by HDA Roberts
"Mathew?!" he shouted, coming around the corner, "My God..."
But that wasn't for the people bleeding on the ground, it was for what he'd seen on my face, which was still agony. In an instant, he knew exactly what had happened. He came to my side and held my arm, easing me to the alley wall as he pulled out his phone and started making calls.
I turned away from the carnage, the severed limbs and the scraps of flesh, the pools of blood and the torn heaps of meat that had once been four human beings.
"It's alright, Mathew, it's all going to be alright," Kraab said, his voice firm and calming.
Portals opened, and S.C.A. Agents poured out into the alley, along with one of their support teams, who went to the assailants.
"Forget that scum, Graves first!" Kraab snapped.
One of the medics turned to object, but then she saw my face, and her own went white with rage as she put everything together. Say what you like about Magicians and their occasional prejudices, but when Pureborn start forming mobs, we stick together. That and nobody likes people who mutilate kids, Shadowborn or not.
"With pleasure, Sir," she said, coming to kneel next to me while Kraab accepted a set of latex gloves from one of the techs and started picking up the dagger and Spelleaters for evidence.
"Where the hell did they get two of these?" I heard Kraab mutter.
"Mister Graves?" said the medic, I turned my head and nodded.
"Is it alright if I call you Mathew?" she said, her voice soft and compassionate.
I nodded I think I may have been in shock, my brain felt fuzzy.
"I'm going to put on a dressing and do a few tests, is that alright?" she asked soothingly, as if talking to a skittish puppy. I didn't mind, it was calming me down.
I nodded and she took a white pad from her bag and pressed it gently to the right side of my face. It hurt and I tried not to wince.
"I know, I know," she said, her hands gentle as she taped it in place. She moved her hands over me and I felt the tingle of flesh magic as she fixed the wound on the back of my head, which helped with my pounding headache.
"I'm just going to see about these others, wait here, okay?"
I nodded, "Thank you," I said genuinely.
"That's alright," she said with a reassuring smile, but I saw a tear in her eye as she turned away. That couldn't be good.
Kraab barked orders and then knelt down next to me.
"What happened?" he asked.
I told him, slowly starting to come down from my panicked state. My voice was a bit of a croak, and sounded a little shaky from shock, but I got my side of the story across. All the while my eyes were darting to the people I'd torn into.
I felt... conflicted. Those people had held me down and sliced into my face, and here I was actually feeling bad for them. Well, not so much for them (now that the shock was wearing off, I found that I was starting to feel rather angry and more than a little violated by those... creatures), but I found that I couldn't stop thinking about their parents, and what they'd think when they saw their kids like that. It made me feel guilty.
But, above all, I felt bad about the fact that I was looking at these piles of mangled flesh that I'd made, and that I felt... fine about it. I mean, I felt a little bad for them, but I wasn't going to be losing sleep over it, and that worried me. Later (much later), it occurred to me I had the power and the skill to fix them, and I mean completely. I knew spells that could re-grow limbs; that could fix anything short of death, in fact. I could have made them whole with some effort, but it never even occurred to me to do that.
Was I becoming spiteful? Was I letting their actions justify my own? And if I was, is that what had happened with Des? Jocelyn's confession came stabbing back into my mind and made me ask these rather dark questions of myself.
Thankfully Kraab dragged me out of my spiral before I could get too deep into it.
"Easy, Mathew," Kraab said, squeezing my shoulder, "It was self defence, and the medics say that they'll live, thanks to you."
"Far more than they deserve, the bastards," said an older agent, grizzled and looking furious.
"We're going to take you to the hospital, now, alright?" Kraab said, "Those wounds... we can't fix them with magic, they need stitches."
"How bad is it?" I asked.
"Not too bad," he said, a little too lightly.
I managed a small smile that made my face ache, "Thanks for trying, but you are just a terrible liar."
He snorted and helped me up. I staggered a little, and he put an arm under my shoulder to keep me upright while he conjured a portal.
"Would you like me to call your parents for you?"
"That's alright. If they hear 'hospital' from anyone else, they'll assume the worst. Better if I smooth the road a little."
"Better you than me," he agreed as we walked through his portal and emerged next to the Emergency Room entrance of the James Sutcliffe Memorial Hospital.
It was quiet for a Sunday, but even after a nurse took a look and went deathly pale, I still had to wait a while (the National Health Service was great and all, but I've never had a short wait), but that gave me the chance to call home.
Father picked up.
"Hello?" he said groggily. They were morning people and tended to be in bed before ten.
"Father, it's Mathew," I said as gently as I could.
"Matty? Are you alright?"
"I've had a small accident, and I thought you'd want to know. They're treating me at the hospital now."
"Accident?" he said, his voice suddenly very alert.
"Did you say accident?" I heard my mother's voice say.
From there it was a complicated three-way conversation that eventually ended with them telling me that they were on their way despite my protestations that I was fine.
Kraab was sitting next to me, listening to all this. I think he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words, so he went back to leafing through a magazine, a small smirk on his face.
"You don't have to stay. My very protective mother will be here in an hour or so, and God help us all when she sees this," I said, waving over my face.
"I'm not leaving you alone," he said with a very final tone, "not after what happened tonight."
"Thank you," I said in a small voice. I didn't actually want to be alone, I was still very scared. I felt awful and my face was a burning wound that pulsed with pain every time my heart beat. I'd tried a numbing spell, but something in the wound resisted any attempts I made to heal it or stop it hurting, it was very frustrating.
"Least I can do, Matty."
God, what was I going to tell Cathy? She'd flip her lid.
Goodness only knew what Hopkins would-
Hopkins... I'd almost forgotten about that little problem over the last hour's wait.
Thankfully I was able to put off any further thinking, as my name was called and I was taken to a treatment room. Kraab was hot on my heels like he was afraid someone was going to leap out of a cubicle with another Life Magic empowered knife.
A kindly looking young doctor in a red bow-tie and a white lab coat came in, and snapped on some latex gloves.
"Facial lacerations?" he said, looking me over.
"That's me."
He slowly pulled the dressing away and sucked in a breath.
"That's not reassuring, Doctor," I said.
"Apologies," he said, getting out a needle, "this is a local anaesthetic, it'll help with the pain."
I gulped, "Alright."
I didn't like needles.
He stuck me and got to work. I got over fifty stitches put in, after which he applied some antiseptic and then a light dressing, which covered the whole wound.
"Can I see it first?" I asked, before he taped the dressing into place. I didn't really want to, but I felt that I needed to.
"Not just yet. Rest first, let the wounds settle and you can see it when we change the dressing."
He gave me a tetanus booster, which hurt, and a fe
w other injections to prevent infection. Kraab followed as they wheeled me into a recovery ward where there were three other people, all of whom looked worse off than me.
"They didn't need to wheel me, my feet are just fine," I said.
Kraab chuckled and sat down in the chair next to my bed while we waited for Hurricane Miriam to touch down. I had actually managed to drift off a little before she arrived; I was that dog-tired and desperate to escape what had happened.
"Oh, God, Matty," I heard her say, and woke up to see my parents staring down at me, looks of concern on their faces. I smiled.
"Hi," I said, accepting a crushing hug from each of them.
"What happened?" Mother asked, seeing Kraab for the first time.
"Mathew was... attacked," he said cautiously.
"Attacked?" Mother asked, going pale, Father too.
"We've got them in custody," Kraab said quickly.
What's left of them, anyway, I thought.
"And I can assure you that they'll never hurt anyone else again," he finished.
"Why?" Father asked, "Why did they attack our boy?"
"They're fanatics and they hate Shadowborn. They targeted your son because of his powers," he answered.
"Why is he still hurt?" Mother asked, turning to look at me, "Don't you know Magic that can fix this?"
I looked away, fear lancing into my chest as I really contemplated the situation.
"The weapon they used..." Kraab began, pausing while he tried to select words that wouldn't drive my mother up the wall, "The wounds can't be closed by magic; they need to heal the old fashioned way."
"What kind of wounds?" Mother asked.
"They cut the symbol of their group into his cheek. The cuts were quite deep, they needed stitches," Kraab answered, "but modern medicine is pretty good, it shouldn't be too much of a problem to have the scars removed."
"Scars?!" my mother almost shouted.
"Mother, recovery room!" I whispered.
"Sorry," she said, patting my arm.
"I'll give you some time together," Kraab said, "I'll be back tomorrow."
"I hope to be gone by then," I said with a smile.
He snorted and patted my shoulder before walking out. My parents sat down next to me, one either side and I told them what had happened, and what I'd done.
"Good," was my Father's unexpected reply.
"Daniel!" Mother said.
"What? They hurt my boy. I'm glad they're in pieces!"
Mother held my hand, and there was something predatory in her eyes, "Me, too," she said quietly.
They stayed with me for a while. Father left to secure a hotel room while Mother spent the night in the chair next to me, even though I begged her to go get some sleep. Morning came and Father returned with a paper bag full of McDonalds' breakfasts, and I stuffed down a bagel and a muffin without it touching the sides.
"You'll make yourself sick," Father warned.
"Never have before," I said through a mouthful of hash brown.
Father laughed and tucked into his breakfast wrap while my mother picked idly at a carton of scrambled eggs, still looking pensive and worried.
Eventually the bow-tied doctor came in and gently pulled the dressing away. She tried to hide it, but Mother winced, and Father went pale again.
"Can I see?" I asked softly, before I remembered that I knew Magic, "Why am I asking?"
"Matty, wait!" Mother said.
I called a little magic and a circle of refractive light appeared in front of me (essentially a magic mirror).
The mess was more extensive than I'd thought. It was a raggedly drawn pentagram, stretching from my right ear to my nose and from just below my eye to my chin. The lines were shaky and ugly, the wounds puckered and red. The stitches stood out as nasty black hairs throughout the design.
"Oh I shouldn't have looked," I said, dispelling the mirror.
It was horrible, disfiguring. I looked terrible, and I wasn't Brad Pitt to begin with, what with the red eyes and pale skin.
"It's not that bad," Mother said, patting my hand, "and we'll get it sorted, I promise."
"It'll be alright," I said as cheerfully as I could, "Really. I'm fine."
I wasn't fine, the sight of my face had made me feel sick.
I pulled out my phone and found that it was dead, so I stole a little electrical energy from the room and slowly fed it into the battery; a very useful little spell I'd learned a while back (took some practice, too; I fried five ancient phones and a car battery before I got it right).
"Uh oh," I said as the doctor prodded gently at the wound, checking the stitches.
"What?" Mother asked.
I turned the phone so she could see.
"Yes, 'Uh oh' is about right," she agreed.
Seventeen texts and ten voice messages from Cathy. Mother and Father knew about us and were very supportive. Father had told me it was about time; Mother was planning the wedding... about what I'd expect.
"Alright, you can go home, Mathew," the doctor said.
"Thank you, Doctor," I replied, glad that I wasn't going to be kept in any longer. Hospitals made me nervous after that Agrammel thing.
He gave me some instructions about taking care of the wounds, essentially keep it clean, covered and dry, but I could shower in a couple of days.
I levered myself out of the bed and followed my parents down a winding route towards the car park.
"Want to come home for a while?" Mother asked.
"Yes, but I know I shouldn't. Better to get back on the horse."
"Good man," Father said, "But I'd still be happier if we had you home."
"Me too. But this is my A-Level year. Can't miss out."
And also they'd need something a damn sight stronger than a wild horse to drag me away from Cathy.
"How did you become the responsible one?" Mother said, "That's my job!"
I chuckled, which hurt, but it was worth it, "Must have picked it up by osmosis," I said.
We all got in the family car, and I leaned my head against the window.
"Call your girlfriend," Father said, "You've got to keep your woman sweet."
"And just when do you think you'll start doing that?" Mother asked.
"Walked right into that one," Father said with a smile before picking my mother's hand up and running his lips over the knuckles. Mother grinned and relaxed as Father drove us away.
I dialled. She picked up immediately.
"Matty, where are you?! I've been doing my nut all night! If you aren't dead, I'm going to kill you!" Cathy said. It was just before first period, which I'd be missing.
"Little hellcat, isn't she?" Father said with a grin as Cathy yelled down the phone, "We Graves men do rather have a type."
Mother batted his arm and blushed.
"Who was that?" Cathy barked, "And where are you?"
I gave her a watered down version of events, and she went silent, which wasn't a good sign.
"Are you okay?" she asked in a tiny voice. I could hear her holding back tears.
"I'm fine," I said, "really, Cath, I was never in real danger."
A slight lie, but she needed to hear it.
"Come back soon, I love you," she said.
"Love you too," I replied, which made my mother jump and just hold back an excited sound. I hung up.
"Not a word," I warned as Mother turned.
"Wasn't going to say a thing," she said, a wide grin on her face.
We got back to school, and Cathy was waiting for me by Kimmel House along with Bill, both of whom could get into trouble for skipping class. Cathy took one look at me and burst into tears before throwing herself into my arms.
I stroked her back and made soothing sounds while she got it out of her system.
"Shh, Cath," I said, "it's okay."
"No it isn't!" she said with a sob, "you were out getting hurt, and I was yelling at you. And the last thing I'd have said to you would have been that!"
She broke down a
gain, her tears soaking my borrowed clothes, for which I was definitely not getting my deposit back, not with all the blood on it, and now tears, and knowing Cathy, very soon snot. I held her tightly to me, and my mother came around to pat her on the back.
"Sorry, Mrs Graves," Cathy said.
"Don't be silly, dear," Mother said, pulling a length of hair away from Cathy's face before it could get cried on, "nothing to be sorry about. And how are you, Bill?"
"Fine, thanks, Mrs G," he said brightly.
Bill exchanged greetings with my father while Cathy cried herself out, and I could finally offer her a hanky to blow her nose on.
"Better?" I asked.
She nodded and wrapped herself around me again. I kissed the top of her head and she seemed to relax.
"You sure you don't want to come home, Matty?" Father asked, and Cathy's grip suddenly doubled in strength.
"Maybe next injury."
"Not funny," Mother said as Cathy squeaked.
"Sorry."
I managed to pry Cathy off me long enough to hug my parents goodbye, but no sooner had they gone than she was back, and we all sat down on a bench outside Kimmel. It was second period by this point, which we had free anyway. They had questions, which I answered, and Cathy grabbed on harder. They didn't seem to have a problem with me mutilating four people, either. Nobody really appeared to mind that except me.
Eventually I went to change my clothes, and Cathy came along while Bill went to get his things for third period. I cast a few spells to get the muck out of the suit, and they worked surprisingly well, which was a relief. That deposit had been immense.
Cathy sat and watched me as I washed in the sink.
"Can I see it?" she asked softly.
"Sure," I said, carefully pulling the dressing away.
She took a look and smiled at me, "Still the most handsome man I know," she said, leaning up to plant the littlest kiss among the mess, which made me smile. I held her tightly, the tension draining from me.
I dressed in my uniform, feeling better in the familiar. I was gathering my books when there was a loud, very urgent knock on the door, and it burst open. Hopkins darted in, looking fit to faint as she saw my face.