THE FOLLOWING TEXT CONTAINS: SWEARING, CRIMES, MURDER, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED (18+)
ALL TIED UP
53. EXT. SOME QUIET OVERHANG — NIGHT
For the record, they weren’t a fan of doing this. They honestly really didn’t want to do this. Unfortunately, they’re very low on options right now. They can’t go back to IZ and the BITECLAWs and FRANKIE just isn’t taking no for an answer. In fairness, they were an absolute mess when she first came up with the idea. But she insisted and they didn’t really have much will in them to disappoint her with another adamant no.
But just so that everyone is on the same page, JD would have preferred almost any other plan to this one.
Right now they’re overlooking a roundabout locomotive parking of some sort. There aren’t many ships here to really illustrate the idea. The place is pretty deserted, that’s how you know it’s the perfect place for an exchange of information. The only one’s showing up are the ones whispering, because the station-locked ships that are here are permanent. Booted, layered with tickets all yellowed with age. Overhead, the street lights flicker and threaten to go out but never quite give up.
JD is tucked high–enough–up in some nook in the pipeworks. They scoped the area below for possible wanderers, surprises, ambushes. But, really, this place is empty. JD was almost starting to wonder if this was the right location and the two didn’t just show up to some liminal part of the station. JD keeps thinking about this–and various other worries–as they distractedly assemble their rifle.
They’re saddled with worry, eyes scraping the area one more time for dark corners they can’t see into well enough to make a shot. There’s one. Their eyes hover over the area, near the garage to the far right, that underpass that leads off to a few more twists and turns. And it’s bugging them. It’ll keep bugging them. They look away, to the roundabout but out of the corner of their eye…that underpass gives them a pit in their stomach they can’t shake but they’re going to have to.
Shake it, that is. It’s not like they didn’t do their homework, here.
Every gig has at least one blind spot. They can’t let that get to them, not now. They’ve got to focus. They’ve done shadier gigs than this one.
JD turns their focus to the rifle, loading it, pieces pulled from a long black bag tucked up against the lip of the roof-type overhang they’re perched on. They take a deep breath and try to level their head as they quietly peer down to the silent junction below.
They really need to relax. They’ve gone through their checklist, scoped the whole place out back to front, picked the most optimal vantage point. There’s literally only one major blind spot.
FRANKIE promised this was just recon, get some intel, make the boss happy, get freelance work for a bit.
All thing’s considered, it’s better than the last gig they caught FRANKIE at where–she claims–they almost shot her.
JD snaps the silencer in place and settles in behind the rifle, moving it slowly, left to right, up…down… Slow enough, anyone taking this in from the outside would have to squint to parse it, especially past the dingy little lights down there.
In their ear, FRANKIE’s voice is a tinny muffled quiet through a comm piece.
FRANKIE [OS]
How’s things looking up there, stranger?
JD
Just fine. Ready to go. You better not need me.
Their voice is a nervous warning. They’re trying not to sound worried about the fact that they’re up here watching while she’s down there in the thick of it.
FRANKIE [OS]
Relax. It’ll be fine. This isn’t exactly my first rodeo, you know.
JD sighs again, exhaling to try and ground themself.
JD
Yeah. Yeah, I know. Just… You know.
FRANKIE [OS]
(teasing)
Awh, you do care.
JD rolls their eyes and can’t help but smile regardless. Their tension loosens just a little with that tease.
JD
Pay attention, Casanova.
FRANKIE [OS]
Pssh. We’re early. Nobody’s gonna be here till 21 anyway. And that’s if they’re on time.
JD
Mmhmm. Someone always shows up early.
FRANKIE [OS]
You worry too much. That’s what’s going to kill ya, one day, you know that?
JD
Thanks, mom.
FRANKIE [OS]
You’re lucky I don’t know where the hell you wound up because I’d kill you for that.
JD
I’m calling your bluff.
FRANKIE [OS]
Tchh. No way I–
JD
(urgent)
Shh! Pay attention.
There’s a long pause from the two of them as JD slowly scans the empty scene. They can feel FRANKIE’s tension on the other line before she realises they’re fucking with her.
FRANKIE [OS]
(unamused)
You’re such an asshole.
JD can’t help but snicker that time, keeping an eye on the situation, someone turns the corner into the scene, a YSOKI. JD trains their shot on them.
JD
Okay. Real, this time. Ysoki, twelve o’clock.
FRANKIE [OS]
(quieter)
I see ‘em.
The two go silent, observing as the YSOKI sidles over to a locomotive, station-bound, these things are designed to look a bit like off-planet starships, some even hover, maybe they’ve got old-fashioned tires. This one–like the rest–is a tired looking thing, must have been red at some point but it’s faded in spots like it’s been out in the sun too long.
Well, the station lights still deal a bit of UV if only for the alien who need that sort of intake not to go insane. For the humans, mostly.
The YSOKI waits, their tan coat gently catching one of the lights dimly illuminating the corridor. They lean against the locomotive, jumpy. Nervous. JD can relate.
Admittedly, they’re not even all that sure what sort of information FRANKIE’s angling for. Just that she’d know it when she heard it. Honestly, that’s what most recon missions are like.
They just watch, quietly, the three of them waiting, the YSOKI unaware they’ve got company to wait with. JD checks the time, now and then and watches it progress by increments of five.
They’re partially hoping on a no-show. Even if FRANKIE would be a mess about it after, no matter how many times they’d reassure her that it’s fine, no harm done. It’d ease their worry tonight, go for drinks after, sit in quiet. That’d be nice.
Unfortunately, about twenty minutes late, the other guy, a bigger human, shows up. They came up from the underpass JD was hoping nobody would be taking. They frown, of course the one blind spot in the whole place they’re stuck keeping an eye on.
That’s just overthink, though, they reassure themself. This is just recon. Get in, listen, get what you need, get out. JD flicks their attention back to the other two who meet up. It looks like the YSOKI is chastising the HUMAN who seems to brush it off.
FRANKIE [OS]
I can’t hear them, I’m going in closer.
JD
Be careful.
FRANKIE
Mhmm.
From their vantage, JD can see FRANKIE slip through the pipeworks, getting in a little bit closer. JD watches her, gritting their teeth as she sidles in next to the once-sporty green thing two parked ‘motives down.
That’s too close for comfort, one wrong slip she’ll be heard. They don’t say anything because they don’t want her to say anything, leaving it be, for now.
It’s long and painstaking, or it feels that way, moments crawling along with their finger resting on the trigger as they glance between FRANKIE and the other two talking to one another. There’s banter. The HUMAN seems like a real piece of work. The YSOKI has too much patience, honestly a lot of them are probably forced to on account of their small size. Lots of bigger species take advantage of the little guys, it forces them to be more careful how they talk, move, interact.
There’s an exchange of some sort of item between the two. JD, of course, can’t make out what it is from up here. Maybe that’s what FRANKIE was looking for.
Then over by the underpass someone calls to them.
Shit.
JD flicks their gaze to the underpass they can’t see who it is under there. They see feet, some sort of gnoll. Well, it’s not a great shot but it’ll work in a pinch if they have to disable them. Whoever is under there just doesn’t leave the protection of the overhang.
JD glances back to FRANKIE whose, thankfully backed off. She peers over the side of the locomotive across the way, instead. Out of sight of all parties and doesn’t seem to have triggered anyone’s attention.
But she’s staring at whoever it is below that underpass and, wait is she drawing her gun?
Uh oh.
JD
(urgent)
Frankie what’s going on?
FRANKIE [OS]
(hissing)
That traitorous son of a bitch! I shoulda known Nick was our mole.
JD watches her carefully check her gun, clicking the safety off–
JD
Frankie, wait–this is stealth–you said we were only doing recon.
FRANKIE [OS]
Yeah. And wouldn’t it be sweeter if we handed my pops the fuckin’ guy whose been leaking all our secrets?
JD
Sure–but I’d rather not be leaving this with you in a body bag.
FRANKIE [OS]
I’ve got perfect line of sight. I take out this guy and you drop the other two and it’s all over. Clean up and go.
JD
(frustrated)
With a bunch of potential eyewitnesses to a gun-show and crime cleanup afterparty.
FRANKIE [OS]
That’s what you’re here for, cover me.
JD
Frankie–Frankie–fuck.
JD curses in a slew of eoxian under their breath because they know she can still hear them.
They watch in slow horror as FRANKIE stands, her gun drawn towards the underpass and a shot rings out.
SFX: CRACK–
The sound is loud, ringing through the silence as everything goes still. JD turns their gaze from the feet disappearing below their blind spot to FRANKIE–
But she’s the one who’s down, collapsing against the locomotive, a streak of her blood struck across it.
It’s a reflex, the HUMAN and the YSOKI move toward FRANKIE and JD’s rifle fires.
SFX: ZZTAK ZZTAK
The YSOKI and the HUMAN are limp on the ground before they even register what’s happened, a message to the last one standing. But the guy’s gone. JD waits, one breath, two breaths, three. They wait to see if the other guy will emerge but they don’t come out. Every second wasted up here is a second more of FRANKIE bleeding out down there.
JD curses again and quickly scrambles out of their niche, leaving their rifle behind.
54. EXT. WHERE THE DUST IS SETTLING — FIVE MINUTES LATER
JD’s breath is short and sporadic and rakes through their lungs like they’ve swallowed glass. They’re moving their limbs as fast as they’ll go but it’s like they’re fighting the station’s gravity at every turn.
When they get to the scene, feet on the ground, JD keeps hidden, sidling up against the nearest building, their eyes darting over the scene. First to the underpass with a clearer line of sight. It’s dark in there though, they can’t see too far into it. It doesn’t look like the guy’s still there, doesn’t sound like anybody’s around.
Regardless, JD keeps low, slipping their way behind decrepit locomotives over towards FRANKIE as fast as they can. They look around them once more but the moment their eyes land on FRANKIE she occupies all of their attention, yanks hard at their worry and panic. They’re desperately praying to any god who will listen that she’s not dead, that this guy was some sort of lousy shot–
Fuck. It’s a head wound, she’s bleeding everywhere. JD drops to their knees as everything else around them disappears. They can feel their breath sharper and sharper in their throat as panic really starts to sink in. They scramble, fumbling for the first aid kit in their sling.
They tread water trying not to drown in old fears.
FLASHBACK: ON SOME SHIP
JD is rubbing their knuckles against someone’s sternum who’s passed out but they don’t move at all. They’re panicking. A grey hand settles on their shoulder.
M [OS]
You can’t fix this.
CUT TO: AND WE’RE BACK AGAIN–
Swallow it. JD takes a serious deep breath, and scrubs the blurring from their eyes, pushes the shaking from their fingers against their pant leg.
Focus.
They’ll panic, later. Right now they have to work.
JD sticks a hand next to her nose and they can still feel breath. Okay, good start. They take her face, sliding their fingers across her cheeks, pressing them around to the back of her head. It takes them a second to confirm there’s no exit wound. It looks like it got her eye, an actual bullet, not laser fire or it would have cauterised the wound and she wouldn’t be bleeding like this. JD looks into her eye but they can’t see the bullet, they’re afraid of making things worse if they try to go digging for it. Better to try and get her some medical help.
Stop the bleeding first. JD tugs some gauze and bandages out of their pack. They start wrapping it around her head, making sure it’s packed nice and tight around her eye.
Their careful press is maybe harder than it should have been because the pressure–the pain? Something startles FRANKIE and she gasps awake. The sound is excruciating to hear. A cross between a cry and a sharp intake of breath.
She panics, looking around, hands immediately reaching for the source of the shocking pain. JD takes her–her hands, making whatever effort they can to stop her from touching her face, saying:
JD
Frankie–Frankie–wait–stop don’t touch. We have to get you somewhere. We have to get you to a–Shit–No–don’t touch that.
Their tone is serious enough FRANKIE just barely manages to focus her attention on them, breathing sharp and fast.
FRANKIE
J-JD–JD it hurts–ah–It hurts real bad. I think he got me–I-I think–
JD
I know. Breathe. Take it easy. Let me finish.
When JD is sure she isn’t going to try and touch the wound again they finish their work, wrapping the gauze around her head and cinch it nice and tight. As they work they’re reassuring her, keeping their voice level.
JD
Okay. I’m going to figure out–I’m going to get you somewhere. We’re going to get you fixed up okay?
But as they turn to flick their gaze around the empty roundabout, FRANKIE’s burst of adrenaline starts to wane.
FRANKIE
I can’t see–JD…I can’t… I…
JD
Frankie–No–no stay awake. You can do that for me, yeah?
JD turns back to her, grabbing her face carefully, trying desperately to keep her awake. FRANKIE’s eye flutters open only barely.
JD
Frankie, hey, hey. There you go, yeah. Just stay awake for me. Yeah? Promise me.
FRANKIE
Mhmm. Promise…
They honestly can’t remember where the nearest functioning medical bay is. They’re drawing a complete blank and at this rate, she’ll bleed out before JD can get her where-ever it is on foot. They scramble to think of something as they crouch and get FRANKIE to give them her hand.
JD shifts, carefully manoeuvring themself so that they can get FRANKIE up on their back. It’s a struggle to manage with FRANKIE slowly losing consciousness but JD manages to get her on their back, as they rack their brain for the closest thing available.
All that comes to mind is fucking JAK’S and the last time they were there EMILIO had a field day mincing JD’s face against the ground.
But they don’t have any other options only a couple blocks away. They’re running out of time just thinking about this. It’s, really, the only shot they’ve got.
55. EXT. JAKOBIE’S — NIGHT
FRANKIE hasn’t said anything since JD took off running. They can feel time slipping through their fingers as the blood from her eye seeps into their jumpsuit’s shoulder. As her breath on their neck gets thinner and thinner.
But fuck, there’s nobody out here, not even on their way to JAKOBIE’S. They were hoping they might bump into someone, anyone, maybe there’d even be some other hole-in-the-wall place that would magically just have a medbay. Wouldn’t that be something?
No, that’d be a miracle. JD keeps running, shifting their shape out of their orc gingerly, as they go, keeping FRANKIE secured on their back while their face turns into a gnoll. Maybe it’s risky, especially if EMILIO happens to be there. Wouldn’t that be just their luck. But the likelihood of making a good impression with a gnoll is a higher priority so they’re going to have to keep taking risks tonight.
It’s a crowd they don’t know too well, but they figure BARKFANG’s got its claws in most of the gnoll population down here in PIPETOWN so it’s a better calculated guess.
At least, they’re trying to reassure themself, and trying to keep their panic at bay, but that blood seeping into their shoulder is hot and sticky and there’s so much of it, they’d be shocked if she hasn’t already bled out by now.
This gnoll face is going to have to be good enough to get her some help because JAKOBIE’S is now coming up on their left. JD pushes just a bit further, ignoring the fatigue sinking into their limbs and really honing in on that second bout of adrenaline.
They peel around, making for the entrance but they’re stopped by the BOUNCERS outside.
BOUNCER
And where do you think you’re going?
JD
(gasping)
It’s Frankie, she’s hurt. I didn’t know where else to go. You have to help me. I know Emilio frequents–just–someone needs to get her some help–
BOUNCER
Shit–kid relax you can’t go in there with her like that you’ll freak people out.
JD
Y-yeah–okay but she’s bleeding out fast. Maybe someone in there knows her enough to get her some help–
BOUNCER
Better luck at a clinic–
JD
Look I don’t have time to figure out where the nearest clinic is. Someone here has to have a closer connection or she’s done for.
The BOUNCER looks to the second guy, a frown on their face.
BOUNCER
You think doc’s in?
The second guy shifts their gaze between the BOUNCER and then JD, a painstakingly slow motion…and then they nod their head to the side.
BOUNCER
(sigh)
Yeah, alright. Come on.
JD’s relief nearly causes them to collapse and they only just barely manage to keep themself together to follow after the BOUNCER who steps off their post.
They lead JD around the side alley towards the back. JD doesn’t think, they just follow, scrambling to explain, because filling the silence feels better than letting it sit and feeling the blood against their shoulder.
JD
Someone popped her in the eye. She’s bleeding a lot. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t tell if the bullet was still in there.
BOUNCER
Yeah. Got it. We’ll ring Boz. Unfortunately this one’s been asking for it for a while.
JD just frowns as the two stop behind the bar. There’s only a flickering light here, a couple of slimes picking at trash. The BOUNCER opens up the back door and starts inside, down a set of steep steps.
BOUNCER
C’mon. We’ve got someone who can patch her up down here.
JD
Right.
They hesitate, peering down the steps. This is for FRANKIE, this is all for FRANKIE, they can worry about talking their way out of the lion’s den, later.
JD steps inside, carefully balancing FRANKIE’s weight as they shimmy down through the darkness. It’s dank, musty, down here. There’s the awful green glow of fluorescents. The bouncer leads the two of them to a rickety door and shoves it open.
Inside is a makeshift medical room. They probably aren’t doing full on surgeries but definitely patch-ups in here. The BOUNCER gestures for JD to step inside.
BOUNCER
Might be a minute but I think the Doc’s around upstairs.
JD
Thanks, really.
BOUNCER
Don’t thank me yet.
JD, carefully, tries to set FRANKIE down on the makeshift gurney across the room. They slip and nearly drop her but the BOUNCER quickly steps in to help. The two of them place her gently. FRANKIE isn’t responsive and the sound the BOUNCER makes just looking at her, twists JD’s stomach something unreal.
Yeah. It looks bad.
BOUNCER
Okay gimme a sec.
The BOUNCER darts off with a lot more urgency to their step than they had before, leaving JD with a shut door an empty room and FRANKIE laying helpless. Gods that’s so much blood.
JD looks her over and they can feel a sharp squeezing ache in their heart, a burning sting to their eyes. Fuck. Stop. They scrub their face and sniff. They have to focus. Neither of them is out of the woods yet.
Deep breaths, one, two, three. Okay. Put that away. They pace the room just to give themself something to do, welcoming the tired complaints of their legs. They stop to check, every few steps to see if she’s still breathing and she is, but each time it’s shallower, thinner.
What’s taking everyone so fucking long? JD can feel their world start to spin dizzyingly on the third check up. Like they’ve just been tossed on some sort of ride, blasted into space, whatever. It feels awful. They’re not sure if they want to puke or pass out.
They pull up a seat instead. Shift it close to her so they can take her hand and chastise her.
JD
Look what you did. I told you this was a bad idea. Fuck. Why didn’t you listen?
FRANKIE doesn’t respond and somehow talking like this is making it worse. They give her hand a squeeze.
JD
Don’t you go dying on me, I’ll never let you live it down.
Their threat is supposed to be half a joke when they say it but their voice shakes when they speak and they decide then they need to stop talking.
They should have been more adamant. They should have found a better vantage. They knew deep down that underpass was going to bite them. Stupid fucking mistakes.
Enough. Enough. They don’t have time for this right now. They can’t afford to fall apart here. They’ll have plenty of time to do it later.
The door opens up in front of them. It’s–maybe a bit surprisingly–an older human, grizzled, tired looking, who steps into the room. There’s a practiced urgency to their step. This must be the DOC the BOUNCER mentioned earlier. JD keeps glancing at the door–expecting someone else, expecting a trap to spring–as they squeeze FRANKIE’s hand in their’s.
DOC
Talk to me, kid. What happened?
JD pulls themself together, steadying their voice.
JD
She asked me to help her run a gig, thing went sour, she got shot in the eye. Still breathing but I couldn’t find any bullet still in there.
DOC nods, puts on gloves and slides the other stool over to FRANKIE to check in on her. JD just watches helplessly, glancing between the DOC and FRANKIE, ready to offer help of any kind if necessary.
DOC
(quietly)
Oof.
JD
Y-yeah it’s bad.
DOC
You said this is Frankie…? Like Frankie Barkfang?
JD
Yeah.
DOC
You might want to book it while you still have a shot. I’ll do what I can but if she doesn’t pull through you’re done for.
JD
I can be a second pair of hands. I don’t know much but I can still help if you tell me what you need.
The DOC hesitates, flicking their gaze to JD momentarily before refocusing their attention on FRANKIE.
DOC
Suit yourself.
JD is handed a pair of gloves and the two set to work, patching FRANKIE up. JD pushes everything out of their mind, holding tools and angling lights for the DOC, keeping things steady, keeping themself breathing. Come hell or high water they’re going to make sure she gets out of this alive.
She has to.
CUT TO: WHAT FEELS LIKE SEVERAL PAINSTAKING HOURS LATER
It’s hard work, careful work. JD is hanging onto all hope for dear life. They’ve stopped breathing several times to still their shaking hands.
But at the end of it all the two manage to locate the bullet and the DOC carefully extracts it, picking out any shattered pieces with careful precision.
The door opens up again, a gnoll, older guy, peers inside.
???
How’s it goin’ in here, Doc…?
The gnoll’s voice trails, locking eyes with JD.
???
Eh, this one is still here?
DOC
Insisted on helping so I kept the extra hands.
???
They are going to have a field day with this one, you tell them?
DOC
Yeah, I told them.
The older gnoll sighs.
???
Sending Georgie down.
DOC
Mhmm.
The door shuts again. The DOC pulls away from their work, after carefully patching up FRANKIE’s eye again.
DOC
Last chance.
JD
You think I’d even make it out the back door?
The DOC hesitates.
DOC
Not likely.
JD
Is what it is, then.
DOC sighs, moving to clean up their tools.
JD
You…think she’ll be okay?
DOC
Can’t say. Don’t have the equipment for it down here. Can’t tell if it hit deep enough for any worse damage. Eye’s gone for sure, though. She’s stabilised for now, but…
The DOC frowns and JD doesn’t particularly love the uncertainty but they aren’t about to give the guy who helped them out of this pinch a hard time.
JD watches the DOC, stomach squirming, the adrenaline leaving a deep worrying exhaustion in it’s wake. They’ll have to answer to BARKFANG, now. At least, well, they have a name for the turncoat. JD just hopes they’ll believe them. If FRANKIE pulls through, she can at least corroborate the fact.
The DOC prepares one last shot. Probably another boost of anaesthesia… Or maybe some sort of painkiller before they send her off to get proper treatment.
JD turns their attention back to FRANKIE, their hand isn’t gloved anymore and it’s wrapped around FRANKIE’s again as they worry.
The DOC moves to JD’s side of the gurney and JD shifts to move out of their way, giving them better access to FRANKIE.
But the DOC grips JD’s arm, instead.
JD
What are you–
The DOC sticks the needle into JD’s shoulder. There’s the sharp pain of the DOC’s injection as JD meets their gaze, eyes wide.
JD tries to pull away but it’s too late. The DOC is holding them firm, their grip much stronger than JD expected. They’re speaking, voice quick, hushed, urgent, JD only starts to focus on the DOC’s words partway through–
DOC
…lax, kid. This is just to knock you out. It’ll get you past their initial interrogations, the angry shit that makes them hurt you. Sorry it’s the most I can do for you for now…
JD struggles to speak as the serum overtakes them, eating the edges of their vision as they lose their balance and fall into the DOC’s arms. JD tries to fight it, moving against it but their limbs are so heavy, like they’re made of sand. Dead weight. Falling into unconsciousness.
56. INT. SOME ROOM — UNKNOWN T.O.D.
Waking up is rough. JD’s limbs ache at the seams of their shifting, their head is thick and cloudy. It takes them a few seconds to realise the darkness in their eyes is a blindfold and not an aftermath of the…
Ah, shit, the serum. Whatever that doctor gave them. JD takes a deep breath, they’re lucky it was generic enough not to effect the fact that they aren’t actually a gnoll. JD shifts in their seat and finds that they’re bound to some chair. The room around them is musty. A damp smell they can feel sinking cold into their jumpsuit. The space echoes quietly with any movement they make. Even when they aren’t moving very much.
They have to get out of here. They have to find out if FRANKIE’s okay. They have to save whatever they can of their hide as it is.
But whatever serum that DOC gave them is, it’s strong. It’s still sitting in their bloodstream as they try to think through the smog. First thing’s first, they have to get this blindfold off and assess where they even wound up, if they can get out–
Even trying to shift is an effort, now. Something so second nature to them feels almost impossible. They try to visualise who they want to become but all they can see is their messed up face in the mirror with a black eye and they know that’s not the look they’re going for.
They spend several painstaking minutes trying to shift but the smoke in their brain is mucking up their signals, nothing gets through. Great. Peachy.
The effort they’re putting into this is making them nauseous. They can feel bile creeping its way up their throat because there isn’t much else in their stomach. How long were they out for?
A generator goes off in the back way, a deep tick tick tock of a distant clock is the only thing that been breaking the silence down here, and strong enough to break apart whatever worry starts to materialise in the fog. Who keeps things analog anymore?
Fine, shifting isn’t working. They try to bend down to their hands and find that their shoulders are strapped to this chair too. Criss-cross across their chest, even. Someone knew they were slippery and made sure even shifting would give them trouble in their attempt to escape.
JD
(murmuring)
Okay, focus.
They keep quiet as they try to ground themself into reality. Their voice echoes tinny against the metal walls around them. They shift their feet, trying to push themself back into something but that only aches their muscles even more.
Gods what the hell was in that stuff anyway?
SFX: CA-CHK.
JD freezes in their efforts, fuck, time’s up. A heavy door swings open after someone clicks the lock. They can feel the air move in its wake. JD stops moving, freezing, their heart rattling in their chest.
JD tries to control their breathing but not being able to see anything isn’t helping. They listen for the stranger’s approach even if they’re bound up tight enough they couldn’t fight the stranger off even if they tried.
VOICE
Eh. So, you’re awake.
A gruff voice makes the comment and JD can feel the looming shadow of the owner approaching them. They tense, bracing themself, they want to reply but all they can think to say is:
JD
Is she okay?
The person doesn’t answer this question, only moves behind them and says:
VOICE
Don’t try anything.
The person with the gruff voice loosens JD’s binds behind them, and the relief of the tension being loosened nearly makes their body lose its shape. They only barely manage to keep it together as their hands are brought around in front of them and cinched tight in a set of restraints.
The rest of the binds come undone and when JD tries to pull their blindfold off, the voice coughs, clears itself and JD resists the temptation.
Before they know it, JD is being yanked from their seat, unceremoniously and shoved along. Their feet only just managing to catch them before they fall over–only to trip on the first set of steps. Whoever is leading them scruffs JD before their face makes contact with anything.
Then they’re shoved, stumbling up about thirteen steep steps towards a straight shot into some place warm. Glasses are clinking as if being washed and put away, it’s quiet. Like nobody’s around yet, it smells thick, reedy, like alcohol and deep-fried-somethings.
They aren’t still at JAKOBIE’s are they?
???
Movin’ ‘em already?
VOICE
Boz’ orders. Saved the kid.
???
Not out of the woods yet.
VOICE
Ah, well. None of my business, just followin’ orders.
The air between the two talking is grave, but the person pushing JD forward doesn’t stop moving, meandering around tables, JD can only assume. They’re shoved up another much taller flight of stairs before they reach the landing. It’s really quiet up here, more-so as they make a left down the hall and one more right. They stop and there’s the click of a thick door handle and then JD is shoved inside another musty room.
VOICE
Make yourself comfortable.
JD
W-wait–
JD scrambles, tearing the blindfold off this time, coming face to face with another gnoll. A little shorter than the ones they last saw, greying, sympathetic eyes. They falter at the door, waiting for JD to continue.
JD
Frankie… I-is she…?
GNOLL
Mmm… Not dead, yet, sounds like. ’N for your sake, hope it stays that way.
JD
People keep saying…
JD struggles to process this, hanging on a small hope that no news is good news.
The older gnoll watches them for a moment.
GNOLL
Sit tight. Any funny business and we have permission to drop you, understand?
JD nods.
GNOLL
Good. Food in an hour.
The gnoll shuts the door as they leave, locking it behind them. JD stands staring at that door for as long as their eyes will let them before their vision blurs and they breathe a shaky sigh.
There isn’t much in here. The air is stale, maybe that’s better than musty. There’s a bed and a pot to piss in and that’s about all there is.
JD moves to sit on the bed. It complains with the weight of them. Carefully they manage to shift their hands out of the restraints, rubbing their wrists before they lie back and stare up at the stained ceiling. Small hairline cracks cut through what was once stark-white. All they can think of right now is M, and wishing they could just read any of their aunt’s stupid messages.
They can feel their eyes well up again, a sharp pinch between them as they take a breath and swallow it whole.
What are they doing? How did they let it get this bad? Fuck. JD can’t help crawling back through their memories and picking at them until they fall apart at the seams. Fuck M. But they’ve gone and fucked this up for themself even more.
JD imagines themself sticking their fingers into the hairline cracks in the ceiling and pulling it apart. They imagine a darkness back there, greater than anything they’ve ever seen, reaching for them, tearing at them, pulling them in.
They really have to start thinking of a plan to get out of here. Even if FRANKIE pulls through this, their ass is on the line.
If she pulls through. She has to pull through. JD grits their teeth and goes back through their memories for something to blame. They probably shouldn’t have told her about EMILIO…
They definitely shouldn’t have told her about EMILIO. JD sniffles and digs their claws into their skin to ground themself. They also shouldn’t have gone back to her place after IZ’s ultimatum, they shouldn’t have kissed her in that alley after ghosting her for weeks. They shouldn’t have taken this job with IZ–their job was to lay low and they couldn’t even do that right.
There’s too much time to think in here, and no light but the one plugged into the wall that flickers now and then when some generator goes on for whatever fuel is running the place downstairs.
This isn’t much of a plan, but their brain still feels like fog and regret so they worry themself into sleep and wake up to find food on the bed beside them and their restraints fixed to their wrists once more.
JD sighs, the food is cold but decent. Smells like the air smelled downstairs. Fried-something. Its the dregs but they’ll eat just about anything right now.
They spend the rest of the time, thinking, planning to no avail, circling memories and drains they shouldn’t be circling. Their comm was confiscated, lucky for them, IZ’s work com was already confiscated so the only thing they have to lose is FRANKIE and M’s contacts…M is going to be real happy about that. They’re never going to hear the end of it.
They really wish they could light a smoke, that might actually clear some of the fog in their head.
CUT TO: WHAT FEELS LIKE DAYS AND DAYS GOING BY
JD only knows days have come and gone because they’ve had a few meals. And their addiction to their cigs is starting to really give them the shakes, the nausea’s only getting sharper. They feel terrible, which means their plan of escape is really extra terrible. Their shifting ribbons are getting tired of holding this stupid gnoll-shape for so long. The muzzle is starting to feel really weird.
The older greying gnoll that moved them the first time, catches them trembling and sweating after a couple of days cold. He offers them a light and stays to watch them smoke it.
GNOLL
Too young to be smokin’ like that, kid.
JD
Mm… Bad habit overall, I hear.
The gnoll snorts, and when JD is done, they kill the butt in an ash-tray provided and the gnoll slips away again until dinner time.
Otherwise, all that’s left for them is to think of a way out of this, and after what feels like weeks of waiting they still haven’t come up with anything. They could try to escape, probably have enough speed to slip past the older gnoll and out of the place, hoping they don’t get shot at first, or praying it’s planned right that they’re not running down into a bar full of patrons, likely BARKFANG-loyal. They can’t hear anything up here, not even when the place is full and rowdy. At least they assume it get’s that way. They’ve assumed a lot in this liminal whatever-time they’ve spent in this room.
All they know is if they’re caught doing anything they’re dead.
But even if they did escape. They wouldn’t have anywhere to go. BITECLAW has probably moved on by now. IZ probably figured they were being stubborn, probably figured out it was EMILIO that kicked their ass, honestly she might even have heard about FRANKIE, maybe FOXTROT and TANGO finally sold them out, told IZ they were seeing her fucking daughter.
JD sits on that fleeting thought for a moment too long and finds that just the idea hurts them more than they realised.
Maybe… Maybe FOXTROT might… But TANGO wouldn’t… Right? Maybe not.
JD struggles to even believe that much. Those two are BITECLAW loyal. JD’s only ever pretended to be.
Just like they’re pretending now, making excuses for why it is they can’t actually leave this back room. Sure there’s no window, probably worth at least trying to escape. There are a lot of threats going around about how they’d drop JD if they tried anything… But there has to be a reason why JD’s even still alive right now.
And a very small part of them is curious, but an even bigger part of them is worried about FRANKIE and they just want to know that she’s okay and they don’t want to do her dirty, make a good impression.
They have a name, they’ve got some credit to getting her to safety, that’s got to count for something.
That night replays in their head like a broken record, over and over and over. The underpass, the missed shot, FRANKIE’s recoil on that shot. It got her good. The blood all over their hands, her panicked breath.
So much blood–that’s normal though…it’s a head wound, doesn’t mean anything. They got that bullet out of her. She was stable, she has to be okay.
They wouldn’t still be here if she were dead, right?
SFX: CLIK CHK CREEEAK.
JD flicks their gaze out of their thoughts and towards the door. The older gnoll is there with another set of hands, big guy, another gnoll. It’s gnolls all the way down with these BARKFANGS. JD stands, nervously. They want to ask what’s changed but their nerves steal their voice right out of their throat.
The older gnoll’s look is serious, maybe grave?
GNOLL
Boz wants to see you. We’re going quietly, without a fuss. Yeah?
JD’s stomach sinks and the force of the fear makes them have to swallow the bile that’s leapt to their throat. They nod.
GNOLL
Good.
The gnoll nods to the other one who steps into the room. While JD is still sporting the restraints on their wrists, this bigger guy pulls a black cloth back over their head and cinches it shut.