[ She's horrified. Of course she is. She's not used to blood yet, even when so many people come to the hospital covered in theirs or someone else's. There have been a couple of days so far when she's come back to the Hive with the smell of it thick in her nose.
She can't smell this, but the scent is there, hovering in her memory.
Sarah has never seen someone she knows hurt this way. Kate was cursed, horrible but bloodless. This is different. The blood seems lurid and unreal. That steady dripping from Michael's scalp makes her want to throw up.]
[ Michael's head does jerk up abruptly when he hears his name. While his eyes weren't closed, they were vacant, and they're still slow to focus on the source of that familiar voice. For a fraction of a second there's something ancient, distant and unrecognizable behind them, but as she continues to speak, Michael seems to shake himself slightly out of it. The blood trickling down one side of his face doesn't seem to actually be bothering him.
Now that his head is up, she'll be able to see something that looks like a strip of leather drawn tight across his throat, and a little further across his bloody chest. If she's able to squint closely enough, she might notice that there's an odd-looking mark seemingly carved into the center of his chest, though it's somewhat obscured at the moment.
It takes him a moment to clear his throat and properly find his voice. ]
[ That distant, terrible expression only worries her more.
She'll need to stop at the hospital and get an emergency kit, one of the ones with stuff for stitches and bandages. Her hands are already starting to tremble. She's practiced stitches a couple of times on discarded limbs, and that was enough to send her running for a bathroom. Sticking a needle into someone she cares about is something else entirely.
She's trying very hard not to focus too directly on his injuries.]
[ More questions that Michael has no particular intention of answering. His expression twists briefly into a faint scowl, and that shoulder tenses as if he's pulling on his arm, but it doesn't budge. He can't even use his grace to reach toward the phone and it's immensely frustrating. He exhales in a heavy sigh, knowing that there's absolutely nothing that he can do right now, about any of this. ]
Sarah. I don't need help.
[ His tone has settled back into something almost eerily calm, given the circumstances. It's difficult to explain to a human that this is nothing consequential to a being like him. He's at least vaguely aware of how terrible it must look to someone who probably isn't used to seeing blood. ]
You can't come here.
[ Definitely not right now. He's just grateful that she doesn't know where Lucifer's house is, because there's only one way he can think of to stop at at this point. And he would rather not try it. ]
Michael's calm, perpetual as it is, does reassure her a little. But it's not enough to make her give up, not when somehow a strip of leather is enough to keep him tied down. It's as surreal as the blood and that awful dripping. Nothing should be able to do that to him. Nothing. He should be able to burn that strip to ash without a thought.
She's nervous, knowing he won't be happy with what she's about to say, but that's not going to stop her. Hopefully if he knows anything about her by now, he knows that. ]
If you really don't need help, I need a reason not to get it for you. Please tell me why I shouldn't go to the police. Just tell me why I shouldn't worry and I won't.
[ Sarah couldn't possibly know that there are sigils carved into that leather, and into his very skin though they're difficult to discern from her vantage point. Not that she will understand what they mean even if she does manage to make them out. But they're keeping his grace contained, leaving him powerless to pull out of the more physical restraints.
He opens his mouth to reply, but at the mention of the police he pauses to flick his tongue over his bloody lips, wondering if there's any way that they could find him with just this video. Possibly. He hadn't expected her to try to use that as leverage. ]
My brother will be back soon.
[ He relaxes that strain with a visible effort, sinking back slightly against the headboard. The next words don't come quite as easily, because honestly? Even though this isn't a small or even a particularly dark room, hearing a voice other than his own is more of a relief than he would care to admit. ]
No! That's supposed to get me to not call the police?
[ She feels like someone is squeezing the air out of her chest. Lucifer. Lucifer is responsible. That makes a hideous kind of sense. His presence in her dreams just became terrifying. ]
I'm not going to leave you alone.
[ Chloe. That's who she can call. Forget trying to find someone at the LHPD who will act on this now, she can call Chloe directly and make sure someone does.
But that means hanging up on Michael, and she just told him she won't do that. ]
[ Michael knows that there's no way she could understand what's going on here. There are things that not even the rest of his family would understand, but at least they would have a better concept of just how much he can take. Even while he was alive, injuries like this would have been nothing. They're still nothing, but when he's bound like this he can't heal them.
He'll try this again, meeting her eyes this time. His tone is as firm and authoritative as he can manage. He is not afraid, he's not worried. Not about himself, certainly. ]
Sarah, listen to me. I told you, I don't need help. You know I've never lied to you. If you insist on getting involved, you'll just be inviting even more trouble for yourself and anyone else that you call.
[ That's true of things in general. He expects that eventually she'll realize that associating with him at all, let alone caring about him, is an awful idea. ]
[ Sarah presses a hand against her throat and feels her pulse hammering the way it didn't when she dreamed, didn't when she was confronted with what Lucifer wants her to do. She's not sure it's better this way. It might be easier if she thought this was a dream too.
She's not going to ask how it could be worse. She doesn't want to find out, and she's ashamed of herself for not being strong enough to handle it. ]
[ It's likely not entirely clear whether he's speaking in past tense or not. Whatever interpretation she goes with, it's not inaccurate. Past or present, physical or mental, they both hurt each other. It's... complicated. ]
[ She shakes her head in denial, once, then again. She won't lose her temper, she won't get angry, this is not the time, this isn't the time. When did she start needing to talk herself down in every conversation? ]
That's not. That doesn't matter. It's not a good reason - it's not a good reason to hurt someone. People don't get to take their pain and just-- just pass it around! And have that be okay!
[ So much for not losing her temper. She's not quite shouting now. ] It's not okay to make someone suffer just so you won't have to deal with your own hurt!
[ Sarah covers her mouth, feeling a sinking rush in her gut. She just yelled at him. She just yelled at him and that wasn't even meant for him. ] I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But it's not an excuse.
[ Michael knows, on some level, that he really should stop being surprised at the things that Sarah says. She's so young, so naive in many ways, and she feels so much. That's plain to see, even if he doesn't fully understand it. What he does think is that she speaks with more wisdom than he would have expected from someone so young. If only that wisdom extended as far into self-preservation.
He's not bothered that she's all but yelling at him, it's difficult to imagine letting a human's anger get to him whether or not it's directed at him, but he is listening. And his expression seems to shift, ever so slightly, because he's really considering those words. ]
It wasn't meant to be an excuse. It's not.
[ His tone is distant and distracted, even if his gaze still seems to be fixed in the present. ]
I don't know what Gabriel has told you, but there is still much that you don't understand. You should worry about yourself, not me.
[Before Michael can lie about that very intimate question, Lucifer's voice interrupts from down the hallway.]
It's hidden better this time. If you're going to kill yourself again you're going to have to find an alternative method.
[The image shifts as Lucifer obviously shifts on the bed, before the side of him becomes visible, blocking a part of Michael.]
Miss me? [He shifts closer to his brother, obviously going to kiss him on the forehead when the light of the phone catches his eye. He stills briefly before he's pulling it up from its spot in the sheets and holds it up properly to see the other end.]
Ah. Hello Sarah. [It's all said rather casually, almost friendly.] So we finally meet face to face-well, borrowed face.
Of course he wasn't going to answer that question, either. Obviously.
At least he doesn't have to bother explaining anything here. Lucifer knows that there's no way he could have picked up the phone like this, even if he'd wanted to. A scowl does cross his face when Lucifer speaks, because that wasn't particularly anything he wanted Sarah to know, but it's too late to protest now. ]
You know that hiding it isn't necessary.
[ He mutters, a tinge of annoyance coloring his tone.
His gaze is fixed at some point on the ceiling now, rather than at Lucifer or at the phone. ]
[ She could just hang up. She could just hang up, and then try to keep her brain from repeating kill yourself again on a loop until she throws up.
So that's how he died.
That's how he died, and now she's caught in the abiding sorrow she felt from him the first time they met, and is that what made him do it, and--
Lucifer is talking to her. She recognizes his voice, if not the face. There has to be something she can say. She's not going to just stare at them like an idiot, and she's not going to run away like a coward.
Sorry, Josh, she thinks.]
If you did what you need to do, you can let him go.
[He hears Michael's response, but he doesn't bother to acknowledge it. His brother can protest as much as he wants, he doesn't believe it.]
Well, that's not a very polite hello. [And he gives her a quizzical look before glancing back over at Michael.] Let him go? What-mmm. It's the blood right?
[The tips of his fingers glow as he sets two of them on Michael's forehead, and with a literal flash, the injury and the blood is all gone.]
[ Michael's eyes drift closed for a moment when Lucifer's fingers brush against his skin, but the moment they're open again he's giving his brother a look. He's clearly still incapable of doing anything, and he's aware that anything he says at this point is going to be thoroughly ignored on both sides. It's more than a bit frustrating.
He's still refusing to look at the phone.
In fact he's refusing to speak at all, since no one is going to listen. Stoic silence is something that he can do very well. ]
[ She's hopelessly out of her depth. Michael was right. She doesn't know what's going on. She wishes he would look at her, give her some indicator of what to do. But she needs to be able to figure this out on her own. She can't rely on him. She shouldn't have to rely on anybody. ]
He's still tied down, so not really.
[ At least that dripping is gone. Just gone. The power it takes do to something like that makes her stomach turn over. ]
[Oh. His brother is pouting. And Sarah is being demanding. It's almost hard to decide where he wants to focus his attention.]
That's not really any of your business, is it? If Michael wants free, he'll ask.
[And because he really can't help himself he pats Michael's messy mop of hair just to see if it'll get Michael's gaze away from the ceiling and back to him. He's not a fan of being ignored.]
[ That annoyed expression flickers back over Michael's face when Lucifer reaches over to pat his head, and he makes a low noise, barely audible but most definitely a warning sort of growl, his muscles tensing against the restraints. Fine, if Lucifer wants his attention that badly, he has it. ]
Enough.
[ If Lucifer's going to pretend that everything is so nice and friendly here, then he'll bite. So to speak. He knows that Sarah is probably looking to him for some sort of advice here, but he has nothing to give her at this point. Nothing that he hasn't said before, at least. ]
[ This time it's Sarah's turn to fall silent, holding her breath. She's trying to figure out how fast she can call LHPD if she needs to. What it will take to reach Chloe, how long before the police figure out where Michael and Lucifer are.
If they would even be there any more. She bites her lower lip and waits.]
[It's a low noise, but it's hard to miss the intent behind it. It's enough of a sound to have most of the Host trembling in fear, but Lucifer, well-he simply pats Michael's cheek and grins at him before turning back to Sarah.]
Did you know he has a hearing problem? Not because I boxed him too many times, it's entirely voluntary. But I said he could ask and he hears demand, funny how that works, right?
[Hi Sarah this is an archangel as old as time that still has moments where he acts like a snotty teenager.]
[ Lucifer is familiar with this look in Michael's eyes. It's all fire, boiling just underneath the relatively stoic exterior, but as Lucifer turns away from him, he seems to settle back into a somewhat sullen, definitely defiant glare at the ceiling. He clearly has no intention of asking for anything. It would be so much easier to just play along, but, well. Michael's stubborn pride is a force to be reckoned with. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bechdelpls) wrote2020-12-01 12:50 am
video;
[ She's horrified. Of course she is. She's not used to blood yet, even when so many people come to the hospital covered in theirs or someone else's. There have been a couple of days so far when she's come back to the Hive with the smell of it thick in her nose.
She can't smell this, but the scent is there, hovering in her memory.
Sarah has never seen someone she knows hurt this way. Kate was cursed, horrible but bloodless. This is different. The blood seems lurid and unreal. That steady dripping from Michael's scalp makes her want to throw up.]
Can you hear me? What happened?
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Now that his head is up, she'll be able to see something that looks like a strip of leather drawn tight across his throat, and a little further across his bloody chest. If she's able to squint closely enough, she might notice that there's an odd-looking mark seemingly carved into the center of his chest, though it's somewhat obscured at the moment.
It takes him a moment to clear his throat and properly find his voice. ]
I'm alright, Sarah.
[ Despite appearances. ]
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[ That distant, terrible expression only worries her more.
She'll need to stop at the hospital and get an emergency kit, one of the ones with stuff for stitches and bandages. Her hands are already starting to tremble. She's practiced stitches a couple of times on discarded limbs, and that was enough to send her running for a bathroom. Sticking a needle into someone she cares about is something else entirely.
She's trying very hard not to focus too directly on his injuries.]
How did this happen?
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Sarah. I don't need help.
[ His tone has settled back into something almost eerily calm, given the circumstances. It's difficult to explain to a human that this is nothing consequential to a being like him. He's at least vaguely aware of how terrible it must look to someone who probably isn't used to seeing blood. ]
You can't come here.
[ Definitely not right now. He's just grateful that she doesn't know where Lucifer's house is, because there's only one way he can think of to stop at at this point. And he would rather not try it. ]
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[ Sarah saw the scowl. Her stomach flip-flops.
Michael's calm, perpetual as it is, does reassure her a little. But it's not enough to make her give up, not when somehow a strip of leather is enough to keep him tied down. It's as surreal as the blood and that awful dripping. Nothing should be able to do that to him. Nothing. He should be able to burn that strip to ash without a thought.
She's nervous, knowing he won't be happy with what she's about to say, but that's not going to stop her. Hopefully if he knows anything about her by now, he knows that. ]
If you really don't need help, I need a reason not to get it for you. Please tell me why I shouldn't go to the police. Just tell me why I shouldn't worry and I won't.
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He opens his mouth to reply, but at the mention of the police he pauses to flick his tongue over his bloody lips, wondering if there's any way that they could find him with just this video. Possibly. He hadn't expected her to try to use that as leverage. ]
My brother will be back soon.
[ He relaxes that strain with a visible effort, sinking back slightly against the headboard. The next words don't come quite as easily, because honestly? Even though this isn't a small or even a particularly dark room, hearing a voice other than his own is more of a relief than he would care to admit. ]
Just hang up the phone, Sarah. Please.
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[ She feels like someone is squeezing the air out of her chest. Lucifer. Lucifer is responsible. That makes a hideous kind of sense. His presence in her dreams just became terrifying. ]
I'm not going to leave you alone.
[ Chloe. That's who she can call. Forget trying to find someone at the LHPD who will act on this now, she can call Chloe directly and make sure someone does.
But that means hanging up on Michael, and she just told him she won't do that. ]
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He'll try this again, meeting her eyes this time. His tone is as firm and authoritative as he can manage. He is not afraid, he's not worried. Not about himself, certainly. ]
Sarah, listen to me. I told you, I don't need help. You know I've never lied to you. If you insist on getting involved, you'll just be inviting even more trouble for yourself and anyone else that you call.
[ That's true of things in general. He expects that eventually she'll realize that associating with him at all, let alone caring about him, is an awful idea. ]
This isn't as bad as it looks.
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She's not going to ask how it could be worse. She doesn't want to find out, and she's ashamed of herself for not being strong enough to handle it. ]
He's hurting you.
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I hurt him, too.
[ It's likely not entirely clear whether he's speaking in past tense or not. Whatever interpretation she goes with, it's not inaccurate. Past or present, physical or mental, they both hurt each other. It's... complicated. ]
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That's not. That doesn't matter. It's not a good reason - it's not a good reason to hurt someone. People don't get to take their pain and just-- just pass it around! And have that be okay!
[ So much for not losing her temper. She's not quite shouting now. ] It's not okay to make someone suffer just so you won't have to deal with your own hurt!
[ Sarah covers her mouth, feeling a sinking rush in her gut. She just yelled at him. She just yelled at him and that wasn't even meant for him. ] I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But it's not an excuse.
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He's not bothered that she's all but yelling at him, it's difficult to imagine letting a human's anger get to him whether or not it's directed at him, but he is listening. And his expression seems to shift, ever so slightly, because he's really considering those words. ]
It wasn't meant to be an excuse. It's not.
[ His tone is distant and distracted, even if his gaze still seems to be fixed in the present. ]
I don't know what Gabriel has told you, but there is still much that you don't understand. You should worry about yourself, not me.
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I can worry about both.
[ Now she's just digging her heels in, being stubborn, and she can't bring herself to care. ]
How is he keeping you like that?
crashing in here
It's hidden better this time. If you're going to kill yourself again you're going to have to find an alternative method.
[The image shifts as Lucifer obviously shifts on the bed, before the side of him becomes visible, blocking a part of Michael.]
Miss me? [He shifts closer to his brother, obviously going to kiss him on the forehead when the light of the phone catches his eye. He stills briefly before he's pulling it up from its spot in the sheets and holds it up properly to see the other end.]
Ah. Hello Sarah. [It's all said rather casually, almost friendly.] So we finally meet face to face-well, borrowed face.
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Of course he wasn't going to answer that question, either. Obviously.
At least he doesn't have to bother explaining anything here. Lucifer knows that there's no way he could have picked up the phone like this, even if he'd wanted to. A scowl does cross his face when Lucifer speaks, because that wasn't particularly anything he wanted Sarah to know, but it's too late to protest now. ]
You know that hiding it isn't necessary.
[ He mutters, a tinge of annoyance coloring his tone.
His gaze is fixed at some point on the ceiling now, rather than at Lucifer or at the phone. ]
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So that's how he died.
That's how he died, and now she's caught in the abiding sorrow she felt from him the first time they met, and is that what made him do it, and--
Lucifer is talking to her. She recognizes his voice, if not the face. There has to be something she can say. She's not going to just stare at them like an idiot, and she's not going to run away like a coward.
Sorry, Josh, she thinks.]
If you did what you need to do, you can let him go.
[ It sounds stupid even before she says it. ]
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Well, that's not a very polite hello. [And he gives her a quizzical look before glancing back over at Michael.] Let him go? What-mmm. It's the blood right?
[The tips of his fingers glow as he sets two of them on Michael's forehead, and with a literal flash, the injury and the blood is all gone.]
Better?
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He's still refusing to look at the phone.
In fact he's refusing to speak at all, since no one is going to listen. Stoic silence is something that he can do very well. ]
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He's still tied down, so not really.
[ At least that dripping is gone. Just gone. The power it takes do to something like that makes her stomach turn over. ]
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That's not really any of your business, is it? If Michael wants free, he'll ask.
[And because he really can't help himself he pats Michael's messy mop of hair just to see if it'll get Michael's gaze away from the ceiling and back to him. He's not a fan of being ignored.]
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Enough.
[ If Lucifer's going to pretend that everything is so nice and friendly here, then he'll bite. So to speak. He knows that Sarah is probably looking to him for some sort of advice here, but he has nothing to give her at this point. Nothing that he hasn't said before, at least. ]
Release me, then.
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If they would even be there any more. She bites her lower lip and waits.]
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Did you know he has a hearing problem? Not because I boxed him too many times, it's entirely voluntary. But I said he could ask and he hears demand, funny how that works, right?
[Hi Sarah this is an archangel as old as time that still has moments where he acts like a snotty teenager.]
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It's not funny.
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And stares.
And then her mouth, as it sometimes does, gets ahead of her brain. ]
You're both acting like twelve-year-olds.
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