Miriam D'Onofrio (lady_miriam) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2020-10-19 22:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | #group scene, #may 2018, anthony, james, miriam |
Who: James & Miriam and then Anthony
Where: Witcham Road
When: Early May
Status: Complete
James was not used to feeling so helpless. Of course life was bigger than him and he'd known that one day it would kick his ass like it did with everyone else but it was too soon for it to happen now. His wife was gone. Whatever hope he'd had of getting her back had died after he spoke with Anthony D'Onofrio and gained more information about where she was exactly. Magic didn't work over there and the place was overrun with monsters. He was certain Brianna was dead. She was physically fit and more stubborn than anyone he'd ever known but what good did that do in a place like that?
After this realization he'd drifted, completely unlike himself. His mother had come to Point Pleasant and taken over the household and he didn't have it in him to refuse that help nor could he really stomach being home much while she was there trying to dictate everyone's behavior. Brianna would be furious with him and he knew it; their kids were adrift - his mother made sure he knew just how disobedient and crazy they were being - and he was doing a terrible job as a father. They didn't listen to her, he needed to be home more and take the reins. James just couldn't find it in him to care for a long time. He was grieving. His marriage had its ups and downs and they'd fought more than not right before Brianna went missing. She'd drained his energy those last days, the kids' too, but James was finding it hard to imagine marrying someone else. Everywhere he went now he compared the women he saw to Brianna. Some came close but none of them were her.
Trip had come home for all of two weeks before fleeing back so James supposed he was in fact most like him out of all his kids. He just hoped he was coping better than James was because James was drinking too much these days and when he did go to his favorite clubs, he didn't play anymore and he always went back to his hotel alone. The only thing in his life that wasn't suffering was his work. He poured himself into it and took on more cases than was necessarily healthy, anything to keep his mind off his current situation.
It wasn't until late in April that he finally asked his mother to leave. She'd stayed too long, McCarthy Senior was getting antsy with her gone, Sebastian and Ophelia were more than ready to be rid of her and so was James. "We'll be fine," he told her and the more she protested the colder he got until she realized there was no room for argument.
This meant James had to stay home more. Technically. He didn't think it mattered much at this point, his kids were doing whatever the hell he wanted and it felt too late to put his foot down and try to establish some sort of rules again. So he let them do whatever they wanted to do and then did the same for himself. He spent more and more time at the country club and Dragonfly when he wasn't working, working too much in the day working out too much in the mornings and afternoon, drinking too often at night. It was a weird balance of healthy and absolutely not healthy.
Staying home more didn't mean he never went out of town, he just didn't stay as long these days because what was the point in that if he wasn't having any fun. It was a Saturday afternoon in early May when he was driving back from Portland, a lengthy and boring drive. It was somewhat uplifting to be near the town and he figured he'd call the kids and pick up some takeout if they were home. He doubted they'd be home, if he was honest with himself and he had no idea where they might be if that was the case. He was about to dial Phee's number when he spotted someone walking down the road and out here on Witcham that just wasn't a good idea in general to be walking. It was obviously not a tourist type of person, no luggage or anything and as he got closer his stomach clenched in discomfort. Whoever this was was not right. Filthy and awful looking, like one of the worst kinds of hobos out of a shitty movie, possibly worse. Had he been in the city he would have stepped on the gas because that kind of person wasn't someone he'd ever want to associate with but out here on Witcham Road... He stepped on the brake instead, coming to a stop a few feet behind the woman and staring intently at her in the rearview mirror.
Miriam knew her name and even that she didn’t completely trust. Miriam Kemp sounded right but wrong and her brain couldn’t figure out why. It was as big a mystery as the filth that coated her skin, months of grime and muck that she desperately wanted to shower off. A shower sounded divine. It was her only driving force, to get somewhere she could get clean, but her final destination was still foggy. When she’d woken in the forest, she’d been cold and wet and completely out of sorts, unable to decide what to do, but as soon as she found the road she started walking. Roads led to places with showers.
It never occurred to her to wave to the car and hail for a ride, but when the car that passed her screeched to a stop, Miriam turned to look. Her brain registered certain facts, but not others— it was a nice car, expensive, and a recent year… she thought. What year was it even? It felt like spring, but where? Miriam took a few hesitant steps towards the car, trying to decide if that was a safe move or not. In another life, she would’ve known exactly what to do, but words and actions failed her today. Her brain felt scrambled, unable to compute the way it once had. No matter how hard she tried to grasp at her past, it evaded her.
As she got closer, James got a better look at her and he gave up on the mirror and craned his neck to see her better. It felt like his heart dropped to his stomach and the heartbeat reverberated all over his torso. It was Miriam D'Onofrio, back from hell it seemed but alive. She might still be Wrong somehow but James didn't much care. He knew what to look for now, if he started getting tired he'd ditch her but right now he just wanted to know where Brianna was. He got out of the car and circled it, ready to catch her if she crumbled because she looked like she might just do that. "Miriam," he said, his voice pure shock. He was happy to see her, Anthony would be out of his mind no doubt and he had to call him as soon as possible, but there was also some small frustration there. It should have been his wife. It should have been Brianna.
It was when he got out of the car that Miriam started to back up, fear jolting through her paired with the desire to flee. The man didn’t look threatening, but looks could be deceiving and something inside her told her to beware. Fear was healthy. Fear was what had kept her alive. But then he said her name, the one and only thing she could recall, and Miriam froze. “How do you know me?” she asked, her voice gravelly and dry. She licked her lips and tried again. “Who are you? Where am I?” She had a hundred other questions, but those seemed like a good place to start. Once she’d figured that much out, maybe she could go from there. Miriam hoped that something might jog her memory a bit, but until then all she had to go on was fog.
Her obvious apprehension made James pause and he kept a few feet between them for now, raising his hands in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "I'm James McCarthy, I'm a friend of your husband's. You know my wife, Brianna." God he hoped that jolted something in her head into remembering because he needed to know if Brianna was alive. If she was near here he would have to find her."You're right outside your home town; Point Pleasant, I can take you home."
Nothing he said sounded vaguely familiar except for that one name—Brianna. It tugged at Miriam’s memories, conjuring a place of darkness and nightmares, all fear and no rest. She tried to picture the woman, but struggled, something that annoyed her more than anything else. It felt like the memory was there, just right out of reach, but wrapped up in a layer of pain and terror that she was unable to crack open. “My husband. What’s his name?” she asked, brows drawn together in thought. She wasn’t eager to be taken “home” to a strange man she didn’t remember, but maybe hearing his name would jog her memory a bit.
"Anthony D'Onofrio," James said and fished his phone out of his pocket - slowly so she wouldn't panic about him reaching for a weapon or something. She looked unsteady and not just physically at the moment. It didn't take him long to find a picture of Anthony with Miriam online and he stepped closer, holding his phone up for her to see. "You have two children together, Caius and Sera. Your daughter goes to school with my kids." Maybe this was too much information all at once but she'd find out sooner than later and James didn't believe in coddling. "Anthony may be able to help you get your memory back."
Not only did she have a husband, she had kids. Hearing their names should have done something for Miriam, but none of it was ringing a bell. She couldn’t have even guessed how old they were. It was all very discouraging and Miriam latched on to the last bit, curious. “How would he do that?” she asked, still cautious about going into this blind. He seemed to know her, and he seemed safe, but all her instincts were on red alert for reasons she couldn’t explain. “Is he a doctor?” Miriam didn’t like doctors. She didn’t trust them, hadn’t since she was a little girl. It was weird to imagine that she might have married one.
James smiled faintly as he put his phone away. "No," he replied and hesitated a beat as he wondered just how much to tell her. She didn't seem to be raving mad or anything, she just didn't remember and maybe the more details she had the more likely she was to get her memory back. "He's a witch," he told her calmly, well aware that it might sound crazy to her if she truly had no recollection of her life but at least he was in a position where he could prove to her that witches were in fact real no matter how reluctant he might be to do that.
Miriam was prepared to go with James—the picture of her with another man was fairly convincing—but she stopped in her tracks when he said her husband was a witch. It brought to mind pointy hats and black cauldrons, images that she couldn’t place, but also felt false. It was hard to reconcile such a fantasy with her husband. “A witch,” she said, reluctant to proceed. “And he can help me with my memory?” If witches were real, they could be worse than doctors. The idea of someone messing with her head set off all kinds of alarm bells, even without a reference as to why. “Tell me about your wife,” she said instead. “Brianna.”
"I hope so," James sighed at her first question. He didn't know if Anthony could meddle with that kind of thing but many witches focused on healing so they would find someone who could, he had no doubt about that. "Brianna is a force to be reckoned with," he replied then. "Like two of our children she has fiery red hair and a personality to match. Great deal of fire in her, for that matter." He knew magic didn't work on the other side which was why he'd been convinced his wife was dead so he didn't mention that she too was a witch, if Miriam only remembered the other side, she would not have seen that part of Brianna. "She was- is a real estate agent, she helped your son with his property. The two of you have always been quite influential in town."
Miriam wasn’t sure she knew Brianna the real estate agent, but the fiery redhead rang a bell. She could picture her, sitting on the floor beside her, the two of them speaking in hushed voices. She couldn’t remember what they were speaking about, but the memory made her cold, dread leaking in that had no place in this world of light. There was so much damn light. “She was with me. In that place,” Miriam said, taking a couple steps closer to James. “Where is she now? Is she here?” It was disorienting only having shadows for memories, bits and pieces that didn’t seem to click with the world around them. When she’d woken up, she’d had nothing, but Brianna was clear in her mind now and she’d have felt better if she could see a familiar face.
James felt a weird mix of hope and disappointment flaring up at that question. He really had hoped Miriam knew where she was but with the amnesia and the confusion he supposed that was too much to ask for. "I was hoping she'd be with you," he admitted, pulling his phone back out to find a picture of Brianna. "This is her?" he asked as he showed Miriam the phone again. If it was up to him she'd be in his car already so he could take her home and let Anthony deal with her but he wasn't about to drag her kicking and screaming with him and his magic did not extend to making people pliable. So he took this at her pace and hoped seeing Brianna's face might trigger more memories. "Do you remember when you last saw her?" If it was recent, there was still hope and it was hard not to go looking right away, yelling her name in the woods. Would she also suffer the same confusion as Miriam or was this a trauma response? He hoped Brianna would be okay, that she'd remember him and the kids at the very least.
Miriam nodded as she looked at the picture, sure it was Brianna even if she’d looked far worse when she last saw her. They all had, she remembered, even if the they in there was vague. There was a cop too, she thought, along with some others that she could only vaguely picture in the back of her mind. “That’s her,” she confirmed. “She was with me in that place. We… We were hiding together. In a house maybe? I don’t have a good perception of time, but she was with me.” It could have been yesterday or it could have been months ago. Without her memories to reference, time meant nothing. She couldn’t even say how she got from there to here, only that this was better. And she was hungry. Her throat had never been so dry. “I’d like to go home now,” she said, and walked over to James’s car, assuming that he would take her there, wherever it was. He knew better than she did, which was unsettling, but it was better than walking down the road to nowhere.
James felt a rush of relief when she headed for the car. Under any other circumstances he wouldn't have let anyone this filthy anywhere near his Lexus but this was Miriam and the sooner she remembered what had happened to Brianna, the better. Since he had his phone in hand he took the chance to fire off a quick text to Anthony.
Found Miriam. Bringing her home. Be there.
For all he knew Anthony was still at the office but if he left now he'd be home before James got there. He just hoped Sera was out with friends or this would get really emotional and weird right off the bat and that was likely too overwhelming for Miriam to deal with in her current state. He pocketed his phone again and walked to the car, opening the back at first to grab a bottle of gatorade from his bag. It was warm by now and the bottle wasn't full but it was better than nothing. "Here," he said, offering it to Miriam as he got into the driver's seat. "You look like you could use something to drink."
Anthony wasn't at the office, but he wasn't home either when he received James's text message. Found Miriam. Bringing her home. Be there. Found Miriam. The words at first drew confusion and then a sense of settling acceptance, rather than shock. Miriam was home. Almost immediately he wanted to know where James had found her. How? Was she still capable of draining people to the point of death? And of course James would send a text rather than call. But at least in this circumstance, Anthony was grateful for it.
"I have to go," he told Veronica. She was laying in bed, watching him curiously. He nearly told her Miriam was back, but he didn't have the time now to explain, especially when he had no real answers himself. But Veronica being Veronica didn't question him and instead sat up where she accepted his kiss before he turned, grabbed his wallet and keys and left the bedroom.
His finger was already calling James's cell when he stepped out of the house and began to walk the short distance back to his own home. He needed to call Caius, but... not yet. When the other man didn't answer, Anthony cursed. He nearly sent a text, but decided to leave it for now. He would get home and wait for James there. James and Miriam.
Miriam took the offered gatorade and drank half of it down in one go. She was thirsty enough that she'd have finished it off, but her stomach rebelled at the notion and she held onto the bottle as a wave of nausea passed. How long had it been since she'd had something to drink? It felt like years, though she knew that couldn't be possible. She closed her eyes, for a good part of the drive, doing her best to recall something about her former life. It was a fruitless endeavor, but the fact that she remembered something about where she'd been gave her hope. If she could remember that much, maybe the rest would come back to her, given enough time.
It was a quiet drive, James was not given to small talk and Miriam appeared to him a little zoned out. There was a lot to process so he'd leave her to it. He'd hoped seeing the town might spark some recognition in her and then Overlook but if it did she made no sign of it and he wondered if Brianna was the same, if she was alive out there, confused and lost, walking the wrong way. He felt cold grip his insides at the thought and tried to wave it away and focus at the here and now. Getting Miriam home, then he'd try a location spell to see if he could find Brianna; he was likelier to find her that way than marching through the woods yelling her name even if his instincts were screaming at him the opposite.
Miriam watched out the window as they drove through town, but nothing seemed even vaguely familiar. As the houses got nicer, she started to have the feeling that she belonged there, but that was more a matter of opinion than memory. The house James pulled up in front of was one of the nicest she’d seen so far, which was satisfying at least. If it was hers. “I live here?” she asked, looking to James for confirmation. All she could think of was finding the shower. She’d never been more disgusted with her appearance in her life; she knew this to be true, even if she couldn’t recall the majority of it.
Anthony had managed to clean himself up enough to be presentable when he heard the car pull up outside. Instinct told him to call Caius, but that would have to wait until he got a look at his wife. One, to make sure she was okay and two... to make sure she was actually his wife. In this town, not everyone was as they seemed. He opened the front door immediately and walked down the path towards James McCarthy's car. Through the windshield he could see a woman, no doubt his wife, pale and filthy. Anthony paused, not wanting to crowd her by opening her door. If this was truly Miriam, she had likely been through quite an ordeal and there would no doubt be side effects from it.
"She doesn't remember anything," James said just loud enough for Anthony to hear once he'd gotten out of the car and closed the door behind him. He felt like his face was etched into a serious expression as he walked around the car, but the look he gave Anthony wasn't completely void of empathy. "She doesn't remember you," he added with a small shake of his head before opening the door for Miriam. He'd already confirmed that yes, she lived here, but he was more than ready for her to freeze up and demand to be taken elsewhere. A hospital would be the next step but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Miriam stared at the house and then the man that came out of it, willing herself to remember something of value. Nothing came. Not some glimmer of a memory, a little fragment to grab hold of like a lifeline, nothing. The man could have been her husband, or some stranger set on holding her prisoner and torturing her. She wasn’t even sure why such a thought occurred to her. That he was supposedly a witch didn’t help… but that house in the background and the promise of a shower had enough draw for her to open the door. Miriam climbed out of the car and looked at the men, trying to read their expressions. Even though she was feeling her worse, she didn’t like the idea of being pitied. “Hello,” she said to the man who was supposedly her husband. What was his name again? This was something she should know.
She doesn't remember anything. Anthony blinked in surprise but schooled his expression quickly. He didn't think to mention that in his text? And what did James mean... she didn't remember what happened to her? She didn't remember who she was? What was the extent of this? As Miriam approached him, Anthony studied her. He had never seen Miriam so filthy, so pale. It was so strange to see her again, but he was relieved that she was all right. "Hello," he replied, the corner of his lips turning upward briefly. "James says you don't remember anything? Do you know who you are?" He thought of Caius, losing his memories of Reagan. That had been such an intricate problem, though not one that would ruin his life had he never gotten them back. If Miriam's entire memory was blotted out... well, he would have to think of how to fix it.
“Miriam,” she said. That part she was sure of. “Miriam… Kemp?” Was that her married name or the one she was born with? Miriam watched her husband’s expression for a sign of recognition, but the man was hard to read. He didn’t seem overly emotional or even relieved to see her, but that might be because James had filed him in on her lack of memory. Still, she wondered—was she really married to this man? He seemed so cold. Then again, she looked like shit, and probably smelled like it too. “How long have I been gone?” she asked suddenly. Maybe it had just been hours—no, she was sure it was longer. Her memories of that place, foggy as they were, were of days passing. Weeks. All of them holed up together in— “Juniper,” she said aloud, turning to James. “Brianna and I and—and the cop. And some others. She was alive, last I saw her.”
Anthony was well aware of how he might come across to a woman who didn't know him. He wasn't one to express his emotions, at least not outwardly. And what good would it do a woman who had no idea who he was beyond what James McCarthy had told her? "Kemp was your maiden name," Anthony said, a smile forming on his lips. "The fact that you can remember that is a good sign. Perhaps everything else is coming to the surface as well. You've been gone since January so about four months." His gaze ticked to James. "Brianna... I assume you'll be checking to see if she's returned too. There may be others out there wandering."
James nodded, somewhat relieved for the out. Since he doubted he was any comfort to Miriam being a stranger too and all he headed straight back for the car. "I'll be in touch," he said. "Welcome home, Miriam. I hope you find it easy to adjust." It was niceties at best, it was hard to care about Anthony and Miriam's reunion when his own wife was still missing and his family was in shambles.
Four months was a long time, long enough that Miriam suspected they’d given up on finding her. Again, she thought that if Anthony were her husband, he should be more excited to see her, but then she couldn’t imagine marrying a man that would’ve broken down in tears at the sight of her. And he was in front of a peer, so she tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Thank you for your help,” she told James as he headed for his car. “I hope you find her.” If she was still alive. Miriam didn’t remember much, but the more she thought of that other world, the more she remembered the danger. There were no specifics, not yet, but she was absolutely positive that some of them had died over there.
Anthony nodded to James before holding out his hand to Miriam. "Let's get you inside. I'm assuming you'll want a shower and something to eat. Should I call a doctor? Are you hurt?" He was looking her over again, searching for any obvious sign of injury though it was hard to tell with the muck and grime coating her body. He could only imagine what she had gone through, but she was alive. Of course she was. His wife had always been strong and stubborn. "I'll try to answer any questions you have but I want you to be comfortable first."
“I think I’m okay,” Miriam said, her brow furrowing as she did a mental inventory. Nothing hurt, though her ankle was a little bit sore, like she might have twisted it sometime in the recent past. It didn’t prevent her from walking though, so it didn’t seem worth mentioning. Her skin itched, though she thought that was probably due to the muck that coated her skin. “I would kill for a shower,” she said with a little huff. “But yes, I’m hungry. I can’t remember the last time I ate.” It was a hard decision which to do first, but she felt a little too filthy to eat without somehow transferring the dirt to her food.
Anthony smiled, wishing he could reach out and brush some of her filthy hair away from her face, but he had no idea if she would want a man who was essentially a stranger to touch her. "Of course, you can have both. I can show you the shower, and where your clothes are. While you're cleaning up, I'll make you something to eat." He gestured for her to follow him towards the stairs. "You... have children. Two of them. Caius and Sera. They've both been worried sick about you. I would like to call Caius to let him know you've been found. Would that be all right?" Anthony didn't want to overwhelm her, but he knew his son well enough to know he might be upset if Anthony sat on this news for more than a few hours.
Miriam looked around as they made their way into the house and up the stairs, pleased with what she saw. It seemed she lived comfortably, which was a relief, though what she wanted more than anything was to be clean, eat food, and sink into a deep sleep, hopefully in a bed that was as fine as everything else in the house. “James mentioned the children. How old are they?” she said, looking over at Anthony. Her heart ached at the thought of not knowing her own kids, whomever they were. “Of course you can call him. Just please warn him that I’m not myself. I don’t want to disappoint him.” And she wasn’t sure how she would handle an emotional reunion when she wasn’t feeling the emotions herself. It could be awkward, to say the least.
"Sera is seventeen. Caius is twenty eight. I promise you, he won't be disappointed about your state of mind. If anything, he'll be eager to help you." Anthony remembered Caius losing his own memories, how desperate he was to retrieve them. And he had been affected deeply by Miriam's disappearance. "This is our bedroom." He opened the door and led Miriam inside. "The master bath is that door over there. Your closet, and dresser." He motioned around before turning toward her. "Take as much time as you need, Miriam. I'll get some food ready for you. The most important thing is that your fed and get some rest. I'll ask the kids to leave you be for a while so you can get acclimated to your surroundings again."
Sera and Caius, seventeen and twenty-eight. A teenager and an adult. Miriam was relieved, certain that this would be jarring if they were still children. She was both eager to see them and nervous as well, most of all hoping that she'd remember something about them and herself by the time they saw each other. She gave the bedroom a once over, then turned towards Anthony. "Thank you. I'll be down as soon as I've cleaned up." He might not be the warmest of men, but she appreciated the fact that he was giving her her space right now. Hopefully a shower would help her feel like herself again. The memories might not be coming back fast, but even a trickle was better than nothing at all.
Anthony nodded and offered her a smile before he turned to leave. He had calls to make and some food to prepare. He was hoping, somewhat selfishly, that Miriam's memories would return to her soon. He wasn't entirely sure he had the patience to walk her through her life story. Maybe talking to Sera and Caius would help jog those old memories and once she got used to being here again, she could tell him about the place she had perished in months before.