Hunting the Hunter

The sun was just starting to come up when her father patched her enough that she could come home from St. Mungos. They had hoped to be home at midnight, and, well, that hadn't happened. Running into James had delayed everything. She and Marcus had had to be rescued from James by Kace Lecium and her father. No one had died. That was the up side. On the down side, she and Marcus had been wounded. Marcus's head had been split by being slammed into a brick wall. The bleeding gash was healed, but he was still bloodstained, and he had a concussion and a fierce headache. His balance wasn't what he needed it to be, and his vision was off.

And, to stop James, her father had daringly place one through-and-through wandshot through her thigh. Then, he'd taken her back to St. Mungos to repair it with a little emergency room surgery. The wound wasn't painless and neither had been the hasty surgery. Her jeans were ruined and had been pitched at the emergency room, and they'd grabbed a set of blue surgical scrubs for her to wear home.

It was highly unlikely that, with a hole through her leg, she'd be walking on it for a couple of days at least and even then, her father figured she'd need a walking cane for a week or two. Wizard healing was faster than muggle methods but it often wasn't instantaneous. Some things still needed time.

It had all taken time, and by now, they were long overdue to be home, all three of them. It was a little after seven, and, if things were on schedule, the house elves were serving breakfast. Angus wasn't working, so her best guess was that either the elves or the others were pitching in for kitchen duty. And none of them would be happy that she, Marcus, and her father had been out all night without a word.

She'd been able to stand, so long as she had Marcus supporting her, but he wasn't steady enough on his own to get them home. Her father had the responsibility of porting them all home from St. Mungos. They all were tired and cold, and they all wanted to clean up and get fresh, warm clothes and something hot to drink. Robert was starving, but neither she nor Marcus were in the mood to eat. They both needed some pain potion and a pillow.

The porting had been bitterly cold, but finally, they found themselves arriving home, porting into the living room. The smell of breakfast was definitely in the house, and they could hear the kids chattering merrily at the table in the dining room.

"God, there had better be tea brewing," Robert said. "I think I'm desperate."

"We probably won't see any of that until someone explains for us," Marcus sighed, waiting for his head to stop spinning from porting. Porting and concussions never ever mixed.

"I was just overpowered," Marcus admitted, accepting anything that would dull the knife-like pain in his head.

"And bloody freaking outnumbered," Robert said, gesturing for Khaat to drink the pain potion. "It was five to one when we got there."

"I do still have a wand, you know," Khaat said, drinking the potion, feeling frustrated that she'd not had a chance to even get off a single shot.

"Next time," Marcus said.

"He's got a whole new level of anger," Khaat said quietly as Marcus lowered her onto the sofa before sinking down beside her. "His energy was more intense than before."

"He's got some new issue or what?" Marcus asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she said. "My face and my arm are fixed. Its a deal with him, apparently."

"It would be," Robert said. "He thinks like an animal, remember. I think he still thinks those marks he puts there made you his. I think he's seeing this as us asking for a fight about it."

"Well, you'd have thought he'd have figured that out a long time ago, wouldn't you?" Marcus said. "Thick as a house with a brain to match evidently." Then he looked at Jack. "No offense, Jack."

"Well, there's something I learned last night at Ministry from Michael," Robert said. "I figure he'll be here at some point today, but, here's the thing. He says that some of the rumblings in the criminal community has it that James may be on the verge of wearing out his welcome with Fenrir.

"Apparently James is perhaps tired of being kept under Fenrir's thumb and he's been amping up for another killing streak. Its rumored that the only thing that's got that under control is the fact that Fenrir still has the power to reel James in, and Fenrir is fed up with James' screwed up ideas of world domination because of the risk that it puts the whole pack in."

"Yeah, but how the hell old is he now, anyway?" Marcus asked.

"Oh, at least 80," Robert said. "There haven't been that many cases of werewolves taking care of themselves well enough to live to old age, so there's no telling how much longer Fenrir will be able to keep control of his pack or of James. Unless I miss my guess though, I may honestly be finding myself in agreement with Fenrir. The last thing we need is another string of killings." He looked at Jack. "We're definitely going to need you to be on high alert for James. We're down two men right now with Marcus temporarily out of commission and Angus already on medical leave. I presume you're up for it?"

"Thank you," Marcus said, "This is one time I'm grateful for it. Jack, you're welcome to any insults I have for that big ugly bloke."

"James slammed us into a wall," Khaat said, "The back of Marcus's head too the worst of the impact."

"I'd like to stay here and converse, but I'll get blood all over the sofa if I do," Marcus sighed. "I need a shower."

"Go rest after that," Robert told him. "Try not to walk into walls or fall on your arse, would you?"

"I'll try," Marcus said dryly. He got up and made his way slowly upstairs.

"He's got a concussion," Robert told Jack. "He's not going to be worthwhile fighter for a couple days. And I'll have to get with Jess about Khaat's leg. That may be messy business. Between her, and Marcus, and Angus, I think we're going to be extra busy here for a few days."

"Oh, and Michael's bringing the boys back for awhile," Khaat said, remembering. "Being a dad to twin 1-year olds is proving to be a bit much for a 62 year old first time dad. I told him we'd take them for a bit and give him a break."

"Lovely," Robert laughed. "Then its mayhem as usual. Should be fun. Outside of that, there's nothing on the books is there?"

"Thanks, Jack," Robert said, glad that he was going to make sure Marcus wasn't going to have an opportunity to make things worse for himself. He saw Jess check her leg.

"Yeah, that actually was my doing," Robert confessed. "James had her held hostage, and he was using her as a shield. He was counting that I wouldn't hurt him because it would risk hurting her. So, I called his bluff. Its a straight through and through shot, nice and clean. I had to hit him with it, so it had to go through. Didn't see much of a choice. I'd rather have her wounded and home than with him or not alive at all.

"Had her in surgery at St. Mungos for damned near three hours to repair it, but that doesn't mean it isn't going to bleed for a bit and be ridiculously sore. Its going to hurt like hte devil for awhile, I'm afraid. I was actually aiming for a little lower than I got, so it's going to be touchy and get ticky pretty easily. And if the sutures don't hold, we might well have to take to it a second time. Keep an eye on it, Jess. Ice might slow down any bleeding or swelling. But, you're right, she's definitely going to have to stay off it."

"Jess, I'm going to drink my tea and then go up to check on Angus. That's one wound we have to keep up with. Sorry I left you without any word last night. Wasn't my plan. I'm presuming you were at least able to keep him comfortable. I'll feel better about him when he's healed enough to be out of serious condition. And if that all goes well, I'm going to change clothes and go to work." He sighed tiredly. He had had a long night and knew he needed a little food and sleep himself. He just wasn't sure he could afford it.

"Yes, thank you," Khaat said.

"Hm. Change of plans, I think. I've got to go see if the kids left any food in the house. I'm starving. Then I'll check on Angus, shower and go to work. Oh, one more thing, Jess," Robert said, heading to the dining room with his tea mug. "They're both going to bruise like hell won't have it by tomorrow this time. You can up the pain potion or if you need to."

"He's a worry wart," Khaat sighed. "Its not like you haven't seen our routine battle scars before, Jess."

Brian was on his way out of the dining room with a kid hanging on each of his legs, and two more trying to climb up his back to ride piggyback, and then he saw Khaat and Robert. He stopped short, seeing Khaat first and seeing she was hurt.

"Hold on, Guys," he said to the kids, trying to pry them all off. Typical toddlers, they were all excitement and energy with no ears. They weren't listening. "Where's Jack when you need him. Or Steven. Or somebody, for crying out loud?" he sighed.

"You hatched them," Robert said simply, continuing on to the dining room. "You deal with it."

"'Said the father of one child," Brian narrowed his eyes, scowling back at Robert, wanting to see Khaat but being awash in little people.