He'll love us, right? (Ryan and Flynn) @meerclar

[troylus]

Flynn looked annoyed at the interruption when one of his goons knocked on his office door. “What?” he snapped gruffly, not wanting to break his attention from his account keeping. It was always a job he did carefully, not wanting there to be anything unaccounted for that might get the notice of the law.

“Sir, we got that kid what been askin’ around about you ‘round town last few days. Brought him here so you could talk to him, like you asked.”

Flynn frowned again, deeper this time. He disliked people bringing attention onto him, and he especially disliked it that this boy seemed to have heard his whole name, something he rarely told anyone. In fact, he went to some lengths to keep his name out of the public domain, even his minions didn’t know it. Or at least didn’t know it until this kid went around asking for him by it.

“Send him in.” He closed the ledger he was working in and set the pen aside in it’s holder. His office was very neat and tidy, the way he liked it. He took his eyepatch out of his pocket and randomly slid it over his left eye. Then he sat back, lacing his fingers in a domineering expression that came so naturally to him.

The boy that was half thrown into his office was thin and small and dressed in rags. He looked familiar for a moment, and Flynn wondered if it was one of the children he’d left with the nanny. He had a good memory for faces though, he needed that sort of attention to detail in his line of work, and the boy was familiar but he knew he’d never seen him before. A most disconcerting combination.

(ooc note: this post and a series of following ones in this thread were written as a blurb with both writers together, and then divided up for posting purposes)

[meerclar]

Ryan recovered his balance from being shoved through the door, glancing about in a manner that was more curious than fearful and gave Flynn a sheepish half-smile. He tugged at his shirt, trying very ineffectively to neaten it and ran one hand through his hair, ruffling it back off his face and out of his eyes.

The man in front of him was large, and muscled and loomed in an intimidating fashion, but Ryan was used to the heavies on the street. He’d been searching for a few weeks now, asking after the name written as his father on his birth certificate. He’d started off with the shops and businesses in the local suburbs. Nobody had said they knew him, but they’d watched Ryan with nervousness and one man had appeared so terrified as soon as Ryan had mentioned Flynn’s name that he had pushed Ryan out the door of the shop and locked it until he left. It had made him sure that his father must be somewhere nearby so he searched In bars, and back-alleys and everywhere he could think of. He had been relieved when four men had cornered him in an alley and told him they’d heard he has been asking around for their boss. One of them had left bruises on his arm from dragging him along, but it hardly mattered anymore.

His voice was hopeful as he asked, “You’re Mister Gideon Flynn?”

[troylus]

Flynn scowled at he boy. What treachery is this? Who sent him looking for me? he thought, keeping his thoughts to himself. The anger and suspicion he let spill freely from his body language and facial expression, however.

“Who told you my name, boy?” He barely suppressed a snarl, hoping to scare the boy into spilling who had sent him so deep into the lion’s den. If lies came from the boy’s mouth he’d enjoy removing some of those teeth from his pretty-boy face.

Ryan flinched slightly in the face of so much anger, “I...nobody told me. S’written down.” He fumbled in his pocket, searching for the certificate that he carried everywhere with him. He pulled it out and smoothed out the creases against his thigh before extending it to Flynn. “I’m Ryan.” His hand trembled slightly with nerves, making the paper waver in the air.

Flynn stared at the piece of paper for a long time, as if it might be contaminated in some way. He leaned forward and snatched it from the boy’s fingers
Ryan flinched slightly, “Careful. S’the only copy.”

Flynn ignored him, his hazel eyes quickly scanning the page. His cold, controlled anger started to slip away as he read. It had to be a forgery. He snapped the lamp on his desk on and peered at the document under the harsh light, trying to find a flaw in the watermark. How is this possible? Who would do this? Flynn’s mind reeled.

Ryan licked his lips, and launched into the speech he’d been preparing for the last few weeks. “See, that’s my name there, Ryan. An’ if you’re Mister Gideon Flynn, then that’s your name there. Says you’re my father. An’ my mama died a few months ago now,” he paused to swallow shakily, that loss still hurting. “There weren’t no room for me at the orphanage, so they said I could leave an’ try an’ find you.” He grinned at Flynn hopefully, “An’ I did.”

Flynn’s gaze darted between the birth certificate and the boy’s face. He HAS to be lying. But this woman’s name, it does seem familiar. He looked at the date on the document and it all came back to him. She’d been a pretty and compliant young woman, and he’d enjoyed the time they spent together. All the fun had gone when she announced she was with child and became all clingy and cloying, wanting Flynn to marry her of all things. He looked back at the boy and realised why he looked familiar; he had his mother’s eyes and mouth. Oh shit.

[meerclar]

Flynn slowly folded the document and slid it into his desk drawer, locking it and slipping the key into his jacket pocket. “Well, Mr Kelisar, it seems you have found me. Now what?”

“S’very nice t’ meet you, Father, I-”

Flynn cut him off with a loud cough. “No, we’ll have none of that. You may call me…” He paused to think about what would work best. The other children he trained called him Uncle Flynn. It seemed odd for this boy to call him that, when he was an actual blood relation, but if he called him something else everyone who heard it would wonder why.

“Dad?” Ryan had been planning on launching straight into his plans for Flynn to take in him and his three sisters, so they could all be a family, but Flynn’s obvious lack of joy at this reunion made him pause and reconsider. Obviously it was a shock to suddenly find out you had a son. His father would just need some time to get to know Ryan first, to grow to love him, before Ryan would mention the girls.



“Heavens no, that’s even worse. Be quiet while I think.” Flynn hadn’t known his own father at all, so he was a bit at a loss as to how it was done. “You can call me sir. Or Mister Flynn. Never mention my first name if you know what’s good for you, hear me, boy?” He raised his hand to make his point extra clear.

Ryan, used to threats like this, knew exactly what was good for him and he nodded quickly, flinching back from Flynn’s raised hand, “Yes sir. I understand. Um...can I have my certificate back please?”

[troylus]

Flynn patted the key in his pocket. “It’s safely locked away. Now tell me, your mother died? What of?” Flynn scanned the boy looking for signs of infectious spots or lesions in case it was contagious. He scolded himself silently for not checking that earlier.

Ryan shrugged, feeling unhappy at the memory, “She just got sick. Doctor came but he said there weren’t nuthin’ we could do but make her comfortable.”

“And you, are you in good health?” Flynn stood and started around the desk towards the boy, slowly, wanting to hear the answer before he got too close.

“Yeah,” Ryan assured Flynn, “Ain’t nuthin’ wrong with me. They checked us all before we could live in the orphanage.”

Flynn stood in front of him, pinning his head with one hand while using his thumb on the other to peel back the boy’s upper lip and look at his teeth. “All?”

Ryan flinched at Flynn’s hand and tried to squirm away, but Flynn had had practise and just gripped harder until Ryan stopped resisting with a little whimper. When Flynn was satisfied that Ryan’s teeth were in good condition, an excellent marker of good health, he released him, wiping his wet fingers on the boy’s shirt. “Checked you all?” he repeated, demanding an answer with his tone.

[meerclar]

Ryan had daydreamed about his father for most of his life. Who he was, what kind of man he might be. Since he’d started searching he'd imagined this first meeting in a hundred different ways. None of them had involved being grabbed and having his teeth checked as though he was livestock. He shrugged sullenly, displeased, “Just meant they check all the kids there. S’all”

Flynn eyed him suspiciously. “Watch your attitude, boy.” He sat back down at his desk. “Where is your mother’s will?”

“Don’t think there was one. Wasn’t nuthin’ of value an’ she never talked about no family. Dunno why she didn’t tell me to find you though.”

Flynn arched an eyebrow suspiciously. This boy probably has all the money he inherited hidden in some hole in the ground. The woman he remembered had been a poor, simple creature, if he recalled her correctly, but still for them both to have survived this long there had to be some money somewhere. Her family must have supported her, even if she never told the boy about them. “Why should I take you in if you’re penniless? Where is the profit in that for me?”

Ryan’s jaw dropped and he blinked stupidly at Flynn for a moment, his brow furrowed with confusion. Was his father making a joke? He felt a nasty crawling sensation up his spine and took a step backwards. “Profit? But, I’m your son. I ain’t got nowhere else to go. I’m gonna come live with you now.”

Flynn scrunched up his face like he’d just bitten into a rather nasty lemon. “I don’t really see how that’s my problem.”

All the hope Ryan had been carrying around for weeks dropped away. He felt the loss of his mother again as if she’d only just died. He’d been pinning everything on finding this man, and now he wasn’t even wanted. His father was nothing like Ryan had imagined, like he desperately needed him to be. He sank his teeth into his lower lip and tried to pull himself together. He reminded himself that Flynn had just had this news dumped on him with no warning. He might be mourning for Ryan’s mother. People in pain often said things they didn’t mean. Ryan took a deep breath and tried not to take the rejection personally. “I’m sure, once you get to know me, you’ll real like me, sir. I’m a hard worker an’...I been lookin’ for you for so long now.”

[troylus]

“I doubt I’m your father,” Flynn lied smoothly. “Your mother probably just heard my name somewhere and put it on your birth certificate on a whim.”

“She never would!” Ryan objected fiercely, his chin suddenly in the air with indignation. “My mama never lied about things. If she said you’re my father, then you are! An’ if you don’t like it...then I can go, but it don’t change nuthin’. You’re still who she said you are.”

Normally such blatant insubordination from one of the children would have resulted in a beating so severe the child may not live the week out. But something in the boy’s manner and fire reminded him of himself at that age, when he was still on the streets and had to fight for every scrap and bone to stay alive. It was that same determination that had allowed Flynn to build his criminal empire out of that cesspool he’d started life in. “What are you good at?” He’d get the boy’s opinion now and then run him through a series of tests to ascertain all of his strengths and weaknesses.

Startled by the abrupt change in the conversation, Ryan hesitated and shrugged, “I’m good at runnin’. I’m the fastest. I can climb an’ hide. An’ …” he paused before adding, “I’m good at lookin’ after little kids.”

“Fight?” Flynn showed all of his teeth in a sadistic smile, “Kill?”

“What?! No! I ain’t killed nobody.”

Flynn beckoned the boy over to him, and Ryan reluctantly shuffled closer. Flynn beckoned again, until the boy was almost leaning over the desk to get to Flynn. He swallowed nervously, unsure if he was about to get a beating, but unwilling to walk away from this man who was his father. Flynn reached up and ruffled the boy’s blonde hair affectionately, “Good lad, that’s just what you say if the peacekeepers or anyone else asks you that.”

[meerclar]

The praise was like a beacon in the dark, and Ryan felt himself relax, as though he had passed some test he hadn’t even known he was taking. “S’the truth, sir. I try an’ avoid fights if I can. I thought, maybe I could get a job as a messenger?’

Flynn silently agreed with the boy. Once it came to a physical fight the competition was down to raw muscle. There was little room for the out maneuvering, and outsmarting one’s opponent that Flynn thrived on. “Messenger? That might work.” Flynn scanned him again, “How fast did you say you could run?”

“Fast as you like, sir.” Ryan grinned, sure of himself now, “Doubt you got anyone who can catch me.”

Flynn rubbed his hands together slowly, considering the possibilities. Ryan might make an excellent courier. Few people suspected a child as innocent and wide eyed as Ryan to be carrying anything illicit. “Let’s play a little game shall we?” Flynn lead Ryan into his training facility where the other children were packing away for the day.

He called to the children and they hurried over, furtively glancing at the new arrival amongst them. “This is Ryan. He reckons he’s fast. If you catch him, hit him with your wooden training swords. Begin!” With that the children raced to collect their weapons. One who already had his to hand pounced at Ryan with alarming force.

Ryan frowned at Flynn, “Huh?” A second later he yelped as a wooden sword collided with his shoulder.

“You might want to run, boy,” Flynn said paternally, as if giving helpful, sagely advice.

Ryan ducked a second swing from the sword, glanced at the swarm of children running towards him and took off like a shot across the room. His legs pumped furiously and he didn’t waste time looking over his shoulder.

Flynn took a pocket watch from his waistcoat and timed his son as he raced between the balancing beams and wooden fighting dummies. He WAS fast, and Flynn smiled to himself. This little addition to his collection might be profitable after all.

[troylus]

By the time Flynn had finished his battery of tests Ryan was feeling pretty worn out, both physically and mentally. Flynn was sparing with his praise, and kept his thoughts to himself, but he was deeply impressed. The boy could run like the wind, and he had a strange sort of optimism that allowed him to not get downhearted when Flynn pulled mean tricks on him, even when he made the tests downright unfair, the boy just seemed to keep trying and look to him with that sickeningly trusting big smile on his doe-like face.

“That’ll do for now, I suppose.” Flynn knew the boy must be desperately thirsty by now. He was sweating heavily but Flynn had kept on with the testing, almost purely out of spite, wanting to wipe that ridiculous optimism off his son’s face. His son. It was the strangest thought Flynn had ever mulled on.

Flynn lifted a pitcher of water from a barrel he kept at the end of the training area. “What do you call me?” The other children were still watching but from the other end of the room and Flynn was confident they couldn’t hear what he and Ryan were saying.

Ryan had half-collapsed gratefully against the wall as soon as Flynn had called enough, but he perked up when he saw the water in Flynn’s hand and shot his father a grateful grin. “Ummm, Mister Flynn? Or Sir?” He hoped he’d remembered right, desperately wanting to impress this man.

Flynn nodded sternly. If the boy had gotten it incorrect he’d planned on drinking it slowly himself and then sending him to bed without any. But it was the right answer. So he’s not as stupid as his mother was, as I recall her. Nor as stupid as he looks. Flynn extended his arm towards the boy, making Ryan do the work of walking over to get it.

Ryan practically scampered to Flynn, reaching eagerly for the drink, “Thanks. M’real thirsty.” He drank the water without pause, panting a little breathlessly when he finally finished. “I gotta go for a bit, but I can come back tomorrow.”

Flynn raised one eyebrow in question. “Go?”

[meerclar]

“Back to the orphanage. To tell them I found you.” He laughed with amusement, “Can’t just not go back, can I?” He found himself strangely hesitant still to tell Flynn about his sisters. He wanted them here with him, but he wanted to be sure that they would be safe. He had assumed that he would live with his father at his home, and the girls would live there too, but this compound full of thugs and strange parentless children was unsettling.

Flynn hesitated for a moment, disliking the idea of letting the boy leave. He kept his charges under lock and key, even after years when he knew they could be trusted as he’d properly broken them in, like a comfortable pair of leather shoes. But he didn’t want the authorities looking for Ryan either. It was better to put their minds at rest. “Can you read?”

“Yes, Sir. Of course. I learned at school.” He frowned as a thought occurred to him. None of the other children here looked familiar at all, “I ain’t gonna have to change schools, am I?”

Flynn waved a hand uncaringly. “I home school you all. It’s fine.” He walked to his office without a word, assuming Ryan would follow him.

Ryan did, dragging his feet slightly, unable to shake the uneasy feeling he’d had the whole time since meeting Flynn. “I kinda thought I’d still be going to the same school, Sir. I got...friends there an’ stuff.”

Flynn waited until he was sitting at his desk to answer the boy. “Friends are just people waiting to be exploited by you. You will have all the friends you need here.” He wrote a short letter, detailing how happy he was to be reunited with his son, and wrote a fake address on the letter. He read it aloud to Ryan slowly and clearly so that the boy would remember it before sealing it in an envelope.

Unsure that he’d understood correctly, Ryan frowned and pondered Flynn’s words from before the letter, “Don’t plan on exploitin’ anyone, Sir. I guess, if I gotta do school here, I can go just visit with them. Maybe, every other day would be enough.”

“Orphans or children that you grew up with, along with your destitute single mother? What possible advantage could we wring from them?”

Ryan was feeling slightly desperate now, unsure if he was explaining poorly, or if Flynn really was being as heartless as he sounded. “Please, Sir. I just really do need to go visit them, s’all. I won’t go anytime I’m supposed to be doin’ school. Just in my free time.”

[troylus]

Flynn slammed his fist on the desk, making all the items on it shake with the force of the blow. He was not used to being negotiated with by one of the children. This is what comes of coddling them when they’re small, making them feel loved and cared about. Makes them have airs. Flynn sneered, revolted at the thought of children being loved into a state of weakness. “There is no ‘free time’. All your time, is MY time, and you are wasting it right NOW.” His tone made Ryan flinch and pull away.

Flynn called for one of his goons and handed the burly man the letter. “Take this boy to the orphanage. He’ll direct you there. Give them this letter, take his stuff, especially any documents of his mother's or what have you. And bring him back here, no diversions.” He pointed at Ryan menacingly, “You don’t tell them a word contrary to that letter, you hear me boy?”

[meerclar]

Ryan scowled unhappily. He wanted to be with his father. He was sure that given time, the man would come to love him. He was his son, after all. But there was no way he could leave his sisters. Flynn wouldn’t let him out to see them, but if he didn’t live with Flynn, they were going to send him away to the other side of the district. He toyed with the idea of telling Flynn that it was his sisters that he wanted to visit, but Flynn’s anger was a bit fresh, and he wanted to give his father time to grow to love him before asking that he take his sisters as well. It occurred to Ryan that as long as the orphanage THOUGHT that he was living with Flynn, then they would let him visit, and wouldn’t send him away. He just had to deliver Flynn’s letter, and then run off and find somewhere else to live. He nodded to Flynn slowly, his expression clearing, “Yes, Sir. S’clear.”

[troylus]

Flynn watched his son closely, pondering on what was going on in his mind. He turned back to his henchman, “Ask the staff who Ryan is friends with there, who he cares about and spends his time with.” He smiled at Ryan cruelly, “That way I’ll know who you’ll miss and who you wouldn’t want to see come to any harm.”

Had Flynn just threatened his sisters? Ryan felt a coldness in the pit of his stomach. Running away suddenly wasn’t an option. He glanced at the henchman, and back at Flynn, then slumped his shoulders in defeat. “Alright...I ain’t told you the whole truth. I just weren’t sure I could trust you, you know?”

In any other conversation this would be the point at which Flynn procured a few scalpels and other torture equipment. It irked him that his own flesh and blood would be...what? Different? Complicated? Would I care? I’m not that weak, am I? He sent the huge muscle bound man from the room, having him close the door, before telling Ryan, as calmly as he could to go on. “You can trust me.”

[meerclar]

Ryan nodded slowly, hoping it was true. “S’not friends. I got little sisters. I gotta take care of them, but the orphanage can’t keep me. I gotta stay close, so I can keep an eye on them. You know what it’s like, right? Wantin’ to look after your family.” He attempted a bright hopeful smile at Flynn, “Maybe you should meet them. They’re real sweet an’ we could be a family.”

For a brief moment Flynn was in a panic that he had a handful of other children as well as the one standing before him. But he quickly realised that wasn’t possible. No, Ryan’s mother must have slept around after he abandoned her. The look on Ryan’s face made him realise he had to tread carefully here if he wanted to make his life easier. Ryan seemed to have inherited a touch of Flynn’s own stubbornness, and it would be terribly time consuming to beat this brotherly concern out of the boy. By this age, Flynn wasn’t even certain it could be done. Ryan might care about his sisters forever. This situation called for honey, not vinegar.

[troylus]

“I’m sure they are just…” Flynn struggled with this persona of caring fatherly man for a moment. He was used to wearing a costume that made him look like a jolly old man while he pretended this sort of caring attitude, but he slipped into the role after a moment anyway. “adorable. I’d so like to meet them too.” He stood, tugging on a large fur coat around his shoulders. He kept his arms out for easy access to his various weapons secreted about his body.

Ryan beamed with pleasure, his relief totally sweeping away his misgivings. He was suddenly certain that Flynn had just been nervous about being a father. He felt silly for doubting and keeping his sisters hidden all day. His voice was bubbly with joy, “Really? I know you’ll just love them. They’re real polite an’ quiet. No trouble at all.”

Flynn wasn’t really listening anymore. He was trying to think of the best way of dealing with the situation to his own advantage.