Shield 2- Home?

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With her arm secured tightly across her chest, Nel stared at her reflection in the bedroom mirror. Slightly numbed by painkillers, she examined the swelling of her face.

"Bull shit!" she said to herself, wanting to rip off her bandages and be able to move her body freely again. She had too much to do.

Nel ran her left hand through her short hair, her bangs falling long over her forehead into her eyes. The platinum blonde was a drag to maintain on her own.

She heard the door open and shut behind her.

Shun stood next to the entrance, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Starring.

Nel felt the heat rise again, two hot coals burning into her from a distance.

"What is it?" she called out, still looking at the mirror, his reflection a shadow in the distance. She ran her finger across her jawline.

Silence.

He walked over slowly. In the gloom of the room, he appeared to glide forward.

Producing an ice pack, he touched it gently to the side of her face.

The coldness felt good, but she did not lean into it.

His eyes appeared half-closed in the mirror's reflection as he looked down at her.

"What now?" he asked, the sound of his voice lingering in the stillness

"We wait for your master to wake up." A drop of condensation slid down Nel's neck and disappeared down her blouse.

"Will you stay in T city?" he asked in a calculated voice. Their reflections locked eyes. Inside Nel, the urge of pushing him away rose and fell like a long breath.

"For now. I just returned," she said. Raising her left hand, she held on to the ice pack. He did not lower his hand.

She could feel the heat his body radiated or was it hers?

"If you have something to say, just say it. I am too impatient for your fucking mind games!" Her voice was harsh but generated no reaction. He was still an immovable force.

"We found Oli. He is on his way here." Shun delivered the news like someone informing you there were no survivors in this car crash they were living and Nel's heart sank.

"Where is my brother?" she asked a slight panic in her voice, the authority and strength gone. "Is he ok?"

Shun lowered his hand and added, "He is on his way." Putting his hands in his pockets and without a hint of humor he said, "You were gone too long. He is not what you remember."

Nel clamped her eyes shut. In the darkness behind her eyelids, she could see fists and elbows, knees and feet flying towards her face. Sighing, she did not flinch or shrink.

A large hand grabbed the nape of her neck. She opened her eyes. Leaning closer, Shun whispered, "Today this dog is wearing a muzzle." Nel turned slightly to look at him through the corner of her eye.

"...What?" she exhaled, not sure she heard clearly.

Letting go, he turned to exit the room

"Shun!" Nel called out. He stopped, not turning "If you ever strike me again it will be the last time, understood?" The figure giving his back to her nodded. Without a word, he exited the room.

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She could sleep for a week. She could be buried in her bed, disappear into the baby blue sheets and pillows like a sailor drowned in a storm.

Three hours after finally falling asleep a soft touch awoke her. Confused and in pain, Nel opened her eyes "wha...what?"

Oli had arrived.

With shaking hands, she dressed and walked downstairs where he lay collapsed on a leather couch in the library.

At least 20 pounds lighter, his thick hair hacked off in a choppy fashion, done in a hurry. Dark circles under his deep sunken eyes, chapped lips and greasy skin.

A fucking junkie.

Nel knelt before him and took his cold hand in hers. If it weren't for the sling, she would hug him, pull him into her lap and embrace him until he was once more that beaming, bright boy she remembered.

He smelled of filth and decay.

"Big bro?" she asked with a soft voice, trying to be warm and welcoming. "Oli? Are you awake?" His eyes popped open and rolled crazily around the room to finally rest on her.

She smiled, a sad broken excuse of a professional gesture. He grinned at her; the gaps of missing teeth welcomed her with the embrace of fowl breath.

"Nel!" he croaked with a dry voice. "What a surprise!" He sat up, raising his arms, ripping his hands from hers, the veins of his forearms pierced black and blue, scratch marks on his neck and arms.

"Do you know where you are?" she asked in a steady voice.

He chuckled dryly, "In a fucking mansion." He rolled his eyes sarcastically, "Where's daddy? Baby boy wants a hug from his papa." Nel shook her head and laid her palm on his cheek. He retreated, shaking her off, the smile gone. "Don't touch me," he growled, menacingly.

The energy of the room shifted, and her bodyguards inched forward, ready to intervene. "Fall back!" she barked. "Have you forgotten the face of your master?" she almost roared. She could have screamed at the top of her lungs in frustration.

They hesitated. There was no respect left for the young boss. He had made sure of it himself.

The older son, only heir, proud junky had finally returned home to claim his place.

Fidgeting, bouncing, bobbing and scratching he looked around the room counting six people in total. Oli laughed loudly, "Where's the husband? Left him in Q city? Too good for this side of town? Too good to come back to the T?" he cackled picking his nose.

Nel got up from the carpet. "Milo is in the hospital in intensive care. He was shot. We don't know if he will wake up."

Oli's smile disappeared immediately, his eyes sharp and focused. He took his finger out of his nostril. "Who?" he said with a low aggressive voice. Nel felt goosebumps run down her body from the top of her scalp. Breathing in slowly she composed herself.

The sword unsheathed its blade.

"Nel?" he said piercing her with his gaze, "WHO?"

She swallowed, "An arms dealer from Q city. An arms dealer from the south district." she said, calculated.

Oli tilted his head slightly to the side and opening his eyes wide he repeated in a loud scream "WHO!?"

Nel flinched. "Fat Bard," she said immediately

Oli threw his head back and laughed, "The fucking Black Cats contact!? Fucking Fat Bard! When did he grow a pair?" He was hysterical. No one answered.

Everyone in T city knew that guns where the south district's territory. They had the whole market of firearm contra banding. The kings of the boom stick. Gun powder empire.

Their leader, a ridiculously strong man with the nickname of Black Cat for his dark skin and green eyes. He kept a few favorite nephews that felt untouchable under his wing.

Normally polite and soft spoken, if you crossed him the wrong way, he would bash in your skull with his metal walking cane.

Nel was familiar with the Cat's nephews since high school when small time punks would claim to be one of them to intimidate classmates and get what they wanted.

She knew these nephews and until not long ago both he and his people in Q city where on good terms with her personally.

A misunderstanding had brought all of this down on them and now war unavoidable. Death was knocking on the door and Oli was eager to answer.

His shield would be prepared

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