bang bang

Chaos was hitting hard and fast. It was something that Eily hadn't seen coming--though really she hadn't seen most of the insanity in the city coming, even if she had instigated it. And it wasn't that she was necessarily shying back from it, it was just--a lot. And not what she might have expected.

And she also hadn't expected to be at this stupid gallery opening and the whole place got jumped. People rushed in, she took a fist to the face and down she went. She heard gunshots, and the guy who'd hit her dropped as well. She didn't pay attention, however, to that, her breeding was kicking in. Hard.

Eily played the society girl to the T, but she was an O'Malley at heart. And that meant that when a rumble started, when someone raised their hand to her, they were getting a hard kick to the family jewels and a face full of knuckles. And the next masked guy who came anywhere near her got exactly that, instead of some screaming girl.

Mickey had been enjoying himself, even if he felt out of place. There were a few familiar faces from the neighborhood that he'd chatted with and after Elle's help he actually looked like he belonged rather than how he felt. All in all the night could have been worse.

He'd spent a good chunk of the evening trying to find time to talk with Shoshannah, but without any luck yet. Not that he was too worried about it. That wasn't the only reason he was here. When the door to the gallery crashed open he was watching her chat someone else up, but the noise was loud enough to pull his attention away and over his shoulder. Without any real warning other than the door being pushed open, masked men were flooding in.

Mickey wasn't a fast person but as one guy came at him, the glass in Mickey's hand was smashed against his attacker's head. The smash was followed up with a punch in the guy's kidney before Mickey threw him aside. The awkward walking man was not one that should be challenged in a fight and in that moment he was determined to make sure these masked attackers knew it.

He saw the man go down, heard shots, but unlike others he didn’t run. He wasn’t a runner, but he was fast enough to get to the blond who’d just kicked some guy where it counted. As he stumbled away from her he met Mickey’s fist which put him on the floor out cold. “Nice hit,” he told the girl with a half smirk, the kind of grin that only a trouble maker could get in a fight. People had been shot, there was blood on his shoes, but just getting to throw a punch of two helped Mickey slip into that rough-housing boyish demeanor.

Even if she shouldn't be even engaging in a freaking fight right now, she should be playing the part of the damsel in distress, she couldn't help it when the guy commented to her. She grinned at him, a fierce sort of expression, and she for just a second was exactly who she was. "Not so bad yourself." she told him, ducking as another attacker came closer and she awarded that with a sharp left hook towards the guy's eye--something that wasn't going to be a fun ride considering she had rings on that hand.

The grin was cute, and familiar, which through Mickey off long enough to catch the glance of a punch to his cheek, the kind that would give him another black eye to match the first. Of course, he just used the momentum to swing back his own hit, hook to the body and upper cut to the jaw. That sent the bastard staggering back a little, which gave Mickey a chance to catch Eily’s attacker with an elbow as he reacted from her hit.

Eily did her part to help Mickey too, something that she sort of just naturally fell into. Patrick had taught her how to fight, and it wasn't like he'd been a stranger to a group brawl. It was sort of the way things went, you messed with one O'Malley you messed with any of them within earshot. So as he hit hers, she took the opportunity to kick out the knee of the guy Mickey'd been fighting, to fully put him down on the ground. She wasn't even a little above fighting dirty.

As the guy fell near him, Mickey looked up at her surprised. With the effort of fighting though she looked less like the put together high society woman and more like the girl that looked familiar. “Eily?” he asked in a break in the action.

After taking a punch to the cheek, something that kinda came out of nowhere as far as she was concerned, she dropped back a second and threw another kick towards the guy's balls. She looked back at Mickey though, hearing her name. And then it clicked as well. "Mickey!" she said, recognizing him. They hadn't been buddies at school or anything, but she knew the guy. And he looked kinda cute in a fight. She grinned at him again.

The grin from his old classmate distracted him enough, so that when his next attacker came at him with a short club the guy actually did some damage. It wasn’t until the blood dripped in his eyes though that he realized the blow to the head broke skin. Annoyed, he countered harder, throwing punches like any good boxer would, then prying the club loose from his attacker’s hands. “I can hold them off if you want to make a dash for it,” he suggested to Eily, nodding towards the door.

Eily in that time took a hit to the back of the shoulder, and she dropped to one knee as another blow started to come at her head from a club like the one Mickey had taken. She brought her arm up to block, and took the hit there, definitely letting out a cry at that. "Fucking--" she swore, trying to get her bearings. "Think it's a moot point, Mickey." she ground out, ducking again and then she went to punch the guy in the nuts since she was already down there.

Mickey reached for the guy as she punched him in the baby maker, using the distraction to toss him aside, where he landed with a dull thud against the ground, groaning. Reaching up to wipe the blood from his eyes he looked over at her. “I had to offer,” he pointed out. He wasn’t going to just let her stand here in a fight without offering to get her out of it.

She smiled up at him and tried to get back to her feet, though her arm was very definitely hurting. Shit. She looked around, and could see people starting to flood the exits, and there was a body on the floor right by them, and she could see now that he'd been shot. She nearly got bowled over by just normal people trying to get the hell out of there and reached out to grab onto Mickey's shoulder to keep herself upright. "Incoming." she said, seeing a guy starting to come up on them from his left.

Without thinking much about it Mickey reached for her protectively, something any big brother would do. As the new attacker approached he shifted so he was in front of Eily, stolen club up and ready block any initial attack. The first swing glanced off the club and Mickey was able to counter it with an uppercut to the guy’s gut, followed by swinging his own club towards the man’s head. “Thanks,” he said to Eily when he could, flashing a smile over his shoulder at her.

"You're kinda cute right now." she told him, a very random observation, but she'd had a few drinkies at the party before the attack hit, and maybe it had just been a little too long since she'd seen a guy she really kinda felt an attraction to. Go figure it was in the middle of a fight, and he had blood starting to run down his face. Maybe that just said something about her. She liked her guys a little more rough and tumble than quaffed and straight edged. She grabbed hold of his belt to keep herself steady as she yanked one of her heels off, and she swung it stiletto-first at the next attacker that came towards them. It caught the guy in the cheek and he headed towards the door, but then it looked a bit like everyone was. Like the place was clearing out and maybe the bad guys were thinking now was the time to bug out.

There was a dull awareness that Mickey probably shouldn’t be as flattered by the compliment or the fact that she had a hold of his belt right now, but there was no denying it. He wasn’t the ‘cute’ type, not with his limp. “Thanks again,” he said watching her take out the guy with her shoe. “You too,” he said, in a moment of confidence he normally didn’t have with women.

Eily laughed just a little, a little bit of a fierce edge to her smirk as she outright threw the shoe at the guy as he was running out the door. "Eh, you probably just say that to all the girls you're in brawls with." she said, looking around again but the place looked like it was clearing out for the most part now. Some people were obviously still there, in various states of injury...or death, like the shot guy here. But whatever the attackers had wanted to do was done, or they'd decided to fuck off before they lost anyone else.

“Well...no. Not always,” he said with a grin. Not sure if he’d been in that many brawls but he’d been in a few bar fights, and sometimes there were women in the middle of them. “You okay?” he asked, though his eyes jumped away from her, looking around the room for Elle and Shoshannah. As things slowed he realized that they were still there somewhere, and they could be hurt.

"...I dunno. Maybe." she said (not realizing she’d dropped her usual ‘society’ tones), not sure about her arm. It was singing merry fucking murder at the moment, and she could already see colors rising up on her skin. She let go of his belt and kicked her other heel off. "...you need to sit down a sec." she told him, eyeing the blood on his face, and she reached up to try and get a look at the wound.

He was caught up in looking for the other two women, glancing around and out of habit he waved her off when she reached for him. “M’fine,” he said distractedly. His head certainly wasn’t the only thing bleeding. In fact, his hand was bleeding from where he’d smashed his glass on someone’s head. Though his arm could have been falling off and he still would have been slow to take help from anyone.

Eily snorted. "Whatever, tough guy." She said, and she grabbed the nearest chair. She dragged it the short way over then literally rammed it into the back of his legs so the natural progression of events would be he sat down on the damn chair. "Sit." she said, totally after the face and she tried to get a look again. "You don't want to mess around with head wounds." she said, absently swiping at her nose and lip--her nose was bleeding a little still from the hit she'd taken in the face before, and bruises were already rising to the surface on her cheek.

There was no way to avoid the awkward way he fell into the chair and once he was there he was half glaring, though not really upset. “I promise I’m fine. I need to find Elle,” he said before looking up at her, spotting her own bit of damage. “Like you can talk,” he murmured reaching into his coat pocket for a worn out handkerchief and handing it to her for her nose, completely ignoring that it might be put to better use on his forehead.

"You need to stop bleeding from the skull." Eily told him. If he was bleeding from the skull, and she wouldn't know til she saw it. She started trying to find the wound again, taking the handkerchief though she did immediately hold it to his head, putting pressure on the wound when she found it. "You need ice." she said, realizing that putting pressure on her arm of any description was just a bad, bad idea, and so she let that one drop, only using her good one. "Don't go messing with a hit to the head, people ignore that and they go to bed then don't wake up." she said, knowing that for a fact. "Had an uncle go out that way." she admitted, so he didn't think she was making that up off the top of her head or anything.

“It can wait,” Mickey said though he knew she was serious about what she said, that was easy to see in her eyes. Reaching up he put his hand over hers, applying his own pressure to the wound there. “You need to do something about your arm,” he pointed out, noting the way she pulled it away.

"Pretty sure I'm going to need more than ice." she said. "I'll get it looked at when the cops get here." she said. Someone would call an ambulance. She looked him over again though, and smirked, again thinking that he definitely was pretty cute all roughed up. She'd never really thought of him as such, but maybe it was a heat of the moment thing, and maybe she just had more O'Malley in her than she liked to let on. O'Malleys weren't delicate little flowers, even if she tried to play that part as much as possible.

Using his free hand he reached for her arm gingerly, studying the bruises already popping up there. “Hopefully you won’t need it set,” he murmured, glancing up at her again in time to see that little smirk on her lips. “What?” he asked, sounding a little skeptical of her look.

Eily laughed, looking away a second. "Nothing." she said, shaking her head at herself. "Just a personal observation." she looked at her arm again as well, letting him take it and she saw an egg rising up there too. It was possible she'd broke the damn thing. Or...there were two bones in the lower arm, maybe just the one. “You’re definitely not bad, you know.” she said. “With the fight--you did well. And if anyone asks? I was cowering behind you like a little girl, screaming the whole time.”

“Personal observation of what?” Mickey asked, turning her arm a little. “Move your fingers,” he ordered gently, watching her hand as he waited. “I’m more than meets the eye,” he said, finding it interesting that he’d heard that more than once today. “And sure, you were crying and I saved you. I’m alright with that. Though in my neighborhood they wouldn’t frown as much at a girl who can hold her own. Maybe a little, but they’d also be afraid you’d wail on them.”

Frowning a little, she did as he told her, but pain shot up her arm even if she could move her fingers. She hissed, and immediately stopped the motion. Now that the adrenaline from the fight was wearing down, she was a little more aware of the owies she'd picked up. "You look good right now." she told him, again finding herself a little ridiculous at the moment, but no one seemed to be paying even slight attention to them just now, so she didn't think it was too compromising to say. Plus, if anyone called her on it, she was claiming she just was complimenting her knight in shining armor. "Well, in my case, they should be afraid." she added, though she lowered her voice on that.

That she could move them was a good sign, but that it hurt that much was a bad one. Pulling off his jacket he tugged at his tie, loosening it off as well. “Hurt here?’ he asked, testing her wrist. If she was alright there he’d use his tie to sling her arm. If that was too much, they’d have an awkward moment where he stripped down to his undershirt to use his shirt. The compliment had him smirking a little, looking up at her with a softer smile. “Thanks,” he said, not sure what else to say. “And don’t worry, in my neighborhood they will be. The pretty blond with the high heels that double as a weapon.”

Testing her wrist a little it was the same as her fingers. She could move it, but it shot pain up the rest of her arm. "Farther up." she said. "I don't think my wrist is hurt." she told him, watching what he was doing and she looked to see if it looked like he was still bleeding from the head or if it had clotted by now. She watched his eyes for a second, and laughed just a little. "I'm fairly certain me and the word 'pretty' don't fit into the same sentence right now." she said. What with the bloody nose and she could feel the bruises coming.

Standing he hook her wrist into the tie, pulling it up and over her head, then leaned behind her to tie it into a small sling. “It’s not perfect but it’ll keep you from hurting it worse until later.” His head wasn’t bleeding as much now, and though he felt a little woozy he was mostly alright. “You are pretty, don’t doubt that, you always have been. Now you just look a little more like the type of women I spend my time with.” He was mostly teasing about his taste in women, though he wasn’t much of a dater anyway. Work tended to get in the way and when he was a glaring poster child for bad genes he didn’t tend to attract much attention from the fairer sex.

She hissed in pain when he was putting the makeshift sling on, but once her arm was more effectively immobilized, it felt slightly better. "Thank you." she said, smiling at him again. "Keep pressure on your head." she told him, reaching up to feel at the cut once more, though she was gentle about it. She'd just patched up her brothers enough times. "And thank you. I think I'm going to be completely out of high social circles til I'm better. No one wants to look at a girl who's hurt."

“Pressure on my head,” he agreed, reaching up to replace the handkerchief. “If you get bored, come visit the lower ones. We wouldn’t judge.” He wasn’t quite sure what had him suggesting it, they’d never run in the same crowd before, but it felt right to offer it to her. “I’m gonna go find Elle,” he said, grabbing his jacket and nodding away. “Sit and wait for someone to come look at your arm.”

What he didn't know was Eily was a lower one herself these days. With her family gone, it was just her and Patrick, and they didn't have the money for anything upscale. They were in a tiny shithole apartment, struggling to get by. "Maybe I will." she said. Then she did sit down. "Get your head looked at when the medics get here." she told him. "And thanks, again." she added, and with a smile, she winked at him. "Nice seeing you."

“You should,” Mickey said with a grin. “Nice seeing you too. Shoulda probably run into you an hour ago when I wasn’t bleeding.” There was a little bit of humor there as he smiled once more before heading off to find his friends.

Naw, I like the blood. Eily thought. Or really it wasn’t the blood, it was just the ‘fresh from a fight’ look she was apparently a fan of. Yeah, there was more O’Malley in her than she liked to own up to.

Marian hadn't been paying attention. She'd been looking at one of Angelo's paintings, taking in the stark contrasts, just lost in it while she let her mind wander. Someone had told her once that daydreams were worth indulging in and though she tried hard not to, tonight she let herself slip into the painting, imagining moments caught up in it.

When the attackers came in she only half noticed the commotion, but the shot, the gunshot, that rang out had her turning her head towards it, shocked that it sounded so close, and then there were more. Two more. She was frozen in her space eyes, searching until she spotted him, the boy with the gun. He wasn't' really a boy anymore though, but Marian never stopped thinking of her brother as they were when they were children, before he left for the war. "Roy!" she shouted, not recognizing her own voice, or realizing that the sound of crashing glass was the one she'd been holding and dropped. Staring at her brother with a look of shock and horror, she didn't see the man who grabbed her, shoving her hard enough to the side that she stumbled, knees falling into the broken glass at her feet.

Shoshannah was little. She wasn't exactly the fighting kind and so when everything happened, she had little to no time to really react. Things were fine one minute and then the next there were screams and shots and sounds of shooting. And what killed her was that it was all happening here, all happening now, and all happening to the people that were gathered in this place. In her place.

Now was not the time to think of why this was happening, why an attack was happening at her art gallery of all places, but it was certainly a thought in her mind. Or it had been until she saw a masked man in front of her. She didn't realize she'd been just sort of standing there in the midst of the chaos, watching it all unfold. The idea of being scared for herself wasn't exactly in Shannah's mind, at least not until she saw the club in his hands.

He looked menacing and somehow her natural instinct was to back into whatever corner she could get at, just to back away in general, but again she was trying to make this make sense. Why was this happening? What was the purpose? It was just a simple, tame art showing, what had they done to deserve this? At some point, the instinct to run kicked in and Shoshannah tried to bolt, but she didn't get far. The masked man, a good deal taller than her, simply slipped his foot out and caught her leg, sending her flying hard to the ground.

When she collided, the impact on her shoulder jarred something in her. Of course it hurt, but only for a few seconds before the world blacked itself out and Shannah was just there, lying on her stomach on the floor. It was lucky her condition had kicked in when it had because she didn't feel the series of swift kicks to her side the man gave her just before his accomplices called him out of the gallery and he went with them. He'd gotten what he wanted at least; he'd been the one to fell the Jew they'd come here for, so that was something at least. Shoshannah, meanwhile, was still there on the ground, out cold to any passerby.

Mickey had to wonder if it was his head of if he’d just spent half a brawl flirting with Eily O’Malley. This wasn’t the place to think about it, not with Elle and Shoshannah not readily visible, but seriously, she’d just told him he looked good, bloody and bruised. It was a kind of flattering that he hadn’t been ready for. He didn’t look good, or at least not to him. The cut on his forehead had slowed somewhat, but not after leaving a trail of dried blood down his cheek. His hand was still bleeding lightly from where he’d broken his glass over someone’s head, and now his shirt and suit pants were splattered with it. He’d have to replace it. Moving as quickly as he could, which wasn’t comfortable, he tried to wade through the survivors, trying to fin Elle or Shoshannah.

It was Shoshannah he spotted first, white dress he’d been admiring all night sprawled across the floor and stained. In a rare moment of speed, Mickey was at her side, kneeling on the floor and trying to turn her face towards him. He didn’t want to move her until he knew she was okay, though thankfully she seemed to be breathing. “Shannah,” he said, trying to wake her. Had she been knocked out?

It took Shoshannah longer this time to wake up. Her condition had kicked in swiftly when she hit the ground and acted as a sort of barrier between what was happening in the real world and Shannah's mind. So when Mickey was there moving her, the slow movements starting to wake her up now that the threat had passed. But the first thing she felt was this awful pain in her side, strong enough to have her trying to curl up at little. Someone was calling her name but she didn't know who it was immediately. It took her another few moments to look up and see MIckey there, but what she spotted was the blood. "Mickey, you're hurt..."

Mickey let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, shaking his head a little. “I’m fine. Are you okay? Do you remember what happened?” He looked her over, trying to survey the damage as she curled up. “Are you hurt?”

The questions were still a little fast for Shoshannah. Her shoulder ached, but it was really her side that hurt. Looking down at it, she wondered why there was dark dirt on it. Her floors had been immaculate before the showing; she'd made sure of that, but it was logical to think that the shoes everyone wore would track something in from outside. But here, the dirt was concentrated, focused on one spot on her dress like a shoeprint. "No..." She said instantly, not sure what it was in answer to. She looked past herself and Mickey to see the wreckage of her gallery. To see glass shattered on the floor, paintings ripped or broken, artwork strewn on the floor and smashed into corners or against walls. She didn't notice her eyes were welling up with tears because all she could see was the remnants of her gallery broken on the floor around her.

Mickey reached for her again, trying to help her up and realizing that he was likely to get blood on her dress. “Hey, try and sit up for me okay?” he asked, noticing the tears in her eyes and wishing he could do more for it. He wanted to tell her what happened, but she seemed so upset that it probably wasn’t the time yet.

He was asking her to sit up and at first that didn't seem like too much to ask but when she tried, she quickly found out that it was. She ended up curled up on herself again, hands reaching instantly for her right side. She gave a muffled sound of pain and clenched her eyes shut as she tried to calm herself down with deep breaths.

That wasn’t good, not good at all, and Mickey was already moving to her side, trying to get a better idea of what happened. The boot print was enough and he scowled. Who the fuck kicked a girl when she was down? “Shannah,” he repeated, realizing he was a using a nickname that hadn’t been afforded to him yet. They weren’t friends like that, but it came out faster than Miss Shoshannah and right now he didn’t want to stumble over her name. “Does it hurt to breath or just to sit up?”

Shaking her head, Shoshannah settled herself where it didn't hurt to be even if it was on the floor. "Just to sit...breathing is fine." From where she was, she found herself staring up at the painting above her. It was Antonio's painting, the one with the buildings that used to make her feel small, and for once she realized that it wasn't such a nice painting to look at. It didn't give her that nice feeling it used to. "There was a man with a mask...more than one and everyone was yelling, everyone was screaming..."

“Okay good, just stay there. Help’s coming.” He could hear the sirens now, starting to wail over everything. “I know. I got caught in the middle of it. Don’t worry some of them aren’t moving to well now.” Some of them weren’t moving at all. Like the few that had been shot. Pushing that away he reached for Shoshannah’s hand, holding it in both of his. “I’m gonna stay with you until the ambulance gets here okay?”

"But why? Why now, why here? I don't...none of this makes any sense." She looked down at their hands and gripped Mickey's tighter, nodding. "All right, but you have to promise to let them look at you too. Let my father look at you," She offered seriously. "We're going to Eidolon General, right? He's working tonight."

“I have no idea,” Mickey told her, wishing he could tell her more. “I wish I knew.” That seemed to be the way things were going now though. “I will, I promise, but I’m alright.” Minus the glass in his hand and the cut on his head. Plus he guessed he had another black eye to go with his original one. “I’ll see to it that we go there, let them know that you want to see him.”

Looking up at Mickey, Shoshannah tried hard again to make any sort of sense of this but it was completely senseless. "Mickey, that's not it..I want you to see him. I trust my father, I want you to see a doctor I trust." He looked hurt and obviously he'd stepped up and tried to stop the fights, so she wanted Mickey to receive the best care for it.

That softened hm a little, making something inside him tighten and he squeezed her hand. “I’m fine, I promise.” He smiled with, trying to show he was fine. “I should have come by earlier, you were just busy. I wanted to say hello.” He’d come for her, even if it had been Elle’s idea.

"You should have," Shoshannah agreed. "But I'm glad you're here now. Thank you for coming, Mickey. I'm sorry you were here with this happened but I'm glad you came." It still didn't make sense to her. She was still in shock, but seeing the paintings hanging by threads or just the tips of nails, seeing them on the ground around her, it was heartbreaking. The kind of heartbreaking that was going to start slow; the kind that would be with her for a good, long while. "I've got to clean this up. The paintings are all going to be ruined if they stay like this..." Plenty of them were ruined already, but she wanted to save the ones she could even if she couldn't really get up to do that right now.

“I know, I just...I didn’t want to bother you. There were far more important people to talk to,” he said shaking his head. “And don’t apologize. I’m glad I was here to help.” Glancing around the room he took in the wreckage for the first time, letting it sink in what had happened here. “We’ll get it taken care of. For now you just rest until the ambulance comes. Once you’re taking care of, I’ll look to the paintings. And tomorrow I’ll come by and work on boarding things up.”

"Mickey, stop that. You're important, just as important as everyone else is." Shoshannah looked at him seriously again, but she saw something in his eyes. His words were logical. Get taken care of before she could take care of this...but she wasn't feeling very logical right now. "Oh god, we have to board it up..." She murmured, trying again to get a better look at the gallery but coming up short thanks to the pain in her side. That hurt. That really hurt. Boarding up her gallery was going to sting worse than any feeling she had in her right now. She loved this place with all her heart. It was the most important place in the world to her and it was broken now.

Mickey shook his head, not willing to admit that he was worth longer than thirty seconds of her time. “No, you know that’s not true,” he chided. “But thank you.” He wanted her to like him and this was not the way to start was it? “Don’t worry about any of that,” he reassured her. “I’ll take are of all of it. Rebuild anything you need.”

"Mickey..." Shoshannah said, her tone a little warning. He knew better than to think that she thought anything less of him than she did of anyone else. He was a friend, a good friend of Elle's and that made him a friend of hers certainly. But right now she couldn't have this fight with him. Right now, they were talking about boarding up her gallery. Her gallery. "Mickey, I can't ask you do to that."

“You aren’t asking me,” he said ignoring her warning. She could warn all she wanted, she’d never see him like he saw her. “I’m offering. More telling really. I’ll take care of it. Promise.”

"Not while you're hurt, you're not." There was a sternness in her voice that, surprisingly emulated her mother's when she sounded this way. It wasn't something she was proud of, but she didn't want Mickey overexerting himself. "And this isn't your mess to clean up. It's mine. I'd appreciate the help but you aren't doing this alone."

Despite her stern tone, Mickey couldn’t help that little smile creep onto his lips. It was determined to be a night full of inappropriate reactions he guessed. “Okay, you can help. We’ll get it cleaned up and back to new as soon as I can. And not until after I get my head checked. Fair?”

"Fair," She said softly as she nodded to him. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking this time to try and wrap her head around it all. It still wasn't working, though. All she could do was wonder why this happened. "How bad was it, Mickey? I don't remember much..." Honestly she remembered her attack, or the beginning of it, and then Mickey waking her up. She remembered people screaming and running before it, but not much in between.

Mickey had to force back the actual answer. To tell her there were people dead, that they’d be scrubbing out blood let alone whatever else was there. “It wasn’t good. But it’s mostly over now.” The sirens were closer, probably just outside the doors. “You’re gonna be okay Shannah. I promise.”

"But why, Mickey? Why here?" She wanted to ask what she had done to bring this upon them, but she wasn't sure that was right. She still didn't know why this had happened s how could she be sure this was her fault? But it had happened here and this place was so important to her. "We weren't hurting anyone..."

“I don’t know,” Mickey said feeling helpless. He wanted to have answers, to tell her the truth, or something, but he had nothing to work with. “I don’t know at all. You weren’t hurting anyone, sometimes things just happen.” That didn’t work, nor help, but it was what they said at church all the time. Things happen for a reason. God always has a plan.

"Things like this shouldn't just happen," Shoshannah protested weakly, closing her eyes. The sirens were louder now, everything was going to get frantic again all too soon, but for a moment she just wanted to be here and try to be calm. She squeezed Mickey's hand again then peeked at him. "Thank you, Mickey. For being here, for helping..for it all."

“I know, but you have to assume there’s a reason in it, we just can’t see it.” He sounded like the priests, but they always seemed more confident in what they were saying. Mickey wondered if his own fate was faltering. “I’m always here,” he promised, realizing it was a heavier comment than he normally would have made. “Even when you don’t notice.”

“It seems so senseless though..." Everything seemed so senseless recently. Looking back at Mickey, Shoshannah's eyes narrowed a little in confusion. "What do you mean, Mickey? I don't not notice you, Mickey."

Mickey just shook his head, cursing silently in his head. He really needed to keep his mouth shut. “No, I know. Just...it’s nothing Shannah.” This was not the place to tell her he was interested. She was hurt, her gallery was ruined and he was bleeding. “Nothing. I promise.”

She was going to respond to him, but the sirens were too loud now and Shoshannah shut her eyes against the sound. For now, she'd have to let it stand even though his words were certainly on her mind. Taking a moment, she looked back over at him and realized that right now, there were more important things than deciphering his words. Like his injuries. "Let's get you looked at."

“Same to you. I’m fine. A few stitches at the most and I’ll be back to normal.” Mickey looked away from her, waving over the medics who came in as the ambulance stopped outside the gallery. He wasn’t the worst off, but Shoshannah might be worse than she looked, which meant she went first.

"Mickey, don't fight me on this. You should get looked at first, you're bleeding." Shoshannah looked back at him and frowned a little. "Please? I'd rather see you get tended to first."

There wasn’t a moment to argue, paramedics, coming up to them, looking both of them over. Shannah was on the ground and Mickey was a bloody mess. They took a moment to assess and then jumped on the situation. Reluctantly Mickey let Shannah’s hand go, letting his bleeding hand get taken by the paramedic. “Not leaving her until you tell me she’s alright,” he told the paramedic leaning over Shoshannah. It got him an annoyed look but a nod and Mickey sat back, breathing a little easier for the first time since the evening had gone to hell.

The paramedic looking over Shoshannah realized quickly that the only way to really get a look at her was to get her back to the hospital. Right now, she was lying down and that worried the paramedic. After a few traditional tests, he watched when Shoshannah winced as he neared her side. Now that he knew where she was hurt, he turned to Mickey. "We'll take her to the hospital. You'll go to the hospital too, so why don't you go wait in the ambulance while we get her to the ambulance."

Mickey was slow to leave her side but eventually nodded, taking the gauze he’d been handed to hold against his bleeding hand and moving to get up and leave. “Shannah, I’ll be with you the whole way alright?” he told her before turning to the paramedic. “Her father works at Eidolon General, that’s where we want to go.” Giving her another rueful look he headed towards the door as directed.

Shoshannah looked back at Mickey and nodded, really wishing he didn't have to leave. She knew it would be easier for them to get her to the ambulance with less people around, but she still wanted Mickey to be cared for. For now, she'd have to take one step at a time, which involved actually getting up with the help of the paramedics and getting to the ambulance despite the pain in her side. One step at a time.