2007-05-21: 'Lena Get Your Gun

Starring:

Elena_icon.gif Jack_icon.gif

Summary: Jack calls Elena to a particular address, and turns out it's a shooting range. Cue screams of horror as Elena is taught to handle a gun…and accidentally shoots Jack for his trouble. When they return to the Den to patch Jack up, Elena hears a bit about the ex-grifter's well-kept past, as well as his misgivings of her continued association with Elle.

Date It Happened: May 21, 2007

'Lena Get Your Gun


Chimo's Guns and Supply + Den of Iniquity, Brooklyn, New York

Chimo's Guns and Supply. This store carries products far wider and varied than its name would imply. One entire section is dedicated to racks of fishing rods, reels, line, and lures. Several cases of knives in a dizzying array of shapes and configurations line one wall. The center of the rectangular store is occupied by miscellaneous gear. Boots, long underwear, crates of ammunition, and freeze-dried rations are packed none-too-neatly onto shelves and circular displays.

Along one long rear wall is Chimo's crowning achievement. The guns. A tremendous glass case is filled with lines of pistols and revolvers, each tagged with a price and brief description of make and model. Behind the counter, dozens of rifles and shotguns are displayed from smallest to largest. Beneath them, smaller boxes of ammo of every conceivable (and legal) sort is available. A door to one side of the counter opens to a stairway, which leads down to a six lane firing range. Recently added, it sports refurbished track-targets from an old police precint.

Currently, all of the lanes are empty except for one. Jack is leaning against one of the booth's walls, tugging absently at the hem of his red t-shirt. Appropriately, it's the one that reads 'INSURED BY SMITH & WESSON.' Arrayed on the table in front of him are a set of matching pistols, two clips, plus goggles and ear protection for two.

Oh god. What is she doing here? Is she actually going to do this? Elena stands by Jack as she watches him gear up for a day of shooting….and guess what? She's going to be taught. "Uh. Jack, are you sure about this?" she asks somewhat timidly. "I mean…I've never….you know. Actually held a Weapon of Potentially Quick and Possibly Painful Death (tm) before." Much like Jack, she's dressed in dark blue jeans, sneakers on her feet, and one of her baby t-shirts. The shirt in front says 'Al Gore Didn't Invent The Internet, But He Did Make Up Global Warming'.

She pulls up her long, dark hair in a ponytail in preparation for MASS CARNAGE. And by MASS CARNAGE, she means….well. She'll probably hit anything BUT the target today. Oh god. She's going to suck. And how is she going to keep her hands from shaking when she holds a gun? This was nuts. Why did she agree to this?

Oh right. Because it's Jack. She hardly ever says no to Jack.

Jack looks anything but sure about this. But with the check already signed for the range rental, the proverbial caterer has already been paid. He takes in a deep breath, holds it for a count of three, then slowly lets it out before replying. "Yes, I'm certain." Anything too keep from having to teach her how to drive, right?" "I want to talk with your father before I actually /give/ you a gun, but I don't think he'd mind you learning the theory. You ready?"

"…..wait, you actually -want- to give me a gun?" Elena says, staring at Jack. "Are you serious?" With Gene and his trackers, she's starting to sense a disturbing trend. The trend that says: 'If You Can't Keep 'Lena Out of Trouble Make Sure She Can Get Out Of It'. She wonders if the men in her life secretly had some sort of meeting at the back of the Den to conspire about this. "Um. Okay. I guess….well, yeah." She cracks her knuckles, and steps towards the booth. Picking up the protective goggles, she pulls it on, and looks at him.

"……….this doesn't feel right," she tells her Nuncle.

But this is because she's wearing the damned thing upside down. The dent on the plastic to make room for the nosebridge is on her forehead.

Yes, Jack. You got your work cut out for you.

One of Jack's eyes twitches noticeably, but he manages to suppress his laughter as he plucks the glasses off of Elena's face, inverts them, and gently slides them back on. "Uh. Right." Just leave it at that, Irishman. Leave it be.

"So," he continues, reaching out to pick up one of the unloaded pistols. "This is a Beretta M92 semi-automatic. It carries fifteen rounds in the clip." Picking up the clip, he inserts it into the weapon and drives it home with a solid, metallic click. "That's how you load it. Think you can do that?" With he free hand, he points his pistol's twin on the table.

She watches closely, her face scrunching up a bit in concentration. While Elena is rather inexperienced in the way of the gun, she was a quick learner. Loading it is easy enough. So she manages to slide the magazine in and palms it upwards, hearing the click. She would pick it up and show it to him like a proud baby girl to her daddy, but….well. The gun was LOADED now, so she actually rests the pistol back onto the surface and leaves it alone. "….there. Did I do it right?" she asks, looking up at Jack. Well, that was easy. Right? "So what do I do afterwards? Just shoot?" she asks.

"Not yet," Jack rumbles. "Now there are bullets in the gun, but you need one in the chamber if you want to shoot. You've got to do like this," he grabs the slide and draws it back, then releases it to drive a round home. "Have to do that each time you put a clip in. Once you do, you're go for launch."

Rather that let his pint-sized pupil just start a-cappin', Jack explains more of the basics to her. Location and operation of the safety, to check a weapon's state of readiness after picking it up, and to /never/ point one at Uncle Jack. But you're not reading this for a lengthy lecture about gun safety. You want to see the flagrant display of poor judgement that is Jack putting a loaded firearm in Elena's hands.

"Ok," he murmurs, handing it to her. "Remember, feet shoulder width apart. Stay relaxed, and try not flinch. Squeeze the trigger, don't pull. And don't fucking shoot me."

GAME: Elena has rolled FIREARMS and got a result of TERRIBLE.
"Uh. Okay." Elena picks up the gun, and struggles a little bit with the slide. Why? Because she's a wuss. But finally she's able to hear the click, and the bullet is loaded into the chamber. She patiently weathers the lengthy lecture on gun shooting, though she can't help but notice that 'Don't Shoot Uncle Jack' has been repeated every three sentences. "I get it, Jack!" Elena says with a laugh. "Don't point the gun at you, got it."

Of course after teaching her the basics of handling and shooting a gun, he reminds her, once again, not to shoot him.

She takes a deep breath. Stay relaxed. Squeeze the trigger. She lifts up the gun, and squeezes the trigger. But….she forgets to lock her arm, so once the shot fires, her arm jerks upwards, and accidentally shoots -another- bullet in the air. The bullet pings harmlessly and AWAY from the target, and the extra bullet hits something, alright…it hits the LAMP lighting their area of the shooting range, plunging both of them into dimness.

"…..ooops," she says weakly.

"Shit!" Jack hop-skips back a step with a hand pressed against his belly. "Ok. S'cool. That could happen to anybody, Scrappy." He lets out a low chuckle, gives her a pat on the back, and swivels his head about as his eyes grow adjusted to the dimmer lighting. It isn't pitch black, but it's hardly ideal either. "Actually, this is good. Firefights in the city aren't like in John Wayne movies. No big, stupid white people standing across from each other and trading bullets like punches in broad daylight. Try again when your eyes get used to the light."

She takes a deep breath, and Elena gives him big wibbly 'oh my god I'm so not cut out for this' eyes. "Are you sure?" she says weakly. Her grip on the gun is shaking a little bit. She's so not used to this. But she isn't a quitter, and so she lifts the gun again and actually tries to aim. She squints at the target, which really isn't -all that far-, and squeezes the trigger. The shot goes better, this time….it at LEAST hits the target by clipping it to the side. Still, a little far away from the circle right in the middle of the paper. She blinks, and turns around to look at him, the gun swiveling around with her. "Is that bet— ?"

The gun discharges, the bullet clipping Jack's thigh. "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" Elena cries, and promptly freaks out, dropping the gun….which discharges ANOTHER bullet upwards, and it ricochets across the room, bounces off the wall, and punches into….someone else's target. "HEY!" yells the disgruntled voice somewhere in the room.

"Ahhh…" Jack has been through a lot of things. Seen a lot of scrapes. He's bet hit, stabbed, burned, kicked, bonked, torqued and pretty much everything else in the book, but he'd never been shot until he put a Beretta into his niece's hand. "Yahhh." His face goes white and he gulps. Not gonna puke. Not gonna puke.

He looks down at his upper thigh. The bullet has entered the meat of his thigh just below his hip, and from the relative lack of blood, it seems unlikely that anything but flesh has been hit in the process. Which isn't to say it doesn't hurt. It does. "Geeoooreeemmmmmnnnnnaaaghhh." That said, Jack sags back against the booth's wall.

"Jack! Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Elena freaks even more, reaching out to steady him. "Ohhhh this was such a bad idea I knew it I knew it I knew it…" she moans. "Are you alright? Did you get hit?" OF COURSE HE GOT HIT. She helps him sit on the floor. And then? She tries to peer around the wound. Sure, it's bleeding a little bit, but it's at least not fatal. And then she realizes….

She might have to strip him to take a look at it.

She blanches. Her WORST NIGHTMARE was coming true before her very eyes.

She'll NEVER HEAR THE END OF THIS NOW.

"Jack let me take a look at it." Oh god. Oh god. It was on his HIP. BELOW his hip. She can't just….OH GOD. She concentrates a bit to at the very least take away his pain.

"NNnnnnghh…" With his back against the wall, Jack slides down until he's seated on the floor. With one hand clutched over the wound and one eye squinched half-closed from the pain, he peers up at Elena and gives a slow, quivering headshake. When he replies, his voice is breathless, panting even from the sharp pain that is a nine milimeter bullet embedded in your leg.

"Nnnnn. No. No dice, Meatgazer. I know how bad.. Shit." He sucks in a breath. "How bad you want me to drop trou'." As the pain eases, he's able to extend his teasing further. "You shot me there on purpose, didn't you?" he accuses.

GAME: Elena has rolled LESSEN PAIN and got a result of GOOD.
She takes away the pain at least, Elena looking up at Jack and giving him a look. "Jack it's a -gunshot wound-. I don't care if you're macho enough to hold it in, that thing has to come out! And I -know- you hate hospitals so it's either me, or….well. I guess you can do it but it's kinda awkward considering where it is." And at what he says, her eyes widening at him. "Wh…wh…I SHOT YOU and you're teasing me about being all up your junk?!" she blurts out, horrified. "GOD you're IMPOSSIBLE!" She'll laugh about this eventually. Maybe after a month. Or a year.

Depite his paleness and the beads of sweat that are springing up around Jack's hairline, he grins lopsidedly. Under Elena's ministrations, he's already starting to feel considerably better. Laying one hand on her shoulder to support his injured side, he begins to drag himself up off of the floor. "You're right," he agrees. "I guess I've no choice but to give you the lookie-loo that you long for. Can we at least go back to the Den, though? I'd feel a little exposed here." Waggling his eyebrows suggestively, he purses his mouth into an exaggerated kissy face.

That's right, bitches. Jack can take a bullet and still tease Elena.

"……."

Elena's eyebrow twitches. She gives Jack a long look. And then, he'll find…that she's palming him in the face. Perhaps to block the kissy face from view. "Stop that, you're making me ill," she groans. She takes away the pain entirely, a gradual tingle before it leaves further. And then she stands up. "Come on, I KNOW you're not hurting anymore, at least you'll be able to walk normally without me touching you unless I have to." She pauses. "You big jerk." Ah, nuncle. What would she do without you? So she starts helping Jack pack up his firearms, GINGERLY touching them because she doesn't want to let it go off again. And then? She'll help him up, until he gets on his feet. Then, she'll lead him to the door.

Once Jack's bipedal again, he relieves Elena of the firearms and gives her an arched-eyebrow glance. "Hey, maybe I'll hold onto these for a little while." After tucking one weapon into a belly holster and the other into the small of his back, he lets out a snort of laughter and follows Elena outside to his car. His bloodied pants are enough to earn a few strange looks from passersby, but most people have seen stranger if they've been in NYC for more than a few weeks.

"Seriously, don't worry about this," Jack says, gesturing to the wound. "I've never been shot before, but I've been hurt worse. And if I can walk on it, it can't be too bad."

The drive back is pretty short. Despite his good natured teasing and blithe dismissal of his injury, it feels /weird/ to have a bullet in him. Foreign object, anyone? He's eager to get it the hell out.

"God, Jack, I feel so bad. I shouldn't be shooting ANYTHING," Elena groans. "I'm not….I don't exactly have the killing instincts you and Lachlan have. I'd be too afraid to kill anyone." She looks at her nuncle helplessly. Besides. It was a commandment. She can't break a commandment, right? Though maybe she could, if she had to. She wondered if the Bible covered self-defense.

The drive to the Den is, thankfully, brief. She opens the door for Jack, and thankfully she's not carrying the guns anymore. She closes the door, and locks it, and wanders inside. "Where's your kit?" she asks, and starts rummaging behind the bar, and the back room for it. She'll find it eventually, bringing it out. Sadly this isn't going to be the first time she's stitching up anyone, or digging out bullets. Manny had his share of problems on that end before.

She gestures for Jack to lie on a table, and she rifles through the tools in the kit. "Have you ever been shot before?" she asks. It was a legitimate quesiton - he never really talked about his criminal past much.

Elena grumbles and checks her caller ID when her phone starts ringing, and then answers it.

PHONE: You answer your phone, "Hello?"

Gingerly, Jack hops up on the poker table in his office. Frowning, he wedges his fingers in the hole left in his jeans by the bullet's path. With a quick jerk, he rips an eight inch tear in the fabric and exposes the wound. It's still weakly oozing blood, but the worst of the flow appears to have stopped. "Wait a sec…" Reaching around behind himself, he paws at the back of his leg for a moment. "Lucky. It went right through."

RIP! Exit wound similarly exposed, Jack props himself on his side to be patched up. "As for bein' shot, this is my first time. Was it as good for you as it was for me?" He smirks, but there's none of the teasing innuendo that was previously present. This is more like a joke between buddies. He seems like he's about to continue, maybe even tell Elena a bit about that mysterious past of his. Then the phone rings. Curse you, caller.

PHONE: Jane says, "It's Jane. Hey, are you busy? I've got a bit of a situation here."

"…..wait so the bullet's out?" Elena asks, walking over to inspect the wound gingerly. And then she looks at Jack. "Wait, you've never been shot, seriously?" Cradling the phone against her shoulder as she waits for the person in the other line to respond, Elena reaches out with her fingers to feel around a bit. Yup…looks like the bullet went through. That was what's great about fleshy parts of the body, bullets go through without leaving shrapnel behind. All she has to do is stitch him up.

She takes a cotton swab to stem the blood flow, and while she's squeamish about nudity, she's really not all that squeamish about blood. She swabs the blood away, and uses some disinfectant, dropping the needle into the cap full of hydrogen peroxide to sterilize it. She'll look for medical thread then, pulling out the spool as she frowns at the words on the other line. Still, she continues her work. Whatever was in the other end, it sounds urgent.

PHONE: Elena adjusts her phone to cradle between her jaw and shoulder. "A little…..I'm….Jack got shot, I'm patching him up. What sort of situation?" she asks, furrowing her brows and looking at Jack. She just gives him a shrug. She has no idea either.

PHONE: Jane sounds like anger and stress are building in her as she speaks into the phone, with street noises in the background. "Someone I know suddenly forgot how to speak like an American citizen and how to read." Then she pauses, the pitch of her voice rising a bit. "He…got… what?"

Jack watches Elena approvingly as she goes to work on the injury. Until she tells somebody he got shot, that is. Groaning, he facepalms. "Can we try and keep this between you, me, and whoever you just told?"

The wound doesn't need much coaxing before the flow of blood halts completely. As much as he whines, Jack patches up pretty easily. He props his head up on one arm and uses the stage whisper of one who wants fail at not being rude while interrupting a phone conversation. "Who are you talking to, anyway?"

PHONE: "Uh. WHAT?" Elena says, frowning a bit. "Jane that's….that's -weird-. Even if I got there right now I wouldn't even know how to fix it. And I'm patching Jack up right now. Look, we'll catch up later, okay? Get your friend out of there, Jack's bleeding all over the place. I can't be in two places at once no matter how much I want to right now."

Well, at least that answers Jack's question. He looks satisfied. Could be better, but it could be a lot worse.

PHONE: Jane replies quickly to what she hears through the phone, sounding stunned now. "Yeah, yeah, first things first. Your thing is priority. Talk later, soon." And she doesn't distract the person at the other end any longer.
PHONE: The phone call has been ended by the other person.

She closes her eyes in frustration. How the hell does she even begin to start fixing someone who suddenly can't speak or read English? Elena keeps up what she's doing, swabbing the blood away but it looks like it's ebbing a touch. She looks at Jack apologetically. Popular girl today, this one. First running into Elle who somehow tried to turn herself into a brunette, meeting Jack at the range only to shot, and then Jane with a friend who….suddenly doesn't understand English. She sighs and ends the call, stuffing the phone back into her pocket and gets back to work.

"I didn't tell her I accidentally shot you. We'll say you tried to save me from a mugger," she tells Jack with a hint of a smirk. Now that the needle is disinfected, she threads it, and starts patching him up together. At least Elena's powers provide a handy anaesthetic….Jack won't feel anything at all. "So you're telling me you've never been shot once in your life? I thought…you know. You were into some risky business when you were younger?"

At this point, Elena's the one person that Jack feels comfortable talking freely with. He shrugs, then nods. "I was. But my personal motto is that there's no substitue for good manners, except for fast reflexes. Since I've got none of the first, I specialize in the second." Impassive, he watches his niece skillfully stitch him up front and back. Obviously, this isn't his first date with a needle. "Besides, my life didn't really get violent until I came to New York."

He frowns, and for a moment his eyes are distant. Unfocused. That's quite the realization. Then he shakes his head and shrugs it off. "Before I got here I was a thief and a grifter. Did some other odds and ends too, and I've been shot /at./ But never successfully, until now."

At least she's keeping the pain at bay and Jack doesn't need to swallow whiskey or anything strong to numb the feeling. Besides, alcohol was a bad idea, it thins the blood, and makes it run faster. Elena continues her work quietly, her eyes focused on the wound she's stitching. As she's finished with the wound on top, she looks up at him after snipping off the medical thread. "Okay, roll over, I need to do the back," she says. "So uh. Yeah. Ass in the air." She can't help but quirk a smile at him.

She listens, and she nods. "So how long were you….you know? I mean, it's not like you're that much older than me. Bet you're not even 28." Whenever he rolls over, she'll start stitching where the bullet exited after swabbing and disinfecting that area as well. "So I was the first person who successfully shot you? I don't know if I ought to be proud or mortified. So….what made you decide to go straight?" She pauses. "…well. Sort of straight. And I mean the….you know. Lawful kind. Not like I ever thought you were gay or anything."

"Hrm. Nice." Jack runs the tip of his thumb over his new stitches and grins approvingly, then flops over to stick his backside in the air as requested. Luckily for both of them, the exit wound is low enough that he didn't have to expose any cheek. Nobody needs to know wether or not he rolls like G.I. Joe.

"Anyway," he continues, "I'm 26. Been on the dodgy path since I was a little younger than you. So.. about ten years?" He lets out a self-depricating laugh and shakes his head. "A decade. Man, if I had a real job, I'd be halfway to retirement. I didn't decide to chuck it all until I started meeting you people. You, Hiro, Eli.. You guys made me feel like I was a part of something for the first time in my life."

After the stitches are done, Elena cleans off the wound some more with antiseptic. But it looks like the hole is sealed just fine. "There, all set. Though you better go and grab yourself a new pair of pants though," Elena says with a mild smile to Jack. She dumps the bloody cotton and gauze into the nearby trashcan, and then she starts repacking the medical kit neatly. These things are handy to have, after all. In all of that, she listens. She looks over at Jack and she can't help but grin. "We do gooders are good influences I guess. And hey, you make a decent living now. But if you started that young….explains why you're so streetsmart. It's a good skillset to have, I think. I'm more academic. But I think you've been influencing me a bit too."

She pauses, and she grins at Jack. "Wait till I tell you the story about how I Batman'd into Peter's apartment." She pauses, remembering what she HAD TO DO, and blanches. "……..I'm NEVER doing that again. Holy god. 14 stories up. I'm not bad with heights but it's different when you're looking STRAIGHT DOWN."

Fully stiched, Jack slides off of the pool table and gingerly puts weight on his leg. When it still holds him upright, he grins back at Elena and flashes a thumbs-up. "Well done, Scrappy. You're gonna make a hell of a penis doctor." Not laughing. Won't laugh. "Wait a minute. Batman'd? You Batman'd? This I have to hear."

"I don't intend to do circumcisions," Elena says, giving Jack a -look-. And once Jack stands up, she lets go of her control slowly. He'll feel it now, the pain - but it's a dull throb given the bullet is gone and he's all stitched up. She stretches her hands above her head, and she rubs her face. "He was yelling. I thought he was getting killed. I tried breaking down his door….but you know how wimpy I am. So I…uh. I used the roof. He's on the highest floor of his building, and I knew he had a balcony. So…I just crawled onto the lower ledge and, uh. Dropped in." She wrinkles her nose. "And dropped in hard. It wasn't the most graceful thing I've ever done in my life. And then I picked apart his balcony doors with a credit card. Like in the movies." She gives Jack a -look-. "You're a bad influence, you know that? All my criminal shenanigans, I'm totally blaming on you."

Jack raises both eyebrows and nods approvingly. "You did that? Seriously? Scrappy, I didn't know you had it in you." Chuckling, he meanders over to the short bar to pour himself a glass of bourbon. Well aware that less is better than more in his condition, it's a much smaller glass than he'd like. "I'm impressed," he continues. Suddenly serious, he frowns. "Was everything ok once you got inside?"

"God. I didn't know I had it in me either," Elena groans, wandering over to the bar and dropping on a bar stool heavily. "But he was yelling and hollering, I couldn't just stand there and listen. Didn't know if anyone was in there trying to rip his head off either, I had to do something." She folds her arms on the countertop and rests her head on her limbs. And when Jack asks the million dollar question, she nods. "He was having nightmares. It's common when you have a fever that high. I don't know what the hell he was doing…..before that night he and I haven't talked a week since the ….incident at Elle's. But I recognized the signs. He tends to overload when he uses too many of his gifts in one shot. I found out my abilities can fix him since all of that stress unbalances his internal environs in all sorts of ugly ways. So I did that for him so he can recover from his fever faster."

Jack nods again. He's aware of the constant stress that the younger Petrelli boy always seems to be under. Lifting his glass, he takes a swallow of bourbon before responding. "You did the right thing, then. That poor kid. He's got so much going on, I don't envy him. And that girlfriend of his…" The Irishman shakes his head ruefully. Turning around, he leans back to support his weight against the bar's polished surface. "How's things with that, by the way? No more shockies?"

"Elle's….not a bad person. She's just a little messed up in the head, and what sucks about it is…it's not really her fault." Elena's face turns serious at that. She looks up at Jack. "But she's….actually she calls me often these days. To hang out and stuff. Chat. Be girls. It's….kind of weird, considering she tried to kill me. And it's not like I can trust her with a lot of other things I know. But….I have to keep an open outlook. Peter loves her for a reason, strip away the trigger fingers and she's actually really nice. So I guess….we'll see." She sighs. "My best friend and her had a spat though. It came into blows. Drake's….left New York. He called me to say goodbye. And then, he was just…..gone."

"Ahh. I'm not going to pretend that I like you being friends with her, but I doubt you'd listen to me if I told you not too." Shrugging, Jack slurps down the rest of his drink and sets the glass aside. "I mean.. I respect the fact that she's been through stuff, but she scares the shit out of me."

"It's okay." Elena props her chin on one hand, looking up at him and giving him a small smile. "I mean hell at least this way I can keep her away from you guys, right? Me and Jane can work together on that. And I can take what she can dish out….sort of. But you're right to be scared. Sometimes I am too. She's been training with what she's got since she was eight. Maybe younger. She's leagues ahead of us, I think, in terms of her powers. Came with a price, though."

"Obviously," Jack agrees. "Just be careful around her, ok? And you call me if she does something stupid again, no leaving me hanging until I'm planning murder." With a mock glare, he shakes a finger at Elena. "That almost got messy, and quicklike."

She smiles a little bit. "I'll try," Elena says. "It's not my nature to be reckless, really." Sort of. That's been going the way of the dodo lately. "And I won't, I promise." She leans across the bar, and gives Jack a small peck on the cheek. "I better get going, it's getting late. Thanks for the firearms lessons though." She beams at him. "Maybe we can try again later?" Oh. Crap.

Jack blanches and shakes his head. "No offense, but I'd sooner teach you to drive." He catches Elena up in a brief, one-armed hug, then gives her a gentle push toward the door. "Thanks for the stitches. G'night, hon."

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