It was his own fault, leaving his phone at home for no one to contact him on. He didn't have a clue that Claire had given Jessica the same information and tabs on him. Yet it shouldn't surprise Diego after the backlash his friends gave him over going without a device to communicate with. Not that Danny or Colleen didn't find a way to slip a cell phone into a coat pocket and give Jessica the number.
The rain came down like a cold shower but it did little to clear away the fog of anger and frustration from Diego. He yanked the hood of the trench coat over his head, tipping his chin down for shelter from the rain. The tense vigilante ran down into a subway station and used the available maps in an effort to pinpoint the address.
"Why does this city have so many damn streets?" he grumbled to himself. Or so he thought. There was a hearty chuckle behind him. Diego pivoted to find what seemed like a blind man with a walking stick who apparently heard him. "I used to feel the same way about forty years ago when I first came here. If you tell me the place you're looking for, I can probably tell you how to get there."
Diego held a wary scowl. "You know every address in the city?"
"Just about. I was a mail carrier for thirty years. I've spent the last ten getting used to the dark after some damage from the towers falling became more than my eyes could handle anymore. Subways are safer than the streets up top, as far as I'm concerned. So where are you trying to go?"
The older gentleman made sense but Diego's face didn't change. Yet he did spit out the address.
"Take the 6 to 51st then walk to Lexington and 53rd for the E. It'll take you to Hell's Kitchen. That's where the address is you're looking for. A lot of Irish there so you should see a lot of stuff for St Paddy's." With that, the man tipped his head and continued walking.
Diego knew that Mary couldn't be too far from where the school was but hadn't imagined she'd be in the vicinity of where Jessica used to live. "Thanks," he muttered after the blind man who raised his free hand in acknowledgment in a gesture of waiving him off as if the gratitude wasn't necessary. Number Two did like that about New Yorkers.
It took a little over half an hour of travel which seemed too short and too long all at once. He couldn't think of a good plan on how to intervene. Diego couldn't think of a scenario that worked other than to jump in if the asshole tried raising a hand to Mary or Charlie. That was it. That was his whole plan. Spend however many nights camped out until something happened. Number Two sunk into his seat with a shake of his head in frustration.
Before he knew it, Diego was on the street and a few blocks from the building in question. His eyes caught someone standing in front but the rain made details difficult to make out from the distance. There was something familiar but he kept a vigilant eye on all of his surroundings. It took a block of walking to realize that he knew the silhouette. His jaw clenched, opting to turn down a street and find his way to the back of the building instead.
no subject
The rain came down like a cold shower but it did little to clear away the fog of anger and frustration from Diego. He yanked the hood of the trench coat over his head, tipping his chin down for shelter from the rain. The tense vigilante ran down into a subway station and used the available maps in an effort to pinpoint the address.
"Why does this city have so many damn streets?" he grumbled to himself. Or so he thought. There was a hearty chuckle behind him. Diego pivoted to find what seemed like a blind man with a walking stick who apparently heard him. "I used to feel the same way about forty years ago when I first came here. If you tell me the place you're looking for, I can probably tell you how to get there."
Diego held a wary scowl. "You know every address in the city?"
"Just about. I was a mail carrier for thirty years. I've spent the last ten getting used to the dark after some damage from the towers falling became more than my eyes could handle anymore. Subways are safer than the streets up top, as far as I'm concerned. So where are you trying to go?"
The older gentleman made sense but Diego's face didn't change. Yet he did spit out the address.
"Take the 6 to 51st then walk to Lexington and 53rd for the E. It'll take you to Hell's Kitchen. That's where the address is you're looking for. A lot of Irish there so you should see a lot of stuff for St Paddy's." With that, the man tipped his head and continued walking.
Diego knew that Mary couldn't be too far from where the school was but hadn't imagined she'd be in the vicinity of where Jessica used to live. "Thanks," he muttered after the blind man who raised his free hand in acknowledgment in a gesture of waiving him off as if the gratitude wasn't necessary. Number Two did like that about New Yorkers.
It took a little over half an hour of travel which seemed too short and too long all at once. He couldn't think of a good plan on how to intervene. Diego couldn't think of a scenario that worked other than to jump in if the asshole tried raising a hand to Mary or Charlie. That was it. That was his whole plan. Spend however many nights camped out until something happened. Number Two sunk into his seat with a shake of his head in frustration.
Before he knew it, Diego was on the street and a few blocks from the building in question. His eyes caught someone standing in front but the rain made details difficult to make out from the distance. There was something familiar but he kept a vigilant eye on all of his surroundings. It took a block of walking to realize that he knew the silhouette. His jaw clenched, opting to turn down a street and find his way to the back of the building instead.