The Good Doctor

[Harlequin]

The twins paid the cabbie (after a bit of bitching about who would pay what) and helped Mac out of the cab in much the same way that they'd done at the club, carrying him up to the double doors of the Parlor.

If he was with it enough to be noticing things, he would see the building was imposing, but badly in need of repair. Also, the heavy mahogany doors opened on their own as they approached with no visible means of doing so.

Eight floors above, Sabrina looked up from the spread of tiny brass gears laid out on her desk, and tipped her head to the side.

"Lay him out on the chaise. I'll be with you shortly," she said, and her voice echoed low and melodic throughout the lobby as if from an invisible loudspeaker.

The twins did as instructed, carrying Mac through the lobby to a lounge area to the right of the doors (which closed behind them with a whisper) and setting him down on the faded red velvet cushions of a faux-victorian chaise. Sabrina herself descended the grand staircase shortly thereafter, dressed in a floor-length, long-sleeved black gown and black brocade corset and carrying an old-fashioned doctor's bag. From across the huge room, she wouldn't look particularly peculiar except in dress, but as she got closer her height and strangeness would become more apparent.

"Where did he come from?" she asked of the twins as she approached, "What happened?"

[pinkroses]

Mackenzie let the twins guide him inside, his feet stumbling over the worn path as he tried to help support himself but it was obvious if they released him Mac would be on the floor in half a second. His head was spinning with lack of blood and being upright wasn’t helping up – so finding himself lying down again was a blessing for the human.

His eyes were dull as he tilted his head to watch the figure drift towards him down the stairs. Considering the conversation he’d been having with Jude it wasn’t surprising the first thing which popped into his mind upon seeing the grace of the woman gliding towards him.

“Are you an angel?” he asked, a hazy look in his eyes. Zoheret was an angel, maybe they were everywhere, maybe he just hadn’t seen before. Maybe now he knew he’d see more, or more different creatures he’d never even heard of.

[Harlequin]

The twins looked down at him, then at each other,  and burst into identical snickers. Sabrina smiled as she knelt next to the young man, "Well aren't you just precious?" She set her bag down to lean over him, inspecting his wounds with her eyes, and then her hands – poking and prodding as gently as she could to determine the extent of his injuries. As she did, she answered him:"No, darling, I'm a witch."

Cursory inspection over, She snapped her fingers at the twins behind her to get their attention. "Hand, go get me a bowl of hot water. Map, answers." The shirtless twin hastened to do as he was bid, eager to help, and his brother heaved an annoyed sigh. "We found him on the floor at Risk. So we were thinking vampire attack."

Sabrina frowned. Risk. Of course. That would explain the reek of vampire all over the kid.  She understood the need for such a place – a venue for the undead of the city to gather and gain nourishment in relative safety – but she also found it tasteless. They had little regard for their donors, in her opinion, and the one time she had gone inside it seemed too self-celebrant to be genuine. 

"Tell me what happened," she said, gentle in her tone, but firm.

[pinkroses]

Mac had spent his whole life ignoring people laughing at him, so he paid no mind to the twin’s sniggers somewhere nearby, instead choosing to keep his chocolate brown eyes on Sabrina. He flinched slightly as she touched his wounds but didn’t try to get away from her probing.

The left side of his face was a mess of blood, with his eyebrow swollen, the split on his cheekbone and his cut lip from when he had been smashed against the wall. His side ached where Jude had kicked him violently and he thought he might have cracked a rib but he wasn’t sure. But those wounds were secondary to the tear in his throat which Jude had made no attempt to be tidy or gentle with and there was no healing evident from vampire blood.

“I was asking about Zoheret, she’s an angel. He told me, then he attacked me,” Mac explained briefly, his eyes flicking shut for a moment and his face creased in pain as talking stretched skin which didn’t need it and stirred up the swelling in his cheek.

So she was a witch? Weren’t they supposed to be scary? Evil? Like the green skinned woman he’d seen on the posters outside theatres… of course he’d never seen the show, or read anything about witches, but Adam had told him stories when he’d been little. This woman didn’t seem scary though, less intimidating that Zoheret so far. And he’d been brought here to be healed, hadn’t he? She didn’t seem like she was about to finish the job.

[Harlequin]

Sabrina nodded as he spoke, thoughtful. Zoheret. That name was coming up a lot lately. But why would a vampire care? They were a fickle lot, certainly, so that might have been all there was to it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of Hand, carrying a large basin full of hot water and a pile of brightly-colored towels – which he set down on a battered nightstand that Sabrina directed Map to scooch over to her. After she'd fished around in her bag and set out a selection of tools and bottles next to the basin, she began to slowly unwind the makeshift bandage around Mac's throat. The cloths fell to the floor with a wet plop. One of the towels went into the water, next, and she began to wipe away the old blood covering his throat. New blood trickled out of the messy punctures, but the torrent had become a slow ooze. She was very gentle with him, and her motions were practiced, sparing him as much pain as she could.

She bent to the wound, peering at it closely with one hand cupped on Mac's chin to get a better view. What she saw made her grimace. Whoever had done this to him had meant business.

"There is some very fine work to be done here," she told Mac, letting go of his chin and leaning over him again, "It would be best if you were asleep for it. Would you object to this?" She spoke patiently, as if he wasn't grievously injured. There was no point in him panicking.

[pinkroses]

Mac squeezed his eyes shut as the witch began to remove his bandages. He didn’t want to see her expression – he could feel it was bad. He wanted to try to explain more, so that he could distract himself more, but taking in a deeper breath to speak sent a shard of pain through his chest and so he stopped before even making the attempt.

“No, do it,” Mac breathed softly at Sabrina’s request to put him to sleep, but he forced himself to open his eyes and glance across at her, a slightly worried look in his eyes. “I can’t pay,” he murmured. He didn’t doubt she would still help him, but the idea of her holding him to some sort of debt worried him, or that she might expect payment when he woke up and get annoyed when he had nothing to give her.

[Harlequin]

Sabrina smiled down at him, as warm and benevolent as a demonic Mother Teresa, "Ah, but the best things in life are free," she informed him, touching her index finger to the center of his forehead, "Now sleep."

Mac would feel a wave of irresistible drowsiness passing over him, radiating outward from the place where their skin touched. The last thing he would see was the giantess bending her mouth to his wound; the last sound her voice ordering Hand to the kitchen for 2 units of B-positive.
~~

Once the IV was pumping new blood into him, Sabrina did her work well, and quickly, and with very sharp blades. .  The Treacle did most of the fine work for her – staunching blood flow and encouraging elastic arterial tissue to knit together as she stitched the skin of his throat closed with black nylon. The wound on his cheekbone got a pair of butterfly bandages, and an herbal compress took down the swelling above his eye. She had to cut his expensive new T-shirt off to bind the cracked rib, but that was ruined anyway.

When Mac awoke, he would find himself feeling well-rested and only slightly sore, in a strange room, in a strange bed. His jeans had been replaced with blue scrubs and his shirt was gone – though his chest was wrapped tightly in gauze. An IV had been inserted into the back of his left hand, and a saline drip was hung by way of a bent wire hanger from the bedside lamp. Also at his bedside was Sabrina ,humming softly to herself and knitting in a tall rocking chair.

[pinkroses]

Mackenzie watched her for as long as he could before his eyes drifted shut and sleep took him away from the pain although his last thought was wondering if he was going to wake up.

When he woke up later it was with a sharp jerk and his right hand instantly went to his left side where he usually slept with his violin beside him, curled up around it. But it wasn’t there. His eyes opened and darted around quickly as things came into focus and the memories of the night came back to him. No, his violin was safe, locked away out of harm’s way with his rucksack and the key was… where? It had been in his jeans pocket with about twenty bucks Zoheret had given him. But it was probably here somewhere. He didn’t care about the expensive clothes the angel had dressed him in, or even the money, it was just the key he needed.

A pain in his chest reminded him not to take in deep breaths and Mac lifted his hand when he felt the tug there, eyeing up the IV warily. He’d never been into a hospital before, but he was hoping it was meant to do him good, the pain was definitely dulled a lot and he was actually pretty comfortable.

The humming caught his attention last and the human let his head drop to one side to look across at the witch, his tongue drifting out to wet his lips slightly. He could see his key and the notes folded up on the bedside table in his line of sight but he focused beyond them at Sabrina.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice a little croaky as he spoke, making him clear his throat, his eye drifting shut for a moment. God, how had he been so stupid? He’d let himself get carried away with finding out about the angel and it had led to this.

[Harlequin]

The jerk and instinctive checking for belongings was noted from beneath her lashes, but not acknowledged. She spoke only when he spoke to her.

"You're welcome," she glanced up from her knitting to give him a warm smile. The purple yarn appeared at first glance to be forming a small sweater, but there were far too many armholes for it to be meant for any Earthly creature. She finished the row she was on, and set the whole mas of yarn and needles down in her lap.

"Now that you're not bleeding to death, we can get this out of the way: my name is Sabrina. This is my home." Normally, she would have extended a hand to be shaken, but sitting up too quickly would not do his ribs any favors. Her magic dulled the pain more than it normally would have been in a hospital, but not enough that it would give him the confidence to go gallivanting about."How are you feeling?"

[pinkroses]

Mac took a deep breath as she replied and opened his eyes again, relieved to find her smiling. He felt like he was trespassing by lying here. He hated being in other people’s houses, but he didn’t exactly have much choice at the moment. It was comfortable though, and warm. And a hundred times better than any of the beds in any of the shelters he'd slept in, and a thousand times better than lying on a cold doorstep.

A soft smile touched his lips at her comment of him bleeding to death. The time since Jude had attacked him seemed to be a somewhat hazy memory now, like it was years ago rather than a few hours and he could hardly believe he had almost bled to death. But he was still here, for now at least.

His chocolate coloured eyes cast around the room, a part of Sabrina’s home, before settling on the woman beside him, the witch. He could almost remember glimpses of her house as he’d been brought it, but it was hard to know what was real and what he’d imagined. Had she really said she was a witch?

“Sore, but not like I’m going to die,” he replied, slowly and carefully pushing himself up a little, propping himself up on the pillows and making sure not to jerk himself but still making his nose wrinkle up slightly with pain. He quickly made himself focus on Sabrina instead of the pain.

“My name’s Mackenzie. And I swear I’m not normally such an idiot to get myself in a mess like this,” he added, lifting his hand to lightly touch his cheek which she’d tended to.

[Harlequin]

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mackenzie." He'd find a piece of gauze held with athletic tape, and an admonishment from Sabrina, "Don't play with it." Under the tape were 3 nylon stitches – but if he continued to play with it, she'd slap his hand away before he could find that out.

"Well, they call it Risk for a reason." She dipped her head in a dismissive manner, "And you're not an idiot, I promise," she said kindly, Then – because she didn't have the whole story – "Probably."

She crossed her hands in her lap, "Now that you are not, in fact, actively bleeding, do you think you could tell me what happened?" She spoke softly, her tone empathetic. He had been through a great dela of trauma, and she did not want to make lightly of his reliving it "If you need more time, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

[pinkroses]

Mac let his hand drop away from his cheek at Sabrina’s instruction without needing further telling and letting his head drop back onto the pillow to watch her as she asked about what had happened. He gave a small smile at her offer to stay as long as he liked.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to get in your way. I’ll stay as long as the doctor orders” Mac said. He didn’t like to feel like he was intruding and he usually did when he was in other people’s homes. He didn’t even really like going to the shelters for a night because he felt like he was on someone else’s property – but sometimes you just had to get inside. He didn’t mean to sound ungrateful at the offer, but he got the feeling he was keeping someone else from being in their bed by being here.

“I didn’t go there to get drunk from, I went there to try to get some information – I guess I should have realised a vampire would want payment for that but… the other times I got drunk from they weren’t so violent,” he said, not really sure how much more explanation he could give. It had all happened so fast, did Sabrina need a blow by blow rendition?

“Are you really a witch?” he asked, vaguely remembering being told that just before he passed out and the reasons for him going to Risk calling that conversation to mind.

[Harlequin]

There were a lot of names for what Sabrina was – Priestess, Bokor, Shaman, sorceress – but witch was probably what Mac would be able to relate to the best. It also happened to be her favorite. "Yes," she told him, eyes squinched up at the corners with mirth. "And the witch demands you stay here at least a week. But, like she said, you can stay here as long as you like. If you have nowhere else to be –" and she was guessing here, but the fact that he seemed more worried about the location of his museum-locker key than about getting in touch with a parent or a lover or a parole officer told her that he might not have anywhere else to be "–That's what this place is here for."

And she din't need a blow-by-blow, but she wasn't done asking him questions, "Do you kow the name of the vampire that attacked you? And – not to pry – but what do you need to know about Zoheret? If you didn't get your answers before the attack, I may be able to help. If you still want to know." She wouldn't blame him if he didn't.

[pinkroses]

A week? And then longer? What was this place? Some kind of hostel? Or shelter for strays? From what he could remember the twins didn’t look like they needed taking care of. But then again he’d never thought he needed taking care of and here he was. He’d never stayed anywhere in a building longer than a night, it seemed like such a long time to be in one place.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, running his fingers over the sheets. It was pretty comfortable here, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad staying for a week. Going out injured would make him a target, he might have his things stolen, or get beaten up worse for the delight of those who roamed the streets looking for trouble.

“His name was Jude, at least that’s what he told me,” Mac said, then he shook his head slightly at the question of Zoheret. “I just wanted to know what she was. I knew she wasn’t human. He told me  she was an angel,” he said, his cheeks colouring slightly as he glanced up at Sabrina, vaguely remembering asking if she was an angel as well. He cleared his throat slightly, shifting his hips to give himself a moment to try to forget about that before going on. “I don’t know if that’s true, but it kind of makes sense. Do you know?” he asked, wondering if he was about to be laughed at for believing the vampire.

[Harlequin]

Her head bowed graciously in response to his thanks, but said nothing to otherwise call attention to it. Her lips pursed at the name of his attacker. Jude. She knew of a vampire that went by the name of Judas – a notorious scumbag lowlife and raging asshole who ran a local gang. If what she'd heard was true, such an act of wanton violence was business as usual for him; Mac was lucky to be alive.

Instead of laughing, she nodded again in response to his question "It is. There are several types of Angels, and she's one of the Dark ones," she told him, "Meaning she experienced a Fall – Lucifer-style – due to some sin, and performed a ritual to retain her Angelic powers – though she became twisted in doing so. Do you know her?"

[pinkroses]

Mac watched Sabrina intently as she explained clearly what Zoheret was. She hadn’t seemed all that twisted – pushy, vain, self-indulgent and demanding – but evil?

“I… no, not really.” Was it really just last night he’d met her? It seemed like so much had happened since then. 

“I spent the night with her, but I don’t expect to ever see her again. I was just curious because I knew she wasn’t quite… right.”

[Harlequin]

"She's pretty far from right," Sabrina agreed, "They're a pretty dangerous bunch, Angels.  But from what I've heard she's not terribly violent – just kind of a bitch."

Considering that subject exhausted, the halfbreed picked up her knitting and setting on the floor beside her chair. "Are you hungry?" she asked, then answered her own question "Family dinner should be on downstairs. I'll bring you up a plate." She stood and smoothed her long black skirt, fully intending on carrying through with that unless he had some protest.

[pinkroses]

Mac opened his mouth to protest at her providing food for him, not wanting to intrude – but if he was going to be here a week he would need to eat and yes, he was hungry.

“Yes, thank you,” Mac said with a nod. When she left him alone Mac rested back against his pillows, letting his eyes shut and trying to relax. He was exhausted – sleep from passing out was not as restful as normal sleep. He hadn’t slept well at Zoheret’s the night before, but rarely slept more than a couple of hours at a time normally given his situation. He soon found himself drifting off again, passing the time until Sabrina returned with a plate quickly.

His brown eyes opened as soon as he heard the door open and he was alert by the time it shut behind her. The food smelt amazing and he pushed himself upright with a small smile at the idea of some food in his belly.

“That smells great,” he said, watching Sabrina approach with more interest now he was a little more awake – noticing for the first time that she was definitely taller than average. It hadn’t really been noticeable when he’d been lying down and she’d been sat. He didn’t ask for now though, he’d asked a few things already so he could wait to find out more about Sabrina unless she offered it.

“When do you think I’ll be alright to go get my stuff? It’s just a couple of things,” Mac said as he accepted the plate. He just had a rucksack and his violin, which should be safe in the locker but he didn’t like not having his instrument with him. Playing it calmed him and he almost always had it with him.

[Harlequin]

Sabrina bore a breakfast-in-bed -tyle tray and set it over her patient's lap as he spoke. Steam curled up from a heaping plate of spaghetti with a clearly homemade sauce, and a tall glass of ice water.

 "I'd say thank you," she said, as she reclaimed her spot in the chair at his bedside, "But the tenants make the family dinners. Otherwise it's sort of fend-for-yourself. I'll show you around the kitchen later." And the rest of the bui;ding, but there was a lot of ground to cover and he definitely wasn't ready for it.

"You should be ready to be up and moving by tomorrow," she told him, "But I'd like you to take someone with you, just in case." Of what, she didn't say, "Hand would be glad to accompany you. He's been greatly concerned with your welfare."

[pinkroses]

Mac accepted the plate and after drinking half the water in one he began to cut up the spaghetti in a manner which would make an Italian cringe but meant he could eat it more easily. He would have no clue if it was home-made sauce or from a jar, but it tasted better than the food he ate usually and was a much bigger portion than he was usually able to get.

“How many people live here?” he asked, vaguely remembering that the place had looked quite large but having no clue of how many people could fit in somewhere like this. The idea of a family dinner was an alien one to Mac and he’d never cooked – fend-for-yourself he could manage but he guessed his methods weren’t quite what Sabrina had in mind.

He gave a small nod between bites as Sabrina said he would be able to get up the next day – grateful that he wouldn’t need to be parted from his things for too long, but he paused his eating and looked at the witch with surprise as she mentioned Hand being concerned for him. He was grateful for the help the twins had given him, but they’d got him here, he was bandaged up and they were strangers, why would he be concerned? Mac hadn’t paid his saviours another thought.

“Why?” he asked bluntly. It had been a long time since someone had been concerned for his welfare – not since Adam who had died when Mackenzie was twelve. Since then it had just been him looking out for himself since no one else had and he hadn’t tried to get close to anyone else.

[Harlequin]

"Forty-six," she said in answer to his first question, "Forty-seven if you decide to stay."

She pursed her lips for a moment before getting to his second, "The twins are an odd sort," she said, "But they mean well. I think he feels responsible for you, since he was the one that found you. He just wants to be sure you're alright."

She watched him cut up his spaghetti and resisted the urge to do it for him – or at least show him the fork-twirling trick that most children learned when they were very young. It did, however, prompt her to ask: "How long have you been living...on your own?"

[pinkroses]

Mac raised an eyebrow as she told him how many people lived in the building. There were a couple of shelters in the city which could hold around that many people, but in one woman’s house? Her home? It also made him a little wary of bringing his things here – things could go missing so easily but he felt a little better about it knowing Sabrina was in control here. She didn’t give the impression that she would stand for any business of that kind. And it sounded like she was actually offering to let him stay longer than just recovery. In the shelters it was first come first serve, in the morning you had to get out. And normally he was fine with that, he’d had to be. The idea of having a confirmed place to go back to was very tempting. But he would deal with that when he was healed.

“Oh, right, I see,” Mac said quietly at her explanation of Hand’s concern. He was having a little trouble getting his head around it, but he could kind of understand. It just wouldn’t have occurred to him that someone would worry about him.

He had just scooped a forkful of pasta into his mouth when she returned a question and he finished chewing as he watched her. He heard the pause and wondered how much she had guessed about him in a short time.

His fingers twitched slightly on the cutlery as he tried to count how long he’d been alone. When there was little routine in his life it was hard to keep count – especially when the winters seemed to just all merge into one.

“I think… I guess over ten years now… by myself,” Mac said cautiously, wondering if she was going to ask next how long he’d been on the streets. It wouldn’t be that hard to guess. He obviously didn’t have anyone he cared about contacting to let them know he was here. And nowhere he worried about getting back to. Since she’d obviously worked it out there was little point waiting for her to ask.

“I can’t remember ever having somewhere to stay properly, not like this.”

[Harlequin]

"Never?" there was no disbelief in her voice, but Sabrina's head canted slightly to the side, concerned. Her gaze roamed carefully over his frame, reevaluating what she'd assumed of him. She'd believed he was homeless, but not chronically so. His hair was too well-kept, his spine unbent with the weight of disease. And he had all his teeth – despite what might have been "Jude's" best effort to unburden him of them – in relatively good condition.

Sabrina knew from experience that it took a great amount of willpower to keep up one's appearance while living solely on one's wits, and she didn't know Mac well enough to judge whether he was one of those, or if he was supplementing his income via unsavory means. But she would reserve judgement until she had an answer. Maybe that locker key had something to do with it.

"How do you sustain yourself?" she asked, again merely curious.

[pinkroses]

Mac gave a soft smile at her question, then winced slightly as it tugged the cuts in his face before glancing sideways at the key on the table beside his bed.

“I play violin. Pretty well. People give me money if they like it, or for requests. I can play just about anything after hearing it a couple of times,” Mac said with a small shrug, not sounding as though he was boasting at all, just stating facts. He could never earn enough for rent, but he could eat – most days.

And he wasn't ashamed either - this was his life. He'd been chucked into it and made the most of the chances he'd been given. People judged him, he could see it when they gave him money, or when they walked past with their eyes lowered. But he made do and didn't let them effect him. He'd never have survived this long if he had done.

[Harlequin]

Her eyes scrunched up at the corners as she smiled, truly delighted by his revelation. It had been awhile since she'd housed a truly talented musician! And he had to be talented indeed to be able to keep himself up so well on the streets.

"You'll have to play for me sometime." Her eyes followed his to the bedside table. So THAT'S what was in the locker.

She was doubly glad that she didn't have to tell him that selling himself out of the house would only be permitted under very stringent circumstances. She had had the conversation many times, but it was almost always awkward for the person on the receiving end of the lecture.

[pinkroses]

Mac couldn’t help but give a smile in response to her wide grin and enthusiasm. It seemed more genuine that Zoheret’s interest in his skill and he didn’t often have people who really wanted to listen to him play – not who said that they did anyway. People stopped to listen, occasionally he got requests if he had a sign up saying her took them, otherwise people hurried on past with their heads down, hearing but not really listening.

“I’d be happy to, after I’ve got my violin back. It should be safe where it is, but I don’t like leaving it for long,” Mac said, explaining why he wanted to go get it as soon as he was able to. “It was given to me by a friend and there’s no way I could ever afford another if anything happened to it,” he added with a small frown, thinking about the times people had tried to take it from him whilst he’d been on the streets, or a couple of people who had offered to buy it for a lot less than he knew it was worth.