(no subject)

[sai_delgado]

It's morning-- early still, although not quite dawn. There'd been no word when she'd gone out.

She's finished her stable-work now, and come back to the bar. There's still no word from the angel, and Susan's worried.

Biting her lip, she heads to Bernard and Nymphadora's flat, and knocks on the door.

Comments

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

There's no answer at first, but then Susan might be able to discern the distinctive sound of a scampering puppy.

Also, yipping.

And cursing.

But that's not really the dog.

Bernard opens the door. His hair's a little askew.

Just be glad he's clothed. He's been taking care of his sick wife for way too long.

"Susan, hey!" He steps aside, smiling brightly. "Come on in."

Starved for adult conversation that doesn't involve mucus?

Never.

[sai_delgado]

"Good-morn, Bernard," she says as she steps through the door. Her own smile is there, but a shadow of its normal self, and she's twisting her hands together. "Long -- long days and pleasant nights."

A beat. "How's-- how's 'Dora?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He winces and makes a so-so hand.

"All right. Not nearly so much of a leaky faucet. How are you?" His eyebrows draw together a bit. "You look kind of-- troubled."

[sai_delgado]

A half-laugh, a little choked. "Not-- not me."

A beat. "Hestia-- did she-- I left a message with the bar, did she carry it, do'ee ken?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard blinks, and his eyes unfocus for a second.

"Yeah. Yeah, she did. Bar hasn't--" He sighs and grins sheepishly. "I think Bar's been sorta quiet for a few days, 'cause she knew I was so busy."

[sai_delgado]

"That were kind of her, to spare thee so," she says.

And oh, but Susan looks relieved. Very relieved. She bites her lip, hesitating, and then asks,

"Were there-- were there a response?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"...No, I don't think so." Now he's suspicious. He knows who it was to, but not what it said.

"Why were you writing the angel?"

[sai_delgado]

Susan looks down at her hands.

"I didn't-- I didn't know what else to do."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

There is mild flailing.

"About what?"

[sai_delgado]

"Something's wrong with Crowley."

She looks up at him, and her expression is one of miserable guilt. "I -- he weren't himself, and I-- I couldn't help, he wouldn't say what were the matter, and-- something's wrong, Bernard, and I didn't know what to do--"

(six thousand years)

"-- so I thought Aziraphael would know."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

And that stops him dead.

Bernard lowers himself to the arm of the couch, completely focused on Susan, rumpled clothes, messy hair, and all.

"Tell me exactly how he was acting."

[sai_delgado]

Oh, and his reaction alarms her further. Susan shifts nervously from foot to foot as she stands before him, trying to recall.

"He were-- he were distant, and-- and slow to respond to things--"

(I'm fine)

"--he said he were fine, but he-- he were so cold, Bernard, and he-- he didn't react to things, and he -- he forgot--"

She's fighting back tears now, as she remembers.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard's more than a little pale.

"Forgot what?"

[sai_delgado]

"It were-- it were a little thing, all of it little things, but-- but he were so different--"

She forces herself to slow down, and says softly,

"He forgot -- the greeting, ye ken? 'And may ye have twice the number,' he didn't say it. And he-- he were so remote-- there were naught of feeling to him-- he wouldn't take my hand-- he--"

She swallows hard, and falls silent. Desperate fear and worry true, and hurt as well-- but worry more than anything.

"Do'ee-- do'ee ken why?" A plaintive whisper. "I couldn't-- I couldn't help him. He wouldn't let me-- I couldn't--"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard's at a loss.

"I--" He looks around the room, as if he's going to find the answer in the walls.

"Haven't seen him like that since--"

(Angel sinned)

"--December."

He runs a hand through his hair.

"Jesus."

[sai_delgado]

And this triggers a reaction that he might not have expected-- sudden, shining hope. Susan clasps her hands together tightly.

"Do'ee-- do'ee say so? And he were-- he were all right, then, after-- after whatever it was--"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard snorts.

"'Course he was. Not sure what you mean."

[sai_delgado]

"I only-- I meant, if ye've-- if ye've seen him so, and I weren't-- I weren't here then," she stammers, "and he were all right after, then--"

"--then he'll be all right, mayhap?"

It's not a question.

(blackbird)

It's a plea.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"...He's always all right. Eventually."

Right. Right. Because if he can survive Iskander, he can survive whatever this is.

[sai_delgado]

Susan closes her eyes in relief.

Softly, "Aziraphael will know what to do, I wot."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He'd better.

"Sure he will."

Bernard's hands are already itching for pen and paper.

[sai_delgado]

A quiet sigh, and then Susan opens her eyes and flushes slightly, looking at him.

"I-- I didn't mean to trouble thee, so early-- I only wanted to know if there'd been an answer."

Hesitantly, she continues, "I - I asked him to send word, if there were aught else could be done."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard sighs.

"Could be he hasn't opened it yet, because he's with a bunch of priests talking shop. Hestia hasn't come back, so she may be waiting for him to write."

[sai_delgado]

Susan bites her lip. This is rather less of a comfort, to think that mayhap the angel doesn't yet know--

"Was there-- should I have done something else? To-- somehow--"

She trails off, uncertain and unhappy.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Susan--" Bernard begins, exasperated. He sighs.

"How old is Crowley?"

[sai_delgado]

"Six thousand years."

Without hesitation.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"And he'll be around for another sixty thousand. Whatever it is, he'll be okay."

He smiles, reassuring and not a little fake.

"I promise."

[sai_delgado]

The falsehood is clear, and Susan jerks back from him in surprised hurt.

"Don't-- don't act so--"

A careful, ragged breath, and she tells him,

"I'll believe ye--"

Oh, how she wants to.

"--but don't act so!"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

The smile is gone.

"Until I hear from anyone at all, this is how I have to act."

[sai_delgado]

(dinh)

Susan takes a deep breath, quiet now in the face of his retort.. He's known Crowley longer than she-- and seen him like this before, say true.
(leader)

It can't be easy for him, and there's naught of good that can come by her making it harder. Looking down at the floor, she nods.

(protector)

"... cry yer pardon."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

And as soon as the words leave his mouth, his eyes lose their hardness, his cheeks' pale, dull patina gives way to a shamed flush, and he opens his mouth to apologize, automatically.

But he doesn't.

Because this is a family affair.

(close ranks)

And all he has here is his instinct, and his instinct says that, for Christ's sake, he hasn't even told his wife.

Finally, he speaks. "It's all right."

[sai_delgado]

She sees none of this, as she's watching the floor rather determinedly-- but Susan glances up as he speaks, and offers him a rueful smile.

"Aye, and it will be. Thee promised."

Quiet acceptance, and then she glances past him to the rest of the apartment, and back up at his face.

"I should-- I should go, I wot-- there's work to be done still."

It's early, so very early yet.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"There is."

A short sigh, and Bernard stands, almost awkward.

"I'll write them both."

[sai_delgado]

"I'll-- I'll leave thee to it, then," she tells him.

She doesn't ask if he'll let her know what he hears-- she trusts that he will.

Susan pauses by the door. "I wish-- say sorry, that I had to bring ye such news."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

At this, Bernard sighs again and walks over to pull her into a half-hug, kissing her temple. "Thank you for bringing it. I'd never have known otherwise. And it's Dora and I, in the end, with the angel, who'll probably have to address it."

He steps back. "I'll see you."

[sai_delgado]

She couldn't help, but mayhap they can.

(ka-tet - me and mine)

Susan nods, and says softly, "Then ye're-- thee are welcome, Bernard, say true."

A small wave, and she slips out the door and is gone.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard leans agains the door, watching her go.

Fuck.

He disappears into the flat, to write two letters for when Hestia returns.