“W-What did you say?”

He didn’t respond, and Lucy’s mind started racing a thousand miles a minute as she thought about what he’d just said.

“WHAT did you SAY, ASSHOLE?!”

“Garrison Johnson wasn’t his name, Lucille… His real name was Garrison… Krauss.”

It’s as if all the air was sucked out of the room in that instant and Lucy found herself sliding down onto the floor, with some passive assistance from the window that she was leaning against. She was at a complete loss for words, just sitting there with the phone up to her ear, staring out at the street below her.

“So you see… Since you got our father killed and you ruined his plans for his empire–”

“You’re lying.”

Lucy spat back, shaking her head vehemently. It was all she had, clinging to the hope that this man was just toying with her again, trying to find something, anything to catch her with her guard down.

“Come now, Lucille. Why would I openly admit that I’m related to…scum like yourself and your whore sister? What good would that possibly do me?”

She didn’t have a response for that. Any claim that she wasn’t the ‘scum’ he’d referenced would undoubtedly fall upon deaf ears because much like her–their father, they thought people like Lucy and Kyra were lesser than. Only around apparently to incubate the next generation.

The next generation of strong, smart men.

Or the next generation of sluts and incubators.

There wasn’t any use to say anything. But that didn’t stop Michael from clearing his throat and chuckling.

“That’s what I thought. So what I propose is this, Lucille. You hand yourself over, and you take your rightful place, doing the duty Garrison was grooming you for. And in exchange, I leave our sister and our niece alone… Although, little… Adina was it? She’d make a lovely addition to our sto–”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Lucy shouted, even before she realized she was doing it. She pulled herself back to her feet and began pacing around the room – Her mind a flurry of thoughts, racing through her head, one after the other – Trying to comprehend everything she’d heard.

“Very rude, considering the obscenely generous offer I just made to you. I don’t think you realize the sacrifice I’m making here, settling for one body over three. I–”

“I don’t care about your little ‘sacrifice’. We’re not just cattle, Mi–”

“Oh, but you are, Lucille.”

She silently bit her lip as tears stung at the corners of her eyes. Don’t cry she kept telling herself. Don’t fucking cry.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.  But I–”

And again, Michael cuts her off.

“I’ll tell you what.. Don’t give me your answer now, Lucille. Take some time to think about it. It’s not as if you could possibly disappear off of my radar now.. Besides, if you take too long, I’ll just make a trip down the street and pay Kyra a visit.”

Lucy opened her mouth to retort when she heard the line go dead.

What the hell was she going to do?

And then, her eyes fell on the mini-fridge that sat a few feet in front of her, and the untouched contents that lie within. You shouldn’t, she told herself as she took a step forward, and then another – more hesitant one.

You shouldn’t.

She knelt down on the floor and opened the door, peering in at the small bottles that she’s avoided for weeks now and suddenly her chest tightened as she imagined opening one and downing it. Wanting so badly to forget the knowledge that was so graciously bestowed upon her.

Wanting to forget all of it.

Just like before.

You shouldn’t.

“I shouldn’t.”

She repeated out loud, her gaze never straying from the assortment of alcohol that lie within, chilled to perfection, ready and willing to numb anything and everything that she’d ever want it to.

Even though.. Deep down inside, she knew it wouldn’t help. It never did.

She reached for one anyway.

“Just one.. Just one to take the edge off…

 

The bar was surprisingly not very busy. And those who were inside, didn’t recognize him at all when he walked in, which was even better. It was a little hole in the wall spot that he and Lucy had come up with quickly. He spotted her quickly, her platinum blonde hair unmistakable, even in the dim lighting that comes typical inside a bar like this. She was sitting at the bar itself, scrolling through her phone. He slid next to her and grinned.

“Lucy! Great job out there tonight!”

He was obviously talking about Outlast. He glanced at the bartender, and almost signaled for a few drinks, but thought better of it. Typically, it was his style to get right down to business, but he wasn’t in much of a hurry this evening. In fact, he felt pretty good already.

Lucy turned her head as he sat down, a smile on her lips as she shrugged her shoulders.

“You weren’t too bad yourself.”

She replied, setting her phone down on the bar in front of her. The truth was, she enjoyed herself out there tonight far more than she’d enjoyed anything for a while. Granted, being opposed to the man she sat beside here now wasn’t exactly what she was hoping for, nor was her eventual elimination in the finals by Gabriel, but it was fun nonetheless.

“You were supposed to take it easy on me.”

He gave her a wink and clapped her on the shoulder gently.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty, mayhap?”

He did signal for the bartender now. At the very least, he could use a big, juicy bar burger.

“Definitely.”

Lucy replied, watching and contemplating as the bartender approached. She knew a soda would be her best bet, but when the older gentleman stood in front of them she sighed softly and nodded in his direction.

“Yeah, hi. I would um, like a whiskey and an order of french fries.”

She glanced in Rogan’s direction with a smirk. He nodded cheerfully.

“Same, but add your best burger to mine. It’s all one bill. Don’t bring it yet, just keep the whiskey coming if you see us low. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

The bartender nodded and stepped away to put in their food order. Rogan leaned against the bar and stretched a little.

“How did you feel out there tonight? You looked like you were feeling it. I haven’t been around in a while, but you look like you’re at the top of your game. I’m impressed!”

A bit of heat rises to Lucy’s cheeks as she glances down at her hands.

“Acting like I went out there and won the whole thing… But yeah, it was fun. I enjoyed it. But how about you? Mr. Looking like he never lost a step.”

She shot back, as she glanced sideways and shot him a wink of her own.

“Outlast is a difficult event to win. One person out of an entire roster wins for the night. Everyone else loses. But you didn’t look like a loser.”

Rogan spoke matter-of-factly. The bartender brought the shots of whiskey and assured them that their food would be out momentarily. Rogan waved a hand dismissively.

“And there’s no shame in losing to Gabriel. He hasn’t yet fulfilled his potential, either. Even if I hold an opinion that he should have by now. I think he’s just had some tough luck. To be honest, it would be ideal, to me, to see you, Eden, and Gabriel all at the top. We’re not far off from that. I imagine we’re only a few months from that being a very real possibility.”

He grabbed his glass and gulped his drink down, slamming the glass down on the counter. The bartender moved swiftly to replace his empty glass. As his drink was being replaced, Lucy was running her finger along the rim of her own glass.

“Wow.”

She began, her eyes focused on the amber liquid in the glass before her.

“I guess only time will tell, huh?”

She asked, finally wrapping her hand around the glass and downing the shot in one fell-swoop. It was easy for her to believe that Eden and Gabriel should and will be at the top once again, but about herself? She wasn’t that arrogant. She just won the Chaos Championship and that was enough of a challenge for her to this point – But it was a good start.

“That’s one way of putting it. But I stand by my opinion.”

As quickly as the bartender filled his glass, Rogan downed it again, slamming the glass down and sliding it back to the bartender. He smiled at Lucy.

“We’re going to feel like shit tomorrow, though.”

“Worth it.”

She replied, watching her drink be replaced and much like Rogan, she downed it almost immediately – with much less hesitation than she had before. It was nice to just forget about her conversation with her brother, even if just for a little while.

“Glad you feel that way.”

He downed another and slammed the empty glass once more, this time keeping his eyes on his friend. The bartender filled it immediately. Suddenly, this began to feel like a contest. He waited as Lucy’s glass was filled, and grinned. Lucy returned his grin and grabbed her glass.

“How couldn’t I?”

And she downed the next shot, slamming her glass down this time as she let out a chuckle. They went back and forth like that for several shots. How many? It was difficult to count. But, they drank. They laughed. They caught up. Just like old friends do.

 

“Hi, Poke,”

said the Dark Man.

Aaron Farson was kneeling, as if he was praying. His head was down.

But, at the sound of MacLean’s voice, he lifted his head slowly, smiling. He remained kneeling, gazing up at the man who had been talking to him in his dreams for months.

“Stand. Let’s have a look at you.”

He did as he was asked. It was a surreal moment for Poke. He had been through a lot. The Dark Man assessed him from the other side of the jail’s steel bars.

“This isn’t any place for a creature such as yourself, now is it?”

The Dark Man said, looking Poke over thoroughly. What he was looking at, or looking for, Poke had no idea. But he also didn’t care. In fact, Poke didn’t care about a lot of things right now. His stomach gurgled in disagreement.

“Hungry?”

Rogan asked.

“I dreamt of you,”

Poke said, his cheeks reddening. Rogan smiled in response.

“Yes. You’re not the only one.”

No fate but what we make.

“But, there are more like you. You have been misplaced. I am here to place you where you belong.”

“With you?”

The Dark Man smiled, and nodded slowly. He held his hand out, palm up, just outside the jail’s bars. In the palm of his hand, a black key with a chaos symbol on its head. It hung on a thin necklace that coiled underneath it. Aaron gazed at it distantly, like it was some otherworldly talisman. The truth was, that’s exactly what it was. He reached through and took the key between his fingers. The necklace slipped from MacLean’s hand and hung, swaying back and forth in the air like a pendulum.

“You will be my right hand man, Poke. I will use you the way you should have been used in your last life. Your friend, he was weaker than you, saner than you. No one even remembers his name. Except me. Because I watched him fail where you would have succeeded. I watched the Trash Can Man fail. I watched Randall Flagg fail. All because… they didn’t get to you in time.”

“Use me,”

Poke repeated, in a daze.

He held the key out in the air and turned it into an invisible lock. When he did, though, the lock of his cell clicked. The heavy door swung open on its hinges. He stepped out of his cell and Rogan embraced him.

 

The hallways were bustling with activity, as they were each week. Stagehands running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to make sure the show goes off without a hitch, and in the middle of all the fray, Lucy walked slowly down the hallway, clad in her ring gear. She was looking for her partner for tonight’s show and so far she wasn’t having much luck.

She wasn’t nervous. Why would she be?

Okay, she may have been a little nervous – But only because she wanted tonight to go well. Her first cooperative match since… Well, you know, and it was important to her to have a good outing.

Finally, she peeked into a doorway and saw Rogan sitting down, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Approaching the open door and knocking on it lightly, she leaned on the door frame and crossed her arms.

“Still feeling like shit?”

She asked with an ornery smirk on her face.

“Nah, I’ve had plenty of time to recover. You?”

He pulled his boot laces tight and looked down at them thoughtfully, before gazing back up at Lucy. He was nervous. And he had no problem admitting he was. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in the ring with a co-op partner.

She met his gaze and shook her head.

“Right as rain.”

She stepped into the room and helped herself to a seat adjacent to him, crossing her legs.

“I-I don’t know if I told you but I had fun, you know, the other night.. Shit, it’s been weeks hasn’t it?”

She chuckles to herself and looks down at her lap, feeling a bit foolish. Finally though she glanced back up, and tucked a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear as she continued.

“..And congratulations on beating Phrixus last week. Beating the champ in your first Synergy back isn’t a bad deal..”

Rogan nodded, his eyes going back down to his boots.

“Phrixus isn’t someone to look over. I was honestly surprised that I got one over on him. But he’s a man of constant evolution. He will make note, and he will come back stronger next time.”

He glanced over at her.

“For now, though, I’ve got my sights set on the task at hand. And I don’t know about you, but I grew pretty tired of being considered a joke in the past. I don’t intend on keeping such a reputation.”

He shrugged, looking down at the ground.

“Though, I feel that most of that was on me. It’s a different ballgame now.”

Lucy nodded her head.

“Can’t put all that on yourself. But hey, no fate but what you make… Right?”

She said quietly, her gaze falling on the side of his head as he stared at the ground. He lifted his head slowly and met her eyes again. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes. That’s right. No fate.”

He reached out and they fist bumped.

“We’re in a unique position, here. Dave Rydell and Donovan Hastings, both respectable opponents. No one can deny either man’s longevity. And despite what anyone says, they must be respected. Or they’ll make you respect them.”

Lucy sat back and sighed.

“You’re not wrong. I feel like I’ve been up against them too many times over the years, and I’ve yet to get a win over Donovan… Which bugs the hell out of me.”

Lucy mumbled the last part, shaking her head.

“Well it’s going to be different this time.”

Rogan gave her a smile.

“Don’t get me wrong. I respect both Dave and Donovan. But, we’re going to go out there tonight and show the entire roster that we’re not the jokes they used to think we were. Who knows, maybe even we will be surprised by our own potential.”

He stood, stretching out, a look of determination on his face.

“I got a good feeling about… this.”

She replies, watching him stretch as she motions her hand between herself and Rogan.

“Besides, I can never tell with Donny and Davey whether they’re gonna work together or whether they’re gonna try and kill one another. Seems like it changes from week to week. I wonder which team we’re gonna get out there in a little while.”

She mused as she uncrossed her legs and sat up.

“Let’s just assume they’ll be on the same page and go from there. You might have to carry me, I’m still a bit rusty.”

He winked, his grin broadening. Lucy rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“Riiight. That’s not what I saw last week, but if I gotta carry you… It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She gives him another sly smirk as she brings herself to her feet and does a few stretches of her own.

“Ohhh!”

His face changed to good-humor as he held his heart in mock pain.

“And here I thought you were above that Gabriel Baal bullshit!”

“Guess I’ve been hanging around him too much.”

She laughed again.

“But seriously.. We both know what we’re doing and we know we can’t take them lightly. They might think that just because you’re still settling back in that they can take advantage of that.. But I got your back. And I know you’ve got mine. I’m glad to have you in my corner again, you know.”

He nodded, looking at his old stablemate.

“The feeling is mutual, Lucy. Let’s go shake the world, what do ya say?”

He held out a hand, and she took it, smiling.

“I’d love nothing more.”