(2018-08-01) Aiding and Abetting
Aiding and Abetting
Summary: Besa tracks Dylan down at the abandoned train station to bring him supplies.
Date: 2018-08-01
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank. You have to use full URLs, like http://coralsprings.wikidot.com/logtitle)
NPCs: None
Scene Runner: NA

Forest - Shady Cove

An old train station used to be here before it was abandoned and the forest has slowly taken it over. There are several decrepit train cars, the building itself is a safety hazard though mostly only locals even know it exists and know better than to venture inside it. The surrounding forest is thick, no obvious paths through the thicket and the canopy above blocks out a lot of the light.

It is a summer night. The weather is hot and fair.

Pretty much getting taken to the hospital in police custody was not the highlight of Dylan's day. Being handcuffed to the bed did nothing to calm his nerves. At least juvie would be better than being sent back to his "foster family". Family, what a joke. Marco and Carl may have bullied Dylan but they were still better than back there. He finally convinced one of the police officers to let him go to the bathroom by himself. As soon as he was alone - »poof« he was gone.

The drugs in Dylan's system has made it all but impossible for him to skip to anywhere he can't see. So getting away has been a comedy of errors. At least he managed to find his way to the old train station to hide out. From the looks of it, not many people would even think of coming here. Dylan managed to steal some clothes so that he's at least not wearing just that damned hospital gown that let the whole world see his ass. The t-shirt that he is wearing is sticking to his back were the wounds left from Marco's stone lances that were intended for Daxton. Why did he bother helping the guy again?

Besa intention was to never think of Tom again. Everyone seemed to tell him that, anyway. But Besa's not stupid, after putting all the pieces together he realized that it was probably Tom who is hurt and on the run. So he packed an old backpack that one of the seniors left with a few pairs of clothing he found that he thinks would about fit Tom, b=maybe a touch bigger, as that's easier than smaller. And then he sneakily raided the kitchen, grabbing granola bars and water bottles. A few cans of soda, not Mountain Dew are crabbed as well. And then Besa grabs a few green apples, Grayson will just have to share. He'd have made the teen a sandwich, but that would require opening the fridge and he'd rather not have Miss Annalee yell at him about that shutting off. Then all it took was a simple tracking spell once he was out of the estate and now here he is, the afternoon sun bearing down on him as he pulls up on his bike. The Ancient tiny teen has a rather impressive gash on his china and his palms are bruised and scratched up from the night before, but other than that he seems fine. No helmet, Rain would be so mad, so that pretty hair of his is wind blow but perfect as he steps off the bike. "Tom? I know you are here. I will not stay long…" He waits a moment, hand on the straps of the backpack around his shoulders, although he doesn't actually expect a response. "I brought you something." He starts to move towards building, intent of leaving the backpack out of sight of the road and then leaving.

There is a couple bumps and thuds before the pale boy steps to the doorway, propping himself up against it. Quite unintentional, he kind of has that hole James Dean look going of him. His hair is completely wild. Dark blue black eyes looks at the Egyptian boy. "Might as well stop with the Tom.. I'm sure that the cops have given out my real name… and so speaking of which where are they… You should know that there is no way I'm letting anyone take me back to that hellhole." Of course, he doesn't realize that Besa has been to a literal hell hole.

If Besa knew who James Dean was, he might be impressed. But as he doesn't, he just frowns softly at the taller boy. "I will call you Tom because that is what you told me." Unless he's telling him to call him something , although Besa doesn't ask what that should be. "I do not normally speak to the police, so I do not know what any of the intent is. I heard Unit 23 speaking. So I came to bring you this." The backpack is slipped off his shoulders, it looks heavy and stuffed. "There were none of the Mountain Dews in the pantry, I am sorry." He takes a few steps, but then stops, unsure if Dylan wants him that close or not. "I shall leave it here." He raises an eyebrow, "I am sorry you feel you've been to a hellhole." Although there's something almost…disbelieving in his tone.

"I didn't lie to you about my name… it's a nickname… You know like Tom Sawyer… by Mark Twain." The boy speaks out. Besa might have heard someone from Unit 23 saying that his name was Dylan Sawyer. "Unit 23? That some kind of special division or something?" Well, not completely wrong. He eyes the back nervously and with suspicion. Looking at him, the bruising is much worse than when Besa had seen him last - and not just from Besa's own lucky punch. "Why? Why did you bring me this stuff?" He squints his eyes at Besa's disbelieving tone. "Don't judge me… You don't fuckin' know me.."

With back pack in hand Besa just kinda does a shoulder shrug, nickname, whatever. He'll call him Tom for the time he sees him then. Another step then he stops and sets the backpack down carefully. "It is….I do not know exactly. They are the ones that apprehended the individuals you were with." After the backpack is down he steps backwards, "I brought you clothes and food because I thought you may need it. If not, I will take it back." A head tilt and Besa's expression shifts slightly to an almost annoyed look, which seems odd on his face, "And you do not know me. If you do not wish for the bag or healing, just say so and I will take it and leave."

Dylan frowns. His pride might be injured and on the defense, but he also knows that he is in no position to refuse. He sighs, "What do I gotta do?" He moves forward and it’s no apparent why he had stopped at the door. Each step causes pain.

Besa takes the question wrong, thankfully. "You will have to let me touch you. And not be squeamish." He quickly adds, "It will not hurt you or do anything to you besides heal you, I promise." The look of pain has Besa wince, "Come. Sit down." He takes a few steps closer, hands raise to help the hurt teen.

Dylan shakes his head. "No what do you want out of it. No one does nothing for nothing." It may sound cynical, but it also sounds like it is something that he honestly believes. When Besa suggests that he sits down, he looks at him and simply says 'oh.'. He swallows slightly and does so, waiting for Besa to get closer.

Besa frowns harder now, "I do not understand people's insistence on everything having a price." Maybe it's how Besa was raised (Ha). "I wish to help you, that is all. After this I will never bother you again, if that is what you want." He steps closer, glancing to the injury that's seeping through on Dylan's back, "Have you ever been this hurt before?" There's something in his tone, like he's seen a lot of injuries. He kneels down next to him, not close enough to be //too/ close though as he explains, "My healing ability is connected to my blood, I will have to cut myself and then you will have to touch the blood. It does not have to be the wound, but it does have to touch your skin. Is this alright?"

Dylan frowns, "Because other than my grandmother anyone whoever said that they just wanted to help has ended up hurting me worse than anyone else." He shrugs, "You got any communicable diseases? " And as far as him being this hurt before, the boy makes a noticeable shift of conversation, not wanting to answer that. There are four "stabbings" on his back. They could have been much worse. Each of the wounds has a large bloody spot in the center of the bandage He smirks, "You wouldn't be the first person to want to douse me with bodily fluids… just the first one with blood.. "

Besa actually pauses and answers honestly, "I had the flu last year." His nose wrinkles, not only at the injury but the body fluid comment, "That is gross." It's hard to tell which bodily fluid Besa was thinking of. But he lets that topic go and shifts so he can pull out a very small ceremonial dagger. It appears to be old, and made of ivory. "I will cut my arm, then all you must do is touch it." He's trying very hard to not startle or scary Dylan. Even if the teen runs away and Best never sees him again, he hopes he can heal him first. When dagger is brought down and bites into the dark skin , Besa makes a soft pained face, but doesn't cry out. Instead he holds his forearm, which has several other scars, to Dylan, "Touch." A request, or order?

Not really sure how much blood he needs to touch, Dylan dips his fingers into the running blood. He swipes it down across each of his cheeks, making a chevron pattern. He's been part of more than one blood-letting ceremony, and he has seen very, very painful and bloody ceremonies for those seeking a vision without using peyote. Then the magic takes place, and it is almost euphoric to suddenly have all that pain just ripped out of you. Dylan is silent for several minutes. His voice is soft and surprisingly a little humbled. "Thank you." He says softly, not much more than a whisper.

Besa's eyes widen, most people recoil. Or have a creepy wanna eat him reaction. Not…ceremonial though. That's not happened in….a very long time. His eyes unfocus when an older memory hits. Finally he closes his own eyes (maybe against that memory?) and reaches in to press a cloth from his pocket against his arm. Instead of saying anything he just nods acknowledging the thanks before he starts to stand up.

Dylan is silent for a few minutes. He moves to put his back to the doorway. "I'm sorry that I acted the way that I did. If I had known you were a holy man, I would not have acted like such a shit. My grandmother will break a broomstick over my head if she ever found out that I told a holy man to fuck off."

Besa's headed towards his bike, though now he's presented with the conundrum of how to ride it while keeping pressure on the cut. He looks over at Dylan, making sure he looks healed. "It should not matter what I am, you should not tell anyone to do that." Well, that's about as holy an answer as one can give. He looks tired, like he always does after a healing, but he offers, "I will not tell her if I ever meet her." Dylan's head is safe. Deciding he'll just walk the bike, it'll still be awkward, but probably the safest. No more falling for him this week, he's at his max! "I hope you find whatever it is you need, Tom."

Dylan blinks a few times, his mouth open. "That's it… I apologize and all you can do is scold me for it. You know, dude, you really need to work on your people skills, and coming from me, that's really kind of saying something." He frowns, "Don't you think you maybe need to rest for a bit… you don't look too steady there." He suddenly appears in front of the bike, putting his hands on it to stop Besa. "Serious, nothing else… just take ten minutes or so…"

Besa's confused, what does Dylan want? "I thought…you wished me to go?" It's not Besa's people skills so much as culture skills. Or maybe it's both. The teen tenses up when Dylan suddenly appears and stops the bike, "I…I will be alright." But he doesn't try to push the bike anymore. "I have had much worse." And then he gives Dylan a half smirk, pressing the cloth into his arm a little harder.

Dylan looks at Besa. "Dude, I told you to fuck off, not to go the fuck away… That is not necessarily the same thing… Yeah, when you decked me for helping you I didn't want to be around you. Can you blame me?" He finally lets go of the bike. "I don't normally get to talk to someone my age… not since I got brought into the crew… Now I have to worry what Marko and Carl are going to do when they get out… "

Besa blinks, maybe it's the fact English isn't his native language, or…maybe modern people just speak weirdly. "I…I tried to tell you, I was ….startled. I am sorry. If you would like to punch me, you can." He takes a deep breath, but doesn't explain about the cults… that seems too heavy for this conversation. They're actually talking, he doesn't want to ruin it. "I do not know that they are going to get out." At least, in Besa's mind they were doing bad things, they will be imprisoned, right? He smiles though, not looking like he's going to try to leave right now, "There is food and some clothing in the bad. I could not get to the sandwich things, I am sorry." He gives a small nod, "You may with to change your shirt, and wipe the blood from your face. It may draw attention."

Dylan chuckles and shakes his head. "Dude, I was pissed in the moment.. The moment passed… So no worries… " He cocks his head and smirks, "If I ever feel like hitting you, trust me, I'll hit you… but not over something that doesn't matter anymore." He reaches up and rubs his fingers through his hair, "I doubt it… David will get them out.. he's done it before when one of us have gotten pinched." He peels off his shirt and scrubs his face with it, leaving himself shirtless, unbothered by it. "Thanks, Dude… but you do realize you just committed a felony, right?"

Besa tilts his head back, his own hair falling into his eyes. He's glad it doesn't meter anymore then? "Perhaps it will be different now, with Unit 23 involved." Another head tilt, but this one is accompanied by a confused expression, "A felony?" Isn't that bad? "I am helping you."

"It's called aiding and abetting… I escaped police custody." Dylan looks at Besa. "Don't worry, I won't rat you out. No one will ever know that you did it, but I wouldn't let anyone else know." He cocks his head, "What is this Unit 23 you keep talking about? The two that were at the abandoned hospital, were they Unit 23… "

"You…escaped the hospital." Besa's maybe not aware of everything, it seems. "I just know you needed help…" Ugh, people. Why are they all so complicated? Still pressing his arm where the cut is, he uses his shoulder to rub his chin where the scrape is. Suddenly he's looking in much worse shape than Dylan! "They are an army?" He's not certain, "They all have powers. The school is at their Estate for now until it is rebuilt." Dark young eyes blink up at him, "I believe all of them were there at the abandoned building."

Dylan looks at Besa, "Yeah, I escaped. Either they were going to send me to jail or worse, back to my foster home." There is actually a touch of legitimate fear in his voice. "I'd rather die than go back there." He shrugs, "All I know is that there was some guy that was really fast… and some blond chick that tried to control me mind. That's when I skipped out of there, until Mister Quickie found me."

A long study and then Besa nods, "Then you will not go back. We will find you a new home." He says that like he thinks it would be easy. A soft head shake, "You do not wish to die, trust me." He doesn't know who the blonde would be, "It sounds like you saw Tempo. He is one of the speedsters, I believe."

Dylan smirks, "I think I like Mister Quickie better… and trust me… one foster home is no better than the next, trust me… Most of them only care about the monthly check they get for putting up with me… If you call locking me in an old freezer, putting up with me…." He shakes his head, "Anyway, when I say this it is not because I am trying to get rid of you, but…. you might want to go ahead and get before someone catches you and you get in trouble."

"We could ask if the school could house you, if you wished…you have powers." He checks his arm, the bleeding is slowing, but it still needs a few more minutes. "I….I have had bad things happen to me as well….I know it is hard to trust people…" Says the boy who just cut himself to heal a kid he barely knows. "It is why I reacted the way I did to that woman. She is with people I do not trust." That hurt him. He glances up, "I will not get into trouble." Why he says this, who knows, but he sounds like he believes it.

Dylan arches an eyebrow. "Um… yeah, probably not.. I don't see anyone wanting to let someone like me involved in anything… That doesn't have me wearing orange…. and I don't care what the show says… Orange is not the new black." Once again, Dylan looks at Besa, "Yeah, really… so you are immune to the law?"
GAME: Save complete.

"There have been…questionable students before." If they can let demons go to the school, they surely should let someone with a criminal record, right? There's more blinks, "Orange…what are you talking about?" Maybe he's very new to America? And TVs? He nods, which isn't exactly true, but, "Healing someone is above the government law." And then he ads, 'You did not wish to do those things, did you? There for it is not your fault." Maybe he's assuming too much, but he thinks Dylan may actually be a good person. Maybe. Hopefully. Or maybe Best needs to go find his grandmother to hit him over the head.

"Questionable… " Dylan is slightly bemused by that. "Orange is the New Black is a tv show… " He frowns, "I don't think that the police care if your healing is above the law." He sighs, "It's complicated… No, it wasn't my idea, but I still went along with it." The fact that he was beaten up and threatened regularly is irrelevant as far as he thinks.

Oh. The ancient teen nods, 'Yes, I do not watch the tvs." Another check to his arm, he leaves the cloth off, but it's still a pretty fresh cut. "I will vouch for you." Just like that. He smiles at Dylan. "You did not hit me when given the chance." He's glad he listened to that inner voice and not everyone else who told him that whoever said that to Besa wasn't worth it. "I think you deserve a chance, yes?"

Dylan looks at the cut. "Hold still." He walks back into the station, then comes back with a handful of spider webs in his hand. He plucks a spider off of it. "Here, this will help." He packs the cobwebs on the cut if he is allowed. "Spider webs help stop bleeding, as long as it isn't too bad. " He looks at Besa, "I think you and my grandmother are the only ones that think that."

Besa doesn't pull away, but he does watch intently. Somewhere poor Rain is twitching. He's going to get so chewed out when she sees his arm. "I did not know that. Thank you." Strangely he watches to see where the spider ends up, showing it off to a safer place if if can. "I try to not cut too deeply, but there must be enough blood to heal.." He smiles, eyes crinkling slightly, "She sounds like a very good person. You are lucky to have her."

Dylan set the spider down gently by brush. He frowns, "Barely have her anymore. She is in a nursing home… I lived with her until some judge decided that she was not capable of take care of herself and me. That's when they started moving me from foster house to foster house."

Besa chews his lip a moment, 'What…what is wrong with her?" He's been known to help the elderly, that's what his plan is with Ashton and Quinn, actually. While they make pretty music to heal their souls, he'll heal their bodies, as much as he can. He looks ip at the taller boy, "I have not had foster homes before, but I know what it is like to be moved and not have the same people." Isn't that foster homes?

Dylan frowns, "She's diabetic for one… on insulin, but the say that she's got Alzheimer's, but I haven't really seen it that much… She's just Grandmother.. she's always been touched in the head.

Besa frowns, it's mostly his nose and forehead wrinkling. "If you would like, I can heal her. I can heal some of the aging symptoms. And the diabetes for some time." There's a long pause as he looks at Dylan, "If you do not wish me to try, I understand too." Not that his Grandmother being healed will get Dylan to go back under her care, most places won't believe 'a mummy came and healed me, I'm all better now'. He carefully flexes his left hand, testing the wound.

Dylan watches Besa for a moment. "Can you really heal her? IF you could I'll be your best friend for live." He sounds sincere. "Though she's in New Mexico, which I'll pay for your ticket.”

Besa's hands go up in a slow down motion, "I can heal some of the damage of age, I….it depends on where she is in her own personal journey." He doesn't want to say that if she's ready to die, there's no amount of healing that can help. "But I will gladly go speak with her and ask if she'd like to be healed." There's a soft nod, "We will figure out getting there later. I will come tomorrow with better food, yes?"

Dylan looks genuinely relieved at the idea of grandmother being healed. "I don't know what to say… You know… I got to ask.. what do you want in exchange.. Nothing is ever really free… " He shakes his head, "No need… now that I am feeling better… I can get out of here and steal something myself."

Besa frowns, looking slightly insulted, "I said I do not ask for anything…." His jaw tightens as Dylan flippantly goes back to a life of crime right in front of him. Maybe that's the punch that Dylan returns to Besa, a proverbial slug to the gut. "I should go." He's got no idea how he's going to find Grandmother without Dylan, but he will, and not going to beg the teen to be a good person. He looks own at his arm, flexing it and then nodding. It'll hold for the bike ride, if he doesn't twist it too hard. "Thank you for the spider webs, Tom."

"You didn't ask. I did." Some injuries are deeper than the scars that are seen. Dylan looks Besa, "What? You were all talkative then "I should go."" He says in his best Besa impersonation. "How long will it be before you will be able to heal ami sani?"

A deeper frown when his voice is mimicked. "Why are you mocking me?" Maybe everyone was right? Talk about mixed signals. Something strange flickers across his face, more memories. Fingers tighten on the handle bar and he blinks looking down at his arm, "I….tell me where she is and I will get to her as soon as I can." Somehow. He may have to bring the twins into this. Or Mrs. Masters.

Dylan blinks. "I'm not mocking you… I was mimicking you.. but you are all hot and cold in the same breath, and I just don't get it." He frowns slightly, letting go of the handlebars. Besa obviously does not get that him continuing to bring food to Dylan would be having Besa continuing to commit aiding and abetting. "If I could, I'd just take you there, but I can't."

Besa looks up, so very confused. "What is the difference?" And no, Besa doesn't get it. "I figured or you would have already. Where is she? I will see about borrowing money for a bus ticket." Or plane if it's far. Or ask Mrs. Master for a portal. But that could be more questions than it's worth. "I will need to know her name and where she is….and if you could let her know I am coming so I do not frighten her…"

Dylan lets out something that is half snort/ half sigh. "Mockery is done for the sake of amusement at someone else's expense. I was just trying to say it the way you do, to press my point. I wasn't making fun of you." He pauses, "Her name is Linda Running-fox. She was put in the Sunny Vista nursing home… " He chuckles. "I'll let her know… "

Besa's not sure that's exactly how that works, but he'll nod. Wetting his lips, he'll repeat, "Linda Running Fox, Sunny Vista nursing home." He takes in a deep breath, using his uninjured arm to hold the bike while he gently pushes back that perfect hair from his eyes. "I will do what I can for her." And then he softly smiles at Dylan, "I am sorry I am not able to help you more." Or more likely sorry Dylan won't let him help more.

Dylan looks at Besa, "If you can help my grandmother, then that is all that matters. I can take care of myself." Oh yeah that is so abundantly obvious isn't it.

Besa frowns softly, "I never knew my family, but from what I have seen of the Masters, your grandmother will hit me with a broom if I do not take care of you as well." Isn't that what old people do? Hit people and give out wisdom? Maybe that's what Besa should start doing. He turns and glances at the crumbling building, "Will you be here tomorrow?"

Dylan shakes his head, "Nah. You'll be safe. She holds me to a higher standard than she does others. That's what family is about too." He glances at the falling apart train station, "Yeah, unless someone comes looking for me, then no telling, but I will try to find you if that happens."

Besa thinks that means she will hit him harder, mothers of all types can be very protective. But he nods, "Yes, I suppose that is what family is about." Maybe he is more family to the Masters then than he realizes. "I will bring you a blanket then tomorrow." And food, so he doesn't need to steal it.

Dylan cocks his head, "You don't have to do that… I'll take care of myself somehow." He doesn't sound too confident, but is trying to. He walks over and picks up the bloody t-shirt from the ground. No point leaving that out for someone to see and get curious about.

Besa sighs, watching the teen walk away. Yeah, there's no way he's not coming back with a blanket and food. "I will talk to you later, Tom."

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