Michael turned the keys in the ignition of the jetta and listened to the engine come to life, driving slowly down the block as to avoid waking everyone.
Maria just shut down. That's the thing he remembers most about that day and the next few after it. After Max told them Alex was dead. She just could not deal with it, with anything. She just completely collapsed, she wouldn't eat, she'd barely speak, it was like the spark, the fire that was Maria had just snuffed out. He remembers that, that was what scared him the most those few days. Not that maybe it was a skin that had killed Alex or even that his mortality had been brought into question, it was that Maria wasn't Maria. She just cried or slept or curled up in his arms and buried her face in his shoulder as if suddenly the world she'd loved was no longer the same place, as if it were too horrible for her to bear. She was just now coming back to herself a little he couldn't bear it if she were to relapse into that monosyllabic zombie and so he would keep this from her. Let her yell and scream and rage at him if it turns out Isabel wasn't just dreaming, he'd deal with it all then.
Ten minutes later he crept back into the Deluca household through the window he'd left it from and had barely flopped down on the couch when Maria's door creaked open down the hallway and her blond head became visible peeking around the corner. Michael waved her over and she smiled, trailling her blanket behind her as she traipsed over to the couch, settling on her side she pulled his arm around her waist and snuggled into him. He tugged her closer with the arm around her middle before lacing their fingers, and set about moving the tousled blonde locks away from her face, stroking them back gently, combing his long fingers through the honey coloured strands he soothed her off to sleep. Dropping a kiss on her forehead, Michael laid his head down next to hers on his pillow and slowly drifted off.
Alex Whitman tossed and turned restlessly on his small cot, his feet hanging over the edge, his long thin legs twisted in his one blanket as he kicked out at unseen attackers in his sleep. Two figures stepped out of the shadows, one a fourteen year old boy, who smiled maniacally as he turned to his counterpart a tall man with smooth light brown hair and tattoos running up and down his arms. "We lucked out tonight." He crowed triumphantly to his companion. "Vilandra accidentally dreamwalked him, making our connection twice as strong. She's beginning to figure it out." Nicholas grinned evilly down at the sleeping teen, "I knew you'd make great bait." he chuckled, kicking the bedframe as he passed it on the way out.
Maria just shut down. That's the thing he remembers most about that day and the next few after it. After Max told them Alex was dead. She just could not deal with it, with anything. She just completely collapsed, she wouldn't eat, she'd barely speak, it was like the spark, the fire that was Maria had just snuffed out. He remembers that, that was what scared him the most those few days. Not that maybe it was a skin that had killed Alex or even that his mortality had been brought into question, it was that Maria wasn't Maria. She just cried or slept or curled up in his arms and buried her face in his shoulder as if suddenly the world she'd loved was no longer the same place, as if it were too horrible for her to bear. She was just now coming back to herself a little he couldn't bear it if she were to relapse into that monosyllabic zombie and so he would keep this from her. Let her yell and scream and rage at him if it turns out Isabel wasn't just dreaming, he'd deal with it all then.
Ten minutes later he crept back into the Deluca household through the window he'd left it from and had barely flopped down on the couch when Maria's door creaked open down the hallway and her blond head became visible peeking around the corner. Michael waved her over and she smiled, trailling her blanket behind her as she traipsed over to the couch, settling on her side she pulled his arm around her waist and snuggled into him. He tugged her closer with the arm around her middle before lacing their fingers, and set about moving the tousled blonde locks away from her face, stroking them back gently, combing his long fingers through the honey coloured strands he soothed her off to sleep. Dropping a kiss on her forehead, Michael laid his head down next to hers on his pillow and slowly drifted off.
Alex Whitman tossed and turned restlessly on his small cot, his feet hanging over the edge, his long thin legs twisted in his one blanket as he kicked out at unseen attackers in his sleep. Two figures stepped out of the shadows, one a fourteen year old boy, who smiled maniacally as he turned to his counterpart a tall man with smooth light brown hair and tattoos running up and down his arms. "We lucked out tonight." He crowed triumphantly to his companion. "Vilandra accidentally dreamwalked him, making our connection twice as strong. She's beginning to figure it out." Nicholas grinned evilly down at the sleeping teen, "I knew you'd make great bait." he chuckled, kicking the bedframe as he passed it on the way out.