as written by Dashmiel and Tiko
When Ragenard reached the make-shift operating room, Reinhard was washing his hands over a small basin sink. He had already sent Alfred and Valentino to relocate Vanessa, and Ragenard passed them both by as they were wheeling her to another location. She had yet to regain consciousness, but her color was vastly improved from when she had been brought in.
Baron too was still unconscious, hooked up to IV drips and monitors that beeped quietly through the room. There was a bloody tray of utensils nearby, and several fragments of silver that Reinhard had dug out during surgery.
Ragenard’s stomach lurched at the sight of his recovering brother. The carnage before arriving here was as normal to Ragenard as breathing, and it was the mundane specter of convalescence gathering around Baron that actually shook him.
“Hey old man. How’s he doing?” he asked Reinhard with a simple nod for a greeting, his voice tinged with weariness and his shoulders slumping a bit. Now that he was away from the others he could drop some of the bravado off and allow himself to feel the gravity of the situation.
Reinhard shook his head in response.
"Alive, that's all I can say really," he told Ragenard. "This isn't exactly a state of the art trauma center. I've done what I can for now. What happened anyways?" he asked. "There's not many people alive that know about his silver allergy. Even the knife wound, the blade was silvered. This wasn't luck, it was deliberate."
“It was” Ragenard replied darkly. “We have a rat among us.”
"A rat?" Reinhard asked with an arch of his brow. "You're certain?"
“He seemed to be, before going lights out” Ragenard replied with a jerk of his chin towards Baron’s prone form. “Fuzzy on the details, too fuzzy to hazard a guess. Getting details out of excited mongrels is not easy. What little I’ve gotten I don’t like the sound of. It’s been a hell of a night, old man. A hell of a night.” He added with a deep sigh.
"Shit," Reinhard muttered.
He fished out a box of cigarettes and lit one up. Smoking in a hospital was one of the perks of their entire operation being highly illegal. He glanced over at Baron before shaking his head.
"He's sedated right now," Reinhard explained. "Can't risk waking him and wind up with him shifting while he's still critical. I'm not a veterinarian," he added with a snort. "Why don't you get some sleep. I'll let you know if there's any change in his condition."
“I could use a nap” Ragenard said as he suppressed a yawn. “Not sure I’ll get much of one, but I’ll try for one all the same soon. Before that happens however, I need James’ phone. Seems he got some fishy tip that got this chain of dominoes falling last night” he added as he followed suit and lit a cigarette of his own.
"His things are over there," Reinhard answered with a nod of his head towards the nearby counter. "Everything he had on him anyways.
It wasn't much. His wallet, his keys, a half-empty box of cigarettes, his cell phone, and the remains of his leather jacket that had been cut away to get it off from him.
Ragenard moved to the counter and gazed at Baron’s effects. He hefted Baron’s phone on his hand for a second as an inscrutable look played across his face before pocketing it. After a moments consideration, he also grabbed Baron’s keys and cigarettes (the latter accompanied by a look at his brother’s condition and the rueful thought that they would do him more good now than they would his brother) before turning back towards Reinhard.
“I’m too tired to give you the proper run down, Reinhard. But you should know it’s bad. Hasn’t been this bad in decades. We got a handful of dead so far, and they even burned the Den down.” Ragenard said wearily. “I’m not sure how the near future will hold out, but I don’t think we’re out of work for you yet old man.”
"Scions?" Reinhard asked.
“Scions.” Ragenard confirmed. “Worse, Rowan decided working with bloodsuckers was easier than waiting for his balls to drop” he added.
"It's always the fucking Scions," Reinhard growled with another shake of his head as he took a drag of his cigarette. "Alright. You can fill me in tomorrow," he said. "Get on out of here so I can get back to work."
“Alright. Let me know if something comes up with James.” Ragenard replied as he waved and made his way for the door, the weight of Baron’s cellphone heavy in his mind.