hai mươi ❀| you get a shiver in the dark

[lotuslife]

[It's late afternoon on Beaver Street, and Vietnam is collapsed in the hallway of 1762 in a deep red, shimmering pool of her own blood. There's an obscene path of it smeared and streaked behind her, trailing from the kitchen to the living room up to where she's stopped. Blood stains the carpet and some of the walls; it permeates the tiles of the

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[supersizedpower]

[It isn't long before America is on his way home from work, tired from a long day of fixing cars. Although he normally has his guard up in Mayfield, especially with enemies like Vietnam around, right now he's not thinking about much besides sitting down on the couch to watch some TV and a cold bottle of Coke that's in the fridge.

He's whistling off-key as he opens the door, walks inside, and stops in his tracks. Although he briefly panics, wondering if the blood belongs to Rika or perhaps one of his friends visiting, as soon as he sees the shape of a body on the floor, he recognizes Vietnam. He doesn't panic, but his heart is racing, and he draws his gun, watching for any sudden movement as he approaches her. Whoever did this might still be in the house.]

[lotuslife]

[She hears the door open and her fingers tense over the wound; she curses in her head and wonders if she can't maybe try again to escape outside, though she knows it's impossible. She's moved too much and lost too much blood. She manages to lift two fingers up, though, because it's the best she can do to show that she is unarmed.

Perhaps he'll do her a favor and- no. She can't ask for that from America. She manages to speak quietly.]

They left. [She wonders if he might have seen Kakyoin on his way here- she had managed to land a knife in his stomach, so he couldn't have gotten far, but she doesn't have the breath to ask.]

[supersizedpower]

[He hesitates before putting the gun away, but what does she really have to gain by lying? He holsters it and kneels down next to her.]

What happened?

[lotuslife]

[If she could, she'd try to shove him away, but she just keeps her hand over the wound.] Friend of mine... [Friend? No, not really. Apparently not.] Attacked me. [She coughs.] Unprovoked. [She manages something like a shrug.]

[supersizedpower]

[Once inside the house, America rushes to the phone. He doesn't know Lucas' number, nor is he even sure of his name-- it's been ten years since Westport, after all. So instead, he calls Mayfield.]

Hello?

I need that kid, the blond kid. We met in Westport and you can heal people?

[a_gentle_boy]

[The voice that picks up at the other end may sound a bit different than what America dimly remembers, but it's definitely Lucas. It's not difficult to tell that this isn't a social call.]

H-Hello? I think that's me. This is . . . Mr. America, right? What's wrong?

[supersizedpower]

Yeah. Good.

I need to bring somebody to you. Where do you live?

[a_gentle_boy]

If someone's hurt badly enough that they can't make it here alone, you shouldn't move them. I'll come to you.

[badend_replay]

[ Rika saw the blood and all, but only once it was too late. She does decide to try to scrub the kitchen clean for her Sen-mama though (key word; try) and will try to have a nice hot meal ready when she's all better.

She's sorry she couldn't help. ]

[lotuslife]

[The sight of Vietnam walking back through the front door is a morbidly absurd one: covered in blood, the side of her shirt torn open, a bandage over her ribs, she looks like a woman who should be dead, or like she's celebrating Halloween a few weeks too early. Despite all of the blood, though, she seems well. Whole. Somewhat wary and exasperated, even, as she takes in the sight of the mostly-clean kitchen. She had meant to clean it for herself- it was her blood, after all. She senses that it couldn't have been the drone daughter, who is now tugging at her hand cheerfully as if she can't see the blood at all. No- it must have been Rika.

She isn't sure whether she should find the girl and say anything; she decides that it is for the best not to seek her out for the moment. She retreats upstairs to run hot water in the bath, unable to stand the feeling of her own still-damp blood settling into her skin as it dries.]

[lotuslife]

[After bathing the blood off of her body and inspecting the wound- the internal damage seems to be all but gone, and the entry and exit wounds are largely healed- she wraps her ribs in clean bandages and begins cleaning the parts of the house that Rika missed. Large portions of the carpet will need to be replaced. The kitchen tiles seem stained, as well

[supersizedpower]

[He hadn't felt much like going back home, even though he knew he should. There was a chance Vietnam would stay in the hospital, and he shouldn't have left Rika alone in a bloody house

[lotuslife]

[She turns the bullet over in her fingers, still staring at it. A part of her registers the sound of the door opening, but she isn't thinking about it, nor is she thinking of America. Because when she thinks about what he did yesterday, she feels physically ill.

After a moment, she stands and tosses the bullet in the sink with a metallic thunk.]

[supersizedpower]

[He notices that everything appears to be clean; either Vietnam or Rika or maybe the little drone who used to be Coraline. He comes inside the house, shutting the door and looking in the kitchen.]

Rika?