Summer Wallock

The night at Greg's pad had gone well, with no trouble from any unwanted visitors. Not of the human kind at least, and nothing that Starlit and her squad couldn't handle. Summer had waited till mid-morning the next day before rallying Conan and setting off to their home. Collin was off at work again, and with Ryan promising to be over later to help keep a watch on things, the woman was determined not to be scared away from her home, no matter what these attackers did. "...I really don't want you worrying about anything. Nadeem is staying another night over with the others, and Ryan will be here in a few hours to keep watch." Summer was on one of her spiels again, trying her best to keep the boy from worrying, even though there was nothing to spare him from that aside to have Raimi back and the threat of the CS eliminated.

Conan

The boy was looking better today, likely due to the fact that he'd gotten some food into him last night and had spent a rather peaceful evening on the couch, catching up on his rest. Walking about still wasn't a comfortable thing, but he could do it without leaning so heavily on Summer, though he still allowed her to help him along, as much for her feeling of security as for his own benefit. But as they toddled up the steps onto the porch, he froze instantly, his eyes looking across the creaky wooden boards and landing on a small object. Whatever answer he might have made to Summer was forgotten as he withdrew his arm from around her shoulders and staggered forward on his own, kneeling with a grunt and scooping up a small item. He lay his palm open, and murmured a low curse once he'd analyzed it - the item in his hand was a bullet. "'Sa sis'teen gauge sho'gun shell. Still live. S'one o' mine - they've been 'ere, an' raided my stash, looks like." He pocketed the shell - and then found out he couldn't get back to his feet on his own. So he reached his hand to Summer, silently requesting help.

Summer Wallock

If the state of her home bothered her any, or the threat implied against them frightened her, the woman was remarkable in her ability to work past it and not show the fear. It was a firmness that was lost if ever she were in direct danger, or particularly if someone she loved was in direct danger - like Conan had been when Raimi was stolen - but past that, she was incredibly collected. Her attitude remained constant and warm, and particularly brightened now that Conan was showing little steps in the direction of better health. What changed her immediate mood was when Conan stopped to retrieve the item on the step, and when he lifted this up for her to see... her face lost some of its glow. "Are you positive it's one of yours?" The woman's voice was a little too quiet, even though she tried for a normal tenure. Guns, and weapons... she didn't like them, and more than that, she found her sturdiness shaken again.

Conan

The teen already knew that she didn't like guns - he'd known it since the discomfort she'd shown when he'd revealed one of his smaller weapons to Ryan when he'd been at the house. But he hadn't quite realized how profoundly she disliked them until now. So he kept his voice soft and calm as he confirmed, "Yeah... m'sure. This partic'lar gun was ol' milit'ry issue - special make from Germ'ny. Ya can't get it 'ere in tha states. Was... my fath'rs gun." His free hand ran unconsciously over a certain area of his middle as he said that, and seeing that she was too distracted, he scooted a little so that he could use the porch's hand rail to get to his feet, which he did with a heavy grunt. And when he had, he murmured, "S'ok... they're lon' gone by now. Bits of tha carbon casin' have star'ed ta flake off... it's been layin' here in the rain, which puts it two nigh's past tha' it was lef'."

Summer Wallock

All at once, the woman's common sense flooded back to her, and she belatedly recalled the hand that had been reached up to her. Conan was already hefting himself up before she could shake off the start of seeing the bullet and, causing her to issue a quick apology and move forward to open the door for him, "Oh, goodness! I'm standing her gawking - here sweety, I'm sorry." The creak of hold hinges sounded as the screendoor was opened outward, and with a quick motion, she had the main door swinging in as she took up a place next to the boy so that he could use her for support of need be. She didn't say it, but the woman had noticed the way Conan's hand crossed a particular area of his midsection, and she could only imagine, with the wealth of scarring she'd seen there yesterday, what had him subconsciously making the motion. "I'll have Greg search the yard for any more." Speaking almost distractedly, Summer took a few steps towards the couch, trying to encourage Conan that way. He may be gaining strength, but she was not satisfied with his current level of strength, nor what she could assume was a good deal of discomfort.

Conan

Just as quickly as she apologized, the teen was shrugging off the importance of it. "S'ok... guns can take some gettin' use'ta, if'n ya didn' grow up with 'em like I did. They scare lotta people... s'pose they'd scare me, if'n I hadn' hun'ed fer my supper so much." Among other things, his conscience murmured, forcibly bringing to mind the bloody death of Carl and making him close his eyes briefly. Let her think it was because of discomfort - that was believable. And as he did so, he tried to make light of the topic. "Wouldn' worry so much 'bout 'em, 'cept the carbon migh' kill some o' tha plants." He saw, with his infinite perception, that she really wanted him to take a seat on the couch - but his instincts, along with the chaos of broken dishes and messes of blankets and clothes in the front room, bade him make his way toward the back bedroom that had become his during his stay here. And the moment he stepped in and checked his closet, he swore aloud, and vibrantly. "'ellfire an' damnation!" He sounded frustrated more than anything else - whoever it was, they'd been particularly nasty about going through his things. There wasn't a shirt or pair of pants among the formerly neatly-hung clothes in the closet that wasn't slashed or torn; half of them mostly burned, and stank of gasoline where they lay in a heap on the floor of the closet. The carpet was scorched in several places, indicating that someone had likely tried to burn the trailer down, but hadn't succeeded. And as he felt for his stash at the back of the closet, his hand went right into the wall. The loose board was broken and tossed aside, and every last gun was missing. A few shells lay loose in the bottom of the compartment - but that was all. "They even took Ar'lyn's rifle... the thin' didn' even fire..." And for the first time since coming here, he didn't just sound angry - he sounded just a little hurt. The rifle had long since rusted solid and stopped working - it was only an object of sentiment to him. But they'd taken that too. That hit him hardest.

Summer Wallock

She lingered in the living room, fighting back the urge to call Conan back into the room and insist that he rest for a bit on the couch. The woman didn't dare look around too much yet, trying not to absorb just how much damage had been done to the place, and knowing it had been even worse before Collin had picked up a few things. But even he couldn't begin to set everything straight, and had eventually given up and reunited with his wife and the others at their son's house yesterday afternoon. Stepping briskly over a tangled comforter and a pile of dirt and leaves from a broken pot, Summer followed after the teen to stand just behind him as he examined the storm that had hit his room. The curses had alerted her of the destruction before her eyes even had the chance to see for themselves, and still she brought a hand to her mouth in silent shock at what greeted her. "Why... why would anyone do this...?" Summer wasn't a naive woman by any means, but it still floored her to experience the atrocities that her own kind could wreak upon others, "I promise Conan, I'll do whatever I can to make this better. I don't know what can be done... but I will try."

Conan

The teen wasn't surprised to find his room destroyed - after all, it was particularly him that the CS always struck against. And though he didn't know for sure that the gang had done this, it was either them or the mysterious shooter - and that person had made it clear that they did not like him either. So he answered Summer quietly, "They do it ta sen' a message. Ta moun' a delib'rate strike agains' me." His voice was a soft rumble as he turned to face the rest of the room, leaning tiredly against the wall as he took in the other side of the room. The mattress on the bed was slashed, the covers in tatters - the decorative ivy that had sat on the windowsill was strewn, dirt and all, in the middle of the sheets, its pot laying forgotten in shards on the floor. The books from the small shelf were strewn everywhere, a few pages ripped out and crumpled. And one of Raimi's toys - a little stuffed dinosaur in a bright color of orange... someone had taken a knife to it. The eyes had been removed from the head. He moved away from the wall to scoop it up and hold it against him briefly, whispering, "Georch," which was the dinosaur's name, since Raimi had always mangled 'George'. It wasn't so much the destruction of the room and the clothing that bothered him - it was the strike against the family that he was just now learning to really care about, and the way that anything that could have been of sentimental value to him had been stolen or destroyed.

Summer Wallock

The disheartening destruction of Conan's room, easily worse off than the other rooms in the small mobile home, was enough to make the woman sick to her stomach. If will power alone could solve problems, she could easily have the teen same from danger and his little brother returned from him. Unfortunately, the woman just didn't have the necessary means to protect her 'adopted' son, other than to support him with what love and words she could muster, and that just wasn't enough in this sort of case.

"I can have George fixed in less than an hour's time." Her voice came softly from the doorway, looking for any way she could hope to lessen the blow of all the destruction, and finding that in the least, she could repair the dinosaur, and Raimi's cherished teddybear. "Come on, sweety, why don't you sit down for a bit and let me clean up a bit."

Conan

Conan wouldn't readily admit it - but he appreciated her offer to fix the little dinosaur. He didn't really understand why it dealt him such a blow to see Raimi's toys torn up, other than to keep carefully to himself the feeling of keen fear that this sort of havoc could have just as easily been inflicted on the toddler - he couldn't have fought anyone with any success. That thought made his stomach churn, forced him to close his eyes for a moment in order to keep his composure. His hand tightened around the little dinosaur - and finally he managed to master himself, after a moment, forcing away a bloody vision that had tried to consume him. He handed the toy to Summer, and moved to seat himself in the room's single chair, the only piece of furniture that for one reason or another hadn't been destroyed. "Gimme a pile, then - I can a' leas' sort an' see wha' can be mended an' saved."

Summer Wallock

The way that Conan struggled internally with his torment wasn't lost on the woman who stood in silent vigil by the door. Mindful of his instinctive reflexes and touch-issues, Summer had the presence of mind to wait until he'd opened his eyes again before she put a hand briefly to his shoulder, then moved towards the side of the room where a pile of clothes and books were heaped up in a mess. "Don't strain yourself too much. If you get tired, you need to rest." Summer urged gently as she scooted the odds and ends of objects within the boy's reach. And after setting a few things straight along the wall, she drifted off into the other room to clean up and salvage what plants she could.

Several minutes lapsed by, leaving the two to unbothered cleaning. When a brisk knock sounded at the door, Summer murmured something about Ryan being a little early, but when the creak of the door sounded, her voice instantly changed, "Mr. Linus, what brings you by?"

"Ben, please." The blue-eyed man politely corrected, his eloquent voice easily carrying to Conan's room, "I was just coming by to check on how you all were doing. Nadeem mentioned you had an unfortunate encounter with the local gang..." Their voices continued on for a moment, sounding as ordinary as any two friends who were having a chat, with Benjamin playing on the sympathy when Summer described to him what all had taken place.

Conan

After briefly noting the hand on his shoulder and taking it as the quiet comfort it was intended to be, Conan nodded vaguely in a way that could have been perceived as an agreement to rest if need be - mostly to satisfy Summer so that she wouldn't worry too badly. And then he settled himself quietly to the task before him, looking over each garment and finding that whoever it was had been very through - where the rest of the house was a mess but more or less intact, every article of his clothing had been damaged, most beyond repair. There were very few things he could put in a pile on the tenative idea that he might be able to mend them later. The books fared a little better; a few torn pages were the worst damage, and with the pieces clearly laying on the floor around him, he could paste them back together later once the greater part of the mess was cleaned up. So he piled the books neatly at the base of the bookshelf to be put away in a few minutes - and around this time, he heard the knock at the door. He heard Summer's comment about Ryan possibly coming early - but just as soon, he knew that the voice that spoke didn't belong to the young officer. He froze and his eyes widened briefly - he was thankful he was out of sight of the door, because it gave him a moment to compose himself. And when he had, he got to his feet and headed slowly for the front room, keeping his hand on the walls for help in staying upright as he moved. When he drew into the room, he allowed his gaze to look mildly surprised, as though he hadn't heard Ben, and then his hands lifted. I did not expect you today - kind of you to drop by. We're just tidying up some. A polite enough comment - but also enough for the perceptive older man to realize that Conan was not glad to see him.

Summer & Others

"...the least I could do." A pleasant smile that could fool anyone that didn't know his darker side was currently doing just that - fooling Mrs. Wallock into an unquestioning trust and respect for the man. Held in one arm was a small basked, filled with freshly baked goods; mostly a variety of cookies and some brownies.

"It's good to know you can still count on a few good, descent people in town." Summer returned in praise, and moved to the side when Conan arrived at the door to investigate the visitor. She would have said something along the lines of an introduction, but the spiky-haired man got to it first. "Nadeem told me what happened, and I stopped over as soon as I could manage. It's barbaric to think how some people can be - to tear up the property of the nicest group of folks in town." At the intended praise, Summer shook her head dismissively and smiled a little more. Benjamin went on, directing his words primarily to Conan now, "Summer says the CrypticSilvers are the ones responsible behind all of this?" The man shook his head with a heavy sigh, showing what Summer easily took as frustration and disdain over the acts of vandalism, "As I told her, if there's anything I can do for you, just let me know. I don't think any one of us has much influence over those unruly gangs, but all we can do is try."

Conan

For the sake of not letting Summer know about teh twisted relationship between him and Mr. Linus, Conan kept his face neutral, not losing control as he had the last time the man had visited them. Part of him wanted to roll his eyes to hear the ridiculously-gentle and kind words Ben was putting out... the other half wanted to scream. But he kept it under control, and answered quietly, 'I am not altogether certain that the Silvers are responsible for this. The one that shot me also shot Lanny - and if the Silvers had been responsible for this break-in, Raimi's toys would have been missing, not broken. Lanny likes him very much - he would have taken the toys to him.' He said that mostly for Ben's benefit, to let him know that something besides the CS was at play - and also half as a way to try to get something out of Ben; he still wasn't sure that it wasn't Ben, or one of his men, who'd shot he and Lanny the other day, and wanted to see how the older man would react to this information.

Summer & Others

He was watching and judging the boy's reactions just as keenly as Conan was monitoring him, and it was all made that much more subtle because of Summer's presence. Surprise lit up the man's features, but this alone didn't give hint to anything for Conan - he was still putting on the act for Summer. What did hint at Ben's true surprise was the way that he paused for a second too long after Conan gave up the information. It had been part of Ben's plan to get Lanny after Conan with the note, while denouncing his involvement in it at all, whether Conan believed him or not. But this new individual... he wasn't expecting that, and for a man that thrived on his ability to reign control of otherwise hectic situations, it bothered him immensely to have an unknown element suddenly thrown in. "The Akatsukis could have taken advantage of the moment." Now Ben was trying to look for any knowledge that Conan had, "They have been feuding for quite some time, haven't they?"

Conan

The pause was enough for Conan - now he knew with certainty that Ben didn't know anything about the mysterious third person that had appeared during what would have definitely become an execution if they hadn't interfered. So here was another place where he and the manipulative man were reluctant allies. 'That would have explained the attack on Lanny - but not on me. Brushfire was disbanded several years before the Akatsuki came to this area - they have no reason to attack me. And you should see my room... it is far worse than the rest of the house. This was obviously a strike against me. But the who is a definite question. Other than the CS, I have no prominent enemies that I am aware of.'

Summer & Others

On one hand, such a virulent enemy against Conan could be a potential boon to Ben, who could have the boy dead and Cassidy in his debt with none the wiser. Plus, the added bonus that he hadn't been the one to finish off the redhead and deal with what guilt he would have had with Aralyn's grief. On the flip side... if someone was so serious against attack Conan that they trashed not only his place, but the houses of his few close friends, that meant Aralyn could easily be targeted. And that was far more than Benjamin was willing to risk, "It is no one that is friendly with the CrypticSilvers." Benjamin murmured in thought, finding himself suddenly constrained by the fact that Summer was here, and unable to dig as readily for any information. "I'll tell you what; a good friend of mine does paper work for the ACDP, and journalism on the side. I'll see if they have any leads." It was a heavily edited version of a sliver of truth, with most of it being said for Summer's benefit again.

Conan

The teen could see the wheel's turning behind the deceptively gentle blue eyes. He couldn't begin to read what Ben was thinking, but he knew that he was mulling this over very hard. Just once, he wished powerfully for the amazing perception Ben possessed, if only to be able to figure out what the man was thinking. But he was never to know that - and Ben spoke up to put a stop to any pursuance of the topic that might have let him figure it out. He wanted to snort at the extremely-altered version of the description of Mikhail's job - but he didn't. The only thing he did was make a mental note that Ben was alarmed-enough, and worried-enough over the potential for this to hurt Aralyn, that he meant to consult the Russian about it and seek out the mysterious shooter. That was enough to calm him some - if there were any way to find out who'd done the shooting, Ben would be able to get that information. So instead, he turned his attention to moving over to the couch, sitting down because he felt his knees would give under him if he did not. 'We appreciate your aid and consideration,' his fingers said, a tiny tremble in them now that indicated that all the movement and standing up were starting to make him a little tired. But otherwise, he looked attentive and alert, not about to admit to the weariness - and hoping to fool them into believing that he was fine.

Summer & Others

"Of course." He allowed for a polite, sincere nod; at least, that's what it look like, to everyone beside Conan, who knew better to rely on the man's words and body language to speak any truth if he had ulterior motives. Instead of leaving, as anyone else might have done when Conan sat himself down to rest from standing, Benjamen dared to linger a little longer yet, "You have my number now, Summer. Like I said, you can call it any time, day or night if you need anything. And Conan, if you can think of anything that might help to uncover the shooter, please give me a shout. I'll give my friend whatever information you have."

Conan

The boy didn't like how Ben was trying to weasel in with the family and become a prominent supporter. He didn't want that sort of interference close to home, and with people he cared about. It made him antsy - but he forced himself to lean back against the couch and close his eyes, disguising his uncertainty as tiredness. He didn't dare strike at Ben - the elder man had enough allies, with enough power, to squash him and his like a bug, and he knew it. So he chose to use an easy defense to keep from having to answer. He waved a hand briefly in Ben's direction to indicate he'd heard - and sighed briefly in a tired fashion to influence Summer to attempt to cut the meeting short. Clearly, he wasn't above manipulating her just a bit, if he could do it with the family's safety in mind.

Summer & Others

She couldn't see through Benjamin's carefully woven mask of friendliness to know that he was not quite the man that he'd presented himself as. And she definitely didn't have the knowledge that Ben had set up the clash that was suppose to end in Conan's death two days ago. What she did see was the teen's signs of fatigue, and responded as the redhead intended. "We thank you for all your support, Ben. I think we'd best get back to cleaning up, but we'll certainly keep your offer in mind." A generous smile was turned to the Mr. Linus, who nodded lightly and took a step back away from the door, "Think nothing of it. And Conan, take care, and keep in touch." A last smile was furnished to the pair before Mr. Linus stepped back from the little porch and returned to his vehicle.

Conan

He kept his eyes closed and listened intently to the situation - he could even hear Summer's head as it turned so that she could look at him, virtue of the soft sound of hair brushing her shirt. Apparently, along with his keen eyes, he also had good hearing. He kept up the pretense until he heard the car pull out of the driveway - and then slowly began to relax, pulling his eyes open and moving to get up from the couch again. Contrary to the act he'd just put on, or rather enhanced a little for Summer's benefit, he got to his feet steadily enough, and seated himself on the floor so that he could begin to sort out the mess of clothes and coverlets strewn over the carpet. But he kept silent as he reached to retrieve and fold one of Collin's shirts.

Summer & Others

"What a gentlemen." Summer commented out loud, fostering the image that Ben had so easily put in her mind. She set the baked goods on the table before meandering over towards Conan and kneeling down on the floor to help shuffle articles of clothes his way. "You just tell me when you start to get too tired. Greg and Collin can help me clean all this up, you don't need to feel obligated to it." The woman moved aside a t-shirt and her smile flickered a little at the sight of a small, shattered picture frame that had been laying underneath. Speaking nothing of it as she carefully picked up the frame, mindful not to spill out any of the glass, she went on undaunted, "And you just tell me when you start to feel hungry again."

Conan

Conan wouldn't tell her that he did feel obligated - felt it because it was his presence in their home that had earned them this kind of fear and destruction. But to keep the woman from worrying too much, he nodded solemnly, and ventured quietly, "How 'bout you fix lunsssh while I pick up thi' mess? By tha time ya get fin'shed, I'll be ready fer a break, 'nyway." He used that to distract from the fact that he'd been pretending to be so tired - let her think he'd only been dizzy, or had gotten a second wind after sitting down for a while; he knew her mind would come up with some reasonable excuse, and if she offered it to him, he wouldn't argue with it. But his mind was distinctly on what Ben had said - and what he hadn't said. If the man meant to look for clues into this whole thing... where would he look?

Summer Wallock

Leaning over to set the frame down on the miniature entertainment system centered against the back wall, Summer rose to her feet and briefly patted away some dirt that tried to cling to her jeans, "You've got yourself a deal, Conan." She would have protested this if he continued to display the symptoms of fatigue he had only a few minutes earlier, but now that some strength had returned to him, she let that drop now so as she wouldn't be too overbearing about his health. Even if she was still considerably worried over it. Not having much more than a few feet to travel until she was in the kitchen, the woman rummaged through the fridge, and as she did so, was listing out lunch possibilities, "Lets see... we've got some hotdogs, oh- there's some leftover pizza from Happy Joe's."

Conan

Somewhere in the middle of his folding, sorting, and cleaning, Conan managed to locate all the remotes to the tv, vcr, and dvd player, and set them aside where he'd be able to find them. His jaw tightened when he ran across a scrawled 'drawing' of Raimi's that had been torn into three pieces, but he said nothing, only setting the mostly-purple and green page aside with the thought that perhaps he could tape it back together again. And then he proceeded to rummage some more, coming up with a few randomly-scattered cat toys and adding more to the already mountainous pile of leaves and dirt that had been trampled in the plant-crowded home. As he was doing this, he was listening to Summer, and answered her, "Dogs," thinking that perhaps he ought to avoid grease for a little while yet, even though his stomach wasn't nearly as queasy as it had been in the last two days.

Summer Wallock

"A good choice." With the main portion of the meal addressed, Summer began to hum pleasantly as she took out a half-empty package and began to search for some hotdog buns to accompany them, and whatever else she could dig up that would fit with the lunch. She hadn't the chance to see the tattered picture that Conan set aside, but seeing that most of the random Raimi-doodles she'd taped up here and there on the walls had been torn down, she could only imagine they were scattered in pieces over the floor. "Matt is a big fan of the pizza. Cold pizza, at that." She informed Conan of this with a huff of fond exasperation, since Matt was basically like another son to her.

Conan

"Tha king o' fine dinin', eh?" Conan quipped, currently occupied by untangling what looked like a pair of earbud headphones. The large, clumsy-looking fingers were having a little trouble - as steady as his hand was when he was firing a gun, he simply wasn't equipped to deal with something quite so delicate and tiny as this. But he kept patiently tugging this cord and that, and was slowly getting the knot undone. "Breakfas' of champions, tha'."