The Aftermath (Richie)

[Abigail Sykes]

Watch the end through dying eyes
Now the dark is taking over
Show me where forever dies
Take the fall and run to Heaven
All is lost again
But I'm not giving in
I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away

Abby only drove a few blocks before dizziness washed over her and she swerved into the other lane. She quickly pulled the wheel back so she was in her own lane and pulled off to the side of the road. Reaching behind her seat she grabbed a rag, which was of course dirty and pressed it to her side. The bullet had been through and through, so she grabbed another one sticking it between her back and the seat, and seating back as hard as she could.

Pain radiated through her body and a small whimper escaped her lips. There was no way she was going to be able to get back to the truck stop in time. Even if she did, Abby didn’t have the necessary tools to stitch herself up. Which was just stupid on her part, and she realized that. She could lecture herself over it later though.

Right now she had to figure out what the hell she was going to do.
Going to a hospital was definitely out of the question. She hadn’t gone to one since she was eighteen and she had no plan on visiting one ever again. Not if she could help it anyways, and unless she figured something out, she was going to have to go. She wouldn’t die. That much she knew. Cheveyo would heal her enough so that she wouldn’t if she was near the brink of death. Abby really didn’t want to let it get that far though.

Leaning her head back against the seat Abby cursed her stupidity in going to King for information on her mother. On top of it, he’d gotten the information for a dirty cop. She didn’t know if he was alive or dead, but if Abby had known he was going to involve the police she would have opted out from the beginning. At least that’s what she told herself. She looked over at the bloody folder next to her that contained all the information she had on her mother. The woman had abandoned her when Abby was eight and left her to an abusive father. That file supposedly said her mother was the prime suspect in the murder of her father.

Except the police had classified it as an animal attack. She knew that because when she woke up screaming about a monster they thought she was crazy. After several hours of protesting this, swearing it wasn’t just a bear or a leapord, but something more, they thought she had some sort of mental trauma and was threatening to send her up to the psych ward for observation.

Finally she had relinquished, saying it was a bear. She knew the truth, but she was tired of being called crazy, tired of the cops forcing stories down her throat. They didn’t believe her. Didn’t believe that damn thing had red eyes.

Leaving the folder for now Abby reached into her pocket with sweaty palms pulling out her cellphone. She didn’t have a lot of friends in the city as she hadn’t been around long. She thought about calling her boss, but didn’t want to risk losing her job. How the hell was she going to explain a gunshot wound to Ash? No that was definitely out. She scrolled through the few names in her phone and sighed when she kept going back to the same one.

Abby had met him a few weeks ago. He had been a decent guy, and damn good in bed. The question was did she trust him. She figured she was going to sound crazy calling him in the middle of the night, but what other choice did she have? There was no one else she could call. Her arms were beginning to shake as darkness danced at the corner of her vision. Abby was going to pass out shortly, and that left her vulnerable to anyone else passing by on the street. Even if she got close enough to death that Cheveyo healed her, he couldn’t stop someone from hurting her while she was unconscious. Making her decision she called him.

“Richie, its Abby” Her voice echoed with pain. She hadn’t expected it do, but damn if her side didn’t hurt like hell. “Sorry to call you this late, but…I screwed up and I need your help.” Abby felt childish and stupid calling him and asking for help. She was used to relying on herself, but right now she didn’t have that luxury. “Can you come get me?” Her eyes were beginning to flutter and she just prayed that Richie would be willing to help her out.

[richie]

Ah, the glamorous life of a homicide detective. A cold beer, a microwave dinner and a good game on the TV was all he got waiting for him when he’d get home after a long shift. Not that Richie was wishing for a cute wife to welcome him home, call him darling and share his feelings. No, but a sexy girl in a maid outfit to cook him a decent meal and keep him warm for the night didn’t sound bad.

Yeah right.

It had been another night of chasing the bad guys and avoid getting killed. No wonder he didn’t want to share or chat about it when he got home. Once he’d take his gun from his holster, the badge and placed them on the table by the door, it was time to relax and forget about the job. The precious little free time he had, he didn’t want to waste thinking about work. No, he was now blinded by chewy food, cold beer and TV glory. That was the life.

Getting himself cozy, he pushed away the half eaten food, killed the beer and leaned back into the couch as his eyes followed the ball in the game. Damn, he should have betted in that pool in the precinct, who said the Lakers were going to lose? Richie sure could use some money to finally buy a new car. Something that got him where he wanted to go with less humiliation and that didn’t die on him from time to time and his beaten up Mustang wasn’t filling the bill anymore.

With a stiff yawn, he stretched and felt his eyelids grow heavy. Maybe it was the time he got his three hours of beauty sleep before he was up and about again.

Or maybe not.
His phone started ringing and even so that he tried to ignore it, the damned thing decided to be annoying.

Rubbing his eye, Richie rose from the couch and picked the phone from the coffee table, flipping it open and bringing it to his ear.

“Richie here,” he said in an annoyed tone as he waited for a reply in the other end. His eyes opened up slightly when he heard the voice. Abby, he didn’t hear from her in a few weeks, was she calling for a booty call? No, there was something off in her voice and…she screwed up? What was going on?

The cop was barely able to hear her voice when she gave out her location before the phone grew silent. Dammit, what the hell she’d got herself in? Richie had no idea, but he was off the door in less than two minutes.

The mustang took a while to start, but before long he was standing where Abby said she would be. Richie looked right and left and no sign of her anywhere, a freaking crank call? Did he piss her off somehow so that she would want to play a trick on him or something? Because all that was there was a truck parked across the street and…wait a minute. A flash of movement inside the truck got his attention and he gave a little jog towards it and looked through the window.

Shit!

In a hurry, he moved to the driver’s side and pushed the door open. Thankfully it wasn’t locked, but crap, Abby was bleeding. Was that a bullet wound…? Shit!

“Hold on Abby,” he said, “I’m taking you to a hospital.”

[Abigail Sykes]

Watch the end through dying eyes
Now the dark is taking over
Show me where forever dies
Take the fall and run to Heaven
All is lost again
But I'm not giving in
I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away

Abby hadn’t meant to drop the phone but her arm had grown heavy to the point where it felt like dead weight. She could no longer hold it up and fell to her side, the phone escaping her fingers. She was so cold. With what strength she could muster, Abby used her other hand, trying to press the blood soaked rag harder against the wound.

When she got somewhere safe she was going to have to disinfect the wound, which was going to hurt like hell, but the rag was dirty and caked with grease. Unfortunately it was the only thing she had to staunch the blood, and she wasn’t doing a good job of it either.

This was not a good situation for her to be in. Abby hoped Richie got there soon. She felt herself growing weaker and she didn’t want to get to the brink and then have Cheveyo help her. He’d only lecture her again, telling her that she needed to spend more time meditating, learning. With everything else she’d just learned tonight she was not in the mood for Cheveyo’s know it all attitude to boot.

At some point she lost consciousness. She had to have, because suddenly someone was opening her driver side door. All of her defenses came back, her body tensing, sending a stream of pain through her gut. Blinking her eyes open, she saw Richie’s blurry face, his bright blue eyes filled with worry. Already she was cursing herself for calling him.

When Richie mentioned taking her to the hospital, Abby tried to jerk her head up, but it more so lolled to the side to look at him. “No!” It didn’t come out as demanding as she hoped, more like pleading whimper. “I…I’m not reporting this.” Which was true, but not the reason she didn’t want to go to the hospital.

“No cops. No hospitals or doctors.” She shook her head lightly, her hair cascading over her face. “It’s not a lethal wound. I just need a safe place go. I can stop the bleeding and stitch it up then.” Her head fell back against the seat as she battled for consciousness. How she was actually going to stitch her herself up was mystery. She was weak as a kitten, but she’d find a way. It wasn’t the first time she’d been hurt, she doubted it would be the last. “Please Richie,” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Just take me some place safe.”

Absently she grabbed onto the bloody file that King had given her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was important, even if there were more demanding matters. She didn’t want to lose it. It may have answers about her mother inside. Or, if King really did get the information from a dirty cop, it could just as well be lies. Either way she didn’t want it getting left behind for anyone to grab.

“Please,” She whimpered again, letting the desperation into her voice. The last place she wanted to go was to a hospital and the last people she wanted to talk to were cops. She just wanted to know she was safe while she was out of it. Richie had been kind her to. He seemed like a good man. Abby just hoped she was right. “Please, Richie. No hospitals.”


Abby realized she was repeating the same plea over and over again. Cold fear washed through her as she realized that Richie could take her anyways and she was too weak to fight. Either way, all she could do was ask. In the end it was Richie's choice. The last thing she thought before darkness claimed her, was hoping she made the right decision in calling him.

[richie]

Oh man, she was bleeding profusely and needed a hospital. He was going to get her to a doctor and find out what happened later. Yeah, that was the plan, keep her alive and them find the bastard who hurt her, kick his ass and just then put him behind bars. Only then, she was telling him not to take her to a hospital. He frowned and looked at her, Richie could only figure that she was into the kind of trouble that explaining why you got a bullet wound got you arrested.

Ah Crap! And all of the people she would call, she would call him, a cop? Granted she didn’t know he was a cop, still that put him in a delicate position if he didn’t take her to a hospital and report.

Dammit Abby, what she got herself into?

But what Richie really knew about her anyways? He met her in a bar in a lazy neighborhood, they got drinking and then went straight ahead to a motel’s room. The only reason they had exchanged phone numbers was because the sex was great and they wanted to keep in touch for booty calls. So what did he knew of her again? Not a thing.

Be the good cop, take her to a hospital and report in. Don’t be the good cop, take her somewhere else and risk his work, as well as a chance to go to jail for assisting a criminal and getting locked with some of those oh so forgiving types he put away. But there was a third choice, he could just reach forward, touch her wound and heal her. Just then it would be him bleeding from a bullet wound, only without a bullet on his side.

He was between his conscience, his duty and being a freak.

And he had to decide fast by the way she was bleeding. Memories of Tim came rushing back to his mind and he cursed inwardly. He hadn’t saved his friend and he blamed himself every second since them, he couldn’t let her die as well or that would be another death in his head.

Pulling her into his arms, he hurried to place her into the passenger side and climbed into the driver’s side of her truck. The key was on the ignition, so he started the engine and rushed out. Alright no hospitals, at least until he knew what was going on, but he still needed a doctor and knew exactly where to find one.

Richie had already arrested the guy a few times, a doctor who had lost his license and now patched up criminals in his house. The doctor didn’t need much incentive, all that took was threatening to arrest him and he was already working on Abby’s wound.

The man didn’t want to go to jail again, good thing he wasn’t smart enough to know Richie didn’t had any evidence to arrest him this time.

[Abigail Sykes]

Watch the end through dying eyes
Now the dark is taking over
Show me where forever dies
Take the fall and run to Heaven
All is lost again
But I'm not giving in
I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away

Fiery pain seared through her side as Richie pulled her into his arms tearing a cry from her throat. Her head lolled to his shoulder, but she kept a light grip on the folder. He moved her into the passenger side, and Abby was shocked when her truck started right up. He was tearing through the streets. Richie hadn’t given Abby an answer as to where he was taking her. Or maybe he had. Everything was foggy, fuzzy.

The only thing she knew for certain was that she couldn’t lose the folder.

At some point Abby blacked out again. She woke when Richie once again lifted her into his arms, sending a new pain through her. They weren’t at a hospital. A run down house in a bad part of town.
That much she could tell. At first she thought it was Richie’s place, but then realized he had taken her somewhere to get her fixed up.

They laid her on bed in a backroom, and after what seemed a quick argument, the new man went to work. He took out a syringe, telling Abby it was a sedative. She shook her slightly back and forth. “No.” She was not going to be chemically knocked out. She was on the verge of passing out anyways. No additional help was needed.

The doctor sighed and moved to her side, lifting her shirt to look at the damage. He removed the dirty rag, muttering a curse about possible infection before disinfecting the wound. It was like someone had poured molten lava in the wound. Abby’s back arched up from the pain of it, another scream tearing from her mouth. She gripped the edges of the bed, when the doctor grabbed hold of her and pushed her back down.

“Be still,” He told her. “Or I’m going to have to sedate you.”

“No,” She said through gritted teeth, forcing her back down to the table.

“I’m going to roll you on your side, I’ve got to disinfect the exit wound as well.”

Abby nodded and felt his hands roll her on her side. He cut away the rest of her shirt and poured the liquid over her back. Abby reached out, finding an arm and squeezed tightly. Son of a bitch if it didn’t hurt, but she kept still, not wanting to have to be sedated.
Realizing she had Richie’s arm, Abby looked up at him. She was grateful he hadn’t taken her to the hospital. Grateful he hadn’t called the police. He hadn't even asked her any questions about what happened. She figured they were coming though. There were always questions when someone got shot.

Still, she was going to have to find some way to repay him. “Thank you, Richie. You're a good man. I owe you.”


By the time the doc got to stitching Abby was drenched in sweat. Her eyelids felt like two ton anvils. It was too little too late when Abby realized that she no longer had hold of the folder, and darkness claimed her.

[richie]

What in hell he was doing there? Helping out a girl he knew nothing about to get patched up from a freaking bullet wound that he should be reporting instead of bringing her to a doctor of gangster. If the damn idiot squealed, he could lost his badge at the very least, and oh joy, they could just find out he was a freak with a healing touch.

But what else was he supposed to do? Turn a blind eye and head home? Like that wouldn’t haunt him forever if he did, no Richie couldn’t afford another death on his conscience. Hell, if he could go back again, he’d trade places with Tim in a heartbeat.

He frowned as he heard Abby turning down the sedative, heck, he was half tempted to tell the doc to give him that shot so he would stop worrying. But then again, that thought didn’t come as a big surprise, didn’t he use booze and sex to numb his mind already?

Leaning against the wall behind him, Richie crossed his arms over his chest and watched the doctor intently, making sure he didn’t mess up or tried anything while he tried to play cool and pretend he wasn’t worried at all. He was so good at masking his feelings after all. Yeah, just play the though ass cop and let the doctor worry about himself if he messed up with Abby.

Ah hell, he couldn’t do this impersonal shit. No matter how stupid it was to give himself a chance to get close to someone, he walked over to her and caught her hand in his. Damned morals, damned him for caring.

And, ah crap, don’t thank him.
Man, he was going to need a drink and soon.

It didn’t take long before Abby was out like a light and the doctor finished stitching her up and patching her up. The poor girl looked like she had a rough time, and it wasn’t just about getting shot.

“I’m all done cop,” the doctor spoke, “now I’d appreciate if you took the girl out of here.”

Richie raised a brow. “Your concern with your patients is touching doc,” he spoke with heavy sarcasm. Ah, but what to expect from a guy like this one? “You tell about this little visit to anyone and you’re getting a free trip to jail, not to mention you will need a doctor yourself, got it?”

The man gulped hard and nodded. Good, Richie hoped he kept his mouth shut.

Now he had to get Abby somewhere safe, and hell, he could only think of one place. Home sweet home. It didn’t take them long to get there and for Richie to place Abby down gently into his bed. Leaving her to slip and recover, he traced his steps back to the kitchen, took a beer can out of the fridge, opened it up and downed it in the blink of an eye before getting another and moving to the couch. He didn’t need and didn’t want to think about the risk he was taking, all he did was to gulp down the fresh beer before sleep claimed him.

[Abigail Sykes]

Watch the end through dying eyes
Now the dark is taking over
Show me where forever dies
Take the fall and run to Heaven
All is lost again
But I'm not giving in
I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away

Abby was younger, a teenage version of her current self. Her eyes were sad, full of fear, and they didn’t have any shine to them. Her father kept a stern hand on her shoulder as they walked inside their home. She was in trouble again, but he was waiting until they were behind closed doors before he punished her. His punishments were often original and often left Abby curled in bed bloodied and bruised.

It was somewhere during the third or fourth hit to her face that a large animal smashed through the window. It was large, something wolf or coyote like, but really neither. It had bright red eyes and long sharp fangs. Drool dripped from its snout as it hunched forward, hackles raised.

Fear constricted Abby’s heart as she looked at the beast. It was unlike any animal she’d ever seen before, and there was no curiosity on it’s gaze. The beast lept towards her father and something shimmered and Abby saw her mother’s face.

“No!” The beast viciously slashed open her fathers stomach with elongated claws and dug it’s snout into his belly pulling out intestines. Abby grabbed a broom, trying to swing at the beast, but it reared on her, slashing its claws into her shoulder.

Searing pain crashed through her and Abby screamed, grabbing onto her arm that was only barely attached, hanging by threads of sinew and muscle. Looking back, Abby saw her mothers face flash over the beast again, but her brain couldn’t register it. The pain was too much and she continued to scream.

The screams carried from Abby’s dream to reality. She jerked up, a hand reaching for her scarred shoulder. Then as if it was a delayed reaction pain flashed in her side tearing a cry from her throat. Hunching over she grabbed her side, gasping and looking around wildly.

Where the hell was she? What had happened? Taking a deep breath Abby closed her eyes, willing the pain to ease and tried to remember. She’d been shot and then…Richie, she’d called Richie, begged him not to take her to the hospital.

There were flashes of being somewhere else, but for the most part it was foggy. Lifting her shirt she noticed that the wounds were stitched and clean. It almost seemed to be professional work, but if Richie had taken her to the hospital she would still be there and cops would be waiting for her when she woke. She shuddered at the thought.

The edge of the bed dipped and Abby looked up, finding Richie sitting on the edge of the bed, worry settling in his eyes. Abby realized what she must have looked like. Pale, sweaty, she’d been shot and was screaming from nightmares. She was a train wreck.

“I…it…” Shaking her head Abby bit her lip and leaned into him placing a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.” She shivered and leaned into him, needing to feel something solid, something real.

It seemed like what Abby knew was falling apart. Had her mother hired the skinwalker to go after her father? Was Abby supposed to have died too? What was going on?

Lifting her head again she looked around for the folder. It had information she needed. “Where is it?” Getting up she staggered over to the dresser, ignoring the rush of dizziness that swept over her. “The folder where is it?”

((OOC sorry if I moved Richie too much, I figure he'd hear the screams, if it's too much let me know and I'll change it <3))

[richie]

Ah, a dreamless sleep. To be so exhausted or drunk to pass out rather than to sleep and dream was a blessing for Richie. Then there would be no nightmares and no memories until he could immerse himself into work or into the next bottle or girl.

Yeah, life was a freaking party.

But that silent sleep didn’t last long, the sound of screams made his eyes snap open and his hand move into a haze and grab the gun on the coffee table next to his badge. He was home? Who the hell was the screaming woman in his home? As he looked around trying to piece it together, it took him a few seconds to remember the events of last night.

And when he did, he cursed.

Shit, he was going against everything his badge meant he was supposed to do. He didn’t know anything about Abby besides how she was in bed, so why the hell was he helping her? Man, had he reached a new level of stupid? The chief would just love to get his ass for that. Was he doing the right thing? He believed he was, no idea why, but the laws didn’t quite care if his intentions were good when disobeying them.

But damage control was first, make Abby stop screaming, yeah, that sounded like a good idea. He got to his feet, tucking in his gun in between the small of his back and his belt and rushed towards the bedroom. Abby laid in bed, turning and screaming, but her eyes were shut like she was having one hell of a bad dream. Richie didn’t have to be told how that felt like.

“Abby!” he said trying to wake her. “Shit, ABBY!”
But she just kept turning and screaming. So he came in closer, taking a seat on the bed, he took her hand in his. “ABBY, WAKE UP! YOU’RE SAFE, IT’S ALRIGHT!”

When she woke up, her eyes locked into his and he was relieved to see that she calmed enough to stop screaming. But what she did next was something that almost made him run for the hills. As she leaned towards him, placing a kiss on his lips and leaned into him as for comfort, it was a good thing she couldn’t see his wide eyes. Was this…was he…them in a…relationship?

If that was the case, he didn’t think a ‘sorry babe, I’m just not looking for anything long term now’ would be the way to go. Yeah, what mess he put himself into.

[Abigail Sykes]

Watch the end through dying eyes
Now the dark is taking over
Show me where forever dies
Take the fall and run to Heaven
All is lost again
But I'm not giving in
I will not bow
I will not break
I will shut the world away
I will not fall
I will not fade
I will take your breath away

Abby was still frantically looking for the folder, her limbs shaky when she turned to see the shocked look on Richie’s face. He seemed to be mulling something over, but Abby didn’t have time to worry about what it was. She was still weak and tired. He’d been kind enough not to ask what was going on. She hoped things stayed that way.

“Jesus Christ, Richie, I know I’m just a booty call, but could snap out of whatever daze you’re in and tell me where the damn folder is?”

That little burst of anger cost her more energy than Abby thought possible. Dizziness hit her and she leaned against the wall, swallowing back the nausea that was swimming through her belly. The pain she had momentarily forgotten came back full force. Abby instinctively grabbed her side and gave a little cry.

“Look.” That one word was almost breathless. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you. Just tell me where the folder is and I’ll leave.”

She didn’t want to be a nuisance or a bother. Richie wasn’t a boyfriend or hell not really even a friend. He was some guy she’d slept with a few weeks ago. He’d been nice enough to make sure she’d been taken care of. Abby couldn’t ask for more than that and she didn’t want to intrude anymore than she already had.

The nausea was getting worse and Abby swallowed thickly. “Oh god. Where’s your bathroom?”

[richie]

Yeah a folder, she was looking for a folder right? Something to focus on, but aside from finding her, bringing her to a doctor and then back to his house, Richie had done a poor job of his homework. He hadn’t searched her car to see if there was any evidence of what went on with her – yeah, a helluva cop he was huh?

And it seemed he didn’t hide the shock on his face quick enough, because the way she lashed out at him. Dammit! What was a guy that was terrified about the idea of commitment do? It had nothing to do with her. She seemed to be a nice girl…that is, aside from the shady call in the middle of the night, her being shot and not wanting to go to a hospital.

“I…uh…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Ah yeah, he had almost forgot, he was good at the flirting, entertaining and arresting the bad guys, but he was terrible at this – caring and squirming inside that if he got too close someone would know him for the freak he was and that he could have saved his best friend but was too afraid to do that.

No surprise his only real relationship, Julia, had walked away from him like she had.

But then his brows furrowed in concern as he saw the look on Abby’s face. She wasn’t looking too good. Placing one arm around her waist he helped her to stay straight.

“Here let me help you…and you won’t be leaving until you’re alright. You’re not in a condition to be around on your own.”

Giving her a little tug to help her stand up, he kept her close.

“Come on, let me guide you to the bathroom.”