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Imperial Junke Yard, Friday

Absolutely nothing strange was happening today. This made Marcus suspicious.

He was down the back of the junkyard, repairing a hole in the chainlink fence. It was a big enough hole that he knew it hadn't been made by the rats, big enough to make him want to keep whatever it was out.

He threaded rope through the edges to pull it taut, tied it off, and began methodically untwisting the wire. A roll of chainlink fence was leaning nearby.

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Head through the gate and straight on towards the back.

Kyle hadn't check up (checked in, he reminded himself) on Marcus for a while, so during his morning run he detoured to the yard of junk. When he saw what Marcus was doing, he asked a question that was becoming a pretty common start to their conversations. "What are you doing?"

Marcus didn't turn around, simply kept untwisting each individual link with a pair of pliers. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Kyle kept his eyeroll to himself and corrected himself. "Why are you doing that?"

"Something put a hole in the fence," he replied, untwisting another link, moving his hands quickly out of the way as the link sprang open. "I'm fixing it."

With a frown, Kyle glanced around. "What did it?"

"Don't know." And he wasn't at all happy about that. "Not rats," he added, very sure of that.

"Had a rat problem?" He wasn't very wordy today.

Then he fit right in at the junkyard. "Yeah." Marcus untwisted another wire, then turned his head to glance at Kyle. "Expected you last weekend." He didn't sound angry; he didn't sound much of anything.

"Yeah. Something came up," he said evasively. "I'm here now."

"And?" It was completely neutral; Marcus'd learned patience, learned how to wait, and Kyle was his best chance at getting what he needed.

"And I'll get you what you want," he replied. It was probably a stupid mistake, but he'd always trusted his instincts. "But it takes time."

That was definitely a smile on Marcus' face. "Thanks," he said and meant it.

"I want you to remember that I'm responsible for what you do with what I give you," Kyle said, turning serious.

His smile faded as he looked at Kyle, head tilted slightly. "So I decide to kill someone, you think it's gonna be your fault?"

"If you decide to kill someone and it's not in self-defense, I'll kill you."

Marcus kept studying him, then nodded. "Fair enough," he said, putting down his pliers and reaching into his back pocket to pull out a wad of cash.

Kyle studied him with caution. If Marcus had wanted to kill him, the weekend where he'd been a harmless kid would have been the time to do it. There were plenty of times that Marcus could have killed him and he hadn't. The only reason he was even considered supplying him with weapons was that he would never forgive himself if he left his friend defenseless and something this island threw at them killed him.

"I can't tell if I can get everything on the list in one trip. My supplier isn't exactly reliable." Illegal arms traders rarely were.

Edited 2010-05-07 10:20 (UTC)

Marcus noted the caution, not surprised. That Kyle was willing, that surprised him. Not that it showed. "I figured." He wanted everything on his list, but he'd take what he could get. "Here." He held out most of his cash. "Should cover it."

There was a raised eyebrow, questioning where a dead guy got that kind of money, but Kyle took it without asking. "I'll bring back whatever's left." He stashed the money inside a pocket in his waistband. "Heard you talked to Detective Reese."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Yeah?"

"She got worried when you knew me. Told her you were a friend from home and you were always that friendly."

Edited 2010-05-07 10:34 (UTC)

"Thought she might be related," was all he said, but he gave Kyle a long, considering, intent look.

"Might be," he shrugged. "Different universe. One I don't exist in."

He nodded, but he wasn't really paying attention, thoughts fixed on something else. "Kyle." It might be the first time he'd ever used the kid's name. "I'm gonna tell you something," he said seriously, "and you need to listen."

Kyle straightened. This sounded serious, and even if it wasn't, he was on edge anyway. He nodded.

"You know me, some version of me, maybe me from some future I'm never gonna see." He'd accepted that awhile ago, no matter how crazy it seemed. "But this me, right here and now, I'm not your friend from home," he said, watching Kyle closely. "You think that way, you could end up in trouble." Kyle's blind spot was something he could use, had used, he knew that, but this was important. "You understand?"

Kyle didn't know whether to be angry, indignant or defiant. "You're not him," he managed to say. "I know that." His friend Marcus was dead. Maybe this guy would be the same guy one day, but right now he wasn't. It hurt to say it, but Kyle had felt a lot worse. He dug deep to keep his voice even and even then it wasn't easy. "I told her you were so she'd leave you alone. It's a small place and you can't go anywhere. There aren't lot of places to hide."

It had been a very long time since anyone but Marcus had looked out for Marcus. He wasn't sure how to react. "Thanks," he finally said, looking away, on unfamiliar ground and not enjoying it.

With a shrug, Kyle looked anywhere else but at Marcus. "Don't think I don't know what you could do if you wanted to." It seemed like the right way to say 'don't assume I'm stupid because I like you sometimes.'

Marcus got it. He nodded, just once. "Think you're the only person here who does." And even Kyle didn't know all of it. "Like to keep it that way." It was equal parts request and as close as he could get, close as he was willing to get, to reassurance.

"People here won't ask a lot of questions as long as you don't seem like a threat. Go quiet, they'll move on."

"Yeah." Marcus crouched to pick up the pliers, turning back to the fence. "I'll remember."

He knew when it was time to leave. "I'm going."

Marcus acknowledged it with a nod, began once more untwisting the chain links, but he paused. "I owe you one," he added without turning around.

Kyle stopped mid-movement, watching Marcus' back. Some victories were small ones. He considered saying something, but decided against it and walked to the gate. He needed to run.

This is where the junk lives, and it's always happy to have visitors.

Edited 2010-05-07 08:39 (UTC)

Not available at all after 8:30, so mod your junk!

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Imperial Junke Yard, Friday

Talk to Marcus

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Yards of Junk

OOC