kieran sparrow

Bright eyes travelled down his form, watched as he lifted up his shirt and revealed the wound to her. The hole was small but that didn’t stop the amount of blood that seemed to be seeping out of it. Something that was incredibly concerning for the small girl. Lightly, her fingers touched the skin around it, didn’t allow them to go into the crimson liquid but brush over the part that wasn’t injured. Kieran never should have been on set that day, it as much too early after his stay in the hospital. If he hadn’t been there he still would have been tucked away safe and sound from the newest tragedy that bestowed itself upon them “Here” she said, quickly removing the cardigan she was wearing and folding it a couple times. It was thin but would soak up more than his t-shirt “Press it against it, okay?”

Again her gaze shifted, following his once more to the cloudless sky above them. They had made plans to take some time and just admire it- the stars away from the light pollution that Los Angles brought, actually being able to see the night sky. This wasn’t what she had in mind “What about the clunky thing they gave Hallie?” she questioned, slightly resentful that this location was so off the beaten past. She understood it, it was the perfect location but again, seeing Kieran the way he was only frustrated the girl.

Her head bobbed in a nod, damp hair moving along as she took his hand and squeezed it “I can walk, yeah- I think I hit my head but I’ll be fine” All she wanted was for some normalcy. No more tragedy and trauma just some peaceful time with the boy she loved. Cautiously, Maya got up, her head nodding again, reassuring him that she was okay “I’m okay- I’m okay. The air down here sucks but I’ll survive” Without hesitation, she offered him her hand to take and help himself up “We’re gonna see if we can find a paramedic to help you a little- they should have had something for you on site just in case this happened”

He didn’t want to stain her cardigan, but it was soaking up his blood before he could protest. She was always taking care of him. Even when she needed taking care of. She was brave and strong and rarely needed his help, but now was one of the rare times she did, and he didn’t want some popped stitches distracting him from that. She was more importantthan his wound. More important than... everything.

“Nobody’s seen Hallie,” he said quietly. He hadn’t looked for her, he’d been looking for Maya since he hit the ground, but people he’d passed had asked if he’d seen her. “I think if we find her, we find the phone, but who knows if it got crushed for smashed, or...” He trailed off, not wanting to think about any crushing or smashing because it might have been a person, not a phone.

“You hit your head?” he asked, once they were standing. He looked in her eyes, as if they could tell him whether she was lying about being okay. He wasn’t a doctor, but her eyes were as clear and beautiful as usual. What he worried more about was her lungs. She said she’d survive and he nodded, squeezing her hand and kissing her head. “Of course. I’ve got you.” He knew he couldn’t protect her from poluluted air and little oxygen, but he could find her tank, he could get her out of here, he could do... something.

“Okay, he agreed, “We’ll look for a paramedic, but we’re also looking for your pack. I want to find that first.” In reality, he wanted to sleep. He was beginning to get dizzy, but wouldn’t let it show. He wanted to hold her, and give her air, and keep her safe, but he couldn’t do that by lying down, he needed to keep going. So he did, walking hand in hand with her.

“I love you too” He was bleeding. Her eyes darted down to the place where he had been shot, the blood already visible through the fabric on his shirt and she could feel a sense of urgency wash over her. They needed to get out of the hole they had fallen in. He needed to see a doctor or a medic or whoever was available as soon as possible “I care. Let me see it at least” she commented, quickly adjusting herself so she could look up and see just how far down they were. The night sky was framed by the uneven earth, the stars twinkling over them as if this tragedy wasn’t happening. The world felt surreal- like this hadn’t actually happened but she kept her mind close to the ground, convinced herself that it was “We’ve fallen like- thirty feet. Has anyone sent for help yet?” she breathed, eyes back on him once more. 

Maya shrugged her shoulders, like him, her own well being was the last thing on her mind. Her sole concern was on him and whether or not he was truly as fine as he seemed to be. Both of them were too selfless for their own good “I was filming- had it off” she informed him, knowing full well that she would be needing it at some point. The air in that mine was thick, full of mildew and probably a million other things that wouldn’t be good for lungs like hers “It was by camera A last I checked” she pushed herself up more, eyes darting around again as she tried to place where things had been in an attempt to figure out where it might have landed “It’s in my backpack” with all her medications and then some “Are you sure you’re okay, Kieran?”

He didn’t want to show her. There was very little they could do down here besides keeping pressure on it until they found the medics. Or at least the medics’ supplies. She would only worry, and he didn’t want that but... she’d worry either way, and it probably wasn’t as bad as she was thinking. He listed his shirt. The wound was small, and perfectly round. It almost looked fake. It had been healing well, but the dressing on it had been lost in the chaos, and the fall had burst it. It was bleeding much more than it should have been, and for much longer, but he didn’t mention that. He just put his shirt back down, and kept pressing on it with his hand, pretending it didn’t hurt.

“Yeah, thirty at least,” he said, looking up, too. It wasn’t often that he felt small. She asked if anyone had sent for help and he wished he had better news for her. “No one has called down to us. Which most likely means that everyone who was on set is down here. And we’re miles from anywhere, and the phones that aren't broken have no service and no one has found a way out. ...Yet,” he said, making sure to add that last word.

“We’re going to find your backpack and your tank and then we’re going to find a way up. A way home. Okay? You okay to walk?” She asked if he was okay, and he was quiet for a moment. “If you’re okay, I’m okay, May.”

Levi’s head ached, and it wasn’t from the three cups of coffee he had thus far. They were shooting on an off-set location, so he had only brought a few crew members with him as well as pre-prepared meals and snacks. It wasn’t expected to be much of a hassle. If he wanted, he could have even stayed behind and let his crew handle it, except who would pass up any opportunity to see Emma (or rather,  Amelia) in action. And filming had gone unexpectedly well that day…but now, he was holding his head in his hands and taking deep breaths, feeling like he was breathing dirt. One of his first thoughts afterward had been of the supposed curse, followed by immediately wondering how it had gotten this bad he even thought of it now. 

It felt like a joke to still feel the cast on his left wrist while in the midst of possibly obtaining more injuries. The doc said he had one more week with it on, and Levi was depending on that happening. As soon as he knew he was able to move, he sat up and slid back against the wall, not having any idea where he was. But he heard Kieran’s voice, a reminder that it wasn’t just him in here. He lifted his head slowly to look up at the other man before accepting his hand and pulling himself up. “Thanks,” he replied quietly once standing. Levi’s knee hurt as he walked but not unbearably. He had to make sure Emma was okay, starting to feel like he had all the more reason to escape Galveston as soon as possible from any future catastrophes. Slowly, “do you know what the hell that was? Or this place?”

Kieran shook his head as he looked around. Even the trees had fallen down here, their roots connected and twisted around the shattered props and equipment. He pulled a leaf out of Levi’s hair. “The curse?” he said. He was joking, but he didn’t sound like it. He was a scientist, but one some level, he didn’t believe it was possible for so many bad things to happen on one film set without some sort of... reason.

They began walking toward the source of most of the sound, hoping they weren’t going the wrong way. This wasn’t just a pit, he realized now, it was a tunnel of some kind. A series of underground hallways. “My best guess is a mine...” he said, just as he thought of it. “It would explain the metal, and the tracks, and the crash. I guess the weight of the equipment shattere what was left of the roof of it? I don’t know...” He looked over at Levi, who was limping a bit, and still had a cast from the night of the fire. “I’m impressed we’re still alive. We don’t have the best luck, you and me.”

@kieransparrcw

Ringing. For a good couple of seconds that was all Maya managed to hear. The muffled voices of people around her barely penetrating the intense sound her mind was making from the impact of the fall. She wasn’t sure how long she lay on the ground, allowing her mind to come back to her, to register what had happened to them. It felt like a long time, but she also knew how time could be when under any sort of traumatic stress. Sometimes if felt slow, sometimes if felt fast, sometimes it didn’t feel like it moved at all. 

The air was what truly pulled her out of the state she was in, her lungs beginning to struggle a little from the thick, damp surroundings. She had been in the middle of a scene, tank put off camera so she could do her job. That wasn’t uncommon for her but it put her in a precarious situation now. Her eyes shot open, the chatter and panic from the others coming back into the foreground as the ringing died off. Her number one concern was with Kieran. After everything he had been through, the time he had spent in the hospital for this to be his first day back seemed like a cruel joke. He hadn’t fully recovered from the wound and naturally, her mind only went to the worst case scenario.

Slowly and carefully, Maya began to sit up, and instantly she felt the pressure of a presence at her side. Eyes focused on the person, allowed him to come into view and nearly instantly she was visibly relieved “Kieran,” she breathed, hand gripping onto the fabric of his shirt for support as he helped her up “Are you- are you okay? How is the wound? Is it okay?” Any concern for herself was gone, her sole focus on the man in front of her. The man that she had already nearly lost once. “What the hell happened?”

She was alive. He hadn’t even been allowing himself to hope for this, but here she was, her beautiful brown eyes locked on his. He ran his hands over her hair and his thumbs over her cheeks, and he forgot completely about the pain from his reopened wound. She was alive, breathing heavily, but breathing, and he’d never been so happy to see her. “I love you, Maya,” he said, his voice cracking a little.

He shook his head. “I’m fine. I mean, I’m bleeding, but I don’t care, I needed to find you. Are you hurt at all?” he asked, his arms trailing to her arms, looking her over, but then pulling her back in, kissing her head. “The set was placed directly above an abandoned mine. The landowners either forgot it was here, didn't know, or didn’t tell us. The weight of all the equipment caused us to crash right through...” he trailed off, looking over his shoulders. “Where’s your tank, babe?”

Kieran was on the ground, bleeding from his left side. Again.  Then he was up. Confused. Seemingly alone in a hole in the ground. The pain was the only thing telling him this wasn’t a nightmare. He could only imagine what it would be like when the painkillers wore off. He walked (hobbled) across the muddy ground, scattered with broken cameras and set pieces and props. He’d been in earthquakes in California, but nothing like this.

Minutes ago, he’d been on break from filming, grabbing a sandwich from catering. Now... this? Coughing and wincing, he found the caterer, doing the same, propped against a wall. A metal wall? He didn’t try to make sense of it, just held his hand out to Levi. “Come on, man,” he said, his voice raspy from inhaling the murky air. His stomach flipped as he thought of Maya. “Let’s find our girls.”

🛌- Does your muse prefer to sleep under many layers of blankets or only under a few?

He could sleep standing up if he had to.

🎐- Does your muse like to collect/hoard anything?

Not really. He has minimal possessions, actually.

🛋- Does your muse like to have company over?

Yeah, if it’s someone he likes. Wouldn’t have his parents come to stay or anything.

🐰- Does your muse prefer soft, plush textures or smooth and glossy textures?

I hate this question.

🔖- Is your muse a daydreamer? What do they tend to think about? Have they ever caught themselves while lost in thought?

Oh yeah. He tries to live in a world in his head as often as he can. Doesn’t like to think too much about reality. 

📇- Is your muse a gossiper?

No. He knows about things only because they're said to or around him, he doesn’t seek gossip out.

🕹- What does your muse do to occupy themselves when bored?

Reads, watches documentaries, learns in other ways. Makes himself smarter.

🏚- Does your muse like to explore dangerous places?

Not for fun. Did it for a job once and now, no thank you. But he will out of necessity, as we know.

🌋- Has your muse done something stupid and not regret it?

He regrets a lot.

🛣- Is your muse considered a wanderer?

Only because of his job. He’d be a homebody in the real world, probably.

🐺- Would your muse consider themselves a lone wolf or a social butterfly?

Life of the party.

🤝- Does your muse forgive others easily?

God, no.

🎖- Does your muse enjoy praise?

I mean, he’d be okay with a nod and a ‘good job’. He does love his Kids Choice Award though.

🎟- Do they like “so bad it’s good” movies?

Yeah, he laughs at everything. Sometimes he mutes them and makes up his own dialogue to make Maya laugh.

🎠- Does your muse like amusement parks/carnivals/festivals?

He likes everything lbr.

🏝- Could your muse survive on an uninhabited island all by themselves?

Ben heard the conversation only from afar, but didn’t need to understand what was going on anyway. He trusted Kieran to keep the old hag distracted long enough. Once she was out of sight, the man slipped into the bedroom. All windows had been closed, curtains drawn to keep nosy neighbors out. Then, he saw the two kids. His steps quickly carried him toward the girls that sat on the carpet of the unfamiliar room. He wouldn’t remember what he told them as he fell to his knees and pulled his daughter to his chest, a hand on the back of Sidneys head to do the same. Maybe he shouldn’t have sat there for that long, asked if they were alright. Because as he stepped aside to check the hallway after sounds of struggle came through, he found himself tackled by a middle aged woman. The girls screamed, cowered against the wall once again. 

His hands reached for the womans wildly clawing ones, wrists quickly grabbed. She was screaming profanities at them, voice shrill and full of hatred. And he honestly never wanted to clock someone more than in that moment. A hiss escaped the man as a nail scratched along his jaw in his attempt to immobilize the struggling woman. Who seemed to either be tripping on some serious shit or be pumped on adrenaline. He wouldn’t even question a combination of both. “Sparrow, call Jesse and the PI!” Ben hissed, hands losing grip on her as she managed to wriggle away from him. Hands lifted, he briefly glanced at Kieran before his eyes were back on the heavily panting woman, taking a step back to where the tall actor stood. “Listen - we’re not going to call the police if you let us walk out of here with the girls. We’re not going to press any charges.” Hell, that’d be the first thing for them to do once the girls were safe. That woman was a danger to the public. “Just…calm down. Let’s talk about this like adults.” Even when he’d have loved to punch her right in the kisser, they couldn’t. Not when she was so obviously mentally ill…and unstable as shit.

He should’ve seen it coming. Shouldn’t just tackled her to the ground and knocked her out. But he didn’t. All he saw was her turning, far too late to step in for him. From afar, he could hear the footsteps as they closed in - Jesse and the PI. But no one could’ve stopped her.

Somewhere in the struggle, Kieran’s jacket had come unzipped. Somehow, he’d ended up on the othr side of the door where the girls were still screaming and crying. He didn’t know how any of it had happened. The chaos was still happening. The woman was tackling Ben, but now she was tackling him. Or trying to. Or it seemed like she was.

He was at least a foot taller than her, but she lunged at his chest like a feral cat. He pushed her away. And that was when he saw it. In her hand. Like deja-vu.

“Stay back!” he shouted, to Jesse and the PI and Ben and the girls. Everyone.

She had his gun.

He couldn’t be sure she even knew how to use it. She was, after all, a tiny suburban middle aged housewife. But underestimating anyone was dangerous. He looked in her eyes and recognised the fear behind them. She believed she was doing the right thing. It was insane, of course, but it was real for her. They were the bad guys.

“Please...” he said gently, “We’re not here to hurt you. We just love these kids, and we want to take them back home. Their parents miss them very much-”

‘Don’t patronise me, boy!’ she shouted, aiming the gun at his face with her shaking hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other men moving forward to stop her, but he held out his hand. ‘These girls need me. Their parents are not worthy of them. They’ve been brainwashed and traumatised. They’d be better off dead than with their parents!’

He realised what she meant by that almost too late. The barrel of the gun seemed to move without her, away from Kieran, focusing on the door between them, onto the girls. 

In a split second, his mind was back in Afghanistan. With Dorian. His own gun firing ear-splittingly, killing someone he loved. The only thought in his mind was never again, as he dove in front of the girls, just as the gun was fired.

He was vaguely aware of the girls’ screams, and the mens’ shouting, and the woman being tackled to the floor, but his vision was fading in and out, as warm blood pooled from the wound below his ribs.

📱- Is your muse the “oversharing” type?

God, no. I mean, yeah, actually, about some things. He’ll tell you everything he knows, and everything he feels (usually) but nothing about his actual life.

🖖- What “Fandoms” would your muse belong to?

The worst part about the whole situation? Kansas was particularly lenient on its gun laws. And the woman they dealt with was nothing short of batshit. She sounded reasonable on the phone but there was little reason in a woman that stole two little girls from their parents. They had to expect everything, unfortunately. But, as long as they managed to get to the girls, they could handle it. It was a practical thought more than anything. If she truly was alone, it was one woman against four, at least three, trained men. He wasn’t sure what type of training Jesse might’ve had. But at least the man looked like he could rip out a tree with his bare hands. 

Ben didn’t carry guns with him. Especially not when traveling with his daughter. If only he had brought his own shit, going on bare did leave a bad taste on his tongue but nothing he could spend too much time on.  As they waited for confirmation, Ben closed his eyes for a second. Took a deep breath, closed and opened his fists a couple times. Anything to calm himself down. He needed that focus, acting out on emotions could prove to be fatal and, despite the whole ordeal being about his daughter, he had to ignore that for a moment.

He looked at Kieran, nodded as they turned sharply, walked onto the front yard of the house they knew the girls were in. “Kitchen window. Ring the bell once I’m inside. ” Ben muttered the second he spotted the carelessly opened window - probably to seem normal, who really knew. Getting inside as quietly as possible was the easiest part of all. He craned his neck to peek out of the kitchen and into the wide halls that lead to several other rooms. Only two that were closed, quiet muttering and talking heard through the cracks of the doors.

Ben was inside. Kieran rang the doorbell. He heard footsteps coming toward him, aware of every step, estimating the size and weight of the woman they belonged to by the sound. She opened the door. He’d been right. He held a clipboard to his chest, putting on his most innocent smile. Despite the army training and intense intellectual analyzation going on in his brain, he had to put on a front of Republican piousness in order to gain the woman’s trust - if only to distract her for a moment so the girls’ fathers could rescue them.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Calvin McKinley with Young Republicans Against Biased Media, would you have a moment to talk about the repercussions of fake news on our society, and our children?” he improvised. The woman hesitated, looking over her shoulder, and Kieran cleared his throat, continuing to ramble about blasphemy and indecency and Democratic liars to reel her in. She almost seemed to forget about the girls, which signified to Kieran that she wasn’t all there, mentally.

What he didn’t realize was that she might have been acting too. Her eyes narrowed, which he caught, but before he could react, she grabbd the door and tried to slam it shut on him. He pushed it open, and the woman ran down a hall toward an open bedroom door. “Morrisson!” he shouted, catching the woman and pulling her hands bhind her back. She stomped on his foot and elbowed his stomach, causing him to let go and double over. "Ben!” he shouted as the woman ran through the open door.

Maya: I love you too

Maya: Are you there? Have you found them yet?

Kieran: Hey

The elders eyes went wide for a brief moment as Kieren informed him of the lit screen, an unknown, blocked number appearing on his phone. Ben turned off the radio, reached out to grab the device; not without obnoxiously shushing the driver whom he may or may not have threatened along the way. He needed silence. Then, he accepted the call. On the other end, was a voice that left his blood boiling. A woman, mid forties maybe fifties, spoke in the most condescending tone, without being entirely sure whom she was even speaking to. “Ben Morrison. Naama'a father. I am on my way to the airport, I have the money with me and will be sending proof shortly. Though, that is quite difficult without a number, isn’t it? The set is cleared, the cases prepared and plane tickets home booked. Now, you were stating that you would know if we didn’t obey. We did, as you most likely already know. And as you said, no one informed the police or did anything against them rules you put up.” There was an iciness to Bens voice that was unlike anything normal for the man. Dark brows ceased, eyes staring blankly ahead. Everything was a lie. From her demands to her warnings to the things they obeyed to. “I assume I am speaking to reasonable people here. We have yet to hear of their safety or see any proof that they’re even still with you. All I’m asking - as a father - is that you hand Naama or Sidney the phone for a moment so we know they’re okay. That the deal is still up and running. That way, both sides can be sure of their bargain, right?” There was a brief moment of silence that Ben feared he had lost the woman. Then, shuffling, muffled voices in the background. The sound quality worsened as the phone was put on speaker and two familiar voices popped up. “Hey baby - are you okay? Has anyone hurt you? - Sidney is right next to you? She’s okay too? Listen, you’ll be home soon. You’re my brace little girl, aren’t you? You will look out for Sidney as well and I promise you, nothing will happen. Just be good, both of you. I love you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, a small smile on his lips as if his daughter could see it. Then, unfortunately all too soon, the owner of the phone changed again. Ben pressed his knuckles into his temples, waiting for the woman to finish going off about the next steps. “I’ll be at the airport in…” Turning around, he questionably raised two fingers at Kieran. Approximately when they’d arrived at their destination. “Twenty-five minutes. I’ll leave the money, call me back when the time is up. ”

With that, the call ended. His hand shook as he lowered the phone, hand lifted to his chin instead. “She’ll stay in contact. The girls are fine. She apparently agrees to everything I just lied about. She has no one watching us, has done nothing but lying. If we have her on the phone, she might not even realize we’re closing in. Sounded like she was walking around - either nervous or she has a tick of walking through the house while on the phone. Maybe both but that could buy us some time to check the situation and go in. Are you prepared? I need you at your best right now - we all do.”

Listening to Ben speak with his daughter turned Kieran’s stomach. He was happy that the girls were safe, but the fact that they even had to do this... it made it all seem real. He felt like he was back in battle again, which he knew could be a good thing - they needed to be in that mindset for this - but he was still just as afraid as he always was. 

Are you prepared? Ben asked. Kieran nodded, shutting off his brain.

They arrived at the corner. Leaning back, Kieran could see the trunk of a black car around the block. Jesse and the PI. After leaving the driver a generous tip and telling him not to speak a word of this, he got out of the car, one hand on his jacket, almost subconsciously checking again for the gun.

The plan wasn’t perfect. The PI guarding the back door of the small suburban house, Jesse ready at the corner to block the woman’s escape. Ben would go into the house first, Kieran as his lookout. After that... they had no idea what to expect. Kieran texted Jesse to tell them it was time. And then he texted Maya. He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to, but he did.

After a few moments of trying not to look suspicious on the street, Jesse texted back saying they were ready. “It’s a go,” Kieran said. “Let’s get our girls.”

The plan, thus far, was clear. They had to be as careful as possible, anything too wayward could potentially cost the life of the two girls. If they waited any longer, who knew where that crazy bitch would take them. The rational part of his brain wanted to do the one thing that would certainly secure the kids lives - calling the cops as soon as they were near the house. They had the letters, they had footage, it wasn’t a case of two testimonies against each other. To Ben, that made the most sense. Even if that meant the movie would, once again, be shed in bad lightning. He didn’t care and he was certain neither did Jesse and Hallie. The movie was the least of their problems when their childrens life was on the line. Having Kieran along was everything he could’ve wished for. A clear mind, knowing the procedures of a situation like that. Couldn’t have wished for anyone better by his side than the tall man.

Once he, rudely, convinced the cab driver to get them to their destination as fast as possible, he whistled loudly. Waving Kieran toward the car he was already getting into. Ben emptied his pocket, throwing a couple bills onto the dashboard. “Kieran, street name.” He barked, short and coming straight to the point. Ben himself somewhat falling back into old habits, when he had still given out orders. 

His leg nervously jiggled, foot tapping against the latex mat below his shoes. “Anything else Jesse said? What’s their situation? You have my phone, text Yael. Tell her we’re on our way and talked to Jesse.” Usually, he wasn’t really comfortable knowing his phone in someone elses hands but he trusted Kieran. Not only to keep to his own business but to inform the woman of their current plan properly. It didn’t matter what happened all those years ago - nothing had changed for Ben.

“Overland Park. The corner of Valentine and Madison,” Kieran said to the driver, almost the same commanding tone as Ben’s, but of course, less so. He was never the commanding type. “Jesse’s met up with the PI. They’re at the corner of Valentine and Belleview, so if we’re at the Madison corner, we’ve got her on both sides if she tries to leave. They’re working on getting her number. The landline assigned to the house is out of service.”

He texted Yael the plan and told her to make sure to eat and get rest and to tell Hallie the same. They hadn’t been doing much of either, he knew, and probably wouldn’t until the girls were safe, but he had to ask anyway. As soon as the text was sent, the phone rang. A number he didn’t recognise, which didn’t mean much considering it wasn’t his phone, but he did recognise the Kansas area code.

“Could be the PI...” he said, handing the phone back to Ben. “Could be the woman.”