Chapter Text
“Okay, so the chill looking guy with the long hair looks pretty friendly, right?” Jasper asked, motioning with his hands to mimic the guy he was talking about’s features. When Lincoln nodded, the goggled boy laughed. “Wrong. Now, he isn’t going to be the first to come after you, but he isn’t someone to take lightly. When you fuck with the family, he’s going to use that badge to come after you. Even if it means planting evidence.”
Monty cut in then. “Hey, hey, hey. That was never proven. Besides, the guy mugged Clarke when she was still getting over that broken leg, remember? Totally deserved it.”
-.-.-.-.-
Again, this was not the way Lincoln thought the night would go. No, he had just imagined a room full of pretty-much adolescents who thought of each other as family.
And he definitely hadn’t expected the guy with the easy smile and almost stupid background story to end up being a cop who would willfully get a man convicted for a crime he didn’t commit—no matter what crime he had committed.
Finn had been sent to the Marines because he’d—repeatedly—broken into schools, rec centers, etcetera to run around and put pranks in place. Though he said it was just because he was having fun, most psychologists claimed it was the only way he knew to take his mind off the fact that both his parents—whom had left him with his senile grandmother to spend their lives childless in the lap of luxury—were in prison for embezzlement and fraud. When the judge had suggested regular visits with a child psychologist, the eighteen-year-old had jumped at the chance to go into the military.
He had been denied a chance to become an MP and had joined Bellamy’s company quickly thereafter.
Though Finn and Bellamy had often butted heads on what was the morally right way to go about things, Clarke had brought them together—a very uncomfortable story Octavia had only told him because he’d pressed for the information.
Now, however, the man was seated directly across from Octavia, smiling as he told a cop joke that was probably funnier to those he wasn’t sending sneaky glares.
“So, Lincoln,” he suddenly said, grin widening though it became anything but sincere. “Octavia says that you’re a medical researcher. What are you currently looking into?”
Was that an olive branch or a loaded gun?
Clearing his throat as everyone turned their full attention on him, Lincoln shifted to sit a little taller. This was something he could talk about with every bit of his confidence; he was an awesome researcher. “Actually, I’ve been doing some trial runs with natural methods of treating patients. We’re looking into this strange new seaweed that seems to have antibiotic properties—“
“Seems being the operative word,” Clarke interrupted, raising her fork to her lips. “From what I’ve read on the subject, there is no conclusive evidence, since it’s only been used to treat fevers and minor infections. It could simply be boosting the immune system because it has necessary vitamins and minerals.”
Stunned at her knowledge of the fact, Lincoln turned his gaze on her. “Even that is important. If we allow it to mutate for a few more years, we could have an antibiotic that is abundant around the world and is fairly inexpensive—“
Her eyes narrowed as she swallowed before speaking again. Putting down her fork, she folded her hands together, elbows holding them high above her plate. “Or it could mutate into something poisonous. And if we force certain traits through the generations, it will take far too long and cost too much money to throw funding in to.”
Tensing, Lincoln couldn’t hold back his annoyance from leaking into his tone. “That’s what they said about a lot of the herbal remedies we’ve been using for years. Just because it doesn’t come out of a lab doesn’t mean it isn’t a worthwhile venture. Besides, we’ve made great strides with it since we found out about its uses.”
From the other side of the table, Lincoln heard Bellamy’s fists hit the table, his chair scraping against the floor like he was going to stand up, but it was Finn who spoke in the abrupt strained silence.
“Clarke is on her way to the head of her wing at the hospital, Lincoln,” he responded calmly, though there was something flashing in his eyes when they met the new man’s. “Believe me, if she thought it could ever be a viable choice, she would be throwing every penny of her inheritance towards it. Maybe she’s wrong, but until new facts come around, she isn’t going to change her stance on this.” There was that not-quite-genuine smile again, a chuckle on his tongue. “But if you’re right, then you get to throw it back in her face. It really is fun to do.”
Raven belted out a laugh from her spot at the table. “That’s true. She gets all flustered and then Dad over here”—her thumb jerked to her left, where Bellamy sat—“gets annoyed because he’s the only one allowed to get her flustered.”
A grunt from Bellamy, but Lincoln could feel his gaze digging into him.
“Yeah, then Finn will try to diffuse the situation by jumping off the roof,” Jasper commented from his seat across from Raven. “Sometimes he even breaks a bone. Then everyone gets a good laugh and we move on.”
Turning to his comrade, Lincoln gave a small, not-so-happy smile—more a tight-lipped gesture than anything—and didn’t say anything. Instead, he just continued eating, glancing over at Finn whenever he felt his eyes on him.
There was something in them that he couldn’t quite place, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to think about.
-.-.-.-.-
The rest of dinner, Lincoln kept quiet unless someone asked him a direct question. He noted that Monty and Jasper were a couple sheets to the wind by the time all the food was put away (the next time the goggled freak put his arm around his shoulders like they were friends was going to be the last time he had arms) and Raven had started a lively argument with Murphy, leading to Wells jumping in. Clarke and Bellamy had been the ones to—silently—clear the table, quietly chatting as they did the dishes in the kitchen afterward. Wells and Finn seemed content to play the hosts to Lincoln and Octavia, though it was still a little tense.
Finally, it was apparently time for cards. Once “Mom and Dad” reclaimed their thrones, someone brought out two identical decks and the drinking game began.
I am not sleeping here tonight, Lincoln thought to himself, hoping Octavia could read his mind even though she wasn’t even looking in his direction. Your entire family is crazy.
“Excuse me,” he said suddenly, coming to his feet with his hands on the table. When all eyes turned to him, he asked politely, “Can someone tell me where the bathroom is?” Just a couple minutes of peace; all I need is a couple minutes before I stick around for the rest of this.
Finn stood, smiling up at him. “Of course. I’ll lead you; I need to take a leak too.”
Raven and Murphy snorted while Jasper and Monty giggled something like “no homo, all bromo” under their breaths. Seriously, could these guys be any more moronic?
“Thanks,” Lincoln muttered, following Finn out of the room.
He hated being caught off guard and this whole dynamic was putting him on edge. Octavia had warned him that they weren’t exactly the nicest people, but he hadn’t expected everyone to be making fun of him and pouncing on everything he said. Seriously, what was so wrong with debating a very debatable topic—
Before Lincoln could finish that thought, Finn had strong-armed him into the bathroom, closing the door and flipping the lock.
“Shut up,” Finn said when Lincoln started to growl at him. “I’m trying to help you out here and all you’re doing is managing to piss off Bellamy. Believe me, he will make your life a living hell if you rub him the wrong way.” The smaller man’s hand suddenly fisted in the ex-SEAL’s shirt, yanking him closer to mutter, “We’re all really close; I’m sure if Octavia didn’t tell you that, the Dynamic Duo did. So here’s the deal: keep your head low, but not too low. If you’re polite to us and make Octavia happy, we won’t come after you. Then you can have all the babies you two want.
“Now, I seriously do have to piss, so get out and partake in the game before someone thinks something’s up. Consider it a peace offering,” he added, letting go of Lincoln and practically shoving him out of the bathroom.
-.-.-.-.-
“He really is a peacemaker, though,” Monty said thoughtfully, touching his finger to his chin, like he was thinking. “I mean, he’ll extend the olive branch before he decides whether to hate you or not.”