2007-08-02: Intruder Alert


Bekah_icon.gif Elijah_icon.gif DFNamir_icon.gif


Elijah comes to deliver a few things and almost winds up shot for his trouble. Bekah is not amused.

Dark Future Date: August 2nd, 2009

Intruder Alert

Samantha and Bekah's Apartment

It's late, and most of the household is either not present or is asleep. Most. Namir technically does not live here anymore, but he's visiting for a few days while his arm heals up. All the lights are off save the one in the bathroom, in which the Israeli is currently taking a shower. Within easy reach of the shower is a standard Glock .45 — but then since he started staying here, he's set up the place as a safehouse. There are guns hidden in obscure, but easily accessible places (for those who know where they are), and the furniture in the living room has been shuffled about strategically, to allow optimal places for cover and hiding in case of intrusion. A paranoid man has been hard at work in here, yes indeed.

Having acquired a key to the apartment to drop off supplies, in case his his sister proved absent for some reason or another, Elijah knocks twice, short pauses each time, before digging out the key. Entering the much changed apartment, he calls out, "Hello?" The sounds of the shower have drawn his attention, but whether Sam or Bekah, he has no intention of finding out, instead setting the backpack slung across his shoulder on the floor as he closes the door behind him. Moving into the kitchen, he finds a water and heads back into the living room to take a seat.

Sounds of movement in the house cause Namir to tense, and he slips out of the shower, muting the sounds of his feet and the sounds of the shower curtain moving about. The gun's safety being shut off is also silent. He shuts off the light in the bathroom and waits for his eyes to adjust to the dark before he slowly pushes open the door and peers into the living room. All he sees is a darkened shape moving from the kitchen to the living room and taking a seat. He doesn't recognize Elijah, and acting on a 'shoot first, ask questions later' mentality, he takes careful aim and fires one shot, aimed for a shoulder. He's purposefully non-lethal; if it hits, he wants to be able to question the culprit before trying anything a little more deadly.

Elijah glances up as the sound of the shower stops, "Bek? Sam? It's me, don't come out naked!" His comment is wry as he turns to face toward the back of the apartment, the long pause as Namir lets his eyes adjust to the dark prompting him to call out again, "Bek? Sam? You there?" As the unfeminine form of Sam's estranged husband slips into view, the young man tenses, the flash of the muzzle matching a shout as the bullet stops halfway to its target, "God damnit, Namir, you crazy fucking bastard!"

The knocking wasn't enough to wake Bekah out of kind of deep sleep she's been doing lately, but Elijah's voice apparently is. Bekah makes her way blearily to the door of her room. "What the hell is going on out here. Can't a girl sleep without people acting like they've lost their minds?" She says before she blinks at Namir. "Wow. That's more of you than I ever wanted to see. Find a robe or something."

Crazy, maybe, but more importantly, Namir is alive, and he likes to keep it that way. And in this day and age, he just doesn't think he can be too careful. Even if it means shooting at Bekah's brother. Unruffled by the shouting, swearing, and the fact that he's standing there stark naked and wet in the doorway of the bathroom, the Israeli calmly sets the safety again and grunts, "Relax. I wasn't trying to kill you. If I had been, you would be dead." Oh, uh, hello, Bekah. As soon as the doctor's presence is made, he quickly drops a hand down to make himself at least a little modest. Still otherwise unaffected, he waves the gun towards Elijah and blandly announces, "Your brother is here." Then, he closes the door to the bathroom again.

Elijah looks up as Bekah comes out of the back, a finger pointing at the bullet that still hangs in the air before an accusing look is turned on Namir, "The crazy bastard tried to shoot me!" At Namir's rather unapologetic response, green eyes narrow and there are more than a few vindictive thoughts that cross through his mind. Still on an adrenaline high from nearly being shot, he sighs at Bekah, "How long is that ass going to be here? I don't want to get shot at everytime I bring you things." His words are accompanied by an absent-minded gesture toward the backpack sitting against the wall.

Bekah eyes the now closed bathroom door. "Hopefully not a whole hell of a lot longer. Not if he's going to be shooting at you." Because shooting at her brother does not make for a happy Bekah. Especially when it gets her out of her bed. And then she moves towards the backpack. "Were you able to get antibiotics?"

It's not long before Namir is emerging from the bathroom again, this time dressed in boxers and a tanktop. It's not the most clothing ever, but then he had planned to go straight to bed after showering, so he didn't exactly bring an entire wardrobe into the bathroom with him. There's a towel draped over his neck, and he still carries the Glock, though the safety remains on. "Maybe if you had a code in place, I wouldn't have to shoot at you every time you bring something," he states. Yes, he heard that. See, being able to make things a little louder in spots has its advantages.

Sighing, the green-eyed younger sibling of Bekah grunts as the bullet drops to the floor, moving back to a seat and taking a sip of the water he grabbed earlier. "Yeah, I got antibiotics and basically two emergency medical kits before I had to run." Turning a glare on Namir he says, "I had a key! I called out twice! You're lucky I don't drop you out a damned window."

Bekah is dressed remarkably similarly to Namir at the moment, in the boxers and tanktop she uses for pajamas. "Or you could, I don't know, ask before you shoot. What if I'd gotten up and was the one sitting in the chair?" Bekah says with a shake of her head, moving to walk from the bag passed Namir. As she moves passed him, she reaches out for his arm, holding it briefly, if she can. A few seconds is all it takes to heal over that wound.

Unfortunately, Namir isn't open for a quick-heal. Bekah needs to save that for other things — emergency things, such as those found at the labs. She's barely gotten hold of his arm for more than half a second before he's yanked it out of her grasp. "Don't," he utters in a low warning. "Save it." At least it's a little more healed than it was before, though. Glancing to Elijah on his way to the kitchen, Namir adds, "Which is, for all I know, the same thing that an imposter would have done had you been caught on your little supplies run and your identity assumed by someone else. They have people just like us working for them, you know. Nothing is safe. Why do you think we have codes at the labs?" And he disappears into the kitchen.

"Yeah, Bek, don't waste the healing on him, he'd just get shot again to extend his stay and that'd be a waste of your gift." Elijah takes a drink from his water as his eyes track Namir, being shot at has become more the norm than not, lately, but in what he hopes is a safe place draws a noticeably less congenial response. "And how do you know they wouldn't be able to strip a mind of its secrets, invalidating your codes? How do you know they haven't planted some triggered memory in your own mind to set you off at a key event or phrase?"

That bit of time touching wasn't enough to heal Namir fully, but it did speed it up a bit. Those stitches should be able to come out a day or so earlier with that quick bit. "If you're going to keep shooting at my brother, then I want you healed and out of here." Bekah says, with a not so nice tone. "If you want to test his ability, throw something at him that won't leave a hole that I have to get out of bed to heal." Because the dark circles, those are permanent at the moment. She moves back to the backpack to check Elijah's haul. "Good. There are several kinds of antibiotics. Those really are what we need the most. And things like thread for sutures. Painkillers are good, but people survive without them."

"Which is precisely why our codes constantly change," replies Namir quite calmly and matter-of-factly from the kitchen. "Trust me, it's effective." He's shot plenty of moles because they failed to know the code. Returning to the kitchen doorway bearing a bottle of water, he continues on: "As for my mind, you never know. There are some out there who can wipe memories from your mind, making it impossible for you to remember whether or not you've been captured. I very well could have been altered at one time and have no recollection of it." Now maybe he's just being a jerk. He glances to Bekah and adds, "If he is not your brother and I just throw something at him, it leaves plenty of room open for me to get shot. Thank you, but I've been shot plenty already."

There is nothing but concern in Elijah's eyes as he tracks Bekah's movements, his voice much kinder for his sister, "Bek, make sure you're getting your rest, I hate seeing you run ragged like this." Leaning back in his seat, gaze momentarily hidden as he closes his eyes, he mumbles, "…not enough." His head coming back up, he looks to Namir, but says nothing else.

Bekah looks to Namir with a look that is entirely not-friendly. "And if you shoot my brother, I am going to be so incredibly pissed off at you. I'm sure I can still find a very strong laxative somewhere." She threatens before she looks over to Elijah. "I sleep as much as I can." Not enough though, when she uses her power more than she should. "In fact, I'm going back to it now. If it's too late to make it home tonight, Eli, you can crash here today." She offers, covering a yawn with one hand as she moves back towards her bedroom.

Namir makes a sarcastic face at Elijah's little comment, but he again remains unfazed. Even if they think he's a crazy bastard and a jerk and a horrible, awful person, the fact remains that he's keeping them alive as well. If he's going to be staying here for a few days, the least he can do is be prepared in case his presence brings in the dogs. After Bekah's gone to bed, he takes a gulp from his water and starts for the bedroom he's sharing with Sam (because the couch really did only last for about five minutes). As he passes by Eli, he tosses the Glock toward the other man. "Here. Sleep with it under your pillow."

Elijah catches the weapon as it is tossed to him and only shakes his head, "I don't need it, Namir, it's much easier to get things done when people think you're unarmed." He sets the gun down beside him, though, holding more faith in his abilities than with his aim. "I know in your twisted head somewhere you think your paranoia is justified, but if you shoot at me again, there will be more than laxatives to worry about." How things change in just two years, from video games to threats and a future less than certain for either of them.

"It's not so easy to get things done when you're dead," counters Namir, pausing in the doorway to the bedroom. "For you, my paranoia isn't justified, but then you haven't been through what I have in the past year. It's what keeps me alive, and it's what keeps Sam and your sister alive." He shakes his head with a smirk. Doesn't look like the threat's doing much to him. "If you want to work out a code system to keep yourself from getting shot at, I will be here all week. Meanwhile, I'm going to bed." And with that, he turns to do so.

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