|Elisabeth Glorianna Braddock // Psylocke (shadow_lust) wrote in parabolical,|
@ 2008-09-04 00:00:00
|Entry tags:||elisabeth braddock, sam winchester|
A different kind of killer with a brand new initiative
WHO: Sam Winchester and Elisabeth Braddock.
WHAT: Elisabeth has no one to turn to and so she runs to Sam.
WHEN: Directly after her confrontation with Ryan (which is almost wrapped up).
WHERE: Sam and Dean (and others?) place.
RATING: M (she's hysteric and having a breakdown).
STATUS: COMPLETE - Half log, half thread.
Elisabeth was…she was…at a complete loss as to how she could even describe herself; broken, disgusted, tainted, justified, ill. She’d left the monster behind on the hotel, shadow-porting randomly and running the moment her feet touched the ground. She could narrow her location vaguely down to a wooded area, as shades of green flashed by in her peripheral. She had no idea how long she’d been running, or even when the sobbing began, but it all ceased as her body heaved the contents of her stomach out, forcing her to keel over a bush, supporting her weight on the nearest tree. She wasn’t sure if the animosity she felt was lingering from seeing Ryan or if it was now directed towards her. She held no regrets over punishing the kid, but she wasn’t exactly comfortable with the means she’d gone to achieve it.
Panting, she slowly slid her back down the tree, faintly aware of the scraping pain through her semi-numb state. Elisabeth didn’t know who to turn to in this moment of desperation. She certainly couldn’t go home yet, assured that they would someone know what she had done, as if they would smell the sin on her skin. She feared their judgment; afraid they wouldn’t hear her reasoning out and shun her. She couldn’t go to Gabriel, for the very same reason and more. If he saw her in the wrong, surely he’d never touch her again for what she’d almost done. And Remy was out of the question. Not only were they on terse terms, she didn’t have it in her to face him with any more issues than they currently had.
Weakly, she extracted her cell phone and dialed Sam’s number. The hunter and not the Cylon, because even he, she felt, would not understand. Hell, Elisabeth had no guarantee that this Sam would, but he was the only person she could risk sharing this with. For now. And if it meant losing him as a friend in the end...that was a bridge she would cross when it built itself. She slumped over in the grass, resting the phone to her ear and waiting, praying, for him to answer.