Re: Hospital: Sam & Loren & Cris (pt 2)
Loren was lax muscle like a man rising out of dreams, nothing like a man who had yet to truly find sleep. He went down easily, not even a milliliter of resistance to be found in his body. Subdued, right. But hey, Loren played nice, with enough knowledge to turn his face to the side so that he didn't crack his chin on the tiled floor when the man swept him down easily. Boneless body, easy. Yarn doll, easy. Loren thought about the chair that he'd been hauled out of. He thought about the string on the blinds, he thought about pair of knives at his ankles, and he even thought about the angry man's scarf becoming a noose. The hidden gun that he'd stashed in the bed wasn't even an option, too much noise. Guns were final resorts these days. There were a lot of ways to kill sometone, but if the Hand had taught Loren anything, it was that showing those kinds of cards were best saved for when it would be the most effective.
When Sam began to explain that Loren knew Micah, Loren closed his eyes and exhaled. He really hoped she didn't go into all of the ways that he knew that man. Torture and murder, even if followed by resuscitation, seemed like a bad thing to admit to the police. Then again, what jurisdiction did this cop have in this door? Not enough for Loren to worry about it, even if he did give Sam a single sharp look, a wordless warning that he didn't trust the guy on his back. Loren didn't exactly have a reason to. But Loren wasn't resisting, he stayed flat and compliant, maybe annoyingly compliant for a man who(now that Cris was up close) was obviously made of more lean muscle than the average citizen. There was a deep, long scar that dug a good five inches across the back of his skull, visible through his extremely short hair. Sam and him had a little something in common there.
The man's knee dug into Loren's back, and even if his teeth grit, there was not a sound of protest from him.] Did you skip your police brutality training? [Loren's voice was something to lighten the mood that Mr. Angry had brought to the room. Besides, Sam was scrambling out of bed now and tangling her tubes with her sheets. From where Loren was stomach-down on the floor, Loren gave her those blue eyes that didn't know how to be anything but cold. His smile was a reassurance, though. He wouldn't kill her friend with the anger and the Spanish and the knee in his back like a blunt spear. Promise.]