Sully sat quietly at his desk, frozen in place as he stared down at the paper in front of him. His official resignation from The Ministry had finally came through, along with the death report of his partner. The glass of whiskey sat almost empty, though he'd poured almost a whole bottle into the damned glass. His vision was blurry as his eyes teared up, drops falling to the page below, splattering across the parchement. The moving pictures on the paper, the flashes of words across the page. Peter Sullivan, charged with the murder of fifteen witches and wizards, along with the murder of his wife and attempted murder of his son James Sullivan, still at large. He is armed and dangerous. Please call the Ministry if you have any leads.
James stood at the bar, downing his fifth shot of the night. He was drunk, terribly so. "Listen bub, you're done. Cut off." the bartender said, attempting to pull the bottle away from the man. Sully's gaze shot to the man, a deadly stare that would have scared any ordinary man. But this was in fact, Mackenzie O'Malley he had as a bartender, an old friend and almost a brother. But this night, he was preventing him from getting black out drunk. "Listen, asshole. I will fucking rip your arm off." Sully growled, grabbing the bottle back from the tall man. His scars shone bright against his tan skin as he knocked one of the lights, glaring up at it before stumbling off the bar stool. Mack came around the bar, bat in hand. "James, I don't want to have to hurt you. Gimme the bottle and leave, mate." Mack said, reaching for the bottle. His brows furrowed as he stared at the man, body tensing as the bottle was taken from him. Red crossed his vision as he stared at him for a moment, then everything went black.
Sully woke at St. Michaels, hands bandaged and a monster of headache. His hands were bandaged, and he winced as he looked at the wires that had been hooked up to him. Fucking hell... he thought, ripping the wires from his chest as he slowly stood. He could see out the window, at the bustling hospital that was a St. Michaels. Sully could see the nurses moving in and out of a room, mumbling something about a patient who'd been in a bar fight. Shit. he mumbled, quickly ditching the gown and dressing into his clothes from the night before, black jeans and a white dress shirt. Which was now stained with... blood. Of course it had to be blood. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his wand from the hidden pocket in his pants and waving it over the shirt. It slowly returned to it's pristine condition, and his wand returned to its proper place in his sleeve. The black blazer from the night before lay draped over the chair, and he pulled it on, smelling of old beer and stinky alleyway. Nurses shot him funny looks as he exited his room, moving across the hall to glance into the room. Mackenzie O'Malley lay in the bed, face bandaged and chest bruised and bandaged as well. Sully looked at his own hands, felt his own pain radiating out from his knuckles. It wasn't the first time he'd beaten the shit out of his friend, but he felt bad this time. He'd always been there and yet they still ended up in this position. "Sorry, mate." he said loud enough for his friend to hear as he stared at him, giving him a forgiving smile and waving at him as he passed. Sully took a deep breath, sighing heavily as he turned out an emergency exit and ended up behind the hospital. His wand slid from his pocket, a spell slipping from his lips before he apparated back to the school.
Sully landed in the gardens of Beauxbatons, wincing as he moved to sit on a bench nearby. The smell of the flowers, the air blowing through his shaggy auburn hair. It all honestly made him want to vomit. But he didn't, nothing in his stomach to come up even if he had. He could hear students around, bustling around to get to class on time, the day only beginning as he had been gone all night. He popped some ibruprofen, swallowing dryly and forcing the pills down. Sully glanced at his watch, the watch that Hiccup had made for him to match his own, the golden dragon inside moving around and hissing at him. Sully, like the students running around the grounds to try and make it to class, were late.