The characters belong to Top cow and TNT as do all their toys, accessories and appliances, including the Witchblade. I'm not getting anything out of this, other than amusement and a few headaches.
************************** denotes change of scenery
Tenebrous
chapter 20
*****************************************************
Sara pulled into Saint Lukes. While Jake was being admitted, she began to dial Irons' number. She really did not want to talk to the man, but he was the only other person she could hope to get information from. Halfway through, she changed her mind. After disconnecting, her phone picked up an incoming call.
Her heart leaped, hoping it was Nottingham telling her they were okay. Instead, it was a tele-marketer. Although she knew their job was most likely just as grueling as hers was in many aspects, at the moment she had no patience for this irritation.
The poor being on the other end of the line would be leaving their job with a whole new vocabulary of curse-words.
After venting, Sara turned her attention to Jake. He seemed to be in an argument with the nurse admitting him.
"No! It's just my knee, that's all! I don't have any problems with- Ah, for crying out loud... Sara, could you help me out here?" Jake complained.
The nurse had a hand on her hip and a saucy look on her face as she pointedly leered at what Jake was trying to conceal. Much to Jake's dismay, the disturbance was garnering the attention of the rest of the medical staff in the vicinity.
Unfortunately for Jake, the Witchblade chose that moment to assault his partner with visions. - Bullets firing; an eye peering through a lens: men in cloaks conversing; a barn?, Irons staring at a manuscript or map.
"No, really, I just want my knee looked at, she does this a lot. She's just thinking of the best way to... Oh screw it." At this point, Jake was ready to go along with the staff's crazy conclusions to his cream smears.
Just then, Sara came out of the trance. "Jake, can you take care of the paperwork on the case once your knee is looked at?" Sara asked. She inadvertently ceased the hospital staff's wayward theories by her query.
**************************
Irons tossed and turned in his sleep repeatedly. The Witchblade connection was making him feel ill at ease. It didn't help that this thought somehow triggered 'Kermit the Frog's rendition of 'Rainbow connection'. He'd never seen the movie, of course, but the adverts had been everywhere and the cursed song was now playing merrily in his head.
He'd sensed the Wielder's distress and wondered what could be pissing her off now. Still annoyed by Kermit's lingering melody, he mentally addressed what he knew about the various opponents and decided to let the situation play itself out. He would need his sleep to deal with the aftermath. At the moment, there was nothing he could do. Ian and the Wielder were on their own.
**************************
Pinned against the wooden beam by one of the assassin's ridiculously large forearms, Gabriel resignedly waited for Nottingham to get the task over with. After his shirt had been none too gently yanked away, the pain of the wound throbbed and he could feel the warmth of his blood pouring down his back. The throbbing was then replaced by the pressure of Nottingham's hand, as the assassin was apparently trying to shove him clear through the support beam.
After what seemed like an eternity of having his lower back crushed, the pressure was finally released and he felt Nottingham change positions.
*
Being that the boy really didn't need to lose any more blood, the assassin had quickly torn a strip from the remainder of the boxers and staunched the flow. After applying pressure for a few minutes, he knelt to check the wound. The blood flow had minimized, but dirt and bits of straw from the drop-space had gotten into the wound. It would have to be cleaned.
Ian pulled the bottled water he'd purchased at the party store from his coat. Having been nicely heated from being on the assassin's person during the arduous battle, the warm water would probably lessen Gabriel's discomfiture during the cleansing process. Opening it with one hand, the assassin wetted the cloth and began cleaning the wound.
*
Circulation had returned to Gabriel's lower back and judging by feel of Nottingham's breath there, the assassin had kneeled to examine the bullet wound. Gabriel didn't feel the warm bath of blood as before and was anxiously waiting for the assassin to finish and let him go when he heard a strange noise from behind him.
He was in the middle of trying to figure out what Nottingham was doing when he felt something warm and wet touch his injury.
"What the- Whoa! Hey!" Gabriel yelped, while trying to squirm away. Unfortunately, he was being pinned and the beam he was pinned against wasn't moving.
"Hold still!" Nottingham growled as he attempted to remove the debris.
Between the assassin's breath and the warm wetness touching his backside, Gabriel had concluded that Nottingham was licking his injury and he was disturbed beyond belief. "Stop it!" he yelled, but the distressing sensations continued. He'd craned his neck, hoping to see something that proved his assumptions wrong, but all he could see was the assassin's shoulder.
*
Ian was annoyed that the boy was throwing such a fit. Sure, it would be painful to have your raw flesh aggravated, but at least the water was warm and he was actually putting some effort into being gentle. He was offended that his efforts were unappreciated by the brat. *Such a whiner,* Nottingham scoffed. He decided to retaliate by none so gently gauging out the last bit of dirt. This elicited a pained howl from the boy, but at least it made him behave.
*
The extremely painful jab into the center of his injury nearly made Gabriel pass out. He didn't understand why the man seemed to go out of his way to torment him. Tired and sore, he decided to just let the madman have his way with him.
Protesting was getting him nowhere and he didn't think he could take much more punishment. Yielding to his doom, he tried to ignore what the assassin was doing to him. As he was sick and tired of both Nottingham and the Sufult, his thoughts turned to Sara. He was wondering if she was safe and wished he could call her.
Unfortunately, he didn't have his cell phone. Nottingham hadn't given it back to him after the evening's earlier fracas. He wondered if the assassin still had it, but didn't want to risk inciting the demoniac into another attack by asking him. The man would probably just assume he wanted to tattle on him and that wouldn't go well at all.
*
Satisfied that the wound was clean, Ian used the last of the linens to cover it. Using the roll of tape usually reserved for gagging or strapping weapons; he secured the bandage and put away his tools. Although Gabriel had been obediently still through the rest of the assassin's ministrations, Ian worried that the boy had taken his reprimand a little too harshly.
Before releasing him from the post, he gave him a tentative pat on the shoulder. When this garnered no reaction other than a flinch, he decided to pull out the big guns. "I apologize for my roughness, Mr. Bowman. I was simply exasperated by your ...remonstration," Ian stated. He kept his grip on the boy, just in case Gabriel attempted to bolt anyway.
There was a long pause before Gabriel finally spoke. It seemed as if he were trying to choose his words carefully. "I know this may seem odd to you, Nottingham, but I have serious issues with you licking me," Gabriel explained solemnly.
Ian was completely thrown by this statement. What on earth was Gabriel talking about? "Licking you? I have no intention of ..." Nottingham trailed off as it suddenly occurred to him what Gabriel was referring to. The outrageous image this provoked in the assassin's mind, along with Gabriel's previous panicked indignation, sent the assassin into uncontrollable peals of laughter.
Shaking with mirth, Ian could barely stand. After a few minutes, he managed to reign himself in enough to realize he was using Gabriel as a support. Under the assassin's weight, the frightened and confused young man was struggling to breathe.
The assassin, who's howling laughter had lowered to choked chuckles, released the pressure but maintained a grip on Gabriel's jacket. Judging by Gabriel's expression, he was definitely going to bolt if given the chance now. The boy obviously thought he was completely mental.
Trying to control his amusement long enough to get out a statement to calm the young man was not easy. After a couple attempts, aborted by snorts and snickers, -Every time he tried to speak, Gabriel would brace himself and the ludicrous image would pop into Ian's head again.- the assassin finally managed a complete sentence.
"I was- Ha! It was- heh heh ... Ahem. That was bottled water," Ian finally managed to choke out.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gabriel shouted crossly.
Although it wasn't the response Nottingham was trying for, at least Gabriel didn't look terrified anymore. Sustaining his grip on the young man's jacket, he reached into his coat with his free hand. Procuring the remaining water and stained cloth, he handed the bottle to Gabriel.
Scowling, Gabriel reluctantly accepted the bottle. As the tittering assassin began making dabbing motions with the cloth, realization crossed Gabriel's face briefly before he felt his cheeks flush with blood. *Oh, how embarrassing!* he winced.
Ian noticed Gabriel's quick comprehension and immediate embarrassment. The boy's cheeks and ears were positively pink. Gabriel was keenly perceptive. However, this trait had betrayed him by lack of information. Still amused but realizing he had caused compounded trauma to Gabriel unintentionally, Ian grasped the young man's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.
Gabriel hung his head and groaned. The tips of his ears blushing fiercely.
*
*********************************
a/n: Weird chapter, I know. I don't know what the hell is going on with the muses and I know I haven't addressed the sneaky Sufult but that will have to be done carefully and without whatever deranged muse was involved with this chapter.
I can actually blame Roguegal17 for some of the madness, since she suggested Ian work in utter silence while tending to Gabe's back. She thought it would be unnerving for anyone to not see what someone was doing and not being talked through it would add to the stress. Between my reasoning and the muse, things got odd. Sorry if anyone was freaked out.
'Staunch' means to stop the flow, usually referring to blood. I'm using the 'Old French' version because that's just the way I say it. I guess I could have used 'stayed, stopped or the modern version; stanch, but I don't like the sound of that word. And I'm just belligerent that way.
p.s. Roguegal17 slapped some sense into me and I'm revising the April fools story. I'll post the proper bit once she's cleared it for takeoff.
I'd like to express my gratitude to everyone who has bestowed me with their reviews. They are wonderful to read, cheer me up and push me to keep writing. ^_^
cheers,
a~
************************** denotes change of scenery
Tenebrous
chapter 20
*****************************************************
Sara pulled into Saint Lukes. While Jake was being admitted, she began to dial Irons' number. She really did not want to talk to the man, but he was the only other person she could hope to get information from. Halfway through, she changed her mind. After disconnecting, her phone picked up an incoming call.
Her heart leaped, hoping it was Nottingham telling her they were okay. Instead, it was a tele-marketer. Although she knew their job was most likely just as grueling as hers was in many aspects, at the moment she had no patience for this irritation.
The poor being on the other end of the line would be leaving their job with a whole new vocabulary of curse-words.
After venting, Sara turned her attention to Jake. He seemed to be in an argument with the nurse admitting him.
"No! It's just my knee, that's all! I don't have any problems with- Ah, for crying out loud... Sara, could you help me out here?" Jake complained.
The nurse had a hand on her hip and a saucy look on her face as she pointedly leered at what Jake was trying to conceal. Much to Jake's dismay, the disturbance was garnering the attention of the rest of the medical staff in the vicinity.
Unfortunately for Jake, the Witchblade chose that moment to assault his partner with visions. - Bullets firing; an eye peering through a lens: men in cloaks conversing; a barn?, Irons staring at a manuscript or map.
"No, really, I just want my knee looked at, she does this a lot. She's just thinking of the best way to... Oh screw it." At this point, Jake was ready to go along with the staff's crazy conclusions to his cream smears.
Just then, Sara came out of the trance. "Jake, can you take care of the paperwork on the case once your knee is looked at?" Sara asked. She inadvertently ceased the hospital staff's wayward theories by her query.
**************************
Irons tossed and turned in his sleep repeatedly. The Witchblade connection was making him feel ill at ease. It didn't help that this thought somehow triggered 'Kermit the Frog's rendition of 'Rainbow connection'. He'd never seen the movie, of course, but the adverts had been everywhere and the cursed song was now playing merrily in his head.
He'd sensed the Wielder's distress and wondered what could be pissing her off now. Still annoyed by Kermit's lingering melody, he mentally addressed what he knew about the various opponents and decided to let the situation play itself out. He would need his sleep to deal with the aftermath. At the moment, there was nothing he could do. Ian and the Wielder were on their own.
**************************
Pinned against the wooden beam by one of the assassin's ridiculously large forearms, Gabriel resignedly waited for Nottingham to get the task over with. After his shirt had been none too gently yanked away, the pain of the wound throbbed and he could feel the warmth of his blood pouring down his back. The throbbing was then replaced by the pressure of Nottingham's hand, as the assassin was apparently trying to shove him clear through the support beam.
After what seemed like an eternity of having his lower back crushed, the pressure was finally released and he felt Nottingham change positions.
*
Being that the boy really didn't need to lose any more blood, the assassin had quickly torn a strip from the remainder of the boxers and staunched the flow. After applying pressure for a few minutes, he knelt to check the wound. The blood flow had minimized, but dirt and bits of straw from the drop-space had gotten into the wound. It would have to be cleaned.
Ian pulled the bottled water he'd purchased at the party store from his coat. Having been nicely heated from being on the assassin's person during the arduous battle, the warm water would probably lessen Gabriel's discomfiture during the cleansing process. Opening it with one hand, the assassin wetted the cloth and began cleaning the wound.
*
Circulation had returned to Gabriel's lower back and judging by feel of Nottingham's breath there, the assassin had kneeled to examine the bullet wound. Gabriel didn't feel the warm bath of blood as before and was anxiously waiting for the assassin to finish and let him go when he heard a strange noise from behind him.
He was in the middle of trying to figure out what Nottingham was doing when he felt something warm and wet touch his injury.
"What the- Whoa! Hey!" Gabriel yelped, while trying to squirm away. Unfortunately, he was being pinned and the beam he was pinned against wasn't moving.
"Hold still!" Nottingham growled as he attempted to remove the debris.
Between the assassin's breath and the warm wetness touching his backside, Gabriel had concluded that Nottingham was licking his injury and he was disturbed beyond belief. "Stop it!" he yelled, but the distressing sensations continued. He'd craned his neck, hoping to see something that proved his assumptions wrong, but all he could see was the assassin's shoulder.
*
Ian was annoyed that the boy was throwing such a fit. Sure, it would be painful to have your raw flesh aggravated, but at least the water was warm and he was actually putting some effort into being gentle. He was offended that his efforts were unappreciated by the brat. *Such a whiner,* Nottingham scoffed. He decided to retaliate by none so gently gauging out the last bit of dirt. This elicited a pained howl from the boy, but at least it made him behave.
*
The extremely painful jab into the center of his injury nearly made Gabriel pass out. He didn't understand why the man seemed to go out of his way to torment him. Tired and sore, he decided to just let the madman have his way with him.
Protesting was getting him nowhere and he didn't think he could take much more punishment. Yielding to his doom, he tried to ignore what the assassin was doing to him. As he was sick and tired of both Nottingham and the Sufult, his thoughts turned to Sara. He was wondering if she was safe and wished he could call her.
Unfortunately, he didn't have his cell phone. Nottingham hadn't given it back to him after the evening's earlier fracas. He wondered if the assassin still had it, but didn't want to risk inciting the demoniac into another attack by asking him. The man would probably just assume he wanted to tattle on him and that wouldn't go well at all.
*
Satisfied that the wound was clean, Ian used the last of the linens to cover it. Using the roll of tape usually reserved for gagging or strapping weapons; he secured the bandage and put away his tools. Although Gabriel had been obediently still through the rest of the assassin's ministrations, Ian worried that the boy had taken his reprimand a little too harshly.
Before releasing him from the post, he gave him a tentative pat on the shoulder. When this garnered no reaction other than a flinch, he decided to pull out the big guns. "I apologize for my roughness, Mr. Bowman. I was simply exasperated by your ...remonstration," Ian stated. He kept his grip on the boy, just in case Gabriel attempted to bolt anyway.
There was a long pause before Gabriel finally spoke. It seemed as if he were trying to choose his words carefully. "I know this may seem odd to you, Nottingham, but I have serious issues with you licking me," Gabriel explained solemnly.
Ian was completely thrown by this statement. What on earth was Gabriel talking about? "Licking you? I have no intention of ..." Nottingham trailed off as it suddenly occurred to him what Gabriel was referring to. The outrageous image this provoked in the assassin's mind, along with Gabriel's previous panicked indignation, sent the assassin into uncontrollable peals of laughter.
Shaking with mirth, Ian could barely stand. After a few minutes, he managed to reign himself in enough to realize he was using Gabriel as a support. Under the assassin's weight, the frightened and confused young man was struggling to breathe.
The assassin, who's howling laughter had lowered to choked chuckles, released the pressure but maintained a grip on Gabriel's jacket. Judging by Gabriel's expression, he was definitely going to bolt if given the chance now. The boy obviously thought he was completely mental.
Trying to control his amusement long enough to get out a statement to calm the young man was not easy. After a couple attempts, aborted by snorts and snickers, -Every time he tried to speak, Gabriel would brace himself and the ludicrous image would pop into Ian's head again.- the assassin finally managed a complete sentence.
"I was- Ha! It was- heh heh ... Ahem. That was bottled water," Ian finally managed to choke out.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gabriel shouted crossly.
Although it wasn't the response Nottingham was trying for, at least Gabriel didn't look terrified anymore. Sustaining his grip on the young man's jacket, he reached into his coat with his free hand. Procuring the remaining water and stained cloth, he handed the bottle to Gabriel.
Scowling, Gabriel reluctantly accepted the bottle. As the tittering assassin began making dabbing motions with the cloth, realization crossed Gabriel's face briefly before he felt his cheeks flush with blood. *Oh, how embarrassing!* he winced.
Ian noticed Gabriel's quick comprehension and immediate embarrassment. The boy's cheeks and ears were positively pink. Gabriel was keenly perceptive. However, this trait had betrayed him by lack of information. Still amused but realizing he had caused compounded trauma to Gabriel unintentionally, Ian grasped the young man's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.
Gabriel hung his head and groaned. The tips of his ears blushing fiercely.
*
*********************************
a/n: Weird chapter, I know. I don't know what the hell is going on with the muses and I know I haven't addressed the sneaky Sufult but that will have to be done carefully and without whatever deranged muse was involved with this chapter.
I can actually blame Roguegal17 for some of the madness, since she suggested Ian work in utter silence while tending to Gabe's back. She thought it would be unnerving for anyone to not see what someone was doing and not being talked through it would add to the stress. Between my reasoning and the muse, things got odd. Sorry if anyone was freaked out.
'Staunch' means to stop the flow, usually referring to blood. I'm using the 'Old French' version because that's just the way I say it. I guess I could have used 'stayed, stopped or the modern version; stanch, but I don't like the sound of that word. And I'm just belligerent that way.
p.s. Roguegal17 slapped some sense into me and I'm revising the April fools story. I'll post the proper bit once she's cleared it for takeoff.
I'd like to express my gratitude to everyone who has bestowed me with their reviews. They are wonderful to read, cheer me up and push me to keep writing. ^_^
cheers,
a~