|Margaret "Molly" Katherine Amanda Carpenter (ragged_lady) wrote in reality_crisis,|
@ 2012-06-26 07:34:00
|Entry tags:||!status: complete, carlos ramirez, erik lehnsherr, molly carpenter, peter petrelli|
Were it not that I had bad dreams (Magneto, Peter, Carlos)
Molly needed some space. A little alone time to think over the things Erik had told her. The differences between him and Harry were staggering, even if she did kind of look at both of them in the same light. Sort of. She didn’t have the mega-crush on Erik that she’d held for Harry. Just a little one. But Erik, like Harry, never seemed to look at her that way, and Molly was used to not acting on her crush. There were similarities in the advice they gave her, but not in this one, crucial area. Carlos. Or any guy, really.
Harry had kept her from pursuing any sort of physical or emotional relationship until she had her magics under control. There had been good reasons for that since emotions and mental magics were her specialties. She’d already screwed up once that way, and if she wanted to keep her head on her shoulders, and Harry’s, she needed to not screw up again. That was a long time ago, however and once she gained control he hadn’t actively stopped her from dating. From there it had just been a natural course of events. Ahem.
Then came Chichén-Itzá and Harry’s death. Molly’s world hadn’t been the same after that. Hell, Molly hadn’t been the same for as much damage as her psyche had taken experiencing the death of each and every Red Court vampire on a personal level. As if that hadn’t been bad enough she’d had a hand in setting up Harry’s assassination, and then his wicked faerie godmother took up her training in Harry’s place. There wasn’t a single bit of the Leanansidhe that was sympathetic or tender. She was of the opinion that starvation was a great motivator, and that was when Molly became The Ragged Lady.
She wasn’t entirely a sane young woman. She did what had to be done to keep the streets of Chicago safe since Harry Dresden wasn’t there to do it anymore, and she didn’t really care what methods she used against the bad guys. She’d use perceptions against the good guys if it would prod them into doing things. Some of what she did was illusions which were perfectly acceptable, but sometimes she had to resort of mental manipulations and if it got the desired result, fuck it.
All the while Molly still suffered. Nightmares were her biggest bane. Sometimes they happened while she was awake her mind slipped back to Chichén-Itzá where she would be surrounded by the Reds, their all black eyes in their bat-like faces which held sharp fangs that slashed at her. Their rubbery bodies and their bulbous abdomens touching her, making her feel unclean and sick. Sometimes in these nightmares her family was there being slaughtered in front of her. Sometimes it was Harry. Never her. Sometimes when she was especially hungry, tired and hurting from whatever lesson Lea felt she needed to learn that day the nightmares came to her while she was awake. PTSD some people called it. She’d slip back to Chichén-Itzá with all the fear and blood and panic. Lea would talk her through it more because it annoyed the sidhe, but it was never a fun ride.
Molly wasn’t thinking of any of this as she wandered through the faery forest outside of the community she and Erik had created outside the walls of die Festung. No, her mind was turning over a certain kiss with a certain Warden of the White Council who Erik was encouraging her to encounter more often under such conditions. Well, more controlled conditions. She had been exhausted and caught off guard. Her control over her mental and emotional magics had slipped blending her reactions with Carlos’. He hadn’t noticed. That was bad! Erik’s suggestion was that it was a weakness to be exploited and she’d better get a handle on it quickly. Ergo, more kissing. Gah!
She wasn’t paying too close attention as she wandered. They’d made deals with the fae in the vicinity. She thought she’d be all right, but somehow in her musings she’d wandered out of friendly territory. She didn’t realize it until she heard the second or third raspy hiss. That sound registered in her mind as VERY BAD which gave her a harsh poke in the form of one of her more blinding headaches to get her attention. Blinking back into reality she frowned, turning in place to figure out what had gotten through that had her heart racing like a cornered rabbit and put a stab of icy cold fear in her chest. That was when she saw the first one slink out from behind a tree.
They weren’t the Red Court. She could tell that immediately, but they didn’t need to be. Their faces were bumpy and their fangs were more than prominent. Molly had never seen vampires like this before, but it didn’t matter to her head. Vampires were vampires apparently and with an internal scream her mind sent her straight back to Chichén-Itzá.
She was surrounded again. (There were maybe half a dozen.) Somehow she’d been separated from everyone else. (They were keeping their distance for now, but they recognized weakness when they saw it.) Thomas. Mouse. Murphy. She couldn’t see them as she tried her best to keep the Reds off of her with her One Woman Rave. (Without her even moving a muscle the forest came alive with loud, throbbing sounds and rapidly pulsing lights of every color that blinded and distracted.) It worked for the most part, but some got through, swiping at her with their claws in hopes of catching her, pull her in to drain her dry. (It worked until one managed to get through on pure dumb luck and grabbed a hold of Molly’s arm when it bumped into her.) Whenever that happened her instincts kicked in, veiling her so she could worm free and reappear someplace else. (Not The Ragged Lady. As soon as she realized her predicament she reacted with a kinetic blast sending the vampire flying backwards to connect with a tree, but then another took advantage of her distraction, snatching at her hair.)
She didn’t even notice when the bullet tore through her thigh. There had been no pain, just an increasing weariness. Hold on! Have to hold on for Harry! (That thought pulsed out on Repeat complete with absolute panic, slapping into any mind she had touched before.) Darkness began to creep in on the edges of her vision, but she fought it back. Harry needed more time. The spell hadn’t gone off yet. But there were so many of them! Then she felt one grab her hair and she shrieked as she saw fangs going for her neck. Thomas was suddenly there pulling the Red off of her, but her leg stopped working and she crumpled to the ground where she curled up to give Harry’s brother room to work.
(Another kinetic blast freed her of the vampire, but she felt the phantom pain in her leg which gave out beneath her. She curled up into a tight ball, her magics reacting on survival mode and encasing her in a shield that the vampires pounded against to get through. It wouldn’t last. In her panic she was wasting energy by pouring it all out in a flood into the shield and the sound and light show that was only being sort of effective anymore. The vampires had managed to get to her. Now that they had her cornered all they had to do was wait. Molly’s mind knew this and threw more energy into a strong mental and emotional summoning.) NOOOOOO!!!! PLEASE GOD, HELP MEEEE!!!
It reached any mind she had touched here, but poor Harry was struck hard. They had spent a lot of time in and out of each other’s mind during lessons so that when Molly’s S.O.S went out in desperate strength he was entirely unprepared for what his godmother had created and honed in his pupil’s abilities. She hit him like a ton of bricks and he fell onto his face in the apartment he shared with Murphy. Erik and Carlos might sport some wonderful headaches, but fortunately for them she wasn’t as familiar with their mindscapes.