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rainbowfic2012-03-07 11:00 am
sarcasticsra) wrote in rainbowfic2012-03-07 11:00 am
TARDIS Blue, 17 + Olive Drab, 12 + eraser + brush + stain + interactive art.
Author: Sara and Kelly
Colors: TARDIS Blue, 17. Guns can seriously damage your health, you know! (Sara) + Olive Drab, 12. “Hopalong Ferretface just shot me in the leg!” (Kelly)
Supplies: Eraser (Pan Torey AU), Brush (arrogate: to make undue claims to having), Stain ("In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.")
Style: Interactive Art
Word Count: 4,470
Rating: PG-13 (warning for violence)
Story: Polyfaceted; title of this is Bad Timing and Worse Luck.
Summary: Torey is (accidentally) shot. Basically nobody is happy about this.
Notes: Takes place in an alternate summer 2015.
A new Polish gang had arrived in town, and they'd been targeting the exact same areas as the Popojs. Really, Torey was surprised that Helena hadn't wiped them out; that probably meant Boris and Sergey had talked her down.
His family was allied with Popojs, generally speaking, and if a turf war broke out, they'd side with the Popojs as a matter of course. In Torey's opinion, though, turf wars were best avoided, and besides, his family might profit from the Jez family if they played this right.
So he'd sent Nic to talk to Helena, offer to be intermediaries and settle this peacefully. Nic had laughed when she got back; apparently, Helena had only accepted the idea because she couldn't kill the entire Jez faction herself.
Which left Torey here, Emilio standing just behind him and to his right in case anything happened, talking to Anka Jez, her own bodyguard, Teodor, behind her.
"We'd like to keep things peaceful," he said in Polish. "This is our city too. We don't want any wars to break out."
Anka's eyes narrowed. Shrewdly, she asked, "Have you been sent by the Popojs?"
Here was where one of his more volatile siblings might have reacted. He could just imagine the indignation over the implication that he'd been "sent by" anyone. "Our offer is our own," he told her. "Wars are bad for everyone's business."
"You are not exactly a neutral party," she said. "I know your family and the Popojs are on good terms. You wish to cheat me and mine?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Of course not. I'm here in good faith."
She was silent for a long moment. "I do not believe you," she said in very clear, but highly-accented English. "I want it to be understood that I will not stand for any deception."
The next few seconds were a blur of movement, Anka nodding at her bodyguard, Emilio charging forward and calling, "Down!", then a gun pointed directly at Emilio's head, and Anka swiftly backing away and jostling Teodor just as the shot went off; then, finally, an explosion of pain in his right shoulder.
The gunshot—what it had to be—spun his chair to the right, so he missed exactly what Emilio did. That didn't mean he didn't have a good idea, and he tried to focus on that instead of the fact that his shoulder hurt like fuck.
The most he could do about his shoulder himself was keep pressure on it with his left hand and not move his right arm, since that sent bolts of pain like he'd never felt before through his body. A minute later, Emilio was there, pressing the shirt he'd ripped off at some point to the back of Torey's shoulder.
"Probably missed anything important where it is." Torey heard Emilio dialing. "It's lucky it didn't ricochet off a rib."
"Luckier she hit him before he could shoot," Torey managed. Apparently talking pulled a muscle that went toward his shoulder, since it hurt. "Fuck."
"I believe it." A second after that, Emilio was rattling off what had happened, calmly for a guy who'd probably just killed two people.
Good thing he hadn't brought one of his siblings.
Fuck, it hurt.
Emilio ended his first call and made another, this one for guys to come get them, and Torey tried to keep focusing on the events around him. Distracting his brain from the burn in his shoulder was good.
It occurred to him that he'd need to call Eileen and Sam at some point, provided someone didn't do it for him. Emilio had probably called Matt, and Matt would probably call Johnny, so all his siblings would know in about two seconds flat...
He clenched his teeth against the pain. It felt like an interminable age before a bunch of his guys got there, some helping him into a car, some staying behind, but a quick glance at the car's radio told him it'd been roughly seven minutes at most.
"Matt's meeting us at his hospital," Emilio told him. "There's a back way in, and I don't think anyone's going to stop us."
Torey grunted. "Remind me to give you a raise."
"Yeah. How long do you think before one of your brothers or sisters calls me?"
Torey tried hard to think about it, but he was starting to feel faintly woozy. "Hope it's not David. He'll blame you. Don't go in to work until I talk to him."
Emilio snorted. "Yeah, I won't. I don't think anyone would fuck up his aim."
"Johnny or Is should call you any second," Torey continued. "I might pass out soon."
"Rather you didn't, if you can help it. We'd have to steal a wheelchair."
"No promises, but I'll try," Torey said.
Emilio's phone rang. "Johnny," he said, and hit accept, instantly switching the call to speaker. "He can hear you."
"Tore?"
Just one syllable and Torey could tell how pissed and stressed his brother was. "Here, Johnny." Fuck, passing out was sounding better and better.
"How bad is it?"
"Through and through," Emilio said, for which Torey was grateful; for one thing, he couldn't see the back of it without turning his head, and for another, that was too much thinking. "It looks pretty straight, and he's not bleeding like anything big got hit."
"Thanks. Tore, I'm callin' Eileen an' Sam for ya. Dunno what Matt's gonna do for ya after patchin' ya up. Emilio, gimme a call when ya know."
"Will do."
"Letta's callin' Helena, David's gonna kill everythin', an' so's Sable. Better be okay, or I'm pretty sure we're just gonna blow up the fuckin' city."
Torey smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'll try, Johnny."
"He's going to pass out," Emilio put in. "I think, anyway. He's turning grey."
"Take care of 'im. How'd it happen?"
"Bodyguard aimed for me, I was going for the gun, Anka moved away and hit him with the chair. Bad luck."
"Good luck," Torey said as firmly as he could. This was better than Emilio being dead.
Emilio ignored him. "I'll talk to you after Matt takes care of him, Johnny. He doesn't look good."
"Yeah, fine." Johnny hung up, and Emilio turned enough to make eye contact.
"We're almost there. About two minutes away. If you have to pass out, we'll manage. You're going to live, though."
"I'd better, if only so New York doesn't become a smoking crater," Torey muttered. Yeah, he was going to pass out. His vision was starting to grey around the edges, and before long, there was nothing but darkness.
---
"Eileen! Johnny's on the phone!"
Eileen put the finishing touches on the plate in front of her and wiped her hands on her apron. They were smack in between their regular lunch and dinner rushes, which made it relatively easy to get to the phone. "Johnny, you called at a good time. What's going on?"
Johnny blew out a breath, and that alone told her it wasn't good news. "Tore's been shot. He's gonna be okay, through the shoulder, Matt's probably patchin' 'im up now."
She took her own deep breath. He was going to be fine, she told herself. Focus on that, not the fear and anger bubbling up, threatening to spill over. "Have you called Sam yet?"
"He was my next call."
"Let me do it," she said.
"Make it easier ta keep David from destroyin' the place," Johnny muttered. "Call me when ya get there."
"Yeah. Thanks, Johnny," she made herself add, just before she hung up and dialed Sam's cell by memory.
"Hi, Eileen."
"Sam, are you sitting down?"
"Yes," Sam said slowly, "I'm at my desk. Why?"
She took another deep breath before saying, "Torey's been shot. Matt's taking care of him, Johnny says he's going to be okay, and I'm about to leave for the hospital."
It took Sam a long moment to reply, and when he did, his voice shook. "It's not just me anymore."
"I'll see you there soon."
"Yeah, I'm catching a cab in a second. You're sure he'll be okay?"
"I haven't talked to Matt, but that's what Johnny said. I don't know if he was with Torey, though."
"He'll be okay," Sam said again, sounding mainly like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. "He will."
"Get in a cab, sweetheart. I'll meet you there."
"I'm going. He'll be okay."
It wasn't a bad mantra, she supposed, as they hung up.
"What's going on?" Max asked her immediately; obviously he'd picked up on enough to know it was bad news. She started untying her apron.
"Torey's been shot," she told him. "I'm going to the hospital. You can take over here?"
"Of course," he said without hesitation. "Go. He's going to be okay?"
"Yes, he will," she said, taking another deep breath. He'd better.
Emilio was in the lobby, wearing a scrub top, when Eileen got to the hospital. That answered the question of who'd been with Torey when it happened. "He'll be okay?" she asked as soon as she reached him.
"He'll be fine. Matt's stitching him up now."
Eileen closed her eyes briefly. "Thank you, Emilio."
"Want me to take you up, or do you want to wait for Sam?"
"I'm waiting," she said instantly, and hoped Sam would get to the hospital quickly.
Obligingly, he came in the doors a second later, looking fairly terrified. She hurried across the lobby to hug him tightly, which he returned.
"Have you seen him?"
"I just got here." She loosened her hold on Sam, looking him in the eye. "Emilio was there. He says Matt's stitching him up and he'll be fine. He's going to be okay, sweetheart."
Sam let out a deep, ragged breath. "Good. Okay."
"I can take you both up there now," Emilio offered.
"Yes, thank you," said Eileen.
"What happened?" Sam asked, in a lower voice. "Who would be stupid enough to shoot Torey?"
"Guy was aiming for me. Bad timing and worse luck," Emilio told him.
"Torey will probably disagree," said Eileen.
"He already did." Emilio shook his head.
"Was it just the two of you?" Eileen asked as they headed for the elevator. "Johnny mentioned David still being at the office..."
"Yeah. It was supposed to be a lot easier than it turned out. Civil, not shooting." Emilio jabbed the elevator button much harder than necessary.
"See, I don't get myself hurt during civil meetings," Sam said to Eileen, and they stepped on the elevator.
"You, sweetheart, get yourself punched in bars and then take advantage of it to make new contacts." Eileen found his hand, squeezing tightly, and he squeezed hers just as hard.
"That helps my job. I don't think getting shot will help Torey's."
Emilio snorted, but didn't offer anything on that front. Good; Eileen wouldn't have to shut him up.
"Is Matt doing this by himself?" she asked Emilio.
"Yeah, he couldn't really get a nurse involved. I left some other guys up there to head off anyone feeling nosy. Nothing worse than a nurse asking questions is going to happen here, but that's still a headache."
"Thanks," Sam said. "You were the one taking care of him right after?"
"It's my job."
"Still, thanks for being good at your job," Sam told him.
Emilio only shook his head as the elevator chimed and the doors opened. "This way," he said, turning right, and they followed.
She noticed Sam hadn't let go of her hand.
When they got to the room, passing by three very large men loitering in the hall, all of whom looked thoroughly bored until their body language was taken into account, Emilio glanced in the door. "Looks like he's done."
Good. Eileen might be able to butcher an animal, but she didn't want to see an open wound on Torey. The two of them passed Emilio; Matt was washing up at the room's sink, and Torey was hazily awake.
"How is he?" Eileen asked Matt while Sam went to Torey's side.
"Very strong antibiotics for ten days, call me at any sign at all of an infection, I'll take the stitches out in two weeks and arrange for physical therapy. He's going to hurt like hell, but he'll be okay. You need to get him a sling and keep ice on it."
"Thank you."
Matt nodded, and Eileen joined Sam, and she was absolutely certain her expression conveyed her worry. "Hi, honey."
"Hi," Torey said, sounding distant. "Sorry."
"You better be," Sam said. "You took us out of work." Again, Eileen didn't comment on the tremor in Sam's voice.
"I think we're going home soon," Eileen put in. "I'll call a car as soon as Matt clears us."
"The sooner you leave, the less likely it is someone's going to ask questions," Matt said over his shoulder. "I'm going to come by after I'm off to give him another antibiotic injection."
"Thanks," Sam said, and turned his attention back to Torey. "This isn't going to happen again, is it?"
"I'll try not to."
"I bet Emilio won't let it," Eileen said. "Honey, can you sit up?"
Torey grimaced but he managed to sit up. "Getting shot fucking hurts," he muttered absently.
"You're making me glad I've avoided that one," Sam said, tone still superficially light, and the worry in his eyes wasn't remotely masked.
"I'm going to call us a car," Eileen said. "So we can go home."
"Good idea," said Torey.
Eileen found her phone and called for the car, the dispatch promising it'd be there in five to ten minutes once she'd impressed upon the need for urgency. "It's on the way."
"You can use the wheelchair we stole to get him up here," Emilio said then, indicating the one that was collapsed, sitting against the wall.
Sam unfolded it and brought it over to the bed, then turned to Emilio and asked, "Have an idea for the shirt problem?"
Good point, one Eileen hadn't considered. Of course Torey's would be unwearable after being shot.
"Yeah." Emilio stuck his head out the door and called something to one of the other men; a moment later, he caught and brought in a button-down shirt. "Dominic was wearing it over a t-shirt," Emilio explained. "Here."
"Wear it over your arm, if it fits," Sam suggested. "It was easier when I dislocated my shoulder."
"You're the expert." With Eileen's help, Torey got the shirt on his left arm.
"Again," Sam said, "I wasn't shot." He kissed Torey quickly.
"The guest room downstairs has a king," Eileen said as she buttoned Torey's shirt. "I think it could accommodate three people for sleeping purposes."
She didn't miss Sam's grateful look.
"Are you going to prescribe him some good drugs?" Sam asked Matt then. He had just finished cleaning up.
"Yeah, he's going to need them. Percocet," he said, pulling a pen and his prescription pad out of a pocket. "Along with those antibiotics I mentioned."
Eileen nodded as he handed her the scrips. "We'll get these filled as soon as he's settled at home."
"Speaking of home, has anyone called Alyce yet, given her a heads up?" Torey spoke up. He grimaced again, and she guessed the haziness was starting to wear off.
"I'll do that now," Sam said, pulling out his phone.
By the time they got back downstairs, the car was already waiting for them; Eileen made a mental note to tip extra well for that. The driver didn't even blink when he saw them, merely held the door for them as they helped Torey inside the car.
"Sam, do we still have your sling?" Eileen asked.
"Yeah, it's in my closet. I'll get it when we get home." He slipped his hand under Torey's forearm, and judging by Torey's expression, that took some of the weight off his shoulder.
"I love both of you," Torey told them, looking at Sam.
"I love you too," Sam said.
"So do I. I'll take some time off," Eileen added.
"Your turn to suffer," Sam told Torey.
Torey groaned. "Yeah, I figured as much."
Eileen smiled at him. "You know it's only out of concern."
"That's what makes it all the more terrifying," Sam said. "I never understood the phrase 'killing with kindness' until I met you, Eileen."
"I'd think it worked, except you dislocated your shoulder after you were stabbed." Eileen paused a second. "Of course, that's an improvement over being stabbed in the first place..."
"No, it definitely worked," Sam said, "if only because I almost died of guilt."
"I'm not going to enjoy the next week or two, am I?" Torey asked, not really directed at either of them as far as she could tell.
"Depends. Are you going to enjoy the pain of healing from a gunshot wound?" Sam asked.
"Doubtful," Torey said.
"There's your answer," Sam said, not unsympathetically.
"I should probably call Johnny back at some point so everyone knows I'm okay," he said. "And maybe ask how destroyed the offices are now."
"He said something about David when he called me," Eileen said. "Destroy was in there."
"I'm not surprised," Torey muttered.
Eileen found her phone and dialed Johnny, putting him on speaker. When he answered, Torey said, "Hey, Johnny."
"Hey, how bad's it hurtin'?"
"Like fuck," Torey replied. "The numbing's wearing off."
"Fuckin' sucks. I'll tell everyone you're alive. David's breakin' shit, might slow down now."
Eileen saw Torey raise an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything about it. "Talk to Emilio—it wasn't his fault, by the way, Anka accidentally fucked her bodyguard's aim so he didn't kill Emilio and did shoot me, which sort of makes it worth it—"
"Course it does," Johnny muttered.
"—anyway, talk to him about what to tell the Popojs."
"Helena's already plannin' an all-out assault, accordin' ta Nic."
"Yeah, I'm not surprised. Tell David he can call me in about half an hour. It might stop him from breaking literally everything. You tell Ma and Pop yet?"
"Wanted ta see how ya were doin' after Matt fixed ya up. I'll call 'em now."
"Good. Hey, tell Gino to come by."
"Yeah, be a good idea, wouldn' it? Ya sound like shit, get some rest."
"Thanks," Torey said dryly.
"You're welcome. Bye, Tore."
Eileen locked her screen again and put her phone away. "I'll send Alyce to pick up the prescriptions," she said. "We can both get you settled that way."
Torey nodded. "Would one of you get me ice as soon as we get home?"
"I can get that," Sam said, "then find that sling for you."
"Thanks," he said, smiling gratefully. "Did I mention I love both of you?"
"You did," Eileen said, smiling back at him. "And we love you too."
The car slowed as it approached their house, and when it stopped, the driver headed directly for the trunk to retrieve the wheelchair they'd borrowed from the hospital. Alyce greeted them as soon as they made it inside the door.
"Alexa and Jacob are busy with their homework," she said. "And I've got Peter and Chris in the playroom. I wasn't sure what you wanted to tell them just yet."
"Once we get Torey settled, we'll tell them he got hurt," Eileen said with a nod. "We have prescriptions. Could you run and get them filled?"
"Of course," she said, and Eileen handed her the papers. "I'll be back as quickly as possible."
"Thanks," Torey said to her.
"You're welcome, Mr. Corlioni."
Eileen turned to Sam. "I'll take the kids, since you're getting the sling and ice."
"Sure," Sam agreed. "I'm glad we don't have carpet right now." He took Torey off toward the guest room, and Eileen headed to the playroom, in the other direction, to keep her surprised boys occupied until Alyce got back.
“Mommy, you’re home!” said Peter, jumping up to give her a hug. Chris tried the same thing and misjudged his balance, falling back down. He seemed to find it funny, because he started giggling, and she smiled and went to him, lifting him up to her hip. He beamed at her.
"I am home," she agreed.
"How come?" he asked. "Don't you have your work?"
"Not right now," Eileen told him. "I'm taking the night off. Probably a little while longer, too."
Peter frowned. "Is Alyce gonna be here?"
Eileen laughed. Leave it to their awesome nanny to be wanted even when Eileen would be home with the kids. "She'll be here," she assured him, "and so will I. Daddy's taking some time off, too."
Peter grinned then. "Sam too?"
"Maybe Sam too," she agreed. "You have to ask him, though."
"Mommy, Daddy, and Sam home?" Chris asked, looking delighted by the prospect.
"That would be so cool," Peter declared.
"You can ask him in a little bit," Eileen said, smiling briefly at the thought. With Torey hurt, plus at least two of the kids asking him to stay home, she didn't even have to bother betting to herself what he would say. That was a foregone conclusion. "What were you guys playing with?"
"Chris wanted help with the puzzle," Peter said.
They settled in to work on it, and it wasn't long before Alyce walked back through the door. "Alyce!" said Chris excitedly. "Mommy's here!"
"I see that," she said, smiling at him.
"Did you give the things to Sam and Torey?" Eileen asked.
"I did," Alyce confirmed. "Want me to come with you?"
"Please. Could you get Alexa and Jacob?"
"Yeah, we'll be there in a second." Alyce left the playroom.
"Okay." Eileen looked at Peter. "Let's go see Daddy, okay?"
"Daddy!" Chris repeated, grinning. "And Sam?"
"And Sam."
"Okay," Peter agreed. "Are they upstairs?"
"No, downstairs guest room. Come on, guys." Eileen led Peter out of the room, Chris still on her hip.
“Why’s Daddy in here?” Peter asked as they walked in, and his eyes widened when he saw him. “Daddy, what happened?”
“I got hurt, buddy,” Torey said.
“Daddy got hurt,” Chris helpfully repeated to Alexa and Jacob as soon as Alyce led them into the room.
“In your shoulder? Like Sam did?” Alexa asked.
“Yeah, but not exactly like that,” Torey said.
“You’re gonna be okay, right?” Jacob asked, and Torey nodded.
“Of course.”
“Mommy said she’s staying home from work and you’re staying home,” Peter said. “So you can get better, right?”
“That’s right,” Torey said.
“Are you gonna stay home too, Sam?” Alexa beat Peter to asking.
"I—" Sam started.
“You should!” Jacob agreed.
"It'd be cool," Peter re-affirmed.
Even Chris looked at him and said, "Sam stay home!"
That made all four of them, and Eileen tried not to look too amused. Sam didn't stand a chance.
And she was right. Sam held up his hands. "I surrender, guys. I'll stay home."
"At least there won't be a pants issue this time," Alyce muttered, and all three adults laughed, Torey grabbing at his shoulder once he did. Hopefully his pain medication worked soon.
Alexa, smart child she was, looked at Alyce and repeated, "Pants issue?"
"No," Sam said hastily, "you don't need to know about the pants issue."
"Agreed," Alyce said, and looked at the older kids. "Done with your homework?"
"Almost," Jacob answered. "Dad, are you gonna be okay?"
"I absolutely am," he said. "Promise. Come here."
Jacob did, and Torey managed a one-armed hug, and then Alexa wanted one, and she smiled and gave him a kiss. Peter and Chris were next, and then Alyce said, "Okay, let's give your dad a little time to rest, guys. Jacob, Alexa, you two can finish your homework and then join Chris, Peter, and me in the playroom, how's that sound?"
The kids cooperated as Alyce herded them out of the room, and Eileen gave her a grateful look. She truly was indispensable.
"How are you feeling, honey?" she asked Torey. "Painkillers starting to work yet?"
"Yeah, they are. I'm pretty sure I owe both Emilio and Alyce a raise at this point." Torey paused a second. "Definitely Emilio."
"Considering you're not dead," Sam said, "I'm going to agree." He sighed and joined Torey on the bed. "Please don't get hurt again."
Eileen gave Sam a look. "How many times have I tried that with you?"
"The difference is that I'm not sleeping with you," Sam pointed out.
Eileen shook her head and also sat on the bed, on Torey's other side. "I do have to agree, though," she said to him. "Please don't get hurt again."
"Believe me, I prefer to avoid it," Torey said. He kissed her, then Sam.
"It did help my shoulder to sleep sitting up," Sam said. "What's going to be best for you?"
"Upright pulls on it. Probably laying down."
"Eileen, how much do you move in your sleep?" Sam asked, looking past Torey.
"Not much. I had babies sleep with me some nights."
"It should be okay," Torey said. "This bed can manage three people."
"Look at that, Eileen," Sam said. "He finally figured out a way to get us all in bed together."
Eileen laughed. "Not quite what he might've hoped for, I'm guessing."
"I hoped for no such thing," Torey said. "I don't think Sam could get an erection when there's a naked woman."
"Hey!" Sam grinned. "If I kept my eyes closed, it would be okay."
"I would be offended if I didn't know you're as gay as Alyce." Eileen ran her nails through Torey's hair, looking over at Sam. "I'll make dinner if you keep the kids occupied."
"What a burden," Sam said, his grin broadening.
She smiled, then turned to Torey. "Do you need anything before I start dinner and Sam takes over with the kids?"
"Could someone bring me my phone? David's probably going to call soon, Is too, and I want to have it nearby."
"I'll get it." Sam stood and left the room, closing the door most of the way behind him—an obvious gesture to give them a private moment, which she appreciated.
"Oh, honey. You had us worried, you know that?" She leaned in and kissed him softly.
"I know." He took her hand. "I'm sorry about that. I love you."
Eileen kissed him again and mustered a smile. "I love you too. Especially when you stay in one piece."
"I like staying that way too."
When Sam returned with Torey's phone a few moments later, she smiled at him and headed for the kitchen, leaving them to have their own private moment.
Rosemary and white wine baked chicken breasts, she decided, with homemade rice pilaf and a spinach salad. That would keep her sufficiently busy—and her mind sufficiently off her shot husband.
Shaking her head clear of the thought, she got to work.
Colors: TARDIS Blue, 17. Guns can seriously damage your health, you know! (Sara) + Olive Drab, 12. “Hopalong Ferretface just shot me in the leg!” (Kelly)
Supplies: Eraser (Pan Torey AU), Brush (arrogate: to make undue claims to having), Stain ("In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.")
Style: Interactive Art
Word Count: 4,470
Rating: PG-13 (warning for violence)
Story: Polyfaceted; title of this is Bad Timing and Worse Luck.
Summary: Torey is (accidentally) shot. Basically nobody is happy about this.
Notes: Takes place in an alternate summer 2015.
A new Polish gang had arrived in town, and they'd been targeting the exact same areas as the Popojs. Really, Torey was surprised that Helena hadn't wiped them out; that probably meant Boris and Sergey had talked her down.
His family was allied with Popojs, generally speaking, and if a turf war broke out, they'd side with the Popojs as a matter of course. In Torey's opinion, though, turf wars were best avoided, and besides, his family might profit from the Jez family if they played this right.
So he'd sent Nic to talk to Helena, offer to be intermediaries and settle this peacefully. Nic had laughed when she got back; apparently, Helena had only accepted the idea because she couldn't kill the entire Jez faction herself.
Which left Torey here, Emilio standing just behind him and to his right in case anything happened, talking to Anka Jez, her own bodyguard, Teodor, behind her.
"We'd like to keep things peaceful," he said in Polish. "This is our city too. We don't want any wars to break out."
Anka's eyes narrowed. Shrewdly, she asked, "Have you been sent by the Popojs?"
Here was where one of his more volatile siblings might have reacted. He could just imagine the indignation over the implication that he'd been "sent by" anyone. "Our offer is our own," he told her. "Wars are bad for everyone's business."
"You are not exactly a neutral party," she said. "I know your family and the Popojs are on good terms. You wish to cheat me and mine?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Of course not. I'm here in good faith."
She was silent for a long moment. "I do not believe you," she said in very clear, but highly-accented English. "I want it to be understood that I will not stand for any deception."
The next few seconds were a blur of movement, Anka nodding at her bodyguard, Emilio charging forward and calling, "Down!", then a gun pointed directly at Emilio's head, and Anka swiftly backing away and jostling Teodor just as the shot went off; then, finally, an explosion of pain in his right shoulder.
The gunshot—what it had to be—spun his chair to the right, so he missed exactly what Emilio did. That didn't mean he didn't have a good idea, and he tried to focus on that instead of the fact that his shoulder hurt like fuck.
The most he could do about his shoulder himself was keep pressure on it with his left hand and not move his right arm, since that sent bolts of pain like he'd never felt before through his body. A minute later, Emilio was there, pressing the shirt he'd ripped off at some point to the back of Torey's shoulder.
"Probably missed anything important where it is." Torey heard Emilio dialing. "It's lucky it didn't ricochet off a rib."
"Luckier she hit him before he could shoot," Torey managed. Apparently talking pulled a muscle that went toward his shoulder, since it hurt. "Fuck."
"I believe it." A second after that, Emilio was rattling off what had happened, calmly for a guy who'd probably just killed two people.
Good thing he hadn't brought one of his siblings.
Fuck, it hurt.
Emilio ended his first call and made another, this one for guys to come get them, and Torey tried to keep focusing on the events around him. Distracting his brain from the burn in his shoulder was good.
It occurred to him that he'd need to call Eileen and Sam at some point, provided someone didn't do it for him. Emilio had probably called Matt, and Matt would probably call Johnny, so all his siblings would know in about two seconds flat...
He clenched his teeth against the pain. It felt like an interminable age before a bunch of his guys got there, some helping him into a car, some staying behind, but a quick glance at the car's radio told him it'd been roughly seven minutes at most.
"Matt's meeting us at his hospital," Emilio told him. "There's a back way in, and I don't think anyone's going to stop us."
Torey grunted. "Remind me to give you a raise."
"Yeah. How long do you think before one of your brothers or sisters calls me?"
Torey tried hard to think about it, but he was starting to feel faintly woozy. "Hope it's not David. He'll blame you. Don't go in to work until I talk to him."
Emilio snorted. "Yeah, I won't. I don't think anyone would fuck up his aim."
"Johnny or Is should call you any second," Torey continued. "I might pass out soon."
"Rather you didn't, if you can help it. We'd have to steal a wheelchair."
"No promises, but I'll try," Torey said.
Emilio's phone rang. "Johnny," he said, and hit accept, instantly switching the call to speaker. "He can hear you."
"Tore?"
Just one syllable and Torey could tell how pissed and stressed his brother was. "Here, Johnny." Fuck, passing out was sounding better and better.
"How bad is it?"
"Through and through," Emilio said, for which Torey was grateful; for one thing, he couldn't see the back of it without turning his head, and for another, that was too much thinking. "It looks pretty straight, and he's not bleeding like anything big got hit."
"Thanks. Tore, I'm callin' Eileen an' Sam for ya. Dunno what Matt's gonna do for ya after patchin' ya up. Emilio, gimme a call when ya know."
"Will do."
"Letta's callin' Helena, David's gonna kill everythin', an' so's Sable. Better be okay, or I'm pretty sure we're just gonna blow up the fuckin' city."
Torey smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'll try, Johnny."
"He's going to pass out," Emilio put in. "I think, anyway. He's turning grey."
"Take care of 'im. How'd it happen?"
"Bodyguard aimed for me, I was going for the gun, Anka moved away and hit him with the chair. Bad luck."
"Good luck," Torey said as firmly as he could. This was better than Emilio being dead.
Emilio ignored him. "I'll talk to you after Matt takes care of him, Johnny. He doesn't look good."
"Yeah, fine." Johnny hung up, and Emilio turned enough to make eye contact.
"We're almost there. About two minutes away. If you have to pass out, we'll manage. You're going to live, though."
"I'd better, if only so New York doesn't become a smoking crater," Torey muttered. Yeah, he was going to pass out. His vision was starting to grey around the edges, and before long, there was nothing but darkness.
"Eileen! Johnny's on the phone!"
Eileen put the finishing touches on the plate in front of her and wiped her hands on her apron. They were smack in between their regular lunch and dinner rushes, which made it relatively easy to get to the phone. "Johnny, you called at a good time. What's going on?"
Johnny blew out a breath, and that alone told her it wasn't good news. "Tore's been shot. He's gonna be okay, through the shoulder, Matt's probably patchin' 'im up now."
She took her own deep breath. He was going to be fine, she told herself. Focus on that, not the fear and anger bubbling up, threatening to spill over. "Have you called Sam yet?"
"He was my next call."
"Let me do it," she said.
"Make it easier ta keep David from destroyin' the place," Johnny muttered. "Call me when ya get there."
"Yeah. Thanks, Johnny," she made herself add, just before she hung up and dialed Sam's cell by memory.
"Hi, Eileen."
"Sam, are you sitting down?"
"Yes," Sam said slowly, "I'm at my desk. Why?"
She took another deep breath before saying, "Torey's been shot. Matt's taking care of him, Johnny says he's going to be okay, and I'm about to leave for the hospital."
It took Sam a long moment to reply, and when he did, his voice shook. "It's not just me anymore."
"I'll see you there soon."
"Yeah, I'm catching a cab in a second. You're sure he'll be okay?"
"I haven't talked to Matt, but that's what Johnny said. I don't know if he was with Torey, though."
"He'll be okay," Sam said again, sounding mainly like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. "He will."
"Get in a cab, sweetheart. I'll meet you there."
"I'm going. He'll be okay."
It wasn't a bad mantra, she supposed, as they hung up.
"What's going on?" Max asked her immediately; obviously he'd picked up on enough to know it was bad news. She started untying her apron.
"Torey's been shot," she told him. "I'm going to the hospital. You can take over here?"
"Of course," he said without hesitation. "Go. He's going to be okay?"
"Yes, he will," she said, taking another deep breath. He'd better.
Emilio was in the lobby, wearing a scrub top, when Eileen got to the hospital. That answered the question of who'd been with Torey when it happened. "He'll be okay?" she asked as soon as she reached him.
"He'll be fine. Matt's stitching him up now."
Eileen closed her eyes briefly. "Thank you, Emilio."
"Want me to take you up, or do you want to wait for Sam?"
"I'm waiting," she said instantly, and hoped Sam would get to the hospital quickly.
Obligingly, he came in the doors a second later, looking fairly terrified. She hurried across the lobby to hug him tightly, which he returned.
"Have you seen him?"
"I just got here." She loosened her hold on Sam, looking him in the eye. "Emilio was there. He says Matt's stitching him up and he'll be fine. He's going to be okay, sweetheart."
Sam let out a deep, ragged breath. "Good. Okay."
"I can take you both up there now," Emilio offered.
"Yes, thank you," said Eileen.
"What happened?" Sam asked, in a lower voice. "Who would be stupid enough to shoot Torey?"
"Guy was aiming for me. Bad timing and worse luck," Emilio told him.
"Torey will probably disagree," said Eileen.
"He already did." Emilio shook his head.
"Was it just the two of you?" Eileen asked as they headed for the elevator. "Johnny mentioned David still being at the office..."
"Yeah. It was supposed to be a lot easier than it turned out. Civil, not shooting." Emilio jabbed the elevator button much harder than necessary.
"See, I don't get myself hurt during civil meetings," Sam said to Eileen, and they stepped on the elevator.
"You, sweetheart, get yourself punched in bars and then take advantage of it to make new contacts." Eileen found his hand, squeezing tightly, and he squeezed hers just as hard.
"That helps my job. I don't think getting shot will help Torey's."
Emilio snorted, but didn't offer anything on that front. Good; Eileen wouldn't have to shut him up.
"Is Matt doing this by himself?" she asked Emilio.
"Yeah, he couldn't really get a nurse involved. I left some other guys up there to head off anyone feeling nosy. Nothing worse than a nurse asking questions is going to happen here, but that's still a headache."
"Thanks," Sam said. "You were the one taking care of him right after?"
"It's my job."
"Still, thanks for being good at your job," Sam told him.
Emilio only shook his head as the elevator chimed and the doors opened. "This way," he said, turning right, and they followed.
She noticed Sam hadn't let go of her hand.
When they got to the room, passing by three very large men loitering in the hall, all of whom looked thoroughly bored until their body language was taken into account, Emilio glanced in the door. "Looks like he's done."
Good. Eileen might be able to butcher an animal, but she didn't want to see an open wound on Torey. The two of them passed Emilio; Matt was washing up at the room's sink, and Torey was hazily awake.
"How is he?" Eileen asked Matt while Sam went to Torey's side.
"Very strong antibiotics for ten days, call me at any sign at all of an infection, I'll take the stitches out in two weeks and arrange for physical therapy. He's going to hurt like hell, but he'll be okay. You need to get him a sling and keep ice on it."
"Thank you."
Matt nodded, and Eileen joined Sam, and she was absolutely certain her expression conveyed her worry. "Hi, honey."
"Hi," Torey said, sounding distant. "Sorry."
"You better be," Sam said. "You took us out of work." Again, Eileen didn't comment on the tremor in Sam's voice.
"I think we're going home soon," Eileen put in. "I'll call a car as soon as Matt clears us."
"The sooner you leave, the less likely it is someone's going to ask questions," Matt said over his shoulder. "I'm going to come by after I'm off to give him another antibiotic injection."
"Thanks," Sam said, and turned his attention back to Torey. "This isn't going to happen again, is it?"
"I'll try not to."
"I bet Emilio won't let it," Eileen said. "Honey, can you sit up?"
Torey grimaced but he managed to sit up. "Getting shot fucking hurts," he muttered absently.
"You're making me glad I've avoided that one," Sam said, tone still superficially light, and the worry in his eyes wasn't remotely masked.
"I'm going to call us a car," Eileen said. "So we can go home."
"Good idea," said Torey.
Eileen found her phone and called for the car, the dispatch promising it'd be there in five to ten minutes once she'd impressed upon the need for urgency. "It's on the way."
"You can use the wheelchair we stole to get him up here," Emilio said then, indicating the one that was collapsed, sitting against the wall.
Sam unfolded it and brought it over to the bed, then turned to Emilio and asked, "Have an idea for the shirt problem?"
Good point, one Eileen hadn't considered. Of course Torey's would be unwearable after being shot.
"Yeah." Emilio stuck his head out the door and called something to one of the other men; a moment later, he caught and brought in a button-down shirt. "Dominic was wearing it over a t-shirt," Emilio explained. "Here."
"Wear it over your arm, if it fits," Sam suggested. "It was easier when I dislocated my shoulder."
"You're the expert." With Eileen's help, Torey got the shirt on his left arm.
"Again," Sam said, "I wasn't shot." He kissed Torey quickly.
"The guest room downstairs has a king," Eileen said as she buttoned Torey's shirt. "I think it could accommodate three people for sleeping purposes."
She didn't miss Sam's grateful look.
"Are you going to prescribe him some good drugs?" Sam asked Matt then. He had just finished cleaning up.
"Yeah, he's going to need them. Percocet," he said, pulling a pen and his prescription pad out of a pocket. "Along with those antibiotics I mentioned."
Eileen nodded as he handed her the scrips. "We'll get these filled as soon as he's settled at home."
"Speaking of home, has anyone called Alyce yet, given her a heads up?" Torey spoke up. He grimaced again, and she guessed the haziness was starting to wear off.
"I'll do that now," Sam said, pulling out his phone.
By the time they got back downstairs, the car was already waiting for them; Eileen made a mental note to tip extra well for that. The driver didn't even blink when he saw them, merely held the door for them as they helped Torey inside the car.
"Sam, do we still have your sling?" Eileen asked.
"Yeah, it's in my closet. I'll get it when we get home." He slipped his hand under Torey's forearm, and judging by Torey's expression, that took some of the weight off his shoulder.
"I love both of you," Torey told them, looking at Sam.
"I love you too," Sam said.
"So do I. I'll take some time off," Eileen added.
"Your turn to suffer," Sam told Torey.
Torey groaned. "Yeah, I figured as much."
Eileen smiled at him. "You know it's only out of concern."
"That's what makes it all the more terrifying," Sam said. "I never understood the phrase 'killing with kindness' until I met you, Eileen."
"I'd think it worked, except you dislocated your shoulder after you were stabbed." Eileen paused a second. "Of course, that's an improvement over being stabbed in the first place..."
"No, it definitely worked," Sam said, "if only because I almost died of guilt."
"I'm not going to enjoy the next week or two, am I?" Torey asked, not really directed at either of them as far as she could tell.
"Depends. Are you going to enjoy the pain of healing from a gunshot wound?" Sam asked.
"Doubtful," Torey said.
"There's your answer," Sam said, not unsympathetically.
"I should probably call Johnny back at some point so everyone knows I'm okay," he said. "And maybe ask how destroyed the offices are now."
"He said something about David when he called me," Eileen said. "Destroy was in there."
"I'm not surprised," Torey muttered.
Eileen found her phone and dialed Johnny, putting him on speaker. When he answered, Torey said, "Hey, Johnny."
"Hey, how bad's it hurtin'?"
"Like fuck," Torey replied. "The numbing's wearing off."
"Fuckin' sucks. I'll tell everyone you're alive. David's breakin' shit, might slow down now."
Eileen saw Torey raise an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything about it. "Talk to Emilio—it wasn't his fault, by the way, Anka accidentally fucked her bodyguard's aim so he didn't kill Emilio and did shoot me, which sort of makes it worth it—"
"Course it does," Johnny muttered.
"—anyway, talk to him about what to tell the Popojs."
"Helena's already plannin' an all-out assault, accordin' ta Nic."
"Yeah, I'm not surprised. Tell David he can call me in about half an hour. It might stop him from breaking literally everything. You tell Ma and Pop yet?"
"Wanted ta see how ya were doin' after Matt fixed ya up. I'll call 'em now."
"Good. Hey, tell Gino to come by."
"Yeah, be a good idea, wouldn' it? Ya sound like shit, get some rest."
"Thanks," Torey said dryly.
"You're welcome. Bye, Tore."
Eileen locked her screen again and put her phone away. "I'll send Alyce to pick up the prescriptions," she said. "We can both get you settled that way."
Torey nodded. "Would one of you get me ice as soon as we get home?"
"I can get that," Sam said, "then find that sling for you."
"Thanks," he said, smiling gratefully. "Did I mention I love both of you?"
"You did," Eileen said, smiling back at him. "And we love you too."
The car slowed as it approached their house, and when it stopped, the driver headed directly for the trunk to retrieve the wheelchair they'd borrowed from the hospital. Alyce greeted them as soon as they made it inside the door.
"Alexa and Jacob are busy with their homework," she said. "And I've got Peter and Chris in the playroom. I wasn't sure what you wanted to tell them just yet."
"Once we get Torey settled, we'll tell them he got hurt," Eileen said with a nod. "We have prescriptions. Could you run and get them filled?"
"Of course," she said, and Eileen handed her the papers. "I'll be back as quickly as possible."
"Thanks," Torey said to her.
"You're welcome, Mr. Corlioni."
Eileen turned to Sam. "I'll take the kids, since you're getting the sling and ice."
"Sure," Sam agreed. "I'm glad we don't have carpet right now." He took Torey off toward the guest room, and Eileen headed to the playroom, in the other direction, to keep her surprised boys occupied until Alyce got back.
“Mommy, you’re home!” said Peter, jumping up to give her a hug. Chris tried the same thing and misjudged his balance, falling back down. He seemed to find it funny, because he started giggling, and she smiled and went to him, lifting him up to her hip. He beamed at her.
"I am home," she agreed.
"How come?" he asked. "Don't you have your work?"
"Not right now," Eileen told him. "I'm taking the night off. Probably a little while longer, too."
Peter frowned. "Is Alyce gonna be here?"
Eileen laughed. Leave it to their awesome nanny to be wanted even when Eileen would be home with the kids. "She'll be here," she assured him, "and so will I. Daddy's taking some time off, too."
Peter grinned then. "Sam too?"
"Maybe Sam too," she agreed. "You have to ask him, though."
"Mommy, Daddy, and Sam home?" Chris asked, looking delighted by the prospect.
"That would be so cool," Peter declared.
"You can ask him in a little bit," Eileen said, smiling briefly at the thought. With Torey hurt, plus at least two of the kids asking him to stay home, she didn't even have to bother betting to herself what he would say. That was a foregone conclusion. "What were you guys playing with?"
"Chris wanted help with the puzzle," Peter said.
They settled in to work on it, and it wasn't long before Alyce walked back through the door. "Alyce!" said Chris excitedly. "Mommy's here!"
"I see that," she said, smiling at him.
"Did you give the things to Sam and Torey?" Eileen asked.
"I did," Alyce confirmed. "Want me to come with you?"
"Please. Could you get Alexa and Jacob?"
"Yeah, we'll be there in a second." Alyce left the playroom.
"Okay." Eileen looked at Peter. "Let's go see Daddy, okay?"
"Daddy!" Chris repeated, grinning. "And Sam?"
"And Sam."
"Okay," Peter agreed. "Are they upstairs?"
"No, downstairs guest room. Come on, guys." Eileen led Peter out of the room, Chris still on her hip.
“Why’s Daddy in here?” Peter asked as they walked in, and his eyes widened when he saw him. “Daddy, what happened?”
“I got hurt, buddy,” Torey said.
“Daddy got hurt,” Chris helpfully repeated to Alexa and Jacob as soon as Alyce led them into the room.
“In your shoulder? Like Sam did?” Alexa asked.
“Yeah, but not exactly like that,” Torey said.
“You’re gonna be okay, right?” Jacob asked, and Torey nodded.
“Of course.”
“Mommy said she’s staying home from work and you’re staying home,” Peter said. “So you can get better, right?”
“That’s right,” Torey said.
“Are you gonna stay home too, Sam?” Alexa beat Peter to asking.
"I—" Sam started.
“You should!” Jacob agreed.
"It'd be cool," Peter re-affirmed.
Even Chris looked at him and said, "Sam stay home!"
That made all four of them, and Eileen tried not to look too amused. Sam didn't stand a chance.
And she was right. Sam held up his hands. "I surrender, guys. I'll stay home."
"At least there won't be a pants issue this time," Alyce muttered, and all three adults laughed, Torey grabbing at his shoulder once he did. Hopefully his pain medication worked soon.
Alexa, smart child she was, looked at Alyce and repeated, "Pants issue?"
"No," Sam said hastily, "you don't need to know about the pants issue."
"Agreed," Alyce said, and looked at the older kids. "Done with your homework?"
"Almost," Jacob answered. "Dad, are you gonna be okay?"
"I absolutely am," he said. "Promise. Come here."
Jacob did, and Torey managed a one-armed hug, and then Alexa wanted one, and she smiled and gave him a kiss. Peter and Chris were next, and then Alyce said, "Okay, let's give your dad a little time to rest, guys. Jacob, Alexa, you two can finish your homework and then join Chris, Peter, and me in the playroom, how's that sound?"
The kids cooperated as Alyce herded them out of the room, and Eileen gave her a grateful look. She truly was indispensable.
"How are you feeling, honey?" she asked Torey. "Painkillers starting to work yet?"
"Yeah, they are. I'm pretty sure I owe both Emilio and Alyce a raise at this point." Torey paused a second. "Definitely Emilio."
"Considering you're not dead," Sam said, "I'm going to agree." He sighed and joined Torey on the bed. "Please don't get hurt again."
Eileen gave Sam a look. "How many times have I tried that with you?"
"The difference is that I'm not sleeping with you," Sam pointed out.
Eileen shook her head and also sat on the bed, on Torey's other side. "I do have to agree, though," she said to him. "Please don't get hurt again."
"Believe me, I prefer to avoid it," Torey said. He kissed her, then Sam.
"It did help my shoulder to sleep sitting up," Sam said. "What's going to be best for you?"
"Upright pulls on it. Probably laying down."
"Eileen, how much do you move in your sleep?" Sam asked, looking past Torey.
"Not much. I had babies sleep with me some nights."
"It should be okay," Torey said. "This bed can manage three people."
"Look at that, Eileen," Sam said. "He finally figured out a way to get us all in bed together."
Eileen laughed. "Not quite what he might've hoped for, I'm guessing."
"I hoped for no such thing," Torey said. "I don't think Sam could get an erection when there's a naked woman."
"Hey!" Sam grinned. "If I kept my eyes closed, it would be okay."
"I would be offended if I didn't know you're as gay as Alyce." Eileen ran her nails through Torey's hair, looking over at Sam. "I'll make dinner if you keep the kids occupied."
"What a burden," Sam said, his grin broadening.
She smiled, then turned to Torey. "Do you need anything before I start dinner and Sam takes over with the kids?"
"Could someone bring me my phone? David's probably going to call soon, Is too, and I want to have it nearby."
"I'll get it." Sam stood and left the room, closing the door most of the way behind him—an obvious gesture to give them a private moment, which she appreciated.
"Oh, honey. You had us worried, you know that?" She leaned in and kissed him softly.
"I know." He took her hand. "I'm sorry about that. I love you."
Eileen kissed him again and mustered a smile. "I love you too. Especially when you stay in one piece."
"I like staying that way too."
When Sam returned with Torey's phone a few moments later, she smiled at him and headed for the kitchen, leaving them to have their own private moment.
Rosemary and white wine baked chicken breasts, she decided, with homemade rice pilaf and a spinach salad. That would keep her sufficiently busy—and her mind sufficiently off her shot husband.
Shaking her head clear of the thought, she got to work.
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sorry for typos and short, sleepy kitty on arm
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Haha, 'scool, we all understand how that goes. =P
Thanks!
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Thanks!