Maverick Maddox // Male// 18// Dauntless Born // Instructor
Interacting With: Randi Sanctuaryforall1
Maverick had not slept that night. It was hard to imagine himself ever sleeping again. So much of his reality had been warped in a single moment, this one cataclysmic moment would alter his life forever. He was numb. As vivid as the images were in his mind, he hadn't processed them, hadn't accepted them as truth yet, couldn't believe them even as he was signing Caspian's death certificate. His deft fingers gently gripped the ball point pen as he robotically wrote his barely legible signature. His eyes were glassed over, emotionless. Should he have been angry? After all, the coroner had ruled that Caspian had not died of natural causes. The tiny abrasion on his brother's neck had waved all the red flags. A pin prick. The mark of a needle. He had been injected with something, though his autopsy had not revealed any alarming substances. And yet, murder was still printed in bold ink on the piece of paper. Caspian had been murdered. Maybe if Maverick had had the courage to be a part of his older brother's life then he would've had the slightest inkling as to who would've wanted to kill him. Who would've wanted the golden boy, the shining heir to the Maddox family name gone?
By the time Maverick had arrived at the apartment, he was almost certain that he would find both Caspian and Ghost asleep, that he would spend yet another night on that uncomfortable couch that wasn't quite long enough for Maverick to stretch out on. Instead, he had found his brother's body on the floor. Caspian's skin was pale, his lips a sickening shade of blue, his grey eyes shut forever. Maverick didn't have to feel for a pulse to know that the eldest Maddox boy was dead. His knees had given out beneath him before he could even shut the door, his body crumpling against the wall as his ears began to ring. The taste of bile stung in the back of his throat... what was this feeling? It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness or grief... Maverick was... scared. A feeling that was foreign and unwelcome to him, his heartbeat was uneven, his knees and fingers felt like jelly, his head was spinning, his mouth was dry. "Caspian..." he knew his brother could not, and never would hear his choked whisper. It was more an expression of shock than anything else. Maverick's blood was ice, as he fumbled into his pocket, his fingers shaking as they struggled to dial the correct number. He didn't know how long he had waited there on the floor for the ambulance to arrive. Whether it had been minutes or hours. All Maverick knew was that by the time the paramedics walked in, he still hadn't bothered to shut the door. He hadn't been able to tear his eyes away from his brother's corpse.
A voice pulled him back into reality. "Sir...?" A young nurse who had clearly been trying to get his attention was looking at him expectantly. "What?" Maverick didn't mean for his voice to sound as disinterested as it did. "This was found among your brothers things.... all the rest is being kept as evidence for the investigation. If you've finished signing the paperwork you're free to go." Her slim fingers gently slid a beat up, silver, cell phone across the counter towards Maverick. It must've belonged to Caspian. He tilted his head, staring at it as if it were a foreign object, before exhaling heavily and reaching for the phone, tucking it into his pocket. Free to go. As if Maverick had only been here for a yearly check up, like he could just go about his normal day after everything that had happened. Earlier in the night that same nurse had commended Maverick for how calm he was throughout the endeavor. Maverick didn't know what he was, but he definitely wasn't calm. Perhaps his lack of tears had led her to come to such a conclusion. Maverick had not allowed himself a single moment of vulnerability. His cheeks eerily dry. He hadn't yet felt the urge to cry, the burning feeling in the back of his throat was something he associated with his childhood, something he felt was no longer appropriate for a grown man such as himself.
Maverick paused mid step, his steely grey eyes suddenly snapping to attention as he saw an all too familiar face. She was not quite concealed through the small window in her hospital room door. He cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head as he inched closer towards the door. He knew he should’ve kept walking, shouldn’t have intruded, should’ve just stayed out of it, and yet his hand was reaching out for the handle of the door before he could stop himself. Like a well-trained thief, Maverick slipped out of the hallway and into the room, standing there with his hands in his pockets as his eyes looked over the sleeping form of Brandish Rose. His ears pricked at the sound of a steady, high pitched, beeping. Randi was covered by a blanket, no wounds immediately visible to Maverick. Her blonde mane framed her soft, angelic features. Even though she seemed quite pale, her cheeks were still rosy, her long, dark eyelashes fluttered in her sleep and Maverick began to remember a long-forgotten crush he had harbored for the girl when had had been just a boy. Randi had always been too dauntless for her own good, he had almost no doubt that was how she ended up in the hospital.
As if sensing him in the room, the blonde’s eyes soon flicked open and Maverick felt a heat rise to his cheeks as she stared at him, her large ocean eyes sparkling in the florescent lighting of the hospital room. She seemed understandably confused. Maverick cleared his throat and forced a weak smile as he held his hands up as if to show he was no threat to her. “Don’t worry, the nurses already informed me I wasn’t qualified enough to perform your surgery.” He joked softly, before his gaze softened. Randi seemed like she was struggling to sit up and Maverick shook his head, taking another step forward as if to discourage her from exerting herself. “What are you doing here?” he asked gently, instantly regretting the words. He should’ve known better and remembered who he was talking to. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the blonde retorted back with a tilt of her head that she could ask him the same question. Maverick inhaled deeply, his voice unwavering and almost disturbingly monotone as he answered, “Caspian’s dead…I found his body a few hours ago.” Randi’s features immediately morphed from her normal sassy demeanor into a shocked and sympathetic look. She looked like she was about to speak some words of comfort, attempt to console Maverick and make him feel better, but the older boy was not having any of that as his body immediately stiffened. “I uh…. I actually need to get going.” He paused, trying to think of some sort of excuse, but giving up when he realized he didn’t care enough to worry about proper bedside manner. “Feel better, Randi.” His boots thudded gently on the tiled floor as he made his way silently out of the small room and back into the empty hallway. It wasn’t until the door shut behind him that he realized he still had no idea what Randi was doing in the hospital. He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck from side to side as he continued making random lefts and rights until he found what looked like an exit.
This wasn’t the way Maverick had entered the building, but it was a way out. Maverick was light on his feet as he slipped out of the back door, hoping that he wouldn’t accidentally trigger some sort of alarm. He let out a breath he hadn’t even known he had been holding when the door opened silently, taking his first deep breath of fresh air as he made his way outside. It was getting light out, but it was still early enough in the morning that shadows provided ample space to hide. So… what did he do now? Return to training? Just…. Go home? He couldn’t fathom the idea of just returning to his normal routine as if nothing had changed when everything had. He was beginning to spiral, his breaths coming in raggedy and shaky as his hands slowly began to clench into fists. He had felt nothing for so long that now he was beginning to feel too much. Angry tears pricked at his eyes, his rage beginning to overtake any sadness that was attempting to make itself known.
Suddenly, Maverick let out a throaty growl as his fist slammed into the door of a nearby car. The cheap metal crumpling and leaving a fist sized dent on the side of the black car. Immediately, the car alarm went off. The loud sound of the horn blaring rhythmically in his ear made him want to punch the car again. He wound up for another punch but his fist came to an abrupt halt as he saw what he swore was Caspian staring at him through the driver’s side window. “Cas…” Maverick paused, before swallowing hard. Blinking his grey eyes as he slowly began to realize that he was not staring at a resurrected Caspian, but his own reflection. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair tussled and messy, his grey v-neck wrinkled under his leather jacket. He looked like a mess. It reminded him of the days he used to spend down in the pits, when a fight was the only way to pay for food in his belly, and a good shower was a swim in the river. The pits… that’s where Maverick needed to go. He needed to forget about everything, even just for a day. He wanted to be deep down in the caves where the sunlight would not reach him and the loud thrumming of music would drown out all the other noise in his head. With a half-assed plan, Maverick stalked off into the shadows, heading in the direction of the chasm where the entrance to the pits hid, the car alarm slowly fading into the background as he walked in the direction of his past.