Rescue
He found her in the extra bedroom that served as her studio, the lamp illuminating one corner of the room where she sat at the draftsman's table they'd picked up at a local flea market. Hunched over, she was adding flecks of detail to a colored panel while half a dozen others sat propped against the desk.
"Couldn't sleep?"
She looked up over her shoulder and he got the answer to his question. Her eyes seemed far too dark, far too wild before she turned back to her drawing.
"I wanted to finish to show Brennan," she said. She tossed aside one colored pencil for another and she hesitated.
"Are these for Brennan's kid book?"
One drawing featured a curly-haired boy trailing a girl with raven black hair while another had a child that looked suspiciously like Christine climbing a tree.
"I wanted to give her some choices. I mean, she has these kids doing all kinds of things, science things and I just wanted, I just wanted, I just. . . ."
She ran out of steam and he recognized that look—a bit lost, a bit uncertain and he stepped closer and caught her as she rose to bury her face in his neck.
"I can't close my eyes without. . . without. . . ."
"I know," he soothed. "It's okay. The guy's locked up and he can't hurt anyone."
No matter how many times he reminded her since the rescue, words alone can't banish the images that haunt her. "He's locked up, Ange. They're not going to let him out ever again."
Her body softened in his arms and he considered walking them back to their bedroom when she presented another nightmare.
"I just can't help thinking, how did he get those bones out of limbo?"
oOo
Author's note: Thanks to NatesMama from Bonesology from saving me from myself by pointing me toward the list of words I started this little adventure on. I hate unfinished stories and have every intention to finish both this little puppy and The Lies in the Truth before the twelfth in the twelfth. Hopefully I can remember to write in past tense again. I'll get a running start with this one and then after I've re-read the elephant that is Lies, I'll start up that little woofer and then I'll. . . .
