You Can Stay


brian6_icon.gif koshka_icon.gif samara2_icon.gif

Scene Title You Can Stay
Synopsis Plans to bring two of the Lighthouse Kids back to Bay House change when Samara and Koshka actually get to Brian's apartment.
Date March 1, 2011

Confucius Plaza:Brian's Apartment.

The drive to Chinatown had been silent. Samara has never liked driving, but then she never passed her driver's exam. Not in her short lifetime. Silent steps drew her upstairs to Brian's apartment only to pause outside the door. She could walk through, enter without so much as a warning, but somehow that seems like the kind of behaviour that would get her shot. Getting shot isn't on her list of things to do; getting burned was bad enough. On the other hand, Koshka had been insistent on coming, leaving Sam to groan about it. And become a bearer of arms. Brian's gun— that she'd found in the bottom of one of their drawers— was lovingly tucked into the pocket of her black hoodie along with a hand for easy access. He'd taught her to shoot, not that she intends to use it, but… with a kid along? There didn't seem to be much choice.

There's still that numbness about her. There'd been no time for tears on her way here, not with this goal in mind: make sure the babies are safe. Not that she'd know anything about caring for babies. On her walk up the stairs it had actually occurred to her she had no easy way of getting them home— she'd have to buy carseats or something on the way back.

The keys she bears are raised to the lock with a quick jingle. The deadbolt unlocks slowly, a quiet pronouncement that someone is coming in— someone who has keys to the apartment.

"Hello?" she calls out. The musical lilt to her voice is preserved despite her best efforts to keep it even.

The more real going to find the babies had become, the closer to actually leaving to claim them, the more Koshka seemed to pick up on Sam's mood. Staying quiet during the ride over was embraced, welcomed, eyes wary and watchful of everything they passed. She'd never done anything like this personally, the last efforts had been of her own escape, but she'd insisted on going with. Two sets of eyes, two heads, were better than one. And with one Brian acting strangely, it was better to stick together.

Keeping close to Sam's shoulder, Koshka follows closely behind. She keeps a watch while the door is opened, all thoughts and concerns put aside for watchfulness. Once the door has been opened, the teenager cranes her neck to peer into the apartment, lifting slightly onto her toes for a better view.

Wake up maggie, I think I got somethin' to say to you~

The music plays lightly from the laptop Brian found. Luckily it was a mac. With no password. Whew. If there was a password the current occupant of the apartment would be out of luck. But the young man eventually found his way around the apartment that he magically woke up in. When the door opens, Samara and Koshka will find the apartment in slight disarray. Dishes pile up in the sink as they never had in either Samara or Koshka's time in staying here. Brian always did the dishes with at least one of him. And always cleaned up. There is nothing clean about the apartment. It isn't chaos, but there is a slight odor of food that has been left out.

An empty popcorn bag rests on the coffee table. Ted has been removed from the wall and lays on the kitchen table. A screwdriver resting by his head. Apparently the present occupant was interested in the decapitated robot head. The OTHERS board has been left alone mostly.

The door to the Master bedroom is slightly ajar. And there is no sound of coming in from there. But the microwave is currently cooking something. With one minute left on the timer. Someone is most definitely here. If they hear the entering figures, there is no sign of it.

"Hello?" Sam calls out again. The memory of the morning plays fresh in her own mind. Her fingers curl tighter over her concealed weapon as she slides towards the master bedroom; it's a space she knows well. Her eyebrow is quirked at Ted— taking him apart didn't seem high on Brian's to-do list. It's unsettling. In light of everything it's unsettling. "Brian?" she calls quietly before motioning for Koshka to remain at the front door. She'd never told the teen what had happened, but it was enough to keep her from being too haphazard.

Her fingers curl around the door and she draws the door open very slowly.

"Ew," Koshka mutters, nose wrinkling over the smell of old food and unwashed dishes. She follows Samara inside, so far as the living room. She looks over the controlled chaos, the clutter and left over food. Even poor Ted, a screw driver seems blasphemous even if the robot is a source of evil in and of itself. Her eyes trail over the remnants of life, briefly, then lift to Samara's form at the master bedroom.

At the 'hello' there is a moment of quiet until a sudden flushing noise. And then a door being flung open, and then a pause. Then the sink being thrown on quickly and then off. A sound of movement, someone hastily grabbing something. Then there's a long silence. Slow creaking of the floorboards sounding out as someone quietly walking from the bathroom. Samara could view the cribs, the babies currently sleeping.

And then door whips open, the first thing coming into view? A plunger. Brandished in front of Samara, Brian waves the plunger around in front of Samara. Hey, it's better than a gun. But when his eyes fall on Samara and then Koshka. Girls. Young girls. The plunger starts to falter some, his eyes going a little wide. He has more growth on his face than Samara has ever seen. A whole lot of facial hair. Looking as if he hasn't shaved for a few days. He wears a t-shirt and shorts. Apparently the no-shirt rule hasbeen abolished. He arches his brows slowly. "Hi?"

The shock written across Sam's face at the plunger registers in both widened eyes and a gaped mouth. An instinctive fighter might have drawn the gun or pointed it at her would-be assailant. Samara Dunham isn't a fighter by nature, and when faced against her fiancee raising a gun merely feels wrong. In fact as it's brandished towards her, she phases out becoming incorporeal into a million little pieces. When the plunger is lowered her body becomes corporeal, and her mouth gapes open again.

The greeting has her paling again. "Brian?" she asks almost like she doesn't recognize him. Her lips press together finally as she blinks harder. "Emily and Kasha are okay?" her eyebrows knit together tightly as she eyes the scruff that lines his face.

The sudden appearance of Brian wielding a plunger and Samara's own reaction startles Koshka. Another time she might have laughed at the absurdity. Now, she's slowly creeping closer to Sam, eyes watching Brian as though expecting him to sprout two heads.

The plunger hesitates, his lips purse for a moment. At the question he raises his brows. They know his name. And they know the names of apparently the children he has been looking after. He narrows his eyes ever so slightly. "I.." He starts, taking a slight backward step. Ummm. "Sorry." He lets out. Bringing his hands up, the plunger is held onto tightly for a moment before dropping it back down.

"Do I know you?" He tilts his head lightly to the side. "How do you know my name, if you don't mind me asking?" Brian asks.

Sami slides a single step back, her head turning to face Koshka for a moment. Her eyes narrow slightly in return as her fingers curl around the concealed gun again, still sure she's going to end up with a gun pressed to her temple. Another step has her sliding backwards and raising her chin to meet his gaze.

The memory of the other Brian's reaction to her is enough for her to play her hand close. "How did you get here?" at least this one isn't blaming her like some kind of seductress.

Koshka hesitates at meeting Sam's gaze, but doesn't retreat. Instead she offers the woman a small, subtle nod, a tiny measure of support. They're here for the babies, and everything is going to work out. Chin lifting a little, taking strides to conceal her own nervousness and appear far more confident than she feels, the teenager settles a look on Brian.

"I'm.." He narrows his eyes a little but they eventually soften. In this time of life, he was a lot more trusting. A lot more naive. The plunger is slowly lowered to the ground. Straightening back up the unshaven gives a slightly confused look. "Ahm. I don't know?" He gives a little shrug. "Was sleeping in my car. And I woke up in here." He figured it was God's manifested will. But he won't say that. It tends to alienate people.

"Is this.. Is this your place?" Brian asks, giving a slightly nervous look from Samara and back down to Koshka. No it can't be their place, there has been no one here for days. And there are children. "I've been taking care of the children.. what did you say their names were?"

"No," Sam shakes her head. It was home for awhile, but as of today she's feeling alienated from it, much like she's been feeling about her own room at the Bay House. There's no signs of recognition on Brian's face, not for either of them. Her eyes turn towards the crib quickly. "It's my fiancee's." She swallows hard. "He disappeared," she whispers, the emotion catching along the edges of her throat in a tightness that strains every part of her body.

"Their names. Emily and Kasha. Kasha's the younger." There's a pause as she cranes her neck towards the crib, "Can.. can I?" her chin lifts towards the interior of the room. Checking on them would be helpful.

"We'd like to see them," Koshka adds in quietly, one hand lifting to touch Sam on the arm. Another small measure of support, letting the woman know she's not doing this alone. "Please. It would help." The other hand reaches forward to point at the plunger, dangerous weapon that it is. "Would you… we're not here to hurt your or anything. We just… Um…"

"Oh." Brian starts giving her a sort of sad frown. "Well I'm sorry. Have you called the police? Do you need help putting up posters or something?" He decides not to ask why he is in her fiancee's apartment. God has a will. And maybe he is supposed to have some connection with this guy. "Emily and Kasha." Brian murmurs, smiling sadly. He takes a step back, allowing them to enter. Going to set the plunger down on the ground. He brings up his arms to fold up over his chest. "I've been looking on the internet. On how to do things right." He offers, smiling hopefully.

"Thanks," Sam manages to just tighten her lips into a non-smile, not even remotely as she steps over to the sleeping babies. Over her shoulder, she shakes her shoulder a little, "And we've got it under control," she nearly squeaks. There's nothing under control about this. Carefully she draws Kasha from the crib first. She'd held Kasha only a week ago. The first baby she'd held in ages. "I'm sorry sweetie~" the musical lilt reserved for children permeates her tone as she holds the baby closer to her. "I'm sorry," she virtually whispers.

Ducking her head into a small nod that echoes Samara's thanks, Koshka follows after Sam. She glances up to the sleepy-head Kasha and then peeks into Emily's crib. Looking almost as though about to ask what to do, she gives shrug instead, then starts collecting baby things. No need to ask permission, just start gathering the things needed for the two.

"So.. These are your kids?" He's asking Samara. Glancing to Koshka. Probably her little sister. He starts to open his mouth. Then it closes. "Umm. Excuse me? How did you know my name?" Brian goes to sit on the edge of the bed. Watching Koshka quietly. "Are you taking them? Umm.. Am I.." He furrows his brows. It's her fiancee's apartment so.. "Do I stay here?"

The question is just enough to cause her eyes to well with tears. Wordlessly, nearly pained she shrugs her shoulders a little. Are they her kids? They aren't not her kids. With a loud sniffle, indicative of her current state of being, particularly with the distance she plants a soft kiss atop Kasha's head. She whispers again, "They're orphans." Again, she nearly chokes on the words. The question about his name has her eyebrows furrowing, "I didn't. Brian is my fiancee's name.. he's been… " her lips are pressed together tightly as a single tear streaks down her cheeks. "And.. yes. Stay. It's.." she shrugs a little.

A bag of some sorts is located, and finds itself being stuffed with diapers and blankets and clothing, anything that looks like it belongs to the babies. The cribs are probably going to have to stay, for now, it's going to be tricky as it is getting the little ones downstairs and outside. Shouldering the bag, Koshka gently gathers up Emily. A little awkward in cradling the girl, covering her to keep the chill off. "We should go now, Sami," she says softly.

Brian takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "Oh." He lets out quietly. This is sad. He's not sure why, but they seem very sad. He remains quiet for a long time. Just stay. And do what? He doesn't ask. She seems hurt. "Um. Do you know.. Uh.. Maybe your fiancee brought me in here? Do you know why he wanted me to come here? Like.. What do I do?" He asks weakly. Glancing to Koshka then to Samara.

Whether he remembers her or not, Sam's heart melts at his questions. She glances down at each of the babies before she nods slightly. "Kasha and Emily will stay," she squeaks quietly as she casts a glance to Koshka. This version of Brian is harmless. He didn't keep his threatening pose with the plunger or anything. "And you.. can… " she gently returns Kasha to the crib. "We should go. I'll.. be .. " back to check on him. Soon. The numbness has faded. "I need to— " her head turns to the door. What she wouldn't give to be invisible right now.

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