chapter 10
Corinthians 15:10 part 4
Readers note: set pre-transversal, pre-Manga. Giovanni centric, focusing on being Rocket. A medical scare during a
mafisio uprising is not what the doctor ordered. Viridian falls into anarchy.
Persian snuggled against Grace's chilly feet. Insulted at the request that slippers be fetched.
What was her trainer, some stinky, sooty, Arcanine?
Nothing needed fetching. Persian was right there. She could be warm, and purr, to help circulation along.
Pinned in place by protective Persian, Grace made Giovanni her gofer. He obliged, ignoring Persian's jeered, "Arcanine! Arcanine! Why don't you chase your tail!".
After tattling to Grace about the cat's jabs, they petered off in an irritated "merp!". Grace smirked, looking up from flicking the cat's ear, smug incarnate, while Persian glared up at the woman. The feline's face was all angles and aggrivation.
Or rather, the cat sported a charming pair of accute angled ears.
"If you don't keep your claws to yourself, Little Miss Furball, you'll get a bath."
Flicking the untwanged ear, Persian rolled her eyes up to her trainer. Giovanni pointedly Ignored the hissed suggestion that Giovanni trade Grace out for another female.
Drinks and papers in hand, he passed up the pages she asked for. For a while, Grace flipped through them, when she was done she tipped the arcane-looking text towards him. It took some time but she walked Giovanni through the meaning.
She had to explain the chemical names, the cause for the imbalances, or rather, the suspected causes.
"I'll need further tests to be safe but... If we're lucky all I'll just need to take a pill twice a day. The symptoms are quiet, and most standard tests don't cover thyroid levels since.. The only reason they caught it was..."
Grace sighed, the noise was part frustration, part pain, part shame.
They'd be trying for a child for over a year, and been over their views enough that Giovanni knew the futility of arguing against her pain. He felt her body would produce a child when it was ready. For Grace, pregnancy was more entangled with morals and Arceus, and as a result, she had been harboring something like religious guilt over her infertility.
The blood test results explained so much. Her chills and sensitivity to winter. Her struggles with maintaining her weight.
"Not to be a pessimist... But what's worse case cause?" Giovanni asked, taking the papers back and passing Grace her cup.
"Thyroid cancer, but they check for all cancers in my tri-annual bloodwork that I have to keep up with for job safety."
Suppressing a chill Giovanni set the pages aside and settled beside her. If he was more tactile than normal Grace didn't seem to mind.
Nestling her head against his chest she held him as tight as he held her.
"This will be the easy route. I'm going to do two tests, I'll come back clean, and just have to pick up a script twice a month. That's all this is going to be."
"That's all it's going to be." Giovanni echoed. "And if it isn't, we'll deal with what comes, together."
Xxx
What came, was immediate, bloody, and nothing as sane as a medical emergency.
They lost the world in bits and pieces, courtesy of a power-hungry madman.
It started the evening after Gio's late night. He'd detailed that hellish evening with an air of resignation and aggravation Over dinner, once everyone had left, he'd told of his abduction in tones suited to a bad day at work.
The short version. Viridian had a new Don. The man was not content to take Gio's money and leave him alone. He'd manipulated the League network to make it seem as if there was a case of a rampaging rabid 'mon sighted in the warehouse district. There'd been cops who'd led him to the "site of the disturbance" except there'd been no 'mon.
After a scuffle, and a dose of sleep powder, he'd woken up hooded and bound to a chair by a shackle. His team was locked and sealed... And from what he could hear under the muffling of the hood someone wanted to "talk".
The Don, the voice announced, because the hood wasn't taken off and the voice was static-y, like a synthesizer had been used, wanted the Sakaki's good little mareep son pressed into his services. His reasoning, professional pride, and the sick knowledge that Gio, who'd fought tooth and nail for his pristine reputation, would be above suspicion.
He'd been hauled into a side office, with windows coated in thick electric tape, cork walls, and dumped with more paperwork than he'd seen since the last Viridian Co tax reports and audits. Been told if he didn't do it right Rocket could pick up Grace at any time.
Then, considering the scare Grace had endured at her work, Rocket had set the wheels in motion to gather her up anyway. Breaking
familgia honor in one stroke.
"It's then I got scared. Really scared." Gio breathed the confession. Looking sick. "A mobster who doesn't hold to the customs is infinitely more dangerous than one who does."
Honestly, Grace was surprised that Gio'd willingly gone with her "fresh air" jaunt earlier. That he'd waited until
after they'd gone over Grace's paperwork, until dinner, to tell her what happened.
A mild imbalance seemed so... Trivial... in comparison to them both now being neck-deep in Mob affairs.
"It wasn't trivial. And honestly, if it was something that needed immediate or regular treatment. If it couldn't wait... I'd have told you immediately and we would have gotten the hell out of Kanto even if we had to hike on foot to Pewter's airport. This Don may have the local transport under his thumb-,"
His was an odd kingdom, Grace learned. The Don ruled every cab, every bus. Had access to 'mon locking technology and... From what Gio could gather from the papers, did most his business in Vermillion. Viridian was something like a snow bird stop or something to the mad man. And to realize this might be an annual thing, where this nut case poked and prodded at them for his seasonal giggles...
Grace wished she didn't believe this was happening. It felt like the world was crazy. But there was proofin both their call logs. In Andre, Patricia, and Hopper's hacked accounts. In the intimidation efforts and kidnapping, a fate she had dodged, but Gio,
who fought for a living, had not.
That last bit scared her more than.anything. chewing on her lip, Grace gave herself a little mental shake, because Gio was still talking....
"-But not much else. If he had the utilities, for example, he'd have sent a repairman to either us poison by playing with the gas lines, or just cut us off to flush us out. He doesn't appear to have a solid grip on Intimidations or Protection since, no goons..."
Gio's checkered family history was a blessing in that he knew the ins and outs. But that didn't mean Grace wasn't scared out of her ever-loving mind.
"Gio, I know you have
really good reasons to hate the cops... But it feels like a cop thing. This feels like an I
nterpol thing."
"I've already tried to call emergency services." And to prove it he did so again. His phone looped to a local cab company, to the announcement of having to wait twelve hours. Gio hung up. "They couldn't have hacked all the phones. I don't think he has the tech considering he had me doing literal
paperwork for him. It's probably a re-router. The strength on those is minimal. Well," he corrected. "The ones I've seen in corporate circles. God knows what is available criminally."
"We could walk to Viridian, and go to the station."
Their house was on the edge of the forest. It wasn't that far away from Viridian City proper.
"Those officers were decked out enough that I'm almost certain they are real. All it would take was one interview in separate rooms and his agents could get to you...."
"And what about you, Gio? You aren't immortal. You aren't even protected now, since money and blood don't mean anything to this bastard. So don't go all "it's for my protection" crap... You need to be safe too."
And even now, after years, such a basic thing like her caring broke him. His expression twisted, and he swallowed, clearly choking back tears. Once composed, he let out a watery sigh, and shook his head.
"We
aren't powerless. He's trying to make us feel that way, but we're not. I think, between the forest around us and its... inclination... towards me he won't be able to approach our home from that angle. Right now, here, we're physically safe."
"But we can't go out, and can't reach out."
"Not until we figure out where that tracker is. Once it gets late I'll set Persian to it."
Xxx
No calls out could be made, but calls in were possible as Patricia proved third day in.
Suffice it to say Grace had been able to report to her work
once, using Patricia as a proxy to report that she'd "caught a cold". The older woman had been reasonably spooked at the idea that others might be listening in and she hadn't called back since.
From the radio silence from her other friends Grace knew that Patricia had spread the word.
It was the theory she said out loud. Wordlessly she fretted and Giovanni juggled working remotely, a feat done with sending paperwork out tied to Beedril or Persian, and keeping her steady.
"It's safer for them to be distant," Giovanni advised. They were picking through canned goods and making a meal plan for the next few days for something to do. Unfortunately, they were close to needing to do a shop before this disaster. Thier options were a patchy collection of winter stores, noodles, and varried canned vegis.
They hadn't restocked yet, it was just odd and ends, and things were truely dire. the boxed pasta was getting scanty. And while Giovanni assured her they had the means for him to cook fresh...
That he was
italiano enough to cook whatever they needed...
"If you can use this and not melt our guts out, I'll accept that."
"Why do we have
spicy, picked, artichoke hearts..." He grumbled as they went over thier stock. A note of horror creeping in as some of the backshelf finds were seeing the light of day.
"Clearence sale?" Grace suggested, though there was no discount tag to back that guess. "To try something new?"
His raised eyebrow said more about how stupid both of those ideas were then any words.
Well Grace, by accident, found the perfect counter to that snarky look. She pulled out a pink glass jar crowned in dust bunnies.
All the better to gawk at its title.
"Gio, why in mercy's name go we have
pickled,
sugared,
slowpoke tails?"
"I plead temporary insanity."
Grace couldn't help but laugh at that. It was the first time in days. Gio's lips quirked as he announced the jar was "expired" and chucked it in the trash
All without bothering to check if it really was.
He'd been dealing with their isolation with the same level of lukewarm aggravation he'd level at a trainer at his gym stacked to the top with water types. When she asked how could he, he shrugged, assuring her he'd waited out more rabid paparazzi storms.
Rocket's present activities were a slightly murderous temper tantrum, in comparison.
But then Gio was a shameless introvert. And he had several rooms that were wall-to-wall books to while away the time. He took Viridian going to the social Houndooms as a means to catch up on his to-read list.
Grace, who thrived off of the complex relationships between herself and her patients, the doctors, and staff, all spanning between several hospitals,.was
not doing well.
The constant silence got to her. And while Gio did try to fill the the quiet... he wasn't equiped to fill that big of a void. So her portable radio from her collage days was employed. Carted every which way, day one of its appearence had made them lay down some ground rules. Not in the bedroom. No Orre country music. No talk shows or news.
Grace found the device a Arceus send, Giovsnni thought it sounded like a taunting metronome. But letting it drive a wedge between them (aka Grace going off to listen to some of Orre's music) made both paranoid. To seek the other out, even if the proximity of the (per Gio) God damned radio was starting to drive him to fantasize about murder.
Despite being richer than sin the Sakaki's had one television set. It was off more than on as both prefered books. That changed for several days to fill Grace's need to.hear other voices. Until Viridian news, Kanto news, dominated the airwaves. The world had just picked this week to show everything was awash in Mob-related insanity. Viridian's underworld falling apart at the seams was the highlight of every broadcast and everyone had an opinion.
The murders and shootings were scandilous. Experts from far flung Galar weighed in as the most recent footage showed the dead were being left in the streets. The poorest district was turning into a dystopian nightmare as Don turned against Don... well
Capo against Capo, Giovanni corrected the Galaruan host with a tired smile.
"If I were to suspect I think the Don overreached. Bloodshed this bad means he overstepped in some way, the fact that I recognize five different families..."
Noting her distaste he let the commentary drop off with a quiet hum.
The day after Galar's broadcast the Mayor of Viridian declared a curfew, it was the hot topic of the morning shows from as far as Kalos.
The television, their sole window to the world, was given a rest after that.
Though horrid at anything exercise based that
wasn't running, Grace was dragged outside to practice training. Though she wasn't a trainer she was conscripted into helping exercise Gio's 'mon.
He supervised her efforts while he scraped Rhydon's claws and horn to deadly points with special, diamond-encrusted, tools.
A week later, after braving the pickled, artichokes of death, they needed to get out. Well Grace
needed to, Giovanni had legitimate work he didn't dare put off. The violence was increasing to levels that he found disturbing. And as Viridian's gym leader he decided that to shut his gym down. As well as to contact Lance to make sure the League was going to redirect challengers away from Viridian.
"The next fool thing these lunatics will do is to assault traveling kids. The second a trainer dies that'll give Lance and his megalomaniac Elite free reign to raze my city to the ground." He'd growled to her as he shuffled around their living room. Rooting around for what he needed to go out.
Thier standards of living had decreased a bit. There were messes here and there. Mainly piles of books, a few cups, but the odd bits of clothing had started to migrate in. And linger. And breed.
Today, Grace decided, as Gio picked up a pile of odd and end shirts that "he'd mean to fold" but "forgot" was laundry day. Everything that didn't need dry cleaning was being done.
For everything that
did need a professional touch, they could shunt it into a different room. It wasn't like they lacked for space.
As for Gio he found his spare keys in a pocket and claimed he
fuzzily remembered tossing his fedora towards a corner after having come in from a morning patrol. When pressed he confessed that that was two days ago.
But he needed that hat. Only this lost fedora would match his suit, and heaven forfend if he stepped outside of the door with a bare-head or slightly off-hue hat.
He would just
die.
"Perhaps less witty repartee and more helping with the
looking would be nice." He gritted out at her.
"I didn't throw it." Grace countered, "also i haven't been channeling my inner college frat boy and leaving things a mess.
My clothes are in the closet."
Well, piled in the closet closest to the dryer. But Grace wasn't one to quibble semantics.
Persian, having crawled onto her lap to watch the show while warm and surrounded by nice smells, watched her master's odd little hunting game with quivering whiskers and squinted eyes.
And purrs. So much purring. Even someone who wasn't a poke' whisperer could tell the noise was smug.
"Are you sure it was in this room you threw it at the direction of the door?" Grace sighed.
It was round three of him rooting around the same pile of books. She knew him. He was slowing down, which meant he was going to give up and flop into the nearest chair soon. The fact that she could see a few of his favorites in that pile added fuel to the fire.
She'd been dressed and ready to go for twenty minutes now. He'd been rooting for thirty minutes, going on thirty-five.
"I mean, this never gets odd saying, but we
do live in a mansion. There are so many other rooms you could have tossed it, and it toward a door, and it not get there."
He was standing stiff, drawing deep breaths, clearly trying not to scream. And really, Grace didn't blame him. She'd been personally alternating between bitchy and weepy. She got it. It didn't make the rush of irritation at him, and the world, any less hot and bitter though.
Grabbing at the last scraps of her maturity, Grace ran her hand over the cat's broad head. Firm, gentle, strokes around the gem that made red eyes peep open, but only a crack.
"Persian, sweetheart. May I avail your aide with the promise of a nice fire-roasted slab of seaking, or whatever the deli has in stock fish wise, to save Gio from himself?"
A milk-white tail flicked, tapping a one-two tune against the couch.
"Pert?"
"No idea what you said," Persian tipped her head into the pets with a rumbling purr. "Gio?"
"We do not have fresh organic milk, it expired you-"
"We'll add it to our shopping list... Gio we are going to run out of fresh food and your 'mon need special feeds. We are going to have to shop and with it being mid-day if we go out now we can safely get back before the cops start herding people in... God," Grace hissed, revelation hitting hard. "I live in a police state dystopia where the bad guys won, all we need are the robocops."
Silence, where Giovanni clearly reigned in his temper. "We can live without..."
"Not without breaking several poaching laws starting in three days. Do you want your team commandeered by
sbrrio?"
His sulky expression said that that was a low blow. But he was listening, not shutting her down. It was an improvement.
"Three hours, just
three hours out of the house."
It would have been a half hour before the chop shop incident. Thier gutted car had been dumped at Viridian Gym days ago. Dumped at a meter parking space no less. It was an obvious taunt, one that was racking up the bills, but with Viridian's Don running the transport industry they weren't in a rush to move thier damaged car or get a new one.
"We go out, get to the gym, hit the market, do a blood draw, and walk home, that's all I'm asking."
Her last trip out had been to her work to get that first blood draw and report in for indefinite leave. Flanked by Nidoqueen and 'King because the security at Azu' had Giovanni pegged as a thief and no amount of evidence would disuade them.
This last stick was a double check, and it was a low blow. Grace knew Gio was quietly stewing over her blood test results. Arceus, he'd been almost eager to spring for an out-of-network facility to run her numbers. Guiltily, Grace was using Gio's need for results as an escape rope . Because once they got phoned in Grace would have to go out to get what medications were prescribed.
Persians purrs kicked up a notch. Giovanni scraped his hands over his face with a cute, gumbled groan, that made her think of his Rhydon on a rainy day. Really, if he did that when he lost to a gym challenger, he'd probably be less feared.
Still, it was rather nice that that fun fact was all hers. That he trusted her to hear him be vulnerable, and pissy, and all the other emotions that he
genuinely felt rather than his chill public persona.
"Fine." He groaned, worn down at long last. "
Fine."
Persian, rolling off the couch, plopped onto the hardwood floors with a thump. Tail up, she wandered deeper into the house. Bemused by something only he could hear Giovanni gathered the tattered bits of his composure and followed her out of the room... Grace could hear one pair of steps going up the flight of stairs,
them there was a click, then a muffled yell.
The tone was outrage, rather than pain.
Still, she had no clue until he flipped from Italian to Kantoian, then she was able to understand what he was saying, rather than rely on his tones.
"Persian, what the
hell... Why are
half my hats in your cat bed!"
Xxx
There'd been a man watching the gym, and the second they saw Grace watching him he slipped off into the crowd. Grace waited outside, under 'Queen's watchful eye while Gio waded through a small crowd of adolescents. He was hardly at his kindest, barking at them to buzz off. When a few tried to challenge him on the steps up, when the group clustered about him, scared and worn and wanting something familiar, he shut them down with a snarl.
At the top steps of his Gym, Giovanni addressed the masses
"I'm not the mayor, I'm not a politician, and I don't owe anyone goodwill or sponsorship, so I will tell you the truth your parents, brothers, sisters, policemen, and politicians,
won't."
"Kanto is going to hell. We're lucky here in Viridian because we're catching fire first."
"You aren't heroes. This is Mob business, and it's no place for kids... Go home. If that isn't safe, Celadon and Vermillion are hosting emergency twenty-four-hour surf training for any and all trainers with water 'mon. My advice for anyone around the age of conscription is to catch a water
anything and go to those locations, get trained, and get the hell out. For those journeying to supplement your family's income, you can continue your journeys at Johto or Tajho. The money transfer system's a bitch, but there are laws about fleecing minors. You'll be somewhat protected as long as you're under seventeen. For those thinking about Tojho, i suggest you brush up on your italian and get waterfall training. Surge is the only Kanto Gym leader certified to do so. And Vermillion, for those wuth no clue how to read a map, is that way."
He pointed roughly the right way, fishing for his keys in his pockets, utterly done with the gathering of kids.
"Regardless, Viridian Gym is closed. Get out of here before the
sbrrios arrest you all for loitering, or arrest me for encouraging unlawful gathering."
The front doors slammed, and Gio was inside for about twenty minutes before stepping out. The irritated expression on his face stilled any protesters.
Not that there were many of them.
Most of the kids had drifted off in ones and twos, a few had asked her for directions to the local Pokecenter, on their way out.
The maybe-a-Rocket, maybe-not, was long gone. But perched on a the tree where the man had been, was a hoothoot. It stared at her with unblinking red eyes. Wisely Grace did not meet those eyes. Hypnosis was a thing after all.
Giovanni stormed out of the Gym. Pointedly ignoring the straggling trainers that parted like the red sea at his coming.
"Lance gets stupider and stupider...
Think of the future of the 'mon, their potential stunting... as if the
kids attached to the 'mon were an inconvenience rather than the next generation..."
Grace hummed and twined her arms around his waist, stilling some of the venom. A nudge got him to look up and in the right direction.
"F-" noting a few wide-eyed kids he coughed. "
Freaking wonderful. Beedril, persuade the
Capo's pet to consider a new career choice."
Beedril's wings swirled in excitement, the bug was up and chasing the bird in a heartbeat. Bug chased owl around the gym once, twice, then a string of white spat by the bugtype caught the bird's back. Gummed the wings.
A jerk on the line of string shot and the hoothoot was slammed into a tree. Beedril descended, spitting more white goop. With practiced turns of the flay of his blades, and hind legs, goop was woven into binds.
All but professionally trussed, the bird was hauled it into some shrubs, screaming hollow hoots in terror as it went. A wet hacking sound affirmed Beedril had spat more string shot out of sight. The ensuing silence suggested the white stuff had been used to seal the bird's mouth.
Grace, familiar with Beedrul's hunting tricks, pulled one curious child away from having "a quick peek". Spinning the kid so they were looking the other way. The others, wiser and older, were already covering their eyes. There was a rattling croak, then a misting of feathers and blood, then nothing but silence.
Until the munching started.
"Beedril will catch up." Giovanni decided with a wince, because a child close to him looked ready to start wailing. He nudged them forward, and that snapped the small cluster out of thier shock and got them moving along.
"Alright, shows over, we're going towards Fifth Street, and the Center's at Sixth, you can come along or not, but I am challenging no one, and answering no questions, am I clear?"
Crystal.
And it was more than the kids that got the message. There were no more men in corners, or left behind mon, after that. It was clear until after the store, where they were encumbered, that Rocket tried again.
Grace was honestly distracted, still wrangling over the embarrassment of having both Queen and King march in with her during the blood draw since the clinic was a "one person allowed in" sort of facility.
"So you're denying service 'mon?" Giovanni drawled, dark eyes half-lidded, tones that dangerous silken note that preceded lawsuits.
Grace understood why he'd insisted she have protection. She got an up close and personal reason in the lobby no less. There was someone wearing Mob colors in the waiting area, and she nearly turned on her heel for it... But damned if she didn't get this done today. So she did, and nothing went wrong beyond scolding Nido not to hiss at the help when they took her blood. When she slipped out the Mobster was still waiting, looking at Gio's 'mon with a calculating gaze, then Grace was out.
Still blushing, and wincing a bit because it'd taken the tech three sticks, Grace was fine, just struggling to wrestle down the lingering embarrassment. She wasn't very successful. And was stuck revisiting an old familiar revelation.
She
hated it when Gio used his clout to do things like that.
Trying to shelve the feeling,.Grace tried to focus on the good. A nice thing, she mused, about having bulky 'mon, was they made great carriers and gofers. The dreaded top shelf at the shop was easily surmounted, for example. They could bring home twice as many goods as the car.
Half the team was designated carries, the others were free to roam and block off any who got too close. So far, the 'mon had stopped two pickpockets, and Rhyhorn was a wonder. The short mon had mastered the feat of being an ambulatory grocery cart, perfect balance and a roiling type of locomotion kept their food rolling gently back and forth alo g his ridged back without a can or piece of fruit falling off of him...
Persian, insisting on carrying her fish, had a bag hooked to her collar, flopping like a foul-smelling superhero cape over her shoulders. Giovanni and Grace were enduring backpacks with goods in them so Rhydon, Nidoqueen, and Beedril could move about without worries.
In saner times this much protection would have been excessive.
In the present day, it wasn't enough.
In the 'mon's defense, they had two targets to watch over rather then the usual one. Also, they were used to the formal arena. Not a mob of people, some in gang colors, others not, who decided the intersection of Third and Flint was a good place to start World War Four.
Afterward, between memory, and Gio's terse police statements, Grace was able to get a grasp of the gist. Third and Flint wasn't prosperous by any means, with a slew of tight apartments and cramped communal living. I was a working man's district that was the outer ring between city and Forest. There had been a fight in one of the houses. Some meeting of the Mob went sour, shots were fired. The residents of a nearby house had had their windows blown out, and that'd been the straw that broke the camelrupt's back.
The private scuffle turned into a riot as weary civilians with 'mon turned on anyone who looked Italian adjacent. They were separated in the madness that followed. Grace ran, dodging raging 'mon, and men, when gloved hands grabbed at her backpack. She shrugged off, her goods. Stopped the hands at her back from using her packs as a means to drag her down.
A glance confirmed that her assailent was a leering man with a black shirt with a hellishly familiar red R on it. Her taser was in her hand in a heartbeat. Those red R's made beautiful targets, and the closest Rocket went down... But there were others. They tackled her, knocked her down, only to haul her up. She spat and screamed, and was just another victim in the scrum.
It took her a moment to realize they were dragging her towards an alley. The chilling realization that they had a plan, that this riot could have been staged just to enact that plan, set a fire to her. Grace almost broke free. Definitly downed one of her captors with a lucky kick, but there was five of them and she was fighting prone.
It wasn't a recipie for coming out alive, much less winning.
Hauled out of the fight, thrown deeper into the alley by a brutal tug of her red hair and shove, the bang of her hitting the side of the nearest dumpster rattled her teeth. Her legs bucled and she sprawled at the base, trying to get up as her dazed brain heard the click of switchblades being drawn and realized how utterly fucked she was.
She'd of been dead if not for a good samaritan hiding 9n the fire escape. He was some young man with a zigzagoon and a dashing smile and perchance for tackling alongside his 'mon. One 'mon and man against four trsined kilkers was a recipie for a blood bath. Even with Grace tossing bits of broken brick into the fight. It wasn't a softball, but her aim was good enough to keep the Rockets busy.
Thank God none of these Rockets were trainers.
The trio lasted long enough for a familiar beedril to sweep in and skewer the stragglers. Some 'mon roared, and then it was
hailing despite it being a mid summers day. Teeth chattering, breathe steaming, she sent Beedril out into the mess. Assured the bug that she'd hide here. Because if there was a water type stong enough to screw with the weather-
"He needs you, i'll be safe here."
Fireescape man helped her get up. Then they scaled up the side of the building, because so few people looked up.
The young man, who introduced himself sarcastically as Zoon, had been running his own errands before armageddon hit. As to "why help her" he figured 'why not", he was screwed out of his food, might as well play hero... Seeing her safe he'd considered going back into the fray... but the sound of wet tearing stopped him.
He decided to stay with her after that.
She waited and waited, just glad this place was overlooked. No one else had gotten the bright idea to hide here, they were scrambling to find sanctuary inside homes, and cars. Though the last might of been more opportunistic grabbing of the moment. Gio's voice howling her name made her head snap up.
"Here!"
In moments he was there, and while not safe, the world was a bit saner for him by her side.
XXX
The consequences of their outing were ugly and immediate.
The Don, Grace decided, was a flaming madman. Getting away from a screamingly obvious abduction was
defiance. Refusing to fold to the will of the Don to die as he willed it
needed correcting. When Grace Sakaki had tased one Rocket and punched another in her own self-defense in the riot, she'd committed a cardinal sin as had all the people on that little intersection who'd decided to fight back.
Everyone not in police custody that wasn't Grace or Giovanni had been rounded up. It took the mob three days. On the first day when the first few victims had gone missing, the cops had come to the Sakaki home. It had led to a hissed conversation in the coat closet while the uniformed man and woman lingered on their porch, trying not to look awkward while Grace and Giovanni fought.
"You can't just say "
you need a warrant" the second you open the door!"
"I can and I will."
"At least ask them what they're here for first before driving them off?"
"They are rubbernecking trying to scrounge up any reasonable cause. And for the sake of keeping our house safe, I damn well will demand a-"
"Ah. Sir, Madam? We're here involving the incident at..."
Eyes sliding shut, spine a line of tension, Grace could feel it click he went so rigid.
"I gave my statement to the chief-"
"Sir. It's not about that."
How the officer sounded diffident while shouting to be heard was rather impressive. His partner chimed in.
"Mr. Sakaki there's been nine abductions starting at six this morning... If you can open the door... Let us in. We can disclose more details."
Gio blanched. Whipping hard between fury to horrified realization. Both Sakaki's scrambled out of the closet, a quick flick conveyed fear and paranoia and to that Grace folded. She slid her arm around Giovanni's and guided them both outside.
"I'm sorry but the rest of the house is a state. We were remodeling right before this happened and I'd be embarrassed to expose you to it. The entranceway and living room are barely habitable but we don't want to risk hiring anyone to finish the work until the world is a little saner. I can get a drink if anyone needs anything?"
The offer was accepted even if the lie was met with some skepticism.
The talk boiled down to that everyone who'd been on site wasn't in trouble (yet), they were just running wellness checks (checking for bodies) because there'd been some suspicious absences. One smart soul had hidden their phone and set it to record before getting hauled off.
The recording wasn't available for non-investigators, sorry.
Grace had to subtly step on Gio's foot to forestall an attempt to bribe for that information because Arceus frolicking in a field of flowers it wasn't going to have anything relevant to
them on it. So it wasn't their business. Despite how nosy Gio was and how news-starved Grace was.
Also, bribes were illegal. That too.
They refused police protection because between Forest and Gio's 'mon they were reasonably safe. Not that they told the copper the first part... but they concentrf to be called forwellness checks. Or rather, Grace gave them her number. because the police calling Gio was not a good thing for either of them. After getting her contact information the cops left, and all was quiet.
For the Sakaki's.
Come day three of the first person going missing, the case was closed.
The mob returned them all, stacked the bodies like logs on the police station front steps. No one was spared. Not man, woman, 'mon, or child. Watching the news, sobbing into Gio's shoulder while he soothed and rocked her, Grace realized that she'd never got the young man's real name. The man with the zigzagoon who'd tackled monsters on a whim.
Now he was just another John Doe among a block of them.
"It isn't your fault." Giovanni sighed, they curled into each other, and it was a mercy that he was able to work the remote out of her numb hands and turn off the news program. "When things like this happen, you let the monsters be monsters. And you hope the people around them are smart and fast enough to get out of the way when they strike... And you grieve when they aren't."
"It shouldn't be like this."
"No," The black of his eyes looked positively fey in the dim light as he considered something. "It shouldn't.
Xxx
When the phone rang, her phone, Giovanni picked it up. Grace just shook her head and looked away. Unable to deal with talking to anyone for any reason.
Sounding weary Gio took the call. He verified who he was, then listened for what felt like ages. Ending the call after a few terse words he tossed the phone on the coffee table with a grunt.
She did not have to ask, just looked at him with red-rimmed eyes and waited.
"The
Sbrrio are going to make an announcement, Viridian is going to declare a state of emergency. Kanto's demanding all travel to and from the city excluding medical personnel and emergency staff be banned, and Viridian has a week to clean house before Lance steps in. Starting now I'm on twenty-four-hour standby, they're going to rip Viridian down to the bedrock, and when they find something I'll have to leave to help suppress it."
By mutual unspoken decision, they didn't watch the news. And after seeing lines of smoke from town from the eastern window Giovanni shut the shades and they moved their business to the west forest-facing side.
Viridian didn't need a week. It hadn't needed forty-eight hours. The powers had known who the Mob Boss was, down to a man. Some bastard skuntank namde Aldo Machetti. That revelation made Grace sick. Made her shake from outrage. If they'd pulled their heads out of their asses, just done their jobs... There'd be less dead, less broken families, less..
everything wrong.
The squad of cops came knocking at their door come midnight the next night. With them was some young blonde heartthrob with a mohawk, muscles that'd make many a woman swoon, and civilian clothes set in military colors. He stood a head taller than the men around him, not even counting his wild hair.
"Kanto's sending me the big guns are we?" Giovanni drawled at seeing the man, almost managing a smile.
"The biggest," Surge laughed, Grace recognized that laugh from tournaments on the TV. Tipping his broad shades he flashed a wink to go with his twinkling smile. "Hope civi's life hasn't made you soft, Sakaki. You ready to ship out?"
"I'll need a moment."
Shelving her rage, and her fear, Grace managed something like a bright smile for Gio as he gathered his things. His things were mainly medicines and a jacket she hadn't seen before but
had seen enough police shows to recognize as flak. He slipped it over his shirt, then hid it under a suit jacket. The last thing he pulled out, from its locked box, was a gun. That he holstered to his hip, alongside his team.
And while she worked, she decided something.
She got her things. A well-stocked medical kit, a few spare sets of clothes she'd never miss, blankets, some water, and a utility knife.
He didn't protest when she stepped out with him, though Surge did.
"Now look here pretty thing, there's no room for civilians on this thing, and I've
been with army medical, you don't have that type of steel."
Ignoring him she turned to one of the officers. "How are things at Viridian Gen?"
Grace did not miss the less-than-subtle questioning glance the cop tipped to Gio, or Gio's nod.
"Hell on earth, Madam. It's a slury. The Center got bombed, so they moved base to the Gen's west wing. Everyone mobile whose willing to risk gunfire is just dumping the wounded and the bodies of people and 'mon off in droves. There is no one distinguishing between Made Man, Copper, or Civilian."
That, more than anything, decided her.
"You gentlemen either provide me an escort or I'm walking, your choice." Then to Gio, who surely, sanely, should be protesting, said. "We'll be able to cover more ground, to help more people, if we split up."
Resignation warred with pride, and then, finally he tipped her head up and indulged one languid kiss.
"For luck." He breathed, then broke off turning to the chatty copper. "Santiago, she's with you, you get her there and stay with her. You make sure none of those Made Men get a chance to lay a hand on her..."
"Sir."
The younger man pulled a half salute and then took Grace's arm in his own, guiding her to his car. She looked back once, to find Surge walking beside Gio, both men talking quietly as they were stepping into a different car. Then she was in, and what he was doing had to fade into the back of her mind because what was important was what she could do now.
