This… this couldn't be happening… get up! Get. Up. Even at the urging of his own anger, his own frustration, his muscles wouldn't move. There was no way… this… this had to be some sort of nightmare, it was the only explanation. You should've planned better, shouldn't have rushed in, whispered the tiny traitorous voice in the back of his head. The monster wearing a man's face stalked closer
"We are the guardians of justice! Priwen shall prevail!" he spat, he knew that even should he fall, his compatriots would come after the monster that stood before him, he'd taught them well. Still, he hoped that the words would give him the motivation, the couple of breaths' reprieve to get his feet back under him. McCullum wasn't sure if it was the effects of the relic wearing off or if it had simply been the length and ferocity of the fight. There was a gentle click of fine shoes on the wood ahead of him.
"You can't accept that we're not enemies can you?" the snake said, frustration sneaking through in his voice, and McCullum felt a small measure of pleasure that he was getting under the leech's skin, too bad he couldn't look in the leech's face to see said irritation as he lowered his head, trying to will the spots out of his vision
"We always have been and we always will be! Of all the evils that threaten mankind, your kind are the worst." he snapped, the rage burning in his veins giving him enough strength to lift his head but little more, his arms and legs were trembling with the effort to remain even partially upright. There was a faint, derisive snort from somewhere above him.
"I was only reborn for a few minutes before you and your men hunted me down like a beast!" the doctor snapped, he was pacing, Geoffrey could hear the other man's shoes. Even as spots swam in his vision, he managed to pull enough air into his lungs to snipe back at the leech.
"You were only reborn for a few minutes and you'd already taken the life of an innocent woman!" he heard the monster's feet stop but couldn't make anything else out over the pounding of his heart in his ears.
"There is no way you'll ever let me be McCullum?" the Doctor's voice was even more agitated than it had been a moment ago "You'll always hunt me down won't you?"
"There is no escape leech. Kill me now for there is no way you can sway me to your ideals." he spat, trying to goad the monster into it. He flinched when a hand wrapped under his chin, pulling his head up, all his muscles protesting the movement.
"That's… where you're mistaken." the monster said and McCullum felt the sweat run cold down his spine
"What do you mean?" his traitorous heart suddenly skipped a beat with the leech's ominous words. The hand holding onto his chin suddenly yanked him upward and he flailed, grabbing onto the dead man's arm as he fought for balance and then he was staring directly into the monster's eyes. It didn't seem right, that his eyes were a pale bluish green, like he was any other man that McCullum would pass on the street, not the hellish reds and blacks he'd seen through other leech's glamours. The doctor looked pensive for a fraction of a second before his expression softened slightly.
"I'll spare you, McCullum." He said. "I'll offer you the mercy you never offered me."
"What is this ruse?" Geoffrey managed, he felt like he must've misheard the doctor, that he was going to take it back and rip out his throat at a moment's notice.
"This is no ruse, McCullum." Reid said, and in some deep part of his mind the Guard noticed the annoyance creeping into the other man's voice. "This is me, letting you go. After all, you and I are both trying to save this poor country in our own way."
McCullum had raised his head a little bit and noticed that the leech was offering him a hand up. He wasn't sure he could trust his legs, let alone the arm being offered to him, but he wasn't about to show this monster how thoroughly he'd been beaten. He grasped the doctor's arm and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, still confused, still expecting the bite, the dropping of the leech's mask. But it never came, the doctor turned and began walking away. Geoffrey swayed, barely keeping his feet under him and shouted after him instead.
"I'll kill you Reid! Next time we meet, I'll end you!" It didn't sound half as intimidating as he hoped, but he meant it, he'd be better prepared, he'd have more backup, better traps… The doctor didn't even turn to look back at him, instead moving to enter the lift.
"See? Progress already! You called me by my name. Until next time, goodbye hunter." He gave a tired grin at Geoffrey before the lift descended out of view, as though they were mere friendly rivals and not mortal enemies.
When he was alone Geoffrey felt himself waver, his legs threatening to collapse and the edges of his vision greying out. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe deeply through the pain and ache, he needed to get out of here if nothing else. The trembling wasn't getting any better but he managed to limp over to his sword and pick it up and used it to support himself for a moment. He looked at the lift, he was never going to be able to walk through the whole wing without someone stopping him and trying to force him to receive care. The last thing he wanted, or needed, was someone tutting over him, he just needed to get someplace safe to crash… His gaze lingered on the window, he sighed as he made up his mind, it was that or the lift…
He was thankful that the window slid open with smoothly oiled wells and didn't come crashing back down on his head. Looking over the edge, he realized there was a platform just below, good thing, since his vision was swimming looking all the way to the ground. The hunter managed to brace himself on the edge of the window long enough to sheath his sword and slowly start to maneuver himself out of the window, pausing at several points to catch his breath and trying not to swear up a storm in the meantime. It wouldn't do to put in the effort of crawling out the window just to then be caught in the act. Geoffrey hung from his hands for a moment before dropping down and landing heavily. His knees buckled and he hit his wrists and elbows hard against the wood. He lay there for a moment, trying to blink stars out of his vision and breathing heavily. Reid had spared him and here he was, going to die trying to get out of the building, damned lazy leech… he thought, groaning and trying to push himself back up onto his hands and knees. It seemed as though it took him an age to get to a position so he could crawl over to look off of the edge, trying not to think about how pathetic it made him look. He thanked every god he could think of and any whose names he couldn't remember when he noticed a ladder leaning against the platform. It shook a little as his boots stepped onto the rungs and he took his time descending but he made his way to the bottom and was panting like he'd run miles when his feet were firmly back on solid ground.
McCullum just stood there for a moment, trying to collect himself long enough to make it to the safe house he knew was barely a block away. He would've paused longer but he heard someone call out from the hospital courtyard
"Who's there?"
He hobbled away from the hospital, pausing far more frequently than he would've liked, he eventually made his way to the safe house, breathing a sigh of relief that the door was unlocked. The hunter didn't want to run into his compatriots but he didn't think that he'd be able to squat down and pick the lock properly. The door swung open to reveal… well an empty room and the Priwen commander sighed to himself, he was glad that there was no one here but he was going to have to reprimand everyone about locking safehouses when you left them. Following his own advice he closed and locked the door behind himself and went to remove his weapons. The grey dots started to swarm his vision and he closed his eyes, trying to will them away and swayed on his feet. He made one step toward a chair, knowing that he wasn't going to get through cleaning everything before the ground was rushing up far faster than it should've.
-Face your Fears-
Geoffrey didn't know how long it had been when he awoke, to be completely honest he wasn't confident that he was going to wake up at all. Yet here he was, trying to blink the bleariness out of his vision and feeling every throb of his heart through his temples. The hunter took a deep breath, wincing at how it shocked down his throat, and he became aware of the severe case of cotton mouth he had. He did his best to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and just lay there for a few minutes more, trying to get his mouth working again. There was a sore point on his shoulder that… that was probably from hitting the chair as he fell, he thought. He had not been this injured in a long while, and usually there was backup there to haul him off to headquarters to be patched back together.
Once again McCullum chastised himself for running off to fight the doctor halfcocked, he'd been so sure that the relic was going to win him the fight, that Reid was a newborn, he couldn't be that strong. It was terrifying that he was. The hunter still wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Reid had decided to spare his life. The back of his mind insisted that it was a con, some sort of long game but he just couldn't see what the point was. Not that all leeches had logical plans, some of them just liked to play with their food but he couldn't shake the idea that something in the doctor's voice had been genuine, or that they couldn't find any sign of deaths attributed to him after the first sighting. That didn't mean that he hadn't killed anyone, he could just be very good at hiding it.
Thinking in loops like this wasn't doing him any good, he needed to see if he could sit up, drink water if there was any here. He could still feel some of the deeper blows that Reid had dealt him in their fight, those would need to be dealt with too… Geoffrey grunted and slowly started to move his hands underneath himself, taking a pause to breathe and then push slowly up to his hands and knees. Everything hurt and his arms trembled and so did his legs, but he didn't collapse and so he called that a positive, he managed to push himself into a seated position, leaning some of his weight against the base of the chair and finally looked around the safehouse. It was relatively clean, but clearly the guards who'd been here last hadn't set it up for the next people. There was a flask of some sort on the table, just barely within reach and Geoffrey thought for a long moment before reaching up and grabbing it. He nearly dropped it and was thankful that it was closed. He hoped it was someone's holy water, for all that he'd give them hell later for leaving it behind, he needed water. It should probably be concerning how much his hands were shaking as he fumbled the damned thing open but hopefully the contents would help. He brought the opening to his lips and took a swig without considering it first. It wasn't water. The alcohol burned down his throat and he coughed, suddenly finding himself choking on it. The hunter tried to force his gag reflex back down but only succeeded in buying himself enough time to scramble for the thankfully empty bucket that was within arms' reach. Not that there was much in his stomach to reject but that didn't stop his body from trying. He spat when his stomach was done trying to flip itself inside out and wiped the back of his sleeve across his mouth.
Geoffrey managed to sit back, leaning against the base of the chair and took several deep breaths, so that wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. He glanced around himself, frowning at the flask that had fallen on its side, leaking some of its contents onto the ground. He scooped it up with shaky hands and carefully twisted the cap back onto it. It wasn't the best solution for cleaning out his wounds, but he wasn't up for exploring the safe house and it was better than leaving them alone to risk infection. The leader slowly started to pull his shirt off, feeling as weak as a newborn kitten but he managed and looked down at his torso only to pause. He knew that it should be a mottled array of blacks and purples of bruises and bright reds of open wounds. But other than a few spots that were faintly yellow or green and a couple of scrapes that looked nearly closed rather than open and weeping and angry. He took a really deep breath, his side still twinged a little, he'd been fairly certain that Reid had cracked a rib at one point but maybe he'd been wrong…
He reached a hand up to his shoulder where the leech had managed to nick him with a bite and while the skin was a little tender his fingers came away clean of blood. There was a building sense of panic in his stomach as he ran his tongue of his teeth only for it to fade in confusion as he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. No fangs. The leech hadn't infected him somehow. He knew how they made more of their kind and he'd been careful about it his whole career but that didn't mean that the doctor hadn't done something conniving that he wouldn't have noticed. He grabbed onto the cross that he kept around his neck just to be sure and while the sides bit into the flesh of his hand a little it didn't burn. One crisis averted he was left slumped against a chair perplexed. Even if he'd been mistaken yesterday after the fight and perhaps Reid hadn't hit him as hard as he thought, the wounds he did have looked like they'd been healing for some time. Geoffrey glanced at the boarded up window, unable to make out the time of day through it, that begged the question, how long had he been unconscious for?
There was no clock in this building, nor did he carry a timepiece on him into fights, that was just begging for it to be broken. Great, he had no idea how long he'd been in here, taking a nap while Reid was just running about the city, probably causing chaos. Or maybe not, a small, traitorous part of his mind whispered. He pointedly ignored that thought and instead used the frustration as motivation to sit up proper and used the alcohol on the small cuts that still remained, better late than never. He had nothing to wrap the wounds with, nor was there anything to eat or drink in the immediate vicinity. Nothing to do for it but get up and look around. Geoffrey used the chair to help get to his feet and knew that it was a rather pathetic display but thankfully no one was around to see it as he stumbled from the table to the small pantry was tucked into a corner of the one room safehouse.
Opening the cupboard he decided that he was going to flay whoever had last been in here, as he was greeted by empty shelves and a singular mug. He took it down anyway, and thanked the lord that the water spurted to life when he turned the handle of the sink. It ran an uncomfortable brown color for a moment before clearing whatever had been in the pipe. The hunter filled the mug and resisted the urge to gulp at the water, if his stomach's last reaction was anything to go by, that would end in disaster. Instead he sipped slowly at the water, trying to ignore how it made his innards twist and threaten to reject it again. It tasted awful, but it was wet and it was arguably water, it would have to do.
He managed two full mugs and to get over to the closet toilet to relieve himself without falling or vomiting, which while he'd hardly call it a victory, was far better than being dead, or a leech. He sat down on the chair proper this time and considered his options. He needed to get back to his men, he'd left Lloyd in charge for the meantime, but he needed to at the very least warn them that going after Reid was going to take a lot more preparation than they'd initially thought but he wasn't managing well right now, barely having been able to hobble around the safehouse. His other option was to stay here and hope for the best, but there was no food and he really needed to have someone else check his remaining wounds with proper first aid. With a grunt he managed to get to his feet and hobbled over to the door to look out the peephole. He could make out daylight outside, not just dusk, well that was certainly a point in favor of returning home, he thought.
Decision made he stiffly put his clothes back on, trying not to grimace at the feel of the stiff fabric of his coat, covered in large amount of blood, whether it was his or Reid's he didn't know, but regardless the whole coat was going to get soaked when he got back. Sword strapped to his hip he looked around the building one last time before sighing and grabbing the bucket off the ground and dumping it in the toilet, face turned away to avoid the smell as best he could. Geoffrey dropped the thing in the sink on his way back to the door, pocketing the flask while he was at it and locking the door behind himself.
It was bitingly cold outside but the sun was shining. Whatever day it was, it was well past afternoon, the buildings casting long shadows but it was still, by any argument, still daytime, too early for any vermin to be crawling the streets and alleyways. Every step felt like a mile but he slowly kept working his way in the direction of headquarters, hoping that he made it there long before night fell.
"Sir! Sir!" Geoffrey felt his head snap up at the shouting, he didn't know how long he'd been walking, or how long he'd been letting his feet guide him home but it was nearly full dark at this point and there was a pair of rookies yelling and rushing toward him. He was barely able to muster the energy to push himself off the wall before they were upon him. He opened his mouth to protest when they both looped arms underneath him to support him but couldn't seem to get his throat to work. One of them put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle in two quick pops, McCullum twitched belatedly, that was loud… there was more shouting up ahead of them but the hunter found that he couldn't must the energy to look, instead letting himself be comforted by the warmth that bracketed him on either side…
-Face your Fears-
This time when Geoffrey opened his eyes it was to look at a very familiar ceiling with the warmth of thick blankets piled on top of him. He groaned, feeling like he was trying to think through cotton but at the very least he was alive… and home he supposed. The last thing that was clear in his memory was the pair of recruits rushing toward him. He must've passed out again, that was a rather embarrassing show of it, he thought, trying to sit up to see what was going on. There was a quick swear from somewhere else in the room and then he could see their medic, Ross rushing over to him.
"Sir! You shouldn't be up and moving-"
"I just want to sit up, give it a rest." Geoffrey managed to say with a startling amount of vehemence. The younger man hesitated and instead of fighting him further on it, grabbed a couple other pillows and shoving them behind him as he managed to get into an upright position. His head throbbed as he blinked at the room but at least he wasn't going to pass out again. A cup was shoved into his hand as Ross fussed around the room and returned.
"Drink that." He said, giving the hardest glare he could muster. The medic wasn't really one for anger so it rather fell flat but McCullum gave him the fact that he probably still needed more water in his system. He raised the glass to his lips and took a tentative sip, it tasted better than what had been in the safehouse but not by much. The commander took stock of himself while he slowly sipped on the water. His muscles and joints still ached something fierce, but his ribs didn't really hurt anymore, nor were any of the scrapes or bruises announcing their presence. His head ached and his stomach was churning but he could be a lot worse for wear after having lost a fight to a leech.
"I want to ask what happened," Ross started, "but Commander Lloyd is going to want to hear this too and I don't want you to strain yourself explaining more than once. Keep drinking that, if you keep it down, I have some broth." He pointed at the water adamantly and Geoffrey took a small sip to appease the man, wondering what had him so concerned. So, he was tired and feeling a touch ill, some food, a bit more rest and he'd be right as rain. Not that they had time for that with the epidemic and all the Skals raging throughout London. He wasn't about to leap out of the bed after Ross however and so let him go get Lloyd while he kept trying to get more water into his cold and dry throat.
It didn't take the medic long to come back with his second in command, the pair of them whispering, rather poorly, about how they hadn't heard anything about the leech doctor, and that Geoffrey had passed their tests to make sure he hadn't been turned himself. McCullum just raised a brow and did it best to look put together as he sat in his sickbed. Lloyd pulled up a chair and Ross went about putting away tools and organizing the small area dedicated to first aid in headquarters, clearly pretending to be interested in what he was doing while he eavesdropped. Geoffrey tried to suppress the urge to scoff at the medic and instead looked to his second, taking in how tired the older man looked. It was a sobering reminder that the other man wasn't as immortal as he'd always seemed in the Irishman's youth.
"How long-" Geoffrey paused to clear his throat and take another sip of the water "how long was I out for?"
"A day and a half since you left to fight the doctor," Lloyd said quietly, "it's been nearly a day since we got you back here."
"It's been three days?" Geoffrey said, unable to keep the shock out of his voice and the sinking sensation in his stomach. Lloyd nodded
"When you didn't come back that night, we assumed the worst, when the rookies found you, we assumed even worse than that, that you'd been turned, or tortured." The second ran a hand over his short grey hair before shaking his head and looking at his leader again. "The fact that you're alive, that you're human… what happened McCullum?"
"He let me go." Geoffrey said, thinking back to what Reid had said, that he'd seemed genuine in what he said. Granted all vampires were liars and master manipulators, but even that wasn't enough to squash the grain of doubt that tickled at the back of his mind.
"He… what? The leech doctor?" Lloyd looked confused
"The very same, I'm still trying to figure that out myself." Geoffrey said, tipping back the last of the water in the cup and setting it back down on the side table next to him. "If we're to take him on again, we'll need to plan long ahead, even with the relic, I couldn't beat him."
"Are we certain he's a newborn?" His second said, fumbling through his pockets for a moment to pull out a pen and some scraps of paper. McCullum nodded
"I checked the data myself, he'd been human when he got on the boat back home at least, and that ride isn't enough time to make a difference, not to mention we'd see more dead in such an isolated group."
"But to beat you, with the relic, with… such a minimum amount of damage…" Lloyd said, affirming to Geoffrey that either he'd been confused about how many hits he'd taken in the fight, or the relic was still working some of its magic on his system, or there was something else strange going on. He didn't want to consider that there was something else was going on here and the relic was the simplest answer.
"Oh he beat the tar out'ta me, but that relic probably damned near saved my life." Geoffrey said, with a mirthless laugh.
"It clearly takes a toll." The older man said, nodding toward him. "You've had a hell of a fever, Ross wasn't sure you were going to make it through…" he trailed off, glancing over at Ross, who'd quit any pretense of not listening to the conversation.
"It was a lot worse yesterday, I'm frankly amazed that you made it back as far as you did sir." The medic chimed in.
"Takes more than a bit of fever to knock me down." Geoffrey said, trying to make light of the situation. The other two looked between each other and then looked at him, clearly worried. Geoffrey sighed. "I'll be more careful in the future, I admit, going alone wasn't the wisest decision I'd ever made, but I was so certain that we had him, that we were going to get the spawn of Marshal and the answers we needed all at once." He stamped a fist on his leg, trying to vent some of the frustration that was mounting inside, made all the worse by how he was seemingly stuck here in bed.
"Please tell me we got something out of Swansea?" he said, changing topic in hopes they'd let his foolish decisions drop for now. Lloyd and Ross looked at each other again and McCullum felt the pit in his stomach sink lower.
"We… lost Swansea. Peters… has a temper and may have taken to roughing him up a bit too far. " Lloyd said finally.
"You've got to be kidding me." Geoffrey exploded. "I've told them. I swear when-"
"I know, but you'll wait for him to recover first." Lloyd interrupted him; Geoffrey felt the fight leave him.
"What?"
"Reid went through the place, beat the living hell out of Peters and his patrol too. He found Swansea, I don't know if the man was dead already when he got there or if Reid wasn't able to save him but either way, Swansea's no more." Lloyd explained. Geoffrey could feel the wheels turning in his mind, processing this new information.
"And Reid didn't kill any of them?" he was getting stuck on that point.
"Not that we've found." Ross said from where he'd reappeared with a bowl of broth. Geoffrey could feel, despite his queasiness, hunger gnawing at his stomach. The medic handed it over and Geoffrey just sat for a moment and allowed the smell to waft into his nose and the warmth to eek into his hands. He took a very hesitant sip of the broth and was disappointed when he had to fight his stomach's reaction to reject it. This was going to take a while to get down, he thought, disappointed.
"And Swansea wasn't able to convince his pet to turn him eh?" Geoffrey asked, unable to resist the urge to make the comment.
"No, the body's been turned over to the police. Who knows if they'll warrant him a proper burial or not, but it's out of our hands. We've had to give up the theater as a temporary shelter with the ongoing investigation." Lloyd said, looking back in his scraps of paper.
"Hmm…" McCullum said, disappointed but not surprised, it was better than realizing they needed to bribe the coppers again, or put up with an investigation while a Great Hunt was on. He took another sip of broth, pleased when it went down a bit better than the first.
It wasn't going down easy but he didn't feel like he was fighting it this time. He took
another large gulp and realized that that was a mistake, his stomach rolling again and it
took him pausing and closing his eyes to fight it back. When he opened them again he
saw Lloyd and Ross looking at him with concern.
"I'm fine." He growled. "Just feeling a bit queasy, have off it." He waved a hand at the
pair of them.
"If you're feeling up to it," Lloyd glanced at Ross, who seemed to consider it for a while
before nodding and moving on to some of his other duties, or other patients. Lloyd
continued "I have the rotations for tonight and I'd like to go over them with you."
Geoffrey was tempted to say no just to get out of dealing with it, but if he was going to be
stuck in bed like this he may as well work on some of the paperwork side of things.
"Fine, hand'em over." He held a hand out to the commander for the papers that he was
currently shuffling out of his pile.
-Face your Fears-
Lloyd kept him plenty busy and kept having to remind him to sip at the broth that was
sitting next to him. Geoffrey had thought that getting through three quarters of it was
sufficient but the old man didn't agree and he had to fight through the remainder of the,
now cold, broth. Once they were through the paperwork, or at least at a point where the
commanders could probably handle it themselves, Lloyd made to move like he was
going to leave Geoffrey alone in the room. McCullum was able to eventually bully the
man into helping him to his room to sleep. He didn't like feeling as weak as a kitten but
at the very least he'd like to be alone in his room instead of feeling eyes weighing him
down in this first aid area. Once the old man closed the door to his room Geoffrey sighed
and leaned back against the beaten headboard behind him. He was so tired… so very
tired… He closed his eyes and fell asleep before he could stop himself.
His dreams were… strange, Geoffrey was accustomed to nightmares or dreamless
sleep, but this… there was someone speaking? The words sounded strange, like people
were speaking underwater. A battlefield? He definitely knew that he heard a horse and
felt the grip of a blade in his hand.
He woke slowly, the edges of the dream trailing away and escaping his grip. He blinked
a few times before reaching clumsily up to wipe at his eyes, everything feeling grimy and
crusty. His head was still throbbing and he felt cold, like he'd swallowed ice or taken a
dip in the river. The hunter pulled his blanket over himself, debating going back to sleep
instead of doing what needed to be done. The itchy fabric didn't help him much, but he
needed to get up and go after the doctor regardless. He needed answers even if he
wasn't going to be able to take him out tonight. A glance at his window confirmed that it
was nighttime, though there was no clock in the room to check the time. Geoffrey took a
deep breath, feeling it catch funny in his throat before sitting up. Despite the headache
and the cold feeling, he felt better than he did yesterday. It could still be some of the
aftereffects of the relic. It took some time to motivate himself to get out of bed, and a lot
of his muscles ached but he could do it, it wasn't like other times he'd gotten roughed up
in the field. McCullum shuffled over to his drawers and looked in the cracked mirror
above. He probably needed to shave, he mused, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He filled
the washbasin and splashed some on his face, shivering at the cold water and finished
freshening up before glancing back up in the mirror.
Something in the reflection gave him pause and he leaned up, looking closer. It looked
like… something around the edge of his eyes looked strange… For a brief second
everything looked dim, like he was aglow from within. McCullum backed up with a
startled shout, nearly falling over. There were a good number of thuds outside and
suddenly Lloyd was bursting into the room.
"McCullum?" he said, looking around the room, looking for the threat. Geoffrey looked at
him, still feeling his heart hammering in his chest.
"Nightmare." He managed, not sure why he was lying to the man. Probably because he
couldn't explain it himself. "Sorry, I'm good, I'm fine." He waved Lloyd off, despite the
fact that the man was trying to open his mouth and ask something else. "I'll be down in a
bit, save me some food, yeah?"
Lloyd nodded and left the room, albeit hesitantly. Geoffrey took a deep breath and ran a
hand through his hair before looking back in the mirror. The strange vision didn't happen
again but he realized with a sinking feeling what he was seeing around his eyes…
