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xp_logsUnable to sleep after the news, Angelo looks for comfort.
Angelo knew exactly where Amanda's room was, step for step, though he hadn't been there that often. It just made it easier, to know, for those nights when he couldn't sleep, or woke suddenly, and couldn't stand to be alone anymore.
Like tonight. Especially tonight.
A strip of light under the door revealed that Amanda was still awake, even at this late hour. Or possibly she'd fallen asleep reading again. It proved to be the former, when she responded almost immediately to the soft tapping on the door:
"Come in. Door's open," she called softly, setting aside her PDA and rubbing her eyes. She'd been working on collating information from Pete's contacts, going through wads of files for references to the Preservers - since she couldn't sleep, she might as well get some work done.
He nudged the door open, offering a faint tired smile, and stepped inside. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," she replied, her answering smile tinged with concern. "Can't sleep?" she asked, collecting the papers lying scattered on the bed around her. She'd been sitting propped up with a pillow behind her back and her lap full of research. "Or just after some company?"
"Some of both, kind of", he told her, closing the door behind him and leaning on the frame. "My room's too quiet." And he'd been dreaming again, was the undertone.
She leaned over the side of the bed to set her pile of papers on the floor, and when she sat back upright, she patted the now clear space next to her. "I know how the too quiet goes. Come and chat for a bit? I'm done with work for now and Doug's been making noises at me for being up this late any way."
That got a shadow of his old crooked grin, and he moved forward to perch on the bed. "Didn't know you'd brought any with you. You're gettin' as bad as me."
"Have PDA, will be workaholic," she replied with a quiet snort of laughter. She'd put her hair in two short braids to get it out of the way, and between those and the over-sized t-shirt she was wearing over a pair of men's pyjama bottoms, she looked much like the young girl she'd been. She reached over and touched the back of his hand, just briefly. "Too bad I can't make the old sleep potion any more. That would have seen you right."
He turned his hand over to catch hers before she could pull it away, automatically. "For one night, maybe. Never did like takin' too much of anythin' to make me sleep."
She smiled and squeezed his fingers lightly - with the fragile state his emotions were in, she was letting him make most of the moves, just giving him enough small cues to let him know she was there. "'S one of the things I miss, actually. Used to be if I got sick, or couldn't sleep, I had a potion I could use. Now days, they turn into herb soup." She wrinkled her nose, keeping her tone light. "I s'pose we'll have to figure out something else instead, yeah?"
Fragile? Sure - but that was what the dull protective layer was for, the one that had yet to shatter. "Usually do", he said, trying for light himself, and getting something like it at least. "Sooner or later."
"We're clever that way," she agreed, grin turning a little mischievous before she decided to steer things back onto less risque ground. "You're heading back soon, Nate tells me?"
He nodded, once, quickly. "Soon as Dom gets out of the hospital. Shouldn't be much longer, the doctors said."
"Yeah, I saw her yesterday. She's looking much better than she was, and stir-crazy with it." She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. "The kids'll be glad to see you back. 'Specically the army of small girls."
Angelo leaned back on the pillows, fingers curling around her hand unconsciously. "...how much d'you think they know? About what happened? Haven't been watchin' the news."
"They know there was a bomb, and you were caught up in it. And that you're all right - you made sure you let them know that, remember?" As he leaned back, she shifted slightly and rested her head against his shoulder. "Your name's been in the paper once or twice."
He blinked, head tipping to lean against hers. "Yeah? What for?"
Her grip on his hand tightened a little before she answered, carefully. "For digging Dom out. Theo's pretty noticeable, and someone with a camera got a bunch of pictures." Then she added, softly: "Some of the papers are calling you a hero, so someone did some digging on the Elpis site, got your name."
Angelo took that in for a moment, then his eyes closed wearily. "Nobody told me that part, an' I haven't had the TV on... great." He hadn't done it to be a 'hero', and he hadn't known they'd got his name.
"Hey," she said, lifting her head to look at him. "'S just the media - you know what those bastards're like. They need a face to hang things on. Give it a bit and they'll find something else to focus on."
"Yeah, I know", he said quietly, on a tired breath. "I just... never wanted to be the guy who gets noticed like that. That wasn't what any of this was about." He wasn't just talking about saving Domino, he meant everything with Elpis.
"I know you didn't. So fuck 'em. They don't know the truth, and no-one who knows you will think you're doing any of it for the glory," she said pragmatically. "You know why you're doing it, that should be all that matters."
He just nodded to that, short of a response, and changed the subject. "It'll be good to get home." He hadn't forgotten Domino all but asking him to move to Tel Aviv, but... this wasn't the time to think about that too much.
"Yeah, it will." She knew what he was doing with the subject change, but let him get away with it, laying her head against his shoulder again. "Not that it's not nice here, with everyone, just... yeah. And if you asked, I'm sure Clarice would give you a lift if you wanted to come check up on Dom and the rest."
"Course she would", he agreed quietly. "Not that I won't be gettin' daily updates from Theo, if not from everybody."
"Yeah, you probably will. You and Nate both." Her voice was getting a little drowsy, lulled by Angelo's nearness. "If you want, you can stay here tonight," she suggested, after a moment. "If it'll help you sleep."
He was leaning more than a little, one arm slipping around her, and showed no sign of wanting to move. "It might", he agreed. "If you don't mind, I'll stay."
She poked him a little. "Since when have I ever minded?" she teased, before becoming serious. "I want you to stay, Ange, if you want to. I know you sleep better with someone around. And I don't expect anything more than you're up for. Taking things one at a time, remember?"
"Then I'll stay", he said with a faint smile. "Thanks." He didn't comment on the last part, mostly because he didn't know what to say to it. The 'thanks' was as much for that as for anything, though.
"You're welcome," she replied, tilting her head up to press a brief kiss to his jaw. "I'll even share the blankets this time."
in the middle of the night, Angelo wakes with another nightmare.
Sometimes his nightmares - the most recent ones - were simple. Almost the way things had really happened, except that he couldn't get Domino to breathe again when she stopped, couldn't do anything but watch her die, and no one came.
Sometimes they were a little different. The target was the villa, for example, or the mansion, or Muir Island. And even when it was the office, the face of the casualty didn't always stay the same. It had been Amanda, a couple of times, and it had been Rahne, and Bobby, and Paige and Nathan and Sarah and Forge and his mother... and in the dreams where it changed right there, flickering from face to face, it might have been anyone he knew and cared about. Anyone or everyone.
Only two things were always consistent. The broken body in the rubble... and the end. They always died, or were already dead.
The worst nights, coming with no apparent rhyme or reason, were when it was Rachel or baby Nathan.
This was one of the worst nights.
Curled around him, one arm slung over his waist, the other tucked against her chest, it took a while for Angelo's distress to filter through Amanda's slumber. But as his twitchings and mutterings grew, the witch sleepily realised something was wrong. "Ange?" she said softly, lifting her head and shaking him a little. "Ange, love, wake up." Light would help, she decided, propping herself up on her elbow to grope muzzily for the lamp switch. It eluded her, however, so with a muttered curse, she snapped her fingers, calling the werelight. The small glowing ball of neon appeared, its light subdued and a little erratic - Tel Aviv had power for sure, but it was fragmented and discordant, reflecting the city's unsettled history. By the fitful glow, she could see tears on Angelo's cheeks, and her heart twisted for him. Oh, love...
She shook him again, a little more firmly. "Ange, you're having a bad dream."
He jerked, and his eyes opened sharply, though he clearly wasn't quite awake. "....Ray..."
Amanda winced, then lay a soothing hand on his chest. "A nightmare, Ange. Ray's fine, safe and sound back on Muir with her mum." She kept her voice soft and calm, George bobbing in little worried-looking circles around the bed.
His eyes cleared, understanding that it hadn't been real, and he slumped back on the bed with a sigh. "...a dream." He was struggling for calm, even in the form of the flatness he'd worn like a shield for the last week, but it wasn't working just now.
She could see that struggle, wanted to tell him he didn't have to, not in front of her, but she also understood how sometimes the mask was all you had left. "'S all right, love," she murmured, slipping the arm she'd been leaning on under his shoulders, holding him close. "'S all right. Everyone's safe." For now.
He was afraid of what might happen if he let the mask drop. If he stopped trying. And for all that, he didn't know what that something might be... it just terrified him. He leaned, no longer remotely sleepy even if he was tired.
"I know", he said quietly, not touching on the unspoken 'for now' in his mind as well as hers.
"Would it help to tell me?" she asked, lifting her hand to wipe the tears from his face and then beginning to stroke his hair. "I'm here if you need me. You know that."
"I do", he agreed, with a faint grateful smile. "It was just... they hit the mansion. An' I know they couldn't, not really, but... dreams." Dreams never had any logic.
"Mmm," she agreed. "Dreams are fucked up sometimes. I think I like the ones about the man with the cheese slices on his head better, tho'." George dropped down to hover a scant inch or two above their heads, flickering a little. "You want to call someone there, any way? Sometimes helps, hitting things with a bit of reality," she continued, aware of the irony of talking about reality when there was a magically-induced globall hovering overhead.
"...don't know", he said with a frown, peering around for any kind of timepiece. "'s anyone there goin' to be awake?" He wasn't entirely sure what time it was in Israel, let alone in New York.
Leaning away, Amanda groped around on the nightstand until she found her phone. "'S... eight there," she said, rolling back and peering at the display. "In the evening. Should be fine." The fact it was almost seven pm in New York meant it was three in the morning for them. Gah.
He still looked uncertain, though - as much about who he could call as anything. Bobby and Rahne were so busy, Forge was gone... "Maybe. I know it's got to be okay, though. We'd have heard if anythin' happened..."
"We would." She let the hand with the phone drop, but didn't put it back yet. "Sure you don't want to give Marie a quick bell, tho'? She wouldn't mind. And she knows what it's like, with dreams and all..."
Marie knew more than that, but that went unsaid. He shook his head after another moment's indecision, though. "No point goin' worryin' her when it's just another bad dream."
"'Kay." She wouldn't push - there were plenty who were doing that, and this wasn't the time. She rolled over again and replaced the phone, before returning to wrap her arm across his chest again, resting her chin on his shoulder. Comfort she could do. "She wouldn't worry, tho', you know. Well, not any more than she is already. And she'd kick your arse for not talking to her 'cause you didn't want to bother." She smiled a little. "Like I seem t' remember you threatening me with, more than once."
He appreciated that - pushing might be the only way to get him to really talk, now, but that was for a reason. He wrapped his arms around her, sliding down a little into a more comfortable position.
"Maybe. But... not now. I'll call her tomorrow, maybe."
She shifted so his head was resting more on her shoulder, tucked beneath her chin, his arms around her waist, hers wrapped around his shoulders. "Tomorrow works," she murmured, thinking to extinguish George but deciding against it - the spell would short out on its own eventually, and the light was somehow comforting. "There's no rush." She brushed her lips across his hair, meaning so much more than just the call to Marie. "No rush at all."
Angelo knew exactly where Amanda's room was, step for step, though he hadn't been there that often. It just made it easier, to know, for those nights when he couldn't sleep, or woke suddenly, and couldn't stand to be alone anymore.
Like tonight. Especially tonight.
A strip of light under the door revealed that Amanda was still awake, even at this late hour. Or possibly she'd fallen asleep reading again. It proved to be the former, when she responded almost immediately to the soft tapping on the door:
"Come in. Door's open," she called softly, setting aside her PDA and rubbing her eyes. She'd been working on collating information from Pete's contacts, going through wads of files for references to the Preservers - since she couldn't sleep, she might as well get some work done.
He nudged the door open, offering a faint tired smile, and stepped inside. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," she replied, her answering smile tinged with concern. "Can't sleep?" she asked, collecting the papers lying scattered on the bed around her. She'd been sitting propped up with a pillow behind her back and her lap full of research. "Or just after some company?"
"Some of both, kind of", he told her, closing the door behind him and leaning on the frame. "My room's too quiet." And he'd been dreaming again, was the undertone.
She leaned over the side of the bed to set her pile of papers on the floor, and when she sat back upright, she patted the now clear space next to her. "I know how the too quiet goes. Come and chat for a bit? I'm done with work for now and Doug's been making noises at me for being up this late any way."
That got a shadow of his old crooked grin, and he moved forward to perch on the bed. "Didn't know you'd brought any with you. You're gettin' as bad as me."
"Have PDA, will be workaholic," she replied with a quiet snort of laughter. She'd put her hair in two short braids to get it out of the way, and between those and the over-sized t-shirt she was wearing over a pair of men's pyjama bottoms, she looked much like the young girl she'd been. She reached over and touched the back of his hand, just briefly. "Too bad I can't make the old sleep potion any more. That would have seen you right."
He turned his hand over to catch hers before she could pull it away, automatically. "For one night, maybe. Never did like takin' too much of anythin' to make me sleep."
She smiled and squeezed his fingers lightly - with the fragile state his emotions were in, she was letting him make most of the moves, just giving him enough small cues to let him know she was there. "'S one of the things I miss, actually. Used to be if I got sick, or couldn't sleep, I had a potion I could use. Now days, they turn into herb soup." She wrinkled her nose, keeping her tone light. "I s'pose we'll have to figure out something else instead, yeah?"
Fragile? Sure - but that was what the dull protective layer was for, the one that had yet to shatter. "Usually do", he said, trying for light himself, and getting something like it at least. "Sooner or later."
"We're clever that way," she agreed, grin turning a little mischievous before she decided to steer things back onto less risque ground. "You're heading back soon, Nate tells me?"
He nodded, once, quickly. "Soon as Dom gets out of the hospital. Shouldn't be much longer, the doctors said."
"Yeah, I saw her yesterday. She's looking much better than she was, and stir-crazy with it." She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. "The kids'll be glad to see you back. 'Specically the army of small girls."
Angelo leaned back on the pillows, fingers curling around her hand unconsciously. "...how much d'you think they know? About what happened? Haven't been watchin' the news."
"They know there was a bomb, and you were caught up in it. And that you're all right - you made sure you let them know that, remember?" As he leaned back, she shifted slightly and rested her head against his shoulder. "Your name's been in the paper once or twice."
He blinked, head tipping to lean against hers. "Yeah? What for?"
Her grip on his hand tightened a little before she answered, carefully. "For digging Dom out. Theo's pretty noticeable, and someone with a camera got a bunch of pictures." Then she added, softly: "Some of the papers are calling you a hero, so someone did some digging on the Elpis site, got your name."
Angelo took that in for a moment, then his eyes closed wearily. "Nobody told me that part, an' I haven't had the TV on... great." He hadn't done it to be a 'hero', and he hadn't known they'd got his name.
"Hey," she said, lifting her head to look at him. "'S just the media - you know what those bastards're like. They need a face to hang things on. Give it a bit and they'll find something else to focus on."
"Yeah, I know", he said quietly, on a tired breath. "I just... never wanted to be the guy who gets noticed like that. That wasn't what any of this was about." He wasn't just talking about saving Domino, he meant everything with Elpis.
"I know you didn't. So fuck 'em. They don't know the truth, and no-one who knows you will think you're doing any of it for the glory," she said pragmatically. "You know why you're doing it, that should be all that matters."
He just nodded to that, short of a response, and changed the subject. "It'll be good to get home." He hadn't forgotten Domino all but asking him to move to Tel Aviv, but... this wasn't the time to think about that too much.
"Yeah, it will." She knew what he was doing with the subject change, but let him get away with it, laying her head against his shoulder again. "Not that it's not nice here, with everyone, just... yeah. And if you asked, I'm sure Clarice would give you a lift if you wanted to come check up on Dom and the rest."
"Course she would", he agreed quietly. "Not that I won't be gettin' daily updates from Theo, if not from everybody."
"Yeah, you probably will. You and Nate both." Her voice was getting a little drowsy, lulled by Angelo's nearness. "If you want, you can stay here tonight," she suggested, after a moment. "If it'll help you sleep."
He was leaning more than a little, one arm slipping around her, and showed no sign of wanting to move. "It might", he agreed. "If you don't mind, I'll stay."
She poked him a little. "Since when have I ever minded?" she teased, before becoming serious. "I want you to stay, Ange, if you want to. I know you sleep better with someone around. And I don't expect anything more than you're up for. Taking things one at a time, remember?"
"Then I'll stay", he said with a faint smile. "Thanks." He didn't comment on the last part, mostly because he didn't know what to say to it. The 'thanks' was as much for that as for anything, though.
"You're welcome," she replied, tilting her head up to press a brief kiss to his jaw. "I'll even share the blankets this time."
in the middle of the night, Angelo wakes with another nightmare.
Sometimes his nightmares - the most recent ones - were simple. Almost the way things had really happened, except that he couldn't get Domino to breathe again when she stopped, couldn't do anything but watch her die, and no one came.
Sometimes they were a little different. The target was the villa, for example, or the mansion, or Muir Island. And even when it was the office, the face of the casualty didn't always stay the same. It had been Amanda, a couple of times, and it had been Rahne, and Bobby, and Paige and Nathan and Sarah and Forge and his mother... and in the dreams where it changed right there, flickering from face to face, it might have been anyone he knew and cared about. Anyone or everyone.
Only two things were always consistent. The broken body in the rubble... and the end. They always died, or were already dead.
The worst nights, coming with no apparent rhyme or reason, were when it was Rachel or baby Nathan.
This was one of the worst nights.
Curled around him, one arm slung over his waist, the other tucked against her chest, it took a while for Angelo's distress to filter through Amanda's slumber. But as his twitchings and mutterings grew, the witch sleepily realised something was wrong. "Ange?" she said softly, lifting her head and shaking him a little. "Ange, love, wake up." Light would help, she decided, propping herself up on her elbow to grope muzzily for the lamp switch. It eluded her, however, so with a muttered curse, she snapped her fingers, calling the werelight. The small glowing ball of neon appeared, its light subdued and a little erratic - Tel Aviv had power for sure, but it was fragmented and discordant, reflecting the city's unsettled history. By the fitful glow, she could see tears on Angelo's cheeks, and her heart twisted for him. Oh, love...
She shook him again, a little more firmly. "Ange, you're having a bad dream."
He jerked, and his eyes opened sharply, though he clearly wasn't quite awake. "....Ray..."
Amanda winced, then lay a soothing hand on his chest. "A nightmare, Ange. Ray's fine, safe and sound back on Muir with her mum." She kept her voice soft and calm, George bobbing in little worried-looking circles around the bed.
His eyes cleared, understanding that it hadn't been real, and he slumped back on the bed with a sigh. "...a dream." He was struggling for calm, even in the form of the flatness he'd worn like a shield for the last week, but it wasn't working just now.
She could see that struggle, wanted to tell him he didn't have to, not in front of her, but she also understood how sometimes the mask was all you had left. "'S all right, love," she murmured, slipping the arm she'd been leaning on under his shoulders, holding him close. "'S all right. Everyone's safe." For now.
He was afraid of what might happen if he let the mask drop. If he stopped trying. And for all that, he didn't know what that something might be... it just terrified him. He leaned, no longer remotely sleepy even if he was tired.
"I know", he said quietly, not touching on the unspoken 'for now' in his mind as well as hers.
"Would it help to tell me?" she asked, lifting her hand to wipe the tears from his face and then beginning to stroke his hair. "I'm here if you need me. You know that."
"I do", he agreed, with a faint grateful smile. "It was just... they hit the mansion. An' I know they couldn't, not really, but... dreams." Dreams never had any logic.
"Mmm," she agreed. "Dreams are fucked up sometimes. I think I like the ones about the man with the cheese slices on his head better, tho'." George dropped down to hover a scant inch or two above their heads, flickering a little. "You want to call someone there, any way? Sometimes helps, hitting things with a bit of reality," she continued, aware of the irony of talking about reality when there was a magically-induced globall hovering overhead.
"...don't know", he said with a frown, peering around for any kind of timepiece. "'s anyone there goin' to be awake?" He wasn't entirely sure what time it was in Israel, let alone in New York.
Leaning away, Amanda groped around on the nightstand until she found her phone. "'S... eight there," she said, rolling back and peering at the display. "In the evening. Should be fine." The fact it was almost seven pm in New York meant it was three in the morning for them. Gah.
He still looked uncertain, though - as much about who he could call as anything. Bobby and Rahne were so busy, Forge was gone... "Maybe. I know it's got to be okay, though. We'd have heard if anythin' happened..."
"We would." She let the hand with the phone drop, but didn't put it back yet. "Sure you don't want to give Marie a quick bell, tho'? She wouldn't mind. And she knows what it's like, with dreams and all..."
Marie knew more than that, but that went unsaid. He shook his head after another moment's indecision, though. "No point goin' worryin' her when it's just another bad dream."
"'Kay." She wouldn't push - there were plenty who were doing that, and this wasn't the time. She rolled over again and replaced the phone, before returning to wrap her arm across his chest again, resting her chin on his shoulder. Comfort she could do. "She wouldn't worry, tho', you know. Well, not any more than she is already. And she'd kick your arse for not talking to her 'cause you didn't want to bother." She smiled a little. "Like I seem t' remember you threatening me with, more than once."
He appreciated that - pushing might be the only way to get him to really talk, now, but that was for a reason. He wrapped his arms around her, sliding down a little into a more comfortable position.
"Maybe. But... not now. I'll call her tomorrow, maybe."
She shifted so his head was resting more on her shoulder, tucked beneath her chin, his arms around her waist, hers wrapped around his shoulders. "Tomorrow works," she murmured, thinking to extinguish George but deciding against it - the spell would short out on its own eventually, and the light was somehow comforting. "There's no rush." She brushed her lips across his hair, meaning so much more than just the call to Marie. "No rush at all."
