Chapter Text
The phone in Yor’s office gave a shrill ring. She finished the last calculation and scribbled out the numbers as she tucked the receiver between her ear and shoulder.
“Berlint City Hall, this is Yor Forger with Auditing.”
“Oh, Mrs. Forger I’m so sorry,” a young woman’s voice said, rushed and nervous by the second. “Your husband was in a terrible car accident on his way back from lunch. He’s stable but can you come to the Emergency department?”
An accident? Loid? “I’ll be right there!”
“Wait! Wait!” the nurse panicked just as Yor was about to hang up, already kicking off her work shoes for more practical ones.
“Yes?”
“Can we get your permission to do an X-ray?”
How bad had he been hit? Were ribs cracked? Yor’s mind was a flurry of bad omens and fears.
“Of course. Do whatever you need. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
Not even McMahon dared to question and stop Mrs. Forger from racing out of the building, barely remembering her purse and jacket in the process.
~
The ER department was buzzing in a controlled fashion, nurses and doctors weaving around equipment and patients. At the front desk, a woman flagged her down, sliding a clipboard across the counter to her as she approached.
“Can I see some quick ID to make sure you’re Dr. Forger’s wife?” she asked.
Of course, they’d ask for proof. “Yes, here,” Yor flipped open her wallet to show the nurse the name and address on the ID. “How is my husband?”
The redheaded woman shook her head and pushed a pen into her hands. “He said something about a car accident when we took him back.”
Yor filled out the form to the best of her knowledge, which wasn’t much. Most of it had been filled out already, probably due to his work there at the same hospital.
The form was given back, and the nurse pulled her back to the private rooms. In a quiet corner of the wing, Loid slept among white linens. There was road rash on his head, and she could see the hideous bruise that was starting to bloom on his chest, reaching across his sternum.
She got closer and saw the bandage wrapped around his right arm. It was heavily gauzed above his elbow.
“We think it was some shrapnel from the glass.” the nurse said, adjusting an IV drip while Yor cradled his hand in hers. “He’s lucky he made it here in time.”
Car glass didn’t act like that. Just one shard? Pressed deep into one small area? There should’ve been scratches all down his arm to have been glass from the impact.
She found his pile of clothes in a bag on the floor, cut open like fish to get to his body for triage. At the top of the fabric was his keychain, the two mascots- a peanut and the little Lorelei ship- scuffed and sad on the fabric.
I have to call Franky to pick up Anya from school.
A pair of footsteps, hurried and loud echoed closer in the hall. The Nurse frowned as a volunteer, all pink and white, poked her head into the room.
“Is Mrs. Forger here?”
Yor let Loid’s hand rest on the bed again, dread flooding her chest. “I’m Mrs. Forger.”
“Your brother’s name is Yuri right?”
No, please… Not Yuri…. “Yes.”
“He-” the girl gasped for breath, panting from the run. “He got admitted an hour ago and he still has you as an emergency contact, but the phone numbers weren’t updated-”
Loid would have to hang on just a little bit longer. Standing, she pressed a soft kiss to her husband’s forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
She joined the girl at the door, steeling herself for the worst.
The girl was quiet as she led Yor back to her brother. They went through two sets of fire doors before the girl opened a door in the long-term care unit.
It was hardly a place for an Emergency Patient. Especially if the ER department was not full.
It was making the hair on the back of her neck rise. Something was going on.
She palmed the folding knife she kept in her purse.
There was a threat here, isolated from the busy ER and sleepy long-term care ward.
“ Do you know what happened?” she asked the girl.
The two braids the girl had flopped in the air as she shook her head. “I don’t know. And the nurses won’t talk about it.”
Shoes clicked on the tile outside and the girl paled. “I have to go now, Miss. Have the rounds and all.”
Yor waved her off, taking in Yuri’s black eye and puffy face. There was already a lump on his temple and his hand was starting to bleed through the gauze they had wrapped around his knuckles. His chin was swollen and there was a deep scrape that was showing raw skin up to his lip.
His moaning was a good sign. And his head shifting side to side meant that his neck wasn’t broken.
She’d never been good at the triage part of raising Yuri. Either too much coddling or too little comfort.
Both her husband and her brother were terribly injured. And she wasn’t there to stop it.
The click of the closing door shot electricity down to her toes.
Someone dangerous was in the room with her.
They had no intent to kill.
No.
They were here to pry information.
“Oh! I hadn’t realized you’d get here so soon.” a masculine voice rumbled.
He was tall, blonde and when he faced her, he was oh so familiar.
It was the Lieutenant from the alley. The one who claimed she was an accessory to sending coded messages to the West. The one who threatened to bring her in for questioning.
The one who threatened her family.
The scars on his face warped with his smile, a bland thing that hid the fangs underneath. His hand was still in its black glove, showing just how seriously he took his job with the SSS.
His uniform was still crisp despite it being the afternoon and his boots reflected the lines on the wall with a mirror polish. The markings on his uniform had changed since the alley, perhaps a promotion?
That hand was extended to her and Yor held back a growl at the offense.
“Ah. You must be the lovely Yor.” he said, then leaned in closer, his gray eyes raking over her form. “Yuri has told us so much about you.”
The dots were so close together it would be laughable if she couldn’t put them together.
This man had something to do with Yuri’s injuries, she could feel it in her bones. He was too clean, too calm, and his hat shadowed his eyes from the exposing lights of the hospital.
She would be damned before her family got hurt again.
The handle of her knife was warm and solid in her grip and it was so easy to flip the well-oiled blade out.
“I thought I told you to stay away from my family you son of a bitch!” she growled, grazing his throat above his stiff collar.
Those taunting eyes blinked slowly before pouring calming words over her fury.
“Madam, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The words burned and bubbled and burst along her skin. He was lying.
“The alley, with your subordinate. You accused me of espionage. And I told you they were right upstanding men.” She slid closer, letting the blade slide against the stubble forming on his jugular. “ and I told you to stay away from my family!”
She must’ve telegraphed her next move because the lieutenant's other wrist cut between their two bodies and knocked her blade hand away.
He lowered into a stance as she backed away.
“Now, now Miss Yor. I’m sure your brother wouldn’t want us fighting,” he cajoled, a father to a tantruming child.
Mrs. Forger, sister to Yuri Briar, wanted nothing more than to give him a set of matching scars on his throat.
Something like deja vu set in. Her hits are making contact with his blocks, and her kicks are somewhat squeezed in by the limited room of the hospital bed. But it’s almost familiar with the way he blocks but never goes on the offensive.
Her mind's eye sees a castle instead of hospital white, and ocean blue eyes instead of passionless gray.
And just for a second, she sees Loid in the officer’s face. But it’s enough to give him the upper hand.
The man finally knocked the knife out of her hand by slamming her fist into the radiator, making the resulting spasm release the folding knife.
His hold on her arm adjusts and he uses the weight of his upper body against hers and shoves her to the floor, arm pinned back between their heaving bodies.
She can feel the heat of him through his uniform on her legs, his breath moving the hair on her nape.
The officer’s voice in low now, something raspy and deep, something quiet enough to not rouse the sleeping patient.
It sounds like Loid first thing in the morning. Like his coffee ‘thanks you’s and his late-night sighs.
“I understand you are upset Miss Yor,” he grunted as she tried to buck him off of her, but he was keeping her down, even if the effect knocks the hat from his head.
~~
Captain Conner endeavored to keep his breath under control. Never in his years as an officer for the SSS did he ever have to deal with such a wildcat.
Her control of the blade was almost too good, her punches equally strong as her kicks.
He exhaled, feeling the ache forming in his forearms. Conner felt a little bad about having to use such extreme force on a woman, especially Yuri’s sister.
But this was the woman who raised Yuri into the hardy man he was today. And he supposed it made sense that Yuri- who could shake off a gunshot wound in the moment- would have been raised by a woman who could easily kill a lesser being with a punch alone.
The captain was willing to admit that technique and luck were the only things that kept him alive so far. Now he had to extract himself before she finished the job.
“I understand you’re upset Miss Yor,” he tried, keeping his voice low, calm, the same tone he used for the female suspects that needed to relax. “I was only checking on Yuri. I meant him no harm.”
Her anger only leeched away into frustration and confusion and eyes the color of blood and fire looked at him in the eye for the first time.
He had gotten bored with life lately. Day in and day out of assignments, paperwork, and shepherding the young man now unconscious in the bed above them.
But now, now his heart still raced from adrenaline, and her rose perfume cut through the clinging tobacco from work. Her hair was the night sky across the white tile and her lipstick was smeared in a streak of petal pink.
The photos in Yuri’s locker did not do the beauty of Yor Briar justice.
They shared a deep breath, bodies still primed for a fight.
Yor Briar was married.
He wasn’t that low of a man to take advantage of a married woman.
“I will see that no harm comes to your brother or family Miss Yor.”
“For what price?” she snarled, anger flooding her body again.
“No price,” Conner promised. “I will even walk out of here under your supervision if that would make you more comfortable.”
Only the IV’s quiet drip made noise in the room and the Captain worried that perhaps Yor would resume the fight and end him right then and there.
But the woman nodded, and he could feel her body relax under his own. It took a lot of self-control to forcibly relax after such an adrenaline response. When she relaxed fully and stayed that way for a breath, he stood, letting Yor pick herself up.
He put his hat back on and adjusted his suit once more to create the illusion of control.
The less the staff notice the better.
Yuri’s sister rose and retrieved her knife, not putting it away, and gave her brother a kiss on the forehead.
“Out the main entrance, I’m going to watch you either go all the way to your car and drive away or load onto the bus,” she said, her eyes hard like garnets.
“My car then,” he confirmed before casually walking out of the hospital as she demanded.
Her stare on his neck was present until he was at least 4 blocks away from the hospital.
~~
“I can’t let you kill a ranking member of the SSS without solid evidence.” Shopkeeper said, his dark eyes pinning Thorn Princess to the spot she stood.
It sucked, but orders were orders.
“Yes sir.”
“Now go home and take care of your husband. I hear he has a bit of recovery ahead.” he waved her off, dismissing her for the night.
The streets of Berlint were sparse with the late night hour, most of the people lingering outside were couples going back home from date nights or night shift workers making their commute.
It was never a long walk for Yor, nor a walk that got bothersome with drunk pedestrians. But something was off tonight.
She could feel eyes on her.
Not murderous intent.
But they were on her nonetheless.
So she kept walking, biding her time as her stalker followed her trail.
Yor made her way to a park, its light dim and its path secluded enough for a late-night fight.
Tobacco reached her nose a second before a familiar voice asked: “How is your husband Miss. Yor?”