Untitled Story of Healing

Julie

Angel wakes up screaming. His nightmares seem to have gotten worse in the past few weeks. I move to lean my head against his back in my usual attempt to calm him down, but it never meets. He jumps out of bed and begins to walk with a purpose towards the door.

"Angel!" I move quickly to intercept him, "Wait, where are you going?"

"Move, mi amor, I have to get to him. I have to end this." His breathing is even more ragged than usual and the young rays of sun shining through our window cast a shadow that blocks out his face.

Mi amor.

"Angel, you haven't called me that in years," I stand firm when he tries to push me out of the way, "What are you planning?"

"Julie. Move."

"Not until you tell me what you're planning, Angel Alire." I grab his arm to try to ground him on something.

"Julie- Jules, I don't want to hurt you, but I have to do this. I can't take it anymore. Please. Move."

"Do what? Tell me what you're planning." As my eyes adjust to the lighting I see a dark glint in his eyes.

"I'm going to make him feel a little of the fear he made me feel."

"What?" the blood rushes from my face, "No! This is stupid they'll lock you up- or they'll kill you before you get there. They have guards don't they?"

"Jules, move. Move or I'll make you."

"No," I choke out again but before I can gather my power he jabs a finger in the pressure point under my jaw.

I hit the ground, choking. The pressure point will cause no permanent damage, but it can knock anyone out of a fight for a few solid minutes. The choking sensation is only made worse by the terror and betrayal that twist my stomach and the sobs that hit my body. It must be nearly three minutes before I can force my way to my feet and choke a warning to HQ through the emergency system. By the time I've thrown on a second shirt and a pair of shorts the alarm is blaring through the entire building. It takes me a few moments to remember the way to the holding cells. I skate down the stairs by freezing some of the air near the ground. It's not graceful, and I hit the wall at the bottom of every landing, but it takes less time than an elevator or going down the stairs normally.

The entire place is swarming with guards by the time I get to the prison wing. My heart pounds and my breathing is ragged as I push through the mass. Either no one notices me in the chaos or no one cares enough to stop me because I reach the cell without a problem.

The sight makes me take a step back.

I didn't know people had that much blood in them.

Both of the men in the cell are unconscious and both of them are bloody but the blood only came from one of them. I don't know how Angel did that much damage in such a short span of time. This time, when I try to push forward, I'm stopped.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask that you don't take another step forward."

I look up to the man in full, bulletproof armor, "But- What about Angel?"

"He's okay. They knocked him out with a tranq about a minute and a half ago. He'll be detained for questioning."

"I- I need to- to see him. Please. He won't hurt me." The helmet tips down and I press a finger to the pressure point under my jaw. It's sore, likely already bruised. "Look, I don't mean to be pushy, but you really aren't going to stop me if I want to get in there." As I speak the temperature drops.

Everyone can recognize a class five. There's only three of us here, after all. Murmuring breaks out and I realize the crowd behind me has become silent. The guard holding my arm visibly stiffens when ice starts to form on the ceiling.

"Fine. But we won't hesitate to tranq you if we think you're going to do more damage to Julius."

I don't deem a response as I run to Angel, skittering on the ice I've created. His hands are already bound, and doctors are attending to the villain. I pull Angel's head into my lap and look over his features. There's a bump on his forehead, likely where he hit when the tranq kicked in. His eyes flutter. I know the tranquilizer they used must have been strong, but his heightened metabolism will completely burn through it in ten minutes flat. His eyes meet mine and for a moment he looks confused. The confusion quickly turns to regret.

"Jules," he groans, voice hoarse, "I-I'm ssorry. I ssshouln't have done that."

I want to shrug it off. My instinct is to comfort him. But I can't just shrug this off. I can't tell him this is okay. So I shake my head, "No, Angel, you shouldn't have. You shouldn't have done that."

He rolls his head back like he's trying to see the man who became his demon, "Isss he going to mmmmake it?"

"I don't know," I pull his head back in my lap and bend to rest my head on his.

"It didn't make me feel better. I... I just wanted to- to make it easier. But it didn't." He sobs. And I can't do anything to hide him from the crowd of watching heroes and HQ staff.

"Shhh," I try to soothe him, "It'll be okay. I'm still here."

I don't know how long they let us stay there, how long they let me hold him, but I don't fight them when they tell me he has to be locked up. I want to fight them. I want to stay there with him for as long as he needs to be better: I know I can't. I want to help him so badly but I can't. I think I've known that for a long time. I was just scared to admit it.

"Please don't hurt him anymore," I beg, "He might not survive it."

"That is never our goal," one of the guards says in what I think is meant to be a calming voice. It's hard to tell through the helmet.

I push myself to my feet and turn to the door they carry Angel out through.

Our team is there. Gunner looks mad, Gunner always looks mad, but I don't know who or what he's mad at. Gavin, for once, has an unreadable expression on his face. I don't know what he could be thinking. And Lyla, sweet, caring Lyla, looks like she's cried more than I have. My team. Angel's team. I can't meet any of their eyes.

"I tried," I whisper. I don't know if my voice is hoarse from crying or the now throbbing spot on my neck or a combination of both.

Lyla hugs me. I know she means well but I pull away, tensing like I'm preparing for a fight. She's not Angel. I know that. I know that she's amazing. But right now, I just want to be able to comfort him. He'll have to be processed in the system before he's put into a cell, whether it be permanent or not I don't know.

I walk away from my team with my shoulders squared and a heart that feels more broken than the day I lost it to a villain.