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by: Kara Viridian
#13225
June 15th, 2012
1:30 p.m.


The announcement just echoed through the halls of the manor and Kara took a little bit over forty-five minutes to get organized and collect her thoughts. Quick flashes of things like London offices and voices…a woman…conversations that she could hardly make out, were coming to her and it was overwhelming. Kara pinched her nose and waited for all of that to pass. The Devil, she knew. These were parts of the legilimens, side-effects of sorts. She’d extracted the information about Tristan, inadvertently pulling the culprit behind Jace’s alleged killer from the Devil’s mind, but as she’d been out of practice with the spell, it seemed she pulled more from that mutant vigilante than she really wanted. Or maybe she did so on purpose, on accident; maybe she took more because her mate needed more than the name and face of her brother to go off of.

Fuck, her head hurt.

When she felt the pain in her joints, though mostly radiating from her twice-broken knee, she figured with this down-time it would be best to see Diana in the infirmary. With Jace visiting with the pack for a little while—and the only plans she’d made for the day were to reunite with him after they were both done with work—Kara figured she’d fill the time with an easy errand before retreating to her room.

Kara hadn’t seen Jon yet, but Jaleth assured Kara that he would be overseen yet undisturbed bar the daily checkups and shift changes from the rotation of healers scheduled in the suite. Kara made the slow trek down the hall, giving a couple of the folks in the commons a nod. They smiled and waved back, which, after her announcement about the state of the Order, was a relief. She didn’t see many others on her way to the infirmary, and when she arrived, Diana was there, perched in a chair by his bed.

She was reading a book, her blue eyes skimming over the small print on the book pages. Diana looked up at Kara when she entered, and after she found a good place to stop, she shoved her bookmark into the binding fold of the novel before carefully closing it tight. “Ms. Viridian…”

“We’ve been through this, Di.”

“Kara.”

The scarred one just smiled, thin, but a smile nonetheless, and she nodded at the young girl. “Thank you. And please, don’t get up on my account.”

Diana shook her head, “Jaleth and I were to meet for lunch shortly anyway.” She slowly transferred her gaze from Kara to Jon, and back again. “I think it’s best if I give you a moment alone."

Kara wanted to protest; She hadn’t been alone with her friend yet, and part of her had been dreading this moment. Still, she couldn’t keep Diana from leaving if she needed to stretch her legs, somewhere beyond the walls of this stuffy infirmary. “Please thank Jaleth for me…and of course, thank you. For everything, Diana. Your work isn’t unnoticed, believe me. You’ve done tremendous work here in such a short amount of time and now…” Her voice trailed off, but Diana placed her hand on Kara’s shoulder, gently squeezing it to reassure her.

“I know.” Diana offered a warm smile, and left the room.

Once she was alone, Kara proceeded into the room. She cracked open the window, taking in the sweet summer air, fresh with floral scent from the trees outside and a breeze that was soothing on her skin. She waited a moment before turning back to Jon in his bed. Her insides wrenched as she twirled, that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach from the bitter reality that Jon was unconscious, alive but not awake, a battered mess hooked to tubes and machines that she didn’t quite recognize.

Another deep breath in…then out.

She didn’t dare sit. Not yet. Not just yet.
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by: Kara Viridian
#13290
About ten minutes of complete silence passed. Machinery here functioned similar to what she’d seen in the muggle realm, but they were still fairly quiet in comparison. They were pumping the potions and medication to sustain him, and she lost herself in a daze watching it all as it worked. As one would do in times like these, Kara thought back to times she spent with her dear friend. Some were distant—like meeting him in school and then reuniting with him after graduation, and all of the times he helped her when times were tough. Other memories, the harder ones, were more recent—like the arguments she had with him over Jace’s attack on the manor or how overprotective he was being with her. Kara felt her heart sink. Nothing could prepare her for this, but she just wished she could have reconciled with him before nearly losing him.

More time passed as she fidgeted, finally taking a seat in Diana’s chair. She didn't know what to say, but she just started speaking.

"You'd be so proud of her, Jonny...You’d be so proud at how she’s handling things." Kara laughed, but her eyes were stinging, but there were still no tears. She hadn't cried a drop since before her attack, and she was convinced her eyes were just dried up. She nervously fidgeted in her chair, sitting with her knees tight and her hands clasped. Her thumb scraped and picked at the inside of her palm as she stared beyond him. Kara couldn’t let her gaze linger too long, it was too painful. ”She healed me up quite well, Jace too…more than once. The others from the other night, too. They’re back in their own rooms, walking the grounds. She’s learned so much from you.”

Kara turned her eyes downward and focused on her hands, a focal point to keep her grounded and not lose hold of her emotions that were swirling rampantly in the pit of her stomach. She sighed. ”Shadow—she told me everything. What happened out there, at your place, the car accident…You know, she’s worried about you too, so you better wake up. She told me you put up one hell of a fight. You did the right thing, you stubborn bastard,” She laughed, shaking her head slowly. Shadow's account included everything. The words exchanged with the Devil during his interrogation, the use of what Jaleth discovered as veritaserum--"You're not even awake for me to scold you about using the bloody serum on a muggle...or whatever the hell he is..." She sighed. Shadow also explained that Jon helped him escape after the Devil started showcasing some strange behavior. Everything leading up to the car accident was a blur, mostly because Kara couldn't hear much else in her broken state of mind.

Her sorrowful gaze settled on him again. ”We have so much left to do here and I can’t do this without you.”
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by: Kara Viridian
#15228
~*~*~*~


"It'll be okay, bud. Why don't you come home with me this Christmas? Mom and dad'll love you, and Tommy'll freaking worship you."

Matt gave Tris a lopsided grin and leaned against him briefly, trying to help his friend feel better after the exposition of Tris feeling abandoned. Matt had a taste of that, himself, but he'd already agreed to try and make amends with dad for mum's sake. If it would help Tris, then maybe including him in the family would be best. After all, Tristan was his brother, and he'd do anything to help the lug feel like he belonged.

~*~*~*~


"Oh, fuck, no, no, no call the strike off!"

Too late. The scream of the American A-10s coming over the ridge line pierced Matt's ears as he watched in horror. He was too slow in identifying the Arabic troop two klicks away in the valley, about to meet God. His squad had called in an air strike on friendlies. Shit. SHIT. The rippling smoke served as a testament to how big of a tits up their C/O had committed. The Afghani police force squad was no more, and the Royal troop was sober in their realization of what had just happened.

~*~*~*~


Kara gasped, jerking awake and searching for air to fill her lungs. Jeez--shit--holy Merlin--what... She was stunned, her eyes wide open now. As her eyes adjusted, she stared straight ahead, blinking to clear the blur that came with her sudden wake. Where was she? Kara was half-awake, and she found herself searching for Jace, gripping tight to the armrests of the chair she'd been seated in, instead of the bed she'd been asleep in through the night before. She breathed in to call for him, wondering if he was nearby, but the sterile smell of herbs and chemical concoctions filled her nose. Unfamiliar to her room, but known well enough that she exhaled. So she was in the infirmary suite. But...Who was she? Her tremulous hands felt over her body: her neck, her breasts, her stomach and thighs and back up again. She curled her palm around the back of her neck as she suffered a slight whiplash and rolled it from side to side to stretch it out. The flat sole of her ballet slip-on shoe slipped against the lacquer of the laminate tile in the room, but she caught herself and put her foot flat on the ground, kicking up to sit upright in the cushioned chair at Jon's bedside. Jon... His breathing intake was quiet but the hiss of his exhale through the small tube made her heart sink again, as if she'd just seen this for the first time. Jon was in a coma, she remembered. Jon was in a car accident after putting himself on the line for the Devil, and the Devil left him this way?

"Choir boy..." A shimmer of another vision in the past, followed by laughter in a bunker full of Royal Marines, echoed in her head. Kara reached up and tried to calm the storm in her mind as a chill ran through her entire body. She was already having trouble discerning herself from the other, a terrible side-effect of not using the Legilimens as often as she used to, as she was out of practice. She wasn't Matt Cox. She wasn't a Royal Marine. She was Kara Viridian. Dammit... her head hurt, throbbing and swirling as she'd been overwhelmed.

Kara had fallen asleep after reading a couple of chapters out of Diana's book. Before she drifted, she remembered reading aloud to Jon, clinging to that hope that he would somehow hear her, or maybe even respond to her voice, but nothing happened. The book had fallen out of her lap and onto the floor. She quickly retrieved it and placed it on the counter before standing beside her friend, peering down at him. He was peaceful, at least. Swollen eyes to match the purple bruises where he'd been hit, small scabs already formed a thick, purple crusted shell over the cuts where the shattered glass had ripped apart his flesh. A dark necklace of black and blue formed at his collar, the broken bones re-forming under the mold Diana and the healers had set just days before. His dark hair was matted, his broken spectacles on the table beside the book she'd placed down. Kara focused on the rise and fall of his chest, giving her some reassurance that he was still alive...

"Jon..." She whispered, "Please come back."
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