20A/N: I have had this written for three weeks. And then college happened. I worked from sunup to sundown to try and get my equilibrium back. So last night I decided "Screw Organic Chemistry, I am going to edit and type this story!" and so I did. I hope you enjoy it. It was a bit harder to write than the first chapter, but that was probably because of the large hiatus in between writing sessions. No Annie this time, sorry. She'll be in the next one, but I love the Joan/Auggie dynamic in the show.
Thank you everyone who has added this story to alerts and favorites. I am honored that you took the time to actually do something after you read the story and not just click "exit". As always, if you see something wrong, please let me know!
In hind sight, they must have been drunk. Or had brain damage. Or both. They obviously hadn't looked past the cane tapping quietly on the pavement long enough to notice the toned muscles peeking from the loose fitting t-shirt. And Auggie really couldn't blame them. He hadn't fathomed how a person could be anything but defenseless if robbed of one of their senses.
It was a routine evening, walking from the gym around the corner from his apartment. The night was pleasantly warm, with a cool undercurrent promising fall. The strangely appealing sounds of distant traffic and the discordant strains of cicadas rose around him, filling his ears as he lost himself in the moment.
Which was probably why he didn't notice the thugs until they were right on him.
"Lookie here, Chuckie," a man cooed from his right. "We got ourselves one of them dis-ab-led folk." He pronounced the word slowly, like he thought Auggie was ignorant of its meaning. More likely was that he had just learned the term himself and was showing off that not only could he pronounce it, he could also use it properly.
"Yeah!" a gruff, enthusiastic reply came from his left and a little behind. "Lucky us." Auggie was fairly sure the guy was trying to be intimidating, but the ruse was ruined by an adolescent squeak on "lucky".
"Hand over the bag, pal, and maybe we'll letcha off easy," the first man hissed into Auggie's ear, a very sharp knife kissing his Adam's apple.
Auggie silently analyzed his options. Big guy with sewer breath had a knife, but he had no idea what teen Chuckie was packing. A knife he could handle, but a possible gun was a different story. He listened harder, probing the night with his ears, trying to determine what his most effective course of action was.
A quick strike to his temple sent stars bursting through the synapses in his brain. Apparently, Sewer Breath wasn't a very patient man.
"Alright," Auggie acquiesced in a measured voice. "I'm taking my bad off, don't stab me."
Deliberately grasping the messenger bag's strap, he slowly ducked his head as if to remove it. When the bag cleared his head, he gave a quick yank and the strap snapped with a pop. Lunging, he landed on top of Sewer Breath. Frantically feeling for the man's face, he gave a swift punch to the jaw. The street was filled with a blood curdling SNAP as facial bones collapsed inward, followed by an animalistic howl of pain.
Suddenly, teen Chuckie was on him, his hands creating a vice-like grip around Auggie's trachea. Abandoning Sewer Breath, Auggie braced his body and pushed backwards, landing on Chuckie, his throat breaking free. Air whoosed out of Chuckie as gravity pulled them down, giving Auggie a spare moment to roll off the kid and try to reposition himself, hands assuming an automatic defensive position, his lungs frantically pulling in oxygen.
Hot molten flames engulfed his right shoulder, grazing the bone and tearing muscle and flesh. Obviously Sewer Breath had recovered sufficiently and literally stabbed him in the back. All Auggie could think was "Stabbing a blind man in the back. That must be a new low."
Sewer Breath opted to retrieve his weapon from Auggie. The blade grinding the bone was almost more painful the second time around. Warm blood seeped from the damaged skin, saturating his shirt.
Assessing his body's remaining energy, Auggie knew he'd have to end this quickly. Which meant going on the offense. Sewer Breath was breathing loudly, the sound of sucking blood betraying his location. Pivoting towards him, Auggie lunged with both of his hands, hoping his tenacity and the element of surprise would work in his favor. His left hand grasped the blade of the knife while the other felt its way to Sewer Breath's throat.
Grasping the throat tightly, his fingers dug deep into the skin and he was quite sure that his knuckles were blanching. He slid his left hand down the knife, the blade parting the skin. He found the hand grasping the knife and began to pry the fingers off the hilt. Auggie's blood made the handle slick and he easily plucked the knife from its owner.
He glanced towards where he estimated Sewer Breath's face to be and gave a slow, sinister smile complete with bloodstained teeth. Sewer Breath's motivation skyrocketed as he frantically renewed his efforts of trying to dislodge Auggie's hand and make a hasty escape.
With a precise hit to the region of the temple with the butt of the knife, Sewer Breath crumpled bonelessly. One target down, he slowly turned, filing away the small night sounds in pursuit of the other attacker.
The rattle of an aluminum can distracted him for a split second too long and Chuckie tackled him, handing on his chest and letting loose with his meaty fists. The knife skittered away very unhelpfully as Auggie held up his arms to fend off the barrage of blows. Timing for just the right moment, Auggie thrust his left hand, now slick with blood, towards Chuckie's face and smeared it across his eyes and forehead.
Chuckie drew back, an enraged howl escaping his lips as he furiously fought to regain his sight. Luckily for Auggie, he just so happened to have five years of experience in this field. Pushing up from the ground, Auggie seized Chuckie's face with his left hand and hit the neck with his right, rendering the kid unconscious.
Silence blanketed the street. Even the cicada calls were gone. Auggie got to his hands and knees and slowly felt for his messenger bag. After a few moments of searching, he located it and retrieved his cell phone.
He immediately called Joan, though he had no idea how late it was. He knew she practically slept with her cell phone, so he wasn't worried.
"Mmm… hello?" a groggy Joan answered.
"Hey Joan. Sorry for waking you up." He truly did sound apologetic. "I kind of have a problem." Auggie's voice trembled slightly as his adrenaline levels dwindled. At this point, he didn't even care about saving face. He just wanted to get out of this godforsaken alley.
His vagueness worried Joan, who knew all too well he had a habit of getting to the point. "Problem? What kind of problem?" Joan's brain was firing on all cylinders now, all cobwebs of sleep gone.
"Well," Auggie paused trying to find the best way to phrase it. "Two guys tried to mug me." Direct was always best.
"What? What do you mean, 'tried'?" Joan fought fruitlessly against the worry that was quickly overriding her exasperation.
"Well, they weren't expecting a blind man to fight. To be fair, I would have underestimated me too." He quipped, as if humor would dispel Joan's brain frantically churning out possible outcomes for this scenario.
"Where are you?" Joan asked, partly muffled by fabric which Auggie presumed must be a shirt being pulled over her head one handed.
Auggie could hear a sleepy "Honey, who is it?" mumbled from the background.
"A block from my apartment, South East."
Another inquiry of "Joan who is it?" slightly more demanding was picked up by the phone followed by Joan hissing, "Just a moment, Arthur!"
Joan addressed the phone. "I'll be there in five minutes, don't move." Followed by a click indicating the end of the conversation. The fact that Joan knew about the meaning of goodbye to him and deliberately left it out of their conversation warmed Auggie. He knew he had called the right person.
Exactly four minutes and fifty-four seconds went by before a screech of a car quickly breaking and the thump of a car door being haphazardly slammed startled him. After so much silence, he physically jumped.
"Auggie," Joan's stay-calm-in-a-crisis voice called, betrayed by her frantic footsteps.
Auggie pulled himself to his feet and Joan stopped short just in front of him. Silence crept back around him; the sound of Joan's heavy breathing filled his mind. He was safe now. He felt Joan's eyes on him as Joan absorbed the scene around her operative. Inspecting him, she slowly circled taking in the blood stained clothes and the deep bruises that were almost black in the streetlight. She took a breath that sounded like a strangled sob and she pulled him into a hug.
Auggie didn't know how long they stood like that, silent because no words were needed. Joan pulled away first.
"Okay, let me get your bag and cane and we'll get you into the car." No-nonsense Joan was back and in control, solving the world's problems. Joan afforded a disgusted look at the two men who were both unconscious in contorted positions. "I have duct tape in my car." A pause. "Until the local PD get here."
Somehow that didn't surprise Auggie. Joan was so prepared it'd make a boy scout envious.
After settling Auggie into the passenger seat (Auggie protesting about ruining the upholstery and Joan telling him that if he kept complaining she'd make him pay for the detailing) Joan popped the trunk and began duct taping the would-be muggers. She may have been a little too rough, but she did have a bleeding operative in the car that took priority.
Joan was pleased to note that she finished the deed in less than two minutes (thanks to the unintended positions Auggie left them in). A short call to the police and an anonymous tip later, they were pulling up to the local emergency room. Twenty-seven stitches after, Joan delivered him back to his apartment. If Joan happened to fall asleep on his couch basking in the aliveness coming from Auggie, neither mentioned it on the ride to the office the next morning.
A/N: Thanks to The Red Fedora for pointing out that if you are intending to write within the laws of the natural world, not implying the amount of time before Auggie was stitched up is sort of a large, embarrassing hole in the story. It is now (sort of) fixed. The best asset are peers' critiques!