faith_5_by_5 (faith_5_by_5) wrote in city_limits, @ 2009-04-28 23:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | connor reilly, faith lehane |
Getting Back
Construction had already started on the outskirts of Lincoln Park, machinery sitting silent in the gloom of night, and Connor sat down on a stack of drywall and looked at his watch. The paper said it was expected to rain tonight, and he was already measuring up how that would affect his hearing and sight if it did. He could smell sawdust, the detritus of a building project just begun. He couldn't believe they were opening up this place to the general public. Was that what they meant by progress?
Still, he supposed that if the Collector would show anywhere, it would be here. He'd been understandably reluctant to give Faith a call, but she was the only one able to provide the backup he needed. With Kris in the clutches of somebody like Katherine and Rhiannon sidelined by her own run-in with this creep, the brunette Slayer was his last resort, almost literally. At least this wouldn't involve a lot of talking.
The Destroyer looked up at the overcast sky, saw a single star trying to poke through the cloud cover before disappearing again. He'd told Faith to come lightly armed, since they had to take this guy down uninjured to find out what he'd done with his stolen treasures. He felt proud of himself for having thought of this, even if it didn't work. He'd never been much of a planner, but he wanted to help. Maybe he could be more than a foot soldier at some point.
Honestly surprised by Connor's request, Faith found herself nonethless compelled to agree. Not just because she appreciated that he trusted her at least enough to ask for her help, but because she wanted whoever was stealing powers dealt with. She hated knowing that Rhiannon was part of this, and the Slayer wanted to do what little she could. Faith realized she traditionally hadn't played well with others, but the last few times had actually gone rather well.
Besides, if all went well tonight, she'd be helping out a friend. At this point, she was just glad she still had a few.
Approaching the stack of drywall on which Connor sat -- and simultaneously realizing how stupid an idea it was to open this place for human habitation again -- the Slayer slid her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. It felt awkward not carrying a small arsenal with her, but the Destroyer's request not to come armed to the teeth made sense. She just hoped they didn't encounter anything unexpected tonight.
"Tell ya one thing," she joked, trying to break the ice. This was probably going to be awkward enough. "Rent won't cost much here."
Realizing Faith was trying to keep the mood light, Connor allowed himself to smile a little. "Glad you could make it," he said, getting up from his seat and brushing lightly at the seat of his pants. "What'd you bring? I didn't hear you rattling half a block before you got here, you must not have brought everything you own."
He put his hands into the small of his back and stretched, studying the construction equipment. Lots of places to hide, but he had experience with that. He would just make it look like a normal night of patrolling. If this guy was anywhere around, they'd find him.
"Weather's threatening rain, I can smell it. Maybe not now, but soon."
"Just a stake," she answered, already taking the chance to glance at her surroundings. She saw all the nooks and crannies, the dark places where honestly anything could hide. She heard all the official reports and studies that the place was safe for human living again, but the Slayer didn't believe it. She knew what was back here, and she would never be convinced of Lincoln Park's safety.
"Thought about a dagger too, but ... I got the feeling you wanted this guy relatively unharmed."
It was weird, having to think like that. Faith was used to loading up on weapons and whaling on whatever nasty she came across; patrolling without the ultmaite intent of maiming or killing was new to her. Then again, it made sense; if they incapacitated or killed this guy -- or thing, whichever -- finding out how to give everyone their powers back would be much harder, if not impossible.
Still, it was a little odd.
"Think the rain'll help or hurt?"
"Relatively unharmed," the Destroyer said with a nod. "I'm likely to knock the crap out of him, but we don't want permanent damage until we've got this thing solved. After that...well, who knows?"
He supposed he should be more uncomfortable with the idea that some 'permanent' would have to be done, but he kept thinking of having to walk Rhiannon out of Jackson Park as if she were someone's elderly grandmother who'd just been mugged. It made his stomach hurt. He would never be able to tell Faith how helpless he'd felt.
"We should get going," he said, pointing off towards where the skeleton of a building had been put up. "Stay far enough apart that it doesn't look suspicious, but close enough that you can hear if I holler. If it starts to rain, you can draw closer. I'm used to fighting in less than ideal conditions, how about you?"
"Try slaying in Boston in January," she said with a grin. "Little rain's five by five."
This is for Rhi, she kept reminding herself, as a way to stave off the creepy feelings the Slayer was getting from just being in this area. She didn't like how barren her surroundings were; a place being rebuilt like Lincoln Park was prime ground for vampires and other nasties. She was glad none of the construction workers were out after sunset; they, at least, appeared to have the sense to go away once nightfall came.
Still, every noise made Faith jolt a little, even if only internally. Her eyes danced around the construction equipment and the framework of one of the buildings, keeping her hands at her sides in case she had to grab her lone weapon at a moment's notice.
Faith wasn't scared, but she was getting anxious.
Pointing to her left, the Slayer offered, "I can head over there, other side of the bulldozer. Keeps distance between us, but we're not too far apart."
Connor was assessing things with the practiced stare of the longtime hunter, and after a moment he nodded. He'd come out without a jacket, his shirt tucked into the waistband of his old jeans. His hands hung loose and relaxed at his sides, but there was a telltale tightness in his belly, the excitement of the hunt, of having a mission ahead of him.
"We might not even see anything," he said, but it was clear from his tone that he didn't believe it. "If you get in trouble, yell out. Don't get yourself hemmed up, don't try to take on half a dozen whatever by yourself. Okay?"
"You got it."
Faith had always had trust issues, but nowadays those issues seemed to center on getting others to trust her. She wasn't quite sure if she deserved the trust Connor showed her in asking for her help, but she was grateful for it -- which meant she'd play the good soldier and do as asked. If that meant calling out for help if things got too rough, than Faith -- traditional loner -- would call out for help.
Her steps were slow, heel-to-toe. That was the quietest way to sneak around; Faith certainly didn't want to alert whoever or whatever this thing was to their presence. That would render the entire exercise moot. She considered grabbing her weapon and keeping it at the ready in her grasp, but that too seemed unnecessary. She didn't want to scare off any harmless beings who might be out here, because that too would probably announce their presence.
Hearing a few tree branches rustle behind her, Faith turned on the balls of her feet. Her frown turned into a sigh when she saw a couple doves fly off into the night. The Slayer shook her head, beginning her methodical pursuit once more.
Wherever this guy was, she hoped he showed soon.
Connor stood still as Faith started to move, listening to the noises of the night and sorting out the smells on the breeze. Then he began to walk, gradually pacing off the distance between himself and a bulldozer before disappearing behind for a second. He liked to think that even if it poured down rain tonight, he'd still be able to distinguish when trouble showed up. He'd fought under worse conditions than just a little rain, after all. In the distance, he heard the sounds of traffic.
Plastic rustled, and he picked out a stack of still-wrapped lumber hulking in the darkness. There weren't many streetlights around the site, and the Destroyer climbed up on top of the boards, taking care to balance properly so he didn't slip. It was a fair vantage point, and he looked beyond the Slayer's form, eyes sharp as he looked for the sight of anything else moving.
Nothing.
Well, no one said this was going to be a cakewalk. Connor climbed down, started prowling again. He could almost feel something out there, even if he couldn't see it.
A squeaking rat scampered along the ground in front of Faith, causing the Slayer to jump and produce her stake. She sighed when the creature's tail disappeared into a shadow, putting the stake back in its hiding spot and shaking her head. Faith hated being this on-edge, especially since it wasn't out of fear. The anticipation of finding something -- even if it wasn't who they were looking for -- was so palpable, Faith was almost sure she could smell it.
Glancing in the distance to make sure she wasn't separated from Connor too much, the Slayer turned her attention back to another skeletal building structure. She approached the framework cautiously, keeping her steps as quiet as she could. A cat meowed as it rummaged through a trash can on the other side of the steel beams.
The Slayer stole a quick glance to ensure it was just a cat, and not some mutant thing, just in time to see a vampire emerge from the shadows and grab the feline. Without even thinking, Faith produced her stake, lept into the air and slammed the bottom of her left foot against the vampire's jaw. The creature stumbled back into the trash can, knocking it over with a loud crash. Faith cursed herself, thinking that if the person they were after was hiding, he'd just been alerted to their presence.
Oh, well.
Staking the vampire before he had a chance to get back up, Faith brushed the dust off her arms before waving at Connor. "Just a vamp," she called out, glancing to her left and squinting into another alley nearby. She thought of using the fact that he was after a cat as an opportunity for innuendo, but thought better of it.
"Find anything yet?"
He had heard the crash, felt the hairs on the back of his neck stir, but at Faith's assurance that it was only a vampire he shook his head and called back, "Nothing. Maybe there's a nest around here, though, so watch your back."
He rounded a corner, squinted into the darkness ahead, started to pick his way across open ground. There were trucks here, pickups marked with the logo of a local construction company, and he absently trailed a finger through the dust on one of them as he walked past. Then he rather whimsically stopped and wrote WASH ME! on the front fender.
Connor had started to walk again when he heard gravel crunching ahead of him, and he ducked behind one of the trucks to see an old Buick sedan roll into the lot of the site. The headlights went out, and three figures got out. Voices drifted in his direction, but he couldn't make the words out. One of them went back towards the trunk, unlocked it, his mouth still running. When the lid came up, he reached inside, hauled something out. Connor felt his mouth tighten into a narrow line.
Not something. Someone.
Hearing the crunch of the gravel as well, Faith found the closest thing she could to a wall and pressed her back to it, glancing over the corner to see what she could spot. There wasn't much she could see from that vantage point, so the Slayer quietly moved a little closer, finding Connor behind one of the construction trucks. Confusion turned into disgust when she saw what the Destroyer saw.
Someone was being pulled out of the trunk of a car. Faith couldn't see much more than that, adrenaline and exhertion from her brief encounter with that vampire clouding her vision. She could also feel a little vampire dust in her eyebrows and on her forehead, which she quickly brushed off with her thumb.
From what Faith could tell, everyone was human. So unless she was completely off in that assessment, no weapons needed. She glanced to her right at Connor, saw his expression. The Slayer felt a moment's hesitation, and she hoped these guys weren't human. She really didn't feel like opening that can of worms again.
Not now?
"What's the plan?" she whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as it could go.
"We see what they're doing." Connor drew closer to Faith so he could speak more quietly, then added, "I doubt they're hauling people around in their trunk for nice reasons. Rhiannon said the guy drove a white station wagon, but he might have changed cars. You swing around and try to get behind them. I'll come up in front. Maybe it's just dumb kids."
The four newcomers had started towards one of the newly-constructed buildings, one with more work done on it. The former trunk dweller's hands were tied. Connor's lips had almost disappeared. Kids, his ass. They were definitely up to no good.
With a nod, Faith began her slow and quiet trek around the back of the trio. She used one of the buildings still under construction as a buffer, a way to get around without much chance of them noticing her. She came around the corner just in time to see the men carrying the other person toward the building she'd just wheeled around, and the Slayer grinned at her good timing.
Still keeping a bit of distance, Faith tried to tail the threesome as best she could, peeking out of the corner of her eye every few seconds to see if Connor was acting. Faith was determined not to do anything until he made the first move; wanting to prove herself to her former friend, the Slayer figured the best way would be not to jump in on her own, acting out of pure impulse.
It was hard, going against her nature like this, but Faith had to try.
Connor was moving fast, his steps light and assured as he dodged the small pools of light that managed to filter in from the street. Three of them against him and Faith. That was more than a fair match. As he drew nearer, he could hear muffled curses as the unknown miscreants bundled their captive inside, then the thump of a body hitting a solid surface.
He waited until he could see Faith from where he stood, then ducked around the corner and inside the building as well. It took him a second to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, but when he saw the candles being lit it got easier. There was a box pushed up against a far wall, and one of the people from the car went over to it and lifted the lid. "You sure this is supposed to work, Mark?"
"Of course it'll work." The second of them was still standing over the bound figure, the third hovering nearby, looking anxious. "The book says we have to make a blood sacrifice for Osiris to hear our prayers. Did you bring the knife, the one we blessed before?"
Oh, lovely. Connor made a disgusted sound as he stepped into the dim light of the candles. "You can come out now, Faith," he said a little dryly. "I don't think this is going to be as much trouble as I thought."
Having followed Connor's movements almost exactly -- again, not wanting to step out of line and potentially do something to mess this whole thing up -- Faith heard the same thing Connor did. Her face scrunched into a look of disgust and the Slayer rolled her eyes. All this for some fucked-up sacrifice ritual? Jesus fuck ... then again, what better place to do shit like that than the scene of one of Chicago's largest supernatural disasters?
Still, the idea of the thing was enough to make Faith's stomach churn.
Fighting that sensation with a deep breath, the Slayer emerged from the darkness to Connor's right, her hands stuffed into the back pockets of her jeans. Her shoulders shrugged a bit as she gave the Destroyer a bemused smirk, shaking her head.
"Boy," she quipped, "you guys aren't ready for Professor Snape's final at all, are you?"
They didn't look too much younger than Connor himself, and the apparent leader's voice squeaked a little when he said, "This is a very important ritual. The great god Osiris promises power beyond all reckoning to those who serve. You cant just ..."
"How'd you like me to break your head open?" Connor's voice was conversational, and he pushed the other guy aside as he moved towards the unfortunate would-be victim. She was somewhere in her twenties, and the Destroyer had half a mind to break a few of the guy's ribs anyway. There was a cut above her left eye, the other one swollen shut, and he grumbled under his breath as he started pulling at her bonds. One thing about having the supernatural out in the open, it brought out the amateurs like no one's business.
There was the sound of shoes as the third conspirator finally moved, and Connor felt an arm going around his neck as the other man tried dragging him away. He got traction with his shoes, drove an elbow backwards into an unprepared stomach, then reached backwards with the other arm and wrapped it around the back of the dude's neck to flip him over his shoulder onto the floor with a whump. He'd really hoped to avoid a fight, but he wasn't going to play around with these dudes either.
The last thing Faith wanted was for this to turn into a fistfight, but as one of the men attacked Connor and the other bum-rushed the Slayer, she resigned herself to having to throw a few punches. The Slayer sighed, stepping to her right before grabbing her assailant by the wrist, flipping him over until he landed on the floor on his back. Faith pressed her right boot onto the man's chest, noticing he looked as if he was probably some frat boy.
"Little tip," she quipped, a hint of condescension in her tone, "leave the ritual sacrifice to the experts."
Grabbing the collar of the man's olive-green shirt, Faith forced him back onto his feet. She snarled, her free hand balled into a tight fist and raised behind her head. The image of Jessica flashed through the Slayer's mind, causing her to hesitate. That hesitation would've cost Faith with a demon or vampire, but this young man did nothing but shake and stare at Faith with fear in his eyes. The Slayer snarled again, pushing the man out the door.
"Get the fuck outta here ... go find a kegger or something."
Returning her attention to Connor, she saw the third would-be sacrificer coming up to the Destroyer from behind. The blade was over his head, shining under the dim light. "Behind you!" she called out, running to the table and undoing the restraints on the woman.
Connor turned, and the tip of the knife blade caught in his shirt sleeve, ripping the fabric. He finished the turn, then dealt a carefully-measured kick to the man's solar plexus. There was an audible noise as all the air left the would-be attacker's lungs, and he collapsed in an untidy heap near the table. "Idiot," the Destroyer muttered, looking at his torn shirt. "Next time I say don't do something, don't do it."
He cut his eyes in Faith's direction, not trusting the remaining college kid not to move. "Is she hurt bad? Does she need an ambulance, do you think? I have my phone, we can call the cops. I think they need an object lesson."
"Cops, yes," Faith agreed, helping the woman sit up straight and examining the depth of her cuts. "Don't think we need an ambulance. She doesn't look like she's hurt that bad."
Glancing Connor's way, the Slayer eyed the torn sleeve. That appeared to be all there was to it, for which Faith was thankful. The three guys were probably hurt, but they deserved it. Truth be told, the Destroyer and Slayer pulled their punches anyway. Faith was especially careful, given her recent transgressions. Reminded of that, Faith realized what the detective who arrested her had said about laying low. She'd forgotten that little detail.
"But if we're callin' the cops," she added, "I probably better jet. Somethin' tells me they don't wanna see me again. You good?"
"Not even a scratch." Connor almost sounded disappointed, and he picked up the knife and examined it. He was going to throw the stupid thing away when he got away from the construction site. Such ridiculousness hardly needed to be encouraged.
"I don't think we're gonna find this guy." He was looking down at the floor, a scowl crossing his face. "Not tonight, anyway. If he was around, he probably got scared off by Amateur Hour here. So I think I called you in for less than what I'd planned on." His narrow shoulders slumped a little, and he cast a look at the Slayer that was part embarrassed, part apologetic.
"This is not how I thought things would go."
"I'm just glad you called at all," Faith replied, glancing over her shoulder and finding herself unable to shake the vague feeling of ickiness she'd had inside her from the moment they set foot in this part of Chicago. Knowing what went on in Lincoln Park was almost enough to turn the Slayer's normally iron-clad stomach, and she still hated the idea of people living here again.
Why would anyone want to be here?
"You didn't have to."
He smiled, a twitchy thing that was there and gone in the flickering lights of the candles, then tucked the knife into his belt. All was not forgiven, at least not yet, but he was taking steps towards it. That Faith had listened to the things he'd said before they'd set out had helped, part of the process of getting back to where they'd been before.
"You didn't have to come," the Destroyer said. "But I appreciate that you did. Somebody's gonna stop this guy's clock sooner or later. I was just wanting it to be sooner."
He sighed, put out the black candles one by one. The room was left almost dark by the action. "Walk her out of here, make sure she doesn't have a concussion or something. And watch your back until this is over. Don't let anything happen to you."