Lease this WebApp and get rid of the ads.
Holmes | Tennyson
Fractured Fairytales
Fri Feb 17, 2006 23:46

Giulio was old and frail. Not. The man's thin frame was wrought of steel not yet aged to the point of entropy. While she spoke hurriedly into the phone, once to her husband - words rushing out like a hurricane - and then to Sonnet's father, one of her oldest and dearest friends. How could she wound him with such terrible news? Especially since the shooting still lingered in everyone's mind.

Sonnet had very likely saved her life, when Lucy had been on the point of an attempted relationship severing. It served to show the young woman how low she could sink in the pursuit of revenge. And that is what it is; vengeance in kind against the man who had ... had ... what Devon had done could not begin to compare to what Sonnet might be suffering. Might be. Lucy hadn't believe that the possibility existed, now it was hard fact.

Ben's anguished expletives ringing in her ears, the singer finally shut off the cop's phone and turned around to regard her current protector. "It was very kind of you to wait here with me. If it would not be too much of an imposition, would you escort me back to my friend's side?" More than anything, Lucy wanted to take off at a dead run, convienently armed with an AK-47 and dispose of those horrible men herself. But there was something about Giulio that frightened her. Not that she felt in danger, but an instinct that told her he might be of that Other world. The one she'd been born into.

"Si." If he spoke English at all, he chose not to do so at this time, simply offered an arm for her benefit and waited for the brunette to gather herself together before starting off at a fast walk in the direction the tall, pony-tailed man had strode. In the direction she'd just come from, scared out of her mind. Where she'd ... she'd abandoned Sonnet. Lucy's stomach twisted the nearer they came, though a crowd of onlookers had already begun to gather, drawn by the sounds of violence and strife. It took some small time to ease their way through the throng, but eventually Lucy stepped back onto the gritty asphalt -- and stopped dead in her tracks.

A dozen police cars were already there, sirens so familiar to the native New Yorker that a collection of them barely registered as important. Already there was a detective ordering junior officers to tape off the area surrounding Sonnet with yellow crime-scene tape. Ducking underneath, she kept a firm grip on Giulio's arm, and tried to find a way through the maze of blue uniforms towards the center. Where ... where a gurney and emt team were already clustered around the prone body, carefully easing an oxygen mask around mouth and nose, body concealed underneath white sheets.


Caleb's voice cut across the cahaphony, his frame looming up from the left. Behind him, a bevy of officers were attempting to keep Devon in one place; the man's anguished scream tore a hole through her heart. OH god. What had she almost done? Lucy doubled over, vomiting up her dinner onto the ground; shoulders held firmly by both men until the trembling stopped. How humiliating! For a Medici to become publically sick ... this was a stain on her family. The brunette wanted to disappear right into the ground, and almost tried when her distress summoned a couple of officers to her aid.

In fact, they helped her right over to the second ambulance, Giulio still remaining at her side, though the woman couldn't understand why. Where was the other ma--. She caught sight of Vittorio draped over the trunk of a cruiser, bare-chested and unresisting. No,no, no. "There he is!" She rasped over her raw throat, pointing straight towards the Italian. "That is the man I asked for help from, Caleb. Why are they treating him ... like ... a ..." There was little need to complete her query, it had become fairly obvious why. Tossing off the blanket, she wavering through the milling cops until she'd reached Sonnet's rescuer and immediately through her arms around him, managing to miss the entire blip about diplomats.

"Thank you. Grazie! You saved my friend's life and I ... "

She just couldn't continue, and slumped against the poor fellow, sobbing into his chest. It was Caleb who gently pried her away so the nice law officials could remove the cuffs, none of them looking the wanna-be perp in the eyes. Though, a couple might have been heard to mumble stiff apologies.

"I don't even know your name," she finally managed.

"Vittorio Castelluccio."

The name had an immediate effect. If you ever have need of our Family's services, and I am not available, please contact a Signore Vittorio Castelluccio in Sicily. He will help you. Her grandfather had been most insistant that she memorize the name. And ... and now he was here. In America. Lucy spared a glance towards Caleb, and beyond him, to where the first ambulance had parked. Dark eyes swept back to Vittorio.

"Vittorio Castelluccio, it is an honor to meet you. I am Luciana Holmes, and this is my husband, Caleb." Deep breathe, and take the plunge before the ex-agent figures out what you are doing. "The least I can do is offer a drink and a formal thank you for coming to my aid." Lucy paused. "And your partner, of course." That obviously meant Giulio. Now, seriously folks, how could someone turn down an invitation so beautifully phrased - when every single word had been spoken in Italian?

"Doctor Carter. Paging Carter ..."

The intercom sliced through the dark haze of sweet smelling oxygen, prompting Sonnet towards a clearer awareness. She'd been swimming in a sea of hazy illusions for God knew how long, and rising towards the growing collection of sounds seemed more a nuisance than anything else at the moment. Eyelids valiantly attempted to lift, managing a few centimeters before intense light stabbed into sensitive irises and forced those lids to lower back down immediately.

"She's awake. Quick, give her another ten cc's of ...."

Sonnet couldn't hang onto the meaning of the words, something exquisitely light spreading throughout her frame. Nothing made sense, but that was the way of Hell, wasn't it. Or Heaven. She couldn't decide which she'd ended up in, mainly because the faint smell of urine and blood confused normally sharp senses. It's hot in here. Someone take off this blanket, okay? My legs feel so itchy. Things sound so clear mentally, but what issued verbally from a bruised throat was, "Nnn ...taak ... legggz..." before she slid back under the influence of the pain-killer.

It took an hour to figure out that Sonnet Tennyson was going to spend a long while in operating room three; her injuries were not so trifle as three puny bullet wounds. No, she'd suffered a concusion and multiple bruises along her jaw - one of her assailants had come very close to unhinging the joint completely. They were also worried about the possibility of internal bleeding - the CATSCAN machine was currently in use.

Sonnet's mother was the first to arrive in the ER waiting room, accompanied by Michael. His expression was haggard; Devon might have assumed the man's appearance at the airport was unfriendly - this side of the actor was decidedly uglier. Once Hugh and Ben arrived, all three men spent the rest of the night pacing back and forth in front of the nurses station, or sprinting out of the hospital on a food run. Apparently, Officer Tennyson's family intended to remain at the hospital until word came out on her condition.

Michael had been all for kicking Devon out, the two warily circling one another like wolves, but Isabel had insisted that her daughter's partner be counted as family. It was his shoulder she leaned against for support; across from them the trio of Hugh, Ben and Michael stood sentry in the wee hours of the morning.

And, at five o'clock in the morning, their vigil was finally rewarded. A doctor emerged from the OR, wearily pulling away a bloodied pair of latex gloves. "Sonnet is going to recover," he said immediately. That much he could do for them. "It will take some time ... don't expect her out of Intensive Care until the holidays are over. First of all, she had a fractured fourth rib on the left side . . ."

  • An InterludeHolmes | Castelluccio, Fri Feb 17 18:41
    Devon felt like a complete ass. It was… way too close to Christmas for comfort, and here he was without a gift for her ! Calling himself all sorts of colorful and interesting phrases, he had been... more
    • Fractured Fairytales — Holmes | Tennyson, Fri Feb 17 23:46
      • Tales of OldCastelluccio | Holmes, Sat Feb 18 10:36
        “Jesus Christ. A fukkin’ diplomat.” Vittorio smiled, knowing that the men would unhand him in a moment or two. If he were a more spiteful man with this side of the law, he could have toyed with the... more
        • Moments of SilenceDevon | Vittorio, Sat Feb 18 21:41
          Devon felt worn… And tired. Seated behind the driving wheel in his car, he stared through the windshield at his precinct, not wanting to step foot inside. He couldn’t deal with the looks again. Of... more
          • Questions.Michael Pierson, Mon Feb 20 11:51
            His neck hurt. The sort of pain normally associated with sleeping upside down in a VW Bug; except that Michael had caught bits of sleep here and there by stretching out across a couple of chairs in... more
            • Answers.Vittorio Castelluccio, Mon Feb 20 17:24
              Ahem. Vittorio did not wish to tear his gaze away from Sonnet’s features, knowing whoever was standing in the doorway was likely of her family. What had happened to the grand scheme where he slipped... more
              • End of an EraBennett | James, Tue Feb 21 15:44
                “Next! Bennett Holmes.” Oh God. He thought his heart was going to hammer right out of his chest! How the hell had it become D-Day so quickly? Never mind nearly an entire year of preparation in... more
                • Beginning of the End of the BeginningCast of Dozens, Tue Feb 21 19:29
                  I didn't ask for your help! Jay slid down in the first-class seat, wondering when she'd become such a harpy. About the time she'd realized that motherhood was no long this vague state somewhere off... more
                  • Male BravadoBennett | Vittorio, Tue Feb 21 22:51
                    Done, done, done! Bennett refused to do a little happy jig once he was off stage, instead opting to shrug back into his suit jacket. A few of his peers offered congratulations, one even wide-eyed... more
                    • Surprise?Devon | Caleb, Tue Feb 21 23:39
                      God, he really was tired . Devon glanced from Sonnet’s prone form, to Michael seated across the way. The younger man had been casting him dirty glances throughout the morning, and then after... more
Click here to receive daily updates