The hot water cascaded down over Grace, relaxing her tense
muscles. She closed her eyes and sighed. The whales still sang a song
only she could hear, keeping her company when she had none. She put her
hands on the tile wall in front of her, and leaned forward. She trembled,
almost falling asleep with the hot water. Her mind began to wander, and
she thought again of having told the others not to start trouble.
She could trust them...couldn't she? She'd been able to trust them for the whole two years she'd known them, why not now? She knew they could be trouble sometimes, especially Reinhardt and Chupa. They were trouble even when they listened to her. Grace finished her shower and came out of the bathroom wearing white leans with flames embroidered up the cuffs, soft, simple sandals, and a familiar black shirt. She looked around, wondering where everyone was. She found Deacon in the 'Water Room'.
"Where're the others?" Grace asked, walking over to him.
"Out," he replied, turning, "Not soon enough for me."
She sighed, almost smiling, "You'll learn to live with them."
"I could live with just you," Deacon said, "Forever."
Grace blushed, silent for a moment as she thought of something to say.
Deacon stared at her shirt for a second, realizing it looked familiar. "Is that my shirt?"
Blinking, she looked down at it, "Oh, yeah," she said, looking back up at Deacon, "You don't mind, do you?"
He grinned, "Have you been wearing my shirts the whole time I was gone?"
She smiled shyly, "What," she said defensively, "I like it."
"I wasn't complaining," he said, moving closer to her, "I think it looks great on you."
And then he started tickling her, which came as a great surprise to Grace. She started laughing, clamping her arms to her sides.
"Stop!" she squealed, trying to get away.
But she tripped and fell, landing on the couch instead. With a devious grin, he held her down with one hand and continued to tickle her with the other.
"You are ticklish," he said.
Grace was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes, "Snop, snop!" she cried.
"'Snop,'?" Deacon laughed, "D'you have your own language now?"
"Stop and I'll tell you!" she laughed.
He did, but still held her down in case she decided to get revenge. For the first time, he noticed a tattoo of hearts encircling her left wrist.
Grace wiped the tears from her eyes, breathing hard from laughing, "I never thought you were the tickling type," she said in-between panting.
"Now you know," Deacon said, wiggling his fingers teasingly.
Grace was too worn from everything to laugh anymore, "Yeah," she whispered, her eyes slipping half closed.
Deacon pulled her to her feet. "You sound tired, babe," he said, putting his arms around her.
Grace nodded, closing her eyes, "I am," she said, her voice soft as if she were on the verge of sleep. "That spell took a lot out of me, and all the laughing didn't help..."
Her voice faded away as she laid her head against his chest. He held her for a few minutes, listening to her slow, steady breathing, until he realized that she'd fallen asleep. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, laying her down carefully on the bed. She murmured in her sleep and rolled over, hugging her knees to her chest. A protective position...he wondered what she was dreaming about. Deacon stood there a moment more, watching her sleep, then left the room, closing the door behind him.
'Temple of Eternal Night,
Grace's Nightmare
She was running down one of the half lit hallways that seemed to stretch on and on forever. Her own footsteps echoed in her ears and her breath was coming in gasps.
"Deacon!" she shouted, eyes locked on the figure ahead of her.
But no matter how fast or long she ran, she never got any closer. She knew something bad was going to happen, she could feel it...but she couldn't reach him.
"Deacon!" she cried again, her voice reverberating off the walls.
She realized she was crying now, though she didn't know why. Then she saw the dark figure behind Deacon and gasped. Blade. Still running, but not making any headway, she saw the sword swinging through the air.
Saw cold steel meet flesh...saw Deacon crumble and turn to dust. She screamed, just a scream, no words, as Blade disappeared and she found herself surrounded by darkness. She stopped running then, falling to her knees.
"Grace."
The voice filled her ears, a thousand whispers coming at her from all directions, sending a chill up her spine. She knew that voice...She wasn't alone.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice sounding small and weak.
"He's dead Grace," said that same harsh whisper, "He's dead."
A pair of blood red eyes blinked into existence in front of her. She shivered, suddenly freezing.
"W-what do you mean?" she asked.
"He's gone," the voice said, no longer whispering, "Your f***ing loverboy is gone, honey."
Suddenly hardly able to even sit up, she blinked. "No he's not!" she gasped out.
She heard footsteps, and...Deacon was standing in front of her, red eyes glaring. She suddenly felt dizzy, what was going on? Was this a dream?
"Don't look so surprised babe," It said, kneeling beside her.
Something was seriously wrong. This wasn't...
"You're not Deacon!" she whispered, "...No...La Magra?" she hadn't spoken that name in three years.
"That's right," It said, voice suddenly becoming inhuman, and she shuddered, "Thanks to you."
"To me?" she said, forcing herself to speak.
"You brought me back. I spent three years in a limbo hell. Until you brought him back."
She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sound of It's voice, "No...It's impossible," she managed to whisper.
"Possible. We were joined when we died-"
As It spoke, more red eyes appeared, staring at her, and she started screaming...screaming...'
"Grace!"
Some one was shaking her. Her eyes flew open and she sat up, still screaming. Suddenly, she realized she was awake, and stopped. Her gaze swept around the room and she saw the others standing near the doorway, the whole gang. Then she saw Deacon, it had been him shaking her. He looked pale...and maybe even a little frightened. Whimpering, she flung her arms around his neck and started crying.
As he held her, she whispered; "It was terrible, so terrible."
"What was? What happened?" Deacon asked her, his voice strained, "You were screaming...?"
But she only sobbed, trembling while the others glanced at each other. When she calmed down, the others left, but Deacon remained with her for a few moments more.
"It's alright now," he said softly, brushing her hair back from her tear streaked face, "You should try to get some rest." And he started to leave.
"No!" Grace said in a hoarse whisper, grabbing his arm, "Please don't leave me," her heart was suddenly racing. Fear of being left alone, "Stay with me."
He turned back to her, his eyes searching hers, trying to find some hint as to what had shaken her so badly.
"Alright."
She could trust them...couldn't she? She'd been able to trust them for the whole two years she'd known them, why not now? She knew they could be trouble sometimes, especially Reinhardt and Chupa. They were trouble even when they listened to her. Grace finished her shower and came out of the bathroom wearing white leans with flames embroidered up the cuffs, soft, simple sandals, and a familiar black shirt. She looked around, wondering where everyone was. She found Deacon in the 'Water Room'.
"Where're the others?" Grace asked, walking over to him.
"Out," he replied, turning, "Not soon enough for me."
She sighed, almost smiling, "You'll learn to live with them."
"I could live with just you," Deacon said, "Forever."
Grace blushed, silent for a moment as she thought of something to say.
Deacon stared at her shirt for a second, realizing it looked familiar. "Is that my shirt?"
Blinking, she looked down at it, "Oh, yeah," she said, looking back up at Deacon, "You don't mind, do you?"
He grinned, "Have you been wearing my shirts the whole time I was gone?"
She smiled shyly, "What," she said defensively, "I like it."
"I wasn't complaining," he said, moving closer to her, "I think it looks great on you."
And then he started tickling her, which came as a great surprise to Grace. She started laughing, clamping her arms to her sides.
"Stop!" she squealed, trying to get away.
But she tripped and fell, landing on the couch instead. With a devious grin, he held her down with one hand and continued to tickle her with the other.
"You are ticklish," he said.
Grace was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes, "Snop, snop!" she cried.
"'Snop,'?" Deacon laughed, "D'you have your own language now?"
"Stop and I'll tell you!" she laughed.
He did, but still held her down in case she decided to get revenge. For the first time, he noticed a tattoo of hearts encircling her left wrist.
Grace wiped the tears from her eyes, breathing hard from laughing, "I never thought you were the tickling type," she said in-between panting.
"Now you know," Deacon said, wiggling his fingers teasingly.
Grace was too worn from everything to laugh anymore, "Yeah," she whispered, her eyes slipping half closed.
Deacon pulled her to her feet. "You sound tired, babe," he said, putting his arms around her.
Grace nodded, closing her eyes, "I am," she said, her voice soft as if she were on the verge of sleep. "That spell took a lot out of me, and all the laughing didn't help..."
Her voice faded away as she laid her head against his chest. He held her for a few minutes, listening to her slow, steady breathing, until he realized that she'd fallen asleep. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, laying her down carefully on the bed. She murmured in her sleep and rolled over, hugging her knees to her chest. A protective position...he wondered what she was dreaming about. Deacon stood there a moment more, watching her sleep, then left the room, closing the door behind him.
'Temple of Eternal Night,
Grace's Nightmare
She was running down one of the half lit hallways that seemed to stretch on and on forever. Her own footsteps echoed in her ears and her breath was coming in gasps.
"Deacon!" she shouted, eyes locked on the figure ahead of her.
But no matter how fast or long she ran, she never got any closer. She knew something bad was going to happen, she could feel it...but she couldn't reach him.
"Deacon!" she cried again, her voice reverberating off the walls.
She realized she was crying now, though she didn't know why. Then she saw the dark figure behind Deacon and gasped. Blade. Still running, but not making any headway, she saw the sword swinging through the air.
Saw cold steel meet flesh...saw Deacon crumble and turn to dust. She screamed, just a scream, no words, as Blade disappeared and she found herself surrounded by darkness. She stopped running then, falling to her knees.
"Grace."
The voice filled her ears, a thousand whispers coming at her from all directions, sending a chill up her spine. She knew that voice...She wasn't alone.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice sounding small and weak.
"He's dead Grace," said that same harsh whisper, "He's dead."
A pair of blood red eyes blinked into existence in front of her. She shivered, suddenly freezing.
"W-what do you mean?" she asked.
"He's gone," the voice said, no longer whispering, "Your f***ing loverboy is gone, honey."
Suddenly hardly able to even sit up, she blinked. "No he's not!" she gasped out.
She heard footsteps, and...Deacon was standing in front of her, red eyes glaring. She suddenly felt dizzy, what was going on? Was this a dream?
"Don't look so surprised babe," It said, kneeling beside her.
Something was seriously wrong. This wasn't...
"You're not Deacon!" she whispered, "...No...La Magra?" she hadn't spoken that name in three years.
"That's right," It said, voice suddenly becoming inhuman, and she shuddered, "Thanks to you."
"To me?" she said, forcing herself to speak.
"You brought me back. I spent three years in a limbo hell. Until you brought him back."
She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sound of It's voice, "No...It's impossible," she managed to whisper.
"Possible. We were joined when we died-"
As It spoke, more red eyes appeared, staring at her, and she started screaming...screaming...'
"Grace!"
Some one was shaking her. Her eyes flew open and she sat up, still screaming. Suddenly, she realized she was awake, and stopped. Her gaze swept around the room and she saw the others standing near the doorway, the whole gang. Then she saw Deacon, it had been him shaking her. He looked pale...and maybe even a little frightened. Whimpering, she flung her arms around his neck and started crying.
As he held her, she whispered; "It was terrible, so terrible."
"What was? What happened?" Deacon asked her, his voice strained, "You were screaming...?"
But she only sobbed, trembling while the others glanced at each other. When she calmed down, the others left, but Deacon remained with her for a few moments more.
"It's alright now," he said softly, brushing her hair back from her tear streaked face, "You should try to get some rest." And he started to leave.
"No!" Grace said in a hoarse whisper, grabbing his arm, "Please don't leave me," her heart was suddenly racing. Fear of being left alone, "Stay with me."
He turned back to her, his eyes searching hers, trying to find some hint as to what had shaken her so badly.
"Alright."