![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Everything hurt. Everything. Alex woke to find that he was in agony.
Except for that one little patch on his back that had somehow avoided
the pain. He focused on that, tried to use it to fool his body into
thinking he was OK. Once the initial shock of the pain had subsided,
Alex prised his eye open. Far too much daylight in the room. This
wasn’t his flat, clearly - he had blackouts up until about twelve. He
was on a sofa, sleeping under his leather jacket. Who’s sofa though?
“I see you’re waking up. Want a cuppa?”
“Unless it’s got morphine in it, no th- fuck it, yes please.” Alex sat
up with difficulty, swinging his legs round and planting them on the
floor. He slipped on his leather jacket and yawned.
“Moss, what did you do to me last night?”
“Funny.” Spoons clattered in the kitchen.
“Seriously though, what happened? You called me to come with you on a
story... it was in the tenements... and we ran into Marco, and fuck.”
“‘Fuck I just remembered’ or ‘Fuck my booze-addled mind can’t remember
anything else’?” Harry prompted, handing him a mug.
“Nope, nothing. And I’m not booze-addled.”
“We ran into Marco’s boss. And then one of Marco’s boss’ rivals showed
up. Stuff heated up. You tried to defuse things. You kind of did -
they stopped fighting each other for a while, at least.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you at home alone.”
“Fair enough. Well, thanks for looking after me.” Alex paused. “Fuck,
it’s just come back to me. Did I really appeal to their ‘sense of
brotherhood’?”
“‘Fraid so.”
***
Alex had never really counted on having to go into hiding. The City
was smaller than you thought, and everyone seemed to recognise him.
But when he jumped out into the road, heart pounding, narrowly
avoiding a car-induced death, all to avoid the shadow of an alley-cat,
he knew the drug bosses had won. They had got into his head.
Except for that one little patch on his back that had somehow avoided
the pain. He focused on that, tried to use it to fool his body into
thinking he was OK. Once the initial shock of the pain had subsided,
Alex prised his eye open. Far too much daylight in the room. This
wasn’t his flat, clearly - he had blackouts up until about twelve. He
was on a sofa, sleeping under his leather jacket. Who’s sofa though?
“I see you’re waking up. Want a cuppa?”
“Unless it’s got morphine in it, no th- fuck it, yes please.” Alex sat
up with difficulty, swinging his legs round and planting them on the
floor. He slipped on his leather jacket and yawned.
“Moss, what did you do to me last night?”
“Funny.” Spoons clattered in the kitchen.
“Seriously though, what happened? You called me to come with you on a
story... it was in the tenements... and we ran into Marco, and fuck.”
“‘Fuck I just remembered’ or ‘Fuck my booze-addled mind can’t remember
anything else’?” Harry prompted, handing him a mug.
“Nope, nothing. And I’m not booze-addled.”
“We ran into Marco’s boss. And then one of Marco’s boss’ rivals showed
up. Stuff heated up. You tried to defuse things. You kind of did -
they stopped fighting each other for a while, at least.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you at home alone.”
“Fair enough. Well, thanks for looking after me.” Alex paused. “Fuck,
it’s just come back to me. Did I really appeal to their ‘sense of
brotherhood’?”
“‘Fraid so.”
***
Alex had never really counted on having to go into hiding. The City
was smaller than you thought, and everyone seemed to recognise him.
But when he jumped out into the road, heart pounding, narrowly
avoiding a car-induced death, all to avoid the shadow of an alley-cat,
he knew the drug bosses had won. They had got into his head.
Criminal Intent
Oct. 19th, 2010 11:59 amIt wasn't that Marco didn't like Alex. In fact Alex was all right, mostly, for someone who was fundamentally a do-gooder and nosey with it. However Marco was a small fish in a big pond and Alex had pissed off one of the big fish. Marco was simply delivering the message.
He told himself this as he watched Alex leaving the small studio where he worked. Marco knew where he was going to to deliver the message. There was a small alleyway, a short cut between a row of shops and the back door of Alex's tenement block. Alex always took that shortcut on his way home. Marco lurked in a doorway across the road from the entrance, half hoping that Alex would turn a different way, walk on to a bar, or down to the bay, or just go in by the front door for once in his life, but no.
Alex turned a corner and headed down the alleyway. Marco shrugged his shoulders in resignation, cracked his knuckles and followed. He had a message to deliver after all. Hopefully Alex wouldn't harbour any ill-feelings about it.
Next Bingo Square: PTSD
He told himself this as he watched Alex leaving the small studio where he worked. Marco knew where he was going to to deliver the message. There was a small alleyway, a short cut between a row of shops and the back door of Alex's tenement block. Alex always took that shortcut on his way home. Marco lurked in a doorway across the road from the entrance, half hoping that Alex would turn a different way, walk on to a bar, or down to the bay, or just go in by the front door for once in his life, but no.
Alex turned a corner and headed down the alleyway. Marco shrugged his shoulders in resignation, cracked his knuckles and followed. He had a message to deliver after all. Hopefully Alex wouldn't harbour any ill-feelings about it.
Next Bingo Square: PTSD
Harry leaned out of her sitting room window. Her small apartment was at the top of one of the old city tenements that teetered over the street below. If Harry looked down she could see the cobblestones of the street and the long-disused central gutter directly beneath her. If she looked out, her gaze was carried over the cascade of rooftops as they tumbled down the steep hillside and into the bay.
On mornings like this, when a light sea breeze blew up the hill and the sun was bright, everything looked fresh and inviting. The cramped, jumble of streets and houses became a delight.
If she craned her neck round a bit she could see the ugly squat squares of concrete of the new buildings in their rigid and space-efficient grids, although even they had flashes of colour where the residents had placed window boxes or the graffiti artists had left their mark. For all its awkardness, and density and inconvenience, Harry had to admit that it was a beautiful city.
Next Bingo Square: Dancing
On mornings like this, when a light sea breeze blew up the hill and the sun was bright, everything looked fresh and inviting. The cramped, jumble of streets and houses became a delight.
If she craned her neck round a bit she could see the ugly squat squares of concrete of the new buildings in their rigid and space-efficient grids, although even they had flashes of colour where the residents had placed window boxes or the graffiti artists had left their mark. For all its awkardness, and density and inconvenience, Harry had to admit that it was a beautiful city.
Next Bingo Square: Dancing
Friend In Need
Oct. 10th, 2010 10:14 pmSkip the before-last step, it’s about to shatter. Button up coat before leaving, since it’s raining. Again. Alex rummaged in his pockets for a cigarette, and once it was clamped in between his lips, shoved the door open with his shoulder. It was heavy, and the hinges screeched. He had left his iPod at home. Sod’s law dictated he would now get stuck in an elevator on his own for a week or something.
Water was dripping from the gutter. It was leaking all over the place, had been for weeks now. Alex added it to the list of things he needed to get fixed without people noticing it was broken. He fumbled with the lighter for a while, struggling to light his cigarette in the face of gusts of wind and rain.
Narrowing his eyes and turning up his collar, Alex walked down the steps and onto the pavement. It was really tipping it down. He glanced at his watch. The last bus had left five minutes ago.
“Alex!”
“Harry? Fuck are you doing here?”
“Reporting, remember? How are you?” Kissy-kissy, stand back, judge. Alex suddenly remembered he hadn’t shaved in ages.
“Same old. But seriously, it’s getting late. How’re you getting home?”
“Getting late? What, you think it’s not safe?” Harry snorted.
“Off the record?”
“Maybe.”
Alex scowled. At that moment, three young men sloped out of an alley.
“Marco, go home, will you? You’ll catch a cold.”
Two of them sniggered at the third, who made an unpleasant gesture at Alex.
“Ah, worried I’ll get mugged, eh? I can handle a few youths, don’t worry.”
“Not Marco I’m worried about. Come on. Let’s go.” Alex laid a firm hand on her shoulder and propelled her towards the exit of the cul-de-sac.
“Well, alright then, let’s. How you getting back?”
Alex squirmed for a moment.
“Left the car at home. Kinda hoping you could give me a lift, actually.”
“Aha! Sounds like someone needs a favour.”
“I’ll walk it if you push me too far.”
“You’ll have to put that out, though.” Harry jerked a thumb at his cigarette. Alex shot her a disgruntled look and then spat the cigarette skywards, grinding it under his heel as he walked over it.
“Classy.”
“One more fag-end isn’t going to tip the block into disrepair, is it? That ship sailed long ago.”
Next Bingo Square: Beauty
Water was dripping from the gutter. It was leaking all over the place, had been for weeks now. Alex added it to the list of things he needed to get fixed without people noticing it was broken. He fumbled with the lighter for a while, struggling to light his cigarette in the face of gusts of wind and rain.
Narrowing his eyes and turning up his collar, Alex walked down the steps and onto the pavement. It was really tipping it down. He glanced at his watch. The last bus had left five minutes ago.
“Alex!”
“Harry? Fuck are you doing here?”
“Reporting, remember? How are you?” Kissy-kissy, stand back, judge. Alex suddenly remembered he hadn’t shaved in ages.
“Same old. But seriously, it’s getting late. How’re you getting home?”
“Getting late? What, you think it’s not safe?” Harry snorted.
“Off the record?”
“Maybe.”
Alex scowled. At that moment, three young men sloped out of an alley.
“Marco, go home, will you? You’ll catch a cold.”
Two of them sniggered at the third, who made an unpleasant gesture at Alex.
“Ah, worried I’ll get mugged, eh? I can handle a few youths, don’t worry.”
“Not Marco I’m worried about. Come on. Let’s go.” Alex laid a firm hand on her shoulder and propelled her towards the exit of the cul-de-sac.
“Well, alright then, let’s. How you getting back?”
Alex squirmed for a moment.
“Left the car at home. Kinda hoping you could give me a lift, actually.”
“Aha! Sounds like someone needs a favour.”
“I’ll walk it if you push me too far.”
“You’ll have to put that out, though.” Harry jerked a thumb at his cigarette. Alex shot her a disgruntled look and then spat the cigarette skywards, grinding it under his heel as he walked over it.
“Classy.”
“One more fag-end isn’t going to tip the block into disrepair, is it? That ship sailed long ago.”
Next Bingo Square: Beauty
