betterthanaplan | Haven, Maine, Saturday Fandom time (Reply)

It had continued to be a hectic week after they found the silver box in the basement of Rassmussen House. Duke had dragged Octavia with him to a fake catering gig to try and grill the grand dame of one of Haven's oldest families on the box's origins, which had resulted in them having to hide in a barn from rampaging vines fueled by a family feud. Then Audrey had pressganged Duke into entertaining Chris Brody for the morning while she went to deal with another trouble, which had originally been fun -- Duke had loved getting to show off his waffle making skills for someone like Chris Brody -- but ended up feeling kind of creepy, when Nathan finally told him about Chris's charm trouble. Apparently everyone loved Chris on sight except Audrey. Which at least meant that Chris could date Audrey without having to worry about magically roofying her, but still. . . .

Creepy.

Today was looking to be quiet, though. With Audrey off at work and the bar hours from opening, the Gull was a nice and private space for Duke and Octavia to hang out. One with a much larger, better equipped kitchen than Duke could fit onto even a boat the size of the Rouge.

Even if it was only really set up for bar snacks.

"Fresh nachos," he said as he set a platter down in front of Octavia. "Piping hot. And a mudslide to go with it." A milkshake glass full of alcoholic goodness joined the platter, and Duke slid into the chair across from her. "Have I mentioned lately how lucky I am that you put up with me?"

Octavia	"I could stand to hear it again," Octavia rasped, a little dryly, as she reached for the glass. "Especially since Haven can't make amends."
Duke	“I am the luckiest jackass around,” Duke said obediently. “In this one particular area at least.”
Octavia	Octavia nodded, barely. Then, taking a sip from her glass, and savoring it for a little moment, she cast a glance around the room. "At least it's quiet here." They probably needed this.
Duke	"Quiet in the mornings," Duke said. "Loud at night. It's . . . actually making a crazy amount of money, considering it's only been open for a few months."
Octavia	Octavia gave him a dry look - but with exactly zero bite. "And that's... good, right?" Octavia and money, it was a thing.
Duke and Evi	"It's good," Duke confirmed. "It's . . . one of the few things up here I don't have to worry about." He saw movement on the front decking and sat up a little straighter. "Speaking of the things I do have to worry about. Go away, Evi." Evi stepped into the doorway, her hands tucked deep in her pockets, her mouth for once not tilted up in her customary smirk. "I just want to talk, Duke."
Octavia	Octavia noted the lack of a smirk. Somehow, that set her a little more on edge than Evi's mere sudden appearance already had. Her own expression had just grown stonier. "Don't think anyone here wants to talk to to you."
Duke and Evi	Evi ignored her, her eyes on Duke alone. She walked in. "We had something good, Duke. I know I screwed it up, but you can't tell me it wasn't good." "You're right," Duke said, scowling. "You screwed it up. And I don't really feel like giving you a chance to do it again."
Octavia	Octavia wasn't ignoring Evi back. Instead, she had her eyes fixed on. Trying to read what her angle was now.
Duke and Evi	"Duke." Evi's eyes were wet. "Please. You have no idea how important you are." Duke tensed. "Important to who?" "I don't want to do this," Evi said. "But you need to know. You need to remember." She came further into the bar, and a figure appeared in the doorway behind her. It was a teenager, their hood pulled up over their head, hiding their face. Duke stood and backed up. "Don't want to do what?"
Octavia	Yeah, Octavia was on her feet about the same time Duke was. "Who's that?" she demanded. "Evi, what did you do?"
Evi and A Troubled Teen	"Remember," Evi said, eyes still on Duke, tears now dripping down her face. "Okay? Remember what we were." The teenager dropped their hood and looked up. Evi kept her back firmly turned as the teen swept their gaze towards Duke. They made eye contact with Octavia first. Evi didn't understand, she didn't know how their trouble worked. She had no idea that Octavia's subconscious could end up running this show, no matter how hard she tried to direct Duke to think of them.
Octavia	Octavia made eye contact. And the next thing she knew, it was as if the floor had shifted out from underneath her, and she was suddenly flat on her back on it. Big, ugly stains of dried blood formed a pair of grotesque wings at her shoulders. But she didn't see those. She was looking up towards the ceiling, up towards the stands. Up towards where the throne sat empty and abandoned. This was the bunker, and she was laying in the middle of the fighting pit. The shock of that practically took her breath away.
Duke	Duke did. Duke saw them bright and clear. He was up in the stands, wondering where they were, wondering where the Gull had gone. "Dammit, Evi," he said, soft as a breath. "What did you do?"
Octavia	Octavia didn't notice the bulky chain around one of her ankles before she turned her head and saw it bolted to the floor. Maybe it hadn't even been there before she noticed? She yanked on the chain, then bolted upright at the all too familiar sound of the door into the pit opening. At first, she could only see a figure doused in red light. "What do you want?" she snapped. Then, more desperate, more panicked, as the figure approached and she still couldn't tell who it was, "Leave me alone!"
Duke	Duke grabbed the blood coated chain-link that separated the stands from the pit. He couldn't see any way down there to help her, and something, some creeping, instinctual terror, kept him from shouting. "Tavi," he said, much too softly. "Tavi, what's happening?!"
Octavia and Pike	It didn't look like Octavia heard him. She was staring towards the door as it closed again - and then a blink later, the figure was no longer in the doorway, but rather crouching down next to her. And it was Charles Pike. "I'm sorry I can't do that," he said. "We've got unfinished business, you and I." Octavia refused to look at him. No, no, she wouldn't do this. "Wrong, Pike," she said as she shut her eyes tightly. She sounded like she was forcing the words out through her teeth, but no longer sounded panicked. "You killed Lincoln, and you died for it. End of story."
Duke	"Get away from her," Duke whispered, then found his voice and rattled the chainlink fencing. "Get away from her!"
Octavia and Pike	"You saying that for me, Miss Blake?" Pike wondered, calm to an irritating degree, as he looked up towards the stands. And right at Duke. "Or for him?" His gaze returned to Octavia. "You think murdering someone in cold blood, even someone you have reason to hate, is justifiable?" Octavia's eyes opened. Her upward glance was hasty: like she wanted to see Duke was there but didn't want to look at him. But she didn't want to look at Pike, either. So she stared straight ahead. Her voice faltered just a little. "Yes."
Duke	"Fuck you," Duke hissed. He looked around again for an opening, some way to get down to where Octavia was. "If she killed you, you deserved it."
Octavia and Pike	There wasn't one. He would have to exit the stands and go the long way 'round to make it down to the door to the pit. And that was without getting into whether he could get the door to open for him. Pike looked up again. And smiled. "And yet," he said as he straightened up, gesturing at Octavia, still sitting on the floor, chained, "it turned her into this." "Think what you want," Octavia said, tilting her chin up, giving her head a single shake. "I'm not here to do anything with you." "No," he agreed, "you're here because of me." He was moving, beginning to leisurely circle her. "The path to the future goes through the past, Miss Blake, psychology 101! We are what we've done and what's been done to us." He paused, very briefly, as if to consider her. "Now, you've had a rough go, I'll give you that, and it's made your dark side strong." He stopped, and bent down to speak to her at her level again. "I suppose you needed that, to protect yourself under the floor." She could feel his eyes on her even though she refused to look. It was almost a relief when he straightened up again. "But what about now? Who are you now?"
Duke	"Okteivia kom Fandomkru," Duke said, voice firm. "No matter what you did to her."
Octavia and Pike	"No, Mr Crocker," Pike called up to him, looking towards him again. "That is who you think she is." Octavia closed her eyes again, trying to will this whole situation away. Trying to remember where they were before they were here. But she couldn't.
Duke	"That's who I know she is," Duke said. "You're just -- a fucked up trouble. What would you know?"
Octavia and Pike	"You so sure this is my doing?" Pike asked him, still smiling. "You think I put her here?" He shook his head, as he looked at Octavia again, the smile fading some. "What do you want, Octavia?" Octavia was holding her head between her hands. Half-whispered, "I want you gone." "Tried that," Pike retorted in a jovial tone, "didn't take. Has to be something else." "I want to know why you're here," Octavia decided, finally - and abruptly - finding her way onto her feet. Finally looking at Pike, face to face. He didn't seem entirely pleased with this development. "Maybe I'm here because I'm what you need right now," he said, all traces of a smile falling away. His voice grew louder, more aggressive. "So, stop wasting my time," he continued, jabbing a finger towards her, "and answer my damn question! What do you want?" But she couldn't find an answer. She looked away, first across the pit. Then, helplessly, up towards Duke.
Duke	All Duke could do was stare back, his fingers still hooked into the chainlink. Because he needed an answer to that question, too.
Octavia and Pike	No one needed one as badly as Octavia. No one wanted one as desperately as Octavia. It was a clawing sensation in the middle of her chest, getting worse and worse by the second and yet her mouth was empty. She looked down. "Okay," said Pike, when it became obvious she wasn't going to be saying anything. He spread his hands. "Because class is in session, allow me to facilitate discussion." he took a step towards her. Then another. And another, his voice silky, almost conspiratorially smooth, as he asked. "How does it feel to know, that... everyone hates you?" Exhaling an unsteady breath, Octavia turned away from him. That just meant he stepped up behind her. Leaned closer to her ear. "Everyone you care about," he said. "Even your brother. And that the ones that don't, yet..." Here, he glanced up to the stands again, although it was only a brief look. "They will, too." She swallowed. It was an attempt to swallow down a lot more than just the lump in her throat. "Not good." "No, I expect not," Pike agreed. "But that's not the worst part, is it?" he asked, and she could feel the tremble start in her bottom lip, only it felt like it was in her whole body, and she didn't want him to say what she knew he was about to say -- "You hate yourself, too." Tears rolled down onto her cheeks. And all he said to that was a soft and quiet, "Good." He let her sob for a moment, just let her stew in her crushing self-loathing, the weight of everything. And then he stepped closer again. "One more time," he whispered. It sounded like thunder in her ears. "What do you want?" Something in her was breaking. She looked up - all the way up towards the ceiling, this time. It was intact, and there would be no brother rappeling to her rescue, this time. The word seemed to force its way out, all the way from down in her lungs. "Forgiveness." And yet she could immediately tell it wasn't good enough. "Deeper," Pike said. "Much, much deeper." But she didn't think there was any deeper she could go. This already felt like blood in her mouth, like a wound wrenched open, and yet Pike stepped away from her.
Duke	Duke clung to the chainlink so hard it felt like it would slice into his fingers. He wanted to tear it down, but the blood on it wasn't fresh enough -- or maybe real enough -- to set off his trouble. So all he could do was watch as this -- this thing tortured Octavia. Why was this happening? How did he keep ending up watching people -- his people -- confess that they hated themselves? Octavia had wings like Lucifer, painted there on the floor, would she sprout horns, too? "Stop it," he said, then pounded on the fencing and screamed it. "Stop it! Octavia! Ai gona, haiplana, don't listen to him!"
Octavia and Pike	It was an odd feeling: Octavia both heard him and didn't hear him. His voice felt like an echo. It didn't feel real. Nothing did, except the pit. Pike began circling her again, his voice growing louder. And she stood in the middle of his circle, slowly turning to stay face to face with him, even though she didn't want to even hear this because there was nothing she could say. Her throat felt like it was closing up, but Pike was speaking enough for the both of them. "Forgiveness is for minor offenses," he pointed out. Then pointed a finger at her. Every word more agitated than the last. "You -- murdered people to get them to eat their friends and families. And then you burned the farm, to get them to march, because you couldn't live with the idea of not getting to the valley. Even when there was another way. You got four hundred people killed in that gorge!" His anger grew to a crescendo. "You caused the world to be destroyed!
Duke	Duke couldn’t breathe. He didn’t notice when he let go of the fencing and backed up, not until he hit the wall. He didn’t hear half of what Pike was saying over the roaring in his ears. Over the words “you murdered people to get them to eat their friends and family” repeating over and over in his head.
Octavia and Pike	And down in the pit, Pike was still accosting Octavia. "What you want needs to be earned," he bellowed. "Now say it!" His voice echoed off the steel walls, and it felt like it was pushing down on Octavia, forcing her to bend, her hands braced against her thighs. Forgiveness wasn't good enough. "Redemption," she whispered. "What's that? I can't hear you." "Redemption!" she wailed. An invisible crowd cheered as Pike threw his hands up. "Ding ding ding!" he called, then pointed at her again. "A gold star for Miss Blake." This all felt like physical effort, and Octavia was panting when he took one step closer again. "I was trying to earn mine when you put a sword through me," he said. "Which brings us to big question number two. What are you willing to do to get it?" Octavia straightened up, slowly. Drew in another shallow, shuddery breath. "What if I don't deserve it?" Pike scoffed. "Deserve's got nothing to do with it." Before he could say anything else, another voice rang through the pit. Resolute, dark: "Shut up, Pike." Octavia's, only not. Pike exhaled a deep, frustrated, resigned sigh. A sword fell from nowhere and landed by Octavia's feet, clattering against the floor. The chain around her ankle vanished, and shackles appeared around Pike's wrists. A signal sounded. The door was opening again.
Duke	What was happening? Duke didn’t remember moving, but he was back at the fencing, staring down into the pit. He didn’t want to watch. He didn’t want to know any of this. He couldn’t look away. “Octavia,” he whispered. He couldn’t call her Tavi anymore. “Please.”
Octavia and Pike and *Blodreina*	Octavia stared at the door. And then she gasped as Blodreina swept in, in full armor. Her face was covered in solid red warpaint from her eyes to her hairline, and a red velvet cape hung from her shoulders, dragging behind her. Both were the color of the stains on the floor. Octavia could only stare at her as she came to a stop by them, in the middle of the pit. Blodreina eyed Pike, then turned her merciless gaze on Octavia. "Pick up the sword," she said, her voice cold and definite, not to be questioned, "and strike him down." Octavia looked helplessly from her down to the sword, then hazarded a quick look up at Pike. Her hesitation did not seem to please her doppelgänger in red and black, although the shift to a sharper tone was subtle. "Do what you know has to be done."
Duke	Duke knew that tone. He knew a softer version of it, a version with something playful behind it. Haiplana. There was nothing soft or playful about this woman. This was the Octavia who led her people to war. This was the Octavia that his Tavi had wanted to die to get away from. He was going to be sick. He still couldn’t look away.
Octavia and Pike and *Blodreina*	"Here we go again," Pike said, shaking his head, sounding almost wry. "Doing the same thing and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity." He leaned towards Octavia. "Einstein said that." "And I say," Blodreina said, as she began to circle them, "you are Wonkru, or you are the enemy of Wonkru." She drew her sword from her hip. "Choose!" It sent Octavia scurrying out of the way like a startled, terrified animal. She ended up huddling several feet away, half kneeling on the floor. Blodreina had her sword just inches away from Pike's face. And he was still calmly looking down at Octavia. "I'll ask you again," he said. "Who are you now, Miss Blake? Your brother's sister... or the monster who would've watched him die in this very arena?" Octavia curled up further into a ball, so tight her forehead touched her bent knee, her hands on either side of her head. She wasn't looking up. In fact, her eyes were shut tightly again. "I'm not afraid," she muttered, but her voice wavered. "I'm not afraid --" "Yes you are," Blodreina snapped, "you always have been." Her voice was all raspy disgust, and her eyes held nothing but scorn. "My God, you're pathetic." Then her gaze flicked back to Pike, her tone lightening to a taunt as she tilted her head just a fraction. "I guess she needs me after all."
Duke	you are Wonkru or you are the enemy of Wonkru you murdered people to make them eat their friends and family Everything that had happened since July was fitting together in Duke’s head. The nightmares. The way she and Lucifer had bonded. Her terror that Duke would see inside her head. “Stop it.” He couldn’t raise his voice above a whisper. Couldn’t draw Blodreina‘s attention. you are Wonkru or you are the enemy of Wonkru Duke’s father was a serial killer. His lover was a tyrant. Choose!
Octavia and Pike and *Blodreina*	Meanwhile, Octavia was just rocking herself back and forth, still holding on to her mantra. Feeling small and powerless, and trying to disappear into herself. But her head snapped up when Blodreina spoke again. "Charles Pike of Farm Station," Blodreina barked, "you have been sentenced to death in accordance with the law of Wonkru." Oh. Octavia knew what this was. "Any last words?" "Not for you." Pike turned to look at Octavia. His tone went softer. "Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim," he said, and God, for a second she could have sworn she heard someone else say it with him. And something inside her suddenly fit together. The pain didn't subside, or grow weaker, but it gained a form, something she could grasp. She found herself smiling. It was sad and weak, but Pike returned it. Finally, they understood each other. And when Blodreina pulled her sword back for the killing blow, she found Octavia back on her feet, blocking the strike with hers.
Duke	you have been sentenced to death in accordance with the law of Wonkru Octavia had mentioned the fighting pits to him before. Had told him she'd dreamed of him in there, his trouble active, while she'd been in the bunker. He'd never entirely understood it before, though. The pit was the executions grounds. It was the slaughter house. And Octavia had ruled over it all. Duke didn't see her block Blodreina. He'd finally managed to turn away. He sat with his back pressed to the chainlink barrier, his head curled into his knees, and waited for this to be over. The fight. The execution. The trouble. This whole fucked up chapter of his life.
Octavia and *Blodreina*	"Bad choice," Blodreina said, and struck Octavia's blade aside. They ended up circling each other, Blodreina with her sword held out, Octavia with hers in a defensive stance. Pike had disappeared. It was just the two of them in the pit now. "Congratulations," Blodreina drawled. "You die instead." She unclasped her robe with one hand, let it pool on the floor right before she attacked, coming at Octavia ruthlessly, viciously, with a sense of purpose. Octavia did her best to defend herself, even getting a few decent swipes in, but Blodreina still landed a punch in her face that made her feel blood burst from her mouth. And then her attempt at blocking another killing blow ended in Blodreina yanking her arm to get her off-balance, striking her in the face with the hilt of her sword, then knocking the sword out of her hand. Unarmed, Octavia ducked under her next strike. This was the bunker, the fighting pit: there were always weapons hanging on parts of the chain link fence, ready to be used by combatants. So Octavia dove in for a spear. And then, she attacked. She landed a blow to Blodreina's stomach, first, knocking her back, followed quickly by an upward strike that knocked her head back as well. Then, with no hesitation, she thrust the spear right through Blodreina. And watched her face - her own face - look back at her in shock and disbelief, drawing her last, labored breaths. "Nou Blodreina nawe," Octavia said. Blodreina no more. The pit filled with white light, bright enough to hurt. And when it cleared, they were no longer in the bunker.
Duke and Evi	Duke saw the light -- couldn't miss it, really -- but kept his face hidden, his arms braced over his head, until he heard someone calling his name. He was in his bar. Curled against the base of the bar. Evi was in front of him, her eyes wide, hands hovering and shaking without touching. "Duke. Oh god, I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. Can you hear me? Are you okay?" Duke stared at her, then looked past her, to the teenager once again huddled in their hood, posture miserable. Looked for Octavia. Wasn't sure what he'd find. "Duke?"
Octavia	Octavia was standing a little further off, looking dazed, like she was still trying to blink away the mental whiplash. her gaze seemed more turned inward than like she was actually seeing the bar. Something in her felt like it had unclenched for the first time in years. ... She was yet to realize the full scope of what had just happened.
Duke and Evi	"Duke." Evi gave him a shaky smile. "Hey, there you are." Duke looked at her. He swallowed bile, licked his lips. His voice came out as a croak. "Get out."
Octavia	Maybe it was his voice, or maybe it was just that she'd had enough time for some of the stupor fade, but Octavia seemed to get slightly more of a hold on the present moment. Of course, that didn't mean much except that her eyes fixed on the teenager. They were the last person she remembered from before things had turned to that. It took her a few more seconds to put it together as a trouble.
Duke and Evi and A Troubled Teen	The teen was backing up, their eyes glued on the floor. "Where's my money?" they -- she? -- whispered. "Duke," Evi tried again, reaching for Duke's cheek. "Come on. I just -- I wanted you to remember how good we were." Duke jerked away and wobbled to his feet. "I can't deal with this. I can't deal with any of you." His voice rose with each word, until it became a roar. "Get out!"
Octavia	This wasn't the teen's doing. This was Evi's -- Octavia had had just enough time for her gaze to have skittered over to the other woman, and then Duke was yelling and she saw his face, and. Oh, no. She felt terror sink right through her.
Duke and Evi	The teen fled. Evi was crying. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Duke, baby. . . ." "I said leave." Duke grabbed a bottle from the bar blindly and rushed out onto the deck. Where there was open air and water and he could breathe. Evi turned to Octavia. "What did he see?!"
Octavia	Octavia stared after Duke. "Everything."
Evi	Evi looked from Octavia to the door Duke had disappeared through, and threw her hands in the air. "What the hell does that mean?!" She drifted towards the door, then jerked back and stormed out the front door instead. She couldn't take Duke shouting at her again. And if she had to look in Octavia's stupid, broken eyes again, she was going to do something rash.
Octavia	Octavia spent a long moment staring at the door. Something in her chest felt like something had been unlocked, but it couldn't distract her from the dread. She didn't remember making the decision to actually start moving, but there she was. Walking to the door. And then out onto the deck.
Duke	Duke sat in one of the chairs at the far end, nursing his bottle. Ouzo. This was what happened when you grabbed blindly. But at least the taste of licorice would help wash away the phantom taste of blood from his mouth. He didn't look up at her when she came out. Just kept staring out over the water. "I thought I said 'leave'."
Octavia	Octavia stopped dead in her tracks. How could this feel worse than everything she'd imagined? She'd had a lot of practice being cruel to herself, after all.
Duke	Duke took a long sip from the bottle. “Is it true?” he asked. “Did you force people to eat each other?”
Octavia	If Octavia had had any hope that he hadn't seen all of that... She could feel a small tremble in her hands. She balled them into fists. But she couldn't lie to him. "There was no other option," she said, quiet and helpless.
Duke	"Pretty sure you could have let people choose for themselves if they wanted to become cannibals."
Octavia	"I couldn't let a whole bunker full of people choose to die!" Octavia objected. It sounded a little too much like her wail from earlier.
Duke	"So you killed them instead?! Who even are you?!"
Octavia	Octavia really didn't know. So: "You weren't there!"
Duke	"Good thing, or you would've had to kill me, too!"
Octavia	Octavia gave a sharp gasp. The single tear that escaped felt pointless and predictable. She didn't know what to say to him.
Duke	Duke saw the tear. He turned away and chugged his ouzo. "Just go, Octavia. I can't -- just go."
Octavia	Octavia stared at his back. "Where am I supposed to go?" He was supposed to be her home, and he was casting her out. (Just like she'd been so sure he would. He was ditching her.) And Lucifer was in Hell.
Duke	"I don't care." That wasn't true. He wished it was, but it wasn't. She'd murdered people. For saying no. "You're Wonkru or you're the enemy of Wonkru, right?" Another big sip. "I'm never going to be Wonkru."
Octavia	"That's not --" That wasn't her, anymore. But her voice broke, and didn't let her finish. He'd said he didn't care.
Duke	She was still there. He could feel her behind him. His mouth still tasted like blood and ash. "Please go."
Octavia	'How I feel about you will never change.' So much for that lie, then. Octavia forced herself to walk away, out of the Gull, off his property. She didn't feel like she was going to stop walking any time soon.
Duke	Duke waited until he couldn’t hear her footsteps anymore. Then he let out a growl and hurled the bottle of ouzo at the side to the Gull. He slumped in his chair, head in his hands, and stayed there until the first of his staff arrived for the afternoon shift.