Afterward

[hazlogs]

Date: 8/23/02.  Not long after the events of the previous log.

After leaving Quentin and Rina, Salem hits the streets on autopilot. He's
just one person, obviously unarmed, shirt still torn and bloodied, hands
shoved deeply into his pockets and lost in his own less-than-happy thoughts.
Even at his current emotionally weary state, he's still frightening enough
to go unmolested even in _this_ part of town.

...As any man with bullet-wounds in his back, and yet still walking, should
be. The halfmoon is free to walk unmolested for a while, yet. Eventually
though - maybe after half an hour's walking or more - a familiar van
approaches, behind him. The headlights illuminate the ex-Ronin, and then go
past. But the van slows. Red tail-lights brighten, illuminating him again in
a much grimmer light from their position a few yards in front. The engine
idles. Expectant.

Salem stops, turning a dark, hollow eye toward the van. His expression's
already grim enough, and it doesn't change as, with a faint, tired
exhalation of breath, he walks around toward the passenger-side door.

It's unlocked. And the driver doesn't get out to open it for him.

Salem pulls the door open, then, but doesn't climb in until he sees who the
driver is.

John - staring straight ahead. "You got fuckin' bloodied bullet-holes all
over your back. You're gonna get picked up police, and what good's that
going to do us?" A weak excuse, but the look that John sends to his
Tribesmate, sideways, says quite clearly that it's going to have to do.

Salem regards the Ahroun flatly for a moment, then grunts and gets into the
van, dropping himself into the seat and slamming the door closed. He folds
his arms across his chest, not saying a word. The emotional mask's in place,
but eroded around the edges; he doesn't look at the other Walker.

The Ahroun pulls away from the curb without a word - the eager-to-please
rumble of the engine and the ticking of the indicator are the only sounds in
the van.

Salem lets the silence drag on for several minutes, then says, in a dull,
flat voice, "You shouldn't have struck her." His gaze remains forward.

John wets his lips, and they part as if to speak... then close. He swallows
and tries again a moment later, eyes still on the road. "What say we start
again, and pretend you didn't just interfere with me and my fiance. ...Sorry
for shooting you like that."

Muscles tighten in Salem's jaw as he grits his teeth. His hands close into
fists, fingernails digging into his palms. He takes a breath, and then
another, and then replies, sounding brittle, "Reasonable mistake."

The Walker Elder fortunately has legitimate reason to keep his eyes on the
road. They'd be downcast, otherwise. He lets silence flow back into the
conversation.

Once again, it's Salem who breaks the silence. "I'm surprised you didn't
follow them, instead." His voice remains flat. There's no need to specify
who 'them' is.

John's only immediate response to the comment is a blink. He swallows
slowly, and rumbles, "Did. Kinda. And... I can't. Not yet, anyway. ...I'll
go back."

Salem nods once, then sighs, the sound full of frustration and weariness.
One hand comes up to rub at his forehead. "Dammit. Fucking _dammit_."

"Can't stop her, y'know. From doing what she thinks is right." John's voice
is oddly detached. It has an element of resignation, but not the acceptance
that usually comes with. Thoughtful, as if this is still in debate. "Can
only watch her back."

Salem gives John a brief, sidelong glance, though considering that the
Ahroun's on his blind side, he has to turn his head almost all the way for
that short look. He opens his mouth, reconsiders whatever he was about to
say, then closes it and turns his gaze forward again. "I know. She's always
been..." He pauses. "Reckless."

More silence from the Ahroun. He just seems to be taking his time with his
words, because they come eventually. Even, and considered. "Knew a cub,
once. Killed a girlfriend he wasn't supposed to have. Frenzied during sex."
Eyes always on the road. "...Never really got over it. Never Rited, anyway."
John pauses, lapsing into a momentary silence again. "Should probably warn
the cubs. Jer. ...I've... when Grey Sky fell, and..." He frowns a little.
"I've seen some shit," he summarizes, in order to move along past that
gigantic mental block. "But there wasn't much /sadder/ than that."

The Elder's voice is low, rumbling softly and barely louder than the engine
- heard in the insulated safety bubble of the van.

Salem lets his head drop back against the seat's headrest. "I've seen that
happen," he says flatly, his voice not much louder than John's. "The worst
is the blackness. Knowing, but not knowing." Then, even more quietly, a
short curse word in Serbian.

John just watches the road. There's a slight wandering of his eye as he
murmurs, "You're a good man. Good warrior. You got my respect." With those
words out of the blue, pitched low, and given time to settle, he adds,
"I'd'a just killed you. Wouldn't draw it out."

Salem grunts a neutral-sounding sound at the first part of John's speech.
For the second, he offers up only a hollow-sounding, "Thank you for that, at
least." His head turns only slightly; he stares out the passenger window,
watching the passing street.

John's eyes slide to the side, to watch his passenger for a while. They
return to the road in short order. He nods a little, barely perceptible.
Familiar territory, by the side of the road, now. Nearing the halfmoon's
sleeping-place.

Salem notices. When he speaks again, there isn't any more liveliness in his
voice than there was before, but the subject's changed. "You should come
meet Cat sometime. Needs a spine, but has potential."

The Ahroun looks out at the road with hollow eyes. "Second-time I heard
almost exactly the same speech. I'm not real good at giving kids 'spine'.
You?" All too happy to accept a change of topic.

"I hope so," Salem replies flatly, and the depressed, weary lack of
confidence in that reply says volumes.

The Elder pulls the van up slowly - the last few metres to the front steps
of Salem's building is at a crawl. "You gonna take point on Cat, then?" he
asks mildly, watching the dark halfmoon measuringly.

Salem nods without taking his eyes off the view from the passenger-side
window. "We've established a rapport, anyway. He... trusts me."

John just sits, still staring out the front. He turns the engine off.
"Good," he murmurs lowly-- emotionless. "Push it. Test it. Make him see. But
don't ever let him down." The words carry the weight of Orders.

"Jawohl," Salem replies, without any hint of mockery, or much of anything
else. "Are we done?"

John nods minutely again, with a low 'mm' of confirmation.

Salem nods once, then pushes the door open and climbs out. He doesn't say
anything, nor looks at the other Glass Walker.

The van doesn't pull away, nor does the Ahroun look over to the street,
until Salem's inside. And only then does the engine start back up, gears
change, and the vehicle start slowly off again. Up a couple of blocks,
enough to be out of sight and mind, whereupon it pulls over again for the
Walker Elder to get out and lean against a lamp post as he throws up into
the gutter.