[Detroit!AU: the first to come was a fair maid]

[stilljustandrew]

Jonathan's vision was pretty well unmistakable. Gabriel's in danger, and doesn't know it -- or at least doesn't know the specifics.

That would be enough on its own, even if Andrew didn't more or less owe him his life.



Gabriel's nowhere to be seen at Milliways, and no one seems to have run into him in the past couple of days. Well, and that's normal enough; there's no reason he'd be here all the time, and plenty of reason to make himself scarce, all things considered. Maybe he's just back home.

Please just let this not be too late.

Andrew writes out a note at the bar giving Jonathan's vision in as much detail as he can, folds it carefully in quarters, and writes "The Trickster (G.)" on the outside.

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

"No, I, it's okay," he says, and now the tips of his ears are going red.

Even if she is just trying to be nice with that last line, it's still kind of discombobulating to get a compliment like that from a total stranger.

(If not entirely unpleasant.)

[mynamesnotmeg]

"Okay," she says, and smiles back. Meg eases closer, and slips her arm around his waist.

"Infirmary, here we come."

Of course, to get there from here, they'll have to pass between the staircase leading to the upper floors and the dog under the table.

[stilljustandrew]

He starts walking slowly, cautiously, trying to help her keep her balance. "You good?"

[mynamesnotmeg]

"I'm great," she assures him.

Meg flicks the fingers of her free hand behind her back in a quick sign, and the henchman by the front door begins to slowly drift from that position, moving through the crowd in such a way that they're between him and the stairs, and he's between them and escape.

As they draw near the stairs, the second dog gets to its feet. A low growl comes from under the table, and it steps into view between them and the lake door.

There's no sign of 'Rex' or his 'owner.'

[stilljustandrew]

"...Uh."

Andrew glances at the girl, abruptly unnerved.

"Is that the same d--"

In mid-word he looks back at it, and stops.



"That's not a dog."

[mynamesnotmeg]

Her eyes are wide with shock or maybe fear.

"Its face, what's wrong with its face--"

She shrinks closer to him.

[stilljustandrew]

Hellhound, he thinks; and abruptly, clear as day, he finds himself thinking of Tucker in what feels like the first time in years.

Slowly, carefully, he shifts sideways so that he's half in front of the girl.

"Can you walk on your own?" he asks, low and tight, without looking at her.

[mynamesnotmeg]

Calculation flashes through her mind and is reflected briefly on her face before she nods.

"I think so." Meg lets go of him and stands, favoring her 'injured' ankle.

"Where--?"

[stilljustandrew]

He doesn't see the expression on her face; his gaze is fixed on the hellhound, only briefly flicking around the room to see who else is here. No Security in sight, no one in the immediate vicinity; not a lot of options.

"Head for the stairs," he says out of the side of his mouth, "I'm gonna call for Security."

And draws a breath --

[mynamesnotmeg]

--only to be met with the slam of her elbow into his ribs. Hard.

Oh no you don't, Wells.

"It'll just attack if you do," she hisses, and indeed the hound is bristling now, glaring at them. "Come on, come with me, maybe we can hide in a room or something until it gets tired--"

[stilljustandrew]

"Bad idea," he mutters back. "If we run, it's faster than us, it'll -- look, trust me, try moving for the stairs very slowly and see if it stays focused on you, okay?"

And, raising his voice, he says directly to the hellhound: "Do you understand me?"

[mynamesnotmeg]

Its gaze swings to him and locks there. The hound gives no sign of comprehension other than a low growl, and takes a step toward them.

Meg is tugging frantically at his arm. "I can't run anyway, but I'm not leaving you here with that thing -- please!"

She flicks a sharp warning glance over his shoulder at the hovering henchman.

This could all go bad quickly if Wells causes a scene. They're ready to move fast, in public or not, but it'd be better to not have to take the risk.

[stilljustandrew]

Slowly, reluctantly, he lets her tug him a step backward.

"Okay," he says, very low. "My room. I've got supplies, we can maybe hold them off till backup arrives. If we can get there."

[mynamesnotmeg]

She barely manages not to roll her eyes.

Finally.

"Okay," Meg says, forcing a small quaver into her voice. "Okay. Whatever you say. Now can we please just go, get away from it, please?"

She pulls at his arm again, and takes another step back.

The hound watches, still growling, but makes no move to follow.

[stilljustandrew]

He moves with her, toward the stairs, step by slow step, not taking his eyes off the hound.

It's not chasing them. It's more ... like it's standing on guard.

What's it guarding? -- no. Time for that once they're away.

[mynamesnotmeg]

As they start to climb, the hound below turns its head so that it can continue to keep track of them with its baleful glare.

Meg glances over her shoulder as if to check her footing. Instead, her glance goes to the shadows at the top of the stairs, and she gives a small nod to the second henchman, standing half-hidden there with a dark cloth in his hands.

Be ready.

('Rex' stands waiting on the other side in the hallway, just out of sight.)

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew's eyes are fixed on the hound in turn.

"Okay," he says, low, about halfway up the steps. "It's not following us. We might be okay once we get to the hallway."

Beat.

"Uh, by the way." Half-smiling. "I'm Andrew."

[mynamesnotmeg]

"Oh, good--"

A few more steps, and then she smiles too, bright and sharp.

"Hi, Andrew. Nice to see you again."

Beat.

"You can call me Meg."

[stilljustandrew]

Again --?



Andrew twists to stare at her, eyes widening.

[mynamesnotmeg]

Her smile is edged with malicious triumph.

"Gotcha."

She snaps her fingers, and as the second henchman and the hound in the bar below rush the stairs, the first one leaps forward, clearly meaning to throw the cloth -- now revealed to be some sort of sack or blanket-- over his head.

[stilljustandrew]

Stairs blocked corridor blocked no room to get past her oh frith no --

He moves a half-second too late, trying to body-block the henchman off-balance enough to avoid the cloth, hoping to get past him and run.

[mynamesnotmeg]

He's partly successful.

The henchman stumbles, and the cloth misses Andrew's head entirely, going around his arms and upper body as his assailant grapples at the his torso instead.

Snarling, 'Rex' charges from his guard position in the corridor to block the potential escape route, and the other henchman takes the rest of the stairs at a flat run, throwing himself forward to grab at Andrew's legs and lift his weight from the floor.

"Get him to the room." Meg's tone is cold and frighteningly intent. "Hold him there. Don't let him touch anything."

[stilljustandrew]

the room, what room, what are they --

He thrashes, heaving against the cloth binding his arms, the hard grip on his legs, and draws in breath to scream for help.

[mynamesnotmeg]

"Oh, I don't think so. We'll have none of that."

This time it isn't her elbow that makes contact. It's her fist, as she drives a short sharp punch into his gut.

A curt word sends Rex dashing ahead to keep the hallway in front of them clear, while the second hound brings up the rear, defending their flank. Meg keeps pace beside the two men carrying Andrew as they move into a section of the corridor that's in the process of being rebuilt.

There's an open doorway up ahead on the right. A second look reveals that it's open because the door that once hung there appears to have been blasted from its hinges, and is now leaning against the opposite wall.

[stilljustandrew]

The punch drives the air from his lungs in a single agonized rush, and he jacknifes in his captors' grip, folding around the pain.

It's probably why he doesn't realize where they're going until they're already hauling him through the splintered doorway, with its lintel twisted out of true.