James Hutchins (0roborus) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2020-12-27 11:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | celeste henry, james hutchins |
Something is Missing
Who: James and Celeste, Texts to Gabe, Fern, Shimmer
What: Meeting Up at ICU (Witch Hunter Plot)
When: Dec. 22, around 1AM
Where: Sunrise Hospital, Las Vegas
Ratings: Low
The chairs in the ICU waiting room were stiff and uncomfortable. The decor had been redone a few years back in pale blue and chocolate brown, the artwork a bunch of framed overlapping circles that were on-trend but didn’t mean anything. A coffee pot and styrofoam cups nestled next to a water station in one corner. Used magazines were stuffed in a wall organizer, next to rows of pamphlets on grief, privacy practices, and living wills.
James rubbed his forehead and stood up, his jacket lightly creaking as he walked around the empty waiting room. Outside, the view was the roof of another wing of the hospital and the parking garage. When he touched the glass, it was cold against his knuckles, like the weather outside. He could see his silhouette reflected back at him and a nurse walking from her station through the double doors of intensive care. A landline phone rang off the hook. He sat back down and leaned his elbows on his thighs. If he put his palms over his ears and pressed in hard, it muted the noise coming from the ringer.
Celeste steered James’s truck into an open parking spot and looked up at the hospital as she cut the engine. She took in a deep breath, trying to push aside her own feelings about what was happening so that she could be there for him, and stepped out of the cab. The brunette followed the signage leading to the waiting room.
Spotting James in the chair, she crossed the room quickly and took the seat next to him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “I’m so sorry,” Celeste murmured.
It was a relief not to be alone in the waiting room, but that kind of kindness when he was trying not to process anything was hard to manage, too. Every muscle in him was so tight it ached. James held still and took a couple of breaths. After a minute, he shifted to rest his forehead on her lap. He kept his fingers locked behind his head.
James mumbled, “My dad, Celeste. He got my dad.” The shame of it weighed almost as heavy as what happened to Sam.
The fingers of one hand nestled in his hair, the other swept over James’s back. Celeste had no idea what to say, or do. The waiting room was laden with sterile grief, making the space around them tight. “James,” she whispered, not letting go of him. Her eyes fell on an analog clock, the second hand twitching like a spider’s leg.
“Where is he now?”
“Down the hall,” he said, the words muffled. James sat up so he could talk to her. The effort to move reminded him of having the flu; after the adrenaline of wandering into the situation and responding to it wore off, no part of his body wanted to cooperate anymore. He sighed and made sure they were still alone. “He’s unresponsive. They checked him over. He’s got a lot of cuts and bruises and these burns.” James winced and pointed along his neck. “His vitals aren’t good but there's no internal bleeding. They don’t know what’s wrong with him. It’s like he can’t do anything by himself.”
Unbidden, an image of Sam popped up in her head, the man lying lifeless on the ground with the wounds that James had described. She shook her head microscopically, and took James’s hands in hers. “What can I do?” Celeste asked him. She felt she knew the answer before he even spoke it, and tried not to sink into the bottomless pit that was feeling helpless.
James shook his head. He rubbed his face in silence. Anger was rising in him, anger that he couldn’t direct into the dead kid who’d done something stupid, the monster he couldn’t put his hands on, or his mother for being vague with her premonitions. The only thing left to hate was himself for being useless when it mattered.
“I said we’d be strong enough for anything,” he said. James rearranged his boots under the chair. He was grateful Celeste hadn’t been there to see him fail so spectacularly at doing what was necessary. “I missed this. I tried to fix him and it didn’t work.”
“We are,” she told him, squeezing his hands. Celeste knew what James meant, but she also knew that whatever happened next would take a different kind of strength to get through. “It isn’t over.” She thought of all the knowledge that was out there, the infinity of it, and there had to be something, something to pull Sam back.
“Maybe it’s something he’s missing,” the brunette said aloud. “Whatever did this to him...what if it took a piece of Sam, or..?” She trailed off, worried she was only making it worse.
James sat back and closed his eyes. He nodded. It was a good idea. Worth looking into. He wished he had more information on the other witches and how they died, but the news reports were vague, which was usually a sign that the police were covering things up from the general public. Now he knew why. “Can you send texts to the other magic users we know?” he asked after a quiet moment. “Gabe, Fern? Just warn them. Tell them we’re looking into it. I sent pictures of the symbols to Izzy. She thinks she’s seen something like it before. Send something to Shimmer, too. Keep her away from the shop.”
Celeste nodded. “Of course.” She pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, unlocked it and opened up the texting app when something occurred to her. “Do you need me to contact Arnette, too?” She didn’t know if James had a chance to call her yet.
Shit. James opened his eyes and stared at the wall across from him. He didn’t know how much his mother knew and his phone had been quiet. The idea of talking to her after she sent that card made his stomach twist. He sat listening to the beeps and rings coming from the nurses’ station and the sound of soft-soled shoes on the clean floor. “This isn’t what I had in mind for introducing you two.” He put a hand on Celeste’s leg and gave it a grateful squeeze as he stood up. James breathed out and took out his phone, which he unlocked with his thumb. He had tossed the case and cleaned it off the best he could when he got to the hospital. He passed the device to Celeste, then took her hand and tugged it. Whatever parts of him wanted to shut down, or go somewhere and let out all this fury he was feeling, didn’t feel the same way about Celeste. She was the only person he’d let near it all. “Come here?”
She leaned against James, turning to press a kiss against his jaw before winding an arm through his. Being near him was steadying, and Celeste hoped she provided the same. With her other hand, she composed two careful, separate messages on the phone with her thumb:
To Gabe and Fern (individually): ‘Someone used a summoning spell (summoner dead). Creature attacking magic users. Four killed, one in ICU. Be on the lookout. -Celeste and James’
To Shimmer: ‘Stay away from Curiosities until you hear back from us. Dangerous. -Celeste and James’
There must have been some part of her on autopilot, because this wasn’t familiar territory at all, yet she somehow knew what to do. “I’m not going anywhere,” Celeste told James once she was finishing typing.
When she was done sending the text, James folded her into his arms. Like those long seconds when he called her and dreaded hearing her answer, it hit him again that this hurt Celeste, too. Sam was part of her life. The old witch had stuck around the shop and worked next to both of them, refusing to quit even when his son made it hard for him to stay. It was complicated between them. “I treat him like shit,” James admitted. “But he likes you.” He buried his face in her hair for a minute. Sam had known that Celeste thought well of him; there were a lot of unsaid things that James wasn’t sure Sam knew from his own kin. “I need to track down the doctor. You can go see him if you want to. I put you on the list. You don’t have to.” It wasn’t an easy thing to do.
She closed her eyes, trying to pretend for a moment that they weren’t at a hospital. If she concentrated on his arms around her, breathed in his scent, and focused only on his words, their surroundings blurred just enough. “I’ll go see him soon,” Celeste told James. “I just need this right now.”
He brought her in tight. As sick as he felt over what happened to his dad, he knew that kid could have gotten Celeste’s name out of Shannon just as easily, or showed up and waited outside of the Curiosities. James could be standing here clutching his dad while Celeste was down the hall or worse. Sam Hutchins was a long way from new to magic — the condition of his house proved it— and Sam would say he’d had a good, long run. The idea of what could happen to Celeste if she was caught unawares was a kick in the gut.
James’s throat started to close up again. He was getting closer to not being able to push it back down. “I love you,” he said roughly, giving her a quick kiss and backing out of the embrace. He went down the hall in search of someone who could give him an update.