Angela Louella Ashwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
americanskin) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamlikenewyork2017-03-27 09:34 pm
americanskin) wrote in dreamlikenewyork2017-03-27 09:34 pm
"Any fool can make a baby, but it takes a man, to raise a child."
Who: Angela Ashwood and Clint Chevalier
What: What's in a name...
Where: Home, NYC
When: Monday
When Angela got home from a check-up with her OB/GYN, she thought no one was home. The place was quiet and still, when it could sometimes be a hive of activity with so many people under one roof. With a quick survey, she realised Lincoln was asleep in his and Clint's room, the door open just a little, but the room in darkness with the curtains drawn. She was about to go make a cuppa when she spotted a wooden box on the coffee table that she had seen before, and it was sitting on something that looked like an old photo album.
As curious as she was about what they were, she didn't snoop. Things were changing all around them, and since it had come to light that Clint and Lorenzo were twin brothers, and not cousins like they had been led to believe, Clint had been a lot more subdued than normal. Almost veering into broody levels, and Clint wasn't usually a brooder. He was more likely to go and fuck out his frustrations, or go pick a fight, or get drunk to vent his frustrations. He didn't normally dwell.
That was why she wasn't surprised to look out through the large glass doors onto their balcony and found Clint sitting out there alone. He was slumped in one of the outdoor chairs, feet up on the balcony rail, having a cigarette. She didn't disturb him. At least, not straight away. It was only after she made a cuppa, finished it, and had gotten changed into some track pants and an oversized sweater and he was still out there that she wanted to at least make sure he was okay. She headed out there after shoved some slippers on her feet. She gave him a smile. "Hey, lover. You okay?" she asked, pulling up a chair to sit beside him.
"Mm," was Clint's distracted response at suddenly realising he was no longer alone. He quickly stubbed his half-spent cigarette out in the ashtray, leaving it resting in one of the grooves at the edge of the glass. He fanned the smoke away from Angela with his hand. He might be a prized cunty bastard sometimes, but he wouldn't keep smoking around when she was preggers. Especially not when it was his son in there. "You alright, love? Weren't you out getting your box a tune-up?"
Angela snorted and shook her head in amusement. Trust Clint to put it in the most crude way possible. "No, I was technically making sure your son still had blood pumping away to his dangly bits. Because let's be real, if he's anything like you, hell need to start working on that stamina in-utero." She reached over to take his hand, and that was when she realised he was holding something. She turned his palm over. "What's this?"
Compared to Clint, Angela had really small hands, but she was a small person. Always had been. That didn't mean she wasn't tough, because she was a true ball-breaker. That was what always got him hot for her. Her hands felt delicate cupped around his. "Baptism bracelet," he muttered and picked up the bottle of beer he had been slowly working his way through. It was a tiny chain of yellow gold with an engraved nameplate, with a charm of a pearl and sapphire gemstone. He looked over at her and met her gaze, wondering how far she would push the line of questioning.
It was funny how she noticed how much Clint's eyes were just like Lorenzo's now, especially when they were piercing her with a sharp gaze. She didn't take the delicate bracelet from his palm, but she turned it over so she could see what was on the nameplate. Zéphyr was engraved in a beautiful intricate script. "There's another one of these somewhere, isn't there?" she realised softly. It was so small, it only would have fit a newborn baby.
Clint nodded, the beer bottle still had his lips. "Hols worse it for her name-giving and adoption ceremony."
"You were baptised? Fuck, if there was a god, he would be would up there in a dark corner rocking right about now," Angela noted. It just didn't seem fucking possible that Clint had ever been in a church for an official purpose.
"Yeah, but I fucking knew that before any of this shit." Clint's face screwed up in distaste and he downed the last of the beer. "Don't worry, I jerked off in a church and fucked a closeted Catholic priest to rid myself of the purity. That's about all the fucks I had to give to religion."
Nothing was less surprising for Angela to hear. Now she did pick the tiny bracelet up to get a closer look. It was beautiful, and hard to believe Clint had worn it as a baby. Or had he? "Where did you get this from? If you were baptised as Zéphyr, then more people had to have known about the switch."
"I never wore it. I got it from a garage in New Orleans. It's all that's left standing of my grandparents' place that was torched by the raping murdering cunt," Clint told her. He was surprised that he wasn't getting angry here. Mostly because it was over now. Neither of his biological parents were alive. Maybe Karma really did exist. At least, he had been determined to make sure it did.
Silence lingered for a few moments, and then Angela spoke again. She closed his hand over the bracelet. "Your son's going to be called Zéphyr." She held his gaze, and gave him a nod with a soft smile. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers. "And this will be worn, just like it should have been all along," she added, holding his hand tightly around the bracelet. No, their baby wouldn't be baptised, christened, or any other religious tagging. But the bracelet didn't mean any of that. It was part of Clint and Lorenzo's heritage, from the baby's great-grandmother, and because of that, it was priceless.
This time, Clint didn't protest. He was watching Ange, and just soon gave a nod. Lincoln had initially put this proposal on the table in New Orleans, but Clint had been so worked up and angry still then. He was ready to reject anything and everything to do with his blood relations. That didn't negate the fact he had been close to both his grandparents. He and Lorenzo both had been, until their grandfather had been brutally murdered. Lorenzo didn't know that. Clint was feeling a lot of guilt now for what he knew and had protected Lorenzo from. The story had been that it was a home invasion, a random crime. All along, their grandmother cared for them, and protected them. The only reason she hadn't told them was to protect them. She hoped they would find her letter one day with the truth, and Clint's savvy mind had finally connected the dots on where to find it. "My grandmother literally died leaving her legacy in the hands of Moody Blues lyrics," he said with a small snort. "She was a matriarch as fuck, but she always would tell me I had a dangerous mind. She knew I'd figure it out."
Angela smirked. "Dangerous as fuck. I wish I had met her. You've always talked so fondly of her, even if I know you weren't realising you were doing it. But as much as I always thought I knew you, and I knew you had secrets, I could never have imagined just how horrific the secrets were. Are you going to tell Lorenzo the full story, or are you just going to sit on it like you always have?"
"Lew knows, so I have to tell Renz. It's as fucking simple as that. I ain't being instrumental in them having to have fucking secrets from each other. Lew fucking Yoda'd me at the hospital when I went to see how Renz was doing. He, uh... figured shit out. That I had only told Lincoln. Fucking asshole gets into my head. Lew looks at me, and it feels like he's reading my fucking mind." Clint hadn't told anyone else that he had arranged for a couple of his most trusted connections to arrange for a payment to go to one of the inmates in the same prison that his biological mother was held. The other woman was already in for triple first degree murder, so she had life without parole, but the cash could go to her family on the outside; kids she left behind. There would be no trace of where it came from, they would just find a bag of cash on their doorstep one day. In turn, the woman would stab Clint and Lorenzo's biological mother to death, erase her from their lives completely. He just could never have foreseen the shock would cause Lorenzo to essentially go into cardiac arrest.
"Sure, but do you want Lorenzo to know? If Lew hadn't worked it out, would you tell them?" Angela prompted. When they were sitting there, she could feel the baby start to kick, so now Clint had a free hand after downing his beer, she took it and pressed it against the bump. "This kid is a badass. He keeps kicking me in the ribs. Remind me again why I thought your sperm would make a good rugrat?" she joked.
"You just couldn't get enough of my fucking fabulous cock. Admit it," Clint drawled, returning the smirk, though his was tired around the edges. All this shit had left him fatigued, and it wasn't help that he had developed a fucking ulcer from the stress. But Lincoln was the only one who knew that. But the sarcastic humour didn't last long. He could feel the baby moving around, doing whatever kids did when they were hanging out in the womb for the better part of a year. It was weird to think it was his kid in there. It probably wouldn't hit home until he saw him. "No, I don't fucking want him to know. That doesn't mean my call is the right one. I ain't gonna sit back and pretend nothing happened, then in five, ten, fifteen fucking years down the track, he found out about it all anyway, and never wants another fucking thing to do with me again because I didn't tell him. It ain't about what I want, or what Lew wants, or what everyone else fucking wants. It's about what Renz rightfully deserves to fucking know now. I just gotta get my head around the fact he ain't fragile. The fact he nearly dropped dead ain't helping me get my fucking head around it."
Angela flipped him off, but she wouldn't deny what was the truth. She did enjoy the talents of his cock, but wasn't why he was chosen as their baby daddy. It was pure and simple that he was one of the most important people in her life. She loved him, she trusted him with her life, and lives of everyone she loved. He might be a fucking hardass cunt, but he had genuinely good innate qualities. She knew that even if he wasn't feeling it yet, he would be an amazing father, and so would Lincoln. There would always be four parents in this equation, and a whole lot of closer family that adored their little person unconditionally. That was what was the most important thing of all. "You just want to talk to him, don't you? That's your biggest struggle. He's always been there. Now he's not. Now, you have to wait."
"I have to wait because I did this to him." Fuck, it was hard for Clint to not light up another smoke. He also couldn't have another beer, because Lincoln would probably fucking divorce him for not following doctor's orders. Instead, he had the tiny bracelet looped around his thumb, twisting it around and around absentmindedly.
"No, your mother did this to him," Angela corrected quietly, analysing him closely for his reaction. "She split you at birth, she stayed with your abusive father to the point Renz was repeatedly traumatised trying to protect her from him. She killed the fucking cunt. All you did was find the truth."
And eradicate the bitch form their lives so she never hurt Renz again, Clint added in his mind. He didn't want Angela or Emily knowing he orchestrated her murder. Even if they suspected, he didn't want them to know. The less people that knew, the better. He didn't want this to be a forever-blight on their lives. But more than that, he didn't want it to forever be in their minds. As far as he was concerned, it was done. It was one of the best moves he made, because if the cunt ever got parole, she would have been on the next bus out here to try to justify it. She was fucked in the head, institutionalised. He saw all the signs when he went to see her to get her to confess to what she did. People like that, they can never acclimatised safely to the real world again. She knew she could kill, and she knew killing was a tool to gain her power. If she was that fucked in the head, she would do it again. Clint had no intentions of letting Renz, Holly, or anyone else in his family be exposed to that kind of deranged risk. He had to take care of it as soon as he knew the truth. It was the only way they could move on from this. Just because they didn't know about it before, having them split at birth was really the worse - and most dangerous - move the bitch could ever have made. She should have had them adopted out, together. No questions asked. "You play with fucking fire with me, you won't just end up burnt." And he left it at that.
Angela had a feeling she knew what he was saying here, but he wasn't actually saying anything. And that was okay. Clint dealt with shit in his own way, and this was literally one of the biggest shocks of his life, equal only to Lincoln's stabbing. But even the stabbing hadn't destroyed the only identity he ever knew. He was born someone else. He was raised separate from his twin brother. Whether he wanted to openly deal with it or not, it was affecting him. He was sad. He just didn't deal with these sorts of emotions in a generalised way. Because they were all intertwined with deeper and more complex memories. No one but Clint would ever be fully versant to the true extent of them. "And now she's gone. Forever. Out of your lives. Time to open a new book."
Clint held out the bracelet to her. "Here, you may as well take it. Keep it with all the other shit you've bought for him."
Angela pushed his hand back, shaking her head. "No, love. I'm not taking it. That's yours to give to him when he's born. You're not going to believe me when I say this now, but you giving it to him will be something you never forget. It's new memories for you to start to drown out the old, horrific ones. He's your namesake, not mine," she told him with a smile. She stood up and leaned over to give him a kiss. "I have to go pee again. This is your fault, bitch," she added, once again joking as she patted the baby bump and then disappeared inside.
Clint watched her go and once he was alone again, he lit up another smoke and sat there looking at the tiny loop of gold around his thumb. He sighed. "Fuck, Renz, you need to wake the fuck up, because I don't know how to do any of this sort of shit without you..."
LOG, COMPLETE
What: What's in a name...
Where: Home, NYC
When: Monday
When Angela got home from a check-up with her OB/GYN, she thought no one was home. The place was quiet and still, when it could sometimes be a hive of activity with so many people under one roof. With a quick survey, she realised Lincoln was asleep in his and Clint's room, the door open just a little, but the room in darkness with the curtains drawn. She was about to go make a cuppa when she spotted a wooden box on the coffee table that she had seen before, and it was sitting on something that looked like an old photo album.
As curious as she was about what they were, she didn't snoop. Things were changing all around them, and since it had come to light that Clint and Lorenzo were twin brothers, and not cousins like they had been led to believe, Clint had been a lot more subdued than normal. Almost veering into broody levels, and Clint wasn't usually a brooder. He was more likely to go and fuck out his frustrations, or go pick a fight, or get drunk to vent his frustrations. He didn't normally dwell.
That was why she wasn't surprised to look out through the large glass doors onto their balcony and found Clint sitting out there alone. He was slumped in one of the outdoor chairs, feet up on the balcony rail, having a cigarette. She didn't disturb him. At least, not straight away. It was only after she made a cuppa, finished it, and had gotten changed into some track pants and an oversized sweater and he was still out there that she wanted to at least make sure he was okay. She headed out there after shoved some slippers on her feet. She gave him a smile. "Hey, lover. You okay?" she asked, pulling up a chair to sit beside him.
"Mm," was Clint's distracted response at suddenly realising he was no longer alone. He quickly stubbed his half-spent cigarette out in the ashtray, leaving it resting in one of the grooves at the edge of the glass. He fanned the smoke away from Angela with his hand. He might be a prized cunty bastard sometimes, but he wouldn't keep smoking around when she was preggers. Especially not when it was his son in there. "You alright, love? Weren't you out getting your box a tune-up?"
Angela snorted and shook her head in amusement. Trust Clint to put it in the most crude way possible. "No, I was technically making sure your son still had blood pumping away to his dangly bits. Because let's be real, if he's anything like you, hell need to start working on that stamina in-utero." She reached over to take his hand, and that was when she realised he was holding something. She turned his palm over. "What's this?"
Compared to Clint, Angela had really small hands, but she was a small person. Always had been. That didn't mean she wasn't tough, because she was a true ball-breaker. That was what always got him hot for her. Her hands felt delicate cupped around his. "Baptism bracelet," he muttered and picked up the bottle of beer he had been slowly working his way through. It was a tiny chain of yellow gold with an engraved nameplate, with a charm of a pearl and sapphire gemstone. He looked over at her and met her gaze, wondering how far she would push the line of questioning.
It was funny how she noticed how much Clint's eyes were just like Lorenzo's now, especially when they were piercing her with a sharp gaze. She didn't take the delicate bracelet from his palm, but she turned it over so she could see what was on the nameplate. Zéphyr was engraved in a beautiful intricate script. "There's another one of these somewhere, isn't there?" she realised softly. It was so small, it only would have fit a newborn baby.
Clint nodded, the beer bottle still had his lips. "Hols worse it for her name-giving and adoption ceremony."
"You were baptised? Fuck, if there was a god, he would be would up there in a dark corner rocking right about now," Angela noted. It just didn't seem fucking possible that Clint had ever been in a church for an official purpose.
"Yeah, but I fucking knew that before any of this shit." Clint's face screwed up in distaste and he downed the last of the beer. "Don't worry, I jerked off in a church and fucked a closeted Catholic priest to rid myself of the purity. That's about all the fucks I had to give to religion."
Nothing was less surprising for Angela to hear. Now she did pick the tiny bracelet up to get a closer look. It was beautiful, and hard to believe Clint had worn it as a baby. Or had he? "Where did you get this from? If you were baptised as Zéphyr, then more people had to have known about the switch."
"I never wore it. I got it from a garage in New Orleans. It's all that's left standing of my grandparents' place that was torched by the raping murdering cunt," Clint told her. He was surprised that he wasn't getting angry here. Mostly because it was over now. Neither of his biological parents were alive. Maybe Karma really did exist. At least, he had been determined to make sure it did.
Silence lingered for a few moments, and then Angela spoke again. She closed his hand over the bracelet. "Your son's going to be called Zéphyr." She held his gaze, and gave him a nod with a soft smile. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers. "And this will be worn, just like it should have been all along," she added, holding his hand tightly around the bracelet. No, their baby wouldn't be baptised, christened, or any other religious tagging. But the bracelet didn't mean any of that. It was part of Clint and Lorenzo's heritage, from the baby's great-grandmother, and because of that, it was priceless.
This time, Clint didn't protest. He was watching Ange, and just soon gave a nod. Lincoln had initially put this proposal on the table in New Orleans, but Clint had been so worked up and angry still then. He was ready to reject anything and everything to do with his blood relations. That didn't negate the fact he had been close to both his grandparents. He and Lorenzo both had been, until their grandfather had been brutally murdered. Lorenzo didn't know that. Clint was feeling a lot of guilt now for what he knew and had protected Lorenzo from. The story had been that it was a home invasion, a random crime. All along, their grandmother cared for them, and protected them. The only reason she hadn't told them was to protect them. She hoped they would find her letter one day with the truth, and Clint's savvy mind had finally connected the dots on where to find it. "My grandmother literally died leaving her legacy in the hands of Moody Blues lyrics," he said with a small snort. "She was a matriarch as fuck, but she always would tell me I had a dangerous mind. She knew I'd figure it out."
Angela smirked. "Dangerous as fuck. I wish I had met her. You've always talked so fondly of her, even if I know you weren't realising you were doing it. But as much as I always thought I knew you, and I knew you had secrets, I could never have imagined just how horrific the secrets were. Are you going to tell Lorenzo the full story, or are you just going to sit on it like you always have?"
"Lew knows, so I have to tell Renz. It's as fucking simple as that. I ain't being instrumental in them having to have fucking secrets from each other. Lew fucking Yoda'd me at the hospital when I went to see how Renz was doing. He, uh... figured shit out. That I had only told Lincoln. Fucking asshole gets into my head. Lew looks at me, and it feels like he's reading my fucking mind." Clint hadn't told anyone else that he had arranged for a couple of his most trusted connections to arrange for a payment to go to one of the inmates in the same prison that his biological mother was held. The other woman was already in for triple first degree murder, so she had life without parole, but the cash could go to her family on the outside; kids she left behind. There would be no trace of where it came from, they would just find a bag of cash on their doorstep one day. In turn, the woman would stab Clint and Lorenzo's biological mother to death, erase her from their lives completely. He just could never have foreseen the shock would cause Lorenzo to essentially go into cardiac arrest.
"Sure, but do you want Lorenzo to know? If Lew hadn't worked it out, would you tell them?" Angela prompted. When they were sitting there, she could feel the baby start to kick, so now Clint had a free hand after downing his beer, she took it and pressed it against the bump. "This kid is a badass. He keeps kicking me in the ribs. Remind me again why I thought your sperm would make a good rugrat?" she joked.
"You just couldn't get enough of my fucking fabulous cock. Admit it," Clint drawled, returning the smirk, though his was tired around the edges. All this shit had left him fatigued, and it wasn't help that he had developed a fucking ulcer from the stress. But Lincoln was the only one who knew that. But the sarcastic humour didn't last long. He could feel the baby moving around, doing whatever kids did when they were hanging out in the womb for the better part of a year. It was weird to think it was his kid in there. It probably wouldn't hit home until he saw him. "No, I don't fucking want him to know. That doesn't mean my call is the right one. I ain't gonna sit back and pretend nothing happened, then in five, ten, fifteen fucking years down the track, he found out about it all anyway, and never wants another fucking thing to do with me again because I didn't tell him. It ain't about what I want, or what Lew wants, or what everyone else fucking wants. It's about what Renz rightfully deserves to fucking know now. I just gotta get my head around the fact he ain't fragile. The fact he nearly dropped dead ain't helping me get my fucking head around it."
Angela flipped him off, but she wouldn't deny what was the truth. She did enjoy the talents of his cock, but wasn't why he was chosen as their baby daddy. It was pure and simple that he was one of the most important people in her life. She loved him, she trusted him with her life, and lives of everyone she loved. He might be a fucking hardass cunt, but he had genuinely good innate qualities. She knew that even if he wasn't feeling it yet, he would be an amazing father, and so would Lincoln. There would always be four parents in this equation, and a whole lot of closer family that adored their little person unconditionally. That was what was the most important thing of all. "You just want to talk to him, don't you? That's your biggest struggle. He's always been there. Now he's not. Now, you have to wait."
"I have to wait because I did this to him." Fuck, it was hard for Clint to not light up another smoke. He also couldn't have another beer, because Lincoln would probably fucking divorce him for not following doctor's orders. Instead, he had the tiny bracelet looped around his thumb, twisting it around and around absentmindedly.
"No, your mother did this to him," Angela corrected quietly, analysing him closely for his reaction. "She split you at birth, she stayed with your abusive father to the point Renz was repeatedly traumatised trying to protect her from him. She killed the fucking cunt. All you did was find the truth."
And eradicate the bitch form their lives so she never hurt Renz again, Clint added in his mind. He didn't want Angela or Emily knowing he orchestrated her murder. Even if they suspected, he didn't want them to know. The less people that knew, the better. He didn't want this to be a forever-blight on their lives. But more than that, he didn't want it to forever be in their minds. As far as he was concerned, it was done. It was one of the best moves he made, because if the cunt ever got parole, she would have been on the next bus out here to try to justify it. She was fucked in the head, institutionalised. He saw all the signs when he went to see her to get her to confess to what she did. People like that, they can never acclimatised safely to the real world again. She knew she could kill, and she knew killing was a tool to gain her power. If she was that fucked in the head, she would do it again. Clint had no intentions of letting Renz, Holly, or anyone else in his family be exposed to that kind of deranged risk. He had to take care of it as soon as he knew the truth. It was the only way they could move on from this. Just because they didn't know about it before, having them split at birth was really the worse - and most dangerous - move the bitch could ever have made. She should have had them adopted out, together. No questions asked. "You play with fucking fire with me, you won't just end up burnt." And he left it at that.
Angela had a feeling she knew what he was saying here, but he wasn't actually saying anything. And that was okay. Clint dealt with shit in his own way, and this was literally one of the biggest shocks of his life, equal only to Lincoln's stabbing. But even the stabbing hadn't destroyed the only identity he ever knew. He was born someone else. He was raised separate from his twin brother. Whether he wanted to openly deal with it or not, it was affecting him. He was sad. He just didn't deal with these sorts of emotions in a generalised way. Because they were all intertwined with deeper and more complex memories. No one but Clint would ever be fully versant to the true extent of them. "And now she's gone. Forever. Out of your lives. Time to open a new book."
Clint held out the bracelet to her. "Here, you may as well take it. Keep it with all the other shit you've bought for him."
Angela pushed his hand back, shaking her head. "No, love. I'm not taking it. That's yours to give to him when he's born. You're not going to believe me when I say this now, but you giving it to him will be something you never forget. It's new memories for you to start to drown out the old, horrific ones. He's your namesake, not mine," she told him with a smile. She stood up and leaned over to give him a kiss. "I have to go pee again. This is your fault, bitch," she added, once again joking as she patted the baby bump and then disappeared inside.
Clint watched her go and once he was alone again, he lit up another smoke and sat there looking at the tiny loop of gold around his thumb. He sighed. "Fuck, Renz, you need to wake the fuck up, because I don't know how to do any of this sort of shit without you..."
LOG, COMPLETE