Sophia Warren (twostepsahead) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-04-13 19:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | alistair, iron man, pepper potts |
Who: Silver, Felicia & Kieran
What: Picking up Silver
When: After [this] and [this]
Where: Caesar's -> Garage
Warnings: None
Staying calm in a crisis was something both Felicia and Pepper knew how to do. Unfortunately, Felicia’s crises usually involved someone not showing up when they were supposed to or particularly incriminating photos turning up at inopportune moments. She was in the deep end with this one, doing her best to keep her head above water. Silver had gone to rescue Wren, and yet he was calling because he’d gotten injured. With a knife. Felicia knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Wren had been the one to throw the knife and she was pissed. She had to remind herself that there were extenuating circumstances, that Wren hopefully, probably, hadn’t realized just who she was throwing the knife at. Felicia swore that if Silver didn’t get through this, she’d take it up with Wren personally, extenuating circumstances be damned. Getting to Caesar’s was her number one priority, and she could only hope that her brother would arrive just as quickly. The drive to Caesar’s was a blur in all honesty. She’d blown through a number of yellow lights and one that would come back as a ticket, but she didn’t care. Money was money and that was easily replaceable. Silver wasn’t. Neither is Mr. Stark, came Pepper’s quick response.
“If you don’t shut up, I’m not letting you through for a week,” Felicia hissed quietly, hopefully low enough that Silver didn’t hear. He didn’t need to worry about her issues with Pepper, not ever and certainly not now. She pulled her car up to the front and it was clear that she was in a hurry. A twenty was tossed at the valet as she passed, the phone to her ear as she quickly tried to deduce where the villa was that Silver had mentioned. There was a sense of urgency about her that one of the staff members picked up on. She didn’t even let him speak. “Where’s the villa?” She spoke with authority, almost daring him to question her motives, like she’d see him fired on the spot if he didn’t reply fast enough. He was silent for a brief second before pointing her in the right direction.
“I’m almost there,” she told Silver hurriedly, setting him on speaker for a moment so that she could give Kieran the directions he needed to get to them without having to stop and ask.
Kieran was hurrying as best as he could. He tried not to make a habit of answering these kinds of calls. What couldn’t be taken to an ER or the clinic or flagged an ambulance for was often something or someone that would make him regret saying yes. But this was his sister and she didn’t cash in family favors like this often enough for him to put the phone down. He grabbed his bag without much more ado, stuffing it full with everything he could possibly need to treat this deceptively simple sounding knife wound.
He wasn’t too far from Caesars Palace and in no time his cab let him out in the main lobby. He took one step before realizing he had no idea where he should be. His feet took him through the casino, deftly stepping around the gamblers and cocktail waitresses as he followed hotel signs. Even if he didn’t know exactly where to be, he knew this wounded friend of Felicia’s wouldn’t be somewhere out in the open like the casino or the shopping areas. He was wagering the hotels or the residential suites and texted her a quick here. Where to? as he moved through the crowd.
Felica's phone buzzed against her ear and she pulled it away to click through the message Kieran sent her. Villa. Through the lobby, follow the signs. Be careful Not the most efficient of directions, but her mind was elsewhere and she honestly couldn't recall the exact twists and turns she'd taken that led her to the villa Wren called home. That bit of information was filed away absently as she cautiously approached. "Silver?" she called, knowing he'd at least be able to hear her through the phone. "I'm here, so is my brother. Just tell me how to get to you." The last part was directed to the phone as she carefully stepped closer. Glass littered the floor and the doors were in a sorry state. There was going to be fallout from the hotel staff, she was sure of it. It was just a matter of when someone would realize that something was wrong.
Thinking about logistics and PR helped center her and Felicia was glad that she wasn't the type to start bawling when someone she cared about got hurt. There would be time to piece together a sequence of events once everyone was okay and then whoever was responsible would be dealt with. Felicia knew she wouldn't be able, or allowed, to help in that regard, but that was alright so long as whoever it was that had done this didn't get away with it.
Silver had received a great deal of training to handle situations like this, but first aid and weapons training had come second to the lessons prioritized by the Company, lessons designed to keep him calm when there was no reason to be calm, measures to destroy information so it did not fall into the wrong hands, tactics to keep the mind apart from the body in case of capture. Spooks earned the name because they were ghosts, transparent when they wanted to be, and gone when they needed to be. Bleeding at poolside was a worst-case scenario, but under the influence of the gas that was still dissipating, Silver saw all the spectres of his career and his youth watching him, waiting to pounce. His superiors, to whom he was a potential liability and a possible target, old enemies, even new friends he worried were not all they seemed--caution was the name of Silver’s game, and he saw the irony of the chemical’s effects even as he dragged himself out of the immediate sunlight and under the pseudo-shelter of a large potted palm.
Felicia’s voice was now in his ear, and Silver couldn’t tell if the things he was thinking--concern about the effects of the chemical on Felicia, Tony’s worry and irritation about the situation--were audible or not. He had done the most basic of background checks on Felicia, something designed only to verify her claims years ago when he had first found her in charge of the garage, and he knew she had a brother, but that was almost all he knew. When he left the government’s employ Silver had vowed to himself that he would conquer inquisitiveness and only aggregate information that was essential for survival. He’d broken that vow and now he was bleeding in Caesar’s Palace. It was almost enough to inspire belief in karma.
Incredibly, he still had the gun in his hand, almost part of him, and he didn’t feel its weight when he brought it up at the sound of more voices calling his name. There were many voices, some of them his and some of them Tony’s, but with two consciousnesses between them, Tony and Silver consulting and did a decent job of separating the real from the false. Silver knew Luke and Wren were gone, even if he didn’t know how long it had been since. “Jarvis, verify... lifeform?” Jarvis was happy to comply, and told his earpiece that yes, indeed, Felicia was approaching at fifteen yards. “Felicia.” Silver did not attempt to get up. He was slumped against the terracotta planter, tipping slightly to one side, pressing against the injury with a palm and wondering how bad it was while he was conscious enough to do so. The crop had floated to the shallow end, nearly out of sight, but the metal knife still glinted at poolside and a rapidly drying blood trail tracked his movement from the diving board to where he was, about twenty yards away near the edge of the patio.
She moved cautiously through the door, aware of the warning Silver had given her about the air in the apartment. Trying to keep her breathing shallow, Felicia peered through the rooms, trying to discern where Silver was. Despite her efforts, she found herself growing anxious. Rationally, she knew that Silver would have called 911 if the injury was bad enough to risk whatever fallout might happen with a hospital. She gripped the phone tight as she held it against her ear, her breaths coming quicker as she moved through the villa. By luck, she picked the right door second to venture through and the sight of a crop floating in the pool had her moving further in. If Wren had been there, Silver likely was too.
She came across the blood trail next, and then she heard him, echoed behind her. Felicia spun on her heels, dropping her arm to her side before moving quickly to his side. “Silver!” She knelt down next to him and gave him a cursory glance over before texting her brother again. Back room, on the patio. She dropped her phone on the ground next to her and she hovered over Silver. The gun hadn’t even been noticed until she felt the metal against her leg. It only made her pause for a moment, before she focused on the way he was pressing against the wound. Felicia looked helpless, she knew that. She felt helpless, lacking in knowledge or skill to even attempt to do anything else, and there was a fear there that he might not survive. Her expression turned angry for a moment as she pushed the thought aside. That wasn’t an option. “You’re going to be okay,” she said, and her tone made it clear that he didn’t have a choice. “Kieran, he’s my brother. He’s almost here. He’ll fix you up, and then we’ll get you home, okay? It’s gonna be alright.” She heard movement outside and she turned her head toward the doorway. “Kieran? Over here!”
“Yeah,” the brother called out, following the directions on his phone and trying to shake the nervous feeling that was creeping up his spine. Emergency. Knife wound. And in the Caesars Palace villas, one the richest corners of Vegas he had barely even heard of. Great, it was all just fucking great. It suddenly occurred to him that, while generally close to his sister, between their busy schedules, he had no idea what she had been up to these days. Or who she was associating with. He hefted his bag over his shoulder once more as he tried to calm his nerves but that presence in the back of his mind - usually so quiet and content to let things go - refused to let him lower his guard. Alistair never did like entering battle, potential or otherwise, without being alert.
He followed Felicia’s voice, and then the trail of blood that moved into his line of sight. The immediately protective urge to get his sister away from whatever was the source was quickly quashed when he caught sight of the man, and he hurried quickly to join them, pulling his back over his shoulder and dropping down beside them. “This your friend?” As if that wasn’t obvious, but the question rolled out easily, just a quick distraction to get frantic look off Felicia’s face, even for a moment. A name would’ve been nice too but Kieran knew proper introductions fell a few rungs down down the ladder of importance in times like this.
“And let’s take a look at that,” his chin pointed slightly to Silver’s hand pressing against his injury, before shifting his attention back to open up his bag for his things.
There was a lot of blood, but not so much that they need be worried about Silver dying right there on the spot. Felicia was right; if Silver was afraid for his life, he would have called faster, louder help. He was looking pale, but he was still conscious. The voices were receding somewhat, the ones from Tony’s cave. Silver looked at Keiran with no recognition and not a great deal of trust, but he took his arm and hand away with a groan. “Patch it. We need to leave quickly.” The suitcoat, the shirt and tie, they confused things. The knife was not made for throwing, balance was off, but it was long and wicked, and it got through a good inch before it scraped up and came free from his flesh. The wound was messy and bloody, but not life threatening as long as he didn’t bleed out. He twitched away from the sound of an explosion that wasn’t there. “Quickly.”
“I’m movin’, I’m movin’,” Kieran muttered, holding back any snarky comments with more than a touch of effort. The man already sacrificed speed for secrecy but even Kieran knew rubbing it in someone’s face wasn’t exactly the best thing to do. That and he still had no idea how this guy knew his sister, and was still debating on whether he truly wanted to know. Instead he focused on doing what he came to do, patching up the wound as quickly as he could, only breaking his occasional silence to ask Felicia for something or another in his bag. It didn’t take long, it wasn’t as dire of an emergency as initially thought, and eventually Kieran settled back on the balls of his feet, surveying his work before finishing up his final bandaging. “You know the drill or do I need to give you the usual rundown on resting, relaxing and not ripping those open?”
Silver looked over at his side, trying not to breathe too heavily but not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t in pain, and next attempted to carefully maneuver his coat back over his shoulder. “Noted.” The shirt was done for, but the coat was black and he could get out of the hotel without too much attention, hopefully. The hotel would gloss over violence as long as there was no bodies and a lot of money, and no one would come looking for him, Wren, or the person who did this--no one that they didn’t want to go looking, anyway. Silver would have to handle the local CIA detail that was assigned to watch him, but he was pretty sure they hadn’t tailed him here, so that would have to be good enough. “Felicia,” he said, putting a hand out on his good side for Kieran’s shoulder to work himself upright, “get the knife. Careful, it has moving parts.” The blood loss was making his head spin, and he swayed a little on the spot before finding his feet.
It was a very good thing she’d called Kieran, though she completely forgot that she failed to mention who Silver was or how she knew him. It wasn’t important information, at least to her. She knew she’d probably have to answer some questions later, but it would be worth it and she’d happily do it from Silver’s bedside. She helped Kieran and watched, her anxiety making it a little difficult to keep calm. Pepper helped in that regard, focusing her on the facts and not the zillion ‘what ifs?’ running through her mind. As soon as Kieran was done, Silver was moving his jacket, and she automatically reached to help him. He wasn’t getting out of bed for at least a few days, and any earlier hesitancy she might’ve had to corner him was gone.
His request for the knife had her nodding and she stripped off her own jacket, using the fabric to pick up the bloodied knife. She had no intention of accidentally hurting herself. Once it was wrapped up, she reached for his gun, clicking on the safety before sliding it into the bundle as well. Her skirt wasn’t designed to leave room for a gun at the small of her back and without her jacket to hide it, she didn’t want to risk it. No doubt both men would question that particular bit of knowledge later, but she didn’t care. “Come on, my car’s out front. Let’s get you home,” she said, putting the bundle of her jacket underneath her arm as she moved to Silver’s other side, gingerly helping him up. She didn’t bother asking if Kieran would help her get Silver to her car, assuming he would. Even if he didn’t, they’d manage and she wouldn’t hold it against him.
Kieran wasn’t looking. Nope. He was closing his eyes or staring down at his bag because he very pointedly did not want to know why his sister was wrapping a bloody weapon in her clothes and hiding it. These were just questions and answers that he simply did not want to know right now and only when Felicia mentioned a car did he turn his attention back to them, slinging his bag over his shoulder and looping his free arm around Silver to help him up and about to Felicia’s car. Attracting undue attention was the very last thing he wanted and he helped them move as quickly and quietly as possible, only giving them berth once they were at her car.
“You have this under control?” Though he glanced up at Silver, his attention quickly shifted back to Felicia, to whom the question was really directed to. He didn’t doubt for one second she wasn’t going to let this guy out of her sight.
The walk to the car was agonizing in that Felicia just wanted to get home as quickly as possible. She didn’t want people gawking or asking questions she didn’t have the time or inclination to answer. Her car, thankfully was still in the front and she fished out her last bit of cash to hand to the valet in thanks for keeping her car so close. Silver was situated as comfortably as he could and Felicia paused for a moment to say goodbye to her brother. “Yea, I’ve got it. Thanks, Kier. I’ll explain later, alright?” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before striding to the driver’s side and sliding into the vehicle. It took mere moments for her to buckle up, start the car, and glance at Silver once more before pulling out of Caesar’s. They’d come back for his car later, or she’d send a tow truck to bring it to the garage. Either way, it wasn’t the priority right now.
Felicia drove much more calmly on the return trip, cautious of Silver’s condition and no longer in a frenzied rush. She kept quiet, focusing on the road and the traffic, glancing only occasionally at Silver. She was still worried, but the anxiety was fading fast. Kieran was good at what he did and she’d make sure Silver took the time to actually rest and heal. Felicia pulled right into the garage, taking the door closest to the elevator that would lead them upstairs where Silver’s room was. Her office and another spare room for herself was there as well. The bundle with the weapons stayed in the car as she got out to help Silver. “How’re you doing?” she asked softly, her voice wavering only slightly at first before evening out into a calm, collected tone. “Hanging in there?”
Silver didn’t remember the transfer from the villa to Felicia’s car. The movement took several shades of color out from his skin, usually the dusk of autumn and now something closer to coming winter, a bluish tinge around the edges of his mouth and his chest. A cold sweat glistened along his hairline at the back of his neck, and for the most part he concentrated on staying upright and hiding the stained jacket in the shadow of Felicia’s bundled jacket. Tony was quiet, but both were grateful that this was nothing like the invisible knives courtesy of that damn magnet during the confrontation with Loki. This was plain old cut and bleed. Silver didn’t have all that much experience with injuries--he was a spook not a marine--and he wished it could stay that way.
He dozed off during the ride to the garage, and it felt like time travel when he opened his eyes again. The familiar claustrophobic smell of oil-stained cement was reassuring, and even his small dose of the gas couldn’t convince him that there were dangers hiding here he didn’t know about. A vow was a vow, but Silver wasn’t stupid, and he had certain precautions in place, low-tech and (now, with Tony’s help) high-. “Yes,” Silver said, more for her than himself, and he maneuvered out of the car with her help. He hung back, however, glancing back at the car. “Did you get the knife?” Too much training to leave behind that kind of evidence.
In the light of the garage bay, Felicia could get a good look at him and she wished she could be more helpful. He looked horrible and, oddly enough, Pepper could see why they were all getting on her case about staying out of danger. She wisely stayed silent as Felicia focused on Silver, intent on guiding him up to his room. The four of them were all a little too alike, but there wasn’t much they could do about it except try to learn from it. “Don’t lie to me,” she said quietly, though she wasn’t angry about his answer. “I did,” she promised him. “And your gun. I’ll take care of them, okay?” She was at his side, the uninjured one, and put her arm around his waist gingerly to encourage him to lean some of his weight on her.
“Come on, let’s get you upstairs.” He needed to be in bed, sleeping more than likely. She’d clean the knife and put it in the safe with the gun until he was feeling better. Felicia led him to the elevator and pressed the button to open the doors. It’s standing position was on the first floor, so they didn’t have to wait. She was more than happy that she’d gone with the elevator, even though it had been a bit of an odd choice at the time.
Silver didn’t see that he was lying, because he was hanging in there, and as long as nothing got infected he wouldn’t die. He hurt and he was very tired, but he didn’t feel like screaming or curling into a ball, and that was something. Tony was no help with the conundrum, giving him the emotional equivalent of a shrug, and Silver turned his attention again to the present. He was reluctant to lean on her, but he had to after a certain point to prevent from pulling the new stitches. He wouldn’t get in the elevator without the weapons, stubbornly setting his heels in. “No, I need both.” He had to keep both incriminating items in his possession, and he didn’t want them cleaned or missing.
She let him dictate how helpful she could be in supporting him, but she didn’t leave his side or change the way she held herself next to him. There was a small bit of relief when he finally did lean on her, but that evaporated when he insisted about the gun and the knife. She pulled back just enough to get a good look at him, searching his eyes for any indication that she could successfully argue getting him up to bed first. It took her all of thirty seconds to nod. Once Felicia was sure he wouldn’t collapse on the spot as soon as she moved, she retrieved the bundle from the car, tucked under her arm again.
The elevator door had opened just as she stepped away. Thankfully, she’d had the settings adjusted when the elevator first went in, dictating that the doors should remain open for two minutes before closing again. Felicia stepped up next to him, ready to support at least some of his weight and move him into the elevator. “Is the door to your room locked?” she asked, guessing it was but unsure of where his keys were. She wasn’t about to go fishing in his pockets, particularly without asking first.
Silver found things to lean on in Felicia’s absence and he was half her weight again so he tried to avoid crushing her. He was satisfied once she retrieved her stained jacket with the weapons in it, and reflected how strange it was to not have the gun’s weight in the now empty holster under his jacket. “In a way.” Silver had thought the elevator an odd choice, too, but in his usual fashion he hadn’t said anything when she installed it. At the time he thought that perhaps she had an old injury or some objection to the admittedly steep stairwell located outside, and Silver was nothing if not tolerant of other people’s preferences.
The second floor was her office and a dark hallway, but Tony had just finished assisting him in installing a lock that was very much like the one he had on his lab, only with a steel frame and door. If Tony was going to be storing tech in Vegas, he wanted someplace safer than Silver’s van. Silver himself had nothing valuable other than his weapons, which were typically in a lock-box behind the near empty dresser. The single room used to be storage, and it was unclothed cement and a cot. It now held some crates with the Stark Industries logo on them stacked in one corner. Silver used Felicia’s shoulder until the cot, on which he sat heavily. It had a pillow and a thin blanket, all of which looked like army surplus. “Thank you.”
In truth, Felicia had half expected to be dealing with a lot of elderly customers in need of hand holding and she preferred to do that from the comfort of her office. The storage closet had been expanded for Silver, and she'd given him money to furnish as he saw fit. It became fairly obvious that he hadn't used it as soon as she stepped inside. The first thing she was going to do was get him better blankets and pillows, and as soon as he was feeling better, a decent bed frame and mattress.
"You're welcome," Felicia replied softly, standing in front of him. "I'll get you some more blankets and a better pillow. One second." She went to her office quickly, opening the closet there to grab the pillow and blankets she used for the nights she slept on her couch. She hurried back to Silver's room and the differences between her thin comforter like blanket and plush, memory foam pillow from his supplies were obvious. "Here, you'll be more comfortable with these." Her bundled jacket was left on his dresser in favor of helping him remove his jacket and shirt.
No, Silver didn’t take furnishing money well. He had more money stored away--in all kinds of strange places, as well as nice a nice normal bank under his nice normal social security number--and certainly seemed to spend very little except on his day-to-day and car expenses. All the same, he never took a job he didn’t want, and he certainly wasn’t reduced to driving a cab around. The lack of a steady income could be explained by the fact that during the winter months he lived in a van. Maybe.
“I don’t need--” but she was gone already, and Silver heaved a sigh that he regretted when it pulled at his stitches. He woke up again out of another of his dozes when she returned. Fortunately he’d bought several button-up shirts after the debacle with Tony’s heart, and he got out of the stained jacket and the shirt with the same amount of difficulty. The phone was still in his coat pocket, and he left it there. He looked down at the bandaging sticking to his ribs just under one elbow, thinking that Felicia’s brother had done a good job, and then tipped over to lie flat. He would wait until she left to move the plushy-feeling pillow and replace it with his old lumpy one, and stow the earpiece with Jarvis’ voice under it. “Thank you,” he said again, opening his eyes all the way up and directing his gaze at her. The hazel was very green even in the poor light of the renovated storage closet. “I’ve been a lot of trouble lately.” Sideways smile.
This was something she could do. She could make sure that he was comfortable and then she would make sure that everything was taken care of over at Caesar’s. A former client was working there, she was fairly certain, and she could always rustle up some other avenues of information to get everything squared away. She'd do her best to have it fixed up by the time Wren got back, that was certain, though she didn’t have a clue where the woman was. Her train of thought was disrupted as Silver moved to lie flat on the cot. She had half a mind to bring him over to her apartment, but he needed rest, first and foremost.
Felicia crouched next to his cot, not quite kneeling and not quite sitting on the side of it. She didn’t want to crowd him. “You’re welcome,” she replied softly, taking his hand in both of hers. “Not too much trouble,” she promised, her own smile matching his. She was just glad that he was alright. “Just rest for a while okay?” Her hands tightened around his, though she didn’t mean to. Silver was one of the few constants in her life, the only real voluntary one, and Felicia didn’t want to lose him.
Silver didn’t have many constants, either. The analysts would tell him to grow some roots, get some friends, and he could practically hear the Company-assigned psychiatrist saying the same thing. It wasn’t that he disliked people, he was just naturally private, his clients likewise, and he didn’t pry into people’s lives anymore, and that combined with old habit made conversation difficult. He squeezed her hand and shut his eyes, too tired to think more on it. “If anyone asks you, you just came and picked me up. Don’t mention weapons or wound, you didn’t notice anything when you met me at the door, okay?” Without the weapons and with the blind spot he’d chosen on the patio, no one could prove there was a crime, and with no proof, no one had a legal reason to hound Felicia or Wren. “Tell your brother same.” He let his hand relax in hers.
As soon as his eyes closed, Felicia’s smile fell just slightly. “Alright, I got it. You just rest alright?” She didn’t let go of his hand or move until his breathing evened out and she was sure that he was asleep. It would only take a little while for her to check up on work and make a few phone calls. Once that was done, she grabbed her spare charger and her comfortable desk chair, and went back to Silver’s room. She’d stay until he woke and then they’d go from there.