

"I'll figure it out," he mumbled under his breath, trying to convince himself that he could simply go on pretending as a newsie. Despite how he felt, he knew Macbeth was right. Maybe it was right to leave Adri alone. Here he was, looking for her... and now, he had to turn her in. Some older brother.

[Macbeth]

She sighed and massaged her temple. Chances are she would've been a lot angrier and more dramatic about all this if she didn't have such a pressing matter on her mind. "You know anything about child custody laws?" she asked out of the blue.

[Ershey]

Risk frowned, looking at Macbeth with concern. "What's going on with Jo?"

[Macbeth]

She opened her mouth, closed it, and fixed him with a death glare, but only as a warning. "You realize if you get involved in this and make me lose her, I'll kill you for real? I mean actually hunt you down and kill you if it takes me my whole damn life?" She wasn't telling him anything until they were clear on that.

[Ershey]

"I've known that since the first time I met you," said Risk, shooting her a look. "It's not new news to me."

[Macbeth]

"Well...good." She twisted around to face him, and the death glare was replaced by something that was as close to panic as the expression of the fearless Lady Macbeth had ever come. "Your Brooky friend, Tristan? He's Jo's father. Or at least, he's the guy who fucked Ada nine months before Jo was born." Her fingers clenched tightly on the railing. "I told him she's dead. And he'd said he'd kill me if I was lying. If it even occurred to him that I was lying, I've gotta get her outta there," she said feverishly, thinking of the orphanage, which was in bloody Brooklyn. "Tomorrow. I'll bring her here tomorrow. Will you come with me?" she asked bluntly.

Because the closest thing she had to muscle was her best friend's formerly abusive drunk of a brother, who apparently doubled as an undercover cop. This was just plain typical of her life.

[Ershey]

((LOL I love their relationship ))

"Uh..." started Risk, trying his best to process all the information that Macbeth just mentioned. So, Tristan -- the Brooky -- who he suspected of being a part of the Ericson murder is Macbeth's sister's niece's father?

"I'll come with you... but, a baby? Here in this house?"

[Macbeth]

((Me too. So much.))

"You got a better idea?" she snapped. "It won't be for long. I'll find another place...get an apartment, maybe...some kinda job...I'll..." She slumped against the railing, and for one horrifying second, thought she might actually start crying. "You ain't got any idea what you're gonna do either," she muttered instead.

[Ershey]

"It's good to know I'm not the only one flailing around here," he muttered, chuckling softly. "If you ask Adri to help you out, I'm sure she would... y'know, since you two are best friends and all."

((I really need to start using Risk's account more hahahah))

[Macbeth]

((You do! I miss him. ))

"What's she gonna do? Help with Jo, maybe, but she ain't going up against Tristan Shamien." She shook her head. "I can't let him find out...I gotta talk to Raven," she said suddenly, the realization hitting her only now. "We'll stop there first tomorrow...she and Spot, they're the only ones who know about Jo 'sides you and Ershey. And they know Tristan. They might've told him already..." She sighed raggedly, looking up at the sky for guidance. "And you have to sleep off all that beer and think of a story to tell your cop friends...and...and we gotta get him inside," she finished, gesturing at Race.

It was all too much. The past twenty-four hours had felt like forty years. She didn't even feel like killing anyone right now. She just wanted to sleep forever.

[Ershey]

"Just wake me up in the morning," sighed Risk, standing up from the step and stretching. He had a feeling he'd forget everything... or parts of it, at least.

[Macbeth]

"Oh, not yet you don't," she informed him. She went over to Racetrack and draped one of his arms around her, heaving with all her might, which didn't accomplish much. "Help. Now," she demanded. "He did it for us once."

[Ershey]

"Oh, right, Race," muttered Risk, walking over to his passed out friend and slinging his arm over his shoulder. He'd almost forgotten about him with all the fuss that had happened.

[Macbeth]

Beth helped drag him inside and sling him onto the couch that Ershey had luckily vacated. Acting on some dim, alcohol-tinged memory, she got a glass of water from the kitchen and set it by the couch. Then glanced at Risk. "Well. 'Night." And what a strange and awkward night it had been.