Close to Checkmate (c)

[Goblin]

Where had it all started? That was what Goblin was wondering as he sat on the roof alone, smoking a cigarette.

With him and Riddle. The two of them in the Refuge, enduring things no kid should ever have to, fighting back, vowing revenge. It was all so righteous back then.

And then Riddle betrayed him, and he served his time and got out, and it all became a chessboard, with him setting up the pieces and moving them around. Risk, Sapphy, Macbeth, Tristan, Cav...and Maggie, of course. Every one of them had their own selfish reasons for getting involved...except Maggie. She was the only one who actually did it for him. And she was the only one who got fucked over.

Funny how the game had actually gotten easier since then. Because none of the other pieces seemed to matter much anymore. Just the final goal, which was so close he could taste it now...and after that? After that, he had no plans whatsoever. He might as well just cease to exist.

[Gypsy]

Gypsy had taken a shower, washing the dirt and grime from her body. But the bruises, the cuts that would be scars, and the pain -- all that was still there. She told herself it was a good sign she didn't find blood between her legs.

Maybe that meant something.

She'd searched for him, and when she didn't find him in the house, she went on the roof. She stood there, watching him, for several minutes before finally strolling over, jaw clenched.

"Heya, lover boy."

[Goblin]

He raised his eyes to her slowly without showing much surprise, even when he took in her injuries. "So did you escape or did they get you out?" He'd figured Risk and Macbeth weren't the type to just leave her in there.

[Gypsy]

"They got me out. Turns out your lackeys aren't as big a' dicks as you are." She looked him over. "Ya know, for someone so keen on takin' down guys like McArthur and Eastman...you're not so different from them."

[Goblin]

"And how 'bout you?" he asked with a surprising lack of emotion, even though it was a pretty valid question. "How many dozens of girls did you sell out to Eastman's gang to go through what you just went through? And not just once, but every day of their lives?"

[Gypsy]

Her eyes darkened. "And you don't I was doin't the same? Lettin' McArthur sweat all over me, hit me, do what the fuck he felt like to me, just so I didn't get worse. Don't fucking patronize me, Pearson. You go around playing fucking savior, but you're just as bad as anybody. People know what to expect from me. But you? You lie to their fuckin' face, make them think you're something special. Make them think you give a shit about them, when all you care about is yourself."

[Goblin]

He snorted at that. "Gypsy, if I cared about myself, why the hell would I be doing any of this?" He'd actually lost track of the number of people who wanted to kill him. And soon enough, one of them was bound to succeed. "I'm not arguing with the rest, though. 'Course I'm as bad as anyone. Probably worse." He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette.

[Gypsy]

She shook her head. "You're still doing this for you. To make yourself feel better. To get back at people for what happened to you. It's just gravy that other people'll be helped out by it. But it's about you."

She frowned, looking at him. "And you sold me out. You handed me over like it was easy. 'Cause it was. Didn't matter what they were gonna do to me. Or what'd happen to my--" she stopped. It didn't matter.

[Goblin]

"To your what? Your boyfriend, who found it just as fucking easy to hand Maggie over to Eastman?" he said with the first flare of emotion he'd shown in the whole conversation. "'Cause no, that really didn't matter to me."

[Gypsy]

She frowned. "We didn't have a choice. You did." She clenched her fists at her side. "And I'm not talkin' about Jimmy. I'm talkin' about my--my baby."

[Goblin]

He reacted just slightly, his shoulders tensing a little as he looked up at her, assuming at first that she was trying to con him, squeeze a little more guilt out of him. But her face said no, and he didn't think her acting was quite that good.

"Your baby? Yours and Jimmy's? That kid's gonna have a hell of a life." He paused for a moment, still looking at her. "Is it still...?"

[Gypsy]

She lifted a shoulder, the action making her wince a little. "I dunno. I think so. I gotta see a doctor. Jimmy doesn't even know yet. He might not ever need to."

[Goblin]

He nodded and looked away from her. "Well, for what it's worth, I didn't have much of a choice. Not without exposing Risk and Macbeth and putting even more people in danger." He sucked the last of the smoke from the cigarette and let it fill his lungs. "Everyone's in too deep."

[Gypsy]

"And who's fault is that?" She paused a minute, her voice low. "When the smoke settles and no one's left standing...you'll be the only one to blame. And then what? What'll you have to show for it, huh? You're alone."

[Goblin]

He snorted again. "Way things have been going lately, I doubt I'll be standing when the smoke settles. I just hope it gets finished, one way or another." He met her eyes again. "You wanna blame me, Gypsy, go ahead. Most people will. Just like they'll blame you and Jimmy and Riddle...in the end, it's the people at the top who matter. The people who made us this way. Eastman and his gang, McArthur...once they're gone, there won't be any more fucked-up kids like us. Or not as many, at least. And that's something." He shrugged. "That's everything, I guess, for me. So if I'm alone, I'm alone. If I'm dead, I'm dead. Whatever. It was too late for me anyway."