Back at the ship, in the morning

One carriage ride from the hospital later, and Alistair stood shakily at the ship's door. He struggled with the latch for a moment, but managed to climb aboard with little trouble after that. Using the walls as a support, he headed straight to his room.

The room had been gotten into, he could tell. His bed was made for him more neatly than he had left it. There was a cold plate of food and a new hat on the table... and his picture had been moved. He stumbled forward and snatched it up, quickly assessing it for damages. Assured that the little girl had not damaged it, he sighed with relief and clutched it to himself as he made his way toward the bed and plopped onto it, not bothering to shut his door in the process.

Ethan was in the galley, trying to find something to eat, when he heard Alistair stagger aboard. Turing off the small gas stove, Ethan grabbed a cup of coffee, some bread and an apple and took his food with him to the sleeping courters.

"You look terrible," he said when ducked his head into the room and saw Alistair, "Those thugs catch up with yeh after all?"

"Different ones," Alistair mumbled, resting with the picture face-down on his chest. He cracked an eye open. "One of them had bloody fangs." Alistair laughed strangely then, without an ounce of humor in the exercise.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, "You were attacked by a vampire? What kind?" There were different breeds of vampires, some more dangerous than others. Ethan wasn't an expert, but he'd been around long enough to have learned quite a bit. "Yeh aint bout to turn on us o' anything?"

"I don't believe so, no," Alistair answered. "The doctor said I should be perfectly fine. I just need a stiff drink. Yesterday was a hell of a day."

Ethan took out his flask, which was nearly empty. First his cigarettes and now his whiskey - Ana better be planning on paying them soon. After a slightly grudging hesitate, Ethan stepped over and handed the flask to Alistair. "That's all we got, though thar's some coffee in the galley."

He leaned against the wall and took a drink from his own coffee cup, "So tell me 'bout the vampire. They alway make fer good stories."

Alistair weakly unstoppered the flask and took a long draw. That was what he needed... "It was a case of mistaken identity. He told me to go with him and I refused. Then he attacked me. The end," Aliustair grumbled.

Ethan scoffed, finished off his coffee and the stepped forward to snatch back his flask. "Yeah sounds like a tough time," he said rather sarcastically. "Guess I better let yeh rest." He headed for the door.

"There will be someone coming by today," Alistair muttered. "Do let him in."

"I'm not your fucking doorman," Ethan said, before leaving the room.

He was met by the mutt dog, that'd followed him home after Evaleen's. Ethan glanced at it in slight irritation, but tossed it a bread crust, before walking with it up to the deck.

Alistair fell asleep, a bit annoyed at the man, but too tired to care at the moment. Luke... Luke would hopefully find his own way here.

It was around ten o'clock that Lucas found his way to the ship the conman had mentioned. Wen he thought of a ship, he thought of something big and grand. Something for carrying goods and vast quantities of people. What he wasn't expecting was the dingy thing that stood in front of him. His mind couldn't help but wonder just what a ship would be used for, though it was hardly the most important thing on his mind.

With a heavy concentration of breath he moved to knock on the door with his free hand, his other hand carrying all of his worldly possessions in a sack with a metal pipe sticking out of it.

Alistair opened his eyes when he heard the knock, then stumbled down to the door of the ship, opening the door to the person on the other side. Unconsciously, he still held the photo in his hand. "Lucas," he muttered, looking over the man with bleary eyes. "Come in." He stood aside to let the other man in.

Luke glanced down at the picture, his expression shifting into the slight frown of thought. He remembered a picture being mentioned before, but his mind still couldn't help but find the entire story a bit suspicious and too good to be real. Someone comes by, claims to be a long lost family member then offers to pay off his debts? Things like that just plain didn't happen, not to him at least.

After stepping in the ship, e turned to Alistair. "Can I see that photo in your hands?" He asked.

Alistair noticed Luke's change of expression and glanced down to see what his brother was looking at. He hadn't realized he brought the photo with him. Hesitantly, loathe to put it in another person's hands even if that person was his brother, Alistair held it out for Luke to see. "Careful with it. It's the only one I have."

Luke carefully reached out for the picture, taking care when handling it after the information on it being one of a kind. His eyes ran across the picture, taking in as much information as he could. His eyebrows knotted in frustration at hidden memories that he could feel on the surface of his mind, but just could not summon no matter how hard he tried. Not even a clue or a general idea to these people's identities, just a vague sense of deja vu. Part of him wanted to just crumple the picture and throw it away.

His frustration still on his face, Luke slowly moved to hand the picture back. "Thanks," He grumbled, feeling further from the truth than he did before. "Wish I could say I remembered anyone there."

Alistair took the picture back and leaned against the wall, still quite drained. "Maybe you will one day," he answered, reading the frustration. "We never know until we try, Luke."

The con man kept a hand on the wall for support as he led the way upstairs. "There is limited space. You can stay in my room, though it isn't much to boast of. Don't think the owner will mind you in the least bit."

"I'm used to 'not much to boast of' in 'ouses," Luke replied as he followed Alistair up the stairs. "Y'need 'elp? Still not lookin' well as far as I can see."

"I will be fine," Alistair grumbled, not looking at Luke as he answered the question. The truth was that he was quite shaken over the events of the last few days, and still could not fully comprehend how Luke had come to be both alive and walking up these stairs with him.

He pushed the door open, allowing Luke a proper view of the room. "Make yourself at home," Alistair muttered, plopping down on the bed. "We will be sharing it, and I hope we will get along well enough."

The eldest Fairchild moved to stand against the bare wall, nowhere near comfortable enough in his position to try and sit down. He plopped his bag on the floor and moved to cross his arms again, his eyes scanning the room. "This is quite a favor your doing for me. You know I'm not going to be able to return it, right?"

"Ah, just shu' your mouth, Luke..." Alistair grumbled, laying back on the bed. "I don' expec' a damn thing. Now ge' your stuff se'led in, would you?"

Lucas gave his brother, or at least the man claiming to be his brother, a bit of a shocked look at hearing the cockney accent. He should have really seen it coming, but at the moment it was just kind of there and awkward, like the family jewels on a street side flasher.

"Not much to get se'led in," He finally settled on saying, trying to remain polite in avoiding bringing up the accent. He bent down to untie the top of his sack, pulling out his spare set of clothes.

Alistair watched as the man went about stowing his stuff away. "Wha's the pipe for?"

Lucas paused with the pipe in his hands beore he had a chance to set it against the wall. With a quick experimental swing, he replied casually, "Beatin' in 'eads of course. Also windows an' doors when the situation calls for it."

Alistair stared, not the least bit happy with that response since it boded ill. "In other words, you have become a common thug."