Boots scuffed loudly as Jack made his way up the winding wooden stairs to his office, grief and exhaustion moving him slowly. The door creaked open, and he kept his eyes off the early morning sun just peeking through the curtains. Sighing, Jack unbuttoned his undershirt, covered in blood and filth from the last two days, and, walking into his adjoined bedroom, threw it on his bed. Jack's room was dark and simple. Dressers, desks, shelves covered in hastily stacked books and loose papers, a head on the wall. But one thing was set apart, positioned intentionally where the sun would hit it every afternoon. Positioned so Jack could always see it while he worked. He walked over to the massive frame hung on the wall, and pulled back the delicate curtain that kept it from dust. It was a portrait of his family, with he and all of his grudges, and seated beside himself, a woman. The grudges were all children, none older then ten in the painting. The woman was young and beautiful, with black hair and finely painted hazel eyes, one hand resting neatly on her black gown, the other holding Jack's.
Jack stared hard at the picture, reaching up and touching the little Samma who was sitting at his feet and grinning widely for the painter. Taking a deep breath, the man drifted his gaze to the black-haired woman. "We lost another one, Abby." He whispered before turning away, unable to face his failure.
The last 24 hours had consisted of removing the children from the psycho's house, escorting them to medical sanctuaries, raiding the rest of the home, marking it unfit for reentry, then returning to a manor full of his grieving family. While his soldiers had unloaded the grabbings from Nico's home into a storehouse, Jack had been bombarded with panicking, furious, and distraught children. Even some of the servants were crippled by the loss. Samma was to remain in a secret place until her body was prepared and funeral-appropriate, despite the pleadings by some to visit her. Micah hadn't spoken a single word since they'd returned, having disappeared in his room and remained there.
The manor was quiet now, as most of the family was sleeping in late due to the tiring madness. Sitting on his bed, Jack rested his head in his hands and puzzled over some of the things he'd found in the Psycho's bedroom. In a separate bed chamber, hidden behind a thick canopy, had been the skeleton of a tiny girl, masterfully preserved. And next to her, had been...What was she? A woman. A comatose woman was what Jack believed. A beautiful girl with black hair and a luxurious gown, her chest still, her eyes sealed, but a heartbeat nonetheless. A mysterious thing to find, considering no one could wake her and she appeared otherwise completely unharmed. Another victim of the madman, Jack assumed. She was safe now, kept under the watchful eyes of Jemma and Florence in the room with Lumi and Zion. It unnerved him how similar she looked to Abrielle. Perhaps later today he would inquire further on her identity, hoping strongly that she was a victim rather than the Psycho's equally psychotic wife.
Two knocks on the door. Both soft and cautious, hoping not to anger the irritable man inside.
"Dad, it's me." Cherry piped up, wondering if her voice had been too loud. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him if he'd fallen asleep, or even disturb the neighboring rooms.
Like the boss, she'd hardly gotten any sleep since they returned. Instead, she'd been snuggling up with Hendrix, finding his excessive energy a welcome distraction from the loss of her sister. But as the dog napped, she'd wandered around the manor aimlessly, from the bedrooms to basement, and even into the kitchen where she prepared herself some tea. Something she'd have often with Samma during their girl-time, chatting away when they were both free of any work.
Eventually, however, she found herself standing in front of Jack's office-- and wondered if the man was inside.
"Could I maybe come in for a minute? I brought some tea."
Jack reached for his cigarettes but mumbled in annoyance when he realized he'd given his coat away the morning earlier.
"Yes, come in." He said softly but loud enough to hear, standing from his bed and grabbing the dirty undershirt to throw back on. As he heard the door open, he walked to his bedroom doorway and looked into the office towards his visitor, giving her an attempt of a half-smile, his hands on his hips tiredly.
"Hey, sweetheart. What's....What's up?" Jack sighed at himself. 'What's up?' What the fuck. Idiot.
Cherry could tell just how tired he was by his attempt at a half-smile alone. It was there in his voice, noticeable by his sigh. She attempted to return one as well, slightly less weighed with exhaustion.
"I heard something about Nate crying and whining to Alessandro." She admitted, closing the door behind her. "Just in case you need him or something. I dunno know if he knows about..." Trailing off for a moment, she cleared her throat as she dropped the thought. "Well, I can leave the tea here. It should help you sleep, which you definitely need before you go even more insane than the demon makes you."
Having reached his desk, she slid over some papers to make room for the cup and plate. "I'll probably only get a nap's worth of sleep in, so if you need anything, I'm right around the corner. I... I know it's hard for you too, yeah."
It took a few moments for Jack to realize she'd brought him tea, but when he did, his expression warmed. "Oh...Thank you, Cher." Walking over, he eyed the drink while putting an arm around her shoulders. After giving her a kiss on the top of her head, he said, "That looks wonderful. I'll have it now, and after I catch Nathaniel up with everything that's happened, I'll make an attempt for some sleep." A blatant lie.
She stared up hard at the boss for a moment, searching for some sort of truth in his blatant lie. Something warm in the arm around her shoulders.
With a heavy sigh, she cursed herself for not adding some sort of sleep-aid to his beverage prior to meeting with him.
"Dad. No one likes you when you're grumpy and sleep-deprived. Nate probably won't come back to the manor for another day or two, anyways."
Through her quick lecturing, a normally hidden portrait caught her eye and stopped her from continuing on. Her mild annoyance dropped as she squinted to view its details.
"Oh wow, wait, I haven't seen that in ages. Is that from when we were all little?"
"Hm? Oh- Yes, it is." Jack eyed the painting from across the room and through the doorway. "Do you remember sitting for it? Probably not too much, huh? You were so young. Mom had to try and make you laugh a few times before she got you to finally smile." He took the teacup and saucer tenderly in his dirty hands, sitting on the edge of his desk and watching his daughter.
"It was hard to get you to smile back then. I'd say you got the hang of it though."
She briefly chuckled at his comment, aware of how true it honestly was. Most, if not all of the kids really struggled back then. Had it not been for the older kids, she and the rest of the young ones really wouldn't have made it on their own.
"I only sorta remember really moving a lot to try and sit comfortably. It took absolutely ages to paint everyone. And the artist probably had to paint in the smiles so quick, one at a time, right? How did you afford it back then? Portraits aren't cheap."
"No, it wasn't cheap." He said, chuckling. "Your mother and I worked long hours, I at the forge and she at a nearby plantation. We put money away for it. It was important to have something to show all of you that we were a family now. I insisted on it, and she agreed. Thankfully, Abby had experience in sewing and she was able to sew all of your garments, my suit as well. I think we pulled it off nicely." Smiling to himself, he finally took a sip of his drink.
“Yeah, after she made the first couple, she got really good at it." She remarked, watching as he took a sip. “So… who ended up getting your hand-me-downs? Or can you still fit that old suit?” Having teased him, she gave him a tiny push by the arm before glancing down at her clothes. “I think back then I only had one pair of pants that weren’t given to me by somebody older. I wore all of Kazuto’s shirts he grew out of, and I think Samma stole all of the Nate’s old shirts he didn’t happen to put a hole in. So that was, what, maybe two of them ever? Even then they were too big for her."
A short sigh followed her snickering, cut short by exhaustion. She hadn't noticed his itch for a cigarette, rambling as she had. "I might still have an old shirt or few. It'd be something to give to those poor kids."
"That's kind of you, Cher, but don't worry about it. I've already sent for tailors and seamstresses, they'll arrive later today and we'll get them clothed in some proper garments." Going round the back of his desk, he pulled open a drawer and grabbed a metal tin, flipping it open and taking a smoke out.
"I think I'll head out to Alessandro's, find Nathaniel, catch them up, come back and get some sleep before the caravans start rolling in." Setting his teacup down, he took the cigarette into his mouth and sighed into it, sparks igniting at the end. "Would you tell Dollie we'll need five extra seats for lunch? Somehow I forgot that."
Walking over to his coat rack, he grabbed a clean leather jacket and tossed it on. "Thanks for checkin' on me, love." Jack said out the side of his mouth , giving Cherry a nod before swiftly leaving out the door and down the winding stairs. You should have talked to her more. Get back in there.
But talking was hard right now. Things needed to be done, taken care of, situated. He didn't have the time.
Or maybe it just hurt to do it. To talk about anything as if his little girl wasn't lying with her throat slit open in some medic's home, waiting to be sewn up and dressed like a doll. To think about business was his favorite numbing agent.
"Anytime." Cherry piped up as he walked out the door, understanding that was the end of all the conversation the man could muster. Left alone with the rest of his unfinished tea, the woman picked up the cup, took a sip, and gradually left the quiet office space be.
Elsewhere, one giant ruffian had set his feet up on a gentleman's counter, gnawing on a toothpick as he stared up at the ceiling. He sat in his self-designated chair, gazing at the mark he had made years prior that scuffed the cottage home. Nestled between shops in the busy village, Nate found himself with the only person able to calm him down after a heated conversation with Jack. Of course, the leader could still find him there, provided he felt like looking for the menace. Yet, the mask maker's home accommodated to him, with arched doorways and a tall roof. For Nate, it felt like a home much more than the manor ever did.
"S'all I was doing was helping, but no, safety first. If I wanna lose an arm, that oughtta be on me, y'know?" He mumbled to himself, switching one ankle over the other as he lounged around the table. "Hey, Alessandro, wouldja be willing to make that good uh, what the hell was it, that one sweet dessert you had last time I was over. It was all orange and white on top? I've been having a craving for it since last time I pulled up. Somethin' real sweet. Mmm."
"The orange and cream Tiramisu," Alessandro said, nodding as he walked from one side of the kitchen to the other, reaching into one of the wooden cabinets and pulling out a small, covered dessert dish that was gilded with roses. Nate had enjoyed the last batch so much, he'd made more the following morning in preparation for the young man's next visit.
"I wouldn't have wanted you going in there without armor either, Nate." He pointed out, giving him a firm sideways glance of reprimand. Not bothering to divide the food into portions, he simply placed a serving spoon into the dish and handed it to Nate. Aless took his usual seat to the side of him and folded his hands on his lap.
"I saw a dozen wagons come in through mainstreet an hour ago, I wonder what was in them...?"
A singular knock on the front door brought Alessandro's gaze to the nearby hall, and it was no surprise when the familiar footsteps of Jack's boots could be heard stomping in.
"Nate here, San?" Jack called past his cigarette, taking his shoes off at the door like he always did.
"He is." Alessandro answered, with a little smile at the young man beside him.
Fantastic. Jack thought, sighing as he straightened up and headed towards the kitchen to join them.
Nate shrugged at Alessandro's observation about the wagons as he shoved a slice of tiramisu messily into his mouth. He knew the wagons were likely due with the mission Jack and the others had went on, but that wasn't his problem anymore. He walked away. Just like their good ol' saint of a father wanted him to. Nah, now it wasn't his business. But the man would still be frustrated at the entire situation as he childishly folded his arms and pushed himself back, leaning on the chair's back legs for balance.
"Ohhh, oh great."
The giant rolled his eyes as the boss-man himself walked in. Exhaling a loud sigh, he dropped his feet and let the chair fall forward, its legs crashing onto the home's flooring.
He settled his hands on his hips as he straightened himself, eyes cast down at the apparently welcome visitor.
"Now WHAT do I oweeee for the pleasure of this visit from the head-honcho boss-man himself, ha? Here to give me another lecture 'er whatever?"
Although quick, he'd glanced over at Alessandro, as if his presence alone was enough to give Nate the confidence to stand up to Jack... literally.
Alessandro's smile of welcome quickly vanished as he caught the eyes of a man who looked like he'd been to hell's castle and back.
Jack stood in place a few feet before Nate, looking up at him with a lifeless, bloodshot gaze that was far too tired and pained to mind the child's attitude.
"Samma's dead." He muttered, slowly looking away after and walking past the giant to take his own seat at the table as the room was held captive by silence.
Aless stared at him speechlessly, mouth parted in a horrified dumbstruck expression. "She-"
"She's gone. Everyone else made it out. Kazuto and Conri have injuries but they'll pull through."
