drownedindreams | You leave looking for a job, you find somebody with no face.

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You leave looking for a job, you find somebody with no face.

Friday: Kidnap your own children, and run for it, waiting for your husband's biker gang to hunt you down.

Saturday: Reconcile the fact that your husband is now not your husband, three years younger than he should be, and your four-year-old son is now a one-year old. And you're in an inescapable city.

Sunday: Look for a job.

Tara tipped her head back as she walked on the sidewalk. She had a map, she had the manilla folder that had not only contained money, an ID, a room key for her apparent apartment, and a lot of other things, it had twenty-seven sheets of paper, neatly stapled together. It was a transfer request, her certifications and scores, her records. It was the key to her practicing again, and there was no mention of her write-ups, her pending felony charge that made Oregon withdraw her offer. There were summaries of the papers she'd written, it was exactly what you would expect if you were trying to transfer hospitals.

All wrapped up neatly, and tied with a bow. She hadn't wanted to wait - when she found out how much daycare cost, how Jax only had weekends off - she knew she had to go now. Darrow was new to her, but she could manage. She'd done the 'start again in a new city' thing more than once, and she wasn't worried about finding where she was going.

It's possibly that she should have been more concerned; she ended up turned around, and when she looked back at the map, she squinted at the streetsigns, looking down again just as somebody bumped into her. "Sorry," she murmured, and then she turned, the words dying in her throat. "Actually, I'm a little lo..." Her eyes flew wide, and she stumbled back a step as she bumped into the car parked by the sidewalk, trying to both gasp for breath and scream at the same time.

There was a man - well, it was more of a man than it was anything else, mid 40s, a little pudgy around the middle. He was wearing jeans and a sweater, but he had no face. None. Not a scar, not a blemish, it was just blank.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, god." She scrambled for her phone, just as she realised she didn't know where she was, she didn't even know if 9-1-1 was a thing here, and she ended up taking a step forward. "Sir?" She raised her voice, not even knowing if he - or it, really - could hear her. "Sir, I'm- I'm a doctor, we've got to get you to the hospital." She reached out for it's arm, her hand shaking, even as her other hand groped in her purse for her gun, because she didn't know what, if anything, it could do to her.

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It was driving Ishiah crazy, being unable to track down the source of what had put Robin in the hospital, faceless and unconscious. He'd heard rumors, tracked down every single one to its source, and still at the end of the day, he ended up with no more action he could take than the first minute after he'd found Robin at the restaurant, wandering aimlessly through the tables. Anger was an understatement; sleep was impossible.

But fortunately, being peri, his reflexes were as quick as they ever were, and when he heard someone scream in the distance, Ishiah was there in minutes, sword at the ready.

"Don't harm the man," Ishiah said sharply, seeing the woman's hand reaching into her purse for something. "He's unconscious and has had his face stolen by a spirit that's roaming the city. It's none of his fault, and he won't harm you. His body is simply operating on autopilot, so to speak." Ishiah quickly breached the distance, one arm wrapping as snugly around the man's chest as he could, which brought the faceless man to a stop, arms hanging limply by his sides.

"What?" Tara still had her back pressed flat against the car she'd bumped into, and her eyes were as round as saucers because not only was there a man - a faceless man that she was really, really fucking sure he needed to go to the hospital, there was another one who came from somewhere and was carrying a broadsword.

A broadsword. And he really, really seemed to know what the hell was going on, nevermind the fact that it was completely impossible. "He needs to get to the hospital- how-" Her brows furrowed. "How the hell is he still standing? Or breathing? He doesn't have a mouth." She couldn't stop staring at him, at the blankness of his face and it made the part of her that evolution couldn't erase, that was terrified of other - that part of her mind was still trying to scramble away as fast as possible even as she mentally put together the structures that were missing.

Optic nerves, cartilage, lips, nose, eyes - the eyes were the worst part, it couldn't ever be made to exist where there was no orbital, but he had the jaw structure that suggested that he still had a mandible-- "Jesus christ," she breathed, and finally her eyes flicked to Ishiah. "I'm a doctor. He has to go to the hospital - god only knows how long he's been out here." Later, she'd freak out. Later, she'd protest the fact that spirits don't fucking exist, but right now... whatever happened to him.... he'd die, if he was left out here. It was a miracle he wasn't dead already.

"Agreed. He needs to get to a hospital," Ishiah said, brows deeply furrowed as he raised a hand to feel for a pulse. It still felt strong, and he could sense no amount of fever either; as far as he could tell, this must have been a fairly recent theft. Either that, or there was something about the way that the spirit stole faces which preserved them for a time.

Neither of those things changed the fact that he needed to get the man to where he could be monitored.

"I don't have answers as to the how. No one has come forth yet with understanding of how the spirit takes faces — but I can assure you that spirits are capable of acts beyond natural law. That the man isn't dying from lack of oxygen should show you that much," he said, lips pressing into a hard line before he knelt and picked up the man, whose body was now mostly limp, and sat obediently in the cradle of his arms. "Walk with me. Are you a doctor employed at Darrow General?"

"Yeah, well," Tara said as her back tensed, as she let go of the gun and shifted her purse back up to her shoulder. "I'm not really well versed in things that don't follow natural law, if I'm being super honest." She frowned, and moved with him once he started walking. "He should be trached," she said after a second, her brows still furrowed even as she watched his arm fall limply down. "In case whatever is keeping him alive stops... working. And IV fluids and nutrition, monitoring-- some sort of brainscan would indicate if he's in pain, although-" She forced herself to stop, her lips pressing in a thin line.

"I... uh. Showed up," she said, because showed up is the only way she knew how to put it, how she'd been dumped in front of Jax's apartment at two in the morning yesterday. "In the middle of the night, yesterday. So, no. Not a doctor at Darrow General, although if everything goes well, I will be." For more reasons than one, apparently.

Needing a job was a big one, and getting daycare for the boys - either through the hospital if they provided it, or having enough money that Jax wasn't living hand to mouth to afford it, but even more than that - Tara had defined herself as a doctor for so long, losing that because of the shit with the club... it'd been one of the worst things that'd ever happened to her. "My name's Tara," she said shortly, looking over at the man he was carrying yet again, and sheathe that bounced against his calf as he walked, hanging off his belt. It was an... odd... choice of weapon. Later, she'd tell Jax that he might have wanted to mention just how weird this place was.

"I am not so sure that he should be trached," Ishiah admitted, checking on the sword by his hip before continuing on the closest path to the hospital. "Consider how long he has probably already been walking. Even the passing of the minute or two since we've met should be reflected in his complexion, but there doesn't seem to be a problem in that respect. IV fluids and monitoring is a good idea, though." His expression turns darker, the anger around him almost palpable, and his hands hold onto this new victim with a little more force than necessary.

"My partner's face was taken. It didn't take look to notice he was lacking in nutrition and growing dehydrated." Unfortunately, a brain scan wasn't an option for the puck. Too different than that of a human's. Too much of a chance that people would notice, and flag Robin as a risk, a liability.

Ishiah shook his head. Flying off the walls in his anger and frustration didn't make sense right now, particularly not with a new Darrowian on his hands.

"I wish you luck at the hospital. It shouldn't be too difficult to get hired, provided you can prove your current knowledge," he said, glancing over at the young woman. "It's nice to meet you, Tara. My name is Ishiah. I have been in the city for approximately a year."

"It's not that he's not surviving now - he obviously is, through some sort of... I don't know, osmosis process of the oxygen, or- or something, for all I know he's got some sort of breathable membrane, but it's if whatever... this is, if it stops working. There at least should be kits on standby." She shrugged, still walking beside the two of them, and it's rolling over in her brain again and again and again, the million different problems this man would have, and how the hell he could have ended up this way.

She blinked when she realised he was still talking - of course he was. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said quietly, not knowing what else to say. "If there's anything that I can find out there, if I do get hired, I'll let you know." She knew how frustrating it was to not have information, and even though she'd just met him, it was all she could do.

"Thanks. That folder thing was nice enough to give me a full set of transfer papers, and as long as I don't hit my head between here and there, I should be good on the proving. I'm a surgeon." She bit her lower lip for a second, because with her hand... that could be the only problem. "Ishiah. Alright, then." She looked over at him again when he said he'd been there for a year, awkward phrasing aside. "You have? Can... I ask, how common is this... sort of thing? This sort of crazy... I mean, unusual, things?"

Ishiah didn't give too much of an acknowledgment to the woman's sentiment. He appreciated it, but at the same time, there was no use lingering on platitudes or circling around the idea of wanting to help. All that the peri had wanted to do was provide context for why he was behaving as he was — a little more harshly, a little more directly — and perhaps most importantly, a little more open to cooperation.

"It's good context for a newcomer to have," Ishiah said instead, referencing the remark he'd given. Most people came into the city thinking that they would only remain for a short amount of time, when in truth, most people stayed at least a year in the city. Many were coming up on two. "And I wouldn't say that events like this are particularly unusual. This city is a meeting point between many different worlds and realities. What may seem unusual or impossible for your reality may be the norm in another. The range here is probably greater than any individual world that funnels into it. But when it comes to those that hurt or affect people so broadly, and without a clear path to address... once a twice a month, I would say."

"Jesus Christ," she said lowly, and she hoped - she prayed that he was wrong, that he was exaggerating - because it was into the frying pan into the fire, and it wasn't- this wasn't something she even knew how to start handling. "That's- I have two small children. It's not- This isn't- This isn't happening," she finally said, her voice flat, and she pressed her lips together. "And even if it is, we're just not going to discuss it, right now. We're going to get our friend here to the hospital, and we're going to figure out what the hell to do then, and if I can figure out anything from the doctors about your partner or anybody else with this, I'll let you know. Okay?"

Even with the man in his arms, the look that Ishiah gave his new acquaintance was calm and even. It had to be, to combat the way that he could already see that she was letting tension and fear get the better of her. As much as Ishiah was frightened by the prospect of Robin not having his face returned to him, panic would never do him any good. (Neither would a temper, but there were some things he still had trouble reasoning himself out of.)

"I think you will find that the population here is also much more equipped to handle the difficult situations that it encounters. If anything, the people here are more aware than they are in each individual world. Someone will probably come forth who has information on this incident; someone will probably be there to scrutinize and oversee the next," Ishiah pointed out, his tone placating. "But I appreciate your help. I'm sure that you and the other doctors at the hospital will work hard on this case. Do you have someone else who is able to help you look after your children?"

"Oh, good," she remarked, not actually knowing if she meant it sarcastically or not. "I guess I'm just not quite part of the population yet, since I still get freaked out by stuff." She said it quietly, and then bit the inside of her lip hard as they kept walking. "That information - do you think it will fix them? Do you think there is a way to fix them?" She looked over at him, trying not to look at the faceless man. "Do you think that this is something that's usually reversible? I mean, the things that happen here."

She took a deep breath, wishing - wishing this was different, somehow. "My- When I was home, he was my husband, but from where he... came from," she said, trying to figure out the phrasing. "We weren't married yet. But whatever that makes him, he's with the boys." She shook her head - both just to herself, and to him as well. This was.... impossible. All of it. "But there's no point doing anything besides getting him there, for now. I know that much." He was right to just carry him to the hospital, because they couldn't just leave him.

Ishiah glanced over at the quiet skepticism that the woman offered, reassessing the manner in which he could best speak with her. He could see already that she had a tendency to react emotionally, however much she tried to temper it with her careful breathing and assessment thereafter. Not the type of individual he anticipated being any help out on the field, and not someone he wanted to share fully with.

Fortunately, there was no reason yet to cast doubt on her ability to do her job.

"I have no way of knowing whether or not what happened to these victims is reversible, but that doesn't change the fact that this new information is good for prevention. And if there is a way to restore health, it can only be through the dissemination of knowledge and combined efforts," Ishiah concluded, stubbornly even in spite of his own feelings regarding Robin's state. He was angry, he felt staggered inside, but what was the point of showing that?

"As for yourself and your partner, you two are not the only ones to arrive from different times, and you will find a way to resolve that one way or another," he added. "I don't mean to be unsympathetic, but your conclusion is correct. For now, you do what you must."

Tara nodded as Ishiah brought up the fact that if someone came forward, it might stop this from continuing to happen. "You're right," she said after a moment. "I don't know enough about what's going on, in either case, to know the outcome - I didn't know if you did." She chewed on her lip for a moment, her brows furrowing together. "Oh, I wasn't- Sorry. I wasn't complaining, or... looking for sympathy, I just didn't know what to call him, so that it... made sense."

She looked over at Ishiah, even as the hospital came into view. "It's good of you, to carry him. An ambulance having to load up, come out there, and go back - I probably wouldn't have even known where to tell them to come. Thank you, for that."

Ishiah's gaze dropped for a moment. Truthfully, walking the man to the hospital was not the fastest course of action — he could probably fly the man there in far less time. Unfortunately, he held back, still not sure that the whole of the city would understand such a gesture, or such a creature. Doing good in the human population seemed to be easiest when actually dressed in the guise of a human.

Besides, it was the life he had chosen to live. Among humans, almost as though one of them.

"It's fortunate that I'm familiar with a couple such cases," he admitted with a slight nod. "But there's no need to thank me. I would like to think that most people would do their best to help however they're most suited. It just so happens that it's easier for me to carry a person than to diagnose."

Tara had absolutely no idea that he could fly. If she had, she would have told him to take him that way, even as she quietly wondered if she'd lost her fucking mind and just ended up delusional, somehow. It wouldn't really be until she'd spoken again to Jax, until she'd gotten the one person she knew and trusted to tell her that yes, this was definitely a thing that happened here that she'd be able to accept all of this fully.

"It's still something that should be done. Thanking, of the people who help. It's important." She sounded like she wasn't going to budge on that point. "But... I agree. It's important to help, it's just that most people don't. It's good of you, that you have." She flashed a smile at him, then turned a little, to glance at him. "I'm going ahead, to get them to get a gurney ready. Yell if you need anything." She said it simply, not waiting for him to say anything before she jogged to the ER, quickly telling the woman at the desk that they needed a gurney for a faceless man that was being carried in, from outside.

Ishiah tilted his head quizzically at the woman as she ran on ahead without reserve. There was something to be said for her ability to keep calm even in an unfamiliar situation such as this one, and without any clear background in dealing with the paranormal. At the same time, she was very much human, almost willfully so. He continued walking, even as she ran ahead, by that time already enough in the open that he didn't feel comfortable spreading his wings.

With his stamina, though, he was able to pick up his pace and arrived not long after Tara, breath as calm as it was prior.

"One with restraints," he piped up, raising a brow. "This man was walking when we found him. It's possible he could start up again."

Tara didn't get how he was just there, but she didn't even ask, just nodding to the nurse, and she moved without thinking to lower the side of the bed that was brought even as the nurse stared at her and then moved to pull her away even as another one moved to help the man.

"Ma'am, you can't-"

"I'm sorry," Tara interrupted. "I wasn't thinking, I'm a doctor. He bumped into me on the street, and Ishiah was kind enough to bring him here. There wasn't anything identifying about where he was, I'm not sure how long he's been wandering."

The nurse blinked, startled, but she nodded. "Alright. We'll call the police, they'll need to take your statements."

Tara nodded, and looked back at Ishiah. "I can tell them everything, if you like. You don't have to stay."

Ishiah glanced from the patient to Tara, then back to the nurses. There was nothing that he could further tell the nurses that he hadn't heard from them in the first place, and as for the specifics of this case, Tara had encountered the patient before Ishiah did, however briefly. He could agree with the sensible solution she was offering, and so nodded politely.

"I would rather stay out and see if anyone else might be wandering," he told her. "But thank you for the help. I trust that you'll see that the man is cared for as much as this hospital can provide."

He turned to the nurses. "And thank you for all of your hard work. It's greatly appreciated."

With that, he turned towards the exit, with plans to take to the sky and scour the alleys once more.

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You leave looking for a job, you find somebody with no face.

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