Quinn's consciousness returns slowly, fading in and out for a moment before it steadies and he slowly opens his eyes, the light causing him to squint as he finally notices a faint pressure on his body.
Cloth is wrapped tightly around him, layered and firm enough that each breath meets a slight resistance, its as if his ribs are expanding against something that refuses to give more than it has to. The sensation feels wrong but in an intentional way, like his body has been forced back into place and then held there.
Then the pain slowly trickles in, not an overwhelming amount, it's more akin to a faint ache now compared to before.
His shoulder burns faintly beneath the bandages, deep and raw where the teeth tore through it. His abdomen aches in a tight, stretched way, like something has been pulled closed that should not have been opened in the first place. His leg throbs with a slow, heavy pulse that travels up through his hip and into his spine.
Everything hurts but not as much as before.
Quinn exhales slowly as he rests his arm on his stomach, letting out a faint chuckle.
Alive.
Barely.
His eyes open fully now, having finally adjusted and lost their blur.
The ceiling above him is unfamiliar—dark wooden beams, aged but solid. The air carries a sharp herbal scent layered over iron, something medicinal but not refined, closer to crushed leaves and boiled mixtures than anything clean.
Not his home, nor the study, his mind begins to swim as he weighs the fact he could have been kidnapped.
There is trafficking everywhere, even in another world?
He shifts slightly to get a better look at the surroundings.
Pain answers immediately, sharper now, going from across his chest all the way down his side. His breath catches and his muscles lock up before he forces himself to still.
"Easy."
A voice comes from his right.
Quinn turns his head.
Three men stand nearby, close enough that they've been watching him for some time.
The first is the closest. Blonde hair cut short, uneven at the edges. His posture is relaxed, weight resting on one leg, his hand rests on a cane while his other is loose at his side, but despite his relaxed demeanor he is still alert and wary.
His eyes are a faint red, not bloodshot or irritated, like the red eyes you would see on an albino individual and yet they fit him despite how out of place they seem.
"Look who's awake," he says, with a grin as he begins to pour a glass of cooled herbal tea.
The second stands beside him, similar in age but built differently in presence rather than body. Brown hair, shorter, kept just out of his green eyes. His posture is straighter and more deliberate. He gives Quinn a wave and a warm smile. Strangely enough, compared to the other two in the room this man is dressed expensively, wearing a clean waistcoat and suit pants along with some dress shoes compared to the work clothing the other men wear.
The third is bringing over an additional blanket, Quinn nods to him as he slowly sits up, helping him lay out the blanket.
He's broader and taller than the other two, his shoulders thick and weight carried naturally rather than built for show. A cap sits low over his head, shadowing his grayish blue eyes slightly, dark hair pushing out from beneath it in uneven strands. A scar runs from his left brow down across the bridge of his nose and through his lip, pale and jagged, pulling faintly at the corner of his mouth. Another disappears beneath his collar.
The man steps back while adjusting his cap after laying out the blanket.
"You look like hell," the blonde says.
The brunette chuckles and the capped one looks to the side while covering his face.
Quinn looks at them bewildered by the snickering; he shakes his head and groans, taking a cup from the blonde man, staring at it for a moment before sniffing it.
"…What is this?" he asks, voice rough.
"It's a tea our mother made for you. She said we should have you drink it when you wake up" The brunette says as he finds himself a seat
Quinn nods and drinks the tea. The taste is peculiar and makes his throat tingle before he adjusts to the taste.
"…Where am I?" he asks while setting down the tea.
"The North Cell of Dunmire," the blonde answers while refilling the cup. "Honestly, with the state we found you in you shouldn't even be alive."
A brief pause follows before the brunette adds, "We are lucky Gwilym was here."
Quinn's gaze drops to the bandages wrapped around him, layered thick across his torso, his shoulder bound tight enough to limit movement and his leg secured in place with a splint.
"…He did this?"
"Yes," the capped man says as he flips around a chair and sits while itching the calluses on his hands. "He worked on you for a solid 3 hours."
The brunette and blonde both nod along as he speaks.
"It was that bad?" Quinn asks before sipping the tea, once again needing to adjust.
The brunette nods, crossing one leg over the other in his seat. "You were opened up," he says. "Shoulder, abdomen and leg. Deep enough that you wouldn't have made it without intervention." he says as his hands trace over the places he mentions on his own body.
The blonde tilts his head slightly, watching Quinn's reaction. "He used his specialty; it stopped the bleeding before it got worse and it held you together and kept you stable while he worked."
He gestures faintly toward Quinn's chest. "After that it was skill, well it is all skill, but his vector doesn't really effect the cleaning, stitching and binding, it only tells him how bad and where. Without that he wouldn't have been able to see the few internal bleeds you had."
Quinn looks down again, glancing himself over fully this time.
He's—
He stops, the realization settling in fully, once again he should be dead, but he isn't.
The blonde notices the shift immediately and stands, walking to a nearby table and grabbing a set of clothes before walking back over and setting them beside Quinn on the bed. "Figured you'd want those." he says as he returns to his seat
Quinn looks down at the neatly folded clothes; they very closely resemble his clothes from before which is probably intentional.
Quinn exhales slowly, then looks back at them.
"…Who are you?"
There's a brief silence before the blonde answers, tapping his chest lightly. "Richard."
He gestures to the second. "Augustus."
Then to the third. "Pierre."
Augustus waves once again before starting to fiddle with a top hat.
Pierre simply nods to Quinn and continues itching his calluses
Quinn nods once, committing the names to memory.
"…What happened?" he asks.
Pierre answers as he raises his gaze to Quinn.
"Honestly, that's what we would like to know."
He looks to Augustus and Richard who both nod.
Quinn closes his eyes for a moment, the memory coming back in pieces.
"The window," he says. "It came through the window, somehow it didn't see me at first, it was focused on a necklace."
He swallows, the dryness returning as he sips the tea.
"It climbed onto the desk and broke it. That's when it noticed me and attacked"
The room remains silent for a moment before it is broken.
"You fought it?" Richard asks while giving him more tea.
"…Didn't really have a choice."
"How do you feel?" Richard asks.
Quinn almost laughs, but it doesn't come out.
"…Alright for having almost died," he says.
Silence settles briefly once more before it is cut.
"My family."
The words come quicker now, urgency threading into them.
"Curfew—"
He tries to stand up and pain answers once again, even sharper then the first time, forcing his breath out of him as his body protests.
Augustus steps in, catching him before he tips forward too far. "Easy," he says, steadying him and helping him to his feet.
"We can get you home," he adds.
"Yeah," Richard says. "Not a problem."
Pierre stands and grabs the clothes, holding them out for Quinn.
Quinn looks at the three and chuckles as Augustus helps him steady and passes on the clothes from Pierre.
"I was not expecting such hasty agreement."
Richard chuckles and nods, adjusting his suspenders, then pauses as something clicks into place.
"…Actually, I have an idea."
The others glance at him, Augustus in the midst of grabbing his hat and jacket.
He gestures toward Quinn. "We can't exactly walk him back like this."
Quinn looks down at himself while putting on the pants
"He will walk weird and you can smell the blood on him, it's to suspicious and dangerous."
Augustus frowns slightly. "Go on."
Pierre nods along while putting the chairs back.
Richard's grin is brief. "A bar, we take him to a bar and have a beer, get the smell on us and it should mask all the peculiarities."
They all understand quickly.
Pierre chuckles as he adjusts his hat before beginning to clean up everything else.
Augustus smirks as he buttons up his jacket. "Drunk and late, the perfect excuse."
"Exactly," Richard replies, drawing out the E and snapping his fingers with a grin.
"Let's make this quick, we have to continue the patrol." Augustus says while looking at his pocket watch.
Richard nods and grabs his jacket, putting it on and holding his cane.
They begin to move without further discussion.
Quinn finishes getting dressed and notices the key in his pocket, the sudden hustle and bustle making it quickly become an afterthought as he rushes to put on his shoes.
Augustus grabs and umbrella and sets it beside Quinn. "Use this as a cane, it'll make sense for you to have it with all the recent rain" he says before walking over to the table he was sat at and grabbing a holster, putting it on his belt and checking a revolver.
Richard twirls his cane and helps Quinn to his feet.
Quinn gets to his feet, and his leg immediately trembles beneath him, barely willing to hold his weight, before he uses the umbrella as a cane and leans on it.
Once everything is dealt with Augustus makes his way upstairs, followed by Richard then Quinn with Pierre in the back in case Quinn falls.
They make it upstairs in the scent of herbs gets even stronger as they walk through what seems to be a tea shop, someone is in the kitchen working on something, but they pay no mind as the quartet walks through
The rain continues to pour in the street and loudly pelts the building.
"Looks like we are gonna need a few more umbrellas." Richard says as he walks to the door and grabs two off the rack.
Augustus takes one and tosses it to Pierre who had just made it upstairs
"Watch it!" Pierre barely catches the umbrella that almost smacks him in the face.
"Sorry." Augustus says while reaching out an apologetic hand.
Richard shakes his with a chuckle before opening the door and waiting for the two with Quinn already falling in step beside him
"Hurry hurry, we don't have all day"
Cool air spills into the room as the sound of rain pattering against cobblestone flows into the room.
Outside, the downpour is immediate and relentless, heavy enough to blur the street beyond, the only things visible are the lamps lining the street.
Richard steps out first while opening his umbrella, waiting for Quinn before stepping away from awning.
Quinn simply follows along using the umbrella he was given as a cane while adjusting his jacket.
Augustus rushes out while holding his hat to keep it from coming off. "Wait up!" he shouts.
Pierre follows a few steps behind, slowing to shut the door before opening the umbrella and trying to catch up with Augustus.
Richard and Quinn slow as Augustus swiftly makes it over, followed by Pierre who sets up his umbrella next to Richards making a simple canopy to protect from the rain.
"Jeez, you need to learn to wait up bro, you have been doing this stuff for years I tell you, years!" Augustus exaggerates to Richard as he pats water off the brim of his hat.
"Maybe you just need to learn how to catch up" Richard replies with closed eyes while trying to hide a grin.
Pierre turns his head to the side to hide a snicker.
Quinn who is still fighting his leg for each step is completely oblivious to this as Augustus begins to argue and Richard simply responds.
The four silhouettes slowly dissipate in the rain as they leave the street, the talking and laughing can still be heard over the pitter patter of the rain.