Her Knight


cassidy2_icon.gif coren2_icon.gif

Scene Title Her Knight
Synopsis Coren brings Cassidy home from Bellevue.
Date September 18, 2009

Casa de Shelby — Lower East Side

Even though Coren's car was found, he simply had to get a new one. There was simply no bloody way in Hell he would ride around in a vehicle that had that sick twisted fuck behind the wheel, least of all, a vehicle he may have utilized in the abduction of Cassidy. And that is why he now drives Cassidy home in a silver Chev Malibu that's only a decade old instead of two and a half. No black paint or rust, either. And despite some protests, he carries her in, up the stairs, and into the apartment. Their apartment.

Only once inside does it dawn on him that he's shown the place very little attention since her abduction. The coffee table is still splintered and lying in a few pieces scattered on the floor. At least he flipped the couch back over so it sits right, but there are scuff marks on the floor. "Excuse the mess. Mortimer and I redecorated a little. I figure we'll replace the furniture with some of what you've got in storage."

Of course, Cassidy protested… there is a reason they gave her crutches! So that she can get around on her own. She can't have him carrying her around everywhere, though the idea amuses her some. However, she knows better to keep debating, but the crutches came with. A part of her is just happy to be finally out of the hospital, to sleep in her own bed.

But all her thoughts kinda of fall away as Cassidy sees the condition of the apartment. "Holy… You two had it out?" She asks as she gives him a pat on the back, wanting down. Crutches held out for them in her other hand, ready to be set down. She eyes the broken coffee table and frowns a bit. "You don't think…. he'll come back here?" The young woman actually sounds worried about that idea.

Coren actually takes the crutches in one hand as he sets Cassidy down on his favourite chair and lays them down on the floor. "If he does, he's going out the fire escape, whether voluntarily or not is strictly up to have fast he can move," he remarks as he collects two parts of the table leg that broke and is the reason for the now three-legged table. He tosses them in the garbage can. "Probably drag you down to storage…. Probably can't fit a couch in my car, though. Should've bought a truck. I suppose I could probably trade it in. Have to do that on Monday so I can get it registered and insured, so we may have to stick with the end tables." Because it's pretty much closing time as far as insurance companies are considered. Coren gives the couch a bit of a tap on one of its legs and — sure enough — it falls off that leg and tips itself down awkwardly at one corner. "Couch is broken, too."

There is a soft resigned sigh as Cassidy is placed on the chair. Her bad foot set out before her, even though she can't feel the heel resting there. She's dressed like she's ready for be too, in a pair of grey sweat pants and a slightly over sized t-shirt, loose clothes for the wounds. She rests an elbow on one arm of the chair and rests her temple on her fist. "Probably, won't let me help you clean up will you?" Her tone is amused, since she already knows the answer. She sighs softly and scoots forward on the chair so that she can pick up the broken leg of the couch, "You really did a number… I'm… surprised you didn't drag him down, yet you let him go." She glances up from her inspection of the splintered leg, and studies him. "There is also bedding in there. A quilt my grandmother made me we can use for the bed. I imagine there is another old comforter in one of the boxes."

"No, it won't take me too long to clean up. I'll do it while you're asleep." And Coren actually smacks his forehead at the comment about quilts. "I'd nearly forgotten. That fucker took ours." Then he takes the broken couch-leg from Cassidy with a stern look on his face. "Rest and recuperation doesn't include housework, luv," he says as he takes a seat on the armrest of the chair, wrapping his left arm around Cassidy. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

"Yeah… I know he did." Cassidy says her smile falling some, memories coming before she can stop them. Holding the quilts like a life line. She manages something of a grin as he takes the leg from her and when he sits, she leans against his side, "I could sit on the floor and pick up the little pieces." She offers with only a portion of the humor she had before. Head tilting back just enough so that she can look up at him, she smiles softly. "And I'm sure you'll think of something to do with me, though." She pats his leg gently, as if in pity for what he must endure. "You got time to figure that out. You're good at figuring out what to do for me." She eyes the broken furniture and shakes her head, "You're a good man that way. You know… I'm glad I didn't decide to sell the less important things. Might need it all as back up in case you decide to beat the crap out of anyone else."

There's that sad look in Coren's eyes as the memories come to his mind too, and he wraps both arms around Cassidy. When he releases her, he kisses her gently on the forehead, then resumes his earlier position on the side of the chair. "I think I can clean up on my own. You can supervise. Tell me if I miss anything," he says with a wink. "And if anyone does come by, like Mister Jack, I'll try to go easy on the further that isn't already broken."

"I guess I can do that.. boss you around instead." Cassidy teases, before shifting in the chair to rest her head on his knee. "I think I'll got stir crazy sitting around like this, but I'm starting to think it's a side effect of being tied to you." But then something he says finally sinks in and her head comes up again, "Mister Jack?" She gives him a confused look. "You're calling Mortimer…. Mister Jack?" Someone is a bit behind on the times, but then she's been rather busy. Not to mention the last time she saw him was in New Orleans. She knew he was back to his old self… but not much behind that.

Coren gives a bit of a shrug. He's British. Formality is his middle name. "His last name is Jack. Man's a few apples short of a basket, too. He really should be locked up, but if he had any way of finding or helping you, well, I couldn't arrest him." Enough they he wishes he had. Of course, he wouldn't have sent the hyper sniper. "Speaking of which, we need to talk Liz into letting her contact know that we appreciate what was done. Maybe impress that we'd like to thank the contact in person if he or she is up to it."

"I knew that.. It's just weird to hear it." Cassidy shakes her head, before resting it on his knee again. During her time in the hospital she had asked how they found her, so she nods slowly. "I think that would be a good idea." She goes quiet for a moment, before a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, "You really went on the outside on this one…" Though she knows if he hadn't…. chances are…. She clamps down on that thought quickly, giving herself a shake. "Sorry," she murmurs knowing that the thought probably passed between them. Too bad the department won't see the importance of what he did, if he went too far outside the box.

Those thoughts land Cassidy smack dab on Coren's lap as he lifts her up and slides into his chair. He doesn't want an apology. "I know you're going to be thinking a lot about things that you don't want to, so don't apologize for it. It's going to happen whether you door not," he says, laying Cassidy's head against his chest and stroking her head. "Just remember that we're in this together." And he doesn't much care what the department thinks about his going outside the box.

Legs hooked over one of the chair arms, Cassidy sighs, letting her head rests against his chest, "I know, Coren. But I'd rather not if I can help it." She lifts her bad foot so that she can see it over her legs. She watches it as she tries to wiggle her toes and feels only the tingle of the nerves — the toes don't do more than twitch imperceptibly. Again memories flash unbidden, especially the flash of bloody glass and the memory of the sound of the flesh hissing and the smell as the wound was burned. Blinking as her vision blurs with unshed tears, she whispers softly, "I think the only reason I'm going to be able to do this is cause of you. When I was beaten… I had my mom, but even then…." There were questions if she'd be able to return to work.

Cassidy. Coren gently closes Cassidy's eyes with a hand and brushes away the tears that escape. Then he kisses her on the nose. "You're going to get through this, and damned straight I'm going to help you through it. But I don't want any defeatism from you, and you have to trust me." He shifts Cassidy up slightly so she's sitting on his left thigh, her feet dangling over the chair with his own. One arm is wrapped tightly around her while the other softly brushes through her hair. "You can't help it, luv, you're going to see it, remember it, dream of it. Just remember that's all it is now, a memory, something in the past. And it's not your fault. It's not my fault," he says, and the verbalization of the last part brings tears to his own eyes, because he blamed himself so badly for all of it. Especially as he witnesses what was done to her through her memories. How could he not feel somehow responsible? He never caught the bastard.

Eyes stay closed for a time, as Cassidy just savors the closeness and his comforting touch. Though, when she hears the tears in his own voice her eyes slowly open so that she can look at him. A gentle hand lifts to rest on his cheek, the tips of her fingers brushing at the graying hair at his temple. "Not your fault at all," she says softly. Never had the thought crossed her mind, even if he never caught him. "I'm still amazed he was taken down at all." He seemed unstoppable. She rests her forehead against his, eyes closing. If I can't blame myself, you are not allowed to blame yourself. No in her mind he's her hero. Her knight. His armor may be tarnished, but he's still hers.

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