Exit, stage left

Who: Doc, messages to Grayson, Jocelyn, Kurt, and Oz
Where: his backyard and onward
When: 5 AM on

'Early' didn't hold much meaning for a man who didn't sleep. Beyond the notions that other people held for concepts like that, Doc simply saw each day as a whole section of time that reset with every sunrise. Still, he knew it was early enough that the town slept around him in time with his children inside the house as Doc slipped out the back door and into the yard.

He'd packed a few hours earlier, stuffing his old and tattered duffel bag with some loose clothes, tools he'd need for the trip, and the gifts for the twins that were the core reason for his planned time out of town, stepping lightly past Voltaire as the dog squirmed and yipped in the throes of whatever he dreamed about. The kids knew this was coming; he'd explained to both Seph and Syn that the trip was due, that he needed to check on Dylan's progress in finding his family as well as tend to some personal matters, but beyond that and the timeframe, Doc had been sparse on details. He didn't want to ruin the surprise, after all.

Settling into one of the chairs on the back porch, Doc lit up as he dug out his phone with a sigh, thumbing through the directory. He still had apprehensions about this, but what else could he do? The best he could hope for was that there'd be no trouble, and if there was? He had to cross his fingers that those he'd chosen would stand together to find ways of dealing with it. After all, it wasn't like Doc himself could do much beyond advise if there was a situation, and without the ability to help? Well, he figured that was where his cockiness stemmed from; the perspective of not being involved in matters but still feeling like he could really dictate actions or behaviors. So maybe it was for the best.

Drawing in a deep lungful, Doc thumbed Oz's number first as it showed on the display of his phone, listening as it rang and clicked over to voicemail. "Oz," he said once the tone prompted him, "It's Doc. Been keeping an eye on the wires like I said I would, but there's not much to say. The kid's mom flagged some credit card activity a while back, but nothing since. No odd upturn of bodies either, so my best hunch is that they've dropped off the grid and they're running dark. I'm heading out of town for a while, but I'll check the last hit I got on them and see if anything turns up. If trouble comes to town and you need any kind of help, don't hesitate to call me. I can point you towards safe, reliable help. When I'm back, we should get a coffee and talk. Stay safe."

He hung up and sat back with a long cone of exhaled smoke pouring from his lips as Doc watched the horizon, wondering. Oz seemed like a good guy, Doc almost wanted to make his pitch to the young shifter, but something told him it wasn't right to. He probably had his own people and interests in town, given the effort he'd made to help when the curse had exploded. Besides which, Doc already employed one lycanthrope, and they didn't always get along well. "Pissing matches and all," he murmured to himself with a grin, pulling up Grayson's number and dialing.

The nice thing about the phones he'd set up with Teddy, of course, was that Doc could go straight to their voicemails if and when he needed to. He did so now, figuring it'd be best to just leave instructions for the others instead of risking waking them. "Grayson," he greeted into the phone, "Doc here. I'm skipping town for a short while, got some business to tend to. I've taken the liberty of making sure the others' numbers are in your phone in case anything comes up. If there's trouble, give me a call so I'm hip to it. If there's not, just keep an eye on things in town for me, keep Kurt and Synnove appraised of any situations. They have final authority if a decision needs making, but I hope it won't come to that. If I don't hear from you first, I'll be in touch when I get back. Stay safe."

He flipped numbers quickly, punching in Kurt's and going straight to the man's voicemail. There wasn't much to say here; Kurt knew the trip was coming, and Doc trusted him implicitly to handle a situation, even if it was a strange one. "Kurt, it's me," Doc rumbled plainly, "Time for me to hit the road for a while. You've got the reins here if it comes to organizing things. I hope the move into the new place in town is going okay, Jocelyn and an associate of mine are supposed to stop by at some point this week to check defenses of a 'special' sort. If there's anything at all, call me. If it's something that needs my presence? You know how to get me there. Be careful, Kurt, I'll see you soon."

There was faith invested there, that was for sure. Even if Kurt had never contended with the paranormal before, he'd been a steadfast soldier when they'd gone to hunt the Acherus invasion. He'd handle trouble if it showed, as would the twins. Really, Doc's only concern was Jocelyn. It wasn't that she was incapable of the task he'd asked her for, he just worried. Black magic was dangerous stuff, and if danger showed? She'd be putting herself at risk if she tried to fight it off with the others. He had to remind himself that she knew the risks, that she'd chosen anyway, and that she'd be as smart as he figured she was if there was trouble.

He dialed the phone she'd been given, listening as it rang and smiling at the thought of her curled up in bed. "Hey you," he rumbled with a grin when he could leave a voice mail, "I'm on my way out of town, wanted to say goodbye. I'dve done it in person, but I'm on a schedule here. Hopefully this won't take too long, and until it does? Stay safe out there for me. I need you to stop by a little witchcraft store in town, too. The owner, Maddie, is going to be doing up some rites to protect the safehouse. I've got components over there for you to work on individual wardings for the others too, feel free to go crazy." Sighing into the phone, Doc looked out into the sky with his lips twisting into a concerned smile. "If there's danger, you know you can call me, right? And if the safehouse isn't ready? Get to Babylon, get the others in with you. I'll... I'll see you when I get back. Miss you already."

Hanging up before he could say more, Doc finally rose from his seat on the porch and shouldered his bag, moving into the yard. He reached beneath his coat to twist at an overlarge dial mounted on his belt, an old willworker's tool of his that hadn't been needed for years now. Focusing with a grit of his teeth, Doc felt the dial buzz under his fingers as he slowly faded from sight. The cloaking field would let him fly unnoticed, and speed was a necessity with the stops he needed to make. He looked back at the house, waving for his own sake, and snapped into the air on bladed wings of force. I'd better not miss all the fun while I'm gone...