"Trust yourself to do what's right and not be second-guessed."

[beautifulday]

Who: Sasha Stanford and Mark Campbell
What: Trust in the aftermath
Where: Four Winds, Westchester
When: Simultaneous to this

Sasha got in the passenger’s seat of Mark’s car and pulled the door closed with a resounded bang. He looked back at the main building of Four Winds, his heart feeling shaky and his guts sick. His head was hurting too, but he knew it was more stress and upset than a migraine setting in, though he knew he could be at risk of one of those. His eyes stung and he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to massage some sort of hopeful feeling into his pours through his fingertips, like it could somehow infiltrate into his brain. Maybe his brain could convince his heart to be okay, though right now, he wasn’t sure it could be. Then he leant over, buried his face in his hands and burst into tears he had been struggling to hold back since Justin told him he needed to go to hospital or he would kill himself.

( Mark got into the car and looked over to where Sasha was now sitting where Justin had been on the drive up here... )

LOG, COMPLETE

"Your father's gone a-hunting."

[privateinvestigations]

Who: Clint Chevalier, Euan Fitzpatrick, Mark Campbell, James Campbell and Hunter Alexander
What: Revenge is best served murderous
Where: Chevalier-Cole-Ashwood joint, NYC
When: After this and this

Clint had his baby son expertly nursed against his shoulder when he opened the door to his pals. Normally, he would arrange a meeting like this away from home, but he was on solo daddy duty that evening. "Come in. Sorry, my hands are fucking full at the moment. Ange and Lex are away on some dirty lesbo weekend for an anniversary or some shit, and Linc's on a location shoot in Hawaii. I'm left holding the rugrat. Don't worry, he only understands sprog-speak, so your secrets're fucking safe. But I can't put him down, or he'll scream the fucking place to rubble. I dunno what's up with him, but he's a moody shit today."

He had tried everything since Angela and Lexie left at lunchtime, but all he had succeeded in was getting Zephyr to nap for about 3.4 minutes and crap his diaper what felt like about 12 times in the last hour. He was quiet and calm if Clint held him, and all hell broke loose when he tried to put him down for too long. But he was under strict orders to try to stick to a feeding schedule, at least, even if everything else went to shit. Clint wasn't quite as clueless of the process of parenthood as he used to be, but he still felt like his skills paled in comparison to those made to do this job. Like all three of the dudes arriving now to talk about a really fucking sensitive subject. Clint wasn't sure he would have the stamina Mark did to handle all he did with his kid. Clint felt sick to his stomach when he worried about what Zephyr might be like when he grew up, hoping like hell it was nothing like him, even if the kid was looking more and more like him by the day.

"You look rough, bud. I know it's not usually allowed on the menu, but if you want a drink, I'm happy to cough up. You look like you need it," Clint commented as Mark came in with his brother, James. This was some really fucking serious business and Clint wasn't surprised Mark needed back-up. He probably wasn't going to deal well with what Clint revealed here, that he had found out instigating some heavy digging into the situation that was the biological mother of Mark's kid. He nodded to Euan as he passed. "I take it all this is well off the fucking record?"