Post by Eden Morgan on Oct 2, 2009 1:00:13 GMT -5
“Havyn, dinner’s almost ready!” Sherry yelled down the hall from the kitchen of the spacious apartment she had recently acquired for her, Havyn, and Jezebel when she finally… came back. Thinking about it, she knew Jez would like her choice, and really it wasn’t practical to keep living out of a hotel. This company didn’t move and so neither would they. For a while.
With a sigh, Sherry turned back to the stove, stirring the simmering pot of pasta and meat sauce, guiltily wishing it were a certain highly moral young man she were cooking for and secretly hoping he might stop by tonight. She quickly dismissed that thought, realizing all the carbs in this particular dish would probably be anathema to him. The knock, or pounding rather, at the door jolted her our of her reverie and made her splatter a bit of red sauce on her shirt.
“Shit,” she muttered, gasping and quickly putting a hand over her mouth, hoping if it were him outside he didn’t hear her utter the curse word. Even though he had lost his vaunted control last week, she still wanted to be as a paragon to him. Smoothing her hair, she moved over to the door, grasping the doorknob and making her face look poised and calm as she smoothly opened the door. Her face fell when she saw who stood in the doorway.
“Well damn, Sherry, you don’t have to look so happy to see me.” Salem stood framed in the doorway, filling the empty space with his huge presence, both physical and otherwise. Sherry crossed her arms, her look annoyed.
“I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”
Salem grinned at her.
“And who exactly were you expecting, hmm? Could it possibly be that straight-edge bastard who’s name starts with a J and ends with an -et?” Salem’s grin turned to a smirk when Sherry blushed.
“Honestly, I expected better of you, Sherry.” At that, Sherry’s arms came uncrossed and she glared at the big man.
“Well don’t just stand in the door, get in here. Don’t expect me to be feeding you, I didn’t make enough for a damn army. What do you want, anyway?”
Salem chuckled to himself, realizing he hit the nail squarely on the head with his remarks about her feelings for Jezebel’s brother, but that thought lead to a more serious one, his reason for coming. He cleared his throat.
“Havyn is here, isn’t she?”
Sherry returned his mocking glance from moments before.
“Oh no, you just missed her. She left about 15 minutes ago to hit a kegger.”
Salem raised a brow at her sarcasm, but said nothing as the imp in question comes bounding into the room at that moment.
“Salem!” Havyn cried happily, diving into his arms for what she referred to as one of his “monster hugs.” Salem happily obliged the little girl and a genuine smile melded itself to his lips as he embraced the youngster. Just as suddenly as she had dove for him, the little girl drew away and sobered up a bit.
“Is mommy better?” Havyn’s serious inquiry hung between Sherry and Salem like a dense fog. Salem cleared his throat again.
“That’s actually why I’m here, Havyn. I have a job for you.”
Havyn looked at Salem quizzically before climbing on his knee to hear what he had to say. Sherry eyed Salem suspiciously, but he did his best to ignore her. Salem took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.
“Havyn, your mommy needs your help. Her body is okay, it will heal, but it’s her mind that is sick. She thinks she’s still in a dream, that none of this is real. I think that if she saw you, talked to you, held you, that would bring her out of it and she could come home. Would you like that?”
Salem ignored Sherry vehemently shaking her head behind Havyn and focused instead on the little girl on his knee who was nodding her head vigorously and bouncing up and down with excitement.
“I’ll help, I’ll help! I’ve wanted to see mommy so bad, but Uncle Jet said I couldn’t see her until she got better. He said she wouldn’t want me to see her like this. So she must be well enough for me to see her. I’ll wake mommy up, Salem. Can we go now? Can we take your bike?”
“Yes we can go now and no we’re not taking the bike. Your mom would kill me.”
The little girl cast pleading eyes, eyes so like her mother’s, up at Salem and he nodded, this time glancing up to see Sherry’s face set in a frown of disapproval, her arms crossed again.
“Jet won’t like this.”
Salem snorted at her words.
“Yeah, and I give a shit because?”
“That’s a bad word, Salem,” Havyn scolded him, shaking her little finger at him.
“You’re right, my dear, I’m sorry. I shall try to never say your uncle’s name again.”
Havyn giggled at him, but before she could correct him, he stood and put her on her feet. The look he gave Sherry was heavy with meaning. She stared back at him equally as hard before finally throwing her hands up.
“Alright, alright, go, take her. I just hope this works.”
Salem leaned over to pick up the little girl who at the point was hopping up and down chanting “uppy, uppy” excited to get to go somewhere, and even more excited she would finally see her mother again.
“So do I.”
About an hour later
“Now, remember what I told you, Havyn. Your mommy thinks this is a dream. You have to convince her that this is real, that she’s safe. Just go to your mommy and don’t worry about me and Uncle Jet, we’ll be having some grown up time while you do your stuff, okay?”
The little girl looks up at him, nodding, her eyes big from her excitement and longing to see her mother, but Salem sees something else in their depths that causes a twinge of guilt to hit in the pit of his stomach… fear. If he had his way, that look would never enter her eyes, or her mother’s for that matter, again. Taking a deep breath, he lowers a large hand to her, her tiny one slipping into his as his engulfs hers gently. In a strange way, it was as if he was pulling strength from the little girl and she from him.
“You ready, kid?”
“I’m ready.” Havyn smiles at him encouragingly and Salem smiles back, missing the optimism of youth as he pushes the door open unceremoniously.
The occupants of the room look up, startled, at the new entrants. Jezebel hasn’t even looked toward the door, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, unseeing and uncaring of what is about her. They are not so lucky as to go unnoticed by Jet.
“Salem… what are you doing?”
“She needs to see her mother, Jet, and her mother needs to see her.”
“Not like this!” Jet jumps up from the chair where he was sitting at Jezebel’s side and moves quickly across the room, hoping he can usher them both out before more damage is caused. Havyn has yet to move, her eyes focused on her mother. Just as Jet reaches them and before he can urge her out the door, she finally calls out.
“Mommy!”
Her voice, shrill and panicky, begging for attention, her mother’s attention. That one word so plaintive, so full of longing, hope, love, sorrow. So much in that one, emotion-filled word. It doesn’t fall on deaf ears. Jet stops in his tracks and kneels down in front of her, his eyes wavering from unshed tears.
“Havyn, your mommy isn’t well. You shouldn’t be here.” He glares up at Salem with his last words.
“Why don’t we go down to the cafeteria and see if they have some ice cream?” He gives her his most winning smile, but Havyn is unmoved.
“I don’t want ice cream, Uncle Jet, I want my mommy. I can help her. Salem said so.”
Hearing her unwavering words, Jet stands to glare up at Salem, who tops his quite a bit in height. His words are low and angry when they come.
“You have no right to do what you have done. What do you hope to gain from this? Do you want to break her heart, are you really that much of a monster? There will be repercussions from this, Salem, I can assure you of that. I’ve been holding back for love of my sister, but no more. It’s because of you and those other idiots that she is the way she is. How does it feel to look at her and know you caused this? How… does… it… feel?”
With his words, Jet has moved closer to Salem, almost spitting in his face with the force of his words. Salem glares back at Jet, his hands clenched at his sides. Neither man notice that the little girl has finally moved forward and is now next to the bed, studying it’s occupant, the sorrow clear on her young face.
“Mommy, please.”
She reaches out wrap her small hand around one of Jezebel’s long, graceful fingers, noticing all the cuts and bruises on them that are only now fading. When she still doesn’t get a response, the tears slip down Havyn’s still baby cheeks freely as she lowers her face over her mother’s hand, rubbing her face on it as she cries. Hearing her cries, the two men stop their glaring contest and war of words and, for the first time, Salem wonders if there is no fixing this and if he has created yet another victim in this mess. Obviously feeling that way, Jet shoots him a venomous look before moving quickly to Havyn’s side and trying to gently pull her away from her mother.
“Shhh, Havyn, it’s okay. Just give her some time.”
The weeping girl clings tighter to the hand, her voice brokenly crying for her mother, begging her to hear. Suddenly, the formerly limp hand curls against her cheek, cupping it, catching the tears in the palm. Havyn turns her head, looking at her mother, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. Jezebel looks back at Havyn, her eyes so like her daughter’s distant and lost, but there is a slight focusing to them that wasn’t there before. Jet and Salem stare at Jezebel, neither wanting to speak and break what is happening.
“Mommy?”
Havyn raises her head and puts both of her hands in one of Jezebel’s. Jezebel just stares at her, her eyes studying her, as if trying to reason her out, before her voice, it’s softness almost deafening, breaks the silence.
“Havyn..”
Havyn bursts into tears and climbs onto her mother’s bed, unhindered by the few wire and tubes still attached to her. Jezebel stares at her, that focusing becoming more and more clear. Havyn flings herself on Jezebel’s chest and sobs all the fears and uncertainties of the past weeks into her mother, her tears soaking through the hospital sheet and thin gown covering Jezebel’s frame. Jezebel looks at Jet, kneeling by the bed, the tears evident in his eyes, and then to Salem, that dark man who stands pale and shaken a few feet away. Her eyes slowly move from the men and then look down at the child on her chest, her arms moving around the weeping bundle. One hand moves up to smooth Havyn’s long, wavy red hair, her lips unconsciously forming soothing sounds as she runs her fingers through the thickness, the hair abrasive to her tender digits. She winces, but continues her ministrations. The focus returns with a shock.
“It hurts.”
Those two words make Havyn raise her head from her mother’s chest.
“What hurts, mommy?”
“Your hair. It hurts my fingers.” Jezebel stares at her daughter as if she’s seeing a ghost, or perhaps as if she is seeing her for the first time again, her eyes devouring her hungrily. A cry catches in the back of her throat and she clutches Havyn to her, the tears pouring down her cheeks as she leans forward, rocking her daughter in her arms as best she can, enjoying the pain that lets her know she is alive, enjoying the feel of her daughter in her arms, letting her know it finally isn’t a dream.
Salem is the first to come forward, moving quietly to the head of the bed beside Jezebel and smoothing a big hand through her hair as she does the same for Havyn. He looks down at her and his eyes water with emotion and the moment. Jezebel returns his look and turns her head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand before turning back to kiss the top of Havyn’s head. Jet finally moves forward and Jezebel holds out a hand to him, clasping one of his as tightly as she can, giving him an encouraging smile, a smile of hope, before muttering words of encouragement to her daughter.
“It’s okay sweetie. That was one hell of a dream, but mommy’s awake now.”
With a sigh, Sherry turned back to the stove, stirring the simmering pot of pasta and meat sauce, guiltily wishing it were a certain highly moral young man she were cooking for and secretly hoping he might stop by tonight. She quickly dismissed that thought, realizing all the carbs in this particular dish would probably be anathema to him. The knock, or pounding rather, at the door jolted her our of her reverie and made her splatter a bit of red sauce on her shirt.
“Shit,” she muttered, gasping and quickly putting a hand over her mouth, hoping if it were him outside he didn’t hear her utter the curse word. Even though he had lost his vaunted control last week, she still wanted to be as a paragon to him. Smoothing her hair, she moved over to the door, grasping the doorknob and making her face look poised and calm as she smoothly opened the door. Her face fell when she saw who stood in the doorway.
“Well damn, Sherry, you don’t have to look so happy to see me.” Salem stood framed in the doorway, filling the empty space with his huge presence, both physical and otherwise. Sherry crossed her arms, her look annoyed.
“I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.”
Salem grinned at her.
“And who exactly were you expecting, hmm? Could it possibly be that straight-edge bastard who’s name starts with a J and ends with an -et?” Salem’s grin turned to a smirk when Sherry blushed.
“Honestly, I expected better of you, Sherry.” At that, Sherry’s arms came uncrossed and she glared at the big man.
“Well don’t just stand in the door, get in here. Don’t expect me to be feeding you, I didn’t make enough for a damn army. What do you want, anyway?”
Salem chuckled to himself, realizing he hit the nail squarely on the head with his remarks about her feelings for Jezebel’s brother, but that thought lead to a more serious one, his reason for coming. He cleared his throat.
“Havyn is here, isn’t she?”
Sherry returned his mocking glance from moments before.
“Oh no, you just missed her. She left about 15 minutes ago to hit a kegger.”
Salem raised a brow at her sarcasm, but said nothing as the imp in question comes bounding into the room at that moment.
“Salem!” Havyn cried happily, diving into his arms for what she referred to as one of his “monster hugs.” Salem happily obliged the little girl and a genuine smile melded itself to his lips as he embraced the youngster. Just as suddenly as she had dove for him, the little girl drew away and sobered up a bit.
“Is mommy better?” Havyn’s serious inquiry hung between Sherry and Salem like a dense fog. Salem cleared his throat again.
“That’s actually why I’m here, Havyn. I have a job for you.”
Havyn looked at Salem quizzically before climbing on his knee to hear what he had to say. Sherry eyed Salem suspiciously, but he did his best to ignore her. Salem took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking.
“Havyn, your mommy needs your help. Her body is okay, it will heal, but it’s her mind that is sick. She thinks she’s still in a dream, that none of this is real. I think that if she saw you, talked to you, held you, that would bring her out of it and she could come home. Would you like that?”
Salem ignored Sherry vehemently shaking her head behind Havyn and focused instead on the little girl on his knee who was nodding her head vigorously and bouncing up and down with excitement.
“I’ll help, I’ll help! I’ve wanted to see mommy so bad, but Uncle Jet said I couldn’t see her until she got better. He said she wouldn’t want me to see her like this. So she must be well enough for me to see her. I’ll wake mommy up, Salem. Can we go now? Can we take your bike?”
“Yes we can go now and no we’re not taking the bike. Your mom would kill me.”
The little girl cast pleading eyes, eyes so like her mother’s, up at Salem and he nodded, this time glancing up to see Sherry’s face set in a frown of disapproval, her arms crossed again.
“Jet won’t like this.”
Salem snorted at her words.
“Yeah, and I give a shit because?”
“That’s a bad word, Salem,” Havyn scolded him, shaking her little finger at him.
“You’re right, my dear, I’m sorry. I shall try to never say your uncle’s name again.”
Havyn giggled at him, but before she could correct him, he stood and put her on her feet. The look he gave Sherry was heavy with meaning. She stared back at him equally as hard before finally throwing her hands up.
“Alright, alright, go, take her. I just hope this works.”
Salem leaned over to pick up the little girl who at the point was hopping up and down chanting “uppy, uppy” excited to get to go somewhere, and even more excited she would finally see her mother again.
“So do I.”
About an hour later
“Now, remember what I told you, Havyn. Your mommy thinks this is a dream. You have to convince her that this is real, that she’s safe. Just go to your mommy and don’t worry about me and Uncle Jet, we’ll be having some grown up time while you do your stuff, okay?”
The little girl looks up at him, nodding, her eyes big from her excitement and longing to see her mother, but Salem sees something else in their depths that causes a twinge of guilt to hit in the pit of his stomach… fear. If he had his way, that look would never enter her eyes, or her mother’s for that matter, again. Taking a deep breath, he lowers a large hand to her, her tiny one slipping into his as his engulfs hers gently. In a strange way, it was as if he was pulling strength from the little girl and she from him.
“You ready, kid?”
“I’m ready.” Havyn smiles at him encouragingly and Salem smiles back, missing the optimism of youth as he pushes the door open unceremoniously.
The occupants of the room look up, startled, at the new entrants. Jezebel hasn’t even looked toward the door, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, unseeing and uncaring of what is about her. They are not so lucky as to go unnoticed by Jet.
“Salem… what are you doing?”
“She needs to see her mother, Jet, and her mother needs to see her.”
“Not like this!” Jet jumps up from the chair where he was sitting at Jezebel’s side and moves quickly across the room, hoping he can usher them both out before more damage is caused. Havyn has yet to move, her eyes focused on her mother. Just as Jet reaches them and before he can urge her out the door, she finally calls out.
“Mommy!”
Her voice, shrill and panicky, begging for attention, her mother’s attention. That one word so plaintive, so full of longing, hope, love, sorrow. So much in that one, emotion-filled word. It doesn’t fall on deaf ears. Jet stops in his tracks and kneels down in front of her, his eyes wavering from unshed tears.
“Havyn, your mommy isn’t well. You shouldn’t be here.” He glares up at Salem with his last words.
“Why don’t we go down to the cafeteria and see if they have some ice cream?” He gives her his most winning smile, but Havyn is unmoved.
“I don’t want ice cream, Uncle Jet, I want my mommy. I can help her. Salem said so.”
Hearing her unwavering words, Jet stands to glare up at Salem, who tops his quite a bit in height. His words are low and angry when they come.
“You have no right to do what you have done. What do you hope to gain from this? Do you want to break her heart, are you really that much of a monster? There will be repercussions from this, Salem, I can assure you of that. I’ve been holding back for love of my sister, but no more. It’s because of you and those other idiots that she is the way she is. How does it feel to look at her and know you caused this? How… does… it… feel?”
With his words, Jet has moved closer to Salem, almost spitting in his face with the force of his words. Salem glares back at Jet, his hands clenched at his sides. Neither man notice that the little girl has finally moved forward and is now next to the bed, studying it’s occupant, the sorrow clear on her young face.
“Mommy, please.”
She reaches out wrap her small hand around one of Jezebel’s long, graceful fingers, noticing all the cuts and bruises on them that are only now fading. When she still doesn’t get a response, the tears slip down Havyn’s still baby cheeks freely as she lowers her face over her mother’s hand, rubbing her face on it as she cries. Hearing her cries, the two men stop their glaring contest and war of words and, for the first time, Salem wonders if there is no fixing this and if he has created yet another victim in this mess. Obviously feeling that way, Jet shoots him a venomous look before moving quickly to Havyn’s side and trying to gently pull her away from her mother.
“Shhh, Havyn, it’s okay. Just give her some time.”
The weeping girl clings tighter to the hand, her voice brokenly crying for her mother, begging her to hear. Suddenly, the formerly limp hand curls against her cheek, cupping it, catching the tears in the palm. Havyn turns her head, looking at her mother, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. Jezebel looks back at Havyn, her eyes so like her daughter’s distant and lost, but there is a slight focusing to them that wasn’t there before. Jet and Salem stare at Jezebel, neither wanting to speak and break what is happening.
“Mommy?”
Havyn raises her head and puts both of her hands in one of Jezebel’s. Jezebel just stares at her, her eyes studying her, as if trying to reason her out, before her voice, it’s softness almost deafening, breaks the silence.
“Havyn..”
Havyn bursts into tears and climbs onto her mother’s bed, unhindered by the few wire and tubes still attached to her. Jezebel stares at her, that focusing becoming more and more clear. Havyn flings herself on Jezebel’s chest and sobs all the fears and uncertainties of the past weeks into her mother, her tears soaking through the hospital sheet and thin gown covering Jezebel’s frame. Jezebel looks at Jet, kneeling by the bed, the tears evident in his eyes, and then to Salem, that dark man who stands pale and shaken a few feet away. Her eyes slowly move from the men and then look down at the child on her chest, her arms moving around the weeping bundle. One hand moves up to smooth Havyn’s long, wavy red hair, her lips unconsciously forming soothing sounds as she runs her fingers through the thickness, the hair abrasive to her tender digits. She winces, but continues her ministrations. The focus returns with a shock.
“It hurts.”
Those two words make Havyn raise her head from her mother’s chest.
“What hurts, mommy?”
“Your hair. It hurts my fingers.” Jezebel stares at her daughter as if she’s seeing a ghost, or perhaps as if she is seeing her for the first time again, her eyes devouring her hungrily. A cry catches in the back of her throat and she clutches Havyn to her, the tears pouring down her cheeks as she leans forward, rocking her daughter in her arms as best she can, enjoying the pain that lets her know she is alive, enjoying the feel of her daughter in her arms, letting her know it finally isn’t a dream.
Salem is the first to come forward, moving quietly to the head of the bed beside Jezebel and smoothing a big hand through her hair as she does the same for Havyn. He looks down at her and his eyes water with emotion and the moment. Jezebel returns his look and turns her head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand before turning back to kiss the top of Havyn’s head. Jet finally moves forward and Jezebel holds out a hand to him, clasping one of his as tightly as she can, giving him an encouraging smile, a smile of hope, before muttering words of encouragement to her daughter.
“It’s okay sweetie. That was one hell of a dream, but mommy’s awake now.”