(Untitled)

[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]

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]

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]

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]

"...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]

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]

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]

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]

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--"