One Too Many

'Sh-shay?' The frightened voice of the lady stuttered. Her blue eyes almost hurt his vision from the red pools around them. 'Shay, what happened?'

He looked down at his hands, blurred by his tears. He wished everything wasn't so red... he wished he didn't have to have killed them... he wished things were different.

He didn't like being the strong one.

'I killed them mother,' he stated calmly, looking up at her. 'I killed them.'

'Why..?' she asked. He watched as she cried, unable to look away. 'Why Seamus? They... they were- ARE, your cousins.'

'I killed them,' he repeated without reason. His knees failed him, and he fell to the floor, forced to look at his victims... pale, dead faces, obscured by sheets of red, looked back up at him...

Seamus' eyes snapped open, and once again he was covered in cold sweat. He tried to sit up, but not only did he ache all over, but a dead weight was on top of him. Or was that an alive weight?

"Mmm..." someone moaned from ontop of him. Seamus thought frantically until he matched it with Erskine who had been with him last night in the ally. Some of the weight shifted, then Seamus was looking into deep pools of merky hazel. "'Mornin'..."

"Why are you using me as a pillow?" Seamus asked, trying to keep his voice as even as possible; if he had calculated his own damage correctly, he would need her help.

"Firstly cause you were shivvering so I thought I would warm ya up," the girl chirped. Her good mood was way to early in the morning, and Seamus surpressed a groan. "And secondly, there aren't any other pillows around."

"Swell..." Seamus sighed. "Well, I have to go..."

"I'll go with you!" Erskine said a little too loudly, but at least she sat up. Seamus glared at her.

"Shut up!" he hissed as he struggled to sit up as well. She pouted, but helped him. "You can't come with me, alright?"

"Alright..." the girl said sadly. She fiddled with a necklace around her neck, which had three small, disc-like beads woven into it. "But... at least let me help you?" Seamus stared at her blankly; if he believed in luck, he would of sworn it was his lucky day. As it was, he didn't believe in luck.

"Sure," he shrugged minutely, and she smiled again. As she slipped behind him and pushed up his shirt to cheek on his burns, he hung his head and thought to himself. Wait... his shirt? "Didn't you take my shirt off?"

"If I'm capable of taking it off of you," she teased lightly; he winched as she touched his tender skin, and she started to tear something, and wrapping it around his lower back and abdomens. "Don't you think I would be capable of putting it back on?"

"I guess..." Seamus said slowly. "Hey um... what's your name again?" She giggled.

"Tasha Erskine," she told him. "Can you remember that, Charming?" Seamus blinked.

"Charming?"

"Yeah!" she giggled more. "In ever story of a dansel in distress, she's saved by either a Knight in Shining Armour, or Prince Charming! Didn't you know?"

"I don't listen to foolish little childrens tales," Seamus snarled. He neglected to mention that he used to love to hear about them when he was younger... he just couldn't remember any of them.

"I know a lot," Tasha said happily. "Maybe I'll tell you someday?"

"Maybe," Seamus replied absently; he had no intention to see her again. "Sure, whatever."

"We'll have lots of fun!" Tasha continued, finishing with his back and moving to check his head. She grabbed his bandana that had been tossed carelessly to the side, and after inspecting it carefully, tied it over his head tightly. "And maybe you can tell me some stories, too?"

"I don't know any," Seamus said as he tried to stand. Tasha stood too, and helped him when he fumbled. There was a burning pain in his leg; he would have to get Brendan to check that out.

"You just make it up along the way," Tasha shrugged, barely managing to hold up his small weight. They tumbled along, lasping into silence as they met the main street. Seamus guided her with soft words spoken in her ear, telling her to walk in the gutters, though she protested, and to keep her head low when a Nietzschean walked by.

He could of shouted with relief when he saw the familiar ally way, and with a quick look in either direction, they stumbled down it.

"I never thought I would see an Earther who lived a sheltered life," Seamus whispered to her. She grinned, but he didn't see.

"My brother kept me indoors all the time, except when we had to move," she explained. "We had three children with us, one only a baby, that I took care of. They stayed with me. My mother used to tell me and my brother stories all the time, so to occupy the time I retold them my mother's stories, and made up a few of my own."

"That explains some of it," Seamus nodded, and noticed the entrance of the tunnels up ahead. "Doesn't explain why your better fed then others..."

"My brother worked tooth and nail to get scraps for us," she continued, pausing to readjust his weight on her shoulders. "And he stayed out as late as nessisary to make sure we got food each night; we ate as much as anyone else, if not less, just that we ate on a day-to-day basis, instead of a few times every week." Seamus nodded. Another thought entered his mind.

What happened to the kids?

Before he could ask, they entered the tunnels, and immediately, as had happened before, they were surrounded by kids.

"We heard about the explosion!"

"That was so cool Shay!"

"You should of invited us along!"

Seamus didn't know how they did it, but Tasha got them through the sea of kids, and sitting down on a low, hard bench. As Tasha knelt next to him to check his head again, Brendan pushed his way over, some homemade whiskey in his hands.

"Shay!" He laughed; A brilliant blue bruise was still on his cheek. "That was terrific! You are all forgiven; I understand. It was just pre-mission jitters. Oh, who is this pretty young lady?"

"Don't think of it Brendan," Seamus muttered under his breathe. Tasha was blushing lightly at Brendan's comment, and a blissful smile played on her lips as she deemed his head wound still alright.

"Ah... alright," Brendan winked a little. "She's yours then?"

"No," Seamus glared up at him. "But she'll be out of here soon enough, and she's a guest until then. Treat her with what dignity you don't have." Looking from the corner of his eye, he saw that Trisha's blush had deepened.

"Wouldja like some whiskey, m'dear?" Brendan offered her, cocking a brow smartly. She giggled, and nodded. Handing her a whiskey bottle, he sat down between her and Seamus, putting an arm around both of the younger teens. Tasha opened the bottle with little difficultly, and with a moments hesitation, gulped down a couple of sips. She sputtered slightly, some of the amber liquid running down her face, and started to cough.

"Great," Seamus sighed. "You introduced someone to their first glass of whiskey. Something to be real proud of in your future Bren..."

"And you should be proud of getting your leg wrecked up?" Brendan shot back. Seamus didn't reply to this. "I won't be able to help that leg... Kiki might. Oi! Kiki! Get yer ass over here!!" Seamus winched at the yelling, but in a few moments, a dehydrated looking girl with pinched skin covered in scars, and one eye patched closed came up to them.

"Yes?" Kiki said, brushing matted shoulder-length hair behind her ears.

"Can you help Seamus with his leg?" Brendan asked, gesturing to Seamus' leg. Kiki eyed it over, and nodded.

"Doesn't look like anything too serious..." With that said, she pulled Seamus to a stand again, white agony spreading through his body as he put weight onto his leg. He was forced to hobble behind her to her table across the room. He almost collasped because of the pain, but finally could sink into another low, hard bench. Kiki sat down on the ground infront of him, and looked at his leg. He closed his eyes, and rested his head back against the wall.

He hated it when Kiki had to fix him up. The remedies almost always involved her only pair of pliars and a lot of pain, though she was known for being able to steal bandages very easily. Seamus was suddenly in a whole hell of a lot of pain, but before he knew it, something small, triangular and sharp was yanked out of him, causing the blood flow to go faster, but removing a good deal of afrementioned pain with it.

"'Bout time..." Seamus said through gritted teeth. Kiki didn't listen as she bandaged up the wound with yellowish-white bandages, then took some sort of cardboard, and bandaged it and his leg up again.

"Any better?" Kiki asked, standing up. Harper gingerly put a little weight onto his leg; it still stabbed at him like white hot knives, but a particular extra sharp prod of pain had disappeared.

"Slightly," Harper said, sitting back. Kiki sat beside him, and waved to someone. In a few moments, they both had bottles of whiskey. "For me?"

"Yes, my favourite little Onnagirai," Kiki said with a smile. Seamus glared at her as he open the whiskey.

"I don't hate women," he hissed out, sipping the whiskey. It burned his throat and set his stomach aflame, making him forget about the pain in his leg. "If I did, you would of been dead long ago."

"Good to know," Kiki laughed, drinking some of her own whiskey as well. They both settled down a bit after that, just drinking in peace.

Seamus had always liked Kiki. She accepted him and his dark little ways of thinking, though she could never figure out what was going on in that head of his. She had giving up with hope a long, long time ago, like him, though unlike him she tried to make the most of what little her life had to offer, spending most of it in the tunnels, prying things out of people.

"Your girlfriend was pretty," Kiki said suddenly; Seamus was about halfway through his whiskey, and almost choked.

"She's not my girlfriend Kiki," he grumbled. "She sorta saved my life, and I needed her to help me get here. Not a girlfriend."

"She looks like a virgin," she said randomly. This time, he did choke.

"Why would I want to know that?" he asked, glaring at her. She looked at him boredly.

"Because unless she is to lose her virginity at the end of the night," Kiki stated. "She should stop drinking, and Brendan should probably stop kissing her neck." Seamus looked across the room, and sure enough, Tasha was laughing like mad, her cheeks glowing red, as Brendan leaned in every few seconds and placed a kiss or two on her neck.

"I thought I told him to treat her like a guest," Seamus grounded out as he stood up. His leg hurt, but the whiskey had done wonders to make him not feel it as much. He hobbled back across the room, and separated the two, maybe a little harsher then he should of. For the second time, Brendan ended up on the floor.

"I thought you said she wasn't yours," Brendan glared up at him, as Seamus pulled Tasha to a stand. Tasha crashed into him, giggling still. She went to take another sip of her whiskey, but Seamus took it off of her, causing her to pout and whine.

"She isn't," Seamus glared down at him as he started to limp away. "I told you she was a guest until she leaves; you don't do that to a guest Brendan. Jeez, if you can't learn to grow up, at least learn get a few morals!"

For the second time, everyone watched as he left.

For the first time, he left with someone else.

"C - hic - arming?" Tasha said, fluttering her eyes at him. Seamus stopped outside the tunnels to think of what to do with her. He couldn't very well leave her out in the allies... that would just be asking for some unmentionalble thing to be done to her. "Are wee go - hic - goin' to - hic - wide off inta de sun - hic - set now?"

"Sure," he said, brushing back a few of her bangs as he smiled at her. His smile was false and bitter, but she returned it none-the-less. "Come on... I think you had one too many drinks..."

Her giggling followed, as he pulled her down the allies by the hand.

She would be the first stranger to enter his ghetto...