They never woke up

[arkbound]

Who: Dominic and Arran
Universe: Mafia AU
What: Trouble
Warning: Violence

Dominic's head spun. He'd taken at least two blows to it, one of which had knocked him out for a while. That had been the first, and he didn't recognize where he was now. A back alley somewhere, rather than the more public street he'd been on when he was attacked.

He got a hand up to protect his face just as one of the men kicked him hard in the ankle. Dominic curse, but he knew better than to cry out. He didn't recognize the men -- of course, in this current state he could barely count them -- but this had to be a Family matter. It didn't matter which Family, whether someone from his own or a Healy. They were probably out to teach him a lesson rather than kill him, and either way Dominic couldn't afford to get the police involved. Assuming the police didn't know better than to get involved in mafia matters.

He got a knife out into his hand and slashed out at the man closes. He made contact, even if Dominic doubted it was a good blow, and the man cried out, loud.

Another of Dominic's assailants got the knife out of Dominic's hand and kicked it away. At least that answered the question of if they were trying to kill him. He should probably be worrying about if anyone had heard that cry but instead he started thinking about how to minimize the pain to come.

Comments

[hacklesup]

A sharp sound interrupted the struggle. A little too loud to be quiet, but not pronounced enough to draw attention from the streetside. Something warm and wet flecked in droplets against Dominic's stubbled cheek, and the figure nearest him slumped and fell to the side.

A dark shape was breezing forward from the mouth of the alley. His black woolen coat made him seem like a part of the shadowed night given form, and his shoes were quiet against the rain-damp asphalt. One of the assailants crumpled, half his throat torn away by the exit wound of another bullet. The smell of gunpowder was faint but acrid in the air.

It was only when the approaching figure drew close that the shape of his face could be seen. Tanned, his hair short and faintly-curling, slicked back from his face. His broad-featured face was handsome, well-groomed, the stubble thick along the sharp angle of his jaw. Broad-shouldered and intimidating by virtue of his size alone, he radiated a calm, restrained malevolence, as the gun twitched in his hand. He stopped well out of reach of Dominic's arms or legs.

"O'shea? Lucchese? Bratva?"

Competing syndicates. He was demanding Dominic to declare who he was for.

[arkbound]

Rescue hadn't been a thing Dominic was expecting or looking for, and he was pretty sure that this wasn't a rescue anyway. He didn't recognize the man, and he didn't know the right way to answer the question. It was a dangerous question.

Of course, Dominic didn't have many options, other than the truth. While he was generally considered a bookkeeper he was a common enough fixture at certain types of meetings that lying could easily be discovered. And as he was, he was at least a made man, not to be easily taken out without consequence, as unreassuring as that felt.

Still running high on the adrenaline of the moment, Dominic resisted the urge to check his wounds, see how bad his injuries were. His hands were steady where he held them near his sides, a little raised. "L'alleanza." The Covenant. Plenty respected and feared, as a general rule. Dominic was certainly afraid enough of them.

[hacklesup]

Arran watched the young man on the ground, lashes low over his eyes. He had the quiet calm of an experienced killer, and his dark eyes twitched from Dominic's upraised hands to his face.

He measured the one word Dominic game him. Familiar, known, but certainly no solid ally. His mouth thinned.

The muzzle of the silenced firearm twitched.

"Up," he said. "Help me drag these behind the dumpster."

[arkbound]

Dominic was below average height, and his muscle made him more lean than intimidating. The suit he was wearing had been cut to fit him before today's current excursion.

His hands stayed raised as he crouched and then stood, trying to tell through the movement if he had any damage to his ribs and what form it took. His movements were slow because he had no desire to startle the man into deciding other than he'd done so far, and the pain was at least nothing so bad that Dominic couldn't ignore it while he carried out the instruction.

"Thank you sir," he said, as he shifted to grab the feet of one of the men. He didn't ask any questions, but they were there, obvious on his face even if he kept himself from vocalizing them now.

[hacklesup]

Arran dwarfed Dominic easily; but for his bulk, he was light on his feet, and gripped the back collars of the dead men, dragging them with ease, one after the other, stacking them like piled wood.

The thanks surprised him though, and he lifted his chin, frowning faintly at the other man. A slow sigh trickled through his lips.

"You alright?"

He asked it tightly, even tersely.

[arkbound]

Dominic studied the man who'd rescued him for a moment, trying to discern his motivations. Was he asking because he was looking for a weakness, because he was concerned, or because it seemed like the polite thing to do? It didn't altogether matter.

"Perfectly fine." He didn't have time to be anything else.

He straightened a little, trying to draw himself up to his full height. "I'll be sure to see that you're adequately compensated for your assistance."