Participants:
| Scene Title | Daddy's Home |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | After not knowing what happened to each other, Ryans and Delia are reunited. |
| Date | September 03, 2010 |
The sun's been up for hours, so has the young redheaded woman on the 6th floor. She's been spending her time scrubbing the hardwood floor and polishing it with wax until the sunlight gleams of it in a blinding flash. At least it's something to do. No books, no computer, why she didn't bring her laptop… It was a stupid mistake.
It's been three days with nothing. Three mornings since the text from Rebel and there hasn't been a word. The little apartment in Gun Hill has two bedrooms, one for herself and one for Huruma, for now. Perched in the window high above the street, Delia looks down to spot two white vans pulling up in front of the building. They said she'd be getting some furniture today, which is nice considering she's been a little cranky from sleeping on the hard floor.
Where she would regularly go out to meet them, she's been warned to keep a low profile. Delia's always been a little too curious for her own good though, so she can't help gluing herself to the door and staring out the peephole. It seems like forever before the first of the white hats peeks over the floor line.
"… "
It's not easy peering through a peephole, with it's warped fish eye view of the world beyond. While she can hear murmuring of people beyond the door, she can't really make out much. When the first of the movers crests the top of the stairs, she's only graced with the bent head of someone carrying a large box. Frustrating for her is the fact, that the wide bill of the ball cap covering the features. How is she going to know who is coming in her house?!
Then she hears it.
"This one?"
It's muffled, but the voice is unforgettable. You grow up with someone, their voice becomes imprinted. That deep rumble that can either be a gentle comfort or make you want to flee.
Then she sees who is under the hat…
Outside the door, Benjamin Ryans head lifts, head turning back a little, to look at the Ferryman just down the stairs. He's looking for confirmation that this was where he'd find her. "Yeah, that's were they set up her and that tall dark friend of hers." There is a short nod of Ben's head, a slight loosening of the tension within. With the mixed reception from the organization, he's been unable to truly relax.
He doesn't expect a warm welcome, he knows what he and his team are to the Ferrymen. What they have gotten is more then he ever thought they would get.
"Thank y—."
Word are cut short as he can hear something very much like a banshee's keening wail through the door. "DADDYeeeeeee!" With it comes the frantic fumbling of locks as the door rattles on it's hinges. The delay gives Ryans just enough time to drop the box on the floor, with a loud Whump before the door of the apartment flies open and he's wrapping his arms around a blur of red hair and tears, as it's flung at him.
"IDIDNTKNOWIFYOURWEREALIVEORDEADANDIWASSOSCAREDYOURNEVERALLOWEDTOEVERWORKEVEREVERVEVERAGAINIDONTCAREIFYOUGETBORED!!!!" The hurried rush of words is barely intelligible through the tears, snot, muffled against the white uniform. Her long red hair is as frizzy as it ever was, coming out in tightly wound springs from her head. It's such a mass that the men and women with Ryans can barely see any of his face.
She's locked against him for more than a minute before she pulls back. Delia's face is red with tear stains and the tip of her nose looks like she could be asked to pull Santa's sleigh. None of it matters, not right now. The tension that's been coiled up inside of her is finally released. She can breathe.
Beyond her, visible to Ryans is the bare apartment that she's been living in. It looks and smells very clean. A pallet of folded blankets is tucked into the corner, leaning up against the wall is a sagging air mattress. Welcome home.
The redhead turns to look at the apartment and then lifts one side of her lips in a crooked half smile. "C'mon dad, lemme show you around. You're staying here, right? I mean, Huruma's here… but she'll probably go back to her house now that you're here. I was so scared… Dad, this was worse than the bomb…"
There's a pause.
"Because I didn't know if anyone was ever coming home."
The jumble of words from his youngest, has an odd effect on the old man. He smiles. His arms tight around his daughter, face pressed against the tangled mess of her hair. There is so much relief over knowing at least one of his daughters is there safe and sound. Ryans doesn't say a word, just holds her while she cries and babbles non-stop.
His arms loosen when she pull away and he favors her one of those rare smiles that is only reserved for his girls… and at one time their mother. "Alright…" He murmurs gently, before glancing back at the men. "Just… give us a few, start on the other if you have too." None of them have family waiting to show them around their new home away from home.
Benjamin then turns back to his fiery haired spawn and motions her to lead the way. "Show me what we have to work with." A hint of his smile remains as he waits for her to give him the grand toure. He couldn't really care less about their living arrangements, that she's safe is the only thing that matters.
Grabbing her father's hand, Delia tugs him into the living room. "Oh dad, wait until you see it," she breathes. "It's kind of small but there's a fire escape right outside the window. I've always wanted a fire escape outside the window, we can sit out there like in Breakfast at Tiffany's!!" It was one of Mary's favorites, she and the girls used to watch it every time Ben went away for extended trips.
When Ben turns his head, there's a sight of home. Taped onto the wall is a collage of family photos; Ben, Mary, and the girls, in various forms, some are posed and some are quite candid. In the middle of the arrangement is a portrait of Mary, one absconded from its frame that still lays broken on the floor of Ben's bedroom back in Queens. The corner is bent, but her face and hair are unmarred.
"You girls and your sappy—" The words, spoken in good humor, are cut off instantly when the collage catches his eyes. There is a slight widening of blue eyes, before his hand slide out of his daughters. His steps are slow and uncertain as he approaches the photos.
Finger touch the edges of the photo, the tips of his fingers play along that bent corner and trace down the length of the photo itself. The coppery red curls that his youngest child shares are brushed at, before his hand falls. "You shouldn't have taken the risk." The words are gruff and thick with emotions that clearly say Thank you. "I miss her, but I'm glad she wasn't here to see this." If their marriage hadn't been broken before then, the events of the last few days may very well have.
"It would have broken her heart." There is heavy guilt in those words, spoken by her father.
Delia freezes as Ben catches sight of the wall, and the picture she stole out of his room. "I couldn't leave her there. I couldn't let them have her." Tentatively, the young woman steps forward and pulls the picture off the wall. After turning it over, she carefully peels the tape from the back of it and passes it to him silently. There's a grim set to her jaw and a downcast to her eyes. "I should have tried to pack more… but I remembered that when people's houses catch on fire, they miss the pictures the most."
Tucking her fingers into the pockets of her ratty old jeans, a rather worried countenance sweeps over her at his words. "No, she would've been right here with us. I know she would have just been happy that we got out." Rocking back and forth on the balls and heels of her feet, his youngest's same blue eyes sweep over all of them until they pause at an old family photo. "Dad, do you think Rebel warned Lu too?"
The picture is taken gently without hesitation, fingers hold it as if some delicate thing. There is no doubt the photo of Mary is precious too him. The picture may be of her in her 50's, looking old enough to be his mother, but that's not what he sees. He sees the woman he married.
"I don't know. He said the message went through, but wasn't sure it got to her." The words a softly spoken, gravelly in some ways. Benjamin finally looks at his youngest again, "But Noah assured me the Ferrymen are watching the flights ready to sweep her out from under the Government's nose."
"You did fine, Lia. This is more then you should have, but…" Blue eyes sweep over the wall again, his face nearly unreadable again. "I'm glad you did."
Turning away from the photos, Mary's still clutched in his fingers, Ryans surveys the somewhat empty apartment. "Life for us is going to be different. We are fugitives now. All of us. It's… a blessing that the Ferrymen would take us in at all. Considering, who I am…" Stops and amends "Who I was." It's said with a heavy sigh.
"It's because you're one of the good guys, Dad, everyone says so." There's a hint of pride in the young woman's voice, something Ben hasn't heard for months, at least not from her lips. There's a small smile too before she steps forward and wraps her arms around his upper torso in a bear hug. Having his arms pinned to his sides might be alarming except for the fact she and he both know that he's much stronger than she is. "Love you dad, I'm glad you're okay."
One of the other movers steps in with a few boxes of put-it-together-yourself furniture. The awkward boxes shift and slide, causing a little 'Ooh!' from the person carrying it. This jolts Delia away from her dad and quickly she skids across the bare floor to help. "Bookshelf! Sweet!" Her mind is simply reeling with all of the romance novels she's going to load it with.
Benjamin Ryans watches his daughter scurry off to help, a small smile on his lips. It slowly slides away though as darker thoughts start to crowd in. Doubts and worries, seep in to taint a happy moment. Lips press into a fine line, and he's quiet for a moment. Turning, Ryans moves to tuck Mary's picture back on the wall. "Keep watch over them, Mary. Cause this is far from over." Blue eyes linger over the photo, before he takes a few steps back.
"Lia… I'm going back out to help." Ryans can find some solace in the fact he has at least one of his daughters safe. He just hopes the Ferrymen are successful in getting Lucille safe as well.