The Apple Orchard {Arc Three; Part Three

[ashintuku]

A week before Christmas, Allen found himself with too many bloody gangsters to deal with by himself, and so he brought in trusted reinforcements.

Liam Donovan was good at what he did, and a good friend of Allen’s. Well, perhaps ‘friend’ was a bit of a strong word, seeing as the two only ever saw one another at work or work functions. ‘Acquaintance’ seemed to be more appropriate. But the point of the matter was that Liam was good at what he did, and what he did was surgery.

Meaning he had the steadiest hands in the hospital and could stitch up anyone without fear of hurting them. This was why Allen called on his assistance.

“So what you’re telling me,” Liam started, walking towards a building that had no markings, from address to even signs of life inside, with Allen, holding his medical bag and rubbing the rest of the sleep residue out of his eyes, “is that you want me to give stitches to…how many men?”

“O-only three,” Allen said softly, tugging nervously on his jacket sleeve and wondering how Liam would survive this ordeal. Zebediah always joked about killing people who knew too much about him and his association with the doctor, but Allen couldn’t help but remember Mitch Macgowan and how he had ended up.

“And what were these three men doing that they need immediate medical attention…from me…outside of the hospital?”

“P-please, Liam,” Allen muttered, knocking against the door and waiting for the sound of the lock sliding out of place to sound before twisting the knob, “I can’t a-answer your questions.”

“That’s what worries me.”

The two doctors fell silent once they were through the door, Allen closing it soundlessly behind him and making his way to where Zebediah and his lost were staying in the safe house. Allen knew this safe house the best, as it had been the one he had gone to the most. It was the closest to the Apple Orchard, tucked away in an old abandoned factory building that used to put together guns before the war ended.

Just like so many places that had dedicated their services to the war effort, the factory had closed down and hundreds of people had lost their jobs once peace was settled on November 11, 1918. It had been abandoned for years; what was, until Zebediah Walker made use of it.

Walking through a doorway into what was once a locker room, Allen walked ahead towards The reclined figure of Ezekiel Walker holding a wad of bandages to his shoulder, looking at the ceiling and quietly talking to himself. He knelt beside the younger Walker, brushing back his too long hair to try and give him some comfort before moving the bandages away to inspect the damage. He winced when he saw it was still bleeding, though sluggishly.

“L-Liam, I didn’t want to r-r-risk pulling out the b-bullet myself, my hands s-shake too much. Could you come here and - Liam?” Allen looked over to see Liam standing by the doorway, his eyes wide and staring straight at the figure sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall and looking at him flatly.

Zebediah Walker held his ruined shirt to his side, which had once again gotten a bullet ripped through it. Beside him, making sure he wouldn’t bleed out and ignoring a nasty cut on his own forehead, was Aiden Wolfe.

It was really quite the scene for a man to walk into.

“So…those rumours about you being close to the Walkers are true, huh?”

“Feel f-free to ask me all of your questions l-l-later, Liam, first I need you to r-remove the bullet from Ezekiel’s shoulder while I t-take care of Mister Wolfe’s h-head wound.”

Shaken out of his stupor, the surgeon stepped forward and both doctors went to work patching up the gangsters, Allen making quiet comments to Aiden or Zebediah while Liam worked silently, Ezekiel in too much pain to actually make any attempt at friendly conversation. When Allen moved to look over Zebediah’s side, the gangster grabbed onto his wrist, eyes narrowing on the older man suspiciously.

“What’s with the new face?”

“He’ a f-friend,” Allen said softly, tugging his arm out of Zeb’s grip and removing the shirt from Zebediah’s side, biting his tongue and wincing at the wound. “W-what did I ask you to d-d-do before?”

“Sometimes a guy can’t help but get shot at,” Zebediah grumbled, rolling his shoulder and groaning when it stretched his side, blood freshly oozing out to slide along freckled-and-scared skin easily. Allen shook his head, looking over to see Liam crouching down next to him, his hands covered in blood and his expression carefully blank. “Evenin’, doc. Sorry we had to meet under these rather unfortunate circumstances. Not quite copacetic.”

“…Indeed not,” Liam said flatly, shaking his head and moving to kneel by the wounded side. “The bullet still in this one?”

“Nah, it was a through-and-through,” Zeb shrugged, wincing when Liam prodded at his side and glaring at him uneasily, “so, you a gentle-handed doctor?”

“I’ve been told I can be. It all depends on if I like the patient.”

Allen rolled his eyes, standing up and leaving Liam to his work, assisting Aiden to a bench so that he could sit down and rest for a moment. Sitting down next to him, seeing as he was the most readily-available of the gangsters for talking, Allen folded his hands over his lap and waited. If he waited for long enough, Aiden was sure to start talking -

“It was a bunch of Gray’s men,” the man started, his accent a mumble of marbles and consonants. Allen was pretty good at understanding the words coming out of his mouth these days. “And a lady. ‘Er name, I don’ know - bu’ I sho’ her ‘fore she could ge’ away. She go’ bossman. T’men…one was Dick Schlage.” Aiden shook his head, ruffling up the springy curls that had fallen out of their styling. “T’other was jus’ a boy. Prob’ly hadn’ even ‘ad ‘is firs’ beer, ye’.”

“And him…?”

“Bossman go’ ‘im in the leg. He ran off, bu’…I don’ think ‘e made i’.” Pressing his hands against his eyes, he took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, moving his hands so that he could twist his ring around his finger. “Gray’s a son of a bitch, doc,” Aiden muttered softly, turning to look at him with serious brown eyes. “Sendin’ kids out t’deal with fellas like Zebediah Walker. Bossman don’ do mercy, no’ when ‘e’s bein’ sho’ at.”

“…N-no,” Allen said softly, turning away from Aiden and standing up to see how Ezekiel was faring. “No I don’t suppose he d-does.”
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Christmas passed quietly, Allen spending the holiday with Richard in the morning and with Zebediah in the evening. The doctor explained a few things to the surgeon after that night in the safe house, being reassured that Liam wouldn’t tell a soul of the Townsend’s connection with the criminal side of Westfield - and so far, the other doctor had been as good as his word.

A young man named Bruce Hayward had come into the hospital a day after Zebediah’s skirmish with Thomas Gray’s men (and lady). He died in the hospital, bleeding out and too tired to try and hold on. A day later, the body of Kim Robinson was found in an alleyway, covered by a coat with a bullet-hole in the chest.

Zebediah didn’t say anything, but then again he didn’t have to.

It was New Year’s Eve, and the Apple Orchard was packed with regulars and newcomers alike. Drinks were flowing, both Priscilla and Kaelan were singing on the stage, and Chance and Wesley would switch off on piano whenever one of them needed a break.

Adiel had come, glammed up in gold and black and looking as grown-up as could be with her bobbed hair and her pretty beaded headband. Her guardian Gawain was there, as well, dressed up in a fancy suit and looking perfectly comfortable sitting at a table and patting his hands to the beat of the music he could feel; and unfamiliar man with bushy eyebrows who Ellie practically clung to when he arrived sat next to Gawain, talking to him slowly so that the deaf man could read what he was trying to say. He seemed content with the situation.

Laughing breathlessly, Allen twirled Rachel around, her glitzy frock of red and white shining under the dim lights of the dance hall. She fell into his chest coming back, clinging to his shoulders and giggling to the point where she was almost only making squeaking noises, before pushing back and looking up at Allen.

“Care for a drink, old boy?”

“Y-yes, I think I would.”

Grinning, Rachel hooked her arm through Allen’s and guided the both of them to the bar in the back, crowded as it was. Randy was using his little brother Laurie for help - a big man with wide shoulders and a voice like an angel’s. Yet he liked bootlegging the bootleg more than singing on a stage, so he kept to the grunt work, amusing his comrades with his ditties and jingles whenever they went for a run.

“Be just a mo’, doc, Rach!” Randy called over his shoulder, passing out four glasses of hard liquor before plopping a glass of iced tea into Ellie’s reaching hand. “Don’t think you can fool me, Miss Ellie-belly - I’m watchin’ out for your tricks.” Ellie pouted, sticking her tongue out at Randy before looking over to see Allen and Rachel, smiling brightly.

“Hi Allen!” she greeted, hugging onto his waist with one arm and standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’m gonna be over with Gawain and Gerry, okay? I think Zebby’s lookin’ for ya!” She disappeared soon as she delivered her message, blending into the crowd easily. Allen watched after her, only looking away once he saw her with the two men at the table, looking over at Randy and accepting a flute of champagne easily.

“I s-suppose the occasion d-does call for this, hm?” Allen smiled, lifting his flute in a salute before taking a swallow, closing his eyes at the bubbly liquid sliding down his tongue and throat. He looked over to see Rachel talking cozily to Cooper, who had paid off his debt once more and earned a black eye and a chipped tooth for his efforts. Shaking his head, the doctor slipped through the crowds, looking around for a familiar face. Yet instead of finding one, he was found by one.

“Lookin’ a bit lost there, doc,” Ezekiel greeted, wrapping an arm around Allen’s shoulders and freeing him from the crowd, walking over to Zebediah’s table. It was empty, but Allen had the feeling he was being led there for a purpose.

“O-oh, no, just…m-m-mingling,” Allen countered conversationally, sitting down when Ezekiel gestured he should. He placed his flute on the table, tapping at the glass carefully before looking up at Ezekiel with a small smile. “H-How’s the shoulder?”

“Better,” Ezekiel said with a sigh, rotating the injured shoulder and only flinching once at the tug of healed skin. “Your friend is really good at stitchin’ folks up.”

“I w-would certainly hope he was,” Allen said mildly, taking a sip of his drink to his hid amusement. “He is a s-surgeon, after all.” Ezekiel grinned, drumming fingertips on the table and humming along with the song Kaelan was currently singing. “A-are we expecting anyone?”

“No one important,” Ezekiel grinned, looking at someone behind Allen’s shoulder. The doctor smiled faintly when he felt heat at his back, barely jumping when a hand landed on his shoulder. Looking back and up at Zebediah, he quirked a brow while the gangster smirked back down at him.

“You can go now, ‘Zekiel, I’m sure the doctor is tired of your dreary conversation.”

“Oh, I w-wouldn’t say that,” Allen mused, looking away as Zebediah dropped himself into the seat next to Allen. Ezekiel quickly vacated his spot just as his chair tipped over, - no doubt due to Zebediah’s assistance - the younger walker giving Allen a nod before he disappeared back into the crowds, leaving the doctor alone with his criminal.

“You look ritzy tonight.”

“You think?” Allen glanced down at his suit - black with pinstripes, a dark blue tie that supposedly made his eyes stand out, and an elegant tie pin keeping it back. There was also a black waistcoat with a dark blue silk backing, but one could not see that underneath the buttoned jacket. His hair was styled as best as he could get it, fedora tipped back until it threatened to fall off his head just keeping over the loose curls. He thought he looked rather simple, really.

“Mmhm,” Zebediah voice was right next to his ear, making Allen twitch and lean away from him quietly - no need to give anyone any idea. “Ya dress up special for New Year’s? Or for someone special?”

“…” Allen looked over at Zeb, chewing on the inside of his cheek, before giving a sly little smile.

“N-New Year’s, of course - who would I d-d-dress specially for?”

Zebediah snorted, reaching over and grabbing Allen’s flute, downing the rest of it. Allen winced, shaking his head at the gangster’s crass manners, before taking a moment to realize what that moment just meant.

Zebediah only took drinks from Randy, or if he didn’t he had to have seen Randy give the other person to drink. Unless Zebediah had been watching the bar when Allen and Rachel had gone over to get their drinks, Zebediah wouldn’t have known that Allen had gotten it straight from Randy. Yet still he drank from it. He trusted Allen enough to drink from his glass.

The thought made him warm inside.

“Enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Oh, y-yes,” Allen nodded, tugging at a cuff and twiddling with a silver cufflink distractedly. “The, ah, the music is q-quite good tonight - Kaelan s-sober?”

“He will be until midnight. Then he can drink all he likes and more - Prissy will just take over for him.” Zebediah shrugged, leaning back in his chair and taking off his fedora, fanning himself with it quietly. It really was quite warm in the Orchard tonight. “Prissy’s a godsend, she really is. Dedicated to her work, a damn good singer, pretty to boot. Can’t think of what I would do without her. Deal with Kaelan’s bull, I guess.”

“Oh, Kaelan’s a g-good man,” Allen defended, taking off his hat as well and placing it on the table, running fingertips over the brim slowly. “I t-think he wants to do m-m-more with his life.”

“…Hm.” Zebediah narrowed his eyes on the singer as he sang into the microphone on stage, the band playing in time behind him. “…I’ll talk to ‘im about it. What’re your plans tonight?”

“Well,” Allen shifted, turning to face Zebediah a little. He crossed a leg, ankle atop knee, and tapped his foot against Zeb’s nearby thigh. Despite Zeb’s poker face, he could see the amusement in hazel-green eyes. “I was t-thinking…of s-s-spending the night somewhere. Y-you, ah, know of anywhere g-good?”

“I might.” Zebediah smirked, turning to face Allen and looking at him intently. “Got any preferences?”

“…S-somewhere I’ll f-find enjoyable company,” the doctor murmured, his smile softening. He glanced over to the stage when the song ended and Wesley switched out with Chance, suddenly thinking of something as he watched the thin young man make his way to the bar. He was a skittish man, with bright blue eyes and dark hair too long to be socially acceptable. He didn’t drink very much, preferring iced tea over alcohol, and he was always smiling thinly whenever Zebediah spoke to him.

Oh, that reminded him.

“Z-Zebediah, what had you s-spoken with Mister B-Blake the other day?”

“Hm?” Zebediah blinked lethargically, looking over to where Allen was looking and snorting when he caught sight of the pianist. “Oh, him. Just wanted to give Thomas Gray a message - which he must have done, I got shot in the side.”

“What did you say?” Allen asked, perplexed. Zebediah smiled, shaking his head, and Allen rolled his eyes, looking out at the dance floor again.

He watched as Ellie and Rachel danced together, the older woman spinning the younger girl around in circles, the two of them laughing. Cooper and Ezekiel were talking, propped up on the far wall, Ezekiel using big hand gestures and Cooper nodding along with him. He saw Colin slipping through the crowds, bringing empty glasses and trays of food and drink to each table, frazzled but pleased with himself. Priscilla glided through the crowds, dressed in white and gold and looking as glamourous as ever; Austin, her foreign friend, was sitting on a stool at the bar, drinking a glass of what appeared to be whiskey and grinning widely while Randy said something.

He watched the life of the club, feeling it pulse around him like a heartbeat and thinking to himself that he knew these people. That these were people he cared about.

That was a nice thing to have.

His thoughts were broken when the doors that led into the club were suddenly slammed open. Turning to see who was making such a commotion, Allen immediately lurched to his feet when he saw Tegan Hobbes standing there, shoulders hunched and expression haggard. His suit looked like it had seen a better night, his hat was missing, his hair was a tangled shock on the top of his head -

- but it was the blood dripping off of his hands that grabbed his attention.

“Hobbes, what in the hell happened?” Zeb called out, following after the doctor as the Townsend marched over to Tegan, taking hold of one of his hands and examining it for wounds. Tegan twitched and it looked like he was about to do something violent when Zebediah reached out, settling his arm and giving him a look that said ‘don’t try it’.

“…It’s not h-his blood,” Allen said softly, dropping his hand and fumbling for a handkerchief, walking around the scarecrow of a man to go find who was bleeding. He was grabbed and jerked back into the club, however, pushed against Zebediah’s chest by Tegan who promptly shut the doors behind him.

“Oi, Tegan, what’re you playin’ at?” Zebediah snapped, steadying Allen and squeezing his arms, silently asking if he was okay. The doctor nodded subtly, pulling himself away from Zebediah and stepping back to allow the two gangsters to talk. “Why’re you shuttin’ my doors? How’d you get by Aiden? He knows not to let even you down here without tellin’ me first.”

It was dead silent in the club, everyone turned to watch the spectacle that was the bloody Hobbes and the angered Walker. Wiping his forehead with the back of his forehead, Tegan shook his head and cleared his throat, attempting to say something. Colin edged towards him with a glass of water but the tall man denied it, closing his eyes and breathing deeply before exhaling loudly.

“Aiden’s been knocked out. That’s whose blood this is. I put him somewhere safe - looks like you’ve got a few unwanted visitors comin’ down tonight, Zebediah.”

“…Who?”

“Bulls.” Zebediah swore and Tegan grimaced, before continuing. “I grabbed the first couple who tried to sneak into the club after knocking Aiden out. They hit his recent head wound, it didn’t take much.” Allen pressed his lips together, twitching to go make sure they hadn’t reopened the man’s stitches. “There were only two, but their friends will notice when they don’t get back. You’ll need to get out of here. Now.”

No one moved for a moment, before suddenly everyone was moving at once, people pushing past one another trying to get to the exits. Zebediah dragged Allen to his side to make sure he didn’t get knocked around while shouting something to Ezekiel, who seemed to understand what he was saying. The taller Walker placed thumb and pinky into his mouth, then, and whistled shrilly, bringing everyone back to a sudden and complete stop.

“You want out of the Orchard, you’ll get out organized! There’ll be less blood that way! Those closest by the bar, use the exit there; those by the door, use the exit just outside. There’s another one by the stage for those of you panicking about that. Now move!”

Zebediah pulled out his Colt, turning to Ezekiel and pushing Allen towards him. “Get Doctor Townsend safely out of here -”

“Oh, no,” Allen shook his head, stepping back to Zebediah and Tegan and staring at the shorter of the two tensely. “I have to look at A-Aiden’s head.”

“Allen, you can do that after.”

“No,” Allen said fiercely, stepping right into Zebediah’s space and narrowing his eyes on him. “I have to look now.”

The two had a stare-down in the middle of the madness, Ezekiel waiting to see what would happen on one side and Tegan impatient to get moving on the other, before Zebediah sighed and pulled away, grabbing onto Allen’s arm and dragging him to his side.

“Fine, but for God’s sake, keep close to me,” he muttered darkly, checking his Colt to make sure it was loaded. He waved Ezekiel off, the younger cousin moving off to make sure everyone was getting out safely, before nodding to Tegan to lead the way.

They were walking through the hallway when shots were suddenly fired, whizzing by Tegan’s head and digging into the box behind them. Zeb pushed Allen behind a pile of boxes, diving in beside him while Tegan pressed his back against the cover and shot out at whoever was firing at them. Someone cried out, yelling out ‘officer down!’, telling them that their unwanted visitors had already broken in.

“Damn it,” Zebediah breathed, looking around as if he were rethinking his decision to let Allen come with them. One look at the doctor made him decide that no, his decision was fine, before turning back to Tegan. “Can you cover us?”

“Yeah,” Tegan nodded, peeking out from behind the boxes and ducking back when another shot was fired - their bull had a friend. “I might kill ‘em - I know you don’t like killin’ bulls.”

“I don’t like the problems it gives me,” Zebediah muttered, before nodding. “Fine, I don’t care if you kill ‘em. Just make sure they don’t kill us.”

Tegan snorted, before he leaned out again and shot at the officer looking out from their own cover, hitting him in the forehead. The officer dropped, Allen seeing the pool of blood from back where he was, before the three of them ran up the hallway. Zebediah shoved Allen behind another pile of boxes near to the spare room Zebediah and Allen had used last time to stitch up Zeb’s side, Tegan checking the stairwell to make it was safe.

He waved them over, the three of them climbing up the stairs slowly with their backs pressed against the wall. The trapdoor was open, leaving the entrance open to anyone who wanted to go in. Tegan popped his head out, ducking back down when shots were fired, before pulling up and shooting the two officers by the door - one in the neck, the other in the stomach. Both went down, the bull shot in the stomach groaning and curling up into a ball, before Tegan climbed out and pulled Allen out behind him, bloody hands slipping over Allen’s pale ivory.

“He’s in the main convenience store, in the ‘Staff Only’ room,” he whispered, moving to press his back against one of the tall boxes Aiden usually leaned back against. “Be careful, though, the bulls are scouring the entire building. Apparently they got a tip from an ‘anonymous source’ that something big was happenin’ tonight at the Orchard.”

“Thomas Gray?” Zebediah hissed, fingers twitching on Allen’s arm. Allen hissed, jerking his arm away from Zeb’s hold, but the gangster didn’t seem to notice him.

Tegan nodded, his expression tight. “That’s what I’m thinkin’,” he mumbled, before he looked out at the door and shot at another officer, forcing him back for cover. “Get to the main area, if you would please. Unless you’d like to watch me take more husbands away from their wives?”

Zebediah snorted, grabbing onto Allen again and rushing across the open space from Tegan’s hiding place to the boxes on the other side. Ducking behind those, they edged towards the door, Allen being pushed behind Zebediah as the freckled man leaned towards the door. He reached up, turning the knob and shoving the door open before pressing his back against the wall, waiting to see if anyone would come through or shoot at them. When nothing happened, Zebediah nodded for Allen to get over to him, the two of them slipping into the store.

Keeping to a crouch and hiding behind the shelves whenever they could, Zebediah led the way to the door that said ‘Staff Only’ on the other side of the main store. Looking around the corner of a shelf holding canned goods, Zebediah reeled back when a bullet sudden shot out at him, wincing when the bullet embedded itself into the shelf beside them. He leaned out again, firing once and ducking back, swearing.

“Z-Zeb…?”

“Shh,” Zebediah pressed a finger to his lips, narrowing his eyes at the opening between shelves. “Just a bull, I’ll get ‘im.”

Allen nodded, keeping to him that Zebediah didn’t want him to talk. He watched as he looked out from behind their cover again, shooting twice and smiling grimly when Allen heard the sound of something falling over. “Alright, let’s go,” Zebediah urged, reaching out for Allen’s arm again and dragging him across the opening. They ran all the way to the ‘Staff Only’ door, Zebediah looking around once more before pushing open the door that was already ajar, stepping inside. Allen followed shortly after, grimacing at what he saw.

Aiden was propped up on the couch that the staff room had, head wound bleeding and arms folded over his stomach. He was unconsciously, fortunately, and looked like he was merely sleeping. Allen didn’t like that the police had purposely hit the man on a head injury, however - head injuries were tricky, and Allen wasn’t sure what would happen.

“Get to lookin’ at him, then, I’ll watch the door,” Zebediah ordered, rolling his shoulder and keeping to the wall by the door, closing the door slowly with his foot until it was just a touch open like last time. Allen frowned at him, shaking his head before walking over to Aiden, kneeling beside him and turning his head so that he could look at the damage.

He was just checking his pupils to see if they were responsive when Zebediah swore. Turning to see what was happening, Allen’s eyes widened when he saw an officer bursting into the room, gun out to shoot.

Zebediah tackled the officer, knocking his gun out of his hand and tossing it to the side. It skidded to a stop at Allen’s foot, the doctor twitching away from it.

The two scuffled, Zebediah wrapping his fingers around the officer’s uniform jacket and ramming his back against the ground, trying to knock his head against the hard tile. The officer reached up, hands wrapping around his throat as he tried to overpower the gangster. They flipped at one point, Zebediah on his back and being strangled, hands pushing at the officer’s face, before he managed to elbow him in the jaw and shove him back to the ground, grabbing his face and slamming it back against the tile.

Allen watched as the two continued to struggle, overpowering one another continually. When the officer was the one on top, pressing his palm against the lower half of Zebediah’s face, a shot rang out and the bull froze, before falling over onto his side, Zebediah pushing him off. He wiped the blood that had sprayed onto his face and neck off when the bull had suffered a headshot, looking up to see Tegan staring down at him dryly.

“Enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Oh, dry up.”

Tegan rolled his eyes, looking over at Allen expectantly. The doctor froze under the harsh stare for a moment before shaking his head, turning back to Aiden.

“H-His vitals are still g-g-good…as is his b-breathing. And his s-stitches are still intact. He’ll be f-fine.” Nodding, confident in his assessment, he pulled back, looking over at Tegan. “…A-are we safe?”

“For now,” Tegan muttered, rolling his shoulders and looking out the open door to the main store area. “Hale called his men back when he realized more were dropping like flies than they were catchin’ rats. They grabbed what dead they could - we’ll deal with the rest. Everyone’s out of the Orchard. Ezekiel’s just outside with a report on damages and such.”

“Right,” Zebediah croaked, rubbing his throat and grabbing the fedora that had been knocked off during his brief tiff with the officer. He holstered the Colt, turning to Allen to see that he had settled himself down beside Aiden, determined not to move. “…Tegan, you stay with these two.”

“Didn’t even need to tell me,” the taller of the two pushed past Zebediah, leaning his back against the wall Zebediah had been propped on before, his eyes focused completely on Aiden. Certain that Tegan at least wouldn’t let anything happen to his doorman, and therefore his doctor, Zebediah left the staff room and walked over to Ezekiel, who was inspecting the freshly dead body of the officer Zeb had shot down.

“Messy night.”

“Happy New Year,” Ezekiel greeted with a grin, holding up his watch to show that it was, indeed, midnight. Zebediah snorted, shaking his head, before looking at Ezekiel expectantly.

“Well?”

“Everyone got out of the club, though a handful of people got bagged by the bulls and taken downtown. Only mortalities were coppers.” Ezekiel dropped the hand he was holding, tugging out his handkerchief and wiping his hand against it, before tossing it over the dead man’s face. “Bulls shot a couple of civilians - we’ve got one of those that got shot in the spare room downstairs.”

“We’ll get Allen to look ‘em over - any of our people get bagged?”

“I wouldn’t call him one of ours, per say…”

“Ezekiel.”

“They got Wesley.” Ezekiel pulled off his hat, ruffling his hair and frowning down at his shiny shoes. “Grabbed him soon as he stepped out of the exit - he was first, probably wantin’ to make sure he didn’t get caught. Too bad that’s what did him in.”

“Tch,” Zebediah snorted, looking over to the staff room to see Allen looking over Aiden again, double checking his vitals and his breathing. “Let ‘em cage the poor bastard - it’ll be a lesson to Gray.”

“Was he the one who sent the bulls on us?”

“That’s what Tegan’s thinkin’; therefore, that’s what I’m thinkin’. Makes sense, the man’s still pissed from what I said to him a few weeks ago. Why not send in an anonymously helpful tip and get my club ransacked? Bastard.”

“You think it wise to leave ‘em in the cages, though?” Ezekiel plopped his hat back onto his head, crossing his arms over his chest uncomfortably. “Thomas might try somethin’ even nastier if we don’t get ‘im out.”

“Oh, let the coward try it,” Zebediah adjusted his collar, turning back to the staff room intent on getting Allen out of the store and to his hotel for a peaceful start to the New Year. “He’s got nothin’ on me that he hasn’t already tried. Who d’ya want Allen to look over, our civilian got a name?”

“William Evans.”

Zebediah paused, looking over at Ezekiel with a flat look before smiling thinly. “Visitin’ old friends, are we ‘Zekiel?”

Ezekiel didn’t say anything, Zebediah grinning sharply at his silence, before drifting back into the staff room.

“Doc, how d’ya feel ‘bout lookin’ over a gigolo who got himself shot in the crossfire?”

Allen quirked a brow at his question before standing up; Zebediah led him out of the room with a nod to Tegan, drifting back down to the bottom level of the club and towards the spare room, the door open there. Allen walked in ahead of him, heading straight to the bed where a man was reclined.

He was a pretty man, and that was the only way to describe him with any justice. Fair hair and bright blue eyes when they were open, he was practically elegant; and Zebediah had called him ‘Ethel’ and ‘Nancy’ more times than he could count on fingers and toes. Ezekiel always gave him a hard time whenever he insulted the other man, but Zebediah never took it to heart.

A male prostitute had been called much worse, after all.

Allen looked at the arm that had gotten skimmed, examining the bloody wound critically before nodding. “N-No need for stitches, he just needs b-b-bandages and a g-good night’s rest.”

“I ain’t payin’ for him to get that here,” Zebediah said, pushing off the wall he had propped himself against. “The medical kit is still on the table, so you can bandage him up. I’ll go talk to ‘Zekiel to get his old friend here a room for the night.”

“W-what about Aiden?”

“Tegan will take care of ‘im,” Zeb waved his hand, waving away the concern and the problems that came with it. “He knows a place, and since he’s fine he won’t need your constant attention.” He turned to look at Allen, then, tilting his head to the side. “You still goin’ for those plans of yours earlier?”

Allen blinked, looking momentarily confused, before he gave a weak laugh and nodded, turning back to the medical kit and rifling through it for bandages. Grinning, Zebediah stepped out of the room, heading back upstairs to talk to Ezekiel.

It really wasn’t that bad of a way to start the New Year.