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fey_fireTakes place immediately after this post.
He nearly wiped out his bike taking a turn too sharply on the way to Pippa's. Under normal circumstances, Rory might have admitted that Morrie had a point about someone else taking him home. But normal had ceased to exist, and the images planted in his mind spurred him to drive even faster. He parked his bike in Pippa's spot on arrival and took the stairs three at a time.
Tadhg turned as he burst through the door, púca eyes showing glints that owed nothing to the room lighting. "Good," he husked. "Over here. I'm ready for you."
"You've found the place?" Rory's long legs carried him to the dining table in two strides.
"I'm about to. You're the final link." Holding his hands out palm-up, Tadhg brought the spiral-and-knotwork tattoos on his palms to the surface, lines unfolding on his skin. "I need everything you picked up from him at the club. All of it."
He blanched at those scenes of brutality, and still more at the thought of inflicting them on his brother. "Jesus, Tadhg--"
"All of it," Tadhg snapped. "Rory, we've got no time. He's leading Anraí a chase right now, or thinks he is, but I've no clue how long that will last. This is the quickest way."
He thought of Pippa, and Larch's intentions. He swallowed and placed his palms over Tadhg's, naked skin contacting the energy-sensitive ink.
Confusion swirled through them at first, a surge of all the thoughts and will focused on him at Last Call that night. Then dark appeared, followed by blood and crying and hot, hot rage, high ceilings dark hallways screams stairs monitors and soundsystems stench of death begging walls covered in plastic bags knives plate with an ear tears running running nooo no cables speakers everywhere everyroom sound no escape why bloodspatters god help me filth rot once women chill cold pounding water tub Pippa Pippa PIPPA--!!!
Someone cried out. His eyes snapped open to find himself on the floor once more, he and Tadhg shaking, driven to their knees by the cataract. But this floor was half-tiled ... a doorway ... running water ...
Even as Rory looked up to see the bathtub with its blood-speckled curtain, his legs were already driving him to his feet. Behind him Tadhg was slower to rise, fighting the same retching nausea that had claimed his brother on stage, but Rory had eyes only for the still form revealed when he yanked the plastic to one side. "Pippa--" Battered, covered in welts and bruises, waxy skin pulled too tight over the bones of her face, hair shorn, lips bluish, one hand maimed. But Pippa. "Oh God, sweet, please ..."
He dove to slide one arm around her shoulders, taking no notice of the stinging shower spray nor Tadhg staggering up to turn it off. Vibrating with emotions from a hundred sources, he fought to calm himself, to read her with both mystic senses and two fingers laid against her marked throat. "Íosa Chríost," he nearly sobbed. "Tadhg, she's alive!"
"Blessed be," Tadhg rasped. "Here--" He'd somehow located two clean towels. Carefully he helped Rory wrap them around Pippa's too-limp body, then even more carefully helped to lift her into her love's arms. "She needs help before we can take her out of here. Follow me."
His little brother somehow led the way to the nearest couch in what looked more or less like a living room. Some part of Rory's brain registered the plastic bags and newspaper clippings lining the walls, but the weak tremors running up and down Pippa's body commanded his attention. He unbuttoned his shirt and pressed her close against his chest, willing warmth into her as he reached inside with tendrils of his own energy to encourage her damaged body to heal.
"Here, let me," Tadhg murmured, moving his hands slowly over Pippa's torso to offer support and guidance in dealing with the deeper hurts. Fey healing was no instant panacea, even with the amount of energy Rory had stored up from Last Call. Used recklessly it could cause as much stress to a weakened body as the original trauma and damage the healer as well. So they coaxed her thready heartbeat to strengthen, persuaded the bruises on her internal organs to fade, and gently eased her out of the grip of severe shock, leaving more superficial injuries for later.
"Anraí?" he asked after a while.
"Still following ... Larch. That's the name he's using, isn't it?" Tadhg sat back, eyes abruptly intent on ... something. "We have a little time yet, which I'd best use for one more task. Be right back."
Rory nodded as he left the room, too absorbed in the hint of normal color returning to Pippa's cheeks to care overmuch what Tadhg was about. But minutes later the grey pallor on his little brother's face yanked him straight out of his preoccupation. "What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, Tadhg walked to a wall and pulled down one of the plastic bags hanging there When he returned to the couch and braced his hands on the back, breathing deeply, Rory could see the contents: a picture of a terrified Pippa and the clothes and jewellry she'd been wearing when she was taken. Less her skirt.
Rory slowly raised his eyes to the ranks of plastic, their full import sinking in. Each bag a woman. Each bag a victim. Each bag, presumably, a corpse. "There are dozens of them."
"I'd hoped at least part of what you got from his mind was some kind of sick delusion or dream." Tadhg sounded hollow. Drained. "It ... wasn't. Isn't. All very real." He scrubbed both hands over his face, clearly trying to come back to himself. "But I've destroyed or removed all evidence of Pippa being here, including those recordings of her voice. Can she travel yet?"
A quiet inner voice started listing all the questions Rory ought to ask about why Tadhg wanted to make sure that Pippa's presence here remained a secret. Not one made it to his lips. "She can, if we take things slowly."
"As slowly as we can. Cait's close, but I want us back here with Anraí before Larch decides to come home after all." Tadhg's jaw was set hard as ... as granite.
Back here. Back here ultimately could only mean one thing. Rory looked down at his lover and raised no objections. Instead he stood, cradling Pippa carefully as he followed Tadhg to a doorway and through, out of the noisome apartment and into the wooded borderlands of Faerie.
Tadhg's body flowed into that of a dark grey stallion who knelt to allow Rory to mount without jarring the woman in his arms. Rory sat his brother's smooth, ground-covering gait easily, holding Pippa steady until the moment they slipped back into the mortal world ...
... directly into a very familiar living room, directly in front of a wide-eyed brunette doctor. Apparently Tadhg didn't want to waste time with doors.
He nearly wiped out his bike taking a turn too sharply on the way to Pippa's. Under normal circumstances, Rory might have admitted that Morrie had a point about someone else taking him home. But normal had ceased to exist, and the images planted in his mind spurred him to drive even faster. He parked his bike in Pippa's spot on arrival and took the stairs three at a time.
Tadhg turned as he burst through the door, púca eyes showing glints that owed nothing to the room lighting. "Good," he husked. "Over here. I'm ready for you."
"You've found the place?" Rory's long legs carried him to the dining table in two strides.
"I'm about to. You're the final link." Holding his hands out palm-up, Tadhg brought the spiral-and-knotwork tattoos on his palms to the surface, lines unfolding on his skin. "I need everything you picked up from him at the club. All of it."
He blanched at those scenes of brutality, and still more at the thought of inflicting them on his brother. "Jesus, Tadhg--"
"All of it," Tadhg snapped. "Rory, we've got no time. He's leading Anraí a chase right now, or thinks he is, but I've no clue how long that will last. This is the quickest way."
He thought of Pippa, and Larch's intentions. He swallowed and placed his palms over Tadhg's, naked skin contacting the energy-sensitive ink.
Confusion swirled through them at first, a surge of all the thoughts and will focused on him at Last Call that night. Then dark appeared, followed by blood and crying and hot, hot rage, high ceilings dark hallways screams stairs monitors and soundsystems stench of death begging walls covered in plastic bags knives plate with an ear tears running running nooo no cables speakers everywhere everyroom sound no escape why bloodspatters god help me filth rot once women chill cold pounding water tub Pippa Pippa PIPPA--!!!
Someone cried out. His eyes snapped open to find himself on the floor once more, he and Tadhg shaking, driven to their knees by the cataract. But this floor was half-tiled ... a doorway ... running water ...
Even as Rory looked up to see the bathtub with its blood-speckled curtain, his legs were already driving him to his feet. Behind him Tadhg was slower to rise, fighting the same retching nausea that had claimed his brother on stage, but Rory had eyes only for the still form revealed when he yanked the plastic to one side. "Pippa--" Battered, covered in welts and bruises, waxy skin pulled too tight over the bones of her face, hair shorn, lips bluish, one hand maimed. But Pippa. "Oh God, sweet, please ..."
He dove to slide one arm around her shoulders, taking no notice of the stinging shower spray nor Tadhg staggering up to turn it off. Vibrating with emotions from a hundred sources, he fought to calm himself, to read her with both mystic senses and two fingers laid against her marked throat. "Íosa Chríost," he nearly sobbed. "Tadhg, she's alive!"
"Blessed be," Tadhg rasped. "Here--" He'd somehow located two clean towels. Carefully he helped Rory wrap them around Pippa's too-limp body, then even more carefully helped to lift her into her love's arms. "She needs help before we can take her out of here. Follow me."
His little brother somehow led the way to the nearest couch in what looked more or less like a living room. Some part of Rory's brain registered the plastic bags and newspaper clippings lining the walls, but the weak tremors running up and down Pippa's body commanded his attention. He unbuttoned his shirt and pressed her close against his chest, willing warmth into her as he reached inside with tendrils of his own energy to encourage her damaged body to heal.
"Here, let me," Tadhg murmured, moving his hands slowly over Pippa's torso to offer support and guidance in dealing with the deeper hurts. Fey healing was no instant panacea, even with the amount of energy Rory had stored up from Last Call. Used recklessly it could cause as much stress to a weakened body as the original trauma and damage the healer as well. So they coaxed her thready heartbeat to strengthen, persuaded the bruises on her internal organs to fade, and gently eased her out of the grip of severe shock, leaving more superficial injuries for later.
"Anraí?" he asked after a while.
"Still following ... Larch. That's the name he's using, isn't it?" Tadhg sat back, eyes abruptly intent on ... something. "We have a little time yet, which I'd best use for one more task. Be right back."
Rory nodded as he left the room, too absorbed in the hint of normal color returning to Pippa's cheeks to care overmuch what Tadhg was about. But minutes later the grey pallor on his little brother's face yanked him straight out of his preoccupation. "What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, Tadhg walked to a wall and pulled down one of the plastic bags hanging there When he returned to the couch and braced his hands on the back, breathing deeply, Rory could see the contents: a picture of a terrified Pippa and the clothes and jewellry she'd been wearing when she was taken. Less her skirt.
Rory slowly raised his eyes to the ranks of plastic, their full import sinking in. Each bag a woman. Each bag a victim. Each bag, presumably, a corpse. "There are dozens of them."
"I'd hoped at least part of what you got from his mind was some kind of sick delusion or dream." Tadhg sounded hollow. Drained. "It ... wasn't. Isn't. All very real." He scrubbed both hands over his face, clearly trying to come back to himself. "But I've destroyed or removed all evidence of Pippa being here, including those recordings of her voice. Can she travel yet?"
A quiet inner voice started listing all the questions Rory ought to ask about why Tadhg wanted to make sure that Pippa's presence here remained a secret. Not one made it to his lips. "She can, if we take things slowly."
"As slowly as we can. Cait's close, but I want us back here with Anraí before Larch decides to come home after all." Tadhg's jaw was set hard as ... as granite.
Back here. Back here ultimately could only mean one thing. Rory looked down at his lover and raised no objections. Instead he stood, cradling Pippa carefully as he followed Tadhg to a doorway and through, out of the noisome apartment and into the wooded borderlands of Faerie.
Tadhg's body flowed into that of a dark grey stallion who knelt to allow Rory to mount without jarring the woman in his arms. Rory sat his brother's smooth, ground-covering gait easily, holding Pippa steady until the moment they slipped back into the mortal world ...
... directly into a very familiar living room, directly in front of a wide-eyed brunette doctor. Apparently Tadhg didn't want to waste time with doors.
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no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 06:57 am (UTC)She sputtered for the length of time it took Rory to dismount the horse that was standing in the middle of the living room and then swore a bit more as that horse changed into Tadhg. It was only then that she realized what—no, who Rory was cradling in his arms.
“Where…?” She started to ask as she closed the distance between herself and the very tall young-looking man. She barely recognized Pippa as someone she was familiar with. What she did recognize was the signs of shock setting in, the external injuries and that the girl was in immediate need of medical care. “Where did you find her, how did you find her…I mean the situation she was in, how long has she been like this? Was she at all responsive…Someone call 911 and get an ambulance here! Lay her down, NOW.”
She wasn’t fooling around or giving anyone deferential treatment. She wasn’t Da’s funny, playfully sarcastic girlfriend. She was a well-trained emergency room physician and she had a severe trauma patient to handle and no resources to treat her with. “You couldn’t have TOLD me you were doing this?”
Ah, there’s some sarcasm after all.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 07:22 am (UTC)Listening to Abby fire off questions and orders, she brushes her fingers against Rory's shoulder and senses what the doctor cannot, the healing connection already in place between her brother and his lover. She also notes the worried furrow that draws Tadhg's brows together at the mention of calling 911.
Decision made, she turns the touch of her hand into a tug on Rory's sleeve. "Bring her back to my room," she says. "You can keep working there."
no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 07:39 am (UTC)As she spoke, her hand was at Pippa's neck, then her wrist...checking and rechecking her vital signs. She rubbed her knuckles over the pale girl's sternum, swore again. "Look, she barely has a pulse--it's thready at best, she isn't responding to painful stimuli--RORY!"
She barked his name when he seemed more interested in running his hands over his girlfriend than listening to her. Abby was trying to do too many things at once: assess Pippa's condition, plot a course of treatment, get these assholes to listen to her...Pippa's hand--
"Fine, I'll call them myself!" She moved off the bed and stormed out of the room, heading for the telephone in the kitchen. "Keep her flat, cover her up...and get him off of her!"
no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 08:01 am (UTC)His dark eyes hold hers as she turns to him, frustration writ plain on her face, a plea for understanding on his. "He's healing her, love. By inches it's true, but with the rest of us to help, we can bring her back. By all means he should work under your direction ... but please, let him keep working."
no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 08:20 am (UTC)She doesn't say it softly or kindly, it is as near a growl as she ever comes. She leaves him there in the hall, continues on her determined path to the phone. There are so many levels of disgust working through her that she knows she'll be seething well after she sees to Pippa's needs. Seething and if Ruairi has any sense at all, he'll give her a very wide berth.
Her hand on the receiver, Abby pauses only to order her thoughts so that she can explain to the dispatcher precisely what's needed and to asked that she be patched through to the EMTs while they are en-route. She wants to be able to give them additional treatment orders as well as ensure she can ride-along.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-31 05:47 pm (UTC)As she was no longer Da’s funny, playfully sarcastic girlfriend, he was no longer her lover's bohemian, cheerfully mellow youngest son.
"Abby, there's no one, no one in this apartment who doesn't hold Pippa's welfare as their chief concern right now," he said in a voice that made no apology for being more than a century old. "So. I have one question for you, and then if I can't answer your concerns adequately, I'll plug this phone back in and leave you to do what you feel you must." And trigger off a very long chain of consequences, but that will be as it has to be.
He leaned forward slightly, gaze still locked with hers. "What do you think Pippa needs that she's not getting right now?"
no subject
Date: 2008-09-04 08:44 pm (UTC)Abby stared up at him for a long minute. Just stared. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't...he was. "Think? How about what I know. I know she isn't being monitored by machines that let me know, as a physician, just how close to dying she is. What needs to be done to stop that from happened. I can see that she's in shock, she's dehydrated, she's covered in contusions and abrasions. God only knows what sort of internal injuries she has. For all I know she's hemorrhaging and going to bleed to death while your brother continues to do what the hell ever he's doing. She needs fluids to increase her volume, she probably needs blood too, which I can't cross, type or administer here. Pain management? Have you SEEN her hand? I don't even know where to begin but if YOU really think YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN ME...go ahead. I've only spent most of my adult life learning how to treat patients like Pippa, but go ahead Tadhg, you do it all. To hell with the little human doctor, is that it? FUCK YOU!"
She screamed the last of that before storming off towards her bedroom. She grabbed her hospital ID and her messenger bag. If he was going to get in her way here, she'd go where she could make the call without being stopped. IF they weren't going to trust her medical judgment, there was no way she was going to rely on their magic tricks. Not now. Not when that girl was going to die.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-04 11:25 pm (UTC)Even as he thought, he turned to follow her, brushing past his clearly agonized father. One last chance for understanding then. Please, please let her understand.
"Abby ..." He stopped in her doorway, feeling his heart sink at the sight of her glare and clenched fists. "We do need your help, and badly. I never meant to imply otherwise. But if Pippa goes to the hospital, she'll be plunged into a nightmare of police investigation and interrogation. We're trying to save her life while sparing her that agony on top of what she's already suffered."
He stopped, swallowed and let a gentle plea enter both his voice and eyes. "And to do that, we need all the help we can get."
no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 02:12 am (UTC)Abby didn't want to scream at him again, but God, he was wasting her time and Pippa's. "And I know the police will be involved. As much as Pippa might hate that right now, it can't be avoided. But I want the SOB that hurt her caught and prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do you know how we do that? Documentation and reports. Photographs of the injuries, medical opinions. I didn't want to say this here, to you and absolutely not to Rory, but since no one listens to me anyway--look, that guy had her for almost a week. We know he wasn't running a Holiday Inn. There are things, evidence on..." she swallowed, "...in her body, that can be collected and used to nail this fucker. Do you understand me? Make him pay for what he did to her and keep him from doing it to someone else."
She hated these cases. Always hated them. It was hard to keep emotionally distant from a patient and their families when the abused had been so broken and violated. It was seemingly impossible when it was your own family that was involved. Tadhg wasn't the only one pleading for understanding here.