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xp_logsBefore she goes to bed, Jean had one last call to answer - Amanda wakes from her post-major-spell unconsciousness and wants to know that she did okay.
It was the same dream again, the same one she always had after a major working, fire and a cold black sky and a blood-slick knife and the earth opening into Hell, only this time it wasn't herself on the altar, it was Alison, her fair skin smeared with blood, the runes carved not just into skin but into the flesh, the bone... And then there was the demon reaching out with long clawed hands, but it wasn't Amanda it pulled down with it, it was Charlie, and as he was dragged into eternal torment he was screaming at her, that it was all her fault, that she'd messed with things she shouldn't and now other people were paying the price...
Amanda woke with a half-strangled cry, smacking her hand against the metal railing of the hospital-style bed. Reflexively she curled the hand to her chest, sitting up and looking around her. The dim light showed her an all-too-familiar set of white walls, the slightly ajar door a glimpse of metal corridors...
A noise that was half-sigh, half-groan escaped her and she flopped back down, painfully aware of the throbbing in her temples, the way her vision was flickering, adding extra shadows where none should be. Medlab. Fucking medlab again.
What the hell had happened?
Her hand ached, more than it should for the brief contact with the rail, and she reached for the switch that controlled the bed angle and the lights and had the call button. The extra light made her hiss with pain and shut her eyes, cracking them carefully open until she could manage the brightness with only a minimal feeling of needles pricking her eyeballs. There was a scar on the back of her left hand, fresh and red, about an inch long. There was another on her palm, as if something had been rammed through it... but she'd remember something like that, surely? One of those weird mystical prices Strange was always banging on about then - the paleness of her skin hid the lines of old knife scars along her forearms, one for every spell that needed blood to work. But a price for what? A major spell, to judge from the pounding in her head, and she'd only do something major if there was no other option, an emergency, someone who desperately needed it...
Then a memory surfaced, of blonde hair clotted with blood, of pale skin charred and flayed and torn, streaked with red. Not a nightmare, that part was real, and Amanda groped for the call button. Alison. Alison had been hurt. Alison had been near death, and they'd needed the magic to heal her. Had it worked? She couldn't remember. Why couldn't she remember?
Jean was too tired to hear Amanda waking up, but the call button made a purely physical noise, and that was enough to get her attention. She headed quickly for Amanda's room. "Amanda?" she asked, stepping inside. The girl's mind didn't feel like pain, or didn't feel much like pain, but Jean was too tired to get more than the sense of deep fear. Taking a stab at it's source she said, "Alison's all right, Amanda. It worked. Whatever it was you girls did," you couldn't really call it an insane stunt when it was also a medical miracle, "it worked."
You girls? Plural? Amanda frowned, struggling to remember through the increasing headache, the almost metallic tang of magic tainting all her senses. "She's okay?" she croaked. "She's not...?" She couldn't say the word, not so soon after Charlie, and despite herself she groped for Jean's hand, needing the contact, human contact. "I can't think... head's all fuzzy. Spell?"
"She's not," Jean promised, taking Amanda's hand, and the physical contact gave her better access to Amanda's mind, almost too much access since neither of them were in any shape to be shielding. "Fuzzy doesn't even begin to cover it," she muttered, blinking slightly as she worked to keep separate which set of eyes she was supposed to be seeing out of, and Jean had clearly spent too much time tonight outside her own head. "Yes, spell, as far as I understand. But you need to sleep now, Amanda. Recover. Don't worry about it now."
"She's all right." And that was all that mattered really, and Amanda closed her eyes tiredly in relief. She'd done it, whatever it took, and Alison was okay and she was home. "Thanks, doc," she said, opening her eyes again and tracking laboriously until she reached Jean's face. "Look like shite y'self. Go bed, yeah?"
"Refreshingly honest, as always," Jean managed, releasing Amanda's hand. "Don't worry, I will. Buzz if you need anything, though, and sleep well." She paused for a second. "Do you want anything to stave off dreams?"
Amanda considered it, and then shook her head minutely, trying not to jar it. "Price," she managed, lids too heavy to hold open any more. "Can handle it." She lifted her hand, the newly-scarred one, and made a vague shooing gesture at Jean without opening her eyes. "Go. 'M fine."
"All right," Jean said, nodding even though Amanda couldn't see her. "Good night." She turned and slipped quietly out the door - there were still one or two things which had to be done before she could go to bed, but they wouldn't take long.
It was the same dream again, the same one she always had after a major working, fire and a cold black sky and a blood-slick knife and the earth opening into Hell, only this time it wasn't herself on the altar, it was Alison, her fair skin smeared with blood, the runes carved not just into skin but into the flesh, the bone... And then there was the demon reaching out with long clawed hands, but it wasn't Amanda it pulled down with it, it was Charlie, and as he was dragged into eternal torment he was screaming at her, that it was all her fault, that she'd messed with things she shouldn't and now other people were paying the price...
Amanda woke with a half-strangled cry, smacking her hand against the metal railing of the hospital-style bed. Reflexively she curled the hand to her chest, sitting up and looking around her. The dim light showed her an all-too-familiar set of white walls, the slightly ajar door a glimpse of metal corridors...
A noise that was half-sigh, half-groan escaped her and she flopped back down, painfully aware of the throbbing in her temples, the way her vision was flickering, adding extra shadows where none should be. Medlab. Fucking medlab again.
What the hell had happened?
Her hand ached, more than it should for the brief contact with the rail, and she reached for the switch that controlled the bed angle and the lights and had the call button. The extra light made her hiss with pain and shut her eyes, cracking them carefully open until she could manage the brightness with only a minimal feeling of needles pricking her eyeballs. There was a scar on the back of her left hand, fresh and red, about an inch long. There was another on her palm, as if something had been rammed through it... but she'd remember something like that, surely? One of those weird mystical prices Strange was always banging on about then - the paleness of her skin hid the lines of old knife scars along her forearms, one for every spell that needed blood to work. But a price for what? A major spell, to judge from the pounding in her head, and she'd only do something major if there was no other option, an emergency, someone who desperately needed it...
Then a memory surfaced, of blonde hair clotted with blood, of pale skin charred and flayed and torn, streaked with red. Not a nightmare, that part was real, and Amanda groped for the call button. Alison. Alison had been hurt. Alison had been near death, and they'd needed the magic to heal her. Had it worked? She couldn't remember. Why couldn't she remember?
Jean was too tired to hear Amanda waking up, but the call button made a purely physical noise, and that was enough to get her attention. She headed quickly for Amanda's room. "Amanda?" she asked, stepping inside. The girl's mind didn't feel like pain, or didn't feel much like pain, but Jean was too tired to get more than the sense of deep fear. Taking a stab at it's source she said, "Alison's all right, Amanda. It worked. Whatever it was you girls did," you couldn't really call it an insane stunt when it was also a medical miracle, "it worked."
You girls? Plural? Amanda frowned, struggling to remember through the increasing headache, the almost metallic tang of magic tainting all her senses. "She's okay?" she croaked. "She's not...?" She couldn't say the word, not so soon after Charlie, and despite herself she groped for Jean's hand, needing the contact, human contact. "I can't think... head's all fuzzy. Spell?"
"She's not," Jean promised, taking Amanda's hand, and the physical contact gave her better access to Amanda's mind, almost too much access since neither of them were in any shape to be shielding. "Fuzzy doesn't even begin to cover it," she muttered, blinking slightly as she worked to keep separate which set of eyes she was supposed to be seeing out of, and Jean had clearly spent too much time tonight outside her own head. "Yes, spell, as far as I understand. But you need to sleep now, Amanda. Recover. Don't worry about it now."
"She's all right." And that was all that mattered really, and Amanda closed her eyes tiredly in relief. She'd done it, whatever it took, and Alison was okay and she was home. "Thanks, doc," she said, opening her eyes again and tracking laboriously until she reached Jean's face. "Look like shite y'self. Go bed, yeah?"
"Refreshingly honest, as always," Jean managed, releasing Amanda's hand. "Don't worry, I will. Buzz if you need anything, though, and sleep well." She paused for a second. "Do you want anything to stave off dreams?"
Amanda considered it, and then shook her head minutely, trying not to jar it. "Price," she managed, lids too heavy to hold open any more. "Can handle it." She lifted her hand, the newly-scarred one, and made a vague shooing gesture at Jean without opening her eyes. "Go. 'M fine."
"All right," Jean said, nodding even though Amanda couldn't see her. "Good night." She turned and slipped quietly out the door - there were still one or two things which had to be done before she could go to bed, but they wouldn't take long.
