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[hr][hr][right][code]Home[/code][/right][hr]
Home was a little cold. Casey spent a little while lighting a fire, the little stove connecting to a boiler outside that provided some extra heat thanks to radiator baseboards. The boiling hot steam would circulate and heat up the plates, and within an hour the house was warm again. Warm enough that the lights could be dimmed, and the two could properly retire into one another’s arms. 

Rather than the bed, Casey brought their pillows and blankets into their den to lay them out on the big comfortable couch they’d gotten themselves. The two of them mutually expressed that there was energy left to spend, and Casey hoped that some mindless television and cuddling on the bed-like couch would put them to sleep.

So, some true-crime reenactment show on thirty minute blocks played ad nauseum, and the two of them quietly held onto one another as the clock eventually ticked across the dateline. The wee hours of the morning, most channels would start with advertisements; long fifteen minute adver-tainment blocks dedicated to shilling a particular product line. But, somehow, this one managed to just keep playing more episodes of the same true crime show over and over like Groundhog’s Day.

Casey had his head practically buried in Trisha’s hair, slow deep breaths leaving his nose as he did his best not to think about anything weird. Not to think about anything but what he thought was going to be interesting, fun and reasonably challenging: The stimulating parts of his new work environment.
But how could he deal with knowing that his Dad was… He couldn’t even think about it. Didn’t want to. Definitely didn’t want to think about the implication that was presented to him in that room. 

The things she’d told him. In confidence. The secrets he couldn’t discuss. Didn’t want to. They weren’t the same, they weren’t one another, and the faith was all…
There were things Casey didn’t want to think about that he couldn’t not think about. Not tonight. So, sleep was a distant desire. Maybe unobtainable. Every fiber of his being railed against the drifting, only letting his body lapse into momentary catnaps. Five minutes here, a few more there where consciousness wasn’t exactly his; but he never stopped hearing the television. Or the occasional hazy comment from Trisha, which ended up in a muffled response that hardly made it back to her.

Trisha was contentedly curled up in Casey's arms, eyes half closed. As soon as they'd gotten home she changed out of the dress into comfier sleeping clothes - once again stealing a sweater of Casey's. Her legs were pulled up and into it, making her a little, curled up ball of fabric lying against him. 
Sleep was also distant for her. After her earlier nap, there was the concern that she'd dream again. Dream, wake up constantly, and have to deal with what she saw. Or she’d have another nightmare, like she had when she last drank. The alcohol was doing the opposite of what it normally did - not quite putting her to sleep, but instead keeping her in a half awake state without ever quite getting there.

But she was comfortable, at least. Not sober enough yet to think about what she'd said, and the consequences of tonight's actions. Just the dreams. Dreams she didn't want to have, so she stayed awake to avoid them. So many strange dreams lately…
She shifted, pressing her face into Casey's chest with a soft grumble. Eyes fully closing for a moment, before opening back up again. 
[color=d1b300]“Still awake?"[/color] she asked softly, quietly in case he was actually asleep. Somehow.

Trisha didn’t get [i]too much[/i] of an answer: With how Casey was pressed into her, one of his arms had fallen asleep and adjustments weren’t going to come easily. So, face in the back of her neck, he replied.
[color=577d06]”Mmmmmyyyyyyr… Wrpphup?”[/color]

Trisha giggled softly at the very muffled response… but it was a response. He was still awake. She didn't say anything for a moment, sleepiness and lingering drunkenness combining to make her both want to ask the question and struggle to form it. He was tired enough too it'd just seem like strange, late night sleep deprived thoughts.
[color=d1b300]“You ever… have dreams that feel real? Like they actually happened?"[/color] As she spoke quietly she awkwardly shifted herself so he might be able to get his face out enough to answer.

Casey actually spared a laugh at her question, his voice leaving his throat as an open giggle. He’d proceeded to crack open another wine bottle when they got home, so at the point they were at, he’d lost a few inhibitors of his own. As she pulled away from him to let him speak, he understood the motion and did so freely.
[color=577d06]”Yeah, Babe. Usually, they’re memories. Or, a bunch of memories jumbled up into a fuckin’... Awful new Chimaera dream. Lots of bombs, and blood. Screaming. Wizards casting crazy spells, and… Yeah. Why?”[/color]

Trisha frowned, uncurling herself from her sweater ball so that she could roll over and properly half lie on top of him, head resting on his chest and tilted up towards him.
[color=d1b300]“That sounds… awful… but not. Not like that. Not [I]my[/I] memories. But it doesn't feel made up. Just, I've been…"[/color] she frowned. How did she explain it without giving too much away - about someone, and something, she didn't want to think about, and the things she'd learned about him.
[color=d1b300]“Having dreams about someone I knew. Before I knew them. They feel like something that actually happened."[/color]

Casey’s half-drunken brow furrowed like it was trying to split his face down the middle. Thankfully in the mostly-dark room, it was hard to see his expression. 
[color=577d06]”Uuhmmm… Is… This a new thing?”[/color] he did his best to not sound troubled by the development. Of course, he was trained to assume that mind fuckery was evidence of magic, like an Inquisitor of old. 

[color=d1b300]“Last few weeks thing,"[/color] Trisha mumbled, making a half shrug motion that Casey would feel more than see. When had it started? When the coven came back together. Then the dream today… but that was unrelated. Not really was she was talking about, since she assumed that was caused by being in the Temple. Probably.
[color=d1b300]“Just strange. I haven't seen them in years. The person. Maybe it's just my imagination… they're so clear but… mmm, forget I said anything."[/color]

The ticker-tape in Casey’s head ground to a halt.
[color=577d06]”Dream… Today?”[/color]
There was, at that moment, a very loud knocking at the front door of the house. It echoed down the short hall and into their room, a commanding and controlled set of four loud and authoritative bangs. He nearly jumped out of his skin.
[color=577d06]”Aw… Aw, fuck, no… [i]Nooooooo[/i]...”[/color] Casey groaned, realizing that his duties may be starting sooner rather than later. [color=577d06]”What could it fucking be at [i]this hour?[/i]”[/color]

He craned his neck down to kiss Trisha on the head before moving to slide her off of him in an attempt to get up.

[color=d1b300]“Noooooo,"[/color] Trisha softly whined, doing the Trisha special - legs and arms wrapping around him fully to cling onto him.
[color=d1b300]“It’s too early…"[/color]

Casey was a little wobbly, especially after having been laying down for so long. So, she was enough to keep him pinned to the couch. His legs flailed, and he started laughing as he tried to unclasp her fingers from around one another.
[color=577d06]”HAH-Ha… B-babe… Baby, I- I gotta… T-trishaaaa!...”[/color] he groaned, finally resorting to tickling her feet to try and get her off him. The knock resounded again, and he spoke again.
[color=577d06]”It’s probably Temple stuff! You don’t wanna-”[/color]

[color=d1b300]“Nooooo,"[/color] Trisha whined again, legs flailing about too, successfully dislodged by the tickling - which was an uncomfortable sensation to someone still drunk as she was. She tried to cling onto him with just her arms, but she was also trying to escape the tickling… she went limp, rolling off with just her hands still clinging onto his shoulders.
[color=d1b300]“Don’t… come back soon… don't leave… just… quick…"[/color]

Casey spun very quickly, reaching his torso down to plant another kiss on Trisha’s forehead. He looked into her eyes before pulling away.
[color=577d06]”I’ll be back as soon as possible, Baby… Sleep. Rest for now.”[/color]

Casey, free of his Trisha-shaped barnacle, finally wobbled to his feet before letting himself slump a little bit into the nearby wall. Taking a deep breath, he crouched slightly and bent his knees until he was squatting in front of the couch. Casey's arm slipped underneath, and there was a gentle rattling sound before he pulled his arm back out.

Trisha would be able to hear a harsh metallic thwacking noise, indicating the chambering of a live round into one of the many guns that Casey had managed to squirrel away in their home already.
His hand reached around, sliding the gun into his waistband under his lower back, then pushed against the wall to keep him stable before he made way out toward the front door.

Trisha’s mouth fell open a little bit at the sound of the gun, pulling the blankets tightly around her. Instead of doing what Casey had said, and resting, she moved to the edge of their massive couch. Her body shifted to the side, leaning over so she could look out the door, silently watching as best as she could. She felt a lot more tense than she should for what was probably just Temple business.
The alcohol making her more paranoid, maybe.

Trisha would've been able to track Casey around the corner by his footsteps, which bumped across the floor and made slight shifting noises in the wood construction. However, pulling her face around the corner would reveal something far more surprising. 

Casey was gone. In the time it took Trisha to shift, Casey had somehow completely disappeared down the very short hall and managed to vanish. It wasn’t like he was moving around for a lightswitch or anything: His footsteps were gone. The air was cold and still. It was quiet now, in the same unnatural way that the minions of the Stygian Snake would once control the minds of the Sycamites long ago.
And yet, the knock echoed out again. It beckoned, practically begging to be opened.

A shiver ran down Trisha’s spine. Her breathing quickened, a distinctive fear she’d once been used to filling her mind. Silence. Unnatural silence. It tugged at memories she tried to keep buried. If she didn’t actively remember it, she didn’t have to deal with it. Didn’t have to think about the [i]what ifs[/i]. What if the Stygian Snake was still in her mind somehow.

[color=d1b300]“Casey?”[/color] Her voice trembled as she called out, echoing in the otherwise quiet hall. No response. She pushed the blankets off her, bare foot pressing onto the floor as she stood up. Acrid smells started to fill the room… but she couldn’t really sense them. The bees, or the Queen. There was a fuzziness there. A barrier.
Just like it had been with the Stygian Snake.

Trisha didn’t want to open the door, but she found herself moving towards it anyway. She didn’t want to see what was behind it, but not knowing was worse. She bit down hard on her lip, pushing down the panic, as she carefully walked towards the door. And walked. Each step [i]seemed[/i] to bring her closer, but there was still the same distance between them. Like she kept getting teleported back without feeling it. Breathing got a little harder. It was so quiet. She wasn’t getting anywhere. She should go back, hide in the covers, hope this would go away. 

Maybe it was just a dream. Hugging herself, trembling, Trisha turned around. 

Turning on her heel, Trisha found herself looking out at the dark skyline of St. Portwell’s harbor district. There were no lights. The moon was on the horizon, looming over the ocean like it was invading Earth’s personal space. Like it was trying to look down on and stare at Trisha.
The wind blew hard, nearly pushing her off the edge she was standing on. Somehow, the building around her had completely disappeared to leave her on the roof’s safety lip. With bare feet, her toes hung just over the side, curling over the brick to grip as best she could.

[color=8442f5]”It’s a cold night to be out with no shoes, Patricia.”[/color]
The voice came from over the edge below her, but looking down was pure darkness. Like nothing existed but dense, black fog.
There was a scream. It echoed across the rooftop unabated, the sound of a man in pure terror. Maybe even pain.
[color=8442f5]”Rowdy… Always has been.”[/color]

It was difficult to breathe, or to think, as the scream seemed to echo in her ears, turning into a crunching static. She was going to fall- would falling be so bad- she had to get away from the edge. She couldn’t keep looking over, couldn’t look at the darkness. It was too similar. It was all too familiar, yet not, and it was horrible. 
[color=d1b300]“What- what- let us go. Let [i]him[/i] go.”[/color] She tried not to sound terrified, lost, alone without those comforting, constant pheromones hanging in the air around her. Without Casey. Casey, who’d disappeared, who was in danger too. All alone. Completely, and utterly, alone. 

[color=d1b300]“Go. Away.”[/color] As she spoke she stepped back, away from the edge. Away from falling, away from [i]it[/i], whatever it was.

Falling backward toward safety was really falling backward into a pit. The tiny edge that Trisha had been standing on was no more attached to a roof than anything else as the master of the illusion pulled the rug out from under Trisha.
It was a long fall, long enough to understand one wasn’t going to make it on impact. One that an individual could take a lot of last breaths in. A weaker heart may panic, burst within the chest cavity from the stress and fear. Enough time to kiss yourself goodbye.

It was a substantial impact that landed Trisha  on the floor of their living room. Enough to knock the wind out of her. 
Reality shimmered across Trisha’s field of view, the blow rattling her mind enough to shake the illusion. To let her know that things weren’t over, no matter how badly she wanted them to be. Thumping steps didn’t echo so much as they rumbled across the floor. 
[color=8442f5]”Patriciaaaa… You are [i]so full of it.[/i]  Panic, fear: Your weakness, the fat and bloated petulance within… I can’t wait for them to fatten you up more. To drive all that anxiety, your woes, to the surface. Like a ruptured sore, for me to devour you from.”[/color]

Trisha bit down on a pained groan, squinting her eyes and choosing not to look up. She didn’t want to see. She was almost sad the fall hadn’t ended her suffering… whatever this was. A hallucination. A magical hallucination she was trapped in. She wanted out. How did she get out?
[color=d1b300]“I’m- I’m not,”[/color] she gritted out, fingers pressing into the floor to try and push herself up, body tensing up. 
[color=d1b300]“I’m not weak, I don’t have any anxieties, I’m normal. I’m fucking normal. You don’t know me.”[/color]

[color=8442f5]”Oh my aching, ancient bones… [i]Normal?[/i] Scared [i]and[/i] stupid. Come, Patrica: We will see how [i]normal[/i] you really are.”[/color]
There was a warm, furry feeling that shoved Trisha back into the floor, then forced her past it. Past the reality around her altogether, and into a fresh hell for Trisha to remember in all its vivid pain.

She was standing again. The pain was dulled, just like how she sensed the bees - there, but inaccessible. Her surroundings were bright but cold. A modern, well put together living room that didn’t feel like anyone lived in it at all. 

Her mother’s home. It wasn’t just the place she recognised. It was the timing too - where she was standing, just to the side of the main couch. Looking at her feet. Light sneakers, bare legs. A moderate temperature. Summer three years ago.

The last time she saw her mom.

Against her will, her gaze shifted upwards, to the woman sitting on the couch. [url=https://i.imgur.com/LiKOSZ3.jpeg]Maria Mendoza[/url] managed to look relaxed even with her perfect posture, hazel eyes much like Trisha’s piercing into her. They were so cold. There wasn’t a hint of love there - even a sliver of affection towards her daughter. It was a look she was familiar with, one that made her feel like she was drowning. Disappointment. The only thing she could make her mom feel. What she was.
[color=766359]”Is this [i]really[/i] the best you can do, Patricia?”[/color]

[color=d1b300]It is, I can’t do any better, I can’t do anything-[/color]
[color=d1b300]“No,”[/color] Trisha found herself saying sullenly, just like she had three years ago. As if she was in her body without being there, forced to observe something she’d not allowed herself to remember or think about.

[color=766359]”Really? If you can do better, why don’t you? Every year you do worse. Why do a degree you can’t even understand the basics of? You-”[/color]

[color=d1b300]“I understand the basics just fine!” Stop. “Maybe if you helped me! Every-”[/color]

[color=766359]”Patricia.”[/color] Maria cut her off with a sigh. Uncaring, almost. She waved a hand dismissively. 
[color=766359]”I’m not going to waste my time helping you at something you’ll never succeed in. You never have. You just disappoint me more everytime I see you. Did you even try?”[/color]

[color=d1b300]Try? Of course I tried, but it was never enough, it was never fucking enough.[/color]
[color=d1b300]“I did, I studied as hard as I could! I barely slept. Just like I did in school. I never stopped studying, but you never care. I work [i]so[/i] hard. You just don’t care!”[/color]

[color=766359]”Do [i]not[/i] take that tone with me,”[/color] Maria’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her face was otherwise the same. Cold. Detached. Disappointed. 
[color=766359]”If you had really tried, you would have succeeded. You’re too lazy to try, and too stupid to understand that you’re the only one to blame. If you spent less time trying to be like your father and more time studying, your grades wouldn’t be like this. You’ve always been a failure, but this time you really outdid yourself.”[/color]

[color=d1b300]It wasn’t my fault. I tried, I really did… I don’t want to hear this again…[/color]
[color=d1b300]“I’m nothing like dad!”[/color]

[color=766359]”That’s true.”[/color] Maria’s lips curved upwards slightly, a disdainful smile. 
[color=766359]”Your father, horrible man that he was, at least had a working brain. You do not. I don’t see the point in continuing this conversation. Every year, I give you another chance, and every year you disappoint me again. Get out.”[/color]

[color=d1b300]No, no, no, don’t abandon me, don’t kick me out, don’t leave me-[/color]
[color=d1b300]“What? But my flight isn’t until tomorrow. I’m not leaving! You can’t just tell me to leave. You can’t. I’m not going anywhere. You’re- you’re a terrible mother!”[/color]

[color=766359]”I’ve done everything I could for you,”[/color] Maria laughed coldly, hand raising to point to the door. 
[color=766359]”Leave. You can come back when you’ve finally improved yourself. I don’t want a daughter like you.”[/color]

[color=d1b300]No, I don’t want to, don’t throw me away, please- please, love me, I’ll do anything, mom, please, just love me-[/color] 
[color=d1b300]“Fine! I don’t want a mother like you either. I hate you- I hate you more than dad. Goodbye, [i]Maria[/i].”[/color] 

No matter how much Trisha wanted to change it, she couldn’t, and her mother disappeared from her view as the younger her stormed towards the door. She opened it and… then she was falling again.


This time, when she hit the floor on her back again, it was real. And there was something underneath her that screamed out in pain as she landed on it.
[color=577d06][b]”Oh GOD MY FUCKING RIBS-”[/b][/color]
Chuckling and laughing, two voices both welled up with humor as Casey scrambled in a frantic fashion to get out from under Trisha.

[color=f0a278]”Casey’s brain is broken. We don’t need to remind him anymore.”[/color] [color=7888f0]”But Patricia’s stubborn! Stupid! Casey? Leave her! For her own good!”[/color]

The front door was wide open. Kane and Abel, the cats from the basement, were both staring at the two people in the middle of the floor, eyes squinted in that calm pleasure.

[color=f0a278]”Ward all you like. You’ll live knowing that I’m waiting.”[/color] 
[color=7888f0]”Waiting for the fruit to ripen. To pluck your pain again. And again. And again.”[/color]
[color=f0a278]”This is the deal.”[/color]
[color=7888f0]”The pact! You know now… You know!”[/color]

Where Trisha had landed, atop Casey as she had, there was the silhouette of a gun lying just beyond Casey’s reach. He was moaning, gasping for breath. His hands were struggling, clearly not thinking about the gun.

Trisha awkwardly rolled to the side to get off Casey, landing with a painful thump on her front beside him. But the physical pain wasn’t anything in comparison to the mental pain, screeching words constantly repeating in her mind. [i]Stupid, failure, leave.[/i] [color=d1b300]Panic, need to get out, get rid of them- the bees, no, not the bees, connection too fuzzy.[/color] 

She pulled herself forward, grabbing the gun where it lay. In a split second decision, fueled only by panic, she held it out in front of her, tilted it towards the cats, and pulled the trigger.
A terribly aimed shot.

The shot rang out into the cold St. Portwell night. Where once two cats sat in menacing confidence, nothing remained. Only the open door, and Casey’s struggling, pained gasping.
[color=577d06]”F-f-fuck! Fuck, fuck!”[/color]
He tried to crawl forward, tried to reach out to Trisha to pull the gun away, to make sure she was alright… But he sputtered. Only his arm shot out to grab her sleeve.
[color=577d06]”H-hurt bad! D-down… Norm! Norm!”[/color] He pleaded to Trisha between gasps.

Trisha dropped the gun - her hands barely off the ground, so it wasn’t much different to putting it down. She pushed herself to her knees, head turning to look at Casey with wide eyes. She just stared. He was hurt so badly, what had they done to him- what was that- [i]don’t leave, don’t leave[/i]- She nodded silently. Her trembling hand reached out for his grasping her sleeve, curling around it to detach it, gently squeezing as if that would give either of them some kind of comfort. Then she managed to push herself to her feet. 

It hurt, but nothing was broken. Like she’d… fallen from far too high twice. She had. It hurt, but she pushed through it, limping out the front door. Across the roof. Through the other door, down the stairs. Into the corridor. She stopped at the end, leaning against the wall with a pained gasp. Forcing air into her lungs, out. She just had to… to the security office… No, just call. Talk.
[color=d1b300]“N-Norm!”[/color]

Norm, his long hair wet around his head, stuck himself out of the door of the security office. His lithe frame pushed around it as well, both hands on the doorframe ready to rush.
[color=4a6358]”Trisha!? What!?”[/color] he asked, grave concern in his voice.

[color=d1b300]“Casey’s hurt,”[/color] Trisha pointed behind her, as if he needed to know where their apartment was. Her hand still shook, but she tried to suppress it - tried to look like she was perfectly fine in front of someone she barely knew and didn’t want to show weakness in front of. 
[color=d1b300]“Really badly. Please help.”[/color]

[color=4a6358]”No, no fuckin’ way! What do you mean he’s hurt really badly, what the fuck?”[/color]
He pushed out of the office one hundred percent naked, and he quickly bound across the hall into one of the storage rooms before coming back out with a green pack of what looked like jelly. Pushing past her, it was clear that he was also channeling a spell. The air around them was getting dense, thick and cool.

As he walked, a sheet of ice froze over his dignity to spare Trisha the shame. 
[color=4a6358]”The fuck am I running into!?”[/color]

[color=d1b300]“Nothing, it’s gone,”[/color] Trisha pushed herself off the wall to follow Norm, at a distance, not wanting to stay and wait down here. She had to see Casey get better - had to see that he was still here, that this was actually real. That they were- it was- gone.
[color=d1b300]“The- the cats. It was the cats.”[/color] She didn’t know if he even [i]knew[/i] about the cats, but how else could she explain it?

[color=4a6358]”Oh, you’re dickin’ me! Leon, I swear to God, man… How did I not know, there weren’t any fuckin’ sensors!”[/color]
He took off into a sprint up the stairs. Ice blocks formed in brief lives, surging him up the stairs at a rate faster than he would’ve been able to just taking the stairs. It left Trisha in the dust, or more to say in the water, as the ice melted away instantly into the tile coating on the floor.

Before she could get down the hall fully, there was a laugh that echoed from behind Trisha.
[color=8442f5]”From here on? It’s your fault.”[/color]

Trisha spun around, but there was nothing there. Just an empty, dimly lit hall. She shook her head. Of course. It was always her fault… always… everything… Her chest clenched, and clasped her hands together in front of her, nails digging painfully into her skin. Dragging her out of the panic that gripped her again. 

Casey. She had to make sure Casey was fine- but what if he did what the cats suggested? Left her. No, no, that wouldn’t happen- [color=d1b300]Why not, everyone else has.[/color] Better a moment’s comfort than staying here alone. She made her way back up the stairs, hardly caring about her feet getting wet. Barely felt it. Walking back the way she came without really seeing where she was going, hesitating in the doorway. Panic rising, but she had to put on a brave face, pretend it didn’t affect her.
[color=d1b300]“Casey, a-are you alright now?”[/color]

Norm was bent over Casey, one hand stuffed in his mouth as he tried to squirt the packet of fluid into Casey’s unconscious throat.
[color=4a6358]”He’s still breathin’, Trisha… Just give the Serum a minute…”[/color]
He’d pulled Casey over to lay on his back, and it looked pretty bad. The shirt he was wearing was torn open in the front like he’d been hit by a cannonball. There wasn’t a clean hole, rather a wide and almost bite-like gash went up his gut and into his chest.

The last of the paste squirted out of the tube, and Norm was free to pull away in order to massage Casey’s throat. He was still soaking wet, and frost was building up all across his body. Mostly at his ears, which froze a good deal of hair to the side of his head like a helmet.
[color=4a6358]”These fucking Cats… Leon’s gonna owe Casey big time for this, Trisha: Furio told him a year ago that they shouldn’t be kept here in the building. That they were gonna hurt people!”[/color] he snapped, half choking Casey as he tried to force the liquid down his throat further. 

His chest was heaving, but as the moments went by, the wound was rapidly stitching itself together. 

Trisha flinched as Norm got more heated, even though she knew it wasn’t directed at her - but it was difficult not to, after everything she’d been forced to see, and what she’d heard at the end. She forced herself away from the door, shakily moving over to Norm and Casey. She sank to her knees beside him, reaching out to take one of Casey’s hands. She couldn’t tell if it was cold, or hers was.
[color=d1b300]“He’s too busy having sex right now to care,”[/color] she said, irritation crawling up beside the anxiety. If Leon had the Cats in his apartment, he should keep them there. Her grip on Casey’s hand tightened and she looked down at him, at his face, avoiding looking at the wounds.

[color=d1b300]“How long will it take for him to wake up?”[/color] 

[color=4a6358]”Not long… God broke the mold with these fuckin’ people.”[/color] Norm replied confidently.
Norm held out his free hand to Trisha.
[color=4a6358]”Gimmie your hand, just sit here and rub his throat. I need your house line…”[/color]

He put Trisha’s hand into the spot he wanted her to tend to, then stood up to make for the house phone that Casey insisted on keeping. It was an external line, but more importantly it had the internal security line built into the building. Norm had one in his apartment, Theo had one, and Leon had one. 
[color=4a6358]”Theo? Go pound on Leon’s fucking door. Wake him up. -... Wake him the fuck up! I’m upstairs, I’ve got Casey half fucking dead on the floor, Trisha’s in horror, you need to fucking wake Leon up and ask him why the Cats aren’t in the basement. Leon, Mia, I don’t care, wake someone the fuck up!”[/color]

As Norm was speaking, Casey was coming back into reality. The reality of the searing pain. The reality of what happened. He felt a gentle hand around his throat, and his first instinct was to grab it and snap the wrist it was attached to.
But it was [i]her.[/i] Her hand on his neck. Massaging him… The keylime… 

Through the pain, Casey looked up at Trisha and smiled warmly.
[color=577d06]”Oh… You… Did it…”[/color] he cooed, smiling widely.

Trisha wasn’t sure what he was talking about, was confused why he was smiling. He’d almost died, surely it must still hurt. She shook her head, eyes squeezing shut for a moment to push back tears- of relief, maybe- before they could fall. She didn’t want to cry.
[color=d1b300]“What do you… It’s gone, you’re alright, can you- swallow the rest yourself?”[/color] She asked softly, hand still resting on his throat. It took a lot not to just curl into him, and let the panic take over. She was trying really hard to appear fine, even though her voice was shaking- her whole body was shaking- and she was visibly paler than normal. 

[color=d1b300]“You’re… not dead.”[/color] Just in case he, somehow, thought that was the case.

Casey knew he wasn’t dead. He started laughing when she said that, both his hands reaching up weakly to touch her face. It ripped the newly forming flesh, causing bleeding that instantly repaired again until it was strong enough to hold tight.
[color=577d06]”You… Shot the gun. You got the help. I’m not… Dead.”[/color] he grinned up at her.
[color=577d06]”I’m s-sorry… L-lots of w-w-work to do t-today… To protect us.”[/color] 

Trisha shook her head again, leaning forward to press her face more against his hands. Her own hands moved to his wrists, gently curling around them. She tried to smile back at him, but it was difficult. There was that voice in the back of her head now, morphing together her own with her moms - it had always been there, really, but it was louder. She hadn’t done anything. Couldn’t do anything. 
[color=d1b300]“It’s okay,”[/color] she whispered. Because he said protect [i]us[/i]. That meant he wasn’t leaving her to protect her, he was staying with her, but then-

[color=d1b300]“[i]I’m[/i] sorry.”[/color] It was barely a whisper, difficult to make out without reading her lips. Not sorry for the past, but for the future. For everything that was going to be her fault.
[color=d1b300]“I’m just glad you’re alright. I was so worried… when you disappeared… when I heard you scream… then- then I landed on you, hurt you more. I’m so glad…”[/color]

[color=577d06]”Hey… You did what… I asked. What needed to be… done.”[/color]
Casey’s breathing had been extremely ragged and pained, but it was starting to smooth out.
[color=577d06]”No crying… No more. Tonight sucked except for y-you. S-so, smi-le.”[/color]

The ice-man made his way back to Trisha and Casey, squatting down with his ice shorts on.
[color=4a6358]”Boss? Are we filing any forms?”[/color] he asked simply, looking down at Casey. 
The initial response was a laugh, then he shook his head, prompting Norm to get back up again.
[color=4a6358]”Trisha? Can I get you anything, Ma’am?”[/color] he asked, adding the honorific at the end as if she was in some kind of position above him.

[color=d1b300]“I’m fine,”[/color] she lied instinctively. It wasn’t like she was dying. It wasn’t anything bad enough to need magical healing food, or to make someone go back down and up those stairs again. Her back hurt the most, and she was sure there'd be some nasty bruising there but… nothing was broken. It wasn't that bad. 
[color=d1b300]“It’s alright, thanks, Norm.”[/color]

She looked up at him for just a moment, before looking down at Casey again, managing a smile now. A weak one, but a smile nonetheless. What she actually wanted was some time just with him… but she also wanted to curl up in a corner alone, to shut down and suppress everything again. Both couldn’t happen. She wanted to… be with him more.
[color=d1b300]“You don’t have to go… work now because of this, do you? Not right now?”[/color] Her hands holding onto him gripped tighter, as if somehow she'd let go and he'd just walk out the door when he could still barely move.

As his wounds were healing, stitching themselves together in the open air, Casey took another deep breath. As deep as he could.
[color=577d06]”I g-gotta do s-ome-thing.”[/color] his grunted reply came from between his teeth as he held onto Trisha’s hand and tried to pull himself up.
Air pushed out from between his teeth before he groaned and laid back in the spot he’d been in. It was too raw, and as he looked down he could see the magical process rejecting little bits of debris alongside the Wampus Cat’s impotent venom.

Feeling the latter welling up in his mouth to spit out, he turned his head.
[color=577d06]”Norm!? Bu-cket!”[/color]
Deftly, Norm spun from where he was and slid on his icy knees right up to Casey. Opposite Trisha, she’d be able to watch his hands form a wide-mouthed bowl of ice almost instantly. Casey’s head turned a bit more, and he wretched a wad of pearlescent goop into the frozen vessel.
[color=577d06]”Fucking… They didn’t… I should’ve warded the place, Trisha.”[/color] he lamented, turning his head back toward her.
[color=577d06]”So, I w-won’t le-eave. I have to… Secure our home. Better.”[/color]

Trisha grimaced when Casey threw up… whatever that was. She couldn't tell. Something magical, less gross than normal vomit would've been but probably scarier when she didn't know what it was. He was recovering, it was fine, it was just slow. He wasn't leaving.
[color=d1b300]“Don’t push yourself,"[/color] she said softly, trying to suppress the panic she was still feeling over the whole thing, still gripping onto his hand. She leaned forward over him so that her face was closer to his, long, messy hair falling over him. Closer it was more obvious that she was still suppressing tears even as she tried to smile, a redness in her eyes that disappeared only when she closed them for a moment. Closing them, of course, was a mistake - because it just flashed her back to all the places she didn't want to be.

So she opened them again to look at Casey.
[color=d1b300]“Ok, if you're not leaving, securing our home more is good, you can do that here, I can stay with you- will wards really keep them away? They-"[/color] she shook her head, grimacing. [color=d1b300]“I couldn't tell what was real, but if they could transport us around like that… unless that was all an illusion. Not that- they hurt you worse, I don't want them to get to you again. Let me help. I can't do anything with the warding but you can lean on me until you feel better."[/color]

Casey couldn’t help but laugh at Trisha’s absolute dedication to the moment. He couldn’t blame her for being horrified.
[color=577d06]”They don’t move you. They move your mind, and your body does what it wants. Emotional Fields-”[/color] 
The magical muscle recovery started to remake the nerves. It was the most painful part, the open air stinging them with every little bit of dust hanging in the air. He winced, grimacing in pain as it stole his breath.

Norm cleared his throat.
[color=4a6358]”You got this, Big Guy. You’ve been through worse.”[/color]
Casey wordlessly nodded, holding onto Trisha’s hand still and turning up his lips despite the tears in his eyes.
[color=577d06]”Wards w-won’t s-top forever… S’fucking… Cat and Mouse!”[/color]

He started to laugh, balled himself up and started moaning out in pain some more. He thought that he probably deserved it for the pun, but that’s how you got through the awful things. 
How he did, at least.
[color=577d06]”B-but… I’ll m-make you something. Personal s-safet-y.”[/color]

Norm got up again, encasing the venomous elixir produced by its reaction with Casey’s stomach bile in a thick vial of ice that he then stuck under his arm for safe keeping. It froze directly to him.
[color=4a6358]”I’m gonna go store this and finish drying off. Come down when you’re ready, it’s your shift when you say it is.”[/color]
Casey nodded at him, and in turn he began to walk away. Not before taking the gun Trisha had dropped earlier and moving to hand it back to her. It had a little frost on the barrel where he held it.

[color=4a6358]”Always keep yourself safe, Trisha. Good job.”[/color]
And then he was gone, leaving them alone as Casey’s epidermis  slowly spanned the gaps to finally leave him protected and whole once again. He was mostly silent now, and had his head in Trisha’s lap for a little comfort.

[color=577d06]”I f-feel like I’ve been… Saying sorry a lot.”[/color] he spoke, half muffled by her thigh.

Trisha was trying very hard to stay still, suppressing the trembling that threatened to take over her whole body. At the same time, she was sending out calming pheromones now that she could properly sense the bees, stopping them from all swarming her as soon as they realised where she was. She'd deal with them later… the gun that Norm had handed her was placed back on the floor beside her. It wasn't like she knew how to use it. 

[color=d1b300]“You have been, but at least you know how to say it,"[/color] she said quietly, one hand gently running through his hair while the other rubbed his back. She was careful, just in case it still hurt after the healing. He'd been so hurt, and the healing had looked so painful… but she also couldn't keep her hands to herself, because she needed to confirm he was there. Alive, real, having not left. 
[color=d1b300]“These weren't the sleepless nights I expected to have with you,"[/color] she managed to joke. She didn't exactly feel tired anymore, even when she'd barely slept the night before and the strange, dream filled nap hadn't exactly helped.

She leaned forward to press a gentle kiss against his cheek, before resting her face against his for a moment. It helped. She could push back the memories, the fears and anxieties of various kinds- [I]your mother still abandoned you, everyone will[/I]- she could ignore it. Suppress it like always. She took a shaky breath, pulling back slightly to talk again.
[color=d1b300]“Why did they only attack you? They just showed me things.“[/color] Describing it as things was massively downplaying it. But how could it be as bad as nearly dying? If her worst memory was just that- [color=d1b300]it isn't, not, it's definitely the worst-[/color] then it was nothing. She could handle it just fine. Sure, it had also reminded her of the Stygian Snake, but she wasn't that badly affected either.
[color=d1b300]“I’m really glad you're alright."[/color]

[color=577d06]”I’m glad you’re alright too…”[/color]
Casey wasn’t ignoring her question, so much as he was trying to figure that out himself. Not right now, but… Forever. Trying to justify the childhood he spent avoiding home as much as possible. Avoiding all the strangeness and the weird shit, and now he was back… And the pain was back too. It wasn’t intentional; who wanted that? Not that all the desert hikes and rock climbing and starvation and blood and mud and-

[color=577d06][i]I’m not a masochist. I’m a soldier. I did what I was asked; nay, what I was told.[/i][/color]

He finally sat up, feeling the telltale aching of Andrade’s famous Key Lime Pie finishing its work and leaving the body in a plume of heat. 
[color=577d06]”And, to answer your question? They just don’t fuckin’ like me. I don’t know what it is. Maybe they think I’m a runt, or that I’m an easy target still. I guess I am… Motherfuckers…”[/color]
He felt a rage about the whole situation as his senses fully came back to him. He wasn’t praying to stay alive; Trisha’s actions had saved his life surely. The Wampus came on strong after all the years of withholding the wrath. Maybe they wanted to show him that they could still hurt him.

[color=577d06]”So we’ll fix that. It may not be pretty, but I’ve learned a trick or two. And we can call someone else in for some help.”[/color] he nodded.
He looked at Trisha, a soft smile coming over his face.
[color=577d06]”What’d they show you, Trisha?…”[/color] Casey asked as calmly as he could. He had to know… In case it was sensitive information. Anything she shouldn’t know, she’d have to agree to getting rid of… There was no other way to keep the agreement…


There it was, the question she didn't really want to answer, but had known was going to come anyway. 
[color=d1b300]“Emptiness, like when the Stygian Snake and its minions tried to get into our minds. Darkness, too. They said a few things. Called you rowdy, said that I was scared. They were just trying to make me anxious-" And they'd succeeded. “There was a lot of falling. Darkness, silence, and falling.”[/color]

She looked away from him, biting her lip, hands falling into her lap now that he wasn't lying on it and nails digging into her thighs. She didn't want to- couldn't- bring up the memory. How would he react? Disappointment, maybe, or maybe he'd just laugh, brush it off. She should brush it off. It wasn't like her mom had cut off contact then. She'd called her one more time since, when she graduated. It didn't make her a failure- [I]it definitely did[/I]- and it hadn't been her fault. None of it had been. There was just no point in bringing it up.
[color=d1b300]“They didn't really get to me. It was just a lot like with the Stygian Snake."[/color]

[color=577d06]”And there wasn’t anything about the Temple? Nothing you feel like you shouldn’t know?”[/color] he asked, twisting his body and wincing at the still-fresh nerves tugging against themselves. But he managed to look her dead in the eyes, trying to use every bit of his raw White Lux to make sure she was telling the truth. 

[color=d1b300]“No,"[/color] Trisha answered honestly, though her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together into a thin line. She didn't look away this time, but there was a clear withdrawal in her eyes. Whatever she'd been feeling to look away and tried to hide was gone, covered by a gauze of annoyance, all the other emotions gone. 
[color=d1b300]“Nothing about the Temple. Don't worry."[/color]

Because of course, that was what was important. Keeping the Temple secrets. He didn't actually care about what she'd seen, did he? That was fine anyway, she didn't want anyone to know. She hadn't seen much. She was fine, why would anyone be concerned anyway? She didn't want that. 
[color=d1b300]“I didn't see anything important at all."[/color]

Casey’s hand slowly climbed to her face. She was definitely lying. Lying so much, he couldn’t actually tell if she’d seen anything, or if it was all just blending together. He gave her a gentle smile. She seemed sincere enough at the beginning that he didn’t think she’d acquired anything important, but now he was left with the stinging idea that something really had happened.

[color=577d06]”They like to dredge things up. Make you remember how you felt at your lowest so they can feed on the despair. It’s a game for them… So, I assume that if they’re not feeding you information, then they’re torturing you. Just like they did to all of us as kids. If it’s something… Y’know, from… The days with the Snake? You can talk to me. I may not’ve been there, but I have seen what magical warfare looks like. I’m here…”[/color] he cooed, looking at her with a soft longing. He wanted her: but the real her. Whatever she was carrying, he’d hold. He wanted to show her that.

If it was something from the Snake days, maybe it'd be easier to talk to him about it. That wasn't unique to her. Parts of it, sure, memories she was glad the cats hadn't dragged up. But it wasn't even that. What was she supposed to say? 'I'm so much of a failure my own mother abandoned me.’ No. She couldn't. 
Maybe she could make something up. Right. Something from the Stygian Snake days, something bad but not too bad… Her lowest then, that was when- 

No, not that either. 
[color=d1b300]“It wasn't much,"[/color] she started, unaware that he was using any White Lux on her - she wasn't so aware of her emotional field, and the Queen was still asleep. Somehow. 
[color=d1b300]“Just, a few times when I got hurt badly. Fighting Apparitions that my bees couldn't really handle. I normally just bolstered others with my pheromones so they didn't feel as scared. But sometimes there wasn't enough of us. I saw the time… I got the scar on my hips. There was only a few of us, and it was hell hounds. One of the people with us was scared of them, so I had to actually try and fight. They killed a lot of my bees. That- that hurt more than anything else. I couldn't protect them."[/color]

The story itself was a true one, but it was a lie that she'd seen it. It walked the fine line of what she was willing to share - bad enough to seem like a low moment without showing how much she [I]failed[/I]. She didn't speak like someone talking about a traumatic event. She'd suppressed it all so much to the point she truly believed she hadn't been affected badly by it. 
She just didn't want Casey to know how little she had. How [color=766359]worthless and useless[/color] she really was.

He knew that helping her wasn’t going to be easy. He could barely help himself. All he could really do was pull her close, onto his lap. His filthy, bloody, shredded clothing sat beneath her as he held her close to him. He rubbed her back, taking deep breaths. 
[color=577d06]”At least they’re safe… I don’t think the cat would go into something Gin made. And in the future, you’ll be ready too; so you don’t need to worry anymore. We’ll work on it.”[/color]