2022-05-10 - Fucking Haggleford

Just a voicemail, left on Ava's cell phone. No big deal. She gets lots of them, right?

Doctor Brennon? This is Lucy Delroy at Addington Memorial. You're listed as an emergency contact in the phone of, uh... Mickair Hastings? I'm sorry to let you know that he's been admitted after an incident this morning. He's been hurt pretty bad, but he's stable. Please do call back or drop in when you have a moment?

Sure enough, that is absolutely Mikaere in that hospital bed. His face is clearly of injury, but his chest is a mass of bandages, showing above the blanket that has been tucked to his waist. His eyes are closed; his breathing not quite even enough to suggest that he's sleeping, though it's pretty ragged: it probably hurts a lot. (No surprises as to why, given what's on his chart: a good number of broken ribs; a stab wound; a bullet hole; more bruising, internal and external, than is really fair to deliver to a man. Not as bad as it could have been, though.)

There was no return call. There was only Ava tearing through the town on her way to the hospital thankful for those special letters on her plates that note her as an emergency worker to keep her from getting tickets when she is making her way towards the hospital's direction. This counts as a medical emergency, right? There's no need to wait for a nurse because her own credentials are enough to give Ava access to the database, letting the doctor know exactly where Mikaere is.

It doesn't take long before she's pushing her way into the room in order to check on him, having grabbed the chart from the outside door first to go over the notes. So intrusive. But, she needs to know exactly the extent of the damage. "Stab wounds? Bullets? Broken ribs. What happened? Who did this to you? Where are they?"

Those dark eyes? They flicker open. Mikaere's plainly trying not to move too much-- because, well, ouch -- but he can smile easily enough, and does so now, albeit in a pained kind of way. "Good to see you too, Ava," he offers by way of answer, carefully. "I hope you weren't doing anything too important."

He's been propped up in bed to make breathing easier, which at least means he can look in her direction without straining his neck. "I have no idea where they are. Or really, what happened. I may have possibly done a very stupid thing for a very good reason. I'm having regrets, but only a few. Teenagers, Ava. They were trying to kidnap teenagers." His hands, resting on either side of his body, curl up into fists unconsciously.

"This is important," Ava reminds him with a scoffing sound. "With this level of injury you're lucky to be alive. You're in great hands here, but you'll be a lot better when I'm done here." Bright eyes watch him in quiet concern, brows knit as she surveys the damage that she can actually see. At least he seems to be in good spirits.

"Someone was trying to kidnap teenagers? Here?" Wait. There's a pause as her mind clicks over. They. "They-they? Haggleford they?" Oh, her eyes begin to darken at that. Starting to take children now? Not that she's terribly surprised that they'd stoop so low. It's probably not even the first time. Just the first time that they got caught. "Bastards." Her hand reaches out over to his clenched one, resting on it. "You did the right thing. I'm sorry you got so injured for it. I have to ask, is it okay for me to heal you?"

Good spirits... and a lot of painkillers. It's a killer combination. There's definitely a faint loopiness in his expression, though his brow furrows in an attempt to focus. This is important.

"Yeah," he says, gaze dropping towards her hand on his. "Yeah, you can heal me. Please. They were drugged, I think, and then taken outside the club or wherever. I have to assume it was Haggleford. Some of 'em glowed. The goons, not the kids. I don't think the kids did." He makes a face. "Wish I'd caught more of it, but they took me down pretty quick. That's what you get for being the tall brown guy yelling at them to stop, huh?"

Ava squeezes his hand gently. "You gotta get in some good shots first and then yell at them. Otherwise they'll use you as target practice. But I guess you learned that one the hard one, huh? Do you know if they got away with the kids or not? Were there other people there? I'm guessing so if they didn't take you, as well. You're a good body, so I'm guessing they would have grabbed you too if they had won the fight."

Permission to heal given, Ava takes a breath and lets the power flow through her. Lashes give a flutter before all of that green, druidic energy starts to flood from her and into Mikaere, finding those wounds and beginning the repairs. It's so warm.

Another time, Mikaere might make a joke about his 'good body', but not now: now, he waits, eyes closed, while that healing energy warms the blood in his veins, and nudges flesh to knit. His sigh is an exhale; relief, absolutely, somewhat tempered by the morphine in his system that makes it harder to feel things, both good and bad. "I'd forgotten what that feels like," he says, with a wry little laugh. "Thanks, Ava."

His eyes slide back open. "Yeah, there were other people there. Shots fired. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I think we won, otherwise-- yeah. I reacted too fast. Should've taken someone down before I spoke up, but I acted on instinct. I've never actually used my power that way, on this side, until now. Lesson learned, though there's a pretty good chance I'd still throw myself into the fight without thinking next time, too."

Ava watches the relief on his face and relaxes a little bit herself. Some of the tension rolls out of her shoulders. "You're more than welcome. Any time you need it, I'm here, okay?" Once the healing finishes, that green aura settles back in around her like a soft glow. "I'm glad that you weren't alone at the very least. You could have died, otherwise."

Her eyes squint, studying his face. "Did you -know- that there were others there? Or did you just jump in yelling? Because one answer is going to get you scolded."

There's a glimmer of mirth in Mikaere's eyes, now: another clear indication that he's feeling significantly better already. "There's a reason I put you in my phone as an emergency contact," he says, not quite with a laugh, but definitely with the suggestion of one. "I think they rang my ma as well, but luckily she's too far away to heal me or wallop me."

Is that a subtle answer to her question? It might be. So too might the flush in his cheeks, just faint but nonetheless visible.

"I owe someone my life, that's for certain. I'm not sure who; I didn't really get a good look."

"Alright. We need too work on your battle tactics then, because jumping in like that is only going to get you killed. You were basically just lucky this time is what I'm hearing." Ava gives him a little flick to the shoulder where he's completely uninjured and it won't actually hurt. "I'm calling your mom and telling her that! Just watch me."

Still, there's a thankful smile. "I'm glad for whoever they were for keeping you safe, and making sure you got to the hospital."

Mikaere sticks out his tongue in answer, but he nods, too: he got lucky. Next time, that might not be the case. "Please don't gang up on me with my ma... I may not survive," he says, which is lighter in tone, but there's still that thoughtfulness; that quiet consideration of the situation that was, and the one that could have been.

"I promise, next time I'll be more cautious. I'm not... used to this, I guess. I wish I knew who it was who helped me. I'd like to be able to thank them. For saving me and for, I have to assume, helping to save those kids."

Ava laughs. "I promise nothing! If it'll help you learn your lesson, I'll fly her out. Don't test me." No, she wouldn't do that to him. Probably, anyway. "I think it's probably a good thing to not be used to, in all honesty. But not knowing how to be safe about it can get you killed. It's a damned if you do or don't situations. You went with your gut. Sometimes it leads us in the wrong direction."

Her eyes flicker to the door and then back. "Maybe whoever it was will come check on you at some point? They have to know you went to the hospital, right?"

Both of Mikaere's hands lift: a gesture of defeat and defence. "I've learned it, I've learned it. I promise. My gut... yeah. I reacted without thinking, without being strategic. It's an uncomfortable realisation. In this town... I'm going to assume it's something I need to be more ready for. If I'm staying. And... fuck. I can't go now, can I? Haggleford needs to be taken down. It's personal, now."

His gaze, too, flicks towards the door. "I hope so. I think I heard something about someone using their shirt to help stop the bleeding. I owe them a shirt."

"You have to be ready at the drop of a hat. It's kind of horrible. Trust me, we all know it's horrible." Ava looks sympathetic and he realizes that he isn't leaving town any time soon. "Remember what Ravn was saying about you not being able to leave? Hotel California and all. He wasn't kidding. Gray Harbor has its ways of drawing you in and keeping you."

"I'm sure the cops helped him with something. If he came here for injuries as well, then the hospital surely gave him a gown."

"I mean, I was planning to stay for a bit, anyway." For Reasons, though at least one of those reasons, ie the girl he's been on a date or two with, have yet to be mentioned. "For the summer. But... yeah, he really wasn't kidding. I've used my power more in the past month or so than I have in years. Maybe ever, really. It's unnerving."

A slow nod answers the rest. "They must have done," he agrees. "Maybe someone will know. I'll have to ask around. Or hopefully, someone will come in to check in on me. It feels ridiculous, having so little idea what actually went down. I guess I know the important thing, though, right? Fucking Haggleford."

"Fucking Haggleford." Ava agrees with that sentiment whole heartedly. Her eyes narrow again as she thinks. Teenagers? Really? "I can ask around and see who all came in related to your case. Doctor privilege might work out in the way if you'd like me to flex them a little for you? That was you can at least get a few more answers on what happened."

"Could you?" Mikaere lifts one hand to run through his hair, a gesture that's easily recognised as one of frustration and powerlessness. "I'd really like to know. And I imagine... now that you've done your magic on me," his fingers waggle, by way of demonstration, "they'll probably let me go in the next day or so, conveniently forgetting my condition when I arrived, and once I'm out of here... it may be the end of it. I may never know, and that'd be frustrating."

"Of course!" Ava pats his arm. That's all the healing I can manage today. I can always come back tomorrow and hit you again, and you'll probably be right as rain, ready to go home tomorrow, honestly. I'd hate for you to be stuck in here for too long." She flips his chart closed, since it's fairly useless now. He'll need a whole new battery of tests now that she's healed him.

"I'll work on getting that for you. You rest in the meantime, okay? That's still the best way to continue healing as fast as possible, even with the magic at work."

"Me too," is rueful, though mostly, Mikaere just seems appreciative. "Thanks, Ava. I'll rest up, I promise."

And no more heroics.

... at least for a day or two.