Lost & Confused

[SageTavers]

There was an honest to God part of her that wondered if she should show up. How could she be certain if she showed up and he'd be there? She was oblivious. Did not have a clue in the world as to what could be going on, why he was gone, for how long, why she couldn’t go back to his apartment? She couldn’t even quite figure out how she’d ended up at an Aunt’s house that she had no clue she had up until the previous week.

Though it seemed like Mr. Tavers had decided her argument had had some kind of valid point. Though that could have been the guilt that had started to build, the epicenter of that guilt stemming from the fact that he hadn’t been there, not when Sage had truly needed him. There were whispers among his peers. Either way she’d debated for too long on whether or not to go to Grand Central Station. What if it wasn't Jack. She'd given herself a headache that would radiate throughout the rest of her day. At least it was public that was what she had kept telling herself, it was public. She’d shown up early, because this was Sage and if she wasn’t prompt she was always early. She liked to get the lay of the land, scope out what was going on, find a spot she deemed acceptable to wait for someone. It didn’t matter if she was going out on a date, meeting a friend for coffee, or the first day of school. She always did it.

This was no different. She had actually worried about what to wear. Though at the point that she’d found a bench and parked her ass there it was hard to tell since she’d settled on a pair of light blue jeans, that were fitted in the waist and hips but had a but loosened at the thighs and fit comfortably and a white ribbed tank top over a black ribbed tank top, for that kind of layered affect. That blond hair had that touch of; I didn’t do a damn thing to my hair that said she’d probably spent time making it look that way. A set of aviator glasses atop of her head, and a book in her lap. Though it was closed at the moment and face down, one leg crossed over the other, her foot bouncing just lightly. Most onlookers would just see a young woman, maybe enjoying a break in her day to take in the sights and sounds that was Chaos of the station, anyone knew her would take the bouncing of that foot as a nervous twitch. Those baby blue eyes of hers scanned left right, up down, and she occasionally glanced over her shoulder.

If Jacob Tavers had taught her anything in her 17 years it was how to observe, to keep track of anything or anyone suspicious and this had to be the ultimate test, because there were too many people and the noise level was near deafening. There really wasn’t any kind of distinct emotion in those features either, no smile, no frown, she did a great job at keeping her thumbnail out of her teeth, which was another nervous habit even though she was dying to fidget more all she allowed was that bounce of her foot. After sitting for fifteen minutes she pulled out the book. He’d be there. He had to be. Because she needed to see him, needed some kind of explanation, and because she needed it, it had to happen.

[Jack Malone, Jr.]

Call him skeptical. He knew he'd likely get into a world of shit for even staging the meet-up, but.. when had he ever cared? Besides knowing that he could unknowingly fall ill at any given moment deemed deserving, nothing had changed in that respect. There were things, however, that needed to be handled.. and Jack didn't typically leave loose ends anywhere, save for that entire lot where he just couldn't knock them far enough down for his own satisfaction (if nothing else, now). But, that entire ordeal was goddamn compromised and he wasn't quite sure what route any of it would take now; like some kid on one of those ridiculous blue leashes, being toted through Walmart-- that's what he felt like.

Grand Central Station. He picked it because it was public and destined to be swarming with people - he wouldn't stick out nearly as much, - and because.. well.. he'd memorized the way back to where he was staying from there, so why not? It was nearby, and although it wouldn't have been his first choice to have a 'hey, i'm still alive' conversation, it'd have to do.

He didn't use the main entrance. He walked a certain path to avoid cameras - though it seemed to draw odd looks and glances, - Junior just clenched his jaw and kept going. Past all the shops and stores, and vending machines; past the ticket booths and finally towards where the benches were arranged. When finally he came into view, just a few paces away from where the blue-eyed girl sat, he huffed out a breath and twisted to drop heavily next to her. There were no spiffy clothes, no stylishly messy hair, and most of all.. no glock. No hand-cannon, and no phone. All the things that made him feel secure were lost along the way, privileges they'd been called. So be it. He shifted until he was leaning forward, elbows resting down on the knees of the loose-fit jeans, and those eyes worthy of belonging to a pup stared out at the crowd moving to and from.

"Sorry."

Much without thinking of it, given that bumps and bruises weren't all that rare for him, he reached up to scratch at his jaw that was most certainly bruised. Not that he intended on shedding any light onto how, or why; he was there, and that was a start, wasn't it?

"I don't have my phone.." he trailed, finally shooting a sidelong glance at Sage. "Guess y'got the other message though, huh.." Captain Obvious was obvious. Jack was all shook up.

[SageTavers]

She'd been expecting him, or someone, so the drop of a body on the bench next to her didn't have her jumping, just had her setting the book back in her lap and then setting it aside. He sank down and leaned forward, he was close enough that it was obvious they weren't strangers but she had a feeling it'd probably not be the best idea to try and cling to him. She wasn't overtly clingy anyway, but she most definitely had a thought of just knocking him over and who gave a damn if people fucking starred. She'd missed him. More then she realized until that exact second because she felt a huge weight just dissipate.

It didn't matter that he looked unruly, that he had a bruise the size of a fist on his jaw, it was him and that was all that mattered. Sorry.

"...fucking better be."

She muttered it lightly and then listened as he said that he didn't have his phone but he guessed that she got his other message.

"Nah. You know me, I like to randomly read in the middle of chaos."

Ever present sarcasm because it was easier then anything else at the moment. She mimicked his seated position to almost a t, drumming her own fingers together lightly starring out at the people.

"So...I'm I not allowed to touch you?"

It sounded like a genuine question, like she didn't know if she was just supposed to sit there with a bit of space between them, stare at the crowd, and have a conversation like they weren't actually having a conversation. Yeah. Leave it to Sage to think of things like that. With both her feet planted on the ground that nervous tick of her foot was stopped but replaced by the absent chewing of the inside of her own cheek. She had a thousand and one questions, but she didn't rapid fire shoot them at him ... just yet.

[Jack Malone, Jr.]

Her muttered response didn't really phase him; he was used to it by then, and under most other circumstances, he would've countered it with something just as unnecessary. Instead, Jack shrugged a shoulder lightly. Was he sorry though? As far as she was concerned, he was; it was rare to get any form of an apology out of him for any reason-- but, being kept out of the world - regardless for what reasoning - was deserving, he supposed, to at least her.

"Chaos? This ain't chaos. This is normal shit."

The station, he meant. Junior leaned back slowly enough and sunk down on the bench in a more than tired disposition. Sleep? It was unheard of when his mind wouldn't shut the fuck up about anything -- though, they'd been through that a good ten times over. At least, for the most part, he still had liquor-- but.. the other things he used? Nope. And that could've very well been the cause of the twitch in his hand when he moved to lock them both behind his head in a faux-comfortable position. Getting comfortable was out of the question; it wasn't happening, despite him pretending.

The question she asked, regardless of whether it sounded genuine or not, only produced a scowl on his face that lasted a good few seconds before he dropped the arm nearest to her, glanced over, snagged her around her shoulders and dragged her into his side. It didn't even get a verbal response at first, and damn right he kept staring straight ahead. Being on the verge of a break wasn't at all desirable, but it was there. ..Not to mention the irritation that came right along with certain withdrawals that she had no clue about. Go figure, though. Junior always had his secrets..

"Just waitin' on a lynch mob to storm th'doors."

The comment was dry, sarcastic all the same, but incredibly dry. And he didn't smirk as he usually would've done. ... He was being serious!

[SageTavers]

For Sage, especially these days, it was a lot of people. More people then she wanted to handle, and though it made her a little jumpy to be surrounded by a thousand faces she didn't let it show. Though she didn't respond to his comment either. It probably was normal shit, compared to whatever the hell he was dealing with at the moment. She watched him though, very attentively with those light blue eyes. He looked exhausted.

But that was old hat. They'd cycled from him not sleeping to her not sleeping, to them both being stubborn and not sleeping because the other person wasn't sleeping. She watched him get into that 'comfortable' position, and knew without a doubt that he was anything but comfortable at the moment, and that scowl tugged at his features that had her frowning just a bit. She couldn't help it once that arm finally went around her shoulders and drug her to him she shifted enough so that she could press into him a bit the hand of the arm pressed into his side curled into a fistful of his shirt near his ribs and the other reached up to run a finger along that bruised jaw as he said what he was waiting for. Sarcasm, but ... not his usual. Too serious.

"Give me the readers digest version then ... what the hells goin on Slick?"

Slick. Slipped in, to add a touch of lightness to the mood, if it felt anything but light. The way she asked it sounded more then annoyed, beyond annoyed, but he had to know by now that annoyance was a mask for the worry. For him. She didn't even seem to think that there might be trouble for her to be sitting there with him in that moment, she was worried for him, wanted to grab hold of him and hide him ... but yeah ... she didn't have that kind of pull in life.

[Jack Malone, Jr.]

Oh, don't get him wrong; he wasn't fond of being surrounded by ass-loads of people, but it gave him the benefit of a doubt that he'd be able to spot something that was off. And that not too many people would be paying much more attention to anything but their ticket stubs, and the large-faced clocks that showed each zone's time. All in all, it was probably a bold - but good - choice of a meeting place; god forbid he tell her to go down to his place and be caught unarmed and entirely too vulnerable. That was a thought that could've made him squirm.

If nothing else, the hand that fisted his shirt got a very light hint of a grin, in spite of it all. Though, no sooner, did he tip his head to the aside to avoid her fingers moving across the bruise the best he could. It wasn't fist shaped.. had it been, it probably would've have still been achy.

"The Reader's Digest version?"

What'd that mean? Embellish on the good, exaggerate on the bad? Stir up paranoia that was well deserving, but useless?

"In a fuckin' nutshell.." he started, and finally unfolded his other arm just so it could stretch out along the back of the bench. The other, however, stayed around her shoulders. "I did what I said I was gonna do. Had it all planned out, but somethin' fucked up at th'end. Got knocked out," he gestured with a lift of his eyes and a tilt of his head down. Yep. He still had the mark from that too. "Woke up somewhere else. Not pleasant. ..And so it would seem, the same fuckin' person that was hired to knock me off was also hired to not let that happen.." Which was where it got confused. And there was a hell of a lot more to it that he wasn't going into.

"There's your Reader's Digest version."

After shaking his watch back down to his wrist, he reached up and scratched at his forehead. It would've been hilarious to most, watching him falter with what - and what not - to say.

[SageTavers]

It had seemed like a good thing at the time. Maybe she should have used the Cliff Notes version. The two were so interchangeable at times. She shifted her head lightly to look up at him a little better as he seemed to gear up to give her the 'Readers Digest Version'. Those lips of hers kept themselves pressed together in a bit of a scowl as he explained a little better. Gestured with his eyes and tilted his head down to motion to where he'd gotten knocked out.

She frowned that much more. She didn't like it and she didn't know where to direct her sudden surge of anger. It was that anger that she tended to hold stead fast to that had them connecting at first wasn't it? But she wasn't angry at him and without really thinking about it she just sighed, and pressed her fingertips lightly to the cheek opposite his bruise tilting her head forward just a bit.

"...so...then what?"

Just take that all in Ms. Sage and keep on trucking. It was how she did. She got what information she could, and then needed more, or tried to figure out what next. She looked around and then back at him.

"What, they give you a day pass? You snuck out like a pretty princess but have to go back...or else...what?"

She was trying for the sarcasm but there was a bit of a quiver in her voice and if he looked, really looked at those eyes he would be the only person that could tell that she was on the verge of just clinging to him, and damn anyone who try and take him away because she might go kicking and screaming like a five year old throwing a tantrum because their favorite toy got taken away.

[Jack Malone, Jr.]

Truthfully, it didn't matter which terminology was used when it came to explaining how to explain-- what it all boiled down to was he was fucked for a while, and wasn't completely sure how to unfuck himself.. or, better yet, unfuck the situation (if that was even possible).

After her sigh, and question of 'then what', Junior shrugged a shoulder half-heartedly. He was leaving out quite a bit of detail even if only because some of it disturbed him. Nothing like being made into a figurative time-bomb to make you even sit more rigid! "Then I was let go - sorta - got a drink or four, and paced til I passed out." It shouldn't have been too unbelievable, mainly because it was true. "Thing is, I can't go home. ..I don't have my shit. And there's people that want me dead. Fuckin' amazing, huh?"

If only Sage had've left out the pretty princess bit, he probably wouldn't have reacted with the clench of his jaw upon her question. "I left. ..Don't mean I can stay, but one more day of bein' cooped up, I was gonna go nuts." .. Not that he hadn't already. Besides that, it was like he said -- he was fucking positive she would worry, and.. well.. look at that. Jack glanced down at her, but only briefly, because he really didn't want to see how close she was to freaking out. He'd rather her smacked him, like he originally thought she would.

"I'm sorry."

Funny when the invincible become vulnerable, isn't it? When his hand dropped again, it was the rest palm-down on the bench beside him, fingers twitching just slightly but not at all because he was jumpy as hell. Honestly, he was pretty calm about it outwardly.

[SageTavers]

The hand curled into a fist against a bit of his shirt finally released and she lifted both her hands to her eyes and pressed lightly as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Because to someone who didn't have a fucking clue as to what was going on ... this conversation ... making it a little more confusing. How could something that she hadn't known anything about become more confusing when she had gotten information on it?

"How are you -sorta- let go?"

She was half tempted to look for a shock collar, like if he did bad he'd get zapped. She blinked a few times when that kind of thought hit her. No. Now the sarcasm that had thought about the shock collar was serious and she was studying him a little more. When he said he couldn't stay that frown grew a little deeper.

"...can't stay..." And then that was it because that was all she heard as she finally sunk back into the bench next to him, slumping down just a bit, folding her fingertips lightly over her stomach without even thinking about it. He was apologizing again and she felt bad for it. He had real life ... probably scary ... terrifying and difficult shit going on and he felt bad because what? She was upset? Worried?

Who would he have sent a message to with his -sorta- freedom if Sage hadn't wiggled her way into his life? Would he have to be sorry to anyone?

"I've made things more complicated for you. Haven't I?"

She was just looking out at the crowd now and she asked it with a rather calm and quiet voice, no quiver, no quake, just a marginal amount of guilt.

[Jack Malone, Jr.]

When Sage seemed so confused just then, he tipped his head off to the side and rested the non-bruised temple against his knuckles. Fuck. How was he sorta let go?

"As in.. un-cuffed, and let up." Maybe let 'go' wasn't really the right words to have used. "Then had to follow wherever he wanted me to go." That, in fact, he wouldn't at all be disclosing. Junior wasn't stupid; he just did stupid things sometimes, out of irrationality. His hand shifted, fingers splaying just before raking his hair back. No, no, there was no shock collar-- though, at this point - after thinking good and hard on it - he would have almost preferred that method. Instead of having something that would, and could, kill him with just a detonator. Nothing visible, nothing that could even be felt.

When she released and slumped down next to him, he shifted forward again and reached up with both hands to scratch through his hair tiresomely. The revelation wasn't new to him, though. He couldn't stay, and that was probably the worst part of even arranging to get out for a few hours, or a day, or whatever-- it'd be more than difficult to suck it up and go right back, instead of trying to stay out. Not to mention the fact that he had no clue who had a contract out for his head. Despite it all, Jack wasn't quite ready to die yet, thanks.

"What? No.. shit just happens.. it ain't got nothin' to do with you makin' things more difficult."

Sure, had she not wiggled her way right in, he wouldn't have had anyone he felt the need to apologize to. But that was besides the point. It was a good thing, even in his own twisted head that was - surprising - compromised, as in, he couldn't be the twisted, 'i couldn't give a fuck less about this, or that' person he was used to being. Worrying about her worrying, though? It was a natural sort of thing. ..And hey, at least he wasn't locked up, right?

"Just gotta.. figure it all out." Somehow. "So stop poutin'." And with that, he reached over and nudged her in the shoulder in a weak attempt at lightening the mood.