WHO: Mary & Patrick WHEN: Sunday night WHERE: Patrick's place WHAT: Escape plans (Originally posted by Mary Magdalene)
From the break up at the warehouse Mary didn't even know where she was going. All of her things were there but she couldn't go back and get them, and she couldn't return to her old apartment because she'd given it up just a few weeks ago. She'd finally decided to move in with her Aztec and do it properly, because this was real and she was in it for the long run.
She was such an idiot.
It was hard to see the street so clearly as she cried, but it was night and she was glad for that. She didn't want people to stop and ask her if she was okay. She wasn't okay. Nothing at all was okay and she wanted, more than anything, just to hate Huitzilopotchli. But she didn't and she couldn't. Because on some level she had always known that he was right. She loved him so much that it hurt but they were different and they were never supposed to be together.
But... what now? No home, no Hummingbird, no nothing.
She managed to make her way to John's house and there she banged against the door, calling out his name. She knew what she needed but to get it she also needed help. John would help her. John who had loved Jesus as fiercely as she had. John who she had thought once truly understood her but who had drifted from her. John who would help her now if she begged.
Patrick had been sitting at his piano, playing soft notes to himself while he thought. It distracted him from his confused and frustrated mental state to just play without regard to melody or anything else.
The knock interrupted his random noise and he jumped up from the bench. He heard someone calling John's name and he thought he recognised the voice. He hoped, in John's absence, he would do.
He ran to the door and pulled it open. It was Mary and she looked terrible. "Mary, come in!" he said worriedly. "What's wrong?"
"Where's John?" she asked as she came rushing in and looking around. "Is he here?" She ran a hand through her knotted hair, her head throbbing and heavy from her crying.
"He's not here," Patrick said quickly. "Here-" Patrick rushed to get a blanket for her at least. She must be freezing. "Do you want some tea or something?"
Mary took the blanket gratefully, wrapping it tightly around herself as though it might be enough to bring her some peace. But it was just a blanket and that wasn't going to be enough. "I don't want-" she shook her head. "I need money, Patrick. I need to get out of New York right now but I don't want you to ask me what's happened."
Patrick chewed on his lip for a moment, almost burning to ask her what happened and to make sure she was okay. Instead he looked closely at her for a second and didn't see any visible signs that she was hurt. She was clearly incredibly upset, but it didn't seem to be physical. Not obviously so.
"I have some money," Patrick said. Liam the leprechaun was keeping him well-paid for some unknown reason. Patrick had no need of the money and if it would help his friend be safe, he would give it to her in a second. "I won't ask, I just...I hope you'll be safe," he said, heading towards his bedroom. "I have some money in here, follow me."
"I just need enough for a plane ticket out of here," Mary assured him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She followed quickly, wrapping her arms around herself. "You'll get it back one day." Mary honestly didn't know how long she'd be gone though, or where she'd go.
"I'm not worried about the money," Patrick said, only slightly pointedly. He dug out a bag he had been placing the money Liam had been giving him, intending to do something with it eventually. It turned out this is what he had been saving it for.
He handed it to her, unsure how much was there but knowing it would be enough to get her anywhere she wanted to go and then some. "I understand sometimes you just need to get away."
Mary gripped the bag tightly in her hand and nodded. She just needed to get away and then everything would be better with distance. Somewhere far away she could count up her sins and punish herself for every single one of them. She shrugged off the blanket and handed it to him. "Thanks, Patrick."