Topic: Kanashimi

Dominic Granger

Date: 2011-06-10 14:03 EST
((Links with Kan-yu.))

Almost home. The words reverberated around Dominic's unfeeling mind as he drove his battered Jeep around past the walls of Rhy'Din city. He had no need to drive through Rhy'Din, not today. His destination was graven in his mind - Maple Grove, and answers more satisfying than the brief message he had received only days ago.

Had it truly only been two days ago' The courier who had brought the message had travelled the standard journey, taking three days to deliver his bombshell of grief and pain to the professor. Dominic, by contrast, had taken a faster route, refusing to sleep until it became absolutely necessary, cutting hours from his journey. He would not be expected until tomorrow at the earliest, but he had to know.

He had to know what had happened.

The message, written in the familiar rounded hand of his cousin, Caroline, was still crumpled in his back pocket. It didn't need to be there. Dominic had read it so many times that first day of travelling that the words were engraved on his heart and mind, each memory of them like a knife stabbing into him.

Dom,

You need to come home. I have no words to say how sorry I am to have to tell you that Gwen has been killed in an attack on the Guild. Please don't do anything stupid; we're working on getting our revenge.

Caroline.

Gwen ....his beautiful, lively Gwen ....his wife for almost ten years, through rain and shine, through good and bad, was gone. He couldn't believe it; wouldn't believe it, not until he saw her body or heard the words from Caroline's own lips, watched the familiar softness of his cousin's eyes fill with tears for him.

It couldn't be true. But why would Caroline send such a message if it wasn't' She wasn't cruel at heart, it wasn't her style to lie in order to get him home. She was like Ollie and Jon and Gigi; they'd never resented his freedom to come and go as he pleased, encouraged him to take the job at the museum precisely so he could travel and do what he loved so well.

Yet if it was true, then he was the reason Gwen was dead. So selfish as to continue on his journeys after the accident .....No. He wasn't going to lie to himself any longer.

It had been no accident that had taken his beloved wife's power to walk from her. It had been his desire for a child. He had ignored the warnings from the doctors, and though Gwen had agreed with him, the weight of guilt for what happened fell squarely on his shoulders. She had carried their first child to term, but the birth had been too much. The babe had rested too long on the delicate curve of her lower spine, too big to pass safely through her hips ....already dead when they delivered it by C-section. And because of his pride, his insistence that they have children, from that day Gwen had never taken another step.

And now she was gone. He had left her behind to go off on his adventures, telling himself that she had agreed with him, that she wanted him to go. If only he had been here, perhaps she would not have been working with the Guild at all. If he had stayed, there would have been no need for her to visit any of the holdings. She would still be alive, waiting for him to get back from his normal nine-to-five job at the museum.

The gates of the Maple Grove compound came into sight. Someone must have seen him coming, for they were opening as he drove through, for once not needing to give his name to the guards on duty in order to be let into his own home. The Jeep rumbled along the little lanes cut through Humphrey's cultured wilderness, seeking out the familiar lines of Ash Cottage through the trees.

As he drew up, he had a brief surge of hope. Nothing looked any different. The lights were on in the little house, there was sign of movement, of life within. Leaving his bag in the car, he ran up to the front door, shouting his wife's name in desperate hope as he slammed through the door and into the hallway beyond.

She should have been there. She should have been coming to meet him, steering her chair easily through the widened doorway of the study or the living room to greet him there in the hallway. It should have been Gwen. Not his mother, walking slowly, her face pale with grief and distress, opening her arms without a word to her newly widowed son.

The hope crashed down around him, replaced with the keenness of fury and sorrow. His lips moved soundlessly for a moment, before releasing their howl of deep, heart-wrenching grief. Stumbling forward, Dominic fell to his knees in his mother's arms, holding on tightly as tears began to flow, hot and merciless in their flood.

Gwen was gone.

Dominic Granger

Date: 2011-06-11 14:14 EST
Friday, 10th June. Evening.

Dom had been drinking. Heavily. Alone. It showed in the vague stagger of his walk as he made his way down the street toward the Red Dragon. He looked like hell; unwashed, wearing the clothes he'd been wearing for three days straight, his face unshaven and sallow with inebriated grief and anger. His eyes were narrowed, glaring impotently at the ground in front of his feet. And he was ignoring the constant ringing from his jeans' pocket, evidence that someone was trying to get hold of him.

He came to an unsteady halt by the porch steps, finally digging in his pocket for that annoying cell phone. Habit made him check the name on the display. "Caroline," he growled, just barely slurring his cousin's name. "Oh, f*ck off." With a sudden display of raw fury, he threw the phone at the wall as hard as he could, watching it shatter and die with vicious satisfaction before turning to head into the Inn. He only rebounded off the door once before getting inside, too.

Once inside, the rough-looking professor only had one thing on his mind. Despite the ridiculous amount of alcohol he had already consumed, Dom didn't feel drunk. Or rather, he wasn't drunk enough yet to pass out and stop feeling. So to the bar he went, silent and brooding, and in search of something strong enough to pickle an ogre with.

He offered a grunt to anyone who cared, shouldering behind the bar to grab the first bottle to hand. No need for a glass tonight - he fully intended to drink it all. A handful of coin, assorted silver and copper, was dropped into the jar as he turned back to stagger through the break, aiming himself after a couple of tries toward a table.

Jon had been driving around Rhydin in search of his cousin, but as yet to no avail. Caroline couldn't get in touch with him; no one could. He really didn't expect to find him at the inn, but he didn't want to leave any stones unturned, and so, Jon's beloved Bentley pulled up and parked in front of the inn and after locking it up, he started toward the inn.

Thumping down, Dom uncorked his find and took a long swig, grimacing as the rotgut burned down his throat. The bottle hit the table hard, his hand still curled around it with whitened knuckles. Whatever was bothering him tonight really had its hooks in deep.

Up the stairs Jon went and into the inn. Between his personal and professional life, he'd been too busy to visit the inn lately, but he doubted much had changed. He paused beside the door to take a look around, blue eyes searching for a particular face in the crowd.

Even with his back to the door, his shoulders slumped and his head lowered, Dom was pretty unmistakeable, especially to his own cousins. Oblivious to Jon's entrance for now, the professor lifted the bottle again, hissing as his throat burned once more. He lowered the bottle, scowling as the light flashed from the band of gold wrapped about his finger. No point in having that there anymore.

Jon frowned when he spied the slumped figure of his cousin sitting at a table alone, with only a bottle of booze for company. He wasn't sure anything he might say or do would help, but he had to at least try. He drew a deep breath, gathered his courage and started toward Dominic's table.

Slowly, Dom's fingers moved to slide the wedding band from his hand, turning it over in the light. His expression was utterly blank; only if you looked in the professor's eyes would you see the heart-wrenching agony that resided there. His fist closed about the ring, rising with the intent to throw the band into the fire ....but he couldn't. It was all he had left to say that he had ever been happily married. His fist lowered, slamming hard onto the table in front of him.

"Dom..." Jon greeted his cousin quietly, gently, the look on his face one of obvious concern. He didn't wait to be invited to sit, but slid into a chair beside him.

A familiar voice, breaking him out of his black recollections. Lifting his head, Dom's eyes focused unsteadily on Jon as he sat beside him. "Jon," he greeted his cousin, his voice filled with flase joviality. "Grab a glass, this rotgut is good."

Jon studied his cousin, his concern deepening. He knew getting drunk wouldn't help. It might deaden the pain for a little while, but it wouldn't bring her back. But he wasn't about to lecture his cousin. It wasn't what he was there for. "Dom, you should come home. Everyone's worried."

Dominic Granger

Date: 2011-06-11 14:16 EST
Part Two ...

Dom snorted, his expression showing disgust at Jon's words. "Worried m'gonna do somethin' stupid, are ya?" he asked, the slurring growing more pronounced with every drink he took from his chosen bottle of rotgut. "Stupid like get m'sel' killed, too' Or d'you mean stupid like leavin' m'wife t'work f'r the fam'ly while I go off'n enjoy m'sel' in the middle of a desert?"

Jon's frown deepened, feeling both sympathy and concern for his cousin's plight. "No one is blaming you, Dom. Gwen loved you. She wanted you to follow your heart wherever it led. It's not your fault."

"Yeah, well, doesn' matter what she wanted, does it?" There was a stark bitterness in Dom's voice as he spoke, something almost completely alien to him. He was normally so calm, so reassuring a presence. "She's ....Doesn't matter." He belched, blowing a cloud of fouled alcoholic breath across the table as his brows knit closer together. His fist tightened, the ring cutting into his palm. "She shouldn' 've been workin' f'r the Guild. Should've been me."

Jon leaned in, folding his arms against the table, rage at Gwen's death mingled with sorrow. "It could have been any of us. They're cowards, and they're going to pay." A gentle soul, it was unlike Jon to speak of vengence, but whoever had killed Gwen deserved payback.

Dom leaned closer, swaying as he stared blearily into his cousin's eyes. "Who?" he demanded. "Y' tell me who, and I f*cking murder the bastards!" His voice rose to a shout that screamed with pain and anger, pushing himself up onto his feet to slam his fist down onto the table once again. "Where are they, huh, Jon' Y'tell me where the f*ckers are who killed my Gwen, an' I swear I'll go down fightin'!"

Jon moved to his feet and reached for his cousin in an attempt to calm him down. "Dom, we don't know yet, but when we do, I swear I'll be right there with you. They're not going to get away with this." He paused, adding, "Caro's been trying to reach you. You should call her. She's worried sick."

"Call her" Woman won't leave me alone!" Dom scowled, grasping his bottle and hoisting it up to his lips to down half the remaining contents in a loud, dribbling gulp. The back of his hand rubbed against his mouth as he swallowed, grimacing all over again. "None of 'em will. Think'm not big 'nough t'look after m'sel'. Little girls tryin' t' make out they're in charge'n all ....bloody ridiculous!" He laughed, a harsh, rough sound that rasped from his throat as he swayed on his feet.

Jon reached to catch Dom by the elbow, concerned he might topple over. "They're just concerned. They're worried about you. They care about you. It's what families do. Why don't you let me take you home?"

"Home" Home?" Dom yanked his arm roughly out of Jon's grasp, swaying back on his heels until he thumped down into his chair once again. He gazed up at his cousin, accusation, guilt, self-loathing, all graven in his face. When next he spoke, his voice was softer, broken with grief. "She was home. N'matter where I went ....always knew Gwen was safe'n well, back here. Back home." His expression darkened again, the grief pushed aside behind raging fury that blackened his aspect. "More fool me."

Jon looked sadly at his cousin as he retook his seat. There was nothing he could say that would ease his pain or bring his beloved Gwen back. Jon didn't remember what it felt like to lose someone he loved. He hardly remembered Dom or Gwen, but that didn't make him care any less, and he understood Dom's grief. Though he didn't remember, he'd learned about his own past and knew what it felt like to feel that kind of guilt. "What's done is done. Blaming yourself won't solve anything."

First Caroline, then Lola, and now Gwen. Jon didn't even think about what had happened to him. It didn't figure into the equation. He worried for his sister's safety and that of his cousins. He leaned toward his cousin, lowering his voice. "What we have to do now is find out who did this and make them pay."

There was pure venom in Dom's glance as it turned on Jon. "Spare me y'platitudes," he snapped, his voice dangerously low in his throat. "S'just words. Words mean sh*t. I want blood, Jon. And if it isn' gonna be the bastards who did this, it'll be the bastards who let it happen. The Old Man ....Caroline ....Jorgi ....everyone who should've been lookin' out f'r her ....ev ....everyone ..." He dropped his head down into his hands, a massive shudder shaking those sturdy shoulders.

Dominic Granger

Date: 2011-06-11 14:19 EST
Part Three ...

Jon arched a brow at his cousin. "Caroline" What are you doing to do Dom' Kill us all out of anger and rage" It's not our fault, and you know it. It's those bastards who killed Gwen! And I swear to God, they're going to pay." It was Jon's turn to smack the table with a fist, his face flushing with anger.

Like a moth to the flame, perhaps one angry Granger was drawn to the rage of another. Then again, the grower might have only been after tequila. Whatever the reason Gigi stalked in through the front door.

Now Jon was starting to feel like he needed a drink....or something. But he was supposed to be the level-headed one. Caroline was counting on him to be the level-headed one. And he'd promised Correy not to do anything stupid.

The professor's head snapped up, his glare just as nasty as before. "Get off y'high horse, Jonny," he snarled unsteadily. "Isn' like y'r so bloody sweet an' fresh y'sel' ....messin' round wi' that Nikki girl, an' then breakin' Kaylee's heart, an' gettin' y'sel' shot bad 'nough t' turn Correy int' a mad mess!" Dom might not be in town often, but he was very quick at catching up on what his family had been up to. "S'called grief. S'called f*cking anger. Don' you ever tell me what I can an' can't feel."

"My high horse" That's right, Dom. Turn it around and make it my fault. It's easier that way, isn't it?" Jon shot back. "I'm not trying telling you what to feel, you stubborn ass. I'm trying to tell you I care."

Gigi honed in on her relatives. For once she wasn't the one yelling. She came to stand near Jon and Dom's table. "Jon boy." She didn't hiss or raise her voice. It was only meant as a reminder of circumstance, even if it verged on stern.

"Y' want t' make somethin' of it?" Dom was too far gone in drink, much less his grief, to keep himself from reacting to anything that got his back up now. His fist curled into Jon's shirt, dragging his cousin up from his seat as he lurched to his feet. "Y' think y'can take me, Jonny boy?" He barely notcied Gigi's arrival, glaring at Jon through a haze of alcoholic fury.

Jon clenched his jaw and glanced over at Gigi as he found himself dragged to his feet. He'd learned a thing or two from Ollie, but didn't want to fight Dom, especially while he was drunk. "If it'll make you feel better, go for it."

It was very rare that Gigi tried to insert herself into the role of family peacekeeper. Usually she disturbed the peace more than anything else. "Dom." Her dry tone didn't hold much softness but she reached a hand to try and place it on one of those fists clutching Jon's shirt.

There were some things that even grief and alcohol could not destroy. As Dom glared at his cousin, the blinding pain came back into his eyes, the shock of losing his wife redoubled by the horror that he had laid hands on his cousin in anger. Releasing Jon quickly, he staggered back, his anguished gaze turning to Gigi in silence for a long moment. "I'm sorry ....gods, sorry ....I..." His hand gestured toward the door, the other catching up his bottle of rotgut from the table. "I have to ...."

Shaking his head, Dom turned, shouldering his way out through the door and onto the porch, horrified by how out of control he felt.

Jon knew Dom was angry at the world right now, and he didn't really blame him, but they weren't the enemy. He looked between the two of them, not knowing what to say to make things better. He knew nothing would make things better. He watched his cousin depart, frowning and turned back to Gigi, his anger evaporating, replaced by grief. "I don't know what to say to him, Geeg." He was starting to think there was a curse on the Grangers.

Disconcerting eyes followed Dom out the door but Gigi's feet stayed put. She knew Jon would be fine. He had survived far worse. She nodded. "That's because there's nothing that can be said." Besides the grief she felt over the loss of Gwen, one of the few bright spots in a blighted family tree, the death had thrusted memories of losing Teddy even moreso to the forefront of her mind than usual. "." She rubbed a hand over the top half of her face.

"You talk to him. Maybe he'll listen to you," Jon told Gigi, as he watched Dom through the window, lingering on the porch.

Dominic Granger

Date: 2011-06-11 14:20 EST
Part Four ...

Dominic didn't get far. Out onto the porch where the cool air hit him full in the face, bringing his drunken state crashing to the forefront of his mind. What had he done? Nothing too bad, thankfully, but he had almost ....He needed someone to understand, not to tell him that revenge would make it all right again. His gaze drifted to the bottle in his hand, the glimmering band of gold about his finger. She'd be so ashamed of him if she were here now. With a howl, he cast the bottle into the street, letting it smash against the stone with brutal force.

Something in that notion of Jon's made Gigi's lips twitch in a smirk. It was lost soon though at the howl. She went to squeeze Jon's shoulder and cut a path out the door and to the porch.

Jon watched Gigi leave, going to do what he had so obviously failed at. He'd heard his cousin's howl and the sound of broken glass, feeling helpless to do anything to ease his pain. He dropped into a chair and pulled out his phone to call Caroline. At least, he could tell her he'd found him.

Dom was on his knees, his large hands gripping the railing of the porch tightly enough to give himself splinters. His head was bowed, tucked between his raised shoulders, his breath coming fast and shallow, shuddering as he tried to get a grip on himself.

Gigi took a lean against the railing but did not try to touch Dom. She crossed her arms over her chest and let him do whatever he was doing.

He knew she was there. Of everyone he loved, Gigi was the one who might best be able to understand the conflict he was feeling. Dom loved his family, but they had failed him. He'd left his wife to their care, and because of the business, or someone who hated the business, she'd been killed in brutal fashion. It was so hard to even bring himself to look any of them in the eye, much less try to be civil. His voice was dull as he spoke, quiet and wracked with pain. "She's gone, Geeg."

"I know. It's up." She sat down on the top step near him. She let her arms rest across her raised knees. She wished not only for him to be spared the pain of it but that she might not understand the depth of his pain from her own experience. There was no way to be articulate about it.

A long sigh left him, hands leaving the railing as he twisted to set down on his backside, leaning back against the weathered wood. "It's my fault, in the end," he said then, the slur of his voice lessened out here in the misty air. "I was the one who wanted children. If I hadn't ....she would still have had the use of her legs. And I know my Gwen, she would have been the one in the hospital instead of Jorgi. But she'd be alive."

"Maybe. Maybe not." She wasn't going to talk him through the reasons why the 'what if' game never ended well. "It's the of living, I think. The good ones go so quick."

He nodded, morose now more than angry or grieving. "Wrong place, wrong time," he muttered. "Doing a favour for Caroline, and look where it got her. F*cking Guild kills everyone, sooner or later."

She smirked in spite of the situation. "You know I agree with that. In body or spirit." One hand reached into her pocket to produce a homegrown joint and the lighter Jon gave her for Christmas. She lit up and took a drag. "When Teddy died, I set the whole field on fire. I wanted to burn it all down."

He snorted harshly, the sound shaking his body back and forth for a moment. "I don't know what I want," he admitted, low and worryingly unfeeling. "Blood on my hands, bodies lining the streets. Caroline not to flinch everytime she looks at me." His voice dropped to a longing whisper. "Gwen."

Dominic Granger

Date: 2011-06-11 14:22 EST
Part Five ...

A plume of smoke left her mouth before any words could. Someone would have yelled at her for making an offer but she held out the joint to to Dom if he wanted it. "I've got news for you, Dom. You're going to want those things forever. The loss never goes away. You just get a better handle on it." No point in mincing words.

Dom didn't indulge. At least, he didn't indulge when he was in his right mind. His hand reached out to take the joint, raising it to his lips to draw in a slow, deep breath of the confusticating smoke before handing it back. "What the hell is the problem this time?" he asked in a tight voice, holding his breath a moment longer before letting out his lungful of smoke in a forceful puff. "More slavers?"

The joint returned to its owner for another drag. " if I know. But I'm with you. Whatever you want to do about it. I don't care if it with business or not."

"Sod the business," Dom growled, a hint of his fury reawakening as he rested his head back, staring at the rafters of the porch. "This is personal. Some f*cker killed my wife ....I think I'm going to rip off his testicles and eat them in front of him, for starters."

"They'll probably taste like ." The faintest twitch of otherwise solemn lips. The only thing to do in the face of devastation when not raging about it was to indulge in dark humor. "You need my help with any of that, you tell me and I'll bring the chef's knife."

Dom barked out a laugh. His voice was hoarse now, both from the sheer amount of unaccustomed alcohol and the tight rein he still had on his urge to destroy something until it stopped hurting. "I'll bring the recipe," he assured her. "The tribe I was with just last week have some very creative ways to make testicles taste edible. What do you think ....would making someone watch me cooking while he bleeds out be a suitable revenge?"

She hogged the rest of the joint and finished it. "That sounds like a decent start. We can improv." Dark humor, maybe, or true intentions.

Coughing, Dom shook his head, the humor on his face short-lived as he came back to reality once again. He lowered his eyes to the ring on his finger, turning it almost tenderly in silence. It was a long moment before he spoke again. "I was going to punch him. Jon. I let it get out of hand." He snorted bitterly. "Wouldn't be surprised if he flinches everytime he sees me now."

"I would be more surprised if you weren't trying to break , Dom, even faces." She made the first attempt finally at contact and patted his knee once. "We're Grangers. It's not a family event unless one of us tries to throw down. Jon boy will understand."

His hand lowered to grip hers, painfully tight. For all his normally gentle persona, Dom didn't quite know his own strength at times. "Where are you staying at the moment?" he asked his cousin faintly, a night alone in Ash Cottage looming before him with heart-breaking inevitability.

If it hurt she didn't let on. "You tell me. Want to come to my spot and we'll sharpen my knives?"

He sighed once more. "If you can stand having a grown man crying all over you."

She snorted. ", sweetheart, you know what I do for a living" I've had grown men try and do a lot worse. Can't be any worse than dealing with a tweaked out junkie."

Dominic Granger

Date: 2011-06-11 14:24 EST
Part Six ...

Dom's smile was faint, yes, but it was there, proof that underneath all the angst and pain he was still the same man he had been before this latest tragedy. "Just so long as you don't try sex therapy on me, we'll be fine," he snorted, releasing her hand as he moved to get to his feet.

"Now that's just disgusting, Dom." She snorted and stood up. "You want to go now?"

He nodded, the brief moment of levity passed for now. "I can get there myself," he offered, "if you want to stay and talk to Jon some more. I can't ....I can't face him. Not after what I almost did to him tonight."

"Let me go tell him we're leaving. Wait for me. My spot's not in the safest of places and if you're already planning on being a blubbering mess it doesn't bode well for you to walk there alone." A faint smirk and she opened the front door.

His attempt at a laugh in answer brought a wracking cough to his chest, one hand waving her away as she headed inside once again. Turning back to the street, Dom leaned himself against the porch railing. He felt numb inside, detached from everything when he had been so furious only minutes ago. But the pain still lurked, just out of reach, ready to take him at the next opportunity.

Gigi's swift steps carried her over to Jon. "Dom's coming with me. You cool?"

He glanced over at Gigi in mid-pour of a second shot when she approached. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. Tomorrow's a new day, Jon boy." She didn't relay that Dom was sorry. She knew Jon understood. There was a fleeting smile for her cousin. She returned out the door and to the waiting Dom.

"Right. A new day," he muttered to himself, echoing Gigi. "Here's to a new day then." He tipped back the second shot and drank it down. The second always went down easier than the first.

Dom was already down on the street, dragging his booted toe through the broken glass and shards of cellphone plastic he had smashed there over the course of the evening. Hands in his pockets, he looked up as Gigi came out, somehow looking a lot smaller than his 6' and then some build. "He okay?"

"None of us are ever really okay and yet we're ever fine, aren't we?" Kado would enjoy such a turn of riddled tongue. "No one expects you to be anything other than human, Dom. Don't forget that." Tomorrow was a new day for apologies and corrections. Tonight was for being. She started down the front steps.

He snorted again, shaking his head as he fell into step with her. "Never took you for a philosopher, Geeg. You must be spending too much time with me when I'm around."

"That or I've been smoking too much green." The humor wouldn't last forever but she was glad to see him doing something other than weeping or wailing for the moment. She led the way to one of two places where she liked to lay her head. At least Dom wouldn't be alone with his grief tonight.

((Adapted from Live Play - huge thank you's to Jonathan Granger and Dr Greenthumb Granger!))