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* Angel, having been bandaged and medicated and bathed and otherwise tended to, has fallen into a fitful, restless doze, his head cushioned against his wife's shoulder. * Jewel lies awake long after he's fallen asleep, sitting up slightly in bed the better to cradle his head against her, stroking his back tenderly. * Jewel sighs and closes her eyes, her thoughts reaching out delicately to his, not probing but simply seeking the comfort of touch. <Angel> ::a flicker of dreaming passes through him, memory. his muscles start to tense against remembered pain:: * Jewel slides her arms around his shoulders protectively, averting her mental "eyes" from anything he might not be comfortable with her seeing. * Jewel relaxes a bit as he seems to settle again, gently expanding her consciousness in his like a cat stretching before settling down to a nap. * Jewel frowns as something in the familiar territory strikes a... wrong note and takes a closer look, treading gently so as not to disturb her sleeping husband. * Jewel muffles a sense of growing anger as she detects traces of Another in his head. * Angel twitches against her, his breathing speeding slightly and a mist of perspiration forming under the bandage wrapped around his head wound. * Jewel sends one hand groping towards her nightstand, letting her fingers curl around her pearl pendant. The smooth, familiar curve helps her reestablish a modicum of control, and she clamps down hard on her emotions as she tracks the unfamiliar trace through Bastian's thoughts, trying to root out everywhere the Other might have been. <Angel> ::an image flashes, briefly - memory or dream - of a older man, wielding a whip with brutal efficiency. Behind, a girl - just on the cusp of adulthood - leaning heavily against the wall, her skin slightly green with nausea, her face set in a familiar pattern of intense concentration:: * Jewel holds on to the image as long as she can, studying the girl's features, memorizing her face. Her anger tightens into a hard, icy knot around her heart. Without conscious thought, her hand reaches for the place low on her thigh where she kept Bastian's knife when she had it-- the same place that he wears it. * Jewel's attention is caught by another image-- the idea of a scrap of paper carelessly folded and dropped on the "floor." Frowning deeper, she reaches for it, wrapping a protective wall of her will around her and Bastian before "opening" it. <Angel> ::a whirl of images assaults Jewel - stylized and rigid, as if the "writer" of the note had not much practice at this sort of thing. The first coherent image Jewel gets is that of the girl, plainly dressed and wearing the Infinity symbol around her neck:: * Jewel narrows her eyes, inspecting the messenger coldly. <Angel> ::she isn't very old, perhaps three years younger than Jewel, with sharp, angular cheekbones and wide eyes. Along the side of her neck is an old scar - a mark against demons, branded on those convicted of trafficking with infernals. Her image of herself shows hands open and spread:: * Jewel notes the brand and her lip curls in disgust-- whether at the girl, or the ones who marked her, it's uncertain. <Angel> ::another image, of barely escaping a mob with stones, then a final look back - a young boy, away from the crowd, his hands empty. Briefly, a single, concealed, wave:: <Jewel> ::clenching her teeth and whispering:: You will *not* make me pity you, girl. <Angel> ::a whirl, as if the wind had blown. The same boy, older now. Held behind bars, desperately thin. Outside, the girl, her face averted, listens to a black-haired woman wearing the uniform of the Dragons. Another whirl, Angel in his cell, the woman pointing at him, adamant:: * Jewel narrows her eyes again, studying the woman. "Vander." (It's amazing how much a word without any sibilants can sound like a hiss.) <Angel> ::the girl again, her face anguished, her hands spread. She shakes her head sadly, then mouths a single word. "Sorry.":: * Jewel makes a noise of frustration, snatching the image from the air and crumpling up the "note," throwing the little ball of paper away from her. She clamps down on her emotions again as Bastian stirs uneasily in his sleep, and gently disengages herself from his mind. * Angel stirs slightly, reaching out a hand. When he finds Jewel, he pats her arm gently, as if soothing her from troubled sleep. * Jewel stares into the darkness for several minutes, one hand restlessly stroking Bastian's back. She chews on her lip, hot tears brimming her eyes. * Jewel sighs at last and, veeeery slowly and quietly, slides out from beneath Bastian's head, substituting a squooshy stuffed bear from her side of the bed. She gets up and strips off her nightgown, tossing a loose shirt over her shoulders and padding silently over to the padded floor of the workout area. Grimly, she seats herself and begins to stretch out. |
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