awickedtime | The darkness at the door...

The darkness at the door...

He comes and goes. Mostly, he's up at the top of the mountain, causing what trouble he can, helping out the prisoners, doing everything he can to make things a little more bearable. He sees Sabrina as much as he can, finds her beautiful and terrible in a way that's altogether too familiar. It's a role that comes naturally to her, and he knows that neither of them are entirely comfortable with that.

It's dark (of course), when he comes up for air, heading down the mountain to shower and change into warmer clothes. He'll probably have to burn everything he's worn up there; the smell clings in the fibres.

He's dressed in warm layers, stout boots, coat and scarf when he knocks the door of Marcus' cabin. In cat form, Salem twines around his ankles.

"We'll go back soon, man," he says, quietly. "She'll be okay without us for a little while."

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It's a little better, having Kat and Dan at the house, knowing Neil is safe, but even still, Marcus worries constantly about Sabrina. The worry has nothing to do with his faith in her, he knows she's capable and smart and strong, but at the end of it all, she's still a teenager. And Marcus knows very much what it's like to be a teenager with a calling. What it feels like to think there are no other choices.

At the sound of a knock on the door, he knows better than to get his hopes up. Sabrina would just come inside.

Still, at the sight of Nick, Marcus flashes a relieved smile. If nothing else, Nick will have news, and he steps aside, ushering him into the warmth. Even when the power goes out, they're comfortable here, with two fireplaces going.

"Get warm," he says, closing the door tight behind Nick. "We just put on some tea, I'll get you some."

"That would be wonderful, thank you," says Nick, chafing his hands together, unwinding his scarf but leaving his coat buttoned for the moment. Salem pads past him, making a beeline for the rug in front of the fire. It's not just Nick who's feeling the cold. "I wanted to come by before I headed back up there."

"I appreciate it," Marcus answers as he leads the way into the kitchen to pour Nick a steaming mug of tea. There's cream and sugar waiting on the table for him if he wants.

"And I'm assuming everything is... well, it's as okay as it can be, under the circumstances."

Sabrina is still in an incredibly dangerous situation. He's still angry with himself for having been injured trying to help Dan, knowing he can't very well do much to help with his knee in its current state.

Nick sits on the edge of the couch, adds sugar to his tea but leaves it black. He cradles the cup between his hands, letting the warmth leach into his palms.

"She's doing well," he says. "We're doing our best to keep Charlie and Rosie, the others going. Salem and I have been doing what we can. We start a lot of fires."

The words don't calm Marcus's nerves as much as he would have liked. Doing well can mean all kinds of things and he understands what Sabrina's plan has been, why she's there in the first place, and the danger she's putting herself in. Doing well likely means far too much exposure to the thing in charge of all this.

Still, all he can do is nod. He can't very well ask her to stop.

"Trass is up there, too," he says. "The wolf that lives here. Salem should be able to find him if you need a little more... brute force."

Nick has managed to avoid Trass so far; Sabrina had warned him, and he's not really ready to see another wolf, not so soon after losing Amalia the way he had. He blows across the surface of his tea before he takes a sip.

"She's got a plan," he says. "I'm just waiting to be there when she needs me to be."

"She always has a plan, that one," Marcus says a bit wearily. He worries about her, as he's sure Nick does, too, but he doesn't know how to help. His world is an entirely different one, built on exorcisms and the force of banishing demons, not posing as their potential bride in order to do whatever is necessary.

"I'm glad you're up there with her," he says. "I'd go back, but one of those creatures clubbed my knee so hard the damn thing is still black." He's limping still and he can't put weight on it for too long without the ache returning.

"She does," says Nick, remembering everything that she's done before, everything that she's figured out, everything that she's made happen. He looks at Marcus' leg for a long moment. "I can probably help with that? I can't heal it, not all the way, but I can probably...I can make it feel a better better." He remembers what he did for Sabrina, what he did for Rosie, and Charlie, and everyone else he can.

"Yeah?" Marcus asks, genuinely curious. Not all that long ago, he wouldn't have been. Before Darrow, he knows what he would have thought of an offer like that, knows he would have immediately been suspicious and suspected Nick of being in league with demons.

But Darrow has changed a lot of things for Marcus. And his view of what is good and what is evil has become a lot less narrow.

"I don't think I'd mind a bit less pain," he says with a smile. "Thank you."

Nick takes another sip of his tea and then sets the cup down, shrugging out of his jacket when he does it. He slips down onto his knees in front of Marcus, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow. "It'll feel weird," he explains, palms of his hands grazing Marcus' knee over the fabric of his pants. "Warm. You might feel giddy for a moment or two. Drunk, almost."

At a time like this, a shot or two might not feel so terrible, although Marcus hasn't been drinking because Dan can't drink. So feeling giddy or little drunk for a moment is actually kind of appealing and he smiles faintly at Nick's words.

"Go ahead," he says. "Even an ex-priest like me can hold his liquor."

Moments in which he feels like he can make a joke are few and far between right now, but he can't help himself. It's better to lighten the mood at least a little when he can. Even if the mood doesn't feel terribly light at all.

Nick smiles, but it's distracted, far-away, the words for the incantation already shaping on his lips as he starts to ghost his hands over Marcus injured knee. Just like when he'd made Rosie feel better, he pictures light and heat. He lets it flow from him into Marcus. It's only a little spell, but it helps.

As Nick had warned, he does feel a little giddy. His knee warms, almost as if it's been bathed in sunlight, then the feeling recedes with the giddiness and the ache fades with it.

It's not healed, he can tell, he'll still need to be careful and to put ice on it later, but the pain is significantly reduced, as is the swelling. When he moves his leg carefully, most of the stiffness is gone, too.

"That is better," he says with a smile. "Thank you."

Still on his knees, Nick smiles up at him and then stands, sitting back down on the couch and reaching for his tea, cradling it in his hands again, enjoying the warmth. It's cooled down enough to sip.

"It'll last too," he says. "I'm sorry I can't do more."

"You've done plenty," Marcus says and he doesn't only mean his knee, but everything Nick is doing up there at Kagura with Sabrina. It's no easy task, he knows, getting in and out of that place, but Nick is up there helping wherever he can.

"It helps to know you're up there with her," he adds. "If that weren't the case, I doubt I'd be above charging back up there, injured knee or not."

"I'm keeping an eye on our girl," he says, sipping his tea. "I'll be there when she needs me. I can...boost her, if she needs it. If she needs me."

Marcus doesn't know whether or not she'll need the boost Nick is talking about, whether or not her magic is enough to handle this on her own, but still he says, "She'll need you."

Because it's not just magic she needs from him. From Charlie. From Marcus himself and her friends at the Home. From Salem. They're more than that.

"And I'll be there," says Nick, meaning it utterly, with every fibre of him. "I've let her down enough times. I'm not doing it again."

Marcus nods, believing Nick completely, oddly able to trust him with this. He's not always the most trusting man in the world, he tends to see people as generally good, but not always necessarily as honest with themselves as they like to think they are. With Nick, though, when it comes to Sabrina, Marcus doesn't think he's fooling himself. He really does believe Nick will do whatever is necessary.

It'd hard not to think that, knowing what he's already sacrificed for her.

"I'm glad you are," he says honestly. "Helps with the worrying a little."

"I'll bring her home," he says. "Or back to my place, anyway. It...feels important for the four of us to be together, once we get them out. I hope you understand that." He looks at Marcus from under dark eyebrows. He realises tahat he's asking for even more trust.

Marcus doesn't particularly like that, nor does he know if he really understands it, but he also knows he won't be able to force Sabrina to come home before she's ready. For all it pains him, he makes himself nod.

"But you have her call me the second she's able," he says. "And if I have to track you all down myself, I'm seeing her the next day."

He doesn't leave room for any sort of negotiation on that and doesn't think he needs to. Sabrina will want to see him, too.

"You have my word," says Nick, hoping that that's still worth something with everything that Marcus knows about him, about what he's done. "I'll bring here here myself. Or Charlie will."

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The darkness at the door...

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