Knives Out [Lucas, Aristide] [RATED R]

[Aspen Turner]

 Aspen leaned against the doorframe of the Hollow, watching Lucas as he walked outside to smoke a cigarette. It was cold and raining, but neither of them seemed to mind. Usually, at this point, Aspen was so laced out on pills she didn't feel the cold, and Lucas - he didn't feel anything, at all. "What do you think you'd do if you could control your power? Or just didn't have it at all?" she asked. She'd never asked him that before - she'd asked him lots of questions, and he'd asked her the same as well, but this one she'd avoided. They'd become close - enough, he was closer to her than she was to anyone else - he... tolerated her.

Luke narrowed his eyes at her, side-stepping a hole in the awning that caused a steady dribble of water to splash off of his head. Fucking disgusting shitwater, he didn't want it in his hair. "Why?" he demanded, his gravely voice low. He was always suspicious of her questions, but Aspen had never done anything to make him think she was trying to fuck him over. He knew, too; he'd touched her glass once or twice when she'd gotten up to go to the bathroom. He hated what he saw, too, but what he saw didn't have any part to do with him.

Did that make him any less paranoid?  Hell no.  He'd only lived as long as he had through paranoia, as far as he could tell, and he wasn't about to screw that all up just because a cute girl wanted to get all philosophical with him.  Considering he couldn't even touch her without knowing way too much about her past, present and future (more than he already knew, which was why he made it a point not to ever make skin contact), it wasn't like she had any truly serious draw for him.

She shrugged, stepping out further and letting the door shut behind her. She folded her arms tightly to her chest and studied him with her large brown eyes. "Come on," she said, tilting her head and giving him a doubtful look. She plainly was fishing for an answer and hoping to goad him into it by making fun of him.

Lucas didn't buy it. "I don't like this line of questioning," he told her honestly, his brow furrowing. He flicked a cigarette at her feet, to which she uttered a small cry and stepped back. "So drop it, Disney," he warned. He'd taken to calling her Disney, lately - said she looked like Belle, from Beauty and the Beast, and wasn't that ironic?  It wasn't hard for him to imagine himself the beast in that equation sometimes, though they both knew that she had a much more beastly counterpart looking for her out there.  What really made Luke laugh, again in an ironic way instead of a truly funny manner, was that Jericho was handsome and it was the internal that was rotted and twisted; wasn't it supposed to be the opposite in that story? 

How sad for Aspen, that both of her potential "beasts" were rotted away inside?  She didn't look like she was getting her happy ending anytime soon.  Luke didn't believe in them.

"You're such an asshole," she replied, tongue sharp but tone smooth. She didn't seem phased by the embers burning at her feet. He hadn't hit her, which was all that mattered. She watched him make a loud noise that sounded like laughter without the slightest trace of mirth and wave her off, and she stayed where she was. She'd hit a wall with him - couldn't get any closer. There was a reason for that, she knew, and honestly it was just as well: he was a selfish, abusive asshole. Aspen just avoided most of the fallout because she was as fucked up as he was, in the end.

He turned over his shoulder and held his hands out impatiently after a moment, that unpleasant smile still in place.  He knew he was an asshole, and he didn't care. "Are you coming?" he demanded. He waited for a split second until she pushed off of the wall, and then turned back in the direction he'd been going. The routine was that he walked her to her apartment, but it was only because she gave him her prescription pills that she didn't need.  Any actual gentlemanly concern was washed away in the knowledge of the reward at the end of the road, though he didn't dare let Aspen know just how much of a reward it was. 

She thought that the pills got him high, and they did, but there was a reason he wasted time with her for them instead of working angles to get his other fixes; the pills knocked him out.  Aspen was actually putting him on a dangerous road at that point, showing him how pills could silence everything, and it was because of her that he'd gotten a few nights of pure, medicated, uninterrupted sleep. 

If he'd dreamed, he didn't remember it, and that was more valuable to him than anyone else could possibly understand right then.

She followed him dutifully, silently, and in the end gave him the pills he wanted and went to bed. She knew he was going home to shoot up, and he'd be off the grid for a few days. Aspen lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling. She skipped taking her sleeping pills, only because it didn't stop the dreams, just dulled them out some. She wondered why she hung around Lucas so much, mainly. Probably because they were both damaged goods, but she just hated that he suffered so much. She ignored all of the warnings people had given her about him simply because she knew what it was like to have something overwhelming and uncontrollable infiltrating your entire life and ruining it.

She got up around four AM and put on some suitable clothes, and then went back into town. She managed to catch Darren as he left the Hollow, and reached out to grab his arm. He had a habit of walking right by her, which was good - Aspen was beautiful, but if Darren didn't notice her, other people surely wouldn't.

"Paris works for Aristide, right?" she asked.

"Well, yeah," he said, arching his brow at her. Aspen had always been quiet, but he hadn't realized that she paid as much attention as she did. Paris came into the Hollow rarely. Of course, nobody really gave him any credit for just how much attention he paid his surroundings, since he'd noticed more about Aspen than she thought.  Between Andrew, Connor and Victor's attempts, Darren didn't go anywhere without paying serious attention to everyone and everything around him.  He just didn't see Aspen as a threat, usually.  When she got to asking questions about Aristide and Paris, however, that changed.  "Why?"

Aspen bit her lower lip, something that could be considered sexy if she didn't always look so tired.

"Ah..." Darren said. He nodded slightly - Aristide dealt in a lot of business that most didn't like to talk about. He knew Aspen had problems - he'd heard she and Lucas talking, but he hated that fucker so he tried not to eavesdrop. He still didn't trust the situation, or that she was asking for Aristide, but he'd also learned that if someone was meant to get to Papa, they were going to get there.  He might as well make the road a little easier on her where he could.  "Listen, I was just headed over there to get her. She's too fucked up to drive home, so you can have a ride if you want. Aristide, I'm sure, will be up and roaming the floor."

"Thanks," she said. She got into his Corvette and leaned her head against the window, maintaining a casual conversation with him as he drove. When they arrived, Aristide was at the door to greet her, which freaked Darren out enough that he slid beyond the both of them and she saw him no further.  Just the scents surrounding the voodoo man put him on edge, so he didn't often spend time in his company, but Paris spoke highly of her boss.  Darren wouldn't dislike him without reason, but he didn't trust him.  He hoped that Aspen knew what she was getting into, but then, he'd probably be asking Paris about it later on.  That girl knew a little of everything.

"I been expectin' you a long time, child," he said. He held his hand out, putting it around her shoulders and leading her into the lounge. He walked with her, steering her to the long, dark hallway in the back. They walked for what felt like an eternity until he opened a door that seemed to materialize from out of nowhere. He led her inside and directed her to sit down on a long couch. After she sat, he walked to a large regal-looking chair and sat down, lowering his gaze to her.

"I see that you got lots o' problems swimmin' around your head, chere. Which in particular were you lookin' for me to tend to?" he asked, directing her right to the point.

Aspen looked at the ground for a long while, and then flicked her gaze up to him. "It's - it's not me. I mean, yes, I have problems, and you know that - obviously. But I never asked for help with Jericho," she said, choking off his name as the lump in her throat came forth. She waited until she could reel herself back in. "It's my frie- it's someone I know. He's got this power and he can't shut it off. I thought maybe you could help," she finished.

Aristide sat back in his chair, looking at her with a scrutinizing stare for a few moments. "I can help dis man, but first, I need the whole story." Aristide didn't often ask for things to which he already knew the answer, but he wanted very much to judge Aspen's reasons for her request. When she'd finished telling him everything, from beginning to end, he made a considering noise.

"Get 'im down here. You'll need to clean him up, then I'll oblige you - for three days. If he ain't as nasty as a rattlesnake when that's done, we can do business. Expect that I will want somethin' from you in the meantime, though, chere. You're like family so I won't be needin' it soon, but those dreams you have - I'll need those, one day, and you'll give 'em to me. Understand?"

"Yes, yes," she sputtered. She nodded and got up, practically running from the room. She took a taxi home, and jumped back into bed. The sun had come up, which meant Jericho was probably resting, and it was safe to sleep for a day or two. She'd need as much rest as she could manage in order to get Lucas down to the lounge. It wouldn't be easy, but she thought she could pull it off. She'd just have to... make him hate her first.

[Aspen Turner]

 Aspen had finally figured out how to do it. She'd bribed him. Drugs and money went a long way - and she'd allowed him to dope himself up so much that he was hardly aware of what was happening at all. She had to lead him by the hand part of the way, but he had those gloves on, so he didn't protest too much. When they got to the Lounge was when he realized something was wrong, but by then he was so far gone that he couldn't fight her back. Aspen, with the help of Seth, the bartender, got him into a room Aristide had cleansed. And they locked him there. He had stumbled to the bed almost instantly and passed right out, but she knew that when he woke up, he'd expect her to let him back out again.

She sat by the door, knees drawn up to her chest, and closed her eyes. Aristide had given them the luxury of privacy, which was good, because she actually dosed on and off for a few hours at a time, waiting for Lucas to come out of it.

Whatever Aspen had given him was good, good shit, just like he'd come to expect from her. He felt like he was walking on clouds the whole way to the bar she was talking about. When she'd rolled into the Lounge, he hadn't wanted to stay - that place gave him the creeps, and that Aristide fucker had his hand in everything metaphysical that he could. Lucas didn't want to be a part of it. But she'd convinced him by throwing more money down on the offer, and Lucas thought it was a little odd, but he was blasted so he didn't question it. Aspen was rich, let her spend it on him. He wouldn't stop her.

...then he'd been put in a room to lay down. Someone had promised him a drink, but he didn't remember. The room was comfortable, and void of shit that gave him a headache when he touched it, not that he noticed it too much right then. He found a bed and he flopped down on it. He yelled at them as they left, demanding his drinks, but the door shut and he didn't remember anything else.

When he awoke, he felt horrible. He was crashing, and he needed a fix. He got up and dragged himself to the door, only to find out that it was locked. "Someone better open this mother fucker up!" he commanded. He wasted no time, but then, neither did his headache or the wave of nausea that passed over him at the lurching motion he'd made to bang on the thick door.  His stomach twisted like it might toss everything he'd ingested ever (or at least, it felt like it), but there was some surge of strength within him that kept everything down for the moment. 

Aspen awoke with a start. Her legs had gone to sleep, and she stretched them out, grimacing in pain. The door rattled at her back and she could hear Lucas screaming behind it. She winced as she stood, rounding the side of the door to the large window that shown into the room. She tapped on it, causing the blinds to come up in a flurry. Lucas was on the other side, and he was pissed.

"I don't know what you're playing at, but you'd better let me out right now," he demanded.  He was already sweating and trembling, but anger was a good cover for the fear of what he knew was coming and the weakness that was already trying to steal over him.  Anger was hot and aggressive, and it got more results than being pathetic did.

He was more mad than any time she'd ever seen him, and her eyes widened a little at his words. She shook her head though, biting her lip as she always did. "I can't." She offered no other explanation, but her gaze lingered on his, watching his intensity grow. It became so deep at one point that when he rushed the window, she took a step back, fear telegraphing on her features.

"Let. Me. Out."

She shook her head again. "I can't," she repeated. "You - you're in detox. I'm sorry."

And then she left.

Lucas didn't know how much time had passed. He'd screamed. He'd thrown furniture. He'd vomited in the bathroom that was cleverly attached to the strange bedroom he was stuck in. He'd drank his weight in water and eaten what he could find in crackers, and then he'd vomited it up again. He's pulled out a few handfuls of his hair and scratched his arms up to the point where he felt dizzy, but it didn't matter. None of it compared to the pain he was feeling. It was agonizing.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, YOU BITCH!" he screamed. He was enraged by Aspen's actions; that bitch had masqueraded around like she was his friend, but here she was, causing him MORE pain. He screamed obscenities at her, threatened her, and even described between vomiting sessions how he'd watch with pleasure as Jericho had his way with her - in great detail. He knew that she was out there, by the window, but he couldn't see her, and it pissed him off even more that she could be doing this to him and couldn't even watch it.  He called her coward, bitch, betrayer until his throat was raw and his voice too weak to scream any longer, and then he was sick between bouts of shivering, nightmares and talking in the short spurts of fitful sleep he managed.

Aspen looked up at Aristide as he came down the hall. It had been a full day. "He finally stopped screaming," she said, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and tried again. "A few hours ago. He finally passed out. He's saying... such horrible things," she said, her voice breaking into a sob.

"Now, chere, ain't no use cryin' for that man jus' yet. He won't mean what he says when this is over. I promise," he said. He held his hand out to her and helped her up, taking her to Paris to get cleaned up and fed. He walked back to the window after he was gone, looking at the blinds in their half-ripped down state. The man had thrown everything that wasn't bolted down, and he'd bled all over the floor from self-inflicted pain. Aristide remained carefully neutral with his expression, but he inwardly wondered very heavily what Aspen was on about. He was just another drug addict, like so many others Aristide has seen. His power had better be useful, or Aristide would kill him himself.

[Aspen Turner]

On the third day, Lucas woke up and he felt... fine. He stood up, still angry, but less crazy. He couldn't believe, looking back at the past few days, that he'd just gone through that much. He looked out at the window as a figure approached, and saw Aspen standing there. He walked to her, slowly, and put his hand up to the glass. She put her up, resting her palm on the glass were his was.

"Will you let me out, now?" he asked.

She hesitated, and then nodded. Then, she disappeared down the hall; when she came back, she had Aristide with her. As the door unlatched, Lucas took a step back. He'd never liked that voodoo man, but he wasn't prepared to get in his face. No, he'd take this up with Aspen as soon as they were out of earshot. He knew it was only a matter of time before he touched something and the full effect took him over; it'd be ten times worse than what he'd endured over the last few days getting clean.

Without warning, Aristide reached out and grabbed his bare hand. He let Lucas jerk around, but it didn't do him any good - the voodoo man was incredibly strong. There was a heavy hum of energy and Lucas screamed in pain, but after a brief interval, it stopped. Lucas dropped to his knees, sweat beading his brow. Aristide looked at Aspen. "It's done, chere. It's midnight - the clock starts now. Three days, and then if he wants it fixed, you come back to me."

Aspen nodded, and as soon as Aristide had left the room, she dropped down to her knees. She grabbed him by his hands, holding them tightly. "Please don't hate me," she sputtered. "I had to - it was the only way that he'd do it!" She clamped her hands down, forcing him not to be able to wrestle away from her. "PLEASE just stop for one second!" she yelled. Aspen raising her voice was so rare that he stopped.

Aspen was out of her mind. After whatever the Haitian kook had done to him, he sure as fuck didn't want her touching him - she was super-fucked up in the head, and he didn't want to see it. When she fought him on it, he wanted to hurt her, but her hands were so frail he was afraid he'd break them, and he didn't want to actually hurt her. Not at the moment, anyways. When he realized that he didn't feel anything - no read, no pain, no memories - he actually pushed out with his power. What he felt, though, was dead space. It was nothing. It was like the power was just gone.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" he demanded.

"It's just for three days," she said quickly. She gave him a bare-bones version of what had happened, leaving the details of her arrangement out. When she stopped explaining, he was just staring at her with this expression on his face. "Lucas... Luke, what?" she asked.

"Why? What do I have to do?" he asked. He was suspicious.

"Nothing. Nothing, it's all taken care of. It's just... three days. No power, but they're going to come back after that. I just... wanted to help," she said, voice falling flat.

"But WHY, Aspen?" he demanded.

Aspen didn't answer him right away, but when she did, it wasn't verbally. She dove in so quickly that he didn't have a chance to block her - and anyways, she still had his hands in her own, something he didn't realize until he tried to stop her from leaning in. The feeling of her small hands in his own rough ones was a different sensation, a new one. It was foreign to him, given how long he'd worked so hard at avoiding contact. When she kissed him he didn't know what to do at first, he was so stunned. It caused her to pull back after their lips met. She stammered an apology, but he finally untangled his fingers from hers and took control.

He placed his hands on either side of her face, rocking forward and catching her full lips with his own. He couldn't remember the last kiss he'd ever had, but it didn't matter - there was a beautiful, young and vibrant woman sitting in front of him that had no doubt put her ass on the line to try and make his life better, while hers was steadily getting worse. And now he could touch her without wanting to scratch his own eyes out. It was... he didn't know. He kissed her with passion he didn't knew he had, years of repression and anger turning into just physical attraction and the ability to do something about it.

"Lucas... Lucas... " she breathed. She tried to pull away two or three times before she was able to, and when she did, his hands were at her waist and roaming up. "Stop," she said, putting her hands on his to cease his attention. "Let's go back to my apartment," she said, standing up and offering him a hand.