Covens and Proxies

12

A scream rips through the air, throwing you from your bed and hurtling into the hall. You bound into the living room, yank yourself around the corner and freeze in the entrance of the kitchen. Zemra is standing, staring at three bloody bullets and a red stain on the floor, hyperventilating.

"What's wrong?! What happened?!" You demand, faining ignorance. As soon as her back is turned, you snap your fingers; making the bullets disappear and the stain fade into the tiles.

"There's blood and bullets on the floor!" She shrieks, pointing to where they were.

You cock an eyebrow, looking behind her and shake your head. She whips around, gasping when the said items are missing. "But... But..." She stammers.

You come and rest a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you had a nightmare that shot your nerves. I'll call the diner and tell them you're sick today." You tell her, guiding her back to her room.

She nods meakly, walking the rest of the way.

You sigh with relief, quickly rushing to the garbage can under the sink. Sure enough, the spell had worked. The bullets are nestled into the can. Unfortunately, the blood stain reappears on the floor. You grab a rag, soak it in hot water and pour dish soap on before kneeling and starting to scrub.

When the stain is gone, you throw the rag into a dirty laundry basket and go about your day, most of your thoughts returning to last night. The memory of Toby's sister, crushed in the car alongside him.

Other fuzzy emotions buzz in your head, though you're certain they're not yours. Remnants from the psychic link from last night, you guess. It's muddled, as though your trying to see a shark through murky water. Only a faint outline is cast from the sun above.

He's stressed and scared; angry. But something else buzzes, buried deep under the other raging emotions. Something soft and caring. Something he doesn't want to address, or show.

~~~

You walk home from the warehouse, having finished practicing shooting spells. You stumble down the darkening street, clutching your bag close. You're still a block and a half from your house, losing energy fast. You cut into a space between some houses, taking the shortest route without care of who might attack.

Your foggy mind blinks long enough to take a wrong corner, stopping at a dead end. You turn, about to just keep walking, when a woman steps onto your path, gun drawn.

"Alright lady, give me your bag and you can go." She calls, rapidly closing the distance until the barrel is pressed to your forehead. "Now." She growls, hand extended.

Your curl your lip, pulling the bag behind you and jabbing her in the nose. She stumbles back, catching herself and slamming the but of her gun into your temple. You whip around and hit her with you elbow in the breast. She winces, trying to take loose aim.

You manage a leaping spell, launching over her. You land at a sprint, turning onto the street and running for home. You don't stop, no matter how much your legs burn, or your lungs feel like they're burning, or how badly you want to just curl up on the sidewalk and fall asleep. You run until you lock the door of your house behind you, wheezing painfully through frozen lungs.

You collapse onto the couch, letting your eyelids drift shut for a quick rest. In the next second, your being gently shaken awake. Your bleary eyes open, seeing a Ticci Toby bending over you with a hard look and a black Eye.

When he sees your eyes open, he freezes, just looking at you. Something of a smile pulls at his lips before he pushes it away, his eyes turning to icey pits.

You push yourself up on shacky arms until your sitting up, your temple throbbing. You ignore it all. You open your mouth to ask what's wrong when Toby's eyes flick to the bruise.