DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Supernatural.
Of The Light
Elm Treigh
Chapter One
Happy Birthday To Me Part One
"It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end."
- Ursula K. LeGuin
The woods were her sanctuary. They were peaceful and inviting. They were beautiful and magical. They were fresh and clean. The woods were prefect. She loved taking a stroll in the woods. She loved being greeted by the many woodland creatures that would scamper in the bushes. She loved the welcoming songs the birds would sing to her. It reminded her of home.
Whenever she felt homesick, she'd take a walk in the woods along the trails provided. She would inhale the smell of the trees and flowers. Allowing the aroma to engulf her into a serene state. The forest perfume taking her home. It was the earthy smell that reminded her of home. She remembered her mother and her habit to décor the house with flowers and plants of all kinds. She smiled at the thought. She continued down the trail, tracing her fingers along the trees and smiled as another memory crept into mind. She remembered the carving her and Peter made on the oak tree by her house. A proclamation of their love. The woods were her sanctuary.
So why was she running frantically into the woods? Why was her heart racing with terror? Why were the bushes nipping at her legs, leaving small cuts? Why were the branches reaching out to stop her from running? Pulling on her arms, and hair; ripping her dress? Why was her home away form home mocking her and sneering at her? Why was her green wonderland turning into a dark horror land?
She heard someone yell behind her and her heart skipped with a new wave of panic. She pushed her legs harder, begging them for more strength. She must go faster. She ignored the new rips in her dress, the new cuts on her arms, legs, and face. She ignored the pain of hair leaving her scalp. She needed to survive. She owed it to her family to live. She thought she had escaped him. She thought he was badly injured or dead.
Tears were threatening to blur her vision. She fought them back desperately. She needed her vision at the moment. She could crawl into a ball and become the victim that she is when she was safe. For now she needs to focus on getting out of the woods alive. She glanced behind her quickly, hoping she was in the clear. She didn't see anyone. Maybe she was safe. Maybe she did escape him. Maybe he really was hurt. Or dead. Her heart clenched tightly at the latter.
Dead. He could be dead and it would be all her fault. She had no choice. He was going to kill her. As much as she loved him, she had to defend herself. He wasn't the same. She could see it in his eyes. It was obvious in his demeanor. It wasn't him that surprised her with the roses at her dorm. It wasn't the same person that gave her a warm smile as he opened his car door for her. It wasn't Peter at all. The same man she's been with for over six years. Her High School sweetheart. Someone else was taking residence in him or someone or something had clouded his mind. Something had happened to him to make him attack her and she had no choice but to defend herself, which led to Peter's possible death.
She looked up. She could see an opening in the trees a few feet in front of her. She let out a relieved sigh. She was almost in the clear. Just a few more paces and she'd be free. She'd be safe.
A cold draft swept behind her and she thought, for a second, she heard someone laugh menacingly behind her. Her heart froze for a split second and she launched herself into the opening.
She spread her hands in front of her to catch her fall. One of her heels broke when she ran into the clearing, causing her to skid on her knees while her palms scraped on the asphalt in front of her. Fresh blood dripping from her knees and hands, but she ignored the pain. Her bag fell beside her. She breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath. Her heart thumped rapidly against her ribcage. She looked behind her for assurance. She needed to be sure.
It looked like she was safe. She breathed in and out in calm rhythms, readying herself to finally break down and become the victim. She was relatively safe now that she wasn't in the woods. She should be safe now.
"Are you alright?"
Her eyes widened and she looked up to see two tall, rugged, but good-looking young men standing beside a very good-looking black car. She tried to remember if she's seen them before she practically jumped onto the lone street. No. She hadn't seen them. She had heard them arguing, she realized.
"Are you alright?" The taller, shaggy haired man repeated, taking a few steps toward her.
She breathed in sharply, and leaned back. Her eyes widened with fear and uncertainty. If there was one thing she learned tonight, it was at the moment, she cannot trust anyone but herself. She watched the shaggy haired man lift his hands up as a sign that he means no harm. Right. Like she could believe that. She crawled backward, away from him and closer to the woods. She didn't want to have to return into the woods where an unknown... monster awaited her, but if she had to, she would.
"No. Stay away," She said, her voice faltering.
The tall man stopped. He turned to look behind him, seeking help from his fellow companion. The other man sighed, crossed his arms in front of him, and shrugged. Clearly he didn't want to get involved. The shaggy haired man frowned at him. He turned his attention back to the injured girl backing away from him.
"It's OK," He tried again.
The girl shook her head. "No. Please," She whispered. She slowly stood up, her body trembling as it registered the cold air, being sure to have her bag in hand, in case she needed to use it to fend off the men.
The shaggy haired man looked behind him. She couldn't hear what he was saying, she was busy looking for an opportunity to escape the strangers but it looked as though he was asking his partner for help. His back was facing her and she took that as an opportunity and bolted away from the two men. She ran as fast as she possibly could, kicking her broken heels off along the way. She ran and ran and ran, not wanting to look back to see whether they had followed her or not. It didn't matter. She had a good distance on them and she didn't care anymore. All she could think about now was her family. She needed to see her mom and her dad and her brother. So she ran.
Sam Winchester sat up in his bed, his breathing haggard, his hair dampened by the sweat beading his forehead, his heart accelerating. He looked around. Taking in his surroundings, feeling disoriented and unsure of himself or of what he saw. He began to breath normally as he realized he was in his motel room.
He looked at the clock provided. It was three in the morning. The sun hadn't risen yet. He ran his fingers through his now sweat drenched hair. He turned to his left to regard his brother, Dean's, sleeping form.
Sure enough, there he was. Sleeping on his stomach, arms sprawled all over the bed as if he were trying to clutch his bed closely to him. He seemed so peaceful, snoring, and dreaming of God-knows-what. How he wished he could sleep soundly like his brother. But no. He was plagued by a young girl in his dreams. Hurt, fragile, and terrified.
He had been dreaming about her the moment he and his brother took the job and entered the small town. This would be the third time the young girl's frightened wide crystal green eyes gazed at him. Pleading him to spare her when all Sam wanted to do was help her.
Who was this girl? Why was she haunting his dreams? Why was he dreaming about her? Was this a vision? Was he seeing her demise? Was he dreaming about her because he was supposed to save her? Or kill her? No. Not kill her. Who was she? What was he supposed to do?
He hadn't had any visions since Azazel. Before they meant he could see what would happen. He'd see those he had to save in danger. He'd see their deaths because he had a connection with one of Azazel's psychic kids. His visions would be intense and leave him almost weak. But these visions felt more like a dream. They weren't as painful as the ones he had had before. Not only that but his connections with these psychics, they'd either kill someone or they would die. This green eyed beauty didn't die in his dreams, nor had she killed anyone. At least not with intent. She'd fall out from the woods, covered in small cuts and scrapes. Her lavender dress tattered with twigs, her coiffure undone and matted with leaves.
He knew she was in danger, even though she hadn't died in his dreams. She seemed so small and delicate. Her frame trembling, her eyes filled with panic and uncertainty and fear. She was afraid of him. But why?
He pulled the covers off of him and walked toward the window. He parted the curtains to gaze at the dim night. Who is she?
"Sam?"
Sam turned to see his brother sit up in his bed looking irritated. Dean stared a the time and groaned. "Seriously?" He asked as he pulled the covers away from him roughly. "Was it the dream again?"
Sam nodded, brows furrowed pensively as he returned his gaze out the window. As though the night sky may have the answers he seeks.
"Anything new this time?" Dean asked.
"No."
"OK, then. Go back to bed Sammy," Dean practically demanded. He began to slowly lay down, readying himself to return to his dream. His lovely dream of two busty Asian beauties doing things to each other that any man would enjoy.
"I can't, Dean," Sam replied, walking back to his bed, not finding anything out the window. He sat on his bed, leaning against the bed frame staring off into the distance instead.
"Dude, c'mon! It's four in the freaking morning!" Dean groaned exasperatedly.
"I know."
"There's nothing you can do, Sam. We don't know who she is. Hell, we don't even know if she exists! Just go back to sleep," He plopped back on his bed.
"This is the third time, Dean. I can't close my eyes without seeing her face," Sam responded as he closed his eyes to try to bring the girls image to mind, again.
"Is she hot?" Dean asked speaking to the ceiling.
"That doesn't matter. What matter's is that we find her and save her, Dean," Sam said impatiently.
"So she is hot?" Dean smirked glancing at Sam.
Sam rolled his eyes. "We have to save her," Sam repeated with more force.
"How do you propose we do that, Sam?" Dean replied, bored with the same argument.
Truth be told, Dean was concerned for Sam. He was aware that although Sam had other supernatural abilities, his precognition days had ceased with Azazel's death. If he was seeing the future, having visions again, what did it mean? Did it mean that another demon with Azazel's plan was on the prowl and aiding Sam to be the general of the army that Azazel originally had? Was Sam going to be the leader of the demon army of the Apocalypse?
Dean already had enough on his plate without adding that too. It was bad enough he was just coming to terms with being the first seal broken and as a result to that only he could stop the coming war. And that was after he had confessed to Sam his guilt for giving in to Alastair's offer. For torturing the other souls and liking it. Which was accepting that he was in Hell for thirty years.
None of that was anything compared to pulling a Marty McFly and finding out the reason his mother died saving Sam was because she was trying to save him from Azazel and the deal she made with him ten years prior. Or how his father died to save him also making a deal with Azazel. Or when Sam had died from a psychic pageant orchestrated by that yellow-eyed son of bitch and he, being the older brother that he was, unwilling to lose the only family he had left on earth and not wanting to fail his duty as the older brother, resurrected Sam only to find that Sam had changed. Even when he only had one year left, even when they were apart for those four months, Sam had been different. He'd changed.
Add the Angel's being a pain in Dean's ass. Constantly nagging him to stop the seals from breaking, and reminding him that he was resurrected to work for them in the name of God. And when the Angel's had warned him about Sam and what he was doing with Ruby. Using his abilities the Demon that killed their parents, taken Jess, the love of his life away; the same Demon that had turned their lives upside before they were even born. Dean couldn't understand it.
He accused him. Accused Sam for his deceit and revealed to him the warning the Angel's gave him. He was relieved that Sam had made the decision to stop. But he's returned to his old habits when he was gone and now he's having dreams of some girl that they had no real chance in Heaven or Hell to find. It was all becoming too much to swallow.
"I don't know," Sam whispered.
Dean sat up in his bed and turned to face his brother. Sure he was worried about his little brother. Sam is and will always be his responsibility, but he was right. If this 'dream girl' was in danger it was up to them to find her, help her, and save her somehow. It's in their job description.
"Fine. We'll find her," Dean caved. Sam glanced at his brother. Appreciation glazed on his face. "After we have a bit more shut eye." Sam sighed and laid back down to sleep.
Meanwhile, half way into the town, in the girl's dormitories of the local Community College, Sam Winchester's 'dream girl' sat up abruptly in her plush canary yellow bed sheets, gasping for air. Her long dark hair clung to her face which was drenched in sweat. Her heart pumping adrenaline uncomfortably in her veins. Her eyes searched the room she was in, being sure she had awoken from her dream. It had felt so real, but she had to believe it was only a dream. A horribly realistic dream. A dream that had shadowed her slumber, keeping her uneasy and afraid to shut her eyes. The recurring dream of what could have been her death.
She felt more at ease once she realized that she was indeed awake and in her dorm room. Her nerves calming down and her heart beating in regular rhythms again. She spread her hand across her bed searching for the plush teddy bear Peter had given her. It was sprawled on her bed, contorted in a way that made it looked as though it was in a wrestling match and lost. She sighed and reached for the bear, clutching it close to her chest and kissing the top of its head.
"I'm sorry," She whispered to the bear.
"What's there to be sorry about?" Said a monotone female voice.
She gasped at the sudden intrusion of a private moment between her and her bear, only to frown as she recognized the young lady standing at the corner of her dorm room by the entrance to her balcony.
"Oh, it's you," She replied.
The willowy figure of the red head stepped forward into the light. "Did you sleep well?" She asked.
The girl narrowed her eyes at the intruder. "What do you want, Grace?" She asked her, irritated as she climbed out of her bed, her bear still held closely in her arms.
"My name isn't Grace," The red head responded calmly. She continued her journey forward. Stepping closer to the young girl.
"Maybe you should change it?" The girl offered. "I mean, it's not like it doesn't suit you perfectly."
"Magdalena," The red head stated.
"Call me Magsie, please,"Magdalena countered. "There's no need for formalities, Grace. You come to see me every time I wake from that nightmare. Nothing's changed, in case you were wondering."
"It still ends the same," 'Grace' said.
"Mmhmm," Magdalena muttered walking to her closet to pick out an outfit. She had a lot to do that day before she's swept away to a "magical birthday weekend" as Peter had claimed. "I'll probably need a bag," She said to herself.
"What are you doing?" 'Grace' asked her.
Magdalena ignored her and continued searching through her clothes. She decided on some dark blood red skinny jeans, a black AC/DC band shirt, and her favorite pair of boots that reached mid-calf. She spread the outfit on her bed, placing her teddy bear gently on her pillow facing her. Her own personal audience. She admired the attire before her, nodded as the final decision, and returned to her closet to scavenge for clothes she could wear on her "magical birthday weekend". Her stomach fluttered excitedly at the thought.
"You mustn't go out today, Magdalena," 'Grace' said solemnly.
Magdalena sighed. She turned to face the unwelcome visitor, placing two folded tanks; one white and one black, about four thin strapped shirts of assorted colors, another pair of skinny jeans, three pairs of regular jeans, a couple of her favorite tee shirts with retro designs, a weeks worth of panties and bra's, a few pairs of socks, two sweaters; a thin one and a mildly thicker one with a hoodie, her other favorite pair of boots, and her tennis shoes on her bed. She reached under her bed for her black and white polka-dotted duffel and set it next to the pile of clothes. She placed an elegant petite lavender dress with a bejeweled V-neck of emerald rhinestones beside the duffel and right beside the dress she laid a matching pair of heels.
Satisfied with her outfit for the evening and the clothes for her weekend getaway with Peter, she glared at the red head before her. "And why not?" She dared.
"It isn't safe," 'Grace' answered.
Magdalena rolled her eyes. "Nothing and nowhere is safe, Grace."
"My name isn't Grace," 'Grace' replied, this time with a suggestive undertone.
"Fine. Nothing and nowhere is really safe, Anna."
Anna seemed pleased to have been obeyed and replied, "Today will be the day your nightmare comes true."
Magdalena froze mid-packing. Her nightmare comes true? No. No it couldn't be. Dreams come true, not nightmares. That's how it is. That's how it's supposed to be, isn't it? Dreams not nightmares. She shook her head, snickering, and returned to her task of packing her clothes in her polka-dotted duffel. As if she could ever believe anything Anna says. Yeah right. She chuckled again.
"Oh! P.J,'s!" She suddenly said, snapping her fingers. She returned to her closet and opened a drawer full of pajamas. Her favorite thing to wear were her P.J.'s. Hmm... Sexy? Conservative? Comfortable? Or a combination of three? She thought. She settled on her imitation boxer brief shorts and a tank tee. Perfect. She placed the pajama's with the rest of her clothes in the bag, zipped it, and grabbed a towel on her bed post as she headed for the conjoined bathroom.
"Magdalena, please listen to me," Anna begged.
"Look Anna. If you're not gonna tell me who the boys are, I don't want to hear what you have to say. This is the fourth or fifth time I have had that dream and you've shown up the moment I wake up, claiming you're sent to help me, but all you've done is question me about the dream and then when I ask you a question in return, you give me very vague answers. I'm tired of it. OK? I'm just... Just go away," She finished, closing the bathroom door behind her.
Humph. She thought undressing herself. Coming in here, demanding answers from me when all I know is that I'm supposed to meet the guys.
She turned the water on to the shower, running her hand under the water to check the temperature. It was warm. She slipped into the shower, closing the curtains, allowing the water to cascade over her form. She closed her eyes as the water poured on her scalp, beating on it gently, soothingly. She turned to face the force of the shower and let it beat on her face. She blubbered into the water, smiling.
"Magdalena."
"Ah!" Magdalena yelled. She glanced out the shower curtains and saw Anna was standing inches away from her. "Are you serious?" She groaned.
"Magdalena, you must be careful today," Anna implored.
Magdalena closed the curtains on Anna and returned to her shower, feeling irritated by the fact that she now had an audience. She wouldn't have minded if it were Peter. Or one of the guys from my dream. She smirked. Hell, I'd take both of them. She giggled.
"This is serious, Magdalena," Anna continued. "You know your part. Your safety is very important."
Magdalena sighed heavily, scrubbing her hair with the orchid scented shampoo. She knew her part. Of course she knew. She's always known. From the moment she could form her own thoughts and even then she knew one thing. She didn't want any part of it. She didn't want to be involved in any of it. She didn't choose to be a part of what ever it was the Angels and Demons were feuding about this time. Same war as always, she had thought. She didn't want to be a part of any war, human or not. All she wanted was to live as normal a life as possible. But no. She was a vital part to this... What did Anna call it? War? That's right. War. She was of vital importance to this Apocalyptic war.
"I know my part, Grace," Magdalena spat. "And if what you're saying is true, than I'll be careful. Now could you please leave? I'm busy here."
She did all she could to convince Magdalena to be careful. She should have known it wouldn't be easy. From the moment she met her, Magdalena was stubborn and not easily swayed. If it hadn't been for the fact that this was not the first time she's dreamed about the boys, Anna was sure Magdalena would have been a much more difficult case to handle.
She turned to face her reflection in the mirror, studying her face. The face of the human she used to be. How far has she fallen? To watch over a stubborn, smart mouth like Magdalena? Someone who didn't take orders and authoritative figures made her cringe with disgust. Technically, Anna had no need to keep an eye on Magdalena. It was not an order. It was not her duty. But after falling from grace― something Magdalena never let her forget; hence the little nickname she's given her― just to return to who she was before, to what she should have never left from in the first place, she's felt out of place.
Anna knows the best of both worlds. She knows the worst of both worlds, Heaven and Earth, human and Angel, and she wants to help in this war. Problem was, she didn't know how to go about it. There is a warrant for her from the Angels and the Demons would love nothing more than to see her dead. They wouldn't care if it happened by one of their own or not. As long as she was gone and out of the way. Especially since they couldn't have her now that she was an Angel again.
All Anna wanted to do was live like a human. She wanted to feel. She didn't want to live on blind faith anymore. Being a human, everything was real. When there was sadness, she felt it. When there was anger, she felt it. She even felt happiness. Then Dean Winchester was saved and her past life returned; putting her in danger, leading her straight to the war she had thought she had left behind her. And now that she's returned, all she wanted to do is save her Father's creations. She's lived a human life. They have it so much easier than the Angels. They had Free Will. She was immensely envious of them and was saddened that she had to return to her former life, even if it meant roaming the planes as a fugitive. Either way, if she could help her brothers and sisters in this fight whether they want it or not, then she will.
She will save the humans. They will continue to live their lives oblivious to the supernatural world and of the centuries old war emanated from envy. The only worries they will have will be the same trivial worries of everyday life. What to wear. What to be. What to eat next. What they will do the next day, week, month, year. Does so and so like me? Can such and such be done? Is it right? Is it the right thing to do? The same everyday questions they ask themselves. That is all they will ever have to think about. Even Magdalena. She deserves to live the life she wants to live. It is unfair she was chosen. Anna understood Magdalena's denial and reluctance to take the role she was given. But she will continue to help her. She will help in this war.
Anna heard the water cut off and the shower curtains being pulled away. She turned away from the mirror. There wasn't anything she found interesting staring back anyway. She almost smirked as she saw Magdalena sigh heavily and roll her eyes at her when she realized she was still here and how she tried to ignore her the best she could.
"You're still here?" Magdalena asked. "Didn't I ask you to leave? Or are you one of those freaky 'peeping Tom' Angel's? In which case, I'm gonna have to charge you."
Anna did smirk this time. Living as a human, learning their sarcastic ways, and being, essentially, in a human vessel, made it difficult for her not to react in a human way. In particular, when she could still remember how fun it was to annoy people sometimes.
She stepped forward, placed her hands firmly on Magdalena's shoulders. She felt her stiffen at her touch and frown at her for being so close, when she wasn't even dressed yet or fully covered. She rolled her eyes at Magdalena, which caused a grin to appear on Magdalena's face. She enjoyed receiving any kind of reaction from Anna. She seldom saw any emotion from her. Anna was always so vague and indifferent. Anything she could get from her and what she's really thinking was practically a blessing.
They stared into one another's eyes. An unspoken message delivered. "Fine. I'll be extra careful. Is that better?" Magdalena said shaking off Anna's hands and reaching for her towel to cover herself and dry off.
"Yes. That's all I ask of you," She replied. "That and―"
"No. No, you can't ask me to do anything else, Grace," Magdalena warned. "It's bad enough I have to tolerate your very unwanted presence, not to mention the cryptic answers to my questions. I'm not doing anything for you."
"Magdalena."
"Grace."
"When the day comes to meet the boys," Anna began. Magdalena stood still; her ears perked. Was she finally going to get some answers? "You must run form them. You must leave them."
Magdalena cocked her brow, confused. She had to leave them if she crossed paths with them? She has been dreaming about these boys for years. She's seen their struggle from losing both parents, to losing one another at one point all thanks to the Yellow-Eyed-Demon, to resurrection, to going to Hell, to resurrection again, to being the key for the prevention of the Apocalypse. She's seen their first Hunt with Daddy, to where they are now.
The only problem was she didn't know their names. All she knows is what she's seen in her dreams. Like a silent movie without the captions. And she doesn't receive the full story. She receives bits and pieces that she's had to piece together. It had been so frustrating! And now that the possibility of a brief conference with the boys presents itself (perhaps not in the best conditions), Anna asks her to leave them? To run from them? To not meet them and find out who they are? What were their names? What was the connection she had with them?
Is she serious? She shook her head. "No. I want answers. And since you won't give me any, maybe they can." She said, her tone set.
"You don't understand," Anna said.
Magdalena crossed the bathroom to return to her room. She made her way to her bed where her clothes were and began to dress herself. Anna followed her, to Magdalena's annoyance. She decided she was going to be as mean and rude as possible. This was the last straw as far as she was concerned.
She was done dressing and began on her hair, staring at her reflection in the vanity. "Then tell me everything, Anna. Tell me the truth for once," She responded as she combed through her hair.
"I know as much as you do," was her reply.
Magdalena laughed dryly. I know as much as you do. Liar. If that were true then why was she so adamant about her coming face to face with the men that have been the main characters to her dreams for as long as she could remember and leave them? She's supposed to meet them. Her latest dream confirmed that. Granted, she fled from them, but now that she was sure it was them, partially thanks to Anna for verifying that fact, she won't flee. She won't run from them. They could be useful. They've been able to help save many lives before. She knows that. Then maybe they can help her. They could be the ones to give her her freedom. The freedom she longs for.
She finished fixing her hair, deciding to leave it half down, as well as the finishing touches to her ensemble. She couldn't be worrying about this right now. So she's had dreams about theses boys. It didn't mean they existed or that any of it came true. Of course, having an Angel in your dorm room would indicate that it could be, but she's chopped that up to it all being her imagination, though she knew it wasn't.
She sighed and turned to face the mentioned Angel. "Look. I'll consider it, alright?" She tried to compromise.
"Magdalena. If you seek answers, they cannot give you any," Anna tried again. "They are marked men."
"But they're protected!" She countered.
"If they figure out who you are, your life as well as theirs will be in danger!" Anna replied impatiently.
"What?" Nothing was making sense now.
"Magsie? Are you up and ready? Peter's here to escort you to class!" Called out her roommate.
"I'll be out soon, Tammy!" Magdalena answered. "What do you mean?" She returned her attention to Anna.
"You'll kill them."
She wasn't sure what came over her. She wasn't sure what compelled her to do it or why she did it. All she knew was that she wanted to hurt her. It was a reaction. It was what she felt like doing. It was what she wanted to do at that moment. You'll kill them. She had said. So she punched her; square in the jaw. And the only person who was hurt was herself. Her right hand throbbed. She looked at it briefly to examine the extent of the somewhat self-inflicted injury. It had begun to swell and her knuckles were red. It was going to bruise. She could feel it was.
She stared into Anna's face; looking for any mark, anything that would show her anger for that was all she felt. Nothing. Her anger escalated. She couldn't even leave a mark! Punching Anna was like punching a brick wall. But what Anna said had really upset her and the only thing she could think to do was hit her. Hit her hard and good. But to no avail.
"Don't say that!" She hissed instead, conforming herself to glare daggers at this "wannabe" Guardian Angel.
Anna stared calmly but sadly at Magdalena. She had not realized, or more importantly, had not expected Magdalena would feel protective of the boys she's never met other than in slumber. She didn't think she would have feelings for the boys, period. This could be problematic.
Not that Anna didn't understand or that she couldn't relate. The two men had a certain je ne sais quoi, about them. They were alluring. She knew. Anna knew more than anyone. After all, she did sleep with the eldest of the two before receiving grace. (Something, Magdalena has probably seen in one of her dreams.) She understood Magdalena's attachment to the boys.
All it meant now was that she'll have to change tactics. Use this new bit of information to her advantage. Magdalena's dreams may point to an encounter with the boys, but her destiny was still to stay clear form them. She's not to join them in their journey. She's to stay away from any danger and be safe, and with those two... No one was truly safe in their care. No one ever really was. Magdalena needs to be unharmed. If this war were to end badly, only Magdalena would be able to restore it.
"I'm sorry," Anna finally responded after a while. "But I didn't want to give you false hopes. It may sound horrible, Magdalena, but it is the truth. If you involve yourself with them, they could die."
"Magsie? Everything OK?" Tammy asked, knocking on the door.
"Every thing's fine. I'll be right out!" Magdalena called out. She replaced her glare with a stare of desperation. "Anna―"
Anna cut her off. "I understand, Magdalena. Just be alert. I cannot force you to do anything you don't want to do. Though I'd like to."
Magdalena smiled. She picked up her school bag and left her room. There was nothing else that could be said. They managed a compromise, if only a small one without any real guarantees. Anna disappeared the moment Magdalena turned her back.
"What happened?" Tammy asked concerned as she noticed the swell on Magdalena's right hand.
"Nothing, Tammy. I just tripped. You know how clumsy I am," Magdalena dismissed.
Tammy didn't seem convinced but shrugged either way and turned to leave the dorm room. Magdalena followed after her. She just had to get through the school day, come back, get dressed for an evening out with the man she loved, and spend the rest of the weekend enjoying herself with said man. She could that.
"If you involve yourself with them, they could die." Damn you, Anna! She frowned, but quickly smiled as she saw Peter waiting down the hall.
"What happened to your hand?" He asked her as she approached him.
"Oh, you know me," She dismissed. Peter rolled his eyes at her, gently took hold of the 'injured' hand, and kissed it lightly. Magdalena smiled appreciatively at him.