Seeing Red

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Rose really thought she was safer having it with her? God, she was such an idiot. But how was she supposed to know he would be there? There was no way. Her eyes fell to the ground as she ran, her ribs aching and tearing everytime she stepped on her right foot. Thank god kicking the s**t out of her was all that happened, she thought spitefully.

Rosaline was making her way down from the district ran by the Ramoné family. While they weren't exactly on good terms with her uncle they did indeed owe her a favor or two for some work she did a while back. Barnabas wasn't exactly a fan of working with the Blacks, Spaniards, or Asians, but Rosaline grew up with under the same roof with a lot of them and sort of became a bit of an unofficial ambassador for her uncle. It wasn't very often that she got involved in any of his dealings but when it came to inner mingling with other gangs she was usually present as a 'front man', if anything.

She wanted to know where she could find Nicola, and thank her stars, Andre knew right where he was at and was willing to tell her at no cost of a favor as long as she sent him packing. Andre tended to be a bit of a connoisseur of information for other gangs. Not necessarily a rat, but a man who made a living selling information, valued and important information that he was certain would never fall into the wrong hands. So it only went without saying that when Marco Nicola went into his business and demanded certain information on the Reds that Andre was not willing to provide he was a bit upset and tore his place of work apart. Andre wanted him 6 feet ever since.

Also free of charge, Andre told Rosaline that word was already getting around about what happened at the orphanage. That meant it was only a matter of time before Connor caught word of what she had done. Thankfully, she was under the guise of 'Grace the nobody', which meant her true identity wouldn't be revealed just yet.

Starting down the street she turned sharply to the left and ran until she came to a house at the end of the road. It wasn't large or really anything special, but when she saw Marco passing through the window, she knew how it looked wasn't going to matter in 10 minutes.

Rosaline readied her guns as she crept around the back, making sure she was fully loaded. Before jimmying the door open, she silently prayed and asked that at the very least, she could make up for the wrong she'd done Connor by burning that book, and burning down this house with that sick son of a b***h inside.

Rosaline open the door carefully looking around every single inch of the tiled floor. Andre cautioned that Marco was a paranoid lunatic and had a tendency to put some burglar traps around his home. She had heard that he hadn't been the same since he got back from the war, he had become more violent, more paranoid, more afraid for his life. In any other circumstance she might've actually felt sorry for him, but now that he has gone and dragged her kids into it any chance of mercy was gone.

Rosaline did almost catch a tripwire in the living room, She wasn't sure exactly what it was attached to but she sure as hell didn't plan on finding out. When she saw the matches over the fireplace mantel she quickly gathered an idea in the back of her mind and grabbed the matchbox and started upstairs without a word. She successfully avoided stepping in the middle of the stairs or walking anywhere near the center of the hallway, l lowering any chance of the floorboards creaking under her weight. From the moment she stepped inside the house she could hear his heavy footsteps pacing and one of the upstairs rooms. Following the sounds of his footsteps closely, Rosaline found the door to an office, listening to Nicola cursing and ranting on about how he couldn't figure out what her shorthand read. Rose sneered half smiling as she cocked back the hammer of Connor's revolver and reached for the handle of the door.

Before she could even begin to turn the handle a loud thunder is sound broke through the door and nailed her in the shoulder. Thankfully she was only grazed but Rosaline still nearly cursed out loud as she rolled to the side of the door. The searing hot pain made her shoulder twitch and throb in pain. She hissed under a hinged breath as Marco's footsteps barreled towards her direction. For once his paranoia hadn't gotten the best of him, she thought. Good news for him but bad for her.

Before he could spin around and shoot her in the face (most likely), Rosaline leaned back on to her elbows and mule kicked Marco in the kneecap with a shattering 'pop' breaking through the room. He screamed falling back into the office as she hurried inside behind him. Before he could get up she wound up her boot and kicked him square in the jaw sending his head upwards and onto the floor with a thud. Still holding his gun tightly he pointed and aimed with his eyes closed bearly, missing her twice. She slammed her boot down on his hand and kicked him again on the side of his face. Marco cursed, his freehand punching the side of her kneecap and nearly taking her balance out from under her. Doing her best to avoid any further berating, she tumbled backwards as he jumped to his feet. Marco, clearly beating her to standing, grabbed Rosaline by the throat and threw her as hard as he could into the wall behind her. She hit it with a crunch, class from hanging picture frames falling as she bounced forward. Marco took two steps to meet with her, his hands gripping her and thrashing her repeatedly as her fist balled up and connected with the flurry of blood and messy black hair that was Marco Nikola.

He retaliated, almost knocking her unconscious with one of his hits that she counted as a miracle. Her foot came up and dug into his gut as she leaned on the wall and pushed with all her might, sending him sliding across the floor. Rose doubled over, trying to catch her breath.

Marco looked to his left and rolled over grabbing his gun, Rosaline ran from point blank range and around him to his desk where the book was in view, swiping it up, she threw it into her shirt and drew her next gun and fired at him. Marco rolled onto his knees and behind a freestanding bookshelf with a loud grunt.

"I gave you every chance to do the right thing, Rosaline. You think that Red boy gives a s**t about you? About anyone?"

"I guess you'll never find out." she said smirking softly, resisting the urge to cup her shoulder with her hand.

"You kill me and Barnabas rots in prison!" he screamed. She heard the desperation in his voice and almost howled with laughter. A smile fell over her face like she couldn't care less as Rosaline quickly got on top of his desk and leapt onto the bookshelf, toppling it over onto his husky frame. Her landing was terrible and resulted in twisting her ankle when she hit the bookshelf and knocked over a lamp nearby. Without looking around, she immediately began to open fire once more, taking the leather bound book and matchbox into her hands and setting the damn thing on fire. She didn't actually hear the man screaming until the flames reached the books toppled on top of him. She watch the flames rise intensely from the oil lamp and backed away quickly. Marco howled in agony shuffling under the heavy wood and paper as his arms reached out, swiping at the injured woman. Rosaline's expression remained still and cold as she lit another match walking out of the room.

And another as she wandered down the hall. One when she passed the living room sofa, and one more as she hurried out the back as fast as her exhausted and broken frame could take her.

It wouldn't be long before the fire started to rage higher and higher as the ediface was engulfed in a fury of flames. Wrestling didn't even look back, she just march forward with what strength she had until she reached Connor's pub. The closer she got the more her heart began to throb into her throat. She had to explain what she had done, what she was going to do, and why he was involved. At this point, killing Nicola wasn't even to pay back the life debt that she owed him. Her life was the debt that she owed him. Her breath caught in her throat, almost too embarrassed to cry, but now too afraid to face him.

Holding her shoulder the entire way, digging into the wound seemed to be all keeping her awake during the walk until the fire bells started raging through the air. Hopefully it didn't spread.

Rosaline barely made it down the stairs of the pub when her weight finally gave way to her damaged leg. Kneeling on the floor at the base of the stairs, she sat quietly with her thoughts before calling out to Connor with a shaking, terrified voice. Even after all of that with Marco, she was certain this was the moment should die. She was so sure when she told him everything, he was going to go into a rage and shoot her point blank and she knew her life was his to do with as he saw fit.

With drawing his revolver, Rosaline held it by the barrel pointed towards her, just as he had done when giving it to her and waited with a heavy, broken frame pushing her lower into the ground.  

[Unbreakable Justice]

The day ended up being extremely uneventful for Conner or Jack.

Since Jack had the day off, he was spending part of the day baby sitting the rowdy gang leader to make sure that he was being as gentle on his body as he ought to be. He worried that the man would push too hard in recoil to the nightmare he knew he had last night - even as much as Conner had denied it's occurrence.

More tasks came from having to babysit him though. It also meant that he had to watch out for any rambunctious activity among the Reds. Without a leader to coral them and their eagerness, it was nearly impossible to entirely avoid a fight breaking out. However it was more possible with him working as the foreman. He was a well known fighter just like his best friend and was known to have crushed a few skulls under the loyalty of the Reds and Blues. It was something that followed him around wherever he went - except when he was around his kids. For now though, it served well as it made sure that everyone was doing what they should and nothing what they shouldn't.

This included Conner himself as he sat staring over ledgers almost the entire day. Constantly he was going through notes to make sure that everything lined up or that their tail was covered no mater what. Everything could be paid for and there wasn't a single thing they had to worry about. That was impossible though as the only thoughts going through his mind at that point was worry. Even as he worked with something as concrete as numbers, his memories kept finding their ways to stain the pages he was staring at, turning into numbers with other meanings.

Just as it became too unbearable though, another person came in. It prompted him a groggy look up from the books to whoever was stumbling down the stairs. At first his tired brain didn't think anything as he saw trousers, he through it was just another drunk.

Jack did not, especially after hearing her weak cries. "Grace?"

It clicked in the exhausted leader's brain and he was on his feet as she started to drop at the bottom of the stairs. He moved faster than his side wanted and ended up dropping to his own knees as he clutched at his ribcage. Quickly he grabbed the gun and put it back into the holster that he wore still though it carried nothing. "Don't worry about the ******** gun you dumb woman," he hissed as he got his legs under him to pick her up after realizing she had been shot. "Open the backroom and get me something strong and cheep! John, the med kit from under the bar!"

Growling he stood up though he felt his own stitches be pulled at again and threaten to tear as his fighting muscles flexed under all the strain. However, he carried the battered woman in his clothes to the back room as Jack opened up the doorway to get to the private room that was more used for storage than meetings as it was originally intended. Now it would be his operating room as he put Grace down on the table.

"Don't be dying on me just as you're starting to get me to like you," he said with a small crooked smile as he ran his thumb against her cheek. However, as he looked up, his eyes narrowed. "John, alcohol and bandages please!"

Shortly after the flustered lanky man hurried into the room to drop everything on the wooden bench behind the table then hurried back out. The reasoning being the fact that he knew Conner well enough to stay out of the way. John not having a strong stomach for blood also helped urge the man to hurry out of the way.

Conner tossed off his trench coat off to the side and rolled up his sleeves as he came over to her side. Without asking permission, he unbuttoned the top as needed and pushed the shirt off her shoulder while pulling it up to allow her to remain covered. Quietly he dug through his bag to pull out a thick cloth to press down onto the wound while getting out sutures with the other. "If you wanted us to have matching scars, there are easier ways. Tattoos tend to be a little more pleasurable in sight and acquiring," he spoke to her, his voice calm and gentle. When he pulled the cloth back, he felt under his shoulder to realize that it was stuck in the bone due to the angle. In response he grabbed her hand and put it on his bicep. "Squeeze as hard as you need to, just stay down."

He soon had the tweezers out and was digging into the hole in her shoulder, his face emotionless as he worked the raw, damaged flesh. Shortly after, he pulled the bullet free only to reintroduce pain seconds later in the form of dousing it in liquor. Again he put back the cloth for while he thread the needle to close the wound. This time the needle was going to be hardly comparable to what he had done prior, so he gave no warning as he worked back together her flesh with professional speed and agility.

Within ten minutes he was finished.

"Hey, Grace, open your eyes for me," he told her as he leaned over her with one of his bloodied hands against her cheek. "Come on, I know you're still there. You're a tough woman and you'll be okay. I just need you to open your eyes for me one time. You can do it."  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Heaving one thin breath after another, Rosaline began to mutter to him some barely coherent string of words as her face buried into his shoulder. She begged for him to forgive her as he took the gun and tucked it into his holster, confused by the actions that followed. The next thing she knew, she was being carried and cared for by him despite her weak protest. She didn't deserve it, she wanted him to just kill her for what she had done and get it over with. She weakly lifted her hands to push him, but his scent was drowning the smell of ash and smoke and choked out the overwhelming fear in her chest. Pressing her lips into a hard line, Rosaline managed to resist crying just a moment longer, leaning into his chest until he laid her down.

Connor was seemingly focused on her wounds more so than her half-conscious confession as he brushed her cheek and spoke softly to her before taking her hand and placing it on his arm. There didn't seem to be any amount of mental preparation in the world for the ungodly amount of pain she felt soon after. Her voice shot from her throat with a pained wail followed by a string of short breathed curses as he retracted the bullet from the bone. She clinched her teeth, with her breath tightening in her lungs until she felt the slug pop out from the shattered bone. The pain bolted through her with a breath that dropped her straight into unconsciousness.

When she stirred, she met the palm of his hand on her bruised cheek with a soft groan. Her eyes struggled to open, but she managed to look at him after a few tries with a sad and unwanting expression.

"Connor...I killed Marco." she muttered. "He was obsessed with...finding you and he...and he was blackmailing me to help him. Promised to free my uncle if I did. When I called it off, he went after the kids...I had to stop him before he found out about Jack. I...I couldn't ruin your life in exchange for the man that ruined mine..."

"The feds are planning something. They wanted to know where you're getting your resources. Andre believes that they might start poisoning everyone's supplies like they did in New York...I'm so sorry. I...just wanted to do something half decent for once. I'm sorry." she said feeling her mouth falter as her eyes finally started streaming the tears that had been waiting behind her eyes. Just apologizing to him was so frightening and unpredictable. She had no idea what he was going to do, only that Connor would make the punishment fit the crime. She wasn't trustworthy, she lied to him from the start, and her actions could have ripped a good man from his family if anything else. And all she could say was how horribly sorry she was for protecting the family that abandoned her at the cost of Connor's.  

[Unbreakable Justice]

In hearing her words, confusion filled Conner before any other emotion for it took a moment to realize who Marco was again. That was a name he had only heard occasionally and only had the pleasure of meeting once - something neither of them faired well in. Next came jealousy for she was able to put him down and he hadn't been able to. Finally concern filled him as she seemed to ramble on and on about ruining lives for Jack and himself because of it. Anger came from knowing she had been blackmailed into doing something against her will for people who clearly didn't take care of her. If she turned on them in an instant for him, he knew who was the better being. He had always thought how your followers were treated was a sign of what kind of man you were. Clearly her uncle was not the kind of man that Conner ever wanted to meet without killing after.

He stood in silence once she fell quiet. His mind battled against logic and emotions as he tried to decide what to do. Even as exhausted as he was, he could tell she was awaiting an answer - no, a punishment. In his mind he ought to since she had been lying to him.

However, she also saved Jack and his own life. Marco wasn't going to harm them and any information that she had on them was destroyed. The Reds were safe because of her.

"You've really got your priorities messed up, you know that right?" he asked her as he pushed a strand of hair out of her face. He smiled gently at her as he stroked her sooty cheek with his thumb, smudging the clear spots from her tears. "You might have been under your uncle and you might have been acting for Marco at one point, but you aren't anymore. You destroyed your evidence against us and you've allowed a family to keep their father. In the end you saved my men's lives as well. There's no reason I should be threatening you or punishing you, not when you have taken a bullet for us - for me."

He pulled up a chair next to the table he had used for operation. Taking one of her hands in his, he carefully held it while he kept stroking her cheek to help calm her down. He shook his head again as he thought himself insane for what he was doing, but enough of this felt right that he kissed her battered knuckles that matched his own.

"Consider yourself a Red and under our protection. I just would like to know if Grace is your actual name so it's correct on our roster," he asked with a smile on his face before pushing a strand of loose hair back out of her face.  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

For a long moment she simply stared at him wondering what the ploy she was of falling into. She really wanted to believe the sense of security she felt but Rose had some idea of what he did to traitors and couldn't help but to think that this would also be her fate.

It wasn't until he kissed her knuckles that Rosaline's eyes softened. Tracing over his features, Rosaline searched for and immediately found that look of sincerity in Connor that almost pained her. She smiled, then broke into a restrained laugh as she shook her head gently. Rose closed her fingers around his hand as the a ache constricted over her ribs and hips that pushed an exhausted breath passed her lips.

"Don't you mean for when I ******** up? I mean, did just set half the city on fire so I guess it couldn't be much worse right now." she asked forcing a playful grin through the pain. She hesitated, feeling her own name fumbling over her tongue before a breath of certainty forced it out. "Its Rose... Rosaline Cassidy, less ya fancy me a Grace better, but Connor."

Her hand drew his closer to her as her lips faintly pressed into a line. "After this, I don't think you'll want me this close to the pub or anything you don't want punched with holes." she grimaced turning to her side a little more comfortably. "My uncle was really counting on things working out with Marco. If there's anyone left in the city that will still bleed for him, they'll be wherever I go. I think I need to...disappear for a while. I don't think I can even aim like this right now, let alone jump into a fight so I won't add to the stress on Jack to keep us both safe."  

[Unbreakable Justice]

"Rose it is," he muttered after hearing her speak her actually name. As much as he hated beingn decieved, he enjoyed the new name much better. It was far more honest to her personality thus far in what she exposed. Plus Rose was a better name to wear under a gang calld "Red".

He let her take his hand as he looked down at them before back up at her face. The warning she gave was quite upsetting and he didn't like it a bit. The ocncept of pushing away a brandd new person that he was finally able to trust, was not something he was fond of at all. If he had his way she would be adding to his side, picking fights with gangs to expand his control, and maybe eventually be at his side for reasons that was far less buisness involved. Instead of any of that though, she insisted on fleeing his grip. Fleeing his embrace.

"Well, despite what Mama Jack insists, I'm a grown man. I can make the choice to stand by you in your battles of survival through all of this. You've done a lot for us by just taking out Marco and I'm not going to let you go to war by yourself - not when you have allies. Not when you have someone who's a damn good shot and a group of men who adore you. Why would we not stand by you? I refuse to go anywhere."  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

Rosaline scoffed with an exasperated tone towards Connor that was coupled with a tired smile. Regardless of aching terribly, Rose tugged his hand until her other arm held him in a gentle embrace. Her breath grew soft as she buried her cheek into his shoulder, laughing again at their plight. "There's no arguing with you, is there?" she muttered faintly. Wincing slightly, Rosaline felt the pain was returning in waves that were now hindering her vison. Before her head fell back onto the make shift operating table, she pressed her lips just below his ear lobe and replied, "Let's protect your city then, Boss boy."


The fire rising into a simple pillar if smoke was visible from across the water. Many of the prisoners wondered what was happening but from his window, Barnabas Cassidy inhaled his cigar with vis inner cynic hoping the whole damn city burned to the ground.

"You see that boss? The whole town is going to hell in a handbasket without you." Meek, his eyes and ears behind these walls muttered as he approached the cell. "Just got word from the crow one of the Reds took on Marco."

"That was quick. Ain't even any ashes yet." he answered grimly as he turned away from the barred window. His thumb flicked the ashes to the floor just as he turned on his feet and quietly paced himself to the scrawny, almost skeletal man hanging out by the cell door. "A red on Marco eh? Don't know if that cheap b*****d McLeod got cast iron balls or if he's dumber than a steward." he blew a puff of smoke. For a moment his thoughts mainly trails around the fact that Marco going missing wouldn't do him very much good. Noting also the word missing was being used in this conversation. If he were dead, well, it would go without saying that he would be right pissed. If there was no possibility of trading in himself for McLeod they could all vest believe there would be bigger problems than a burning building. He cleared the taste on his tongue with a fresh breath. "So what about m' niece, then? Any word on her or my boys?"

"Oh, I got someone with an eye on her, boss. Last I heard though, she was getting real cozy with the reds but wasn't giving up anything to Marco until she heard from you."

"Damn b***h...its not how things work." he hissed.
"Do you think she knows that McLeod's the reason you're in here boss?"

"No. Rosaline is as loyal as a dog. If she knew, there'd be no McLeod to turn in."

Sitting in a finely crafted wooden chair, Barnabas pondered on that thought for a while, drawing another long drag as he did so. Say what he will about the girl, she did stick around when his own sons didn't. Didn't mean s**t if he was stuck in here though.

"Tell you what." he finally spoke through a ring of Cuban scented haze. "Give Marco a few days to turn up. If he's a no show, have that spider of yours pass a message to Rosaline for me."

The rat faced shadow in the door watched the smoke rise and fall both inside and outside his cell as he gave the Irishman a slow, thoughtful nod. He knew she wouldn't like who would be giving her the message, but as far as he knew, she was still staying low key and wouldn't do anything to rat herself out.  

[Unbreakable Justice]

Jack handled Rose's well being after she fell asleep. He had whisked the girl away back to Conner's home to rest out of the way. It was on equal agreements that it was handled this way since she could be safe, taken care of, and it was well fortified. Though his home was little more than the average brick one, it was at the center of the city, a place that was surrounded by loyal men and citizens.

The leader on the other hand had gone out to battle the gates of hell in the form of the spreading fire. Head on he went against the fires as he joined the Fire Departments. He spent the evening running into burning buildings, running between the well, ocean, and buildings to put things out. Occasionally he was stopped because his side opened up or it was impossible to tell the difference between him and the men of color who were also helping him from all the soot that built up on his Irish skin. For hours he still battled against this until the last of the fires and people were handled. It was the morning by the time they finished and he went stumbling home.

He pushed the door open to reveal himself completely painted black from head to toe and several other gang members behind him, dirty but not nearly as much. Conner was utterly exhausted and just wished for a hot bath and sleep, but there were other things on the agenda.

"We must assume that Marco wasn't the only one pinning for us. Everyone in here knows cops all have some alliance with a gang for some reason or another. If Marco is dead, someone else is going to be filling up his spot and it'll probably be another gang coming for my head. That is what we've gotta plan for," Conner said as he grabbed a dark cloth to wipe his face clean. He rolled out a map and put it on his kitchen table to figure out where they could be coming in to attack. "If you can figure out where they'll be coming from and when, we'll be set."

Conner let out a shaky breath and sunk down in his chair as he held his pounding head. He massaged his temple as he smeared soot back onto his face. "I just have to think up a strategy before they come..."

"How about you get some food in your stomach and you get in bed after I fix your stitches. The rest of you boys go home to your families and mothers. If we're going to survive any assault, we need to be well rested," Jack said as he came from the back of the room from watching over the sleeping Rosalie. "Everyone, out."

"Jack, I'll be fine," Conner assured him as he stood but nearly fell the minute he rose.

"You're tired and you've been bleeding everywhere, all night. I hardly believe that's fine," he scolded as he helped him back into a chair and out of his button up shirt. He immediately go to work on the stitches in his side, cutting them out and redoing them with expertise from Conner teaching him. Within a few minutes, his leader and friend was treated and teetering at the table between states of awake and asleep. "Let's get you in bed and into something not soot covered. I won't trouble you with a bath until morning."

"Not tired."

Jack sighed and grabbed him by his arm and pulled him up onto his feet to stumble along side him. He lead him back to his own bedroom where he helped lay him down onto his back. At this point he realized that his friend was already out cold and didn't care about anything else. He was truly exhausted by all the running around he did. In a strange way, it kept reminding him that Conner was in fact just like the rest of the gang, even if he liked to act immortal. The lad was still human. "See you tomorrow, lad. Sleep well so we can raise hell."  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

It felt like there were a dozen things plaguing Rosaline's thoughts, taking away from what should have been a peaceful sleep. Having gave way to unconsciousness, the lure from dead sleep to teetering on the verge of awareness was a rocking sailboat of uncertainty. She did want the rest, but there was so much to do, she told herself. She needed to go check on the kids. Eventually, she had to go home and get that place turned right side up. And what about the fire she started? Did it snuff out on its own? What was she to expect when she speaks to Connor next? Eventually all of the stress resulted in nightmares that jolted her awake.

Rosaline groaned, rolling over in unfamiliar sheets. It woke her up a little more knowing that this was not her bed in addition to the cringe worthy pain that shot from her shoulder and into her chest like an arrow as anxiety struck. Blinking her eyes to adjust to the dark room around her, she inhaled sharply, sucking in the pain through pressed teeth and letting it out in a jagged sigh. This was the strange kind of awake where someone can feel every nerve come to life, but Rosaline's case in this matter would seem like a tattered mess of aches and knots from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. Her hands gently cradled her frame as she returned to her back with a huff of air. She wasn't gonna lie to herself, Marco and his men really beat her a**. It seemed like every moment since her fight at the orphanage was just pure adrenaline and panic had driven her to this point . It seemed as though every hit had finally caught up soft her now that she had the time to slow down and assess the damage. Rosaline inhaled softly, trying her best to not make such a fuss but it seemed that even inhaling deeply was a complication.

This whole ******** situation was a complication.

Taking this time to collect her scattered thoughts, Rosaline knew she needed to consider what Connor had said before. She was officially a Red now and under his protection,according to him. But somewhere in the center of her thoughts Rose knew she may have to protect him instead. Marco may be gone, but when word gets out that she is flying a different banner her uncle will have the black coats on her like vultures on a corpse and it was looking like Connor wasn't going to let her out of his sight anytime soon. Especially after he finds out what happened to her apartment. It most likely wasn't the safest place to be right now anyway. That was the first place anyone would look. Hopefully.

Worry began to plague her every thought as she planned for all possible scenarios pertaining to any chance someone might attack. She couldn't even cover a window let alone a whole room. Soon after that passing thought worry became dread as she focused more and more on that single fact. She was useless.

Rosaline tried to sit up, cringing sharply as she did so as the searing pain from a bullet wound (and most likely an entire set of ribs that were fractured at best) sent her falling back onto the bed with a string if curses shooting from her mouth. Beads of sweat rolled down her face just as fast as tears while the panic stricken woman struggled to stand. Her ability to form a rational thought was torn to shreds and buried beneath a sea of doubts and worries. The deeper into her panic she dove, the more convinced she was that whomever or whatever was coming next, it knew where to look and they would be found. Holding a hand to her tightly bandaged waist, Rosaline stumbled from the bed, barely managing two steps before collapsing onto her knees. Her thoughts swarmed her as logic fled and panic told her running away was the only thing that could keep anyone alive.  

[Unbreakable Justice]

Only for about two hours Conner had actually slept despite Jack's pleas for him to stay in bed for even longer. Instead he was up again from the guest room, pealing soot covered sheets off the bed and turned to his desk to work on plans against the enemy. He couldn't stay in bed all day while threats were just moments away from him, especially not with his boys already spread so thin. The way this was looking, he was going to have to take this on himself for he couldn't have his best friend lose his life and those girls their father and Cassandra a husband. That wouldn't happen. He would rather be killed than let that happen. After all, who would miss such a man?

"Conner, what the hell are you doing out of bed?"

The Irish man looked over his shoulder at Jack as he stepped through the door way, glaring at the mountain of a man for interupting his thoughts. "Work."

Jack grumbled under his breath. "If you're going to not sleep, then you need to get your a** in the tub because you are disgusting. You need a bath. You've already soiled a perfectly good set of white sheets, the least you could do is spare more bedding and enjoy some soap."

"Don't have time."

That was the end of that arguement, but that wasn't the end of the fight. Jack crossed the room quickly before wrapping his arms around the stuborn man. Conner immediately yelled in both pain and anger as he was practically drug out of the guest room and down the way to bathroom. He shut the door with his feet while trying to wrestle the gang leader out of his clothes and into the tub, feeling like he was dealing with one of his daughters when they were younger. "Can you at least take your pants off yourself? Jesus, do I have to do everything?!" he shouted as he pushed the other further into the room. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off him, seeing the blood soaked bandage benieth his shirt. "You tore it!"

Conner snarled. "If you would be more gentle, it wouldn't tear, now would it?" He undid his pants and stepped out of them and kicked them off to the side before pealing back the bandages. He turned his back and started up the tub when Jack grabbed him again.

"Get your socks off."

"I don't have to, jackass. I can do this with them on."

"You can't just get in there without taking your socks off, it's gross."

"
Jack finally stepped out and headed back to Rosaline, wanting to know how she was doing now that he finally got Conner to bathe. He headed to her room, knocking softly on the door before pushing it open with his shoulder, not looking in until she gave the OK. "How are you feeling Gr- Sorry, Rosaline. How's your side? You took a pretty bad beating and I've had my hands full with the child of a man to come see you." After a few seconds though, Jack looked in to see the woman collapsed onto her knees. Concern filled him as he rushed to her side and dropped down to help lift her onto her feet again, careful of her injuries but still moving in haste. With her back in bed, he carefully rubbed her arm as he leaned over her, trying to comfort her. "You two are made for each other I swear... You shouldn't be trying to get out of bed so early, you aren't ready for it. Just give yourself a bit of rest before you're up and about, walking around. I wouldn't do you any good to be more injured than you already are. It's actually quite foolish."  

[xxangelsofchaosxx]

I didn't have my smile taken away, I had it ripped out over and over again until it was decided that my heart was easier to hit...

"No boyo. Don't tell such tales." Rose muttered softly. Her frame sank into the sheets as though the weight of Connor's words were striking her as they sat on her throat. Hearing Jack even jokingly say they were built for one another would have been an insult to whatever creator was out there. As much as it somewhat saddened her to say, but there was no way in hell.

"Don't wish such a thing on the poor boy, Jack. You see a man like that and you match him with one of those girls with soft hands and soft hearts. Ya know? Picture it everytime--those pretty young lasses with the short hair and long pearls who ain't ever held a gun. They'd settle him down, save maybe 30 years on him."

At first, she chuckled softly as the words left her, phasing the sense of regret for saying such things as they lingered on her lips. She was still very lucid, half from poor sleep, half from her body working to keep her from becoming a pitiful writhing mess; she could have very well passed for drunk in the right context with how she swirled from one waking moment to the next.

As the laughter faded, the pain in her limbs stirred slightly, drawing in a deep breath, reminding her of all the places several men tried to cave in her ribs the day before. Her mouth folded into sharp lines as she closed her eyes.

"I had my first kill when I was thirteen." she said softly. Not as though she were giving a confession, but spoke in such a way that implied the point at the end of this story would tie what she said previously all together. "When I see thirteen year old girls at the orphanage, I imagine that was how I must'a looked then. Still practically a baby with longer fingers. And you think, 'Nah. Couldn't hurt a fly.' The first time you kill a man, you come to a crossroad. You learn something about yourself. You don't learn know what you're capable of or how bad of a person you can be or any of that. You learn that you can either sleep at night after, or you can't. I don't have that tenderness that keeps me wondering if I did the right thing. I was built for things that broke every man I've trained to kill since then. Connor's made me experience a guilt like that, and I don't like it."

She turned her face from Jack, slowly looking up into the ceiling as she pictured her lips sealing shut after saying all of that. She spoke too much, gave too much away. It was one of those situations where she could spend hours trying to convince someone how little she cared, but the more she explained the more it became evident of the contrary. Rosaline sighed gently, trying not to agitate her injuries.

"Anyway. Boss boy's gone and ripped his stitching at least three times now without being stripped down a little more aggressively than he's used to. I thank ya for the hand, but I'm not at risk of bleedin out."