Isobel Hughes ➤ Rapunzel (sanslumieres) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-02-23 22:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | elizabeth bennet, rapunzel, viola |
Who: Isobel, Eli, and Preston as Rescue
What: Rescue goes out to do some rescuing.
Where: Near OAH2, on the streets, an alley, back to Reliquary.
When: This past weekend, late evening.
Warnings: Eli being an idiot? Is that something we need to be warned for?
Like Isobel, Preston had not found real use for his ability, particularly when he was young. For one thing, both Shiloh and Preston had agreed in college that using their abilities to an excessive degree was dangerous, and given that what they could do would no doubt be advantageous to anyone powerful enough to want to use it for questionable means, that hadn’t changed in the decade following. For another, Preston was a little too honest to want to hide who he was from the world. It would take him as is, or it wouldn’t at all. Over the years, Preston had only made one exception to that particular rule, and to his knowledge absolutely no one was aware that occasionally, Anton Sparke had been in two places at once.
Now this, this was something else. Preston was about to transport another Creation from a dangerous scene (that she herself had probably created by using her ability, in one way or another), and he was doing it under a name he sincerely didn’t want anyone to know about. At this point, however, Preston had allowed Bly a long leash in something of a dangerous experiment--and found that the kid was in earnest; he didn’t care about anything but his toys. Suffering from a serious migraine but reassured by this small mercy, Preston was about to break all his rules and get personally involved in this mess.
By this time, he knew Isobel’s connection with Eli, and he also knew that it was likely Eli was going to find out she was in contact with Rescue, at least once, physically. It was equally likely that Isobel would meet him (Preston) at some point in time, and that meant she couldn’t be permitted to connect the two together. The car was nondescript, and as long as Eli didn’t get a look at the plates, Preston wasn’t too concerned about its description. He knew, however, that he was going to have to conceal himself, and that meant his ability. The one he never used.
The concealment Preston could create with his ability depended on a clear mental image, the mental image of a person that he could fit over himself like a very loose glove, moving as he did and expressing as he did without actually existing tangibly. Preston’s current problem was that he didn’t have very many images (strong, 360º images) in mind currently. One was obviously Anton, whom he knew very, very well. Another was Eli. Another, as useless as the others in this situation, was Shiloh. The only person that everyone would know was not him, and yet not be immediately recognizable likewise, was an image he’d used to practice with, and so it came very readily to mind. The difficulty with James Dean (circa East of Eden, 1955) was that he was a little dead.
He was, however, who was behind the wheel as Isobel pulled the car open, and because he still had Cal Trask’s nondescript suit there was the hope that he wouldn’t be immediately recognizable.
To say that she was eager to get in the car was an understatement considering how quickly she slid into the back seat, all but slamming the door behind her. There was a mumbled “thanks” as she pulled the seatbelt over her shoulder, giving him a wary look as she settled back into the seat. Weren’t most little girls warned about getting into a car with strangers? And wasn’t that what she was doing at that very moment? But she had mentioned that nondescript alias to Eli during their one conversation, and he hadn’t seemed alarmed at his involvement. If anything, he seemed relieved.
“Sorry about all of this,” she said a moment later, pulling on the end of her ponytail as she tried to shrug off the adrenaline rush that still coursed through her. “I didn’t think anyone had noticed. I didn’t think anyone would say anything.” Isobel paused, chewing on her lip for a moment. “I messed up. And... I’m telling you all of this knowing you’re not going to answer.” There was a laugh then, nervous and high pitched. “You said you had a phone for me. For someone to get my purse?”
Dean was naturally squinty, and he looked her over with an intensity that Preston didn’t naturally have; or perhaps he did, but it was better suited to his expression than Dean’s. The car pulled away, and odd silence reigned since he didn’t (couldn’t, rather, without ruining the whole thing) reply. He reached into the drab brown jacket, and pulled something out of the breast pocket that appeared as he stretched it out toward her. It was the phone he used for Rescue, a black, uninteresting smartphone with some of Anton’s hardware hidden away on the inside. It worked just like the real thing, though, and he had Eli’s number, unlabeled, already pulled up. He glanced away, at all the mirrors, checking for pursuit.
It was awkward, riding along with someone who basically amounted to a stranger, no to mention the silence. But she took the phone as he handed it out towards her, and with a definite amount of trust, there was no argument about what she was to be doing. Looking over the phone for a moment, she found the send button and settled back, holding it to her ear and waiting for an answer.
Eli, who was unaware that anything was amiss at all, was at a low-key, local antique auction when his cellphone rang. He was about to bid on an old day planner, something purported to have belonged to someone in political office and with a binding that was still smooth and unmarred. It seemed like something Preston might like, especially after his conversation with Kathy about planning and the like. His paddle had just gone up, and the auctioneer had just called his number as he put the phone to his ear without paying mind to the name on the ID. “EIT.”
At the voice that was familiar, Isobel pulled the phone back to look at it for a moment, then towards the front seat where Rescue sat, and then back again, a frown pulling at her lips. “Uhm. Hi,” she started, uncertainty filling her voice. “Apparently I’m supposed to ask you to... find my purse? I’m with-” She paused, chewing on her lip for a moment before continuing. “Rescue.”
Eli glanced at the phone before responding, looking at the caller ID, which was labeled Rescue. He recognized the voice, of course, no distortion and only Isobel. “Iso? What has happened? Where are you? Where in the bloody hell is your purse? Are you with him? Put him on the phone.”
Shit. She had been hoping, somehow, that Eli wouldn’t recognize her voice, but as the barrage of questions came, Isobel simply listened, waiting for a break so she could get a chance to answer. “Better explained in person. I’m in a car driving away from [OAH2]. My purse is in an alley somewhere off of [street name]. And yes. He’s here.” There was a sigh and she pulled the phone away from her ear, leaning forward to give Rescue a tap on the shoulder with the phone.
“He wants to talk to you,” she said in a flat voice. “I can cover my ears... or something. If you don’t want me to hear.” She didn’t want to jeopardize his identity, but she knew that tone of Eli’s. You just did as asked without arguing.
Dean just shook his head (doing a fine job of not being panicked) and pushed the phone back toward her. He put his hands back on the wheel (ten and two) and squinted intensely out the window. For a man famous for his fool-hardy driving, he was certainly living up to the name.
Isobel gave the back of his head a look before bringing the phone back to her ear with a sigh. “He won’t talk in front of me. So you’ve got me or I can hang up.” For everything that had happened throughout the evening, she was sure being petulant about it all.
Eli wasn’t pleased with that, and it was clear in his voice when he spoke. “Where are you? And where is this purse with all your identifying information that requires retrieving?” he asked, knowing this had something to do with her bloody ability. In the background, he can be heard turning in his paddle and pushing open a door none to gently, the sounds of nighttime filtering through the phone as he gave the valet the ticket for his car.
There was no answer immediately, sighing instead as she slunk further down in the seat. “I don’t know exactly where I am right now. He said he’d drop me off and I was going to grab a cab-” Isobel paused then, glancing towards the front seat as she made an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. Of course she’d need to call someone. She didn’t have money to call a cab or even pay for bus fare. “Or maybe you can pick me up after you grab my purse with yes, all my identifying information. Trust me, I know I messed up. I don’t need you pointing it out to me right now.”
There’s the sound of Eli getting into the car, and the distinct sound of brakes screeching as he pulls out of whatever parking lot he’s in. “Where’s the purse?” he asked tersely. “And you tell that bloody man I will talk to him once you’re situated.”
The sound of screeching brakes had her on edge, and she closed her eyes, trying to keep her calm. It wasn’t her place to get snippy with anyone tonight, not after what had happened. “If you don’t drive safe, I swear to god Eli...” She trailed off, letting out a breath. “It’s in an alley off of [street], about seven blocks down from the hospital. I shoved it in a trash can as I was running past.” A pause and she pulled the phone down away from her mouth to relay Eli’s message.
“He says ‘tell that bloody man he will talk to him once I’m situated.’”
Dean just gave her a sullen look, but then, all James Dean’s looks tended to be sullen. Some people found it attractive.
Going back to Eli, she dropped her tone slightly. “Don’t be pissed at me. Please.”
“I’m not bloody angry, Iso,” Eli assured her, with more brakes and running a light that caused quite a bit of horn honking through the phone. “I’m worried. What happened? I’ve about a five minute drive, so you’re to tell me why you were running from the hospital. Who saw you? And how the hell did bloody Rescue end up picking you up?” He didn’t have to ask what she’d been doing there, not hardly.
For a long while she said nothing, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “I went back to the hospital to see if I could try again. I was there last week and helped this little girl who was all feverish. I thought as long as I kept quiet and didn’t make a scene, then I could try again, y’know?” Isobel paused, shifting to lean slightly against the door, forehead pressed against the cool pane of glass. “Security was apparently told about me and they came after me. Hence, the chase. Rescue told me to call if I ran into trouble so...” She trailed off, ending with a quiet sigh.
Eli was getting close to the hospital, and he figured the best thing to do was park and walk to the alley she mentioned. He was quiet until he put the car in park, reaching for the gun he kept in the glove compartment before opening the door and tucking it into the back of his jeans. He looked around, as he locked the car door. “Did anyone follow you outside?” he asked, wanting to know if he should expect company in the alley. “Did they seem to realize what you were doing?”
Adrenaline was starting to ease off, emotions becoming less dramatic and volatile as the minutes wore on. Isobel shook her head in the negative before remembering that Eli couldn’t see her. “The guards followed. I wouldn’t have run so far if they weren’t, but I made a turn into the alley and they didn’t follow me after that. I didn’t hear them again, not even when Rescue pulled up to give me a ride.” Chewing on her lip, Isobel tugged on her ponytail, anxious.
“I think they did. The nurse that I ran into did. She started bringing it up the second she saw me, Eli.” Isobel grew quiet then, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The mother that I helped... I think she told them what happened.”
Eli, whose footsteps could be heard on the pavement, listened without saying anything until he turned to head into the alley. “You said in the bin?” he asked, already moving toward it. He was, at least, grateful that she’d thrown it outside. If she’d disposed of it inside the hospital the combination of guards and the memories of the building would be overwhelming. Eli hated very public places that had revolving doors, finding the memories there almost impossible to contain. He had just jumped up onto the edge of the bin when he heard footsteps approaching, and he cursed as he dropped into the bin and crouched. “Someone’s coming. If you’re near, tell Rescue to retreat, and tell him not to give me bloody shit about it.”
She closed her eyes as she listened to his footsteps, feeling foolish at all that was going on, at the trouble she had caused. But then there was the curse and she sat up straight, alarmed. “If anything happens to you...” Isobel said, trailing off and directing her attention to the driver of the car. “He’s in the alley and heard someone coming. He said, and I quote, ‘retreat and don’t give him bloody shit about it.’, unquote.” At least she could relay messages well.
James Dean hadn’t ever sat in the driver’s seat of a car like this, and no matter how Preston was driving (which was quite reckless, when it came down to it, but he wanted her somewhere safe and out of his car) he didn’t look quite right squinting out of the windshield and giving Isobel’s conversation dire, sullen looks out of the corner of his eye. The sullen look slightly widened into something like accusation at this particular threat, and abruptly the car slid two feet to the right and, to the blare of horns, onto the side of the road. Dean jerked one hand toward Isobel and then pointed out of his window. Across the street was Reliquary, and he clearly expected her to get out and go into the shop.
There was a yelp of surprise as the car abruptly jerked to the side, and she was ready to shout out some expletive at “James Dean” when he pointed out the window to a familiar building. For a moment, she said nothing, one hand gripping the handle of the door in a white-knuckle grip. She should be thankful, Isobel reminded herself, that he had gone out of his way to help her, even if it was in a strange, silent manner. “Thanks,” she murmured towards him before pulling on the door and pushing it open, lingering for a moment as she sat on the edge of the seat, remembering that the phone in her hand was not, in fact hers.
“He’s dropping me off. At Reliquary, in case you were wondering. And he’ll want his phone back, so do you want me to wait or find my own way back?” Like there was really an option, but she wouldn’t blame her cousin for being a little irate with her at this point.
“Stay where you are. Go inside, and find one of the upstairs rooms and wait there for me with the door closed,” Eli insisted, voice a quiet whisper-hiss of instruction. He was ducked down in the bin now, listening as footsteps neared. “I’ll fetch you home once I’ve gotten out of this bloody mess.”
“The mess you’ve gotten into because of me.” Isobel shook her head, disgusted with herself. And without giving him any affirmation that she would wait for him, she thrust the phone at Rescue, trusting him to grab it, slamming the door in her wake. There was no pause as she skirted behind the vehicle, glancing once to her left and right before running across the street towards Reliquary. She didn’t have the energy to stand up to Eli’s request, so she did as she was told, slipping inside and disappearing from view.
It took Preston about fifteen seconds of scrabbling to find the phone again, because he just wasn’t as damn coordinated as James Dean, and never would be. He turned his head to watch her get all the way inside the building before shifting and barely glanced back to make sure there wouldn’t be a four car collision before pulling out into traffic.
He remembered to turn the voice changer on just in time. “...Eli?”
“You listen to me,” Eli said to the familiar, computerized voice. “I don’t want her involved in this bloody garbage. I tried it, and I’ve decided it’s not worth the risk,” he said, risking a low, quiet hiss despite whatever was coming closer. “I hear the car engine. You turn around, and you keep an eye on her until I can get out of this mess.”
“Who is there? Do you need help?” He wasn’t exactly terrified for Eli’s life, as he could handle a hospital security team that was looking for a small blonde woman. “I’m not going to bother arguing with you about who got her into this.”
In the intervening minutes, Eli found the purse he’d been looking for and swung it over his shoulder, and then with very audible cursing he crouched in the corner of the trash, loosely covering himself with god knows what. When someone peered over the top of the bin, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe and didn’t reply to Rescue. The sound of two men speaking could be clearly heard on the earpiece, but there was no gunfire or escalation of the voices.
Preston was telling himself this is exactly why he didn’t get involved in this kind of thing, why he didn’t show up when people said it would be a good idea to show up, and why it was a lot better if other people did the rescuing. He parked the car down the other side of the block, where he’d picked up Isobel, and it wasn’t James Dean that got out of the driver’s side. “This is really stupid,” he muttered, forgetting the stupid phone was still on, and the mic still in his ear.
Eli couldn’t ask what was really stupid, but he had a sneaking suspicion he would agree, regardless of what it was. At least the car engine in his ear had cut off, and he’d heard the door open and close, and he assumed Rescue had gone back to keep an eye on Isobel, which was clearly something Eli was going to have figure out a full-time solution for.
“HEY!” One of the guards yelled, noticing some movement that Eli hadn’t even realized he’d made, his flashlight shining in Eli’s face.
Eli, for his part, reached out, covered in filth, and asked the man if he could spare five dollars in his best drunken slur.
At that same second, “Isobel” walked around the corner. It wasn’t her, of course, because Preston had just left her back at Reliquary, but he’d also had plenty of time to get a full view of her from every angle. More than enough to make an image that would work from this far away. Preston stopped and looked around for an old can or something to kick on “accident.”
The man had reached into the garbage and grabbed Eli’s shoulder, and Eli had the presence of mind to drop the purse and his gun before letting himself be hauled out. A second later, the sound of something down the alley reached them, and Eli turned to look along with the guards. The man who had hauled him from the garbage let go of him immediate, and Eli knew whatever they’d seen was not good. A second later, he recognized the blond hair, and it was everything he could do not to start yelling right there.
“Isobel” looked up and caught them all staring. Ah, tin can not necessary. Good. So now he just had to make sure they came after him. Oh... they were. Right now. Right. Turning around. Taking a hasty couple steps backward, “Isobel” vanished around the corner, and as the guards came around the corner, James Dean’s back was crossing the street ten yards away. “Now would be a good time to move,” he muttered into the phone.
Eli, who still thought it had actually been Isobel, that Rescue had actually used her as a decoy, did move - but he moved toward the guards, running at them in the hopes of getting there before they got to his cousin.
Preston heard abrupt running footsteps, and he half-turned to look back and stare at the guards in a famous, accusatory profile. “It’s me, you idiot!” he hissed into the phone, expecting Eli to come running around the corner at any second and ruin the entire thing.
Eli felt certain he was not an idiot. He did, however, remember Rescue’s ability when the man hissed in his ear, and he cursed and skidded to a halt just before coming into view. He could hear the guards calling for backup, and he turned around and made quick work of collecting the purse and garbage from the trash. “Well, are you getting me the fuck out of here? Or am I meant to walk past all those guards to my car?” he demanded, adding, “AND I AM NOT A BLOODY IDIOT.”
“Sway your way out of the other side of the alley, on the hospital side, you goddamn idiot!” Preston hissed into the phone again, ignoring the guards with a characteristic James Dean shrug that made one of the frown as if he was trying to remember something. He opened the driver’s side of his car and got in, slamming the door. “And call a cab.”
Eli cursed loudly, and he disconnected the call without swaying anywhere or agreeing to call a cab. He did it a little for spite, and a lot of out of anger and stress. He decided, immediately, as he ignored the advice and swayed back toward his own car like the drunken bastard that he had pretended to be in the trash, that Isobel was not healing a bloody person for as long as she lived, and that Rescue could go choke on his own bile. Yes, indeed.
Back at Reliquary, Isobel had holed up in one of the upstairs rooms, the door closed, but instead of sitting where she could keep out of sight, she was perched in front of the window, forehead pressed against the pane. Her cell phone dangled from her fingertips, keeping a vigil by the window for when [and if] Eli would finally show up. She kept on going over depressing scenarios in her head where something horrible happened and it would be, unfortunately, her fault. Optimism was hard to keep up in these sort of situations.
Sighing, she lifted her head and glanced at her phone, checking the time. Yeah, she was starting to get worried.
By the time Eli pulled up in front of Reliquary he was in a truly foul mood. He was fairly certain there was rotted banana in his hair, and he smelled of something he had no desire to place. He was angry at Rescue for being such a bloody know-it-all, and he was angry at Isobel for not heeding his warnings. The car announced itself with a screech of tires, and he unlocked the door while looking at the still-broken window, which did nothing to improve his mood.
“Isobel!” Eli called, closing the door behind him.
The squeal of tires actually made her flinch, jumping up from the window seat and rushing towards the door. It was there that she paused, hand on the door knob, wondering if it would be more wise to simply pretend that she hadn’t heard him, that she wasn’t there at all. But honesty won out over self-preservation, and she pulled the door open, stepping out into the hall.
“Upstairs. Where you told me to go,” she called out down the stairs, a bit of uncertainty resting in her voice.
Eli was cranky enough to be annoyed at that, too. He climbed the stairs two at a time, reaching the top landing long after the horrible smell of the garbage did. He handed her purse over as he walked past her. “I need to wash up,” he said, “and then we’re going to have a chat.” It was all clenched teeth and deceptive calm as he disappeared into the room Julian normally used, and the slam of the bathroom door was undeniably intentional.
He showered quickly, changing into a pair of his old jeans and a sweatshirt, and he wandered back out looking for her within five minutes, speaking as he walked, knowing she had to be within earshot. “No more public healings, Isobel. None, are we understood?”
Her purse was taken as Eli walked past, staring after him for a moment before she released the breath she didn’t even realise she had been holding. While he cleaned up, she had retreated back to the room she had holed up in earlier, this time sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, knees pulled to her chest. The sound of Eli’s voice drew her from her thoughts moment later, protests on her lips almost immediately. “But if I can help people,” she started, pushing herself up to her feet. “They just need to understand that I’m just trying to help! It’s different. Scary. So they react badly to it. It doesn’t have to be that way though.”
She emerged in the hallway, within sight of him, pressed against the door frame as though using it as a shield. “I could actually do something useful for once.”
“They will put you in a cage and they will study you in a lab,” Eli said, fear and firmness in the sentence. “Do you not see that? We aren’t like them, and we do not belong here. They will not let us take over their world, and you’ll only end up a victim to it. Who says we’re meant to heal them? Who says we’re meant to do anything here?” he asked, the events of the evening making him speak more plainly than normal.
The threat of a cage had a clear effect on her with the way she flinched, gaze seeking out the ground in lieu of meeting Eli’s eyes. “Then what am I supposed to be doing over here? What good was it for my mother to do anything about helping me come over? I’m trapped back home. I’m trapped here. I don’t see the point in it if what you say is true.” Isobel looked up then, meeting his gaze for a moment before she shifted, putting her back against the door frame, arms folded over her chest.
“If I’m more careful... if I know people won’t talk... Wouldn’t it be okay then?”
“You aren’t trapped. Not being able to use these abilities, it isn’t the same as being trapped, Isobel. Very well. You want to help people. I’ll pay for bloody nursing classes. But you’re not to do this any longer. It isn’t safe, and I’ll not have you putting yourself at risk in the future.” Eli reminded himself to have words with Ray once this was all over, because something was clearly amiss in Isobel’s situation if she was tackling all these things alone. It might make him feel better to break the man’s nose, in truth.
She said nothing for a long while, chin tipped towards her chest, another breath released. “I don’t want nursing classes. That’s not what I want at all. I just...” Turning back towards Eli, her expression turned pleading. “At least let me help others like us. Creations. Let me help them if they need help. They’re on our side, right? So I shouldn’t have to worry about working with them...” Her words trailed off and she chewed on her lip for a moment.
“Right?”
Eli looked at her for a long time, quiet and pensive. “Let me speak to Rescue,” he said reluctantly. “If he’s willing to act as go between, very well. If he isn’t, the answer is no Isobel.”
Her lips pursed together tightly and she steadied Eli with a look that was surprisingly firm considering how she had been pleading only moments earlier. “Eli, I would much rather work near you, or near people you trust, than people I don’t know very well. I’m not going to let this ability go to waste, regardless of whether or not Rescue agrees or doesn’t. I’ll find a way. I’ve been in contact with other people. If they want my help, I’ll agree. But I can’t just hide away, even if you don’t like it.”
Eli, who was very much at his wit’s end, raised his voice. “Isobel, you will do as I SAY.” He had the feeling that he was fighting a losing battle with his cousin, but it was one that was too important to simply surrender to. “Speaking to people is a dangerous thing. Don’t you see that? Have you any idea who these people are? Any of them? Any idea who they work for? What their agendas are?” he demanded.
Isobel could feel her stomach roll at his tone, visibly flinching as she dropped her gaze from his, her arms falling to her side loosely. He had a point, a valid one that she had no argument against. “No, I don’t,” she said softly. “I don’t know anything about any of them.” Her voice broke then, head tilting back as she squeezed her eyes shut. The bravado from minutes before had abruptly disappeared, and she took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being stupid, for... not thinking. I’m sorry for all the trouble tonight, for you, for Rescue. I wasn’t thinking and I know I messed up and-” She broke off then, slumping back against the door frame with a heavy breath. The seriousness of what had happened was starting to sink down around her, how bad everything could have been had someone not been available for help.
Eli sighed, and he walked forward and put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you, Iso,” he said, the fear seeping back into the words. “Let me speak to Rescue.”
She didn’t say anything in response, letting herself be pulled in for the hug, standing still for a long moment before returning it, tight and warm. “I know you don’t. I know, Eli. And I can’t express how much it means to me to know that you’re here.” A shaky breath was released and she rested her cheek against his shoulder. “You don’t have to. Talk to Rescue about this, I mean. Maybe it’s better that way.” It was hard to say that, to give in like that, but the trouble... she was worried if i would be worth it.
“You’re tired and stressed, as am I,” Eli admitted, nudging her back after a moment. “Let me drive you home, and we’ll discuss it once we’ve rested,” he suggested. He’d have to call Rescue after he talked to Ray, make sure the hospital records had been handled - he hoped Rescue handled those things, and they had no true group in EIT to handle breaches. He fished the keys from his pocket, and he motioned to the stairs.
Pulling back, she gave a small nod, scrubbing at her eyes with the heel of one hand before turning towards the stairs, purse slung over her shoulder where she wouldn’t loose it. Things had the possibility of being okay, she knew that. Getting to that point was going to take some work though.