Gathering Post

[lcrpg_npc]

The Queen's official birthday celebrations might wait for the better, brighter weather of June, instead of the actual date just passed, but there was no lack of things to do in London this week, even if it was cooler and damper than the week before. St. George's day festivities were scattered throughout the city, competing with celebrations of the four hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare's death. Getting around the city could be even more difficult than usual on Sunday, with multiple streets closed off for the London marathon.

There were exhibits - everything from graphic design to a survey of Sicilian history to the influence of underwear. And the same level of diversity could be found whether you were in the mood for music, theatre, good food, or late night fun. There was something for everyone, and no matter your plans - or lack of plans - you never quite knew what you were going to find, or who might find you.



[Week long gp! Tag in, tag others, and check in daily to see who's joined in.]

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[phouka]

Phouka reached and pushed Danny's hand aside and fetched the phone himself. He didn't think to introduce himself or explain why he was being kind. He was always kind...until he wasn't.

He fussed with the phone and found the contacts, found Hex, and dialed him.

"Yeah, this is Hex," came the voice on the line.

"Hex, this is the Phouka who lives with Winter Wisp. Your friend Danny has been hurt. I will escort him to the hospital," he said quite calmly.

There was a blast of expletives that made the Phouka pull the phone away from his ear. He could tell Hex was upset. He let him rail and then brought the phone back to his ear.

"I will stay with him. I owe you a debt and this, I think, will settle that. You helped my friend and I shall help yours. I will have him taken to your hospital for care. Meet us there."

He disconnected and returned his attention to Danny.

"Please lay still," he said. "You are not well."

[london_spy]

"He was shot... He shouldn't come," Danny said quietly. "He's not well," he explained, his words slurring slightly as he fought to stay alert.

"He... I..."

Words were lost, and Danny's eyes rolled back hard as he went slightly limp.

[phouka]

The Phouka whined softly and tried desperately to staunch the flow of blood. Thankfully he heard the siren that made him want to scream in reply.

And then the ambulance pulled up and the medics stepped in to help Danny. The Phouka stood back with blood on his hands, waiting until they loaded the man in. He climbed in as well, foul as it felt to be boxed in with no fresh air.

The medics continued to work and the Phouka stood guard all the way into A&E where he kept his watch, waiting for Danny to wake.

[london_spy]

When Danny finally came around, he was in a bed, looking at a yellowed ceiling.

Nothing hurt, but he felt heavy, and as he managed to turn his head to the side he could see needles in his arm. One red, one clear... Two clear? Maybe...

His vision was still slightly blurred, and his ears felt as though they were stuffed with cotton wool. And his throat... God, his throat was so dry.

[phouka]

Hex and the Phouka were standing near the curtain, talking quietly.

"...took something from him. He was upset about it," said the Phouka.

"Did he say what it was?" Hex asked.

"No. Though I know it was not his wallet or phone. I do not know what it was."

And then the Phouka turned his head toward the bed, sensing the slight change in Danny's breathing. He left Hex to go to the man's side.

"I was afraid you might never wake," he said with genuine concern.

[london_spy]

"I don't remember falling asleep," Danny said quietly, closing his eyes, then taking a breath as he tried to sit up.

His body didn't appreciate the attempt, and he barely managed to lift his head from the pillow.

[just_hex]

"No, no, stay down," Hex said, moving to the other side of the bed. He gently took Danny's hand, the one without the needles and tubes.

"You've got a concussion and you've lost a lot of blood," he said. "Do you remember the Phouka helping you? What do you remember?" he asked, knowing memory loss was common with this sort of thing.

[london_spy]

Danny didn't know the man's name, but he nodded at the man Hex had been speaking with, then tried to touch his head.

"I- Your friend got me an ambulance. He found me after- They hit me..."

His hand went to where his necklace should have been, and suddenly it hit him hard.

"They took it," he said, his whole body shaking with the force of the sob that fought it's way out. "Hex, they took it. He's gone."

[just_hex]

Hex squeezed his hand and sorrow overtook him as he watched just how much Danny hurt.

"Oh my god," he said softly. "Danny...I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

And he was. Dreadfully sorry because he knew how much Alex meant to Danny. He could see how devastating this was.

The Phouka was unsure of what to do or what was going on, so he stood, a silent sentinel waiting for direction.

[london_spy]

Danny was silent, tears coming quietly now. His throat was too dry to allow another sob, and he felt so lost and high, aching and numb all at once.

In that moment it was as though the last threads holding his world together had come undone.

[just_hex]

The Phouka looked to Hex who gave him a nod and jutted his chin toward the door, signalling the creature could go. The Phouka bowed his head and silently left the room.

"It's alright, Danny. It'll be alright," he said quietly, bringing Danny's hand to his cheek and closing his eyes so he didn't cry as well.

[london_spy]

"No, no it isn't- It wont be," Danny said finally, his voice horse and dry. "I wanted to make his death mean something. ...I wanted to win. He deserved so much more. ...And he's gone. It's gone. I have nothing left of him. Nothing."

[just_hex]

"You've got your memories, Danny. And...and you saw what was on it, yeah? Couldn't you...I don't know, go to the press, maybe? I know you hate the press, but maybe you could make them work for you," he suggested.

[london_spy]

"I don't even know what it was. I never- It was all so beyond me," Danny admitted.

He paused then, a small grain of hope in his gut.

"That man, James. He had a copy. He made a copy. ...Hell, maybe he can get me the original back," Danny said, daring to hope for a moment.

[just_hex]

Hex didn't honestly think James would give it over, but Danny sounded so hopeful, he wasn't about to dash that.

"I could ask him. If he doesn't want to try to kill you again," he said, half joking.

[london_spy]

Right now death sounded better than failure- But he knew better than to say that out loud.

"I should have come right home," he said instead. "I was avoiding you," he confessed. "I'm such a bastard..."

[just_hex]

"Avoiding me? No, Danny, you're not a bastard. Have I done something? Whatever I've done I'll change. I don't want you to avoid coming home," he said, dreadfully concerned with what he must have done wrong.

[london_spy]

"No, no you didn't... You haven't done anything. I'm just- I dunno. I was just feeling overwhelmed."

Even now, Hex's desperate need to change or apologize, it was overwhelming. People didn't bend to him, people didn't chase him. Danny had always been on the other side, and though it seemed like such a stupid thing to be upset about, he didn't know how to behave or feel now that he was the one who was wanted- Especially after everything he'd been through.

[just_hex]

"I could go out more, meself. Give you some space. I know I'm underfoot all the time. I do try to not put everything on you while I'm healing," he said softly. "I want you to feel good about coming home. About calling it home."

[london_spy]

"It's not- It's not that," Danny assured him, trying to get comfortable and wincing as even the morphine failed to stop some of the ache he felt.

"Now probably isn't the best time to talk about this anyway."

He was heartbroken over losing Alex's work, stoned on pain killers, and aching in a way he never had before. He was in no fit state for weighty conversation.

"When can I go home?" he asked.

[just_hex]

"Tomorrow, maybe, if your scans come back clear," he said. "Head injuries are bloody serious, Danny, so just rest. Settle in. I'll pull the blankets up. You've been so good to me."

He smiled.

"Now we can be boring wounded mates, yeah? Opening each others pills for one another?"

He hoped a little levity might help.

[london_spy]

"I don't want to stay- I don't feel safe here," Danny whispered, appreciating Hex's efforts, but still feeling uneasy.

"...What if they come back- What if I wasn't supposed to get back up off that pavement?"

[just_hex]

"I can call the Phouka back if you like," he said. "He's, erm, ah...private security. I could hire him for the night."

Surely a favor like that wouldn't cost too very much.

[london_spy]

"No, no, it's- It's not like we've got a lot of money coming in right now. We can't- We should be saving it. ...I'm just- I'm scared," he confessed.

[just_hex]

"Shh. Your safety is what's important. I'll ring a friend and have him send him back and he'll be right here. He doesn't sleep. And, trust me, no one will get past him," Hex assured him.