The pain had receded a little. He was carding his fingers through my hair and talking softly. It was nice. Soothing. I'm not usually very receptive to being soothed, but under the circumstances... I'd allow it. The intimacy of this and his earlier gesture was only just sinking in, but then we'd shared a greater intimacy the first time we met. I'd thrown up walls as hard and harsh as I could ever since, but the very effort it had taken undermined them, needing constant renewal. Without the insults and aggravation we tended to slide naturally into alliance. Now the walls seemed to be entirely gone and I wondered if it left him as off balance as it did me.
Could be; talking to fill the silence wasn't something Marcone usually did.
"-considering giving them hazard pay, I didn't quite believe your medical examiner about it actually being a very small and discolored cougar-" caught my attention.
"Wait, go back, what did you say?" Possibly I should be less peremptory to my new lord and master. Screw it. He knew what I was like when he bought me.
He raised an eyebrow, but answered mildly. "We found your cat. Well, that behemoth you call a dog found your cat, but some of my men drove and got the ungrateful animal into a carrier. They're on their way back now."
Oh.
That explained where Mouse was, anyway. The rest of what he said didn't make any sense, but of course Mouse would want to find Mister as soon as possible. He'd mentioned Butters, who'd been here earlier with the other doctors to offer his expert knowledge of my unique medical needs, but had gladly passed off actual treatment to the living-person specialists. It had taken hours.
It made sense that Marcone would have talked to him, and I could kind of see Butters launching into a Crime Lord/Baron of Chicago induced nervous ramble, which could easily have included Mister. That Marcone had sent goons out at God knows what time of night to find a missing cat was...unexpected. I'd consider the thought that this was actually a dream, but people don't do nice things for me in my dreams.
"I'll have him put in your sitting room, I don't want him jumping on you in your current condition." No, that would be very bad. The sitting room I'd barely seen at all, getting a hazy impression of more bookshelves and an expensive couch. It was about to get less expensive; Mister was probably really pissed off by now. Well, that was something.
"why..?" escaped before I could think better of it. What was he doing? Marcone was good at enlightened self-interest. My health and relative sanity were very much his concern: I was no good to him broken. But this? This wasn't...I didn't know what to do with this. Kindness wasn't part of the deal. I hadn't know it was a possibility.
I was grateful. I was achingly, pathetically grateful. For Mister on his way back to me, for Mouse treated respectfully, for the blanket pulled over me, for the soft light of the oil lamp. For the little girl asleep down the hall. I just didn't understand.
"He'll jostle your injuries." Okay, that clearly hadn't been the question I was asking. I opened my mouth to start an argument, and nearly had a heart attack when Hendricks cleared his throat from the doorway.
Apparently, this sensing people thing only applied to John.
Who looked over at Hendricks with a frown. He hadn't jumped, the bastard.
"That report you wanted is ready." Hendricks said impassively.
"Thank you, I'll be there in a moment." Hendricks didn't move. His gaze flickered to me for a instant, then went back to Marcone. They looked at each other for a second. "That will be all." He left. Marcone took his hand out of my hair, stood up and looked at me for a little while longer. I wished I had understood any of the conversation that had obviously just happened.
Re: AU to Changes FILL 4/?
Could be; talking to fill the silence wasn't something Marcone usually did.
"-considering giving them hazard pay, I didn't quite believe your medical examiner about it actually being a very small and discolored cougar-" caught my attention.
"Wait, go back, what did you say?" Possibly I should be less peremptory to my new lord and master. Screw it. He knew what I was like when he bought me.
He raised an eyebrow, but answered mildly. "We found your cat. Well, that behemoth you call a dog found your cat, but some of my men drove and got the ungrateful animal into a carrier. They're on their way back now."
Oh.
That explained where Mouse was, anyway. The rest of what he said didn't make any sense, but of course Mouse would want to find Mister as soon as possible. He'd mentioned Butters, who'd been here earlier with the other doctors to offer his expert knowledge of my unique medical needs, but had gladly passed off actual treatment to the living-person specialists. It had taken hours.
It made sense that Marcone would have talked to him, and I could kind of see Butters launching into a Crime Lord/Baron of Chicago induced nervous ramble, which could easily have included Mister. That Marcone had sent goons out at God knows what time of night to find a missing cat was...unexpected. I'd consider the thought that this was actually a dream, but people don't do nice things for me in my dreams.
"I'll have him put in your sitting room, I don't want him jumping on you in your current condition." No, that would be very bad. The sitting room I'd barely seen at all, getting a hazy impression of more bookshelves and an expensive couch. It was about to get less expensive; Mister was probably really pissed off by now. Well, that was something.
"why..?" escaped before I could think better of it. What was he doing? Marcone was good at enlightened self-interest. My health and relative sanity were very much his concern: I was no good to him broken. But this? This wasn't...I didn't know what to do with this. Kindness wasn't part of the deal. I hadn't know it was a possibility.
I was grateful. I was achingly, pathetically grateful. For Mister on his way back to me, for Mouse treated respectfully, for the blanket pulled over me, for the soft light of the oil lamp. For the little girl asleep down the hall. I just didn't understand.
"He'll jostle your injuries." Okay, that clearly hadn't been the question I was asking. I opened my mouth to start an argument, and nearly had a heart attack when Hendricks cleared his throat from the doorway.
Apparently, this sensing people thing only applied to John.
Who looked over at Hendricks with a frown. He hadn't jumped, the bastard.
"That report you wanted is ready." Hendricks said impassively.
"Thank you, I'll be there in a moment." Hendricks didn't move. His gaze flickered to me for a instant, then went back to Marcone. They looked at each other for a second. "That will be all." He left. Marcone took his hand out of my hair, stood up and looked at me for a little while longer. I wished I had understood any of the conversation that had obviously just happened.
"Try to sleep" he said, and left.