#p:grayson

@graysonwells​

Jack entered the brewery a little nervously. He’d been there before, of course, to pick up orders or to grab a drink (or many) at the attached bar, but never during the day. It looked different now; cleaner and somehow more intimidating. He straightened the stack of papers in his hands, feeling the nerves coiling in his gut and headed for Grayson’s office upstairs before he could change his mind.

He gave a knock and entered at the first sign of an invitation, puffing his chest slightly in an attempt to fill himself with confidence. “Hey, Gray, it’s me,” he announced, leading into the room head-first, only to stop near the entryway. “You busy? I wanna talk to you about uh- an idea I have,” he said, slapping on a smile to hide his uncertainty as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

@graysonwells

Jack found himself surrounded by people he didn’t really know, his fourth, possibly fifth, glass of whiskey in hand. He had a dopey smile on his face, his eyes tracking their way around the modestly decorated distillery wing of the Wells Brewery, the space so fresh that the space still smelled faintly of concrete, wood, and varnish. He couldn’t help himself from looking around every few minutes, taking in every detail he could find. And this was all his. Well, not completely his, exactly, but still it was the most substantial thing to his name he’d ever had. 

He realized his attention had drifted away from the conversation he was having, his gaze turning back to his brother to find a knowing smile on the other man’s face. 'You’re really fucking happy, huh, Jack?' Josh asked, a chuckle underneath his tone. Jackson took in a breath, a grin on his face as he let it back out, his split lip making him wince slightly. “Fuck, you have no idea. I still can’t believe this is all real, that this party’s kinda for me, you know?” he said shaking his head at himself as he glanced at the other guests, most of them friends or family of those involved in the construction, or longstanding employees of the brewery. His gaze eventually fell on a familiar face, and if Jackson were a more sentimental man, he may very well have shed a tear. There was so much to be thankful for, but perhaps most of all was Grayson. At the very least he wasn’t on the verge of crying from the throbbing in he left arm anymore - the booze saw to that. He knew better now than to go on a renegade mission the night before an evening of celebrations. Jack must have been staring a little too long, because there was a nudge against his elbow. 'Looks like your business partner’s looking to congratulate you, Jackie. I should probably get home anyway, it’s getting late.' And with a brief solid hug, Josh was heading towards the exit before Jack could argue, the sudden surge of pain blooming in his rib with the pressure. He turned back to look at Grayson.

Eleanor wasn’t quite sure whose idea camping had been but she was sure that she was taking absolutely no responsibility for it. Getting away from the real world with Grayson had seemed like a good idea at the time, she couldn’t deny that. She just wasn’t sure how they’d also decided that they should do that in the middle of nowhere. “So have we set specific odds on how we’re going to die? Because there are so many ways that could happen and it’s almost dark, so I think we’re officially committed to this thing,” she announced, looking up at Grayson as she added a piece of wood to the fire in front of her. They’d actually probably been committed when they entered the second hour of trying to erect the tent without instructions—something they’d finally accomplished though Eleanor wasn’t convinced that it wouldn’t collapse on them in the middle of the night. “The smart money is on one of us making a dramatic exit off a cliff, though, so I’d watch your step if I were you,” she teased as she straightened and turned to face him.

Yesterday I died, tomorrow’s bleeding

Last thing she remembered was Ethan’s face, smiling down at her while she was being kicked in from all sides. Her skull felt like it had cracked open, her loins feeling like it was on fire. Never once had she feared for her own life; a life that seemed to matter little, for what was the life of a pathetic little nurse who couldn’t place her loyalty? No all that mattered for Hazel, was the life of her unborn child. Even if it was just a few weeks ago that she had discovered her pregnancy, she felt the motherly need to keep it safe; keep it hidden away. Her arms wrapped around her torso, bruised and cracking when in contact with metal pipes and forceful kicks. 

And then the pain had stopped, a shadow weighing over her as she was rolled half onto her front, curled up for as much as she could. 

“Be careful who you make your friends, and who you make your enemy, Miss Goodman.” Ethan had breathed into her ear. His voice sending shivers down her back as she tried hard not to cry when he brushed a finger through bloodied and dirty hair. “Should’ve chosen my side when you could. Now you’re nothing but a message.”

Something had intervened, or someone. For instead of choking her to death, like he had started to, a blow to the head was what had send her into darkness--

"She was lucky. Cracked skull, dislocated shoulder, a lot of bruising, internal bleeding.. Miraculously, they both survived.” 

“Both?”

“What do you mean, both?”

"Oh I-- Miss Goodman is pregnant?”

Silence. 

“We’ll keep her under surveillance, as well as the child. She’s only a few weeks, but if the child can become a danger to her health.. well.. I take it one of you will make a decision?” 

Another silence. This time the deep voiced man took the silence as his queue to go. wishing the other persons in the room a good day. A door slid open, and closed again. 

“Pregnant?!”

“Shit..”

“Did you know of this Ivanna?”

“She didn’t tell me--”

“You mean she lied to--”

“Back off Jim! She probably didn’t even know herself.”

“She knew.” 

Warren. Even when not able to move, speak or open her eyes, Hazel recognized his voice from anywhere.

“How do you know?”

Short silence

“How do you know?!”

“Because it is mine.” 

“A child with a cop.. Great. I need a fucking break.” 

The sound of Jim exiting the room was the last she was aware of; darkness consuming her once more. 

They told her it had been four days that she had been found on the street, by Warren himself, no less. Her head was pounding every moment of the day. No painkillers could take it away, not that she wanted any; she wanted as less threats to her unborn child as possible. Jim had never returned; Ivanna and Warren were with her constantly, mostly Ivanna, for she had managed to get Warren to return to the police station once in a while. 

She had told them everything; about how Ethan had ambushed her; but she couldn’t remember faces; not remember the amount. Just his voice; just what he had done to her.

“You’re safe now.” Warren had told her, reaching out to caress her through her hair, and she had perhaps too rudely moved her head away. She hadn’t meant to, but it had reminded her of what Ethan had done. 

“Give her a break.” Ivanna told Warren, reading a book in the corner of the room, or at least had been, for she put it aside now. “Get some sleep. The doctor said you needed to rest. “

But her rest had been short lived; all due to an unannounced visitor.

After an initial meeting, the older head of therapy couldn't help but be curious about the snarky, sarcastic old teen male he'd just previously met. He'd heard a bit about the story, about the boat that just never came back, but he had no idea what each of those patients were here for. Though, now that he'd had this assigned therapy date, he figured it was his time to find out -- at least one of them. He had to admit -- he was completely shocked that one of his patients actually agreed to meet for therapy, seeing as Holmes was typically the therapist each patient tried to avoid. They didn't prefer his tough love approach, for some reason preferring to be coddled by the more sensitive therapists. But, that had never been the way Holmes approached life. Life wouldn't coddle a person, in fact, life could be downright cruel. So, to prepare these patients for the real world, he vowed to himself to never baby a patient. 

The therapist leaned back in his chair, twiddling a couple pencils between his fingers, until there was a knock on the door. "Come on in," The male yelled out, too lazy to really get up and get the door. "Water and soda are in the mini fridge over there, if you're parched from your long walk here, and if you touch my scotch in there, I might just have to chop your hand off." His sarcastic yet still truthful greeting creating his usual smirk, before he nodded to a chair across from his desk, before kicking his own feet onto the mahogany. "Alright, first, let's hit the basics. Why are you here?"

If there was one thing that Penny had learned it was that things didn't always go the way she planned. Actually if she was perfectly honest things never really went as planned, mostly because other people worked against her plans. She most definitely had not planned on ending up with tearing pain in her leg and torn suit as she tried to get herself to the only place she could think of, the only person she really didn't want to have to go to when she was like this but had to -- Grayson.

While she had trapped half of the small time crime duo that had made themselves semi-known in New York over the past few weeks as they tried to move on from convenience stores to the bank the other half seemed to have gotten away. But as Penny was chatting away with the man, spewing out casual Bonnie and Clyde references she hadn't been paying enough attention to her surroundings, to caught up in her own fun of mocking him to notice his partners sneaking up on her. The whole thing might've ended with the both of them trapped in her web, but that didn't mean they hadn't got a few punches in themselves.

She was in pain when she knocked on the window, it seemed like bruises she couldn't place how she had obtained was starting to form over her body. But the bigger issue was definitely the cut on her thigh, the knife had torn through the material of the suit and created a still bleeding gash, but she still didn't think it was too deep. Penny knew this was her fault, she should've paid more attention, and she knew Grayson wouldn't be happy to see her like this not at all.

"Yes, I'll have a large cheese pizza." The female spoke, not taking her eyes off the large menu plastered to the wall. She bit down on her bottom lip. scanning the list of various toppings and types of pizzas a person could choose from. "And an order of cheesy bread." She added, now taking her eyes off the menu in order to look at the female behind the counter. The young girl seemed to be frozen in place, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. It wasn't until Leonie checked behind her to see what the girl was starting at that she realized the younger girl was staring at her. It was something that the actress was sure she could never truly get used to but she had managed to find a way to either ignore it or take it as a compliment. 

Within fifteen minutes or so Leonie was back in her car, the pizza placed on the passenger seat. Placing the keys into the ignition the girl pulled out her cellphone, deciding to send Grayson a text to let him know that she was on her way. Tucking the device back into her pocket she buckled her seat belt and turned the key-- sending life into the ignition. 

It had been some time now since she had seen Grayson what with her being in Spain last week and always on the go before that. Sure, she had called and texted him almost every day but she had missed him nonetheless. It was for this reason that Leonie was more than excited to start working on Riot, what with the fact that both of them had a role, maybe then they would be able to see each other more often. Grayson was one of the only people in her life that Leonie could talk to about anything and everything. He was more than her best friend, but in what direction that 'more' went in Leonie wasn't sure of just yet.