Things That Go Bump At Night (c)

[Macbeth]

Macbeth nodded reluctantly and squeezed Ershey's hand. She knew she'd be making this up to her for months, if not years, to come. If you even live that long, she thought, wondering how far Tristan and Jimmy got in their shooting spree before one bullet cut it short.

She headed up the stairs to the boys' bunkroom and found Goblin doing something mysterious with a deck of cards. He looked up when she came in, then hopped off his bunk and stared at her. "Is it...over, then?"

"For us," Beth snapped. "Sure as hell ain't over for you, though." And she jerked her head for him to follow her.

Goblin trailed her back down the stairs, all of his questions going unanswered, and it wasn't until they were heading down into the familiar, gloomy basement that he started wondering whether he was about to be assassinated by his own agents. Which would just figure.

[Risk]

Risk had been waiting patiently for Macbeth to return with Goblin. Once he heard footsteps coming towards the basement, his hand went immediately towards his switchblade. Seeing that it was Macbeth and Goblin, he let his hand fall as he let them inside. The minute that Goblin stepped inside, Risk took a swing at his face, all frustration and fury now coming out as he saw the person who started it all.

[Goblin]

Goblin took the blow, stumbled backward, and caught himself on the railing. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust so he could even make out who had hit him. He wiped blood off his mouth and sighed, wondering what had gone wrong and how far they were planning to take this. "You didn't have to do any of this, you know," he pointed out. "You volunteered, remember?"

Macbeth stood behind Goblin and watched them both like a hawk; she wouldn't let this go too far, though Goblin didn't look particularly inclined to fight back.

[Risk]

"Yes, I volunteered, I know that -- but this isn't just some game," spat Risk, stepping towards him. "You're trying to get back at people? Fine. But Macbeth and I could've been stuck there... Ershey could've died and who knows what would've happened if we didn't have Tristan there either. It's not a fucking game and you're just sitting here at the house playing with your cards while we run around do everything for you."

Sammie watched the scene in awe. That guy planned this whole thing? And had everyone else do his work for him? She raised an eyebrow at him and wondered if they were even going to torture her at all.

[Goblin]

He shook his head. "Do you think I'm even in charge of this thing anymore? I was done with it after the Refuge...after what happened to Script. And then Tristan had his vendetta, and you had yours, and the plans were already in place, and I thought we might as well finish the damn thing. And no one told me anything about Ershey." He looked around for any other assailants lurking in the shadows...and finally noticed the girl tied to the chair. "What the...?"

[Risk]

Sammie rolled her eyes at them. Amateurs.

"Did you just bring me here for decoration?" she muttered, narrowing her eyes at Risk.

[Goblin]

Goblin glanced at Risk, took a couple of cautious steps toward Sammie, and stared at her. He recognized her from the other night--the girl who came here to take Gypsy away. "What the hell did you bring her here for?" he asked incredulously. Taking prisoners hadn't ever been part of the plan. Of course, neither had kidnappings or rapes, and those had been abundant.

[Risk]

"They took Ershey, so we took her," replied Risk, now doubting what he'd just done. Why exactly did they take her? Oh yeah. To make things hard for Goblin.

"You guys don't know what you're doing," muttered Sammie, snickering at them.

"Shut up!" yelled Risk, glaring at her. "Just... stay there."

Sammie snorted. "I haven't moved."

[Goblin]

Goblin was still staring at her. She was just a kid. Clara's age, maybe. But all he could think was that she worked for Monk Eastman, the man who did those things to Maggie. "I'll take care of this if you want," he said coolly to Risk and Beth without turning around. "If you've got something I can use."

Macbeth, who still had several blades left, froze. And then she remembered how Sammie had shot at them. At her and Risk. At Ershey. She reached under the hem of her blouse, hesitating, glancing at Risk.

[Sammie]

Sammie visibly clammed up when she saw what Macbeth handed to Goblin. Sure, they were amateurs, but they were amateurs with blades. And that made all the difference.

"She's yours," muttered Risk, putting his hand at the small of Macbeth's back and led her outside.

[Goblin]

Goblin was alone with her then, and he barely felt the bruise on his face anymore. This was the real punishment for everything he'd done. Yes, he'd planned and orchestrated murders--plenty of them, if you counted the whole Eastman Gang--but this was incredibly different. And instead of getting it over with, he found himself pulling up a chair and sitting down across from her. "So," he said coldly to the girl. "Nice boss you got."

[Sammie]

Sammie frowned at him and looked at him in surprise. "U-Uh, yeah..." she stammered, not quite sure what he wanted to do with her. She'd work with Eastman for years and this guy was just going to talk to her? Really?

[Goblin]

Before he could stop himself, he was doing with her what he did with everyone--studying her face, checking for emotions, reactions, truth or lies. "How'd you get into it? Why?" Damn it, she couldn't be any older than Clara. He told himself it didn't matter, that he didn't even want to know.

[Sammie]

"What does it matter?" she retorted, raising an eyebrow at him. "Is that what you really wanna know? Just ask me about Eastman. Go."

[Goblin]

"That is what I'm asking you," he said almost patiently, playing with the knife. "How you could work for a guy like that. A guy who murdered and raped more people than anyone can count. Kept the Refuge open all these years and didn't give a damn what was happening in it. But you don't care about any of that, do you?" he asked, his voice curiously calm. "So I'm just wondering why."