steady the trigger

There was a time when he did wonder what his life would have been like if he had been born in a nice stable family who loved him unconditionally. Maybe he would have grown up to be a productive member of society, get married, have children, you know? Normal shit. Lately, however, he decided that considering the ‘what could have beens’ in life was a waste of time, just as it was to dwell over his past mistakes. He was not going to change what happened. He couldn’t go back in time stop himself from getting involved in drugs and almost destroying his family’s name. Joseph never raised to be a leader, but a follower because he always saw him as a disappointment. He thought it was better for him to stay out of the way, and for years Stefan avoided responsibility. He was not prepared for this and Kate could see it in his eyes.

To tell Stefan that he could trust her should not be a lie but she honestly did not know herself. Gianna had approached her, Gianna knew that she was loyal to herself first before anyone else. So to openly declare loyalty to the Rinaldi family was a big move she had not yet made for she was unsure she was prepared to do so. Gianna could see the struggle for someone like her to align with them, to align with a family whose seams had been ripped when they were already loose.

As much as he wanted to agree with Kate, he just couldn’t. Stefan knew that he had been the one to draw first blood. Of course, he never really imagined that Dominic would end up shooting one of his own, and because of Genevieve Rossi. The very thought of it made him sick to his stomach. He thought a lot of things about Dominic, but never truly wished him death until now. And it was a real tragedy. No matter how much he disliked his siblings, he never really wanted them to be in any real harm. And now, he wanted to personally skin Dominic alive, and it was a hatred that he was not sure how to control. 

"Stefan..." She could see him falling apart, stitch by stitch tearing apart. That woman, she was Stefan's power source. Kate would never quite understand just how anyone could value someone the way Stefan valued Aless but she was beginning to see the man at his heart. There was a fierce sense of loyalty, of protection, hidden under miles of anger and armor. And that armor was something she did know about.

Stefan didn’t like to look vulnerable, specially in front of the people that worked for him but right now he really could not help it. He wasn’t dead inside, and his only lifeline was bleeding out in a hospital bed. And to know that she had been caught in the crossfire because of something he had done, was killing him. And yet, he did not regret his actions. Genevieve Rossi deserved to be shot or worse. Stefan had been confident that Alessandra was being protected. that someone was with her at all times making sure that nothing happened to her. Kate had been appointed with that job, and even when she had failed miserably in doing so, Stefan wasn’t angry with her. His rage was too concentrated against Dom to consider her failure.

"I failed, Stefan. I need to at least see that she will be alright. I didn't hate Aless, you know." I don't even hate you. You need to be alright too.

"Kate" The name came out soft as he saw her walking past him down the hall outside of the ICU. Stefan was not even sure how he looked like at the moment, but his eyes were still burning inside of his skull. And he could feel himself  quivering. Not only because they kept the damn place so freaking cold, but because he was scared of the possibility of losing her. 

Her head turned to the voice slowly, unsure of how to proceed as she laid eyes on Stefan. She knew she was of the majority to have viewed him negatively, to have not understood anything. But if she understood anything about this man now, it was that he cared for his sister. This was a dark day.

Some consider self preservation as cowardly. A strategic move it could be, but only if the intent to strike back at an unsuspecting time were in the works as they fled. This girl would only be running to get away from shit she didn’t want to face. If the situation were reversed I would stand adamant where I stood and kill anyone who threatened me or the child. Would you not do the same?

I disagree. You don't fight an uphill battle, Lorenzo. It's a plea for death and destruction. You or I, we may have the capability to fight back but that doesn't make it any wiser. This young girl, what makes you think she's capable? This isn't just shit she doesn't want to face, it's dangerous and getting the hell out doesn't seem like a bad option for her.

Running only makes people cowards, does it not?

In some circumstances. Sometimes it's self preservation, a strategic move. I wouldn't blame this girl.

Darcy wanted her revenge. That stupid last name was the only way she could get it. I can’t run fast enough. I don’t believe you, it’s—

I may work for them, I may get my job done, but I am not that cruel. The Rinaldi's do not control me, I don't do anything I don't believe in and they believe in things I do not. This city is poison. Why would I want an innocent little boy to fall into this trap?

What you’re allowed to do is get the ever loving fuck out of this church— and take the motley crew with you, they don’t need to be here, nor do they deserve to. Do your fucking job and protect that hand that feeds you before something goes down.

My job is to protect the Rinaldis. It's become different since Joseph was jailed but that baby boy is a Rinaldi and I give much more of a damn about his safety than I do for the messed up family that employs me. I didn't come for their needs, I came to keep an eye on them. But really, do you think they'd listen to anything I said?

Darcy wouldn’t have—she wouldn’t have wanted that. I want it. I want to leave, but I can’t raise that baby alone. I can’t make—I can’t make them uproot their lives with me. They’ll find me. They’ll—kill me. They’ll kill him. She wanted this baptism that all of you ruined. Fuck, I c-can’t. I can’t she wanted me to go through with this stupid baptism and there are Rinaldi’s at every door. I can’t take Joey right n-now, there’s too many eyes. I won’t risk it.

Then you find the back door, the one people aren't looking at, and you run. There are places you can go that will be safe, people that will help you. It's not my business, Sydney, I know that, but you have to look at the options. Maybe Darcy can't determine what happens.

Don’t ask questions you don’t deserve the answer to, Laurent.

No one here deserves anything, that's clear enough by now. I'm allowed to think what I will.

I could ask the same question about you?

No new work is coming through. What would it mean to admit defeat and hole up again? Maybe if I hadn't already stumbled on the job...

Maybe she can’t.

What is keeping you? You could run to the corners of the earth with that child and give it a life far from this one. Is someone holding you by force? A gun to your temple, a chain on your wrist?

“Some people think they are prepared until the time comes. The truth is, you can’t because it always comes to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.” It bothered him to think that he might find himself so captivated, but he would preach her beauty to anyone who dared question him - and he himself, as it appeared now. It was lust that drove him and little else, and she sufficed -rather, excelled- in a physical capacity some unspoken mandate he had declared with himself. Want for her seemed insufficient, and need too desperate. What he felt fell somewhere between the two, creating a confusing medium that his ever-rational brain wanted desperately to dissect into its innumerable parts, but finding no starting point, Stefan’s brow knit in a display of personal frustration. Only a few steps away, and it occurred to him the expression he wore. He swallowed a large gulp of warm, damp air and with an expulsion of breath erased any trace of negativity in favor of total calm.

Kate was not the type to play coy, she was well aware of the waters she was treading, well aware what it meant to play the game with the man before her. But this was no longer any game and she was becoming certain it hadn't even been. This was not solace nor was it carnal. The way his fingers traced over her back, the way she ran fingers along his chest, his neck, the way his lips brushed her ear. It was something else. She'd be hard pressed to put a name to it but she could easily eliminate it from being a convenient fuck, it wasn't at all consummation of a greater emotion. It meant more and less, respectively.