Savannah W ~’s
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(group member since Jan 21, 2017)
Savannah W ~’s
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from the The Beginning of the End (Zombie RP) group.
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@dreamchild, I'll message you once im on my computer again. Def gonna def go for that romance for both those characters. But yes, discuss we shall via pm!
@Dreamchild Awesome! I'm super excited XD. Mkay, so I'm sorta likin' Claudia. Did you have any ideas for some sorta collab for her that you're wantin' to do? If you want, we can PM some ideas up for both collabs!
@Dreamchild, I'd love to do a collab or two with you! Maybe with your andre hamann face claim and maybe...well, all your girls look amazing character wise. Which one would you prefer to get some sorta collab going for most?
Oh, was that so? They thought she knew what they’d killed her family for? No, they knew that Mackenzie had already figured that little fact out. They knew damn well that she knew it all routed back to that small, cardboard box that’d arrived at her mother’s lab marked with the words Fragile on the outside, and on the inside there was a metal container with a single glass tube encased with padding. It’d ruined everything, that one vial of clear liquid. Preliminary findings had the women saying it was a virus, but not one either had gotten a glimpse at before. Before her mother could bounce some ideas off Enzi, Mackenzie had headed back to base to visit her father. The girl had left her mother to figure out the truth alone. It was, in fact, a virus, one that had been carefully engineered by man. It was highly contagious and dangerous enough that anyone who’d seen it, heard of it, or came into contact with it was not only killed but burned, ensuring no trace of the virus was left.
All that, Enzi had known for a while now; it wasn’t the why Enzi was after anymore. It was something else all together. Enzi had went from wanting to know the why, to wanting to know the ‘who’, to wanting to get retribution, and finally to the point she has reached. The young woman didn’t want revenge—well, not just revenge. She wanted more...more than most could ever accomplish. But she was a very determined girl, and she believed firmly that there was no such thing as impossible. Already, Enzi had made great strides in her quest, which was probably why Access had enlisted William in the first place. They wanted to bury her before she could do anymore damage with the things she’d gathered so far. They were getting desperate, and the desperate were always the most deadly...and usually the easiest to slip-up. It was possibly they had made a slip up in recruiting Will.
When he asked her what her intentions were, it became clear to Enzi they had left some details out when they’d briefed Will. He wasn’t their primary man, not the one they were leaning fully on. So there was another shadow worker heading her search. They didn’t trust Will. Knowing that simple fact made Enzi willing to put a bit of trust in Will. If Access doubted him, they had reason to. “Think so little of me that you only think I’m after revenge?” A small, coy smile tugged at the edge of her lip but vanished quick as she shook her head. “I won’t lie, I started out wanting nothing but revenge and answers.” Her gaze went back to his again. “But now...” She took in a deep breath and again looked from him, focusing on her bare feet. She’d need to go back to the place she was staying and get all her gear…
“I want to make sure this never happens again.” Another smile began to pull at her lips, a light laugh escaping her; having her true objection left unsaid made it seem so much more plausible, but as she readied herself to tell Will, she couldn’t help but realize how unreal it seemed. Her eyes went to him, smile still in place, “I want to bring them to their knees and burn them from existence as they have so many. I want to get rid of Access.”
It wasn’t about revenge. It was about so much more than that. This seemingly impossible task, it was her life, and she would either live a success or die trying.
((coming from the Hospital))In honesty, Atty hadn’t considered what it may feel like to Emma when he’d told her she could call him by his name, and just his name, but upon her giving him the same permission, the man started to wonder if it felt the same to her. It felt...different. It was usually never a big deal—names were what people were supposed to go by. But the relationship between the doctor and the officer had always been restricted, limited specifically to their professions. From the moment he’d pulled her to a shot out when he’d realized she was a doctor and could help the fallen to the moment she took him into surgery and removed the bullets that’d buried in his body that very same day; it was always professional, always restricted...always kept in a safety net that there would never be a thing more between the two.
But now? Now he was to refer to the doctor as Emma; now he was to interact with her as a person rather than as a nameless professional. It was...unsettling, but not exactly in a bad way—or maybe it was. Fuck if he knew; it was stupid to even feel anything by being told to call someone by their name. Stupid, yet here he was with an unnerving feeling fluttering in his stomach. The man was a bit too dumb to recognize the feeling as the classic and terrible feeling of butterflies.
Shake it off. You have a job to do. The most common statement to flow through Attican’s head, the command to ignore everything but his job to protect and defend. On the plus side, the doctor--Emma had given a modifier to him using her name. It was limited to outside the walls of the hospital. Good. Because, well, beyond their first interaction in the field and their current situation, the two never saw one another outside of the hospital. Things wouldn’t change. She was, probably, just telling him to call her Emma because he’d told her she could call him by his name. It was a curtsey, nothing more. Good, very good. Nothing to feel weird about.
He’d offered her a small smile when she’d thanked him for taking his time to take her home, again suggesting that she was taking him away from his job. First off, he was technically off the clock, and depending on if the doctor provided his captain with an update on how little care Atty was taking of himself, he may be off for quite some time. Besides the point. Emma had also forgotten that, even if he were on the clock, this would be his job—escorting her home and watching over her, that was his job—his duty. He was to protect her. It was amazing to him how, the majority of the time, the citizens he was assigned to watch over thought that they were taking up the time of an officer, like protecting them was not as important as the other things they could be doing. People need to understand that an officer’s job is to be there for them, all of them. Each one of them is as important as the next, the same going for Emma.
Though at the moment, the only one that Atty was concerned for was, in fact, the doctor. He had never been good at multitasking. He was an all or nothing sort of man, so Miss Tullen was where all his chips laid; she had become his primary focus, his only focus.
Once the elevator doors opened and the two stepped in, a quiet settled between them. He came to notice there was no music; was there generally in this elevator? There was, right? His brows furrowed slightly, eyes going to the top corner of the elevator where was the black semicircle, the camera. Typically, a little red light was shining to tell that the thing was on and active, but just like the music, the red light was off. The cameras had been tampered with. With each new piece of evidence that came forth, Atty came closer and closer to making the absolute decision that the guy who’d attacked Emma was skilled beyond an average criminal. Government trained. The way the guy handled the bullet in his leg without a single grimace, the way he’d put Emma down without actually injuring her, the way he’d managed to get him and the girl in and out without anyone noticing—now the possibility that he’d came back and took care of any footage that’d been taken of him and the girl? It stunk of professionalism on some sort of level. On the plus side, they had blood samples of both of them, and if either worked for the government, Atty and the others on the force would know within the next few hours.
There was only one comfort in all of that; the fact if the man had wanted to kill the doctor...he would have. She was alive because he’d allowed it. Maybe he wasn’t a cold blooded killer; the two were just a couple stuck in a bad situation that required some drastic measures. On the run, perhaps? From who, then? Or maybe they were undercover, and they had too keep that way? Or maybe they were bad people—but if they were all the way bad, Emma would be dead. The ding of the elevator pulled Atty’s gaze from the dead camera to the garage that the elevator opened up to. It was poor planning on the contractor’s part, considering it made it extremely easy for people to get directly in and out of the hospital. Nevertheless…
”Atty.” It was a whisper, nearly the softest he’d ever heard his name said. His gaze went to Emma, features softening on their own. That same weird fluttering in his stomach seemed to have traveled to his heart, the thing seeming to be thrown off pace for a second or two. What was that? Emma’s eyes were wide, almost like she was shocked. Had she seen something? Someone? The defensive side kicked in, readying Atty to protect, but Emma continued her words "Ahh, is your car to the left or to the right."
His newly tensed muscles relaxed slightly. She hadn’t seen anything; it was just her wanting to know which way they needed to walk. Well, after getting Jackson to the hospital, during some of the down time while waiting for the boy to recover, Atty had moved it from the emergency bay parking to the garage. It should be to the… “Right,” he told her, nodding his head in the direction they needed to go.
The two started to walk, though Atty had drawn near immediately distant. The worst part about big car garages, people could be hiding any fuckin’ where. Seriously, a bitch could be in the car right beside you, reading to turn it on and run you down, or someone could be lurking under your car, prepared to slice your ankles when you get to the door. It was one of the worst places to have to worry with security, and considering Atty already knew for a fact that the hospital security lacked seriously, he had all that much more to worry with. He reminded himself that if the guy who’d hurt Emma wanted her dead, she probably would have been already. She’d played her role in this all, most likely. But...what if he was wrong? What if the guy had meant to kill Emma and misjudged how long he’d held her throat? Easily could be the case...no matter what Atty’s gut was telling him.
“Ah...” realization started to ping at Atty as they neared the police car that was designated to him, “I almost forgot...the car’s a little dirty.” By a little, he actually meant the back seat was soaked in Jackon’s blood, and the driver’s side looked like it had been painted with the stuff from where Atty had touched and sat. “The passenger seat should be okay, though.” He walked to the other side of the car and opened the door for her. “Just don’t tell anyone I let you ride up front.” He offered a rather sincere smile as he waited for her to get in.
Welcome back, @Elle XD.
((Conversation always makes my posts so sadly short… You can take them to the parkinglot and to his car, then we can do a post or two in the car, then start up at her house? We can do the car posts in her house thread, though.))
It showed when she spoke; she was still in shock, operating on autopilot. Umms, uhs, and stumbling over words, all signs of the brain trying kicking on in short bursts when autopilot didn’t have a fully worked out reaction for a situation and interaction. The odds of the guy coming back to the hospital to get rid of eye witnesses, it was a low chance, or o the officer believed. There would be too many eyes in the building for the next several hours. No, if he had made it back to the hospital to clean up house, he’d be waiting outside to catch up with the witnesses as they veered away from prying eyes.
As soon as the Doctor were to leave the hospital, that’s when her life would be at rise once more. She needed someone to keep an eye out for her, and it was already decided in his mind that that someone would be him. She’d been dedicated to trying to make sure he stay well, it was only fair that he do the same for her. She was a good person, and Attican would protect her. She deserved safety.
“Of course,” he said to her asking if he’d give her a ride home. He began to walk the hall once more, gently placing his hand on the small of her back as she turned to walk with him to help get her into motion. He let his hand fall back to his side once she was in stride with him. “And you don’t have to tack only any tags to my name. Just Attican, or Atty, Doctor Tullen. You have, after all, seen me without half my clothes on. You’ve earned the right to a first name basis.” Light hearted, idle conversation was one of the best ways to distract someone, to help them settle down. That was his current goal as the two made their way through the hospital. Though his mind was far from settled; each sense of his was on high alert, keeping attention to every detail. If there was anything that stood out, he’d see it. But from the looks of it, he was right. The hospital itself was a safe zone. The parking lot would be the primary spot to keep an eye out.
Biting back her instinctive reaction to pull her arm from Will before he got a chance to stick her with the IV needle, she let him go forward with his attempts to aid her...assuming all that was in that bag was, in fact, fluids. Shake off paranoia. Have to be willing to trust him...this is where it starts. In truth, this was a terrible first place to start, letting him pump a liquid into her that she didn’t know for a fact what it was, but all the same, this was their starting point, and she had to take a leap of pure faith—God, how she hated it. Faith was something she’d stopped putting in people long ago.
Suck it up.
She was motionless, watching the needle as it went through her skin, the prick of pain barely going noticed. Her sights moved from her arm as she settled it closer to her, watching Will as he ventured across the room to his bag of goodies. What all did he have in there? Another question she wished she had an answer to. It’d be easy enough for him to pull anything out of that thing from a gun to--If he wanted to hurt you, he would have already. He could have you bounded and gagged right now. But he doesn’t. It was harder than she remembered, believing someone wasn’t out for her blood or worse. At one point, Will was someone she’d have easily put her life in the hands of. He doesn’t want to hurt you. If she kept telling herself that, maybe it would become true...or at the least, maybe she’d believe it.
Keeping quiet, Enzi waited for the man to give her an answer. He was taking his time, that was for sure, more concerned with arbitrary health precautions and digging through his bag. He was giving himself time to form an answer, she was sure of it. If he spat out a response as soon as she’d asked, odds would have been he’d rehearsed it, planned out the exact thing to say to her to make her trust him. Taking time to come up with an answer, it suggested he was doing this for the first time...that it’d be sincere. People living in a similar line of work that they had, they didn’t go into a situation unprepared, after all. This wasn’t part of his plans—of his ‘mission’ he’d been put on.
Then he spoke. “I want you to be out of harms way from the agency who is after you; they go by the name of Access. Their entire goal is all in the name, they obtain, examine and retrieve everything that is ordered of them."
Cute. He wanted to save her. What a hero, a white knight in his shiny armor riding up on a steed to rescue the damsel from the big, bad men. Did people ever just want to help anyone anymore? Enzi had learned very quick that the majority of people had an underlining goal, a self interest they were focused on. Genuine, good hearted people out to save someone else as their primary goal, it was...an idea at best. A fairytale, a pure piece of fiction lost to this day and age. So...what was Will’s?
He’d gotten hold of a towel, starting to dry off the rain water in his hair as he went on to say, "You, as you very well know, are what they wish to obtain." That was...true—well, basically. They wanted what Enzi knew, wanted to keep her from digging any deeper, and wanted to keep her from causing any more problems. They wanted to gather everything she was made of mentally, then erase all the physical. Data collection and hardware termination.
With a slight shake of her head, Enzi looked to her feet. “Do you know why they want me?” she asked, deciding it was time to figure out exactly what he knew. How much did they relay to him? Was he in their outer loop? Just a lacky they planned to knock off as soon as his use was exhausted? Or was he worth more than that to them? Had they started to lean on him for bigger things? Her gaze went back to him, “Know what I have that they want?”
Did she just smile? Fake, completely so. It was a front, something Atty was used to putting up himself. Smile for the crowd, walk it off, and wait till you’re alone to let things finally settle in and start to worm at your soul. That’s what the doctor was setting herself up to do; she was going to head home where she could face the truth of what’d happened to her this night alone, face it all by herself so no one could see her break.
One thing she wasn’t even considering was the fact that being alone right after something like this happened was not an option, not a safe one at least. If whoever the guy who attacked her decided to come back to finish off the face who’d seen him closest, then she’d be completely at his mercy. Not only was she in danger by being alone, but she was also risking a whole horde of emotional wreckage coming down on her with no shoulder to lean on.
Maybe he wasn’t close enough to the doctor to offer the latter, but Atty’d be damned if he didn’t ensure she was safe. Looking to the other officer, Atty said, “Keep me updated on this one.” When the officer gave a nod, Attican walked around him and followed the doctor out of the room. She was walking just fine, probably still in shock...or maybe she was fine? Some people could just shake stuff off. Maybe she was one of the lucky ones with that ability.
“Doctor Tullen,” he called out to her, waiting for her to stop and turn back to look at him. “We don’t know anything about the guy who attacked you...so...I’m not sure you’ll be safe at home alone.”
((short, but screw it. I got a reply in!))
Surgery? Ah, well yes...that would explain the white walls, ceilings, and gathering of people who’d been pushing her along she’d seen during her in and out phase. She’d been in a hospital. But that didn’t make sense. There’d been a guy shooting her, one of their men. How’d she get from an alley, being gunned down by that guy, to a hospital with Will? Where’d the guy go because it’s not like he’d just let Will take her to get fixed up nice and pretty again. No, he’d have taken her straight to some bunker or location to wait to hear his next orders.
The only way Will would have gotten her to a hospital would be to go through her attacker, in the literal sense. The girl’s shoulders fell a bit, staying still on the bed long enough that Will moved his hand from her and went back to playing with some fluid bags at the head of the bed. Had he? Had he went through her attacker? Had Will actually killed the guy?
Even if he had, it could very well be a play, another move, in order to gain her trust. Maybe it was done just so she would start to think he was on her side, so she would answer questions, open up, and lean on him more. Maybe that’s what they wanted, what they told Will to do, knowing very well she would never speak a word to them if they caught her; even through hell or high water, she’d keep that mouth of hers shut tight. But if someone she trusted asked her questions...she’d be bound to answer eventually, right? And considering the shots taken on her were both clean, straight through wounds, it seemed like they really wanted her alive. No other reason to keep her alive if not to question.
It was a great plan, a fantastic one, even, which is why she couldn’t help but believe it was a high possibility. The only factor that made her unsure was Will. He was the only variable that Enzi could not properly factor in. He was a wild card. Either he had turned on her, and he was a part of their plan, or he was, in fact, on her side and strayed from the order’s command to help her, killing one of their guys in the process. Or maybe it was some sort of mixture of the two. The fuck if she knew. And that’s probably exactly what they wanted, for her to be confused.
A variable this unknown, unpredictable, and this close to her, it was unnerving. It was dangerous. Therefore, Will was dangerous. Get rid of the variable, make the equation simple again. It would be easier that way—in fact, it was probably the best thing to do. But...but what if he was on her side? What if she got rid of the only person left that she’d considered family? What if...what if he wasn’t her family anymore, though?
Was this really the time to take risks, to take chances? It was annoying, trying to pin down what she needed to do, trying to decide what move was best. What would Dad do? a voice inside asked, managing to silence all the ‘what ifs’ and questions besides that one.
What would he do?
”The only ones capable of hurting us are those we love, but just the same, the ones we love are the only ones worth living for, worth fighting for, worth dying for.” That’s what he would have said—or had he actually said that before? The voice in her head sounded so much like him, stringing the sentence together perfectly, that maybe he had told her that once upon a time. It hurt that Enzi couldn’t recall if it was a real statement or one she just knew he’d say. Forgetting the small things always hurt. ”So he could hurt you, sweetheart, or he could be here for you. But regardless, he is family. We have to trust family.
Her eyes stated on Will, vaguely hearing him explain that their tracks were covered and they were safe for the time being. She offered no response, remaining quiet, her mind still contemplating if he was trustworthy—no, contemplating if he was still family. If he was, she’d have no choice but to trust him; Daddy’s instructions and all.
For a moment her nose crinkled a bit, the edge of her lips dipping into a scowl, when he asked how she was feeling and that she’d need her fluids to get back on her feet faster. She shook her head and looked around the room as she reminded, “This isn’t my first rodeo. Been shot plenty of times, much worse than this.” Her eyes cut back to him. “I’m fine.” She could feel the coarseness to her words, the edge. It wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was.
She went quiet for a moment. Taking in a deep breath she looked from him and to her feet that just reached the floor from over the edge of the bed. “So what do you want?” Gaze again drifted to him with the slight turn of her head. It was a vague question, but was the biggest one. What did Will want. What was his motive for being her, for ‘helping’ her—what did he have to gain from all of this? Why had he tracked her down? Why was he here?
It was common for a victim to not know the full spec of what happened considering generally they were nothing more than a bystander, who got roped into a spider’s web. It was cruel and oddly fascinating how the world seemed to be made up of weavers and thread. Some people weaved together pieces of Fate’s fabric while others acted as the thread they used. In truth, everyone acted as each, a weaver and a piece of thread. It was impossible to never make an impact on someone’s life through a direct action taken, or so Atty believed, therefore it was impossible never to weave a piece of Fate’s fabric. Whether a person likes what they’ve created or not in said tapestry is another thing all together.
In this case, Tullen was the thread of someone else’s loom, someone else’s story. She’d been tangled and tied up, then left behind whenever the weaver realized she was not of use to his fabric anymore. Atty had seen far too many pieces of thread ruined in his day, but thankfully the doctor hadn’t been ruined—not yet. She was still together, still in one piece, still able to be untangled, and more importantly, she was still able to be kept from being tossed aside. She was still able to be protected and kept safe.
And he’d do just that.
As she began to speak again and look around the room, Atty let his hands lower from her face to allow her to look more freely.
She’d been...she’d been attacked? Someone had actually choked the kind doctor out? Who’d do such a thing?
Gears began to turn, the detective side of his mind starting to go to work.
She’d said she was checking on the female patient, so Tullen was looking over the gun shot victim that’d come in with the guy Atty had interacted with when it happened? It had to be the guy she’d been with. But why? Why’d he put the doctor down?
Because the guy needed to get himself and the girl out of the hospital. There was clearly more to the duo’s story than just some robbing or random attack. The guy had brought the girl in for medical attention, very well knowing that there was a risk involved, the risk of getting caught for whatever they’d been involved with. So why risk such a thing? Clearly the girl meant something to the guy, enough to face that risk. Or...or the guy had known very well that he’d be able to get them both out of the hospital. Or maybe it was both.
So why just choke the doctor? Why not kill her? After all, she’d seen the girl’s face more clearly than anyone. Tullen was huge loose end. Why not tie it? Because the guy was grateful, maybe? Grateful that the doctor had saved the girl’s life? Or maybe the guy just wasn’t cold blooded? Maybe he wasn’t a killer? But if he wasn’t, then what was he that made him have to run? A fugitive, maybe? That’d make enough sense. They were being hunted, which explained the bullets, but they weren’t killers.
Or maybe they were. There was not enough for Atty to form anything more than a bubble of possibilities. No matter the truth, though, the guy had put his hands on the doctor, evaded police questioning, and was now a personal target of Attican’s.
There was no more the doctor could tell Atty—not right now, at least. She needed to have time to process, to recover a bit. Letting her relax would better allow for details to come back to her. Plus...it’d allow for her to simply feel better, and Atty wanted that. He wanted her to feel safe again, to not have to relive what’d happened to her until she could handle it a bit better. It wasn’t good to pick at new wounds, after all.
The other doctor examining Tullen began to explain why he wasn’t going to draw blood and so forth, but all Atty heard was the underlining fact the doctor was failing to directly say: she’s okay. Physically, the doctor was okay; maybe she’d have some swelling around her neck and pain swallowing, but beyond that, Tullen was not hurt...physically. That was a weight off his shoulders.
“Attican.” Hearing his name, Atty looked over his shoulder to see a fellow officer, who was actually on duty, enter the room. The guy said he’d come as soon as he got the call, stating what should have been the obvious, and went on to tag on an attempt at humor. It wasn’t funny, not at the moment at least. Perhaps Atty would have gotten a laugh out of the kick in saying the patients were after more than just getting out of their medical bills, bu considering how much of an impacted it had on someone Atty found himself feeling responsible for, witty little comments like that weren’t funny.
So the man let it roll off his shoulder, not even offering a response, though he didn’t have to considering someone else took front stage. A nurse announced to one of the doctors that the blood analyzes were...odd.
What’d he mean by strange? And the better question, why was he coming to tell Doctor Nolan of this in the middle of the mess that’d just happened? It hardly seemed like the proper place or time, but regardless of the nurse’s lack of timing or reasoning, it still brought up questions, the main being: what the hell made their blood strange?
His eyes drew back to Tullen when she came to the realization that she’d lost her ID badge and medical coat. Maybe that’d help explain why the people’s blood had something funky going on! Her badge could have granted them accesses to the majority of the hospital, including the lab. Maybe the samples were contaminated by the patients in order to keep them from being identified? That seemed like a far jump, though, because there had to be more of their blood where the samples came from...unless biohazard had already taken care of it. But that’d be rather quick.
In any case, the ID would have helped them escape.
“Whoever attacked you could have taken it,” Atty suggested to the doctor. The little room was feeling very crowded. A nurse, two doctors, and two officers all jammed in, not too mention the curious onlookers trying careful not to stumble through the doors as they tried to listen in. Looking to the officer, Atty said, “Myles, go with him and hear what he has to say about the patient’s blood Doctor Tullen was treating.” The officer gave a nod, and motioned for the nurse to follow him from the room. Atty’s attention moved back to Tullen. “Don’t worry about your badge. We’ll have it deactivated.” He offered a small smile, though it held little grit when it came to anything happy. More of a smile made to offer reassurance, possibly ease the nerves the doctor may have still kinked. “In fact, I’d like for you not to worry about anything, because there isn’t anything to worry about. You’re safe now, and whoever did this won’t get close to you again.”
It was a promise, one he didn’t make lightly.
Kiks, i think im similar. A lot of my time away, i feel like im just clocked out of life. Nice that you're back, thouugh! And im glad you liked the tracker idea. --
Lyn, imma need to do thst in the character thread too, keep up with where all theyve been. Its so helpful. Look at us, full of ideas today!
So, just realized something that I shoulda a lot time ago. We should totally include 'trackers' in the first post for a character in a new thread if they've come from another one. For instance, if your character just got bite by some weirdo on the street who seems rabid and they go to the hospital, add ( Tracker : (view spoiler)) to help others figure out what happened previously. It'd help us find the whole story for characters so much easier lol. I'mma start adding it to all of mine.
---
With that said, where is everyone's activity?! Life got us super busy and all that jazz? I don't doubt it. I was gone for like four days (off and on) because of my work schedule, and I'll be on very little monday and tuesday because of the same thing. But anyway, I hope to see more of ya'lls beautiful characters getting their feet wet!
( Tracker : (view spoiler))
It happens to all of us at some point or another. We die. In truth, it was something that Mackenzie had grown to accept, that one day Death would swing his scythe at her, and she wouldn’t be able to dodge him again. There had been so many times already that she’d defied him his reaping; there was no doubt in her mind that he’d get his blade in her sooner rather than later. She’d accepted that. One day she would die. But she sure as hell didn’t plan on sitting back and making his job easy.
When the minds falls to darkness and Death nears, everyone’s experience is different—or so Enzi assumed. The girl stood in the blackness of her mind, her subconscious projecting her into a dream like state; some may say it was more than that, try claiming that it was her soul in the void, and she was in-between the living and dead—a limbo of sorts. It didn’t matter who was right, not to her at least. The facts remained the same. She was in the dark, and there was nothing she could do but wonder endlessly.
This had happened a time or two before, actually, and each time she wondered the black in hopes of finding something, anything. She always managed to, finding something to cling to during her time of need. But this time, there seemed to be nothing. No foothold to step into, nor a handle to grip to. There was nothing tying her down anymore. Maybe she’d given up without realizing? Maybe she’d lost hope—no, lost her determination, her drive...maybe she’d just lost. Maybe it had to do with the fact the last ‘family’ she held in the world was ‘gone’ now, that in that moment she’d lost any reason to push onward. That was it, wasn’t it? The latter. It had to be. Because there was no way she’d ever do the others...not her. Never her.
The girl was not a quitter, never a quitter, but everyone dies at some point. Everyone, no matter how hard they fought, would die. That was something to feel better about, wasn’t it? That there were times where there was nothing one could do to stay alive. So if she died now, it wasn’t her fault, right? Because, ya know, everyone dies.
It was an excuse, something to make her feel better about herself and the fact that she was doing the exact thing she’d sworn to never do: give up. No—not her...never her.
Still, there was nothing but darkness as she looked around. Not her..never her. A feeling of dread started to crawl across her skin, realization trying to scratch and claw it’s way into her. Again she whipped her head around, desperation beginning to claim her as it’s victim. There had to be something, had to be anything! Because there was no way she’d given up. There was no way was letting go—not now...not her.
It was said that the mind could decide the fate of the body, that the mind was so powerful that it could shut down organs and kill someone. On the flip side, the mind could kept someone tied to life, that a person could survive the impossible all because they simply wouldn’t let go, simply because they would not give up. So where the fuck was her foothold?! Her hand grip?! Her mind’s way of tying her to life rather than letting her die?! Because there was no way she’d given up. Not her...never her.
But still, there was nothing but darkness.
She stopped looking, the dread having disappaited as realization managed to get to her. Maybe she had… And that, that simple fact, was more disappointing and enraging than anything. If there was one thing she’d sworn, it was to never give up. To never stop pushing back. And here she was, doing just that—or at least the deepest parts of her subconscious was. It had to be because of him, because of Will, because of her last ‘family’ having been lost in a way. That was the only thing that changed since the last time she’d been face to face with Death and his scythe. He was the only thing that had made her hesitate, that’d made her falter, that’d made her slip up. He was the only thing she cared about besides rectifying the injustice brought upon her family. He was the reason she’d given up, he must have been.
So she’d die not knowing who she hated more: herself for giving up, or Will for being the one that made her.
In the midst of the darkness, in the midst of acceptance that she’d find nothing to save her this time, in the midst of dying, a whisper split the silence. ”You better stay with me.” It was a demand. In the distance, a light began to shine, and relief mixed with anxiousness began to flood her system.
Not her...never her.
-
Eyes opening, a blinding ‘soft white light’ stung her pupils, causing spots to cloud her vision as she tried to look around. Enzi knew she was on her back, could hear voices around her but not make out the words, and could tell she was moving. Blinking again, she managed to get rid of enough spots to see the faces of those pushing her along. Where was she? What had happened?
That’s right—she’d been shot, right? She was dying in an alley somewhere, and now she was…where? Trying to look around more, Enzi managed to catch the attention of one of the people over her. The woman’s gray eyes locked to Enzi’s. The woman’s lips moved, and Enzi heard the ups and lows of the words, but Mackenzie couldn’t manage to make out what the woman was saying.
She felt dazed, as if this was still a dream, though she knew it wasn’t. How’d she get there from where she’d been shot? It didn’t make sense. Another blink, and things started to dim again. But this time, Enzi wasn’t slipping into limbo, instead it felt more as if she were simply falling asleep.
-
Again, her eyes came open, the dazed and lifeless feeling she had had previously having been replaced with a soreness that ached across her body. Attempting to sit up, Enzi sucked in a quick breath to knock back the pain and keep pushing herself upright. She was on a bed, that much she knew, and as she got a quick look of the room, she knew it wasn’t the same place she’d woken up in however long ago it had been.
Clinching her teeth together, Enzi pulled her legs off the edge of the bed and sit at it’s edge, preparing herself to stand. As she started to do so, however, a hand caught her shoulder and pushed her back to her butt. Her gaze went up immediately, landing on Will. Something didn’t make sense—no, nothing really made sense. “What happened?” the words came out her mouth before she could do anything about it.
The time passed fast, at first, after Atty had came into his friend’s recovery room. It was typical of time to do such a thing, hasten its pace when one finds himself in the presences of happiness. Then as soon as happiness subsides, or in this case, Jackson fell back to sleep, the minute hand of the clock seemed to slack from its dance around its endless cycle, entering a near standstill. Each tick felt like an hour, and each hour felt like an eternity.
Despite time only easing passed once Jack returned to his rest, Attican remained in the dimly lit room. It was his responsibility, was it not? To watch over Jack, to make sure that nothing else went wrong. Maybe had he done a better job in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. So here he was again, wasn’t he? Right back in the grasp of his thoughts while in a setting of but only himself to distract him, an unreliable distraction at best.
But there was something that seemed to be drawing the man’s attention away from the darker depths of his own mind. A very determined and crafty woman’s face kept popping up. She had a way of getting under a man’s skin, didn’t she, Dr. Tullen? He wondered if that was something she used commonly to get the men she took on as patients to follow the protocols she sat for them to help them heal. Odds were she did. But the real question was did she realize she was even doing such a thing in the first place, using herself as an incentive to follow her protocols.
Now, Atty knew very well that the good doctor wasn’t actually using herself as an incentive, making herself nothing more than a prize men got for following her orders. No, no, it was nothing like that. It was something else, something far more controlling and dominate than straight up physical incentive. It was as if Atty wanted to give the doctor the satisfaction she got from healing those she has a hand in helping, as if he wanted to make her happy. Maybe it was just him, though. It could be due to that need of his to try and make others happy. Maybe Tullen was no different.
Or maybe it was something about her…
Upon hearing a commotion in the hall, footsteps sprinting past and a buzz of voices, all holding alarm and urgency within them, had Atty on his feet and headed out of Jackson’s room. Just outside of the door, he looked in the direction of those who’d ran past. Hearing another set, he looked in the other direction. A security guard was hustling along as well, running past Atty.
Something was going on, and the officer couldn’t sit back. It wasn’t in him to do such a thing. That’d require far too much restraint. Headstrong was a word commonly used to describe the man. There was simply no fighting it. Jogging down the hall, he eventually reached a gathering of medical personal, all huddled outside of a room. He pushed his way through them until he managed to get through the door.
At first the hand of the security guard stopped him from getting in, but he was quick to flash his badge, an action that was near innate to him. The guard let him pass; it took only a moment for Atty’s eyes to find none other than the good ol’ Doctor Tullen sitting on the edge of a patient bed, another doctor checking her vitals and examining her.
There was an emptiness in her expression, one Attican had come to know as shock, and he saw it often in the faces of bystanders after something came out of no where and hit them. It was as if the wind had gotten knocked out of them, as if their feet were snatched from beneath them, as if their entire world was shaken and possibly even shattered. And he hated it, he hated seeing that expression daunting the faces of innocents. He hated seeing the caring doctor who’d wanted to do nothing but help others in such a state.
There had been only a moment’s pause, a moment for him to register that something had happened, only a single moment for him to be right in front of her, knelt a bit before her. She was shaking, he could see it now, her eyes blankly locked to the tile of the floor. “Hey,” he said quietly, his hands going to either side of her face. She was jolted from her trance like state, eyes blinking a few times as her gaze came to meet his while he tilted her cradled face up to look to him. “It’s okay,” he promised. “You’re safe. Everything is okay.”
Calming the victims of any situation was required for a good chunk of a cops job, so he was just acting out of reflex, right? Calming the victim to get a better scape on what happened so he could help solve and fix things. That’s all this was, right? Just another case. Except...he wasn’t trying to calm the doctor to get stable enough to talk. Figuring out what’d happened was important, no doubt, but the only thing that the man wanted to do at that moment was help her, was to help the sweet doctor to feel safe, to feel sound, to know that nothing else was going to happen to her.
But, to make her feel truly safe, he did need to figure out what’d happened. “What happened?”
She was wrong; had it not for him, Jack wouldn’t have been put in the situation that got him hurt in the first place—or at least that’s what Attican would always believe. It was a critical flaw, to always believe what happened to those around him was his fault even if it was not. A form of self hate that went deeper than just a few layers of skin, something that couldn’t be brushed off and moved on from. Maybe intense therapy could help ‘cure’ such a thing, but there was nothing to cure in his eyes because, well, he didn’t believe he was just looking down on himself. He truly believed most things that went awry were his fault.
He did not correct the doctor, however. She was trying to be nice, she was trying to make him better—like she had done earlier, even if this time it was her attempting make him feel better emotionally rather than physically. The need to help others was buried deep within her, wasn’t it? An attractive quality, one that Atty posed himself, but unlike him, the doctor fixed people while he broke them.
Like usually, he went to distractions to draw himself from his thoughts, focusing intently on what Tullen was saying. She broke down what needed to be done to ensure Jack healed up nice and well. Each step she was giving would be followed to a ‘T’. Jack would get back to 100 percent, even if Atty had to force to boy to do what the doctor said.
Atty gave a nod to the doctor when she told him he could stick around until Jack woke up, thankful she was okay with letting him stay even though he knew it would be ‘best’ for him to be out of the way until Jack was in better shape.
As she spoke, a pair of nurses entered the room and started to check on Jack. Tullen pulled Attican and herself from the room, reminding Atty again that the next while was critical, that they were not out of the woods just yet. She was setting him up for the possibility that Jack took a turn for the worst. Because no matter how perfect any operation went, there was always a chance for something to just...not work. Anything could happen, still, and it was in a doctor’s handbook, Atty was sure, for them to always mention that after any sort of medical attention is given. This was the medical folk to set in some mental prepwork for if things did go off the hinges.
Then the doctor told him she had to go, that she had another patient to attend to. In honesty, Atty wouldn’t have guest the doctor had to attend to a patient. She wasn’t even in her pretty white coat. She probably just didn’t want to be rude and say she had to leave for a date, even elaborating on the patient: a woman with back pains. He gave the doctor another nod and a brief smile to sorta say ‘good bye’, but instead of letting that be her parting words, Tullen began telling Atty how she was off in a half an hour and how he could join her in the cafeteria for a bite if he wanted.
It was an automatic, but partly confused smile that tugged to the man’s lips as his brow raised. Wait, so she really wasn’t going anywhere all dressed up and pretty like? She literally did just walk around the hospital like that when not in scrubs during surgery? Then how the hell did she not already have several dates for the cafe? But it wasn’t a date, was it? No. It wasn’t. It was another ploy of the doctor’s, another way to draw Atty into doing what he needed to help him get into a better standing with regards to his condition.
She’d make a great mother, the way she guided a grown man along into doing things he normally wouldn’t think much about. If she could do that with Atty, she could easily get children to do whatever she wanted. But what did it matter if she’d make a good mother? It—it didn’t, not to him at least. Nope. Because, ya know, that’d mean that he was thinking about her as a mother, which would mean he was thinking about her with kids...and anyone only ever thought about that if they were thinking about someone having their kids. And that was not happening. Okay, so for a brief moment, maybe it had. But that was because of that innate animal side of humans to seek out suitable mates to carry their offspring. It was because of biology, and only biology.
He hadn’t gotten the chance to respond before the elevator opened up and Tullen stepped in, perhaps because he’d been caught off guard a bit. So, what did he do? He acted without thinking. He stepped in with her. Why? Who the fuck knew. Maybe because she was already wrapping him around her little finger without even doing anything? She was leaving little bread crumbs for him to follow, and he was doing it. Yeah sure she was only leaving them so he’d follow her into a world of better health and taking care of himself, but still, she was leading him along, and he was following.
It was quiet in the elevator, however. He hadn’t gotten a word to come from his mouth. He looked to her for a long moment before looking to the elevator doors again. “So in thirty minutes, you’ll be done with the woman with back pains, and back to making sure I take proper care of myself?” he smiled a bit as he looked back to her. “You weren’t kidding when you said you take serious pride in healing your patients.”
The doors opened as he finished speaking, and the look that flashed onto the doctor’s face caused his smile to fade and follow her eyes through the elevator entrance. Coming into the ER through the glass, slide doors was a man carrying a limp woman, both coated in blood. This was why he was a police officer, because bad shit happened to people like this every damned day.
His heart dropped, and everything began to slow—but as it slowed it also seemed to speed up. It was one of those weird things that adrenaline would do to someone. It’d distort the scene happen around them so much so that nothing made sense...and yet everything did. He was kicked into gear, as he always was at the sight of blood, rushing over towards the two just as the doctor had. He stepped outside to glance around and make sure there were no others in need of help. He came back in, the girl already being put on a gurney and rolled down the hall.
“Is there anyone else?” he began to ask the guy. With the shake of his head, the guy gave his answer to Attican. “What happened?”
“You can ask your questions later, officer,” the familiar voice of one of the nurses who’d been around when Atty would come in to question people. The nurse tried to get the man to sit down in a wheel chair, but he declined, attention seeming distant at best. He was worried about the girl, not himself, a feeling Atty was all too used to. The nurse resorted to guided the man down the hall, letting him walk.
A few things were already at work in Attican’s mind. One being that the man didn’t so much as limp despite having been shot. He was either used to pain or had a natural tolerance for pain. If it was the prior, then he must have some sort of job that involved getting hurt, similar to Attican. But Atty knew that the man’s face wasn’t that of an officer in his city. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be from out of the city. Or military, perhaps? Had the build for it either. If it was the latter, it didn’t much matter.
But what also had the officer’s attention was the fact that the man and woman had made it out of whatever they’d gotten into alive and there was no one else that needed attending to, or no bodies to account for. Usually, there was a body left behind if anyone walked away from a gun fight. If that was the case, why hadn’t the guy said anything? Attican’s gut tightened. Something felt off, but his attention was taken from that as soon as another nurse told him Jackson was awake.
Everything else went out the window. The only important thing for him being his friend who was waking up at the moment. Besides it would be an hour or two before he even got to question the guy, much less the girl. He had time to kill.
Of course I’d be armed; being cautious and being stupid are two completely different things—something I know Dad taught you. You weren’t being cautious. So which is it? Were you being stupid, or were you just being a backstabbing son of a bitch? It didn’t make sense—he wasn’t making sense. He was stumbling, or so it felt like that. It felt forced, all of his words, all of his train of thought. It was weird...it was off. Something was off.
But what?
Everything used to be easy, didn’t it? Conversation with one another, it was easy before...right? Or was it always off? Was there always a missing link that kept the two from having a natural conversation? A chink in their relationship that was not capable of mending that’d formed somehow...or perhaps that’d never been filled to start with? Was she only now noticing the break because she was looking so hard for it? Looking hard for anything to condemn Will, to shake the last tie she’d made before she’d stepped from her previous life?
Her face soften for a brief moment, perhaps so briefly it went unnoticed. What if.... Gone, it vanished as soon as his reasoning for why they trusted him was given, gone was her moment of thinking that maybe, just maybe there had always been a void, a chink, a break in their relationship. It has always been natural, right? This wasn’t. It wasn’t. Right?
Because, there was absolutely no possible way Will was telling the truth. He didn’t actually believe that she would buy in to that complete bullshit reason as to why they were having him come after her. They knew that she would never go nicely anywhere, no matter who was trying to lead her in. They knew she’d never trust anyone. They...they knew that she wouldn’t trust him, that she’d be even more suspicious of Will than anyone. They knew that she would delay in killing him, that she would be hesitant. They knew that she’d be left open to making a mistake.
Son of a bitch. They were using him. If he was a willing participant to their plan or if he was a gullible little kid trying to reach out to the only ‘family’ he had left after losing his father figure, Enzi couldn’t say, nor would she spend the time to figure it out. This was too messy for her to get into, for her to get her feet stuck in—for her to get trapped just like thy were, surely, hoping she would.
He knew why she was being hunted, why her father was killed—he knew that it had to do with her mother’s work. So they’d told him that much...or he’d figured it out on his own somehow. Maybe the did trust him? Or maybe they fed him just enough for him to squeeze through her guard. What if... She couldn’t afford to waste a second more.
Just a moment longer... For old time’s sake. Yes, messy, the situation was messy, but, well, they’d thought right. Heading for the hills was hard for a girl like her when faced with the one thing that could keep her from the climb to safety. Family. It was everything to her, and Will was the only ‘family’ she had. What if...what if he really does want to help you?
Didn’t matter. He was a liability at best, a loss end that could be tugged on to make her fall, to make her falter—to make her hesitate just like she was doing at that exact moment. No matter of his intents, Will was a hindrance.
Standing to her feet, the girl was silent. She dropped a knife right at the bottom of Will’s boots. “You may not hurt me, but if I see your face again, I’ll do more than hurt you.”
The one thing she hadn’t realized, she’d done just what Will had asked of her to prove that they were as close as they used to be. She’d given him the means to cut himself free, granted she hadn’t done it herself, but close enough. It was a mistake, a slip up, one of many she’d surely make if Will didn’t get from her life once more. She hadn’t wanted to leave any hope that there was still some sort of tie between them. She wanted Will to believe there was nothing there, that he was just some memory lost in her past.
She began to walk passed Will to get hold of the ladder. Pausing at the base of it, she looked down to him one more time. “I’m sorry...” for getting you mixed up in this. I’m sorry for the ending your story holds because of the chapters my family has wrote for you. I’m sorry that you’re going to die either by them or by me. I’m so sorry. “But I can’t trust you.” With that, she began to climb the ladder, hand going up to push the manhole out of her way and allow her to pull herself onto an empty, street cast in shadows as twilight began to leave the city and night approached.
Her feet now steady on the asphalt, Enzi pulled the manhole back in place, trying her best not to spare any last glance to Will. This was how it had to be. It was safest for him, and it was safest for her. This was how it had to be.
Standing straight, she began to turn around to leave. Her guard was down, just as they’d surely predictable it would be. Her senses were off. Her skin didn’t even crawl a single bit from the pair of eyes burning into her. Her paranoia didn’t kick into gear in the least, not even as her gaze landed on the guy several strides away. She didn’t have time to click pieces into place, to shake the effect that Will had brought onto her off, before the guy pulled the trigger on the pistol he had held out straight and aimed at her. Even as the sound cracked through the thickening night air, and the sting in her shoulder splintered sharply through her entire body, she didn’t put the pieces into place.
She’d made a mistake. She’d let her guard down. He’d made her let her guard down. That’s what they wanted. They wanted her to doubt him, to question everything, they wanted her in a state of contemplation. They waned this exact thing to happen, didn’t they? As another sting of pain sunk into her flesh and snaked through her body, it started to click. This was her fault. Wasn’t it? She should have known this was what they wanted. Another pop rattled down the alley, and another stab of pain.
This was what they wanted. Wasn’t it? As darkness started to dot her vision, as she stumbled back a few steps before falling to the ground, Mackenzie realized she’d done what her father had. She’d let her guard down around family. She was going to die the same way he had, because of family.
Ah, so this wasn’t about him. Of course it wasn’t—she was a doctor, a professional, who’s main goal in life was to heal all those her hands touched. He was a patient of Tullen’s, and he was not recovering enough for the doctor’s liking. It was a bit of a surprise to Atty when he felt a bit of disappointment seep in, an emotion he was quick to push down. It was an emotion he did not want to deal with, as were most.
Now physical pain? That was something Atty could handle like a champ. The bite of the staples was nothing more than a twinge of pain for Atty, something he’d learned to ignore, to push to the back of his mind as if it weren’t even there. Then again, no matter the level of pain, Attican was pretty skilled in ignoring any and all of it with regards to himself.
Both the brief disappointment and the sting of staples were shaken off, yet there was something managing to get his heart rate off and nerves sending off sparks. The doctor—no, the woman...the beautiful woman who was helping him, taking care of him. She was still getting to him, even after she clarified this was only to see what she started through. Nothing personal.
Maybe that’s what allowed Atty to feel at ease enough to feel such a spark, to allow him to feel attracted to the doctor, to be drawn to her. Maybe it was the fact that she’d straight up said that there was nothing more than professionalism between them that made Atty able to feel ‘safe’ to liking her. If there was no future, there was no future pain, loss of love, chance of getting too close to someone. Messed up, yeah, sure, but in a screwed up way, it was understandable.
Atty wasn’t much one for letting someone help him, always trying to avoid being a burden, but he was still human. Humans, no matter what, will always feel ‘special’ or ‘cared for’ when someone helps them—a few of them having that feeling being so deep that it’s not even noticed. Attican was no different. He could hate being helped all he wanted, but he would always feel grateful to those who forced their care upon him, even if he never showed his gratitude.
“You can put your clothes back on, that's all I needed to do. That wasn't so bad, it's better to just listen to your doctor then risk further injury.” It wasn’t everyday a woman told him he could put his clothes back on. If his clothes had gotten off in the first place, usually the girl with him would make sure they stayed as such. A halfcocked smile drew to his face. He was starting to like her. The unattainable are always the most desired, aren’t they? Sadly.
Before he could respond, a nurse walked in with news on Jackson. Everything was dropped, all thoughts, all cares, everything, the officer’s feet hitting the floor as his fingers started to do up the buttons on his shirt. His primary, his only, reason for being in the hospital was waking up. Being there and seeing how Jack was was the only thing that mattered to him now. He didn’t even notice the nurse blush after catching a glimpse of him before he’d gotten to his buttons. It wasn’t something he usually did notice. Not too self aware, the poor boy.
“Yeah, sounds great,” he said, voice distant once more, the formal side of the two’s relationship sprouting back up like weeds on the side of the road. She was no longer a pretty woman helping him. She was, once more, a doctor who was about to take her to one of his good friends...who was only here because of Atty. Guilt. Shake it off.
She started to lead him from the room, guiding him, hopefully, to the place she’d actually said that she was taking him. With his wound all ‘fixed up’, he doubted the doctor had anywhere else to trick him into going to. It didn’t take too long to reach a room, Tullen swinging it open and Atty following through.
There on a bed, still knocked pretty out from being under in the OR, was the kid that Atty was supposed to be looking out for. A deep breath flooded into Attican’s lungs. Jack was alive, something he could now truly allow himself to believe. Seeing is believing, after all. “Damn, dumb kid,” he said under his breath. With the shake of his head, he continued as he walked closer to the bed’s edge. “You ran right in the middle of a storm of bullets and fire.” Stopping short a foot or two, Atty’s fists tightened at his sides. He looked to Tullen. “Thank you, for saving him.”
