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Amanda seeks out Angelo to give him the news about Rachel personally.



Angelo had holed up in a hotel room to wait for the repatriation. All he wanted, right now, was a very long, very hot shower and maybe a bit of sleep in a really comfortable bed.

At the knock on the door, though, he wandered over to open it - whatever else, he wasn't going to turn away any friendly faces.

The face was friendly, albeit tired and somehow drawn. "Hey," Amanda said with a wan smile. "Mind a visitor for a few?"

"Yeah, I can always spare time for you." Her expression got a worried look, when everything had turned out so well... but, he remembered, she'd been in the prison and God only knew what they'd done to her there. "Tea, coffee, something else?"

"You have to ask?" she teased gently, but with that mantle of care casting a pall over her usual humour. "Tea, please, Ange."

"Tea", he agreed, stepping to the dresser to start preparing two cups. "Sit down, there's... only one chair, but I can sit on the bed."

She watched as he made the tea, chewing absently on her thumbnail. "How're you doing?" she asked. "Gar said you'd taken a pretty bad hit to the head."

"Rifle butt", he confirmed. "Concussion, Jean said, but it could've been worse. The headache's even gone away now." He turned back, holding both cups, and extended one to her in a strand of skin as he settled on the bed. "You? Looks like you took a few hits yourself."

"Not to self, learn to duck," she replied with a shrug. "Caught a rubber bullet off my head and the usual violence in custody shtik, but Jenny's healer fixed what a dip in Hammer Bay couldn't." Her eyes dropped from his, however, to the cup she had wrapped both hands around, holding it as if it was a lifeline. "Ange... I've got soem news for you. Bad news."

He went very still at that, his usual reaction to being told anything of the kind, and visibly ran through everyone he knew had been there, checking off everyone he knew was safe. "What?" he eventually asked, quietly.

"The night we were taken, they wanted to make sure we knew we'd lost. They did the usual stuff, threats, beatings..." She sucked in a breath, trying to steady the tremble in her voice. "Then they made us watch their mutate process." The breath hadn't been enough - tears had begun to well in her eyes, something Angelo hadn't seen the witch do for a few years now. "Ange... it was Rachel."

The cup dropped from his hands to bounce on the floor and he stared at her, not wanting to believe but knowing she wasn't lying. "No. No, she was on Muir, she was safe..."

She set aside her own cup, reaching over to wrap her hands around his. "I'm sorry, Ange, they took her. The Prof got a voicemail from Moira, Rachel was snatched from them. I saw her in that chair when they..." Her voice faltered and she swallowed hard. "She didn't make it, Ange. The process... it killed her."

He couldn't speak. For a long few minutes, he tried, but nothing came. Finally, almost inaudible, "Oh my God, no."

"I wish I was wrong." Tears were streaming down Amanda's face now and she moved to sit beside him on the bed, slipping her arms around him. "But I saw it with my own eyes. They made us watch it, Ange, they wanted us to see." She lay her forehead on his shoulder, eyes closed against the recurring vision of what had happened. "I didn't want you to find out from someone else, I had to tell you myself. I'm so sorry, Ange."

He was crying himself, barely seeming to notice as his arms slid automatically around her in turn. He didn't seem to be seeing anything that was actually in the room, any more. "But... she was just little, she never did any harm to anyone. Why... why would they do that?"

All of the tactical reasons rose in Amanda's mind - that Moreau had wanted them broken, that it was a display of power - but none of that really mattered. The only thing that mattered was a six year old girl, a girl Angelo had loved like she was his own sister, was dead. She tightened her hug, holding him close to her. "I don't know, Ange. I just don't. I'm sorry."

He put his head down on her shoulder and wept. "And after Tyler and Kevin", came out eventually, choked. "They must be so broken up."

It had been the thought that she'd had to avoid in prison, to stop herself from breaking completely. "I was going to go to Muir," she said softly. "To... I don't know. Whatever I can do."

"You should", he agreed. "Just... be with Moira, she'll need you. I guess I'll stay in New York mostly, take over for Nate."

"Come with me," she suggested. "Even for a little while - Nate will need you too. More 'n anyone, he'll need you."

"True." He smiled weakly. "John and Juliette can manage the office for a while."

As far as Amanda was concerned, they'd manage if she had to chain them to their desks. "They can," she agreed. There were more important things at stake here.

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