Chapter 7.2: Come Too Late

Part Two
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"Fine. Come on. We need to salvage this disaster."

He started for the mouth of the alley at a trot. Outside it, was a street with few people. Several blocks down was a tall, wide building with lights pouring from it. The theater.

Vellis caught up to him a moment later as he ran towards it, dashing across the street. A young man in a suit racing up the street probably would have attracted attention. Two young men in suits, one of which had white hair, attracted stares. Castian ignored them, slowing as they approached the front of the building. A man stood by the door selling tickets. Castian didn't even look at the handful of one dollar bills Taff had provided. They were period, that was all that mattered.

The boy gave him a confused look. Must have been too much. What the hell did tickets cost back... now? Vellis was giving him an exasperated look.

"Keep the change." He moved past the boy, forcing himself not to shove. Inside there were more people. One of them came over, offering to show Castian to his seat.

"We're fine," Vellis said, suddenly charming of all things. Come to think of it, Castian hadn't even talked this much to Vellis in the past year, or heard the boy be so chatty. The man shrugged, and returned to his post at another door. Vellis passed through it, showing the tickets. He turned towards a set of lower boxes and Castian followed. Apparently Castian had given the man much too much money. He didn't really care. He hurried after Vellis, trying not to think about the growing headache, or what Vellis had said about getting sick.

They entered the empty box and he pulled something out of his pocket, handing it to Castian. "What..?"

"Earbud, idiot."

Castian sighed at the tone, shoving it in. Vellis put a matching in his own. Carefully Castian reached under his suit, checking that his gun was still there even though he could feel it. He hated the distant feeling in his head, as if only half of him had made the trip. Under the fancy clothing his Warp suit lay hot against his body. Time to go.

"You stay here and keep watch," he muttered, turning to leave.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Vellis' voice came to him through the earbud as well as across the space. Castian shrugged his shoulders, trying not to shudder at the double. It felt wrong.

"No," he admitted.

Vellis moved up beside him, pointing out across the stage where actors preformed to another box. The flag hung off of it, perfectly still, and beyond a few silhouettes moved in the dark.

"He's in there. So Booth should be right outside the door... If he's still alive."

"How do you know?" Castian asked, he knew Lincoln had died in Ford's Theatre, but not much else besides when.

Vellis was staring at him. "I read the stack of papers Taff gave me."

Right. "I didn't have time. Anyway," he smirked, "I think that's the moral support guy's job."

"I will shoot you. Right here."

"Fine." Castian started towards the hall that lead across to the other boxes, trying to look purposeful, but not suspicious. No one was looking anyway, all eyes were on the play, as it unfolded. Castian spared it not a glance.

He slipped down the hall on silent feet. "You should almost be there," Vellis voice in his ear made him swear softly.

"Shut up." A sigh answered him. Then a lower sound Vellis probably hadn't meant him to hear--a moan? Deal with it later, Castian, kill people now.

He came to the corner just as a wall of green light ripped around it, plowing through him. He stumbled, slamming his shoulder against the wall. A gasped sounded over the headset, then the sound of Vellis retching dryly.

"What..." Vellis was sick for a moment, then got a grip. "What was that?"

"Me being too late," Castian whispered, staring into the wild eyes of the assassin. John Booth lay sprawled on the ground, a small gun a few feet from his outstretched hand. The man who'd killed him didn't look much better. Green ran off of him, thrashing and striking out like a mass of writhing snakes. The room was permeated with a thousand greens, painfully intense.

"Help me..." The man dropped sideways onto the floor before Castian could move. Before he hit, he erupted in a green explosion. Castian ducked his head, covering it with his arms against the soundless waves ripped over him. Nausea roll through him, dissipating with the light.

Hope you enjoyed! Looks like Castian might have to salvage this. He might get to kill a president XD.

If you have thoughts, please feel free to tell me, and if you enjoyed consider a vote. And I will see you, on the weekend end... end end end... *cough*, did anyone else hear an echo?

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