Habeas Corpus Verse. First Foray.

[demonologist]

Wes stumbled down the sewer corridor, ignoring the various hurts which plagued his body. He was almost there. To the Hyperion. Not that he believed he'd find sanctuary there, but it was the closest thing to it right now.

Fred. Gunn. He couldn't let himself dwell on his failures. The beast was too powerful. None of them had stood a chance against it. Or the damage it had already wrought with its zombie-lawyer horde. Wes paused, leaning against the sewer wall...

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[demonologist]

It didn't take Wes long to track down a bottle of whiskey. It was even unopened. An expensive brand, most likely Angel's. They needed it more than he did, right now, that was for certain.

He handed her the bottle, figuring she didn't mind drinking straight from the source. Time was still of the essence. Rifling through the medkit, Wes began to set out what he would need to patch her up properly. His side still hurt, and occasionally he grimaced when he moved the wrong way, but he did his best to hide his discomfort. He would have to bandage it up later once they were at the safe-house and had more time to regroup.

After a few minutes of preparation and trying to give Lilah a head-start on the whiskey, he finally checked with her again.

"Ready?"

[succubitch]

She takes the whiskey from him. Given the circumstances, she could care less about drinking straight from the bottle. It's not like anyone is around to care if she's doing so (she knows Wes won't care). She notices a slight wince in his stance occasionally, but didn't comment on it. Right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand.

Which was knocking back as much whiskey as she could before he had to start sewing her back up. She's taken a few long swigs before he finally speaks again.

"As I'm going to be."