Malakai Hardy (hellsmessenger) wrote in tiberiusswann, @ 2011-06-19 21:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | liam, mal, malakai, rorie |
Saturday December 13, 2008
Who: Rorie, Liam and Mal
When: Evening
Where: Outside in the parking lot, then Adult!Garret's apartment
What: Liam comes to pick up his son and Mal walks by
Rorie was nervous. He was not a rule breaker at all, but this was his father. Not some random man that just happened upon him. It was the man that helped create him and his brother and apparently his little sister. So as the time came to get picked up, he bundled up in the clothes Mal had brought him, feet shoved into a pair of boots and wrapped up in a black pea coat and stocking cap on top. It was approaching 5 when he saw head lightly come into the parking lot. He was starting to rethink this. Maybe he could get his father to go get dinner and bring it back here instead of him leaving. Maybe he shouldn't have snuck out while Garret was in the shower, leaving only a note and hoping that he wouldn't be too mad. Too late. The nice, black car pulled to a stop in front of him and an older gentleman in a black coat with a smooth smile. It looked just like Finn's when he was sweet talking girls or anyone to get his way. He was definitely his father. "Hey you," he said, his smooth, baritone voice said. It was like dripping honey. "Ready to go?" Liam asked.
"I. . . I don't know," Rorie said biting his lip, the pale pink was cracked and worn looking from all the wear it was recieving resently. "Maybe-maybe, you should just bring the food back here. So Garret doesn't get mad that I left him," he suggested, hoping it'd work.
"Are you sure? I made reservations and they don't exactly have take to having people not fill them," Liam said, playing the guilt card. It seemed Rorie was a people pleasure when he was younger and scared of making people mad. He could use that easily. "I mean, I'd have to still pay for the seats whether or not we go. Might as well go so we can at least have a nice dinner before bringing some back."
Oh, Mal was going to be so mad and so was Garret, but he didn't want to waste money like that. Especially his father's. Shifting his feet, he looked back at the buildings and back at the car. "Come on, it won't take that long," Liam pushed gently. "We'll be back before anyone notices." The older man could see the fight going on inside Rorie before the boy finally nodded and stepped forward, opening the door.
Mal had stopped by the cafeteria to pick up some food for the teens living in Garret's apartment. It wasn't great food, but it'd be something for them to heat up quickly and eat when Mal wasn't around to cook. Tossed in the bag with the make-shift meals were some choice cuts and fresh vegetables that he was planning on making into dinner for the three of them. They may be teens, but they were still his boyfriends. This whole responsibility thing felt so weird at times.
Glancing up as he walked across the lawn, he noticed the car pulling up to a kid. Strange, he looked familiar. Mal slowed his pace to watch. When Liam got out, Mal started walking over, not liking the way this was going. He liked it even less when he recognized Rorie. Dropping the bag of groceries, Mal sprinted over to the car, slapping his hand on the door to close it before Rorie could get it, leveling his glare on Liam. "What do you think you're doing?"
Rorie had the door half way open when suddenly there was a large hand slamming it shut and out of his grasp. Looking over, he stumbled back when he saw Mal. "I-I-I-" he couldn't even get the words as he stood there, not liking the way the two men were looking at each other. It was if they were trying to kill each other with mind powers or would with eye laser beams.
"I'm picking up my son for dinner. Last I checked, that wasn't a crime. Especially since he was going willingly," Liam said in and even tone, not making it into a fight, yet at least. "So if you'll kindly remove yourself from my car, we'll be on our way and back in while," he said.
Mal slowly shook his head, keeping his gaze locked on the man before him. His eyes weren't red, not yet and that was lucky for Liam because it meant he was still in control. "Rorie doesn't remember you or remember the way you work. I do." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. "Rorie," he asked calmly over his shoulder. "Do you want to call Finn and ask his opinion about this man?"
"Is not my father?" Rorie asked, worried that this had been a rouse. A set up to get him. He started to eye Liam, stepping back a bit.
"No, I am your father Rorie, I wasn't lying to you," Liam said pulling away his gaze from Mal to the teen.
"Yes, I wanna talk to him," Rorie nodded before the phone was dialed and Finn was on the line. Handed the phone, he took it. "Finn? Is Liam O'Kelly our father?" He asked, keeping his eyes on both men.
"Yes," Finn said a bit confused. "Is he there?"
"Uh-huh."
"Rorie, whatever you do, do NOT listen to him. He's manipulative and coniving. You need to stay away from him, stay with Mal and do NOT go anywhere with him," Finn said, his voice was steeled, but Rorie could hear the urgency behind it.
"Okay, I will," he said before he hung up. "Finn said not to go with you," he said looking up at Liam as he handed Mal the phone.
"Do you think you should be listening to Finn right now? After everything he's put you through?" Liam said, pulling out the stops. If he could get a wedge between Mal and Rorie, then maybe he could get Rorie.
"What?" He said confused looking at Mal. "What's he talking about?" What was going on?
"He didn't tell you?" Liam said, feining shock and anger. "Why don't you tell him Mal? Tell him why he should trust his brother that's locked up instead of his father that's looking out for him?"
"Mal?"
"Cute, trying to turn him on me." Mal glanced over his shoulder at Rorie though he kept his body between him and Liam. He just didn't trust the man. "Your brother tried to commit suicide among other things. I'll tell you the rest in the apartment." Seeing something move out of the corner of his eye, Mal smiled, perfect timing. Givng a shrill whistle, he called to Pete, watching the massive dog dash over to Rorie's side. "Rorie, this is Pete. He's yours."
What? Rorie felt the blood drain from his already pale face when he heard Finn tried to commit suicide. So many thoughts ran through his head as he barely heard the shrill whistle. Why? Why had he done it? Was it something Rorie had done? Was it their parents that never seemed to have time unless they were at the shop with their father? Finn knew his soul was damned if he killed himself. What was so horrible here that it would be better in hell? Whimpering softly as he covered his ears as he heard more talking, not realizing it was directed at him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he held his breath and counted to ten so he could calm himself. It was a strange method and often got him looks, but he didn't care.
That is till the large dog came bounding over to him. Jumping slightly, skiddish at the sudden appearance of the pooch, he blinked as the dog barked happily, running around him in circles. "Pete?" He said as the dog stopped and stood in front of him panting.
"Rorie," Liam said, calling him in that honey dipped voice. "Come on, let's go."
"No! Just-just shut up!" He yelled, mostly at Liam, but at Mal too. He didn't like this tug of war and the new information wasn't a great hit. The yelling made Pete whine before he went stiff as Liam moved a bit closer. Teeth bared, the great dane snapped to attention and started to growl and bark viciously, keeping himself in front of Rorie. It started out small, no one noticing at first apparently, as small bits of gravel started to float and then cars started to creak and groan. Rorie was losing control fast, but he wasn't lifting anything heavy, yet. Just slowly taking gravity from a few cars, including Liam's, around them.
Mal noticed the gravel, the scraping of rock against itself, the subtle shifting of the tires. "Shit," he mumbled. Turning back to Liam, he growled, eyes glowing. "Get the fuck off this property before I escort you off." The look on his face dared Liam to test him. Mal wanted to rip into something, and a mobster's throat seemed like a good target at the moment.
Too much, there was too much and Rorie wasn't used to being this upset. It'd only happen once or twice and this was the bigger of the times. More creaking and groaning, but nothing floating horribly yet. Liam gave Mal a death glare, before using his own powers to counter act Rorie's. Getting in his car, he pulled out and away. Left alone with the hellhound and great dane, Rorie covered his ears mumbling to himself, tears threatening to fall as he rocked on his feet.
Mal watched Liam peel off, not breaking his stare until the driver was past the gate. Finally, he turned around, crouching down in front of Rorie, putting himself below the younger man. In hound language, he was humbling himself, but he doubted Rorie would notice. Still, it was worth a shot. "Deep breaths," he stated calmly. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I've no reason to lie."
Rorie was half listening, mumbling a lullaby that his Gran used to sing to him when he was home sick in Ireland. It had always clamed him before, so why wouldn't it now? It did slightly, it kept the cars down at least. A familiar throbbing pain was starting to ebb into his mind though. "Ow," he whimpered as he clutched at his head, his breath coming out in large, white puffs from the cold. A solid, thick red line started to run down his nose and over his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the tears. "Hurts!" He cried out, choking back a sob. This had only happened once, when he was little and their dog at his Nonno's and Nonna's had died and he was really attached to it. He cried so hard and made himself sick with his powers. Pete stood by, whining in concern as he watched his master and Mal. Finally, it was like a joint popping. As suddenly as it started, it stopped. The cars jiggled with the suddenly release as well as gravel raining down as Rorie, swayed. His head throbbing and feeling like he was about to be torn in two while his nose bled profusely.
Mal saw the blood starting to run and gasped, jumping to his feet, arms coming around to hug Rorie, to help center him. "Breathe, baby. Breathe." Gently, he rubbed Rorie's back. Where was that amulet he'd been given from the hospital? Shouldn't he still be wearing it for it to help? A quick search of visible skin didn't reveal it and Mal cursed softly. "C'mon. Let's get you inside to clean up."
Leaning against Mal, barely taller than the older man, Rorie was at the point where he didn't feel anything except his splitting headache. Breathing, thankfully no inhaler was needed, he felt his knees buckle as he tried to hold onto Mal as best he could. If only he and Garret were adults. Both of them knew how to handle this. Their relationship pretty much starting with this, not that Rorie knew that now. His temprature was already starting to get higher as his face started to flush and the blood on his face was messed between him and Mal's shoulder. He barely gave the hellhound an answer other than a pitiful groan while Pete stood by, not wanting to leave.
Mal caught Rorie's weight easily as he collapsed, scooping him up into his arms. "Heel, Pete," he commanded softly, already knowing the dog would follow. He didn't worry about the blood now covering his shirt and chest. It would come out one way or another. Quickly he started to walk to the apartment, not even sparing a glance for the bag of groceries spilled on the sidewalk. Food could be gotten again. There was no duplicate for Rorie.
Once in front of the door, Mal twisted the handle, letting them in and striding straight back to the bathroom to care for a bloody nose and a panicked young boy.
By the time they had gotten back to the apartment, Rorie was limp and out of it. His nose had stopped bleeding thankfully. Sweat gleamed on his face and exposed neck. The amulet he was supposed to be wearing was on the counter, left there so he could take a shower and forgotten since he had no idea what it was for. Pete, being the good dog despite Adult!Garret's protests, followed along. Whining and whimpering as Rorie wasn't making much movement and his nose told him his master was bleeding. That was not good. Trotting into the house, he stayed back a bit letting the human hound take care of Rorie, he went about finding his smells and staying out of the way.
Mal murmured at Pete, softly to get his attention while wetting a cloth for Rorie. He told his canine brethren to find the amulet and bring it back. Rorie needed to wear it to stay safe. Once Pete was off on his task, Mal turned back to Rorie, gently wiping his face clean. "What do you need?" The last time Rorie had been like this, Mal had taken him to the hospital.
Rorie was out of it, but he was able to concentrate on Mal's voice. "Rest," he said softly. His body was burning up and his head was killing him. Last time this had happened, this type of power surge, was when Mal had met Rorie for the first time. Rorie was 17 again, that meant his growing power hadn't started to grow yet. Stocking cap, pulling off, his honey brown hair sticking out every which way and sticking to his head with sweat.
"Do you want a bath?" Mal could smell just how sweaty Rorie was and set about stripping off the shirt that was sticking to him. It was bloody and sweaty, so there was no point in wearing it. Making sure Rorie was braced, Mal knelt down and started taking off the shoes. "If you want a quick shower I'll help you, then we'll get you into bed. Alright?"
"No," Rorie said shaking his slightly. Last time he'd just stripped to his boxers and passed out for a few days. Like a bad flu. He just wanted to curl up for a long, dark, quiet sleep. His usually pale skin was flushed and sweaty as his head ached while his face was smeared with his blood. Maybe if he got that cleaned up it'd be okay. Other than that though, he didn't want to do anything else than pass out.
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"Alright. We'll get you cleaned up and into bed." Pete came back at that moment, the necklance in his mouth. Mal murmured a thanks to the dog, taking the amulet and resting it on his lap before going back to gently scrub Rorie's face.
Staying as still as possible, Rorie let his face be scrubbed like Mal was his mother, wondering where Garret was. Probably either in the bedroom or in the living room confused. For now though, it was probably for the best considering everything.
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Mal was as gentle, but as thorough as he could be getting Rorie clean. Sniffing, he told him, "Smells like Garret's in the living room. You'll have a clean break to the bed for a nap. Want me to wake you for dinner?" Mal had every intention of leaving Pete to guard the two while he ran upstairs to his apartment for groceries.
"Okay," Rorie said. Though he probably wouldn't wake up for dinner though. He'd be lucky if he woke up in the morning. He wasn't going to fight with the hellhound, just let him do his thing. Right then he couldn't fight a fly if he wanted to even.
Tossing the rag into the sink, Mal picked up the amulet, draping it over Rorie's head. "Promise me you won't take this off. You got this not long ago to help you control power surges. It should keep this from happening." He cupped Rorie's cheeks in warm palms, making the boy looked at him. Behind a calm expression, worried eyes darted over his face, trying to assess damage. Sighing, he kissed Rorie's forehead and helped him to his feet. "C'mon. Into bed."
Looking up with half lidded eyes that had a slight glazed over expression, Rorie looked back at Mal. He was just like a sick pup, no fight in him. The warm palms didn't help much with his temprature, already at 101 degrees. He felt miserable with a splitting head ache and sweaty, splotchy skin. "Kay," he said pathetically as he slowly stood on shaking legs and leaned against Mal heavily to make it to the bedroom, not caring to analyze the head kiss or care at the moment.
Mal leaned down, swooping Rorie into his arms to carry him to the bedroom. The bed wasn't made, but Mal didn't fuss over that. Instead he laid Rorie down on the sheets, tugging one of them over him along with a light blanket. "I know you're hot babe, but we need to get your fever down." Mal wasn't used to having to deal with illness and the concept was foreign to him. He'd call Wesley to come, but it seemed the healer had been affected as well. "Do you want me to get a healer?" Mandy was decent he knew, but Starbuck was available as well hopefully. Either one at this point would work.
The blanket and sheet weren't as welcome, but Mal made him keep them up. Whimpering slightly at the heat and his head, Rorie curled up on himself, miserable. "No," he said, his voice small and squeaky. "Won't work." There was nothing really wrong with him. There was no infection to heal, just his body kicking itself to restart. It would take a day or two, but he'd be okay.
Mal nodded, though Rorie couldn't see with his eyes closed. "Alright. I'll be here if you need me." He doubted Rorie would call for him, but the offer was out there. Rising from the bed, Mal left the room leaving the door cracked behind him. A quick order to Pete told the hound to guard the other two and Mal left to go find the makings for dinner.