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Headgames, Part 2.; Or, Maggie's inability to focus on anything.
Topic Started: May 15 2016, 04:48 PM (22 Views)
Maggie McIntyre
The Banshee of HATE
The ride back from Concord had been uncomfortably silent for Michael Draven.

His girlfriend, riding shotgun in his black jeep, had spent most of the drive to Boston looking out of the window. In her opinion, he’d been stupid and gotten himself disqualified, thus allowing Calder to advance and face her. He had the man dead to rights, he could have beaten him...but he let his temper get the better of him. Playing right into her boogeyman’s hand. The younger of the Dravens could not see the forest for the trees, it was why he’d fallen for Haven’s deceptions twice. He let himself get too distracted by the here and now, rather than the future plans.

Maggie was unhappy and cried silently.

She didn’t know why Indrid Calder scared her so much. She didn’t know why a man like him played such a prominent role in so many of her nightmares, but Maggie didn’t like it.

When he pulled the Jeep up in front of his duplex, Maggie was the first one out of the car and pulling her duffel bag from the back. Walking away from his home to go back to her own apartment, even though it wasn’t safe for her there. Calder could pop out of any alley and take her for himself, regardless of how much she fought back. Her fear had long since turned to anger, at least when it came to her boyfriend.

“Maggie, wait.” He hurried toward her, catching up quickly thanks to the slight limp she still had from the knee injury. “I know you’re pissed. I’m sorry. We can get through this, though.”

The rookie whipped around, nailing him in the stomach with her heavy duffel. Her pretty features wrenched in anger, and her voice broke repeatedly as she spoke. “Yeah, you’re fucking sorry! You got yourself disqualified and now I have to face him!” The bag wouldn’t do much to him. Michael Draven was solid, despite shit lifestyle choices the past ten years. Her knee was still aching. “I can’t fucking sleep at night because of him...and now I have to face him in the ring!”

“I know that, and I’m sorry. But…” Draven ran his head through his stringy hair. He knew the next words out of his mouth might not be taken well, but she needed to hear them. “You wanted me to cave his face in. I beat the man repeatedly with a chair. Did I want this to happen? No, but...you’ve got to face him, Maggie. He’s never going to stop tormenting you - in your dreams or reality - until you do.”

“I didn’t ask you to beat his face in with a chair!”

She dropped the bag and pushed at him, “Nightmares don’t stop just because you confront them, Mike.” Maggie sneered at him, baring her teeth. “Did Haven stop just because you confronted him? No, he didn’t. He’s still on the warpath to ruin your life, along with his bitch...and anyone else who happens to be in his path.”

The rookie took a step back, picking up her bag before catching his eyes with her own dark brown. “You know as well I as I do that Calder doesn’t stop just because you beat the shit out of him, look at how well that plan worked out for Dredd.” She angrily wiped at the burning tears that started to fall, frustrated with herself because she didn’t know what to do now.

“And did you think my beating him would stop him, Maggie? He’s...I don’t even know what he is. I told you what happened out in Arizona.” The younger Draven shook his head. The events of the afternoon in Nothing - Calder’s “hometown”, if it could even be called that - felt like a dream to him….but he knew they weren’t. “I know you’re upset, I know you’re pissed at me, and I understand. But Maggie….me beating him wouldn’t have stopped anything. He’s latched onto you, for some twisted reason...and we have to find a way to stop him.”

Maggie took a deep breath, frowning up at him. She couldn’t stop herself from crying, no matter how mad she was with him...or herself. She had been counting on the younger Draven brother beating Calder, simply so they could face each other. It would be a lot easier to face Mike...than Indrid-fucking-Calder.

Another deep breath before she stepped forward, hiding her face in his shirt. “I don’t know how to stop him, but it was nice to see you beat his face in.”

He smiled in spite of her anger. “It was nice to do it. We’ll figure this out, Maggie...together. I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself with this guy.”

He was concerned, though. Concerned about what would happen when Calder was finished with “his monster”, the seven footer that called himself Dredd.

Concerned about what would happen when Calder devoted his full attention to Maggie McIntyre.

-----

“You know, Maggie, most of my clients find that seeing me with regularity helps more with their problems than only making appointments when things are truly out of their control.” Priscilla Metaj leaned back in her seat, smiling as she crossed one shapely leg over the other and rested her clipboard on her knee. “It’s been two months since you’ve been here and you call my office requesting the earliest possible appointment. What’s going on?”

The rookie pushed her long black locks out of her eyes, looking up at the therapist with some measure of disdain.

“Sorry, I’m not one for doctors, really and I’ve had a lot going on. I only called because Mike went out of town and I needed to talk to someone...and this isn’t something I can talk to my dad about.”

“I understand, so why don’t we talk about Mike? You’re back together, I presume?”

“For the most part, he had a big revelation, I guess...and he’s been sweet and supportive, even though I yelled at him last night. We had a fight and he flew out to Tokyo this morning for some event with his brother.” Maggie glanced down to the floor, “His fucking asshole rival had some creepy fuck drug me in Mexico during the pay-per-view and they took a whole bunch of lewd shots of me between them…”

Priscilla could only nod for the younger woman to continue as she wrote down a few notes.

“And now that crap is all over the internet, but Mike won back control of the company along with his brother and--”

“Maggie, did you go to the police about what they did to you?” The therapist interrupted.

She shook her head. There hadn’t been any point. The drugs had been out of her system and the photos leaked through an anonymous source, the Havens had claimed someone stole a camera from the Youth bus and everything had been consensual. Or something like that. Most of it was still a blur.

“I can’t prove any of it anyway. There’s no point. They’d just find some other way to get to me. They’re the kind of people you have to beat at their own game. I don’t really want to talk about it.” She sighed, looking to the floor again. Eye contact with this woman was just uncomfortable.

“Then let’s talk about something else. How are you sleeping these days?” Priscilla wrote something on her chart before glancing back up to Maggie.

“I’m not, really.”

“The medication isn’t helping?”

“No, it is...most days, but it doesn’t stop the nightmares.” Her dark eyes went back to the therapist.

Priscilla was suddenly curious, “What do you dream about most, Maggie?”

The rookie was quiet for a moment, contemplating the question and remembering the most recent dream.

“A man with pale skin and knife-blue eyes.”

“And what happens in these dreams?”

Maggie finally looked up, clearly frightened, “Whatever he wants.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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