Urban Dead: The Price of the Oath

[Caz]

"You're right," she said. "And you're also right about not talking much... But what you do say is important."

[Cynical Cat]

"No practice. The Ghoul King of Malton was alone. Didn't need to talk. And my brain's still healing." He tapped his skull. "Not all there."

[Dark Silver]

On the second level of the mall, Silver had managed to find a dark corner, a storefront that was long prior stripped and laid bare, from the looks of it, it was one of those fashional clothing stores, the ones who sold leather clothing, collars with spikes on them, studded bracelets and such.

He shook his head, as he approached it, thankful that this part of the Mall had been oddly vacant, as if no one had decided to settle in it yet. It would grant him the peace he wanted.

He collapsed behind the counter as a fit of coughing overtook him, long minutes passed as his chest exploded with the pain, and his lungs labored. His hand was coated in a film of red when he was done.

I dont want to die.... he thought, as he looked at his own blood. Not here..... I'm sorry Jamie..... I'm sorry Chad.... but I don't want to die just yet..... They still need me....

He began shucking the clothing he had appropriated, tossing them aside, his body felt as if it was burning up, dizzy and congested. But he knew it was the blood. He shouldn't have been moving around yet, not as much as he did today, he had aggrivated whatever was torn inside.

I'm sorry I lied to you Petro.... he began to say in his mind, almost as if in apology, one which he was sure wouldn't be heard, The soul is willing... but the flesh is weak... the heart was broken... forgive me brother.. In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti

Naked as a babe, his eyes drifted shut, the prayer flowing through his mind:

And Shepherds we shall be
For thee, my Lord, for thee.
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand
Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.
So we shall flow a river forth to Thee
And teeming with souls shall it ever be.
In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti

[Caz]

"Still smarter than me," she said with another pout. She had a habit of doing that.

"You can come talk to me whenever you want. I talk a lot and I don't like being alone."

[Cynical Cat]

"Don't talk much." He shrugged. "That might change. New world for me."

[Caz]

"Well you don't have to say anything," she said. "I just like having someone here. Someone other than me who cares whether I live through this or not."

Gwen cracked a wry smile.

"Even if it's just to get some armour and a pair of mittens."

[Cynical Cat]

"Too hard to handle weapons with mittens. Gloves."

[Caz]

"But mittens are cute!" Gwen mock-whined.

[Cynical Cat]

He blinks. "Cats are cute. Gloves are functional"

[Caz]

"We have cats in the mall!" Gwen said excitedly. "Dr. Mike and Sherry brought me one. Her name's May and she's tiny and black... You can come see her whenever you like."

[Cynical Cat]

"That would be pleasant. Where is she?"

[Caz]

She pointed to one of the curtained-off stalls.

"There's a sick woman in there named Ellen who asked if she could see her. She should be in a little box on one of the chairs."

The woman couldn't help but smile as she talked about the cat.

"You can go get her if you'd like."

[Cynical Cat]

"I will," he replied. He stood and walked towards the curtained off area. He slowed as he neared the chairs. In a towel lined box a small form lay, twisted and contorted. It could easily fit into one of Reaper's hands. It kicked and twisted.

Wendigo knelt beside it. It opened on eye a crack, looked at him, and then closed her eye. Her sides moved up and down as she breathed. Wendigo gently scooped her up and brought her back.

[Caz]

Just seeing the cat brought a smile to Gwen's lips. The tiny kitten opened its eyes blearily at the two of them and mewled a bit, then closed its eyes and nuzzled against Reaper's thumb.

Gwen scratched the kitten beneath her chin, which caused a while new bout of purring and nuzzling.

[Pcm979]

Mike woke slowly and fuzzily, taking his time. The warmth under the blankets and the feeling of Sherry lying on top of him made him feel like all was right with the world, or at least the little corner they'd carved out for themselves.

Sherry was utterly limp and exhausted against him, her skin rough due to the scrapes and the cuts from where she'd fallen through the floor. The most serious injuries systained by anyone on the team were either Marley's burns or Petro's usual getting bashed all to hell.

She shifted, pressed her body to his, mumbled something that contained the word "cold."

He reached up and dragged the blanket further over them, burrowing deeper into the hammock and drawing her with him. He had body heat to spare and was only too happy to share it.

"Love you, baby," she whispered, sliding her hands up his sides until they found a comfortable resting place. He'd notice that she seemed to be weighing less lately, probably working herself a bit too hard.

They'd all been pushing themselves, with the journey to the NecroTech building and the Horde attack. Mike hoped that things would get better now NT was dropping supplies. He settled his hands in the small of her back and sighed contentedly. "You're the best thing ever." He replied semi-coherently.

She opened one eye, the blue one, just a tiny crescent and watched him.

"You, too," she whispered, kissing his neck. "Love you..."

"I love you too." He said, drawing her up and kissing her on the temple.

"I'm the luckiest bastard in the world." He said with drowsy happiness, expanding on his theme. They hadn't really had time to just enjoy each other's company since before the expedition; Even their lovemaking sessions had been hurried, always scurrying from one duty to another.

"Feelssogood t'just be here," she slurred, breath slow and even against his chest. "No pressure, no r'spons'bility, no having t'know what t'do..." She yawned again. It was ine thing to create a plan and execute it, one thing to follow orders... But she'd been in charge out there. That had been scary.

"I know what y'mean." He said, nuzzling her hair and inhaling deeply. As a doctor, the hardest part had been learning how to let go, admit that the most you could do was make someone comfortable. It never got easier.

Like what Mike had done with Colin. Thinking of the boy made Sherry's heart heavy, and she just rested her head on his chest without replying to him. "Baby," she said quietly, "Steve died last night."

Mike sighed, the exhalation seeming to deflate him. He'd known Steve wouldn't make it, of course, but some idiot part of him had been hoping there'd be some miracle or something. Anything.

"Damn." He said finally. "He was the one who seemed like he'd always be there, you know?"

"I was the last person he ever talked to," she said in a high, quiet voice. Eerily reminiscent of a child.

He cuddled her quietly, his breathing the loudest thing under the blanket. "He didn't die in pain." Mike said feebly. There really wasn't anything to say.

"The guy that was with Petro... Says they're getting smarter. They're gonna be using guns soon," she said quietly.

"We'll manage." He said softly. As soon as they got back into contact with NT, he had some ideas. Vague ideas. They'd have to capture some of the Shamblers, do tests on them, see if there was any way to... But now wasn't the time.

She sighed and let out a bit of a whimper, then spoke: "Should've been me... Not Steve... Petro loved him like a brother..."

"He loves you like a daughter." Mike reminded her.

She let out a frustrated sigh, her hands curling into fists for a moment, then went slack. "Just... Not Steve," she said. "God damn it."

"I know, baby." He whispered, rocking her slightly. "I wish it hadn't been him, if someone had to die. But then you start wondering who it should've been, and that gets you nowhere." He continued. "I'm just thanking my lucky stars it wasn't you. Or Petro."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me," she whispered, "I promise. I'm going to die when I'm old and grey and holding your hand."

"That's the spirit." He said softly and kissed her on the other temple, lingering there a while.

She sighed and nuzzled against him, kissed him again. "I hope Petro's taking it well," she whispered, looking despondent for a moment.

He chuckled slightly. "I'm sure Mel will keep his spirits up." He said, not necessarily implying anything on their behalf. They were both so damn tired, after all.

"Jared was right," Sherry said with a bit of a sad sigh. "He's worried as hell about her. I only saw them a bit since he we came back, but he acts different around her now."

Ah, hell. Was everything a sore subject? "You mean because she's pregnant?" He asked.

"Yeah," she said with a chuckle.

He looked suddenly startled. "You know, I just said that with a straight face. Petro settling down and having kids." He grinned. "Who'd've thought, hey?"

"Tell me about it," she said with a laugh. "Then again..." She pulled herself up and touched her nose to his, kissing him. "Who'd have thought... Us?"

"We certainly didn't." He agreed, nuzzling her again.

"But everything's different now," she said quietly. As though on queue, when her voice stopped, a tiny weight landed on her back, crawling over the hammock and their limbs until the kitten could rest against Mike's face. And like lemmings into the sea, the others all followed suit. However, one was missing.

"I wonder how May's doing." Mike mused, dislodging a tiny foot from his ear.

"I brought her to see Gwen and Ellen in the infirmary," she said. "She's the least squirmy of any of 'em."

"In hindsight, that would've been a good reason to keep her here." Mike commented with a wink as June burrowed into his hair.

Sherry grinned. "Yeah, but it wouldn't be proper to have a little black terror chasing Dorian and Phillip 'round the infirmary day in and day out."

"We must have things done in the Proper, British Manner." Mike agreed with a careful head bob and an overly serious expression as the sea of kittens found niches, pockets and hairdos to embed themselves in.

Sherry just smirked, pressed an off-mark kiss to his lips that ended up more on the side of his mouth.

"Is Mel doing all right?" she asked, not sure if Mike had been the doctor that had tended to her when she'd been bitten.

"Last I heard." He said, shifting to the side so she was further on him and wrapping his arms around her. "Things are calm, for the moment."

"She got bit last night," the girl said absently. "On the neck... Lost a lot of blood."

"Last I heard she was patching Petro up, so she must be better." He said. "Which reminds me." He ran his hands lightly over her scarred and bruised arms. "If you need any TLC, I'm right here." He said with a grin.

"That's good," Sherry said, resting against him lazily. "Nah... I'm all right. Got some nasty splinters in some of 'em, but there's fuck-all we can do about that."

She proceeded to tell him how she'd been yanked through the rotting floor of the textile factory while attempting to save Marcus, who Petro shot to put out of his misery.

"Never a dull moment, hey?" He mused, doing his best to forget about Marcus. "But you're here." He repeated. "It's funny, I can't remember how I managed without you."

Sherry sighed and extended her thumb and forefinger, forming her hand into a gun, then pressed it to the side of her head. "You saw how I managed without you," she said glumly.

He gently took the gun-hand and laced its fingers with his own. "That's behind us now." He said gently, kissing her on the cheek. "We are together, even if nobody would've thought it." He chuckled.

"I know," she whispered. "But... I don't think I ever apologised for that, did I?" she kissed the back of his hand as though to answer her own question. "I just saw how horrified you looked when you heard I might have been infected with what Silver had..."

"Don't apologise." He countered softly, placing his index finger on her lips. "It's over. Water under the bridge."

"I can't help it," Sherry murmured. "I... Shouldn't have looked at you before I did it..." She closed her eyes. "They talk about stuff a person sees that haunts them... That was one of those." She sighed briefly. "When those two girls started cutting me up in the jail, when I woke up and found Jaycee had me tied to a goddamn chair... The look on Petro's face when he found out Ned had hurt Melanie... It's fucking haunting."

"I know what you mean." He whispered, holding her close. "Dave's face being ripped off, the first guy we brought back turning inside-out. You, being half-dragged up the steps." He trailed off and kissed her again. "But I don't get that so much. When you're around."

"Yeah, when I first came back," she whispered, "looked like somebody punched you in the gut."

"But the way I see it is: Here you are, here I am," He gave her a little squeeze, "and all that crap suddenly isn't insurmountable anymore."

"It never was, baby," she whispered against his cheek. "We just tricked ourselves into thinking it was."

"Yeah." He kissed her on the cheek again and paused. "And there's no one I'd rather... Surmount it with than you." He said rather awkwardly.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Just... God, I'm stupid for worrying about this, but... Don't forget me when we're all out of here?"

He barked an astonished laugh. "Forget you? Baby, I'll never do that. Never."

"It's stories like you and me that they write the sad songs about," she said a bit morosely.

"They already wrote that sad song." He pointed out. "This is the sequel with the happy ending."

"I hope so," she whispered. "We damn well both deserve it by now."

"We'll make it work." He said firmly. "And the only story about me 'n you will be a bloody autobiography. We'll write it when we're rich and idle."

She kissed him on the cheek and sighed. "I'm going to be holding a memorial service today, for the men killed... I doubt Petro would have wanted to do it, so I took the initiative." She sighed. "It's not right, what we've been doing. No respect for the good people that have helped us other than hacking their bodies up and pinning them in a trench."

"We've been too busy." He said. "I'll be there. Top hat and tails." He grinned weakly at the minor joke.

She smiled and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. "You... Are the best thing that ever happened to me."

He nuzzled her hair and squeezed her again. "I love you." He said simply. "More than anything."

She threaded her fingers through his hair and kissed him long, softly pressing her mouth against his as she probed between his lips with her tongue. Were it not for their grogginess and the task she knew awaited her, the movements would have been incredibly arousing... But for now, she was content to simply lay there and tend to his mouth with hers.

Words seemed extraneous as he put a hand on the back of her neck and toyed with the little hairs there, feeling about as relaxed as he'd been in months.

Her hair was almost entirely back to its cocoa black-brown colour, giving the girl an exotic look that hadn't really been apparent before.

Pushing the kiss further, Sherry purred a bit into his mouth as she slid her tongue across the inside of his lower lip.

The purr was answered from atop his head, where a kitten was dropping off to sleep. Several others chimed in too from various parts of the hammock, the little furballs settling in for a nap.

Mike chuckled into the kiss, lazily licking her lips. Life, at this exact moment, was good.

[Cynical Cat]

Wendigo stroked May's cheeks gently with his thumb. The kitten rubbed against them. His face broke out into a smile.

[Caz]

Gwendolyn smiled, grinning at the kitten as she purred contentedly, nuzzling against Reaper's hand. She leaned against his shoulder and eyed the cat, whose eyes were turned up in crescents.

"Well aren't you precious," she said, scratching the kitten's cheek.

[Cynical Cat]

Gwendolyn smiled, grinning at the kitten as she purred contentedly, nuzzling against Reaper's hand. She leaned against his shoulder and eyed the cat, whose eyes were turned up in crescents."Well aren't you precious," she said, scratching the kitten's cheek.

"Like me," Wendigo joked, "she's not judgemental as long as she's fed." He rubbed her cheek a little harder.

[Caz]

Gwen took the comforter from her bed and wrapped it around she and Reaper's shoulders, leaning against him and watching the cat as it writhed in the ghoul's hand, tiny furred feet twitching with pleasure.

"Yeah," she agreed, then looked up at him. "That's three," she said.

[Cynical Cat]

Reaper leaned closer to Gwen. He did not sleep, but he still rested. It would be pleasant to rest here. He gently stroked the kitten. Very pleasant indeed.

[Caz]

"Where're you staying?" Gwen asked, her mouth muffled by his sweater. The kitten purred loudly near her ear, curling against Reaper's hand with a wide-mouthed yawn.

"'Cause... Ah... You know... You could stay here," she suggested quietly.

[Cynical Cat]

"Hadn't decided on a place. Staying here would be nice," he replied.

[Caz]

"Feels good to have someone here," she said, thoughtfully stroking the scruffy fur on the nape of the kitten's neck.

[Cynical Cat]

"Hmmm," he said thoughtfuly. "Could be worse."

[Caz]

"It could always be worse," she said with a smirk. "We could both still be out there, cold and alone, you with a broken leg and me with maggots in the hole in my side.

The cat mewled inquisitively as Gwen leaned over, putting her nose to May's. Her large amber eyes opened, but again, only part-way.

"You," the woman addressed the cat, "are damnably cute."

May blinked a few times before burrowing into the hollow between Reaper's thumb and index finger, squirming until she found another comfortable position.