It was not supposed to end like this. It was supposed to end with them stopping to pick up a few jars of caviar for the party and then returning home together. It was supposed to end with her neatly arranging the gifts in their bright wrappers and bows under the sprig of mistletoe in their living room, while Jeanne fussed with the fireplace. It was supposed to end with Jeanne popping open the bottle of champagne they had been saving, while she drew them a bath. It was not supposed to end with her cradling the limp, lifeless body of her friend.
As she stared into space in the dark, smoky bar, she replayed the fight scene by scene in her head, where had she gone wrong? It was a typical summoning. One that she had done many times before. Gomorrah, Devourer of the Divine. He was nothing, but a large, ugly maw attached to a stomach on claws. But, it had gone wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. While her back was turned, the demon had been able to break free of the seal and re-emerged into her world, the World of Chaos, and it had gone straight for its summoner. Her. She should have been the one. The one lying there in the stone coffin. Only Jeanne would never permit it. Bayonetta allowed herself a small smile at the thought of Jeanne. Jeanne had always been over-protective of her. It was the disparity rooted in their childhood. Jeanne was never comfortable with her elated status within the clan. She was a rebel at heart, always wanting to push herself harder and faster. Bayonetta was never sure what Jeanne saw in her, a kindred soul or a challenge. She had always suspected that at the core of their relationship, Jeanne was still trying to right the wrongs heaped on her when they were children.
Now the world was turned upside down on its head. Jeanne had pushed her out of the way and taken the full impact of the blow meant for her. It had thrown her two hundred metres out snapping her neck in two like a toothpick, and broken most of the bones in her body. Her beautiful grey eyes were still wide opened when Bayonetta carried Jeanne back to the only safe place she knew. A broken down dive bar called the Gates of Hell. A place where the forces of Paradiso, Inferno and all shades in-between went to lose themselves in the narcotic haze. There the proprietor, Rodin, Bayonetta's sometime mentor had gently closed Jeanne's eyes before instructing Bayonetta to strip the body and place it in the stone coffin, while he busied himself setting up a brew. Now with Jeanne's body in a magically induced coma, the broken bones and lacerations slowly healing, Bayonetta found herself sorely tempted to walk up to her friend's sleeping form and wake her. Wake Jeanne like she has every morning for the past few months.
In her mind's eye, Bayonetta saw herself walk into the dim bedroom. Smiling at the muffed groans coming from the overstuffed bed as she pulled the heavy drapes open to let in the light. The routine word play between them. "Jeanne. Jeanne get up. You're going to be late. Jeanne. It's time. Get up." Followed by a loud moan of complain when the covers were finally unceremoniously ripped off the bed. Jeanne had never been a morning person, but Bayonetta knew she wasn't irresponsible when it came to her job. Bayonetta would have been content for Jeanne not to work, if she so wanted. Bayonetta did enough freelance jobs to pay their bills and then some. But Jeanne loved teaching, it was something of her own to be proud of, away and separate from Bayonetta. Bayonetta knew Jeanne didn't need her to boss her out of bed every morning. Jeanne could easily have set an alarm, but it was just like Jeanne to indulge her.
"Dead witches get dragged to hell. It is what it is. Jeanne's gonna wander Inferno suffering for an eternity. Them's the breaks."
Bayonetta stiffened at Rodin's words as he poured a brew into the stone coffin.
"I didn't ask you to tell me what I already know, Rodin."
The statement was delivered flat of emotion with the barrel of her gun pointed square at his back. "Especially if you are going to be flip about it."
"You know better than that."
Rodin turned and calmly pushed the gun away. He could see the pain and rage in Bayonetta's eyes, before she turned her head away and broke eye contact.
"You're not the kind to let that sort of a summon go out of control, Bayonetta."
Rodin's tone was low and even as he poured Bayonetta another drink from his flask. "Somethin's up. The balance of powers that keep things in check don't feel right, does it?"
"You know, she's pretty hot for a dead chick."
It was Enzo's nasal voice that cut through the fog in Bayonetta's head like a high beam of light. Bayonetta had almost forgotten that her never-do-well business partner had followed them back to the bar.
"Wasn't a big fan of her shit when she was in the realm of the living, but lookin' at her now...Nah. Still not a fan."
"She's not dead, Enzo."
Jeanne was not dead. Jeanne was lost and alone in the depths of Inferno, and in that instant Bayonetta knew what she had to do. Jeanne was waiting for her.