Surface Tension | Aage & Mouse
Moving along the Capitol streets was perilous at night. Mouse was very good at sticking to the shadows, but sometimes the shadows weren't on his side. He jogged down the alley and clambered up over the chain link fence between him and his next destination, dropping down on the other side and tripping, his foot slipping out from under him as he landed at an awkward angle on the uneven pavement. He hit the ground on his side, a pained grunt issuing from his lips as his head connected with the concrete. Mouse lay dazed for a few moments before he started moving again, rolling onto his back on the slightly damp ground. It had rained that day, he recalled.
He winced and groaned as he sat up, his head throbbing with pain. Gingerly he touched the side of his head and felt his fingers come away wet, sticky with blood. Just his luck. His ankle wasn't hurt too bad, but it tingled weirdly when he tried to put weight on it once he'd hauled himself to his feet. Mouse hobbled along, forgetting for a moment which street he was meant to take in order to reach Quintus' house. He had to pause to deliberate, standing under a street lamp that pooled light around him in a murky circle. Finally he remembered and shambled down the sidestreet, through the gate at the back of Quintus' property, and finally up to the house. The back door was unlocked for the rebels, always open to the traffic of people coming and going.
He hadn't been there in a few days, though. Mouse had been staying at Thema's, making sure she ate at least a little of the food he and Rona had recently dropped off. The only reason he was coming to Quintus' was because Thema had quite literally kicked him out, albeit with a smile, and claimed he needed to get going already. Mouse had thought about going to see Rona, but he wanted to shower and change his clothes before he did. He wanted to put in the effort for her, to put off the day when she looked at him and saw what he actually was: a homeless orphan.
Clenching his teeth as he limped through Quintus' kitchen, through the spacious foyer, and then up the stairs to one of the first bathrooms he came across, Mouse quietly shut the door behind him and regretted that there was no lock. Facing himself in the bathroom mirror, he turned his head to inspect the side of his head. It didn't look that bad. The small amount of blood had dried already, but his mouth felt dry and his stomach was tied in queasy knots. He was alert enough to contemplate the possibility that he had a concussion, but a sudden knock at the door made him jump. He thought he'd been as silent as, well, a mouse.
He hesitated before opening the door a crack, seeing Aage Mier standing on the other side. "What's up?" Mouse asked, pretending that everything was normal, giving him a tense smile.