Briony had been far, far too wired to sleep the night before. Yeah, there’d been all that fussing with emergency somethings and her parents picking her up, but generally the little Fear was still riding far too high on a wave of her own making to sleep. She pulled her family around in a merry circle all night, asking if she could sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s bed because she wouldn’t fit in Hayden’s, pleading with Paul to check the closet for ‘monsters’ and bursting into tears at random intervals. She plucked at every one of Airla’s fears that she was aware of – old and rather more recent – until Rachel had both arms wrapped around her. All Briony could really think at that point was how far she must have actually pushed the woman and just how uncomfortable she must be hugging her of all children.
Then Hayden went and put the icing on the cake by joining them, tears streaming down his face. This was the Best Weekend Ever. So far.
But with the family both so drained physically and emotionally – Briony was actually absolutely fine, she just looked a little like a warmed up corpse – no one was all that worried that they suddenly had another child. Rachel made a distracted enquiry, but all she got was an allegedly-sleepy “S’Bubbles from school,” deliberately slurred into one word, so what Rachel really heard was anyone’s guess. The little demon didn’t think she was listening. Nope. Danny-boy had them all. All except the important ones. Which was an ‘us’ in Briony’s mind. Head tilted slightly, she examined Bubbles’ Mary Janes, then frowned at her own toes. How the other demon could wear them, she didn’t know, but she would have been about to send yet another pair of her own to the dumpster if she’d had to wear them again. By kicking the pew in front. Daniel said she could put holes in them if she wanted! It was always satisfying to feel that thud while she swung her legs – which she’d been trying her best not to do since Airla died. Even though the stupid scaredy screaming human was the reason she wanted to. But Rachel had given into her ‘traumatised’ demands for her sandals, then the further demands that she be allowed to wear something more sensible to church because it was too hot. The heat didn’t bother her, but sweaty mortals did. So shorts and a shirt were this week’s Sunday Best. Briony was thrilled that the latter was pretty much identical to the one she wore yesterday. Minus the blood and everything.
Toying with the edging of the shirt to see if Rachel would notice and freak (she wouldn’t, ‘cause Daniel had her and none of them were even noticing he was tearing the story about Noah and his stupid boat apart – who wanted a boat that big anyhow?), she looked up and tilted her head back the other way so the hair fell out of her eyes. “Wonder if they’re regulars or they’ve switched up,” she murmured in a voice that was naturally quieter than Bubbles’. Except when it wasn’t. “Yeah.” Briony’s head bobbed in a nod. “Sounded like she was tearing her throat out. She’d’ve carried on forever too.” Said as though her actions were obviously a public service. As for the rest of it, she tilted her chin up and reached out to carefully touch a finger down the back of the neck of the woman in front. “I’m heartbroken,” she stated simply. “I bet Daniel I’d break the head-doctor. I’m going tomorrow.” On that note, she started swinging her legs. It was something to look forward to.