Adam Morgenstern is Professor Moriarty (napoleonic_star) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-02-20 19:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | moriarty, sam winchester, sherlock holmes, watson |
Who: Daryl, Kyle, Sam and Adam
What: Hospital fun times.
Where: Starting out side Hamartia and moving to Virginia Mason Hospital ER
When: Saturday (2/19) afternoon
Warnings: Some vague mentions of needles, people caring about toasters.
Adam had her. She was in his arms as he barreled down the steps, the hell with that Sara girl and Tim and the sociopathic asshole who had done all this. If they all ended up dead, he didn’t care, because he had Daryl, and that was all that mattered. The stairs didn’t even bother him as he rushed down, his feet clanging against the metal grating. He wasn’t looking at the stairs, or what lay beyond his own feet. His gaze was fixed on Daryl’s face, more pallid than usual. The dark smudges under her eyes were more pronounced, and for a minute, Adam had to fight the urge to pull the Glock out of its holster at his side, storm back up to that apartment, and put a bullet in that fucker’s brain.
The urge was base and primal, and the more rational part of him overrode it. Bite marks peppered her arms, her clothes were torn. She was breathing, but the breaths were shallow and labored. Sometimes, she moved, but only a little, and doing so was obviously a chore. When he had initially grabbed her, she had muttered something barely comprehensible. He hadn’t paid much attention; anything she had to say could wait, and he’d shrugged out of the Kevlar vest and put it on her instead. She had probably been bitching about that.
Kicking open the front door, Adam stepped into the bright light of the day, wincing a little as his eyes adjusted. He stayed still long enough for a voice in his ear to assure him he was free to move without getting shot at. He jogged toward where Kyle and Orin were waiting, giving Orin a tight smile of relief. “Virginia Mason has the closest ER,” he said, directing the words more toward Kyle than Orin but he was definitely speaking to both.
His gaze shifted to Orin’s face. “If you’re not busy, meet us there?” he asked. “I don’t... they probably won’t let you back, but I want someone.” He broke off, taking a ragged breath. The adrenaline coursing though him made it difficult to think and talk. He wanted to move, to act, not to sit around discussing things. His gaze swung back to Kyle. “This car is yours?” He didn’t even wait for a confirmation, just shifted Daryl so he could open the door, and then he dropped inside, impatiently waiting for someone to flip on the sirens and go.