[fic] Zhombies of London | 32
This -- someone hold me. I think this is the penultimate chapter. D:
Mia and Kon made their way upstairs to chaos. Enough time had passed that the Foundation members had arrived and were attempting to take charge of the situation. Cobblepot's men were relieved of their weapons, and Kon caught sight of Grayson conferring with a man in a long, black coat what measures could be taken against them.
"Even if we can't prove it, Cobblepot's actions were tantamount to treason," the young man was arguing. "He attacked the palace."
"A wave of zhombies attacked the palace," the man returned. His back was to Kon, but his voice was very familiar. "There's nothing to link what happened there with Cobblepot. There's no case we could bring against him that would hold up in court --"
"A human court, perhaps." Dent, recovered from the spell, joined them. "But not ours. He has broken our laws, abused our trust -- give him to us."
There were shouts of agreement from the recovering crowd -- and what a crowd it was. They'd already bared claw, teeth and fang, all the marks of their unearthly nature -- now they'd gone a step further, letting their darkness appear, plain for all to see. Cobblepot, caged, drew back worriedly.
Kon turned away.
"There's Bart," Mia said. "And Miss Fite. They don't look happy."
"No," Kon agreed with a sinking feeling. "They do not."
Drake was alone in still lying unconscious on the dance floor. Bart knelt by his side, so focused on Drake's still form that he didn't even appear to have noticed Kon and Mia's presence.
"Dis isn't good," Anita informed them in a whisper. "De others -- well, dey had dere magics to sustain dem. Drake is only human -- de spell fed on his very life."
"Is he going to be okay?" Kon asked and Anita shook her head.
"I don't know. Voduin having an effect such as dis -- it's anyone's guess."
"Tim's going to be all right," Bart said flatly. "He made a promise."
Kon bit his lip and knelt to Drake's side. Bart and Anita had already thought of removing the elements of his disguise that might have prevented him from breathing, and Kon fancied he saw improvement. "His breathing sounds more natural," he assured Bart. "And I think he's gained some colour --"
"Step away from him," Grayson had arrived, with him the man in black.
Bart unconsciously gripped Kon's arm as they conducted their own examination of Drake in silence. After several tense minutes they stood, lifting Drake's form between them.
"Where are you taking him?" Bart demanded sounding almost panicked.
Grayson spared him a glare. "Don't you think you've done enough tonight?"
His companion silenced him with a look. "He'll receive the finest medical opinion that London can provide," the man who could only be the Director told Bart, his tone more reprimanding than reassuring. "The Foundation looks after it's own."
Bart was sufficiently daunted not to brave any further questions, at least until they reached the entranceway, where the coach that had carried them to the Ball stood waiting.
"Can't I --" he began, watching as Grayson handed Drake up into the coach and took up the Driver's seat.
"No," the Director answered. "And any attempt on your part at seeing him until such time as we allow it will be regarded as acting in a way detrimental to Drake's recovery, something we will take every pain to prevent." He nodded to Grayson. "Drive on."
Kon belatedly realised that this left them without transport. "Wait," he said. "Please. Miss Dearden's health -- you mustn't --"
He was ignored.
"De Foundation looks out for it's own," Anita said. "But dat's all it looks out for."
Mia squeezed Kon's arm. "Don't trouble yourself on my part," she said. "Anita and I took Ollie's carriage here. I can drive back myself."
Although she sounded assured, she was beginning to show sign of fatigue. Kon shook his head. "Nonsense," he said. "Come on, we'll take you home."
Anita and Bart talked in low voices in the body of the trap, and Mia rested her head against Kon's shoulder as he guided the horses through London's streets. Although the position left her more exposed to the cool night air, she'd chosen it over remaining in the cab.
"You'll catch a chill," Kon chided her, keeping his voice low enough that Anita and Bart wouldn't hear them.
"What does it matter if I do?" Mia responded in kind. "Each change takes more out of me. The next full moon will be my last."
"I'm sorry," Kon said miserably. "If I'd known -- I wouldn't have presumed."
"That's precisely why I didn't tell you," Mia said. "Can you forgive a woman's weak impulse? I wanted to be loved before I died -- even a little."
Kon said nothing, but gathered the reins in one hand, so he could slip the other around Mia's waist. She didn't protest.
"You're a good man, Kon."
"You can say that, even knowing --"
"A vampyre's not something many can withstand," Mia said softly, against Kon's neck. "You gave yourself for others. I ... I was willing to give myself for money, for bare survival ... a factory wage isn't enough to live on," she whispered. "And I was alone. They said that earning a wage between the sheets was easier work than standing at the machines making them. As it happened, my first customer didn't want a girl, he wanted a meal."
"Were?" Kon asked, feeling sick.
"I managed to escape but the virus had been passed on. He wasn't too happy neither at me getting away, made it his business to hunt me -- that's when I came to Ollie's attention. The rest is, as they say, history." Mia sighed, pulling herself upright as they drew up in front of Lord Queen's residence. "Kon, I can only imagine what you think of me now. I only hope that you'll forgive me for keeping my past from you this long --"
Kon didn't reply. He was too busy kissing her.
"I believe the idea behind leaving you here, Mia, was that it would be restful," Lord Queen said, as the four of them stood in his drawing room, having just concluded the summary of the night's events.
"I have to admit that I'm more than ready to call it a night," Mia confessed, smothering a yawn. "By your leave."
"We should get going too," Kon said. "I think it's been a long night for all of us."
"It'll be light before you get home. Much more sensible for you to spend the night here," Ollie decided.
"I'm not sure," Kon started, but Anita decided things.
"No use trying t' meet curfew now," she said. "It's very kind of you to offer, Lord Queen."
"One of King-Smith's girl's? I'll let her know where you are before she alerts Scotland Yard to your disapearance," Ollie said. "Connor'll show you to your rooms. Bart, Conner, too young trouble makers such as yourselves would have no objection to sharing a room?"
"None at all," Kon assured him. The prospect of any bed was enough, and he was concerned about Bart.
Bart was moody and silent, only kicking off his boats, tie and dress coat before climbing between the blankets.
Kon bit his lip, settling on the bed in his shirt and pants. The Vampyre was still vivid in his mind, but he could find little in common between the memory of that unsettling touch and Bart now. "Bart?" he asked. "Are you ... ?"
"They didn't just use our strengths to power their zhombies," Bart said softly. "They took our minds as well. I'm remembering ... being inside the zhombie, directing it and being directed in turn -- it hurt people."
Kon hesitated, then patted his shoulder. "Cobblepot hurt people -- you didn't."
"I know. But I still feel culpable," Bart sighed. "Tim ... Tim would know how to put it right. But Tim's ..."
"You heard what the Director said. Best medical care in London."
"I know what he said. But it doesn't seem real. Too much happened too quickly -- the only thing I can remember is Tim so still ..."
It seemed safe to assume that Bart didn't remember what had happened. Kon sighed, patting Bart's hair. "He'll be fine. Drake's nothing, if not an obstinate bastard. Do you really think he's going to let us live tonight down?"
Bart didn't smile. "Thank you, Kon."
He was gone by the time Kon made it downstairs the next morning.
"Two pots of coffee, both with your name on it -- you can't say I'm not good to you, mon."
Kon had drunk enough coffee to be aware that Anita was more than usually cheerful. "You're in good spirits."
"I've had some good news, mon. You're looking at a liberated woman."
"Liberated?"
"Expelled from de finishing school. My trunks will be sent round some time dis morning, and I've wired Father to arrange tickets for me on the next steamship out of here. I'm going home -- and not a moment too soon."
This was a blow. "You're leaving?" Kon asked, forgetting coffee in his dismay.
"Oh, Kon. I will miss you -- but you're a big enough boy to take care of yourself. Or -- you could come with me. Finish your thesis on de boat, present it in person to Professor Harper when we dock."
It was a tempting prospect -- but Kon shook his head. "I can't," he said.
Anita didn't press him. "It's gonna be a long voyage without you, mon. But I'll survive."
"You're welcome to stay here till your ship leaves," Lord Queen told Anita. "You too, Conner. With Drake ill, you won't want to intrude."
Kon nodded. "I was wondering what I should do," he admitted. "But I'd like to consult Mrs Mac first. She hasn't heard what's happened yet."
As it happened, Kon was incorrect.
"The Foundation rang to let me know the young master was recovering from a serious injury," Drake's housekeeper told Kon, over a cup of tea. "Didn't say why or how, of course, but they expect he'll be home within the week."
"That's good news," Kon said with feeling. "And what will you do in the meantime?"
"Carry on as usual," Mrs Drake said. "I'm not about to let young Timothy come home to an empty house, you know. All the same, it will be quiet."
"Lord Queen's invited me to stay at his residence," Kon said cautiously. "I don't want to be a burden, and with Drake needing to recover --"
"Nonsense -- you, a burden? I've half a mind to let that Lord know what I think of his invitation," Mrs Mac snorted scornfully. "No, Mr Kent, you're staying where you are."
So that settled that.
Kon called at Bart's apartment several times, but his friend was not home -- and Kon had even broken in to check. The apartment showed signs of being lived in, but nothing that would point him towards Bart.
It was night, four days after the ball, when he came back. Kon was trying not to think about how tired Mia had been that afternoon by working on his thesis, but chapter four was a struggle from start to finish, and he heard the window shut as clearly as if it had been in his room. Mrs Mac had gone to bed hours since, and Kon followed the sound upstairs, ready to investigate.
"Bart?"
"Kon!" Bart looked surprised -- and not a little guilty. He'd curled up in Drake's bed, and -- if Kon wasn't mistaken -- had helped himself to Drake's nightshirt in the process. "I didn't know you were here still --"
"Keeping Mrs Mac company." Kon shut the door behind him and placed his candle on Drake's bedside. "Bart --"
"I miss him," Bart started defensively. "Maybe it's foolhardy and weak but I -- I need him."
"I know," Kon said, sitting on the bed. "Come here."
Bart was ready to curl up against Kon's side without a second thought."Tell me again how obstinate he is?"
Kon snorted, stroking Bart's hair. "You know that better than anyone," he said. "After all, I'm not the one who's in l -- who feels for the man."
"You meant to say love," Bart accused. "That's how different we are. Tim and I -- we'd never dream of using the word."
Kon remembered an old pain. "Never?"
"Love's for people who aren't like us," said Bart. "Wrong. I've never been quite good enough and ... I don't know when it happened, but someone broke Tim too. You -- sometimes I want to drag you down to our level, make you just as wrong. Others -- I don't want you to change, ever. You're still so -- naive."
"You flatter me," said Kon unimpressed, but Bart sat up to look at him properly.
"It's a good thing," he said. "I can't really explain it. You -- I hope you're never broken."
Kon thought it might be too late.
"Another time, another place," Bart said, resting his head against Kon's side again. "I might have used the word love on you."
"Another time, another place, I might have used it back," Kon said, settling back against the head board.
"You'll make Mia happy?"
"I'll do all I can," Kon said seriously. "I trust you'll stop Drake's head from getting too big for his shoulders?"
The smile Bart flashed him was brilliant.
Mia and Kon made their way upstairs to chaos. Enough time had passed that the Foundation members had arrived and were attempting to take charge of the situation. Cobblepot's men were relieved of their weapons, and Kon caught sight of Grayson conferring with a man in a long, black coat what measures could be taken against them.
"Even if we can't prove it, Cobblepot's actions were tantamount to treason," the young man was arguing. "He attacked the palace."
"A wave of zhombies attacked the palace," the man returned. His back was to Kon, but his voice was very familiar. "There's nothing to link what happened there with Cobblepot. There's no case we could bring against him that would hold up in court --"
"A human court, perhaps." Dent, recovered from the spell, joined them. "But not ours. He has broken our laws, abused our trust -- give him to us."
There were shouts of agreement from the recovering crowd -- and what a crowd it was. They'd already bared claw, teeth and fang, all the marks of their unearthly nature -- now they'd gone a step further, letting their darkness appear, plain for all to see. Cobblepot, caged, drew back worriedly.
Kon turned away.
"There's Bart," Mia said. "And Miss Fite. They don't look happy."
"No," Kon agreed with a sinking feeling. "They do not."
Drake was alone in still lying unconscious on the dance floor. Bart knelt by his side, so focused on Drake's still form that he didn't even appear to have noticed Kon and Mia's presence.
"Dis isn't good," Anita informed them in a whisper. "De others -- well, dey had dere magics to sustain dem. Drake is only human -- de spell fed on his very life."
"Is he going to be okay?" Kon asked and Anita shook her head.
"I don't know. Voduin having an effect such as dis -- it's anyone's guess."
"Tim's going to be all right," Bart said flatly. "He made a promise."
Kon bit his lip and knelt to Drake's side. Bart and Anita had already thought of removing the elements of his disguise that might have prevented him from breathing, and Kon fancied he saw improvement. "His breathing sounds more natural," he assured Bart. "And I think he's gained some colour --"
"Step away from him," Grayson had arrived, with him the man in black.
Bart unconsciously gripped Kon's arm as they conducted their own examination of Drake in silence. After several tense minutes they stood, lifting Drake's form between them.
"Where are you taking him?" Bart demanded sounding almost panicked.
Grayson spared him a glare. "Don't you think you've done enough tonight?"
His companion silenced him with a look. "He'll receive the finest medical opinion that London can provide," the man who could only be the Director told Bart, his tone more reprimanding than reassuring. "The Foundation looks after it's own."
Bart was sufficiently daunted not to brave any further questions, at least until they reached the entranceway, where the coach that had carried them to the Ball stood waiting.
"Can't I --" he began, watching as Grayson handed Drake up into the coach and took up the Driver's seat.
"No," the Director answered. "And any attempt on your part at seeing him until such time as we allow it will be regarded as acting in a way detrimental to Drake's recovery, something we will take every pain to prevent." He nodded to Grayson. "Drive on."
Kon belatedly realised that this left them without transport. "Wait," he said. "Please. Miss Dearden's health -- you mustn't --"
He was ignored.
"De Foundation looks out for it's own," Anita said. "But dat's all it looks out for."
Mia squeezed Kon's arm. "Don't trouble yourself on my part," she said. "Anita and I took Ollie's carriage here. I can drive back myself."
Although she sounded assured, she was beginning to show sign of fatigue. Kon shook his head. "Nonsense," he said. "Come on, we'll take you home."
Anita and Bart talked in low voices in the body of the trap, and Mia rested her head against Kon's shoulder as he guided the horses through London's streets. Although the position left her more exposed to the cool night air, she'd chosen it over remaining in the cab.
"You'll catch a chill," Kon chided her, keeping his voice low enough that Anita and Bart wouldn't hear them.
"What does it matter if I do?" Mia responded in kind. "Each change takes more out of me. The next full moon will be my last."
"I'm sorry," Kon said miserably. "If I'd known -- I wouldn't have presumed."
"That's precisely why I didn't tell you," Mia said. "Can you forgive a woman's weak impulse? I wanted to be loved before I died -- even a little."
Kon said nothing, but gathered the reins in one hand, so he could slip the other around Mia's waist. She didn't protest.
"You're a good man, Kon."
"You can say that, even knowing --"
"A vampyre's not something many can withstand," Mia said softly, against Kon's neck. "You gave yourself for others. I ... I was willing to give myself for money, for bare survival ... a factory wage isn't enough to live on," she whispered. "And I was alone. They said that earning a wage between the sheets was easier work than standing at the machines making them. As it happened, my first customer didn't want a girl, he wanted a meal."
"Were?" Kon asked, feeling sick.
"I managed to escape but the virus had been passed on. He wasn't too happy neither at me getting away, made it his business to hunt me -- that's when I came to Ollie's attention. The rest is, as they say, history." Mia sighed, pulling herself upright as they drew up in front of Lord Queen's residence. "Kon, I can only imagine what you think of me now. I only hope that you'll forgive me for keeping my past from you this long --"
Kon didn't reply. He was too busy kissing her.
"I believe the idea behind leaving you here, Mia, was that it would be restful," Lord Queen said, as the four of them stood in his drawing room, having just concluded the summary of the night's events.
"I have to admit that I'm more than ready to call it a night," Mia confessed, smothering a yawn. "By your leave."
"We should get going too," Kon said. "I think it's been a long night for all of us."
"It'll be light before you get home. Much more sensible for you to spend the night here," Ollie decided.
"I'm not sure," Kon started, but Anita decided things.
"No use trying t' meet curfew now," she said. "It's very kind of you to offer, Lord Queen."
"One of King-Smith's girl's? I'll let her know where you are before she alerts Scotland Yard to your disapearance," Ollie said. "Connor'll show you to your rooms. Bart, Conner, too young trouble makers such as yourselves would have no objection to sharing a room?"
"None at all," Kon assured him. The prospect of any bed was enough, and he was concerned about Bart.
Bart was moody and silent, only kicking off his boats, tie and dress coat before climbing between the blankets.
Kon bit his lip, settling on the bed in his shirt and pants. The Vampyre was still vivid in his mind, but he could find little in common between the memory of that unsettling touch and Bart now. "Bart?" he asked. "Are you ... ?"
"They didn't just use our strengths to power their zhombies," Bart said softly. "They took our minds as well. I'm remembering ... being inside the zhombie, directing it and being directed in turn -- it hurt people."
Kon hesitated, then patted his shoulder. "Cobblepot hurt people -- you didn't."
"I know. But I still feel culpable," Bart sighed. "Tim ... Tim would know how to put it right. But Tim's ..."
"You heard what the Director said. Best medical care in London."
"I know what he said. But it doesn't seem real. Too much happened too quickly -- the only thing I can remember is Tim so still ..."
It seemed safe to assume that Bart didn't remember what had happened. Kon sighed, patting Bart's hair. "He'll be fine. Drake's nothing, if not an obstinate bastard. Do you really think he's going to let us live tonight down?"
Bart didn't smile. "Thank you, Kon."
He was gone by the time Kon made it downstairs the next morning.
"Two pots of coffee, both with your name on it -- you can't say I'm not good to you, mon."
Kon had drunk enough coffee to be aware that Anita was more than usually cheerful. "You're in good spirits."
"I've had some good news, mon. You're looking at a liberated woman."
"Liberated?"
"Expelled from de finishing school. My trunks will be sent round some time dis morning, and I've wired Father to arrange tickets for me on the next steamship out of here. I'm going home -- and not a moment too soon."
This was a blow. "You're leaving?" Kon asked, forgetting coffee in his dismay.
"Oh, Kon. I will miss you -- but you're a big enough boy to take care of yourself. Or -- you could come with me. Finish your thesis on de boat, present it in person to Professor Harper when we dock."
It was a tempting prospect -- but Kon shook his head. "I can't," he said.
Anita didn't press him. "It's gonna be a long voyage without you, mon. But I'll survive."
"You're welcome to stay here till your ship leaves," Lord Queen told Anita. "You too, Conner. With Drake ill, you won't want to intrude."
Kon nodded. "I was wondering what I should do," he admitted. "But I'd like to consult Mrs Mac first. She hasn't heard what's happened yet."
As it happened, Kon was incorrect.
"The Foundation rang to let me know the young master was recovering from a serious injury," Drake's housekeeper told Kon, over a cup of tea. "Didn't say why or how, of course, but they expect he'll be home within the week."
"That's good news," Kon said with feeling. "And what will you do in the meantime?"
"Carry on as usual," Mrs Drake said. "I'm not about to let young Timothy come home to an empty house, you know. All the same, it will be quiet."
"Lord Queen's invited me to stay at his residence," Kon said cautiously. "I don't want to be a burden, and with Drake needing to recover --"
"Nonsense -- you, a burden? I've half a mind to let that Lord know what I think of his invitation," Mrs Mac snorted scornfully. "No, Mr Kent, you're staying where you are."
So that settled that.
Kon called at Bart's apartment several times, but his friend was not home -- and Kon had even broken in to check. The apartment showed signs of being lived in, but nothing that would point him towards Bart.
It was night, four days after the ball, when he came back. Kon was trying not to think about how tired Mia had been that afternoon by working on his thesis, but chapter four was a struggle from start to finish, and he heard the window shut as clearly as if it had been in his room. Mrs Mac had gone to bed hours since, and Kon followed the sound upstairs, ready to investigate.
"Bart?"
"Kon!" Bart looked surprised -- and not a little guilty. He'd curled up in Drake's bed, and -- if Kon wasn't mistaken -- had helped himself to Drake's nightshirt in the process. "I didn't know you were here still --"
"Keeping Mrs Mac company." Kon shut the door behind him and placed his candle on Drake's bedside. "Bart --"
"I miss him," Bart started defensively. "Maybe it's foolhardy and weak but I -- I need him."
"I know," Kon said, sitting on the bed. "Come here."
Bart was ready to curl up against Kon's side without a second thought."Tell me again how obstinate he is?"
Kon snorted, stroking Bart's hair. "You know that better than anyone," he said. "After all, I'm not the one who's in l -- who feels for the man."
"You meant to say love," Bart accused. "That's how different we are. Tim and I -- we'd never dream of using the word."
Kon remembered an old pain. "Never?"
"Love's for people who aren't like us," said Bart. "Wrong. I've never been quite good enough and ... I don't know when it happened, but someone broke Tim too. You -- sometimes I want to drag you down to our level, make you just as wrong. Others -- I don't want you to change, ever. You're still so -- naive."
"You flatter me," said Kon unimpressed, but Bart sat up to look at him properly.
"It's a good thing," he said. "I can't really explain it. You -- I hope you're never broken."
Kon thought it might be too late.
"Another time, another place," Bart said, resting his head against Kon's side again. "I might have used the word love on you."
"Another time, another place, I might have used it back," Kon said, settling back against the head board.
"You'll make Mia happy?"
"I'll do all I can," Kon said seriously. "I trust you'll stop Drake's head from getting too big for his shoulders?"
The smile Bart flashed him was brilliant.