I'm a Selfish Bastard, The End

Who: Doc and Seph
When: early evening
Where: Martens house, in yon garage

Seph pushed the protective shield over his face up to arm some sweat off of his forehead. He frowned at the big floppy glove that kind of got in the way and slung his arm down to get it off. In the other, he held the tongs, hovering around the opening to the actual fire-part of the forge. He was working on Syn's Christmas present, trying to get the feel of working with finer, smaller metals. He'd already made a few crude daggers, done some bullets in the mold, that sort of thing. But silver and gold? Goddamn. He stuck it into the heat for a few seconds, then pulled it back out and bent over the anvil again, going to work with a small hammer.

For such a roughshod image he presented in the flesh, Doc took meticulous care of his car. The pristine Superbee rolled up into the garage after having left much earlier that day, a day spent out with Kurt scoping out local vehicles for sale, restocking his pantries, and just talking the way two comrades could do without necessarily saying much. Doc's hopes were high for the vague plan he had for the twins and his 'associates' to meet, to plan together. If he could bring them all together, he'd hope the rest would go well on the merits of everyone involved.

Hopping from the vehicle, he grinned at the few inches of space between the garage door and the concrete, as well as the light from within. Even with the new ventilation, it got devilishly hot inside, and if airflow was being regulated? Seph was inside. Doc grinned at that, still heartened by his time with Kurt earlier. Both men had their sorrows, but together? All of them together? They could do this. Now he just needed to tell Seph the plan, and admit that he'd spent the previous night with a woman Seph probably could've gone to highschool with. Tugging the garage door up enough to slip under, Doc yanked it back down quickly and shed his coat as heat enveloped him. "Hey," he called over, grinning wider through his beard at the sight of Seph working at the anvil.

Seph's head whipped around with an expression of fierce suspicion. It only lasted a second, however, as recognition sank in and he saw that it was only Doc. "Hey," he called back, turning back to his work for a couple more tinks of the hammer before he set it aside. He turned, pulling the head gear completely off and tugging his shirt up to wipe his sweaty face. One would never know there was snow on the ground, judging by the temperature in the garage. He could use a break, anyway, and moved over to the fridge on the far wall to pull a water bottle out. "How's it hangin'?" he posed, glancing at Doc curiously. They didn't actually make it a huge point to talk a whole lot.

In the past, that lack of talk had been a tension between them, things both left unsaid. In recent days? It was a trust, from Doc's end at least. He had faith that Seph would find him if there was trouble, and that he could go to Seph on the same terms. Which was part of why he'd sought him out tonight, for certain. Seph had been focused on his sister for most of his life, sure, but the younger man had always been handsome enough that girls noticed him. And at the very least, another opinion on things was always welcome. Of course, that was secondary to the whole 'let's save the town/the world' angle.

"Actually, pretty damned well," Doc answered earnestly. Eva's absence still ached on some level, a hollow pain that he knew would sting again, but there were bigger things to focus on. And some equally sized ones that just felt good. "What's the project you've got going here?" he asked as he moved up on the forge, keeping from glancing to a cluster of tools where he'd stashed the progress on Seph's gift-in-progress.

"Christmas present for my sister," he said, referring to her as his in an entirely subconscious way. He stepped forward again to examine how things were going at Doc's side, glancing over every so often at the man's expression. "It's gonna be a ring, kinda ... twined together with two metals. I dunno, it makes sense in my head." He didn't think he was making awesome progress, but he had a couple months yet to get better. Plenty of time and not, at the same time. He stood there and sipped his water, vaguely wondering if Doc had a purpose. Not in an impatient way, just a wonder.

Leaning over with an appraising line in his brow, Doc studied the project as it was in this moment. He could see why Seph would think there was room to improve, but for how long he'd been at this? It was an impressive start, and Doc knew the dedication of making it for Synnove would propel him forward. "It makes perfect sense," Doc agreed with a little nod and smile aimed at Seph briefly, "It's called braiding, just like with hair. The trick, when you want to do it with precious metals, is to set up a core. I'll get you some titanium, you forge it into a thin hoop. Then you braid everything else around it so your softer stuff keeps the shape of the loop."

He straightened and shook his head at himself, giving an apologetic turn to his expression for Seph's sake. "Or you can scrap that idea, you look like you've got a fine start here. I'm no jeweller, but I think you'll figure out the technique if you keep at it," he added eventually, chiding himself for butting in. Seph wasn't his student, he was his son. "There's a couple of things I wanted to run by you, if you can afford a break."

He took in the information impassively. He would take it into consideration, try to see if he could actually do it. He shrugged a shoulder noncommittally. "It'll work out somehow," he said, leaning back against another part of the workspace that was around. Now that he wasn't hunched over hot metal pounding it with a hammer, he was starting to not be so overheated. "Sure thing, always," he said, arching an eyebrow at his adopted father. One never really knew what was going to be asked when Doc wanted to run things by you, it was good to pay attention. So he was, looking attentive as he sipped on his water.

Moving around the anvil, Doc plucked a smoke from his pack and tucked it in his lips, leaning in to press it against the door of the forge. He could feel his hair drying out as the cigarette lit up, standing back up with a chuckle and moving to give Seph his space back. "Gonna have a meeting here in the next few nights. Me, my friend Kurt, a few others who work with us. Just a general meet-and-greet sort of thing, I'd like you and Syn to come," Doc stated hopefully, "You two are as well-versed as most professional hunters in town, I'd really appreciate if I could count on you for help." Which he figured was a given, but not asking would be taking the two of them for granted.

"Of course," Seph said automatically. Especially if it was there, in their house. He didn't like many people coming through that he didn't at least get a good look at. He remembered the big Kurt-guy from the shadow siege, and had to wonder who else Doc had dug up to join in the fight. He seemed to be good at that. Really good. "Not gonna ask me to cook for it, are you?" he asked with a wry little grin. "You gotta give me advanced notice for big parties, y'know, or it'll cost you extra." He was joking, of course, but he was definitely down with some meet-and-greet with what could possibly be a crew.

"I couldn't cancel out your fees with Blacksmithing 101?" Doc asked, grinning right back as his arms folded across his chest, one bringing his smoke to and from his lips. The pose itself was a little hint that the other topic was a little more tense; planning for work didn't wind Doc up, getting personal definitely did. "Eva's gone," he said then, an abrupt jump the levity of a moment earlier, "Skipped town, on the run from the authorities. Turns out the cursed stuff from the mines wasn't all she'd stolen."

Seph was about to say 'hell no, brother, cash only', when the verbal bomb was dropped. Doc didn't really shift topics like that normally; he waxed philosophic at length about this or that, so it was a little surprising. The younger man blinked for a second, eyebrows up. "Well ... holy fuck, dude, that sucks," he said, for lack of anything more eloquent. He knew the -- completely insanely beautiful, shit on a stick -- woman had meant something to the old man, otherwise he would've dropped her like a hot potato at the first signs of the kids not liking her. Seph hadn't really known her very well, but he'd respected that she'd come to them with what seemed like sincere apologies. And him first. " ... anything I can do?" he offered, still not really sure what might be good to say.

Even though there wasn't anything, the offer was sincere, and that meant something. Doc smiled faintly, shaking his head Seph's way. "Thanks for the offer, but no. This is just about me really coming to grips with the fact that there's nothing I can do, I think. Can't change someone's choice because I don't like it. Can't save people from what they opt for," he said, moving to his tool bench and leaning against the edge. And he was getting that somewhat, though it'd take time and another face-first exposure to it for Doc to know he'd really learned.

"Eva's smart, she'll be alright. Maybe I'll even see her again some day. That's just part of the story," Doc went on with a sigh, feeling awkward even though he'd gone over this with Syn that morning. "After I found out she'd left, I... got a work call. Showed up at Babylon, which was weird. I don't do much local work, y'know? And I was looking for this woman." He smirked in faint embarassment, relishing the memory even if it was unresolved. "Well, I found her. I was trying to get her to pledge herself to me, to help us. And somehow? She... we... I stayed the night," he finally just said, deciding not to mince words there.

Oooooookay, it was Doc's Sharey Story Hour. He didn't smell drunk, but there went a helluva confession -- from Seph's skewed virginal viewpoint, at least -- right there on the table. And why it was aimed in his direction, he hadn't the first clue. It wasn't like he was some Cassanova or anything. He was in unrequited love with his twin sister, sensibility was lacking somewhat. If Doc wanted advice, he was in the wrong place. "So ... your girlfriend skipped town so she wouldn't get caught and put in jail ... and this ... lady at Babylon calls you out somehow to bang her?" he assessed questioningly, just wanting to make sure he had the story right. More or less. "In one day?"

"Not quite," Doc was quick to say, helpless against a little laugh. Hearing it put like that was just funny for some reason, though he felt a little bad to be hitting Seph with all of this. "When I get a job, it's a feeling. It means that somewhere there's a decision, someone is at the path with a fork in it, deciding where they go," he explained more confidently now that he was back on solid ground for at least a moment, "In some cases, when one of their choices means they can preserve the balance I'm working for, I recruit them. That's how I met Kurt. She, Jocelyn, was supposed to be one of them, I think. And when I told her why I was there? Well, I think she liked the offer. But yes, all of this was my yesterday."

He sighed in soft confusion again, head shaking. He had some insight on it, and the confidence to try and see where it would go, but talking to another guy (even a virgin) was a must. Just for perspective. "I've just been feeling weird about it. I mean, I cared about Eva. There were walls there, there were lines we never crossed together, but I still cared. I just feel like maybe this happening in the wake of that showed me that it was off with Eva." Or that he'd wanted something they weren't, perhaps. "And the point of this hugely uncomfortable to listen to story is that I'm pretty sure Jocelyn's going to be at the meeting, and I don't want all of this to be a surprise."

"How come I never have days like that," Seph muttered somewhere in there, but not really for anyone's benefit. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to function that way, with random sex. Called out somewhere for an important reason or not. But he kind of defined Extenuating Circumstances in that department, so his thoughts on the matter were probably not the most trustworthy. The man seemed to be seeking insight in some form or fashion, though, so he tried to rally and think of something sensible. "Um ... I guess if you're not all ... guilt-ridden over it or feel like you cheated or something, then it was over before yesterday," he said. That was rational, right?

"If your gut's not in something, it's not in something, and, I mean, not to be crude or anything, if it's in something else the first chance it gets, then ... yeah, I'd say you don't have anything to stress over. If you're stressing. If this was all ... meant to happen or whatever, bully for you, just stay away from the couch and my room. And I hope she's not ... " he paused there, because that was a concern to possibly put delicately. "I hope she's trustworthy," he settled on. Doc knew how strong his paranoia was, and for good reason. He mimiced Doc's position subconsciously, crossing his arms over his chest, fingernails picking lightly at the skin of one elbow.

"You want my job?" Doc asked with a smirk, responding to Seph's first mutter, "Two days ago I was in Serbia. Trust me, yesterday was a one-off." But even with both of their light touches of humor, he was considering. There was solid advice scattered in there, to be sure. He knew that Eva was gone, he'd tried tracking her already. And even before he'd come up empty, Doc just knew she wasn't going to suddenly change her mind and come back. And like Seph said, if it was meant to happen? If that shared night had been the reason for his summons? Bully for me.

"I'm going to make sure she's trustworthy before she comes here," he went on with a nod of agreement, "I'm going to cover every loose end I can, no way am I going to let... whatever it was bring trouble on the lot of us." Which meant meeting with Eris, talking with Jocelyn, getting her to pledge, to take his sigil. Which meant tomorrow would probably be another busy day. "Oh, I'm also supposed to pre-warn you, you and Syn are both free to mock me for being a filthy old man," Doc went on, slipping another cigarette free and lighting it off his old one, "She's... young. Older than you two, but not by much. And yes, I know it's weird of me."

"Nah, not weird," Seph said with an odd little half-smile. "Who doesn't love something fresh, yeah?" He really couldn't help it, having noticed that from what the old man said? He knew pretty much nothing about her yet. He didn't mention hours of stimulating conversation, after all, he mentioned trying to get the woman to pledge herself to him and then 'spending the night' as he so delicately put it. It sparked some weird sort of jealousy deep in his stomach that likely had no right at all to be there. But that was true of pretty much all of his emotions. Other people got what they wanted in brilliant flashes of chance or fate or whatever ... what Seph wanted? An eternal No. And that was why he was bad to talk to about this kind of shit most of the time. It was hard for him to see past.

He pushed off of the counter and started putting the tools he'd been using away, just to have something to do with his hands that wasn't picking at himself. "Looking forward to meeting her," he said, though it came out a tiny bit flat. It wasn't about him, he just couldn't be terribly helpful with this sort of thing.

There was no way Doc could understand the turmoil in Seph's thoughts, but there were plenty of ways to misunderstand it. All he had to do was pick. What he opted for was Seph's willingness to give Eva another chance on some level, imagining some disappointment in the younger man for how quickly Doc had ended up elsewhere in her absence. "I hope so," Doc said with a thin frown, "Things there are a little complicated. She's a witch, works up at Babylon, but she's sharp too." What he didn't say, given what he saw as the problem, was 'she'll fit in this world more than Eva'. That would've been too blunt to just say, really, even if Doc thought it was true. Eva had gotten by her whole life on the surface of things, using her power and keeping it secret.

"And if everything goes okay at the meeting, I may need you and Syn to work with her at some point," he went on, not wanting to push that either, but needing it stated, "If she's in the fight, then we all stick together. And if you hate her? Please tell me so I don't push and make things worse."

"Oh you'll know if we hate her," Seph said with a faint chuckle, tossing the tongs back where they belonged and wrapping his creation so far in the bit of cloth he was keeping it safe in. He crouched to move some stuff around under the workbench to tuck it back into it's hiding spot, then pulled the damper on the forge. Doc knew better than to think they'd stay tight-lipped on something like that, Synnove especially. "But all for one and one for all, personal feelings aside," he said, looking over for a brief moment, then away again. "If there are personal feelings." Because he couldn't really say either way. Just because he felt left out of that particular brand of life-happiness didn't mean she was a shitbag or anything. He always had dreams. And making Syn happy any way he could without crossing those lines.

That was the twister in it all, wasn't it? There were personal feelings. Seph wouldn't want to hear Doc meander through his own confusion about the sparks that had come up both during talking and more physical moments, but the fact was that they were there. He just had to figure out what they meant, if they were infatuation, post-coital highs, or what. So he just chuckled again over Seph's guarantee that dislike wouldn't be hidden, moving back over and rounding up some errant handling towels. "Thanks, Seph," he said with a grateful grin, "I appreciate it. And I'm sorry to dump on you with all of this, I just... I know there's trouble coming for us all. We need to keep the lines open between us, even if they get awkward. That's where trust comes from." There, that felt better. A little sagelike observation always made Doc feel slightly less exposed.

"Right," Seph said, and that felt like a complete and total lie. He stood there and stared at the old man for a minute. Granted, it had been weird to just be walked up to and shared with that way; nobody did that to him except his sister, and then he always already knew before she even showed up. But did he feel like the important communication channels were open? They held more of the same old shit, but were they open? No. He and Doc had come to an understanding, more or less, and from his angle, it looked like that understanding included him avoiding certain things. Like what was driving him to hand-forge a ring for his twin. He asked himself honestly if he could really blurt the thoughts running through his head out at that moment, and decided that he couldn't. It was a working relationship. Trouble coming for them all, had to be ready to work through it. He looked about to say something, then shook his head slightly. "Don't rush anything, that's my only advice," he said.

Blinking thoughtfully at that near-speech look Seph had, Doc just gave a slight nod. "I wasn't planning to," he assured him, wanting to press but feeling unsure if he should. It hurt that the most open they'd ever been was when they were on the edge of a fistfight, and that the closest had been in the days after Seph's near-death and slow healing. And he knew he could never understand the younger man entirely, but that didn't mean Doc didn't want to try. "Everything okay? I know I'm paranoid plenty of times, but I get the feeling I missed something." Uncertainty or not, he'd told Seph that he would do this once; that he would ask, he would press when he was worried, and deal with the fallout if and when it hit.

In an easier world, Seph could just say 'yep, all kosher' and walk away from the conversation. But this was not an easy world. Didn't mean he wouldn't try anyway. "Nothing that needs worrying about," he said with a faint little smile. Because some day he had to start dealing on his own. He really, really did. The state of his life wasn't going anywhere, and every other thing happening outside of it couldn't derail him. They called them coping mechanisms in group therapy back at the Whale. Which meant he wanted to go work out. He started in that direction, for the door that led to the house proper and the basement below, giving Doc a friendly thunk on the arm. His shadow-man slid through the door in front of him, slick and oily and ever-present.

This? This was the problem he'd been musing on all day, and part of the previous night. Doc could twist an arms deal in Serbia to sprout up new crops of fighting, could sway insrugent fighters in the Middle East, but his own life? His family? He was still so hesitant to cause damage, or even risk it. "I may not like whatever it is," he said at Seph's back as the younger Martens moved past him, "But I'll always listen. And if I don't get to hear? Of course I'll worry." He looked back to where Seph had been working, neck popping stiffly for a moment. A little exertion was a good thing indeed. "You know where to find me," Doc said finally, moving to the forge and starting to stoke the flames.

I'm a selfish bastard, the end, Seph thought behind him cynically. Syn might catch it from him, but he didn't really care. He couldn't hide anything from her anyway. She knew how he felt about everything. But he could indeed hide it from Doc. And it was such an open sore that he thought that was probably for the best. Otherwise he might not be trusted for Doc's Sharey Story Hour again. Sometimes the appearance of being stable was a good thing. "Maybe later," he called over his shoulder, even though that probably wouldn't happen. He let the door swing shut behind him, and made a beeline for the basement stairs. It was time to beat the hell out of some bags.