Ripper Street/Tonight there's going to be a jailbreak...

[thirstforvice]

Leman Street was dark and deserted. It was late, and everybody else had shut up shop and gone home hours ago. But the body brought to them late in the afternoon had required several tests run, to try and ascertain the cause of death. Matthew had made it as far as poison, but was still trying to ascertain the type.

He didn't really need any assistance, but Drake seemed to want to stay with him, and he wasn't about to complain. It was probably sensible, anyway; whilst the worst of his withdrawal had passed through, there was still the odd craving that plagued him, and being left alone in his dead room, and all the pills and potions that came with it, was still not entirely advisable.

The first shouts from the cells below came as Matthew removes the heat from under a boiling beaker of water, his final experiment hopefully complete.

"You gonna go check on that?" he asks without looking up, final goal (and, therefore, home time) almost within his grasp.

Comments

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake was already halfway to the door, but he turns to smirk.

"Don't worry your pretty head about it," he says to his lover, before leaving the Dead Room and heading for the Duty Sergeant's desk.

"What's this-"

A felon collides with him, knocking him back against the wall. "OI!"

[thirstforvice]

At the shout, Matthew drops his work and moves to the door, peering cautiously out.

"Ben?"

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake wrestles the escaped prisoner into a headlock, looking up at his Matthew's shout.

"Stay put," he warns, as another man leaps on his back.

[thirstforvice]

"Like hell I'm staying put," Matthew mutters, returning to the dead room only to find suitable weapons. He has his trusty pistol, of course, but that might be a bit extreme unless their assailants are truly after their heads.

He pockets a couple of his sharper surgical knives, and lights a fresh cigarette before moving back out into the hall. Quietly sidling up to the men trying to attack his lover, he casually presses the burning cigarette to the back of his exposed neck. The convict yowls and lets Drake go.

Matthew hadn't really thought about what to do next.

[thegentlemanthug]

"I had that," Drake says petulantly, but with a fond look for his lover.

"Not good at following orders, are you?" Drake swings another punch, taking out another prisoner.

[thirstforvice]

"I was an army doctor," Matthew points out as he just about manages to swerve himself out of the way of a fist meant for his face.

"Not a soldier."

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake floors another convict, and gets himself in front of Matthew, protectively guarding his lover.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll lock yourself in that Dead Room 'til it's over."

[thirstforvice]

"And leave you on your own? Screw that." Matthew remains resolutely where he is, fingers curling around the scalpel in his pocket. He may not be much of a fighter, but he will not willingly put his Bennet in more danger than needs be. He can be some help, he's sure.

[thegentlemanthug]

"Idiot," Drake says, before running at a pair of escaping tarts and herding them against the cell bars.

One of them sinks her teeth into his arm. "ARGH!"

[thirstforvice]

Thankfully for them, the majority of the recently incarcerated are more interested in making their bid for freedom than trying to fight their captors. Wise enough to know he would never win, should he try to guard the entrance, Matthew lets most go without a fight, trying to protect himself rather than the streets of Whitechapel.

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake eventually returns half a dozen woozy criminals to their cells, but the majority of their inmates are running the streets.

"Fucking 'ell," he mutters. "The Inspector's gonna love us, come morning."

[thirstforvice]

"'s not out fault," Matthew shrugs, more glad that they've both survived with nothing more than a few bruises and one bite.

"Lemme see your arm."

[thegentlemanthug]

"It's nothing," Drake says, shrugging it off. "Had worse than a poxy tart wanting me for her dinner."

[thirstforvice]

"Still..." Matthew takes Bennet by the hand, guiding him back to his dead room and forcing him down on the chair.

"You're going to let me take a look before we go home. Just in case."

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake grins at his lover, as he manhandles him into the seat.

"I'm no match for you," he teases.

[thirstforvice]

"I got that one asshole off of you, didn't I?" Matthew laughs as he rolls up the sleeve of Bennet's shirt, glad to see that the bite wound is shallow and clean.

"I'll be a Sergeant before you know it."

[thegentlemanthug]

"You're already a Sergeant," Drake says. "And you can't take orders from no one."

[thirstforvice]

"I'm on a Sergeant's wage. Don't mean I'm no Sergeant." Matthew continues to chatter as he gives the bite a clean up, just to be on the safe side, and then bandages it as well. It never hurts to be too cautious.

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake watches Matthew's fussing with amusement.

"Anyone would think I'm about to lose this arm, way you're carrying on."

[thirstforvice]

Finishing his bandaging, Matthew at least looks a little sheepish as he rolls Bennet's sleeve back down.

"Being careful never killed anyone," he mutters.

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake glances at the door, making sure they're not watched, and leans forward to kiss his lover.

"There's a lesson in that."

[thirstforvice]

"I wasn't gonna stay here with you out there," Matthew frowns, refusing to listen to his own advice.

"No point me being safe if you're not."

[thegentlemanthug]

"I been looking after myself since before you were - well, a long time now." Drake doesn't know exactly how much older he is than Matthew, but he also doesn't want to find out.

[thirstforvice]

Matthew smiles, reaching out and resting his hand over Bennet's cheek.

"You're stepping out with a doctor now. You'll have to get used to it."

[thegentlemanthug]

"And you're with a soldier, a copper," Bennet insists. "You need to learn when you need protecting more than me."