Phury along with Butch and John Matthew pulled into Caldwell Medical's visitor parking lot, the lights popping off one by one, leaving it in pitch blackness. Phury killed the engine, looks over at his brothers. "We ready to roll?" he asked them. Solemn faces nod.
Butch smiles "Let's get that son of a bitch out."
As Laura's eyes slowly blink open, her body is sore and that choking smell of hospital cleanliness and death attack. She sneezes, and then stretches her cramped muscles. Her hands are still stained with blood she couldn't completely wash off. The book falls from her lap, as she bends to pick it up; she notices a pair of ice white eyes watching her.
Laura immediately sits up. The tubes from his mouth have been pulled out, but an expression of agony is etched into his face. He's trying to hide it.
Fail.
His eyes were deep, and he held an aura of intimidation, even from his position on the hospital bed. Which she was afraid of collapsing under him any minute.
"Hello there." She says, standing up to observe any other damage he's done. He raises an eyebrow, and then smirks as he realizes she has his jacket. She chuckles, and opens the flap so he could do inventory on his weapons.
"All there. I promise. Your daggers are in my bag." She explains, pulling the chair a little closer. She looks around at the silent hospital. She stands up again, fidgety now that he's awake. She hated hospital. Her life had been spent here. She hides her shiver as she trots to the door and looks down the hallway. No one. The place was empty as a cemetery. She almost laughs at her analogy.
"Now shouldn't you be sleeping? Seeing…" she stops and checks her cell phone, "just got out of massive surgery like twelve hours ago?" she asks, taking her seat next to bed. His arm twitches, moves closer to her. But he was breathing on his own, which was a good thing.
"No…" he rasps. Her eyes go wide in shock. They were light and honey-brown, with sparkles of green. She was unordinary but yet ordinary at the same time. So small and slight, no more then five-two or so.
"Shut up!" she squeaks, "don't talk you idiot! You've just got shot in the lung and you want to use them?" she shakes her head, then stands up, going to head over to his other side. His arm, the one without the glove, shots up and grabs her forearm in a death grip. Laura doesn't move but stares at him, confused.
"Don't you think those tubes should be in?" she asks him, meeting his gaze and holding it. His eyes told her to back down, and Laura was willing to bet big money that mostly everyone who had met those eyes looked away.
But Laura didn't.
The man smiled. Revealing those long canines, something that seemed more fit for a Doberman then a man. He let go of her arm. She pulls it towards her. "Now let me go see if I can get a nurse, alright?" He looks beyond her towards the door. Laura turns her head around, and feels like screaming again.
The two men that had entered the room were huge. As in like SUV's on legs, one with a kinder face and short brown hair, the other wearing a Red Sox cap. they had the whole whole big bad, and dangerous going for them. but they were both handsome men, not that Laura noticed. But their leathers, guns, and pissed faces meant bad news. Very bad news.
Laura spun fully around, and slipped one of the daggers out of the bag as she threw it to the ground. "Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sound as intimidating as the man in the bed. The two raised their eyebrows as if they couldn't comprehend what they were seeing. Red Sox laughed.
"And what are you going to do?" Red Sox asked, taking a step closer. Laura narrows her eyes dangerously. Her grip tightening. "Give me back the dagger, Shorty, before you hurt yourself."
Laura's fury wells up and spilled over the top, she was size sensitive.
"I'll castrate you if you take even one more step." She warned, almost tempted to cut him off sooner. She risked a quick glance at the patient, who lay watching her intently, an amused look in his gorgeous eyes.
Red Sox moved.
Laura lunged, quick, actually taking Red Sox by surprise, but he proved to be faster. The dagger nicked only his thigh as she flew past, cutting through the leather and leaving a trail of blood behind. The silent one grabbed her arms, locking them behind her back, and holding her still. The dagger fell from her hands, only to clatter on the floor.
"Stop…" the patient tried to order. Laura shot him a look before tightening her upper body. Red Sox came over, Laura jumped, using her arms to keep her up, kicked at Red Sox, catching him in the chin. Red Sox glared at her, rubbing his jaw.
"John…hold her still." Red Sox orders. He walks over to Vishous. "You're an attention whore. Second time, buddy." Vishous smirks, shaking his head. "I do love attention." He replies sarcastically. Butch reaches for the wires.
"Don't you touch him! I'll…" she stops, shakes her head, "Don't! He's hurt!" she screeches, struggling like a wild thing. "Get away!" she yells again. Tugging at her arms, trying desperately to get free. Panicking, John invades in her mind. And mentally knocks her out. She slumps in his arms.
Vishous growls, making Butch back up. "She's coming."
"Not again."
"yes again. She's coming. With me."
"Why? She ain't a doc."
"She's coming, Butch. End. Of. Story."
Butch looks at John Matthew, who shrugs and slings her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Vishous growls again, "Be gentle." He snaps, then stops, trying to catch his breath.
The two raise eyebrows. Butch helps Vishous get up. "Let's blow this joint."
"Agreed."
As they passed the nurse's station they gave a Phury the classic don't-ask-questions look as Butch helped V down the hall. Phury didn't say much, but finished wiping the system of any traces that any of them had been here. He then ran to catch up.
When they reached the car, he looked over at the unconscious form of the girl, then at Vishous, and finally at Butch. "Wrath is going to kill you."
"I know."
"Oh well, as long as you know." Phury shook his head. They were all doomed.
