[Jamie takes a deep breath, finds a wall to focus on for a moment. Why can’t he make anything better? Why can’t he save anyone? Why is he so powerless? Can’t save Aaron. Can’t save Heather. And her.]
I’ll never.. really understand what you went through. Or understand your pain. But I.. Carmen if there’s anything I can ever do for you. Let me know.
[Fear is the last thing in Jamie’s mind. It’s a mixture of wanting to pull her close, and wanting to grab God by the throat and inform him that this isn’t alright. And that he should really get this Biblical mess sorted on his own plane. And Michael’s almost certain that Jamie is going to be his ruin.]
Another angel? Well there’s a good number of us now.. I mean. What. Seven sins and virtues that’d make fourteen. Do you know what side this one is on? Not that I really like thinking of it as sides..
I’m glad you’re not dead.
[Though a moment later he wonders if that was the wrong thing to say. It’s not like this is going to suddenly be all better for her..]
[It kind of was the wrong thing to say, but she’s thinking it too. Sort of. Broken memories, a mind barely whole enough to function, she almost wonders if it would be better if she were dead. But that’s neither here nor there.]
Thank you, Jamie.
[And she means it, she’s more grateful than she can say. Here she is, chronologically thirty-six but stopped aging at thirty, being given the most sincere offer of help she’s ever had by a kid, he looks barely out of college, with an Archangel in his head.]
And yeah, there are a lot of angels. But this one in particular, He keeps going on about loyalty? I don’t think this angel’s been around in a really, really long time.
[The name’s on the tip of her tongue, like a phone number or the name of a long-forgotten friend, because oh yeah let’s not forget that the memory isn’t hers.
But it comes to her. her eyes snap open and she looks up, at what is beyond her to know.]
[To his credit. Jamie isn’t afraid. He doesn’t even seem terribly upset once he’s worked past the revelation. She isn’t Pride. And she isn’t Lucifer. And he’s not Michael. And he’s certainly not the two in the middle. She’s Carmen. And he’s Jamie. And they’re both in a really bad position.]
But.. I don’t know how this works. Their genders.. just gonna.. call him a guy. Yeah. He.. Didn’t seem like he was going to let you out. I knew someone had to be inside like me but.
You didn’t manage to free yourself? Did you?
[Maybe if she did then there was a way to keep Michael at arms length. Maybe he could do it too. And then he remembers his manners.]
It’s really nice to meet you! I mean again, but really for the first time. Cause it was them, and not us last time. So it’s nice to meet you properly.
[Oh, Jamie. Darling, dear sweet Jamie. You’d make her heart break if she had one.]
Yeah, I know. I was kind of in there with… ‘him’ for six years. Stopped watching after a while.
[Change the subject, Carmen. She knows the boy doesn’t need this, he’s here to help her - he’s not as broken as she
is was, but she can tell he understands. And he’s not afraid of her because of Him. Which is …nice.]
No, I didn’t free myself. Well, I guess I sort of did? This name, uh,I guess it’s another angel because He is fixated. I think He must have assumed I was dead and forgot to keep track of me, literally all of His energy is focused on this guy.
And to be fair, I assumed I was dead, too. But apparently I’m not. Because His grip let up, and here I am?
And, uh. It’s nice to meet you, too.
[Jamie just stares at her, unapologetic. It’s rude to stare. It’s rude to just keep on staring in silence. His family would be ashamed of his indecency, his terrible manners. But it takes all that staring for something to finally slide into place. And he just shakes his head. Because that’s not possible.]
You’re.. her aren’t you. But.. how?
[Never mind broken toes. Somehow. Those have lost importance just for the moment. So long as she’s seated.]
[She’s not looking at him, so it doesn’t much matter. She’s still got her head in her hand, as if her neck won’t hold it up anymore. Which. To be fair. Wouldn’t surprise anyone? Given the storm she’s been living with.]
I… yeah. I am.
[Memories are coming back to her in pieces. Mostly she remembers an angel - a soft, beautiful angel telling her she’d been chosen for something larger than herself. She agreed to let him in and never once thought to ask his name. Now here she is, awake, six years of her life gone and gallons of blood staining her pretty fingers.]
I don’t quite know how? I keep, um, I keep getting a name. A name with a face that I’m pretty sure doesn’t match.
[His eyes never leave her, his grip tightening on the bag holding some bandages.]
Well that’s probably.. alright. I’m pretty sure if they were in bad enough shape they wouldn’t stop hurting.
[He hopes. He’s starting to wish he had paid more attention in a health class.]
[He looks himself up and down, as though he might have forgotten something like that.]
No. I can honestly say I haven’t. I mean. I walk to work but I doubt that’d have the same effect. Why?
They don’t stop hurting. But it comes in ebbs and waves, y’know?
[She props her feet up on the chair across from her, elbow on the table and forehead in her hand. If she isn’t just the picture of exhaustion.]
If you know me from before, as my blog certainly implies you do, I’m sure you’ll understand why I’m… feeling things.
[Jamie would be really happy to know that. If he didn’t feel so awful about getting lost. But he supposes the three of them only moved here not that long ago. No one can expect him to know such a city perfectly.
He pauses staring at her though. He can’t quite place it. But he knows he’s seen her somewhere before. Maybe.. in passing. No.]
Oh umm coffee would be wonderful but do you think you really ought to be walking Carmen? With your feet and everything I mean.
The what? [She’s still somewhat distracted by how vividly she feels like she should know this guy.] Oh, oh right, yeah. I kinda stopped feeling them? I mean. They hurt. But not a lot doesn’t, y’know?
[She walks into the kitchen, pops in a k-cup for him, and very pointedly sits down.]
Sorry, Jamie, weird question - you’re not, uh — [abort that question ABORT] have you been tanning recently?
[He’s got this faint glow and there’s a part of her that knows for a fact it’s not human.]
Do I… know you? I have a funny feeling you know what I mean.
…Something like that, I guess.
I’m… I’m sorry.
Well then we’ve.. got a lot to work on. Just try to stay safe. See you soon!
[It’s probably a half hour later. Between getting lost twice (Jamie has a horrific sense of direction and Humilitas may or may not trust this situation and may or may not have intervened) and needed to stop off to get some extra bandages and something proper to drink it makes sense. But there’s a knock on her door.]
Hello! It’s Jamie!
[She wasn’t paying attention to the time. Waiting’s kind of second nature at this point? Except she waits for things that generally don’t happen, so in comparison, Jamie’s kinda speedy.
Carmen gets up to open the door, hobbling slightly as she goes.]
Jamie. Carmen. Hey.
[Another familiar face. God dammit.]
Uh, come on in. D’you want coffee or anything?
Do I… know you? I have a funny feeling you know what I mean.
There’s this… hatred.
I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know who or what it’s directed toward. It’s the most powerful thing I’ve felt. Pure, unadulterated hate. It feels like it’s trying to seep from every cell in my body. But the ‘my body’ it’s seeping from isn’t mine, if that makes sense? Like phantom limb. Uh. Not really, but.
So I curl up in my bathrobe (that I don’t remember buying) and try to contain it.
Kinda cynical all of a sudden? And it’s kinda drowning that shakey sort of fear I had, too.
I don’t know if this is better or worse.
…Wow, who decided giving me a blog was a good idea?