Whenever there's a crowded night out in the bar and even when there's not one if he's in his office, Sonny monitors the emotions that are happening right outside the door. It is important. Even with his own people manning the bar and serving the drinks, he wants and needs to be aware of everything that goes down in the bar. This is one of those ways as much as they have discussed how dangerous it is to use their powers and as much as he should cut himself off.
It is why he is acutely aware of Lena as she's walking down the stairs, and it is impossible to say how he can recognize emotions well enough that in some instances, he knows who it is that's having them. None of them are hers but she feels them as though they are hers so he knows.
Lena has worried him for weeks on end. It is different this time. There isn't-- there are specific examples of why it is different this time, but there's something in him that knows that this is it. She will lose her mind, and it is like he has been waiting for it when he feels that... that demon
( ... )
It's like being enveloped in a thick, heady cloud, making it almost impossible to be aware of anything but the gold-spun fog. There's an overwhelming and overloading of the senses, heightened to the point it doesn't feel real. She keeps shutting her eyes and opening them moments later, as if that will dispel the haziness that keeps trapping her vision into something darker
( ... )
It's time. Sonny knew it on her way down, but he has never been more aware of it than he is in this moment with the way she's bumping up against things and sliding into them. There's that-- more than that, there's this overwhelming feeling that he's getting from her. It's not like any of their resets before.
It's so much further, and it makes sense because she's never used the abilities. Here they've been clawing away at the inside of her since she was sixteen screaming to be let out and used as it was 'meant' to be used. It's been building up for years, and it is a wonder that she lived this long never letting any of that pressure out.
It is like trying to bottle something that's too powerful to be encased behind glass. The glass is not just her body. It's her. Everything that makes Lena who she is and who he loves. It's her love of the Beatles, her quirky comments in an attempt to cheer others up, her way of telling stories to Max and anyone else who will listen, her ability to love with her whole heart giving all of herself, her
( ... )
The pressure keeps building inside her head. She's surprised it hasn't exploded with the weight as it adds itself on, the throbbing growing to an unbearable level. There's a roaring right behind her ears and it whooshes past her with the speed of a freight train. Her mind spins off its axis and she plummets along with it. It is unlike anything she has ever experienced, and she has never been more terrified and exhilirated in her life
( ... )
It is difficult to describe Lucky's mental state since he read Sonny's post. It is like knowing that the other half of you is in trouble or dead or in pain, having no idea where they are. It is the most terrifying hours of his life, because he has no idea if he'll ever find her or if there's anything to be found or if all the time that he is wasting looking in the wrong places will lead to her death.
When Gates told them what he found out about what had happened, Lucky did not know how to react. He couldn't formulate a sentence to react to it. They had all known that she was sick and spiraling. Lucky knows her so well, and he'd seen those changes in her firsthand, and it was killing him, but to think that it could have been over that night and that he could have lost her without ever saying goodbye or being with her in those final moments, and he didn't even know? He wasn't even with her. He should have been with her.
Nothing feels more wrong than knowing that he wasn't there. She must have been terrified and broken, and God
( ... )
Her wings are still out, nearly covering her whole frame as it shakes quietly within a small corner inside the church. She hasn't been able to slide the wings back in and it's been hours. She doesn't know how many hours have actually passed, but it feels like there have been a lot of them. Hours, that is. The moment she tries sliding them back in, that blinding pain in her shoulder blades returns, blood prickling against her back from within the open space where they've pushed out forcefully.
One more reminder she is not as in control as she would like to think.
She doesn't know how long she walked down dark streets aimlessly, the dizzying sensation lessening into a euphoric buzz, every person passing by her a flame beckoning her over. She wanted even more, hadn't gotten enough of the high. Nearly nine full years of caged hunger and it's finally set free. She's scared it'll never be satisfied
( ... )
Lucky has no idea what to expect. He has been told and prepared as much as anyone could prepare him for this moment, but every calling experience and brush in with insanity is different. No one can know what it is like until it has been experienced in its completeness. Even Lena wouldn't know all the details, how it would really be until she'd felt it.
He doesn't know what to look for when searching those pews. He doesn't know if she'll be scared or crying or trying to lash out at him. It doesn't make a difference, because he would still be looking for her. He can do nothing else. Lucky belongs with her, and it has felt so wrong not being with her while she was going through all of this.
It is what's kept him searching the city nonstop from the moment that he saw that entry without even thinking to stop and ask anyone if they had seen her. It wasn't about clues. There was no thought involved at all. It was one more moment where Lucky Spencer acted on his heart, and his heart was screaming at him to find her. He had to find her
( ... )
The night they met, they were tossed into freezing water, forced into their shapeshifting forms, and once she'd found her way to the shore, her wings found their way out of her skin. She'd hated him seeing them, even then, all those months ago, and it isn't any different now. She hates them for what they represent, for the differences they mark, and for how little she can actually control them when the time comes. Some would say wings are beautiful. To her, they're shameful, regardless of how they look.
Fictional angels have wings.
Animals have wings.
People are not supposed to have wings.
But really, who was she fooling? She was fooling herself and everyone around her, and now she's roped Lucky into this world, into this relationship, into this bottomless pit and the last thing she ever wanted was to bring him down with her. For all the darkness inside of him that's scared him, he's good. He's good and he's caring and he always tries to do the right thing. He shouldn't be here. In this world, in this church, in this hopeless
( ... )
Comments 32
It is why he is acutely aware of Lena as she's walking down the stairs, and it is impossible to say how he can recognize emotions well enough that in some instances, he knows who it is that's having them. None of them are hers but she feels them as though they are hers so he knows.
Lena has worried him for weeks on end. It is different this time. There isn't-- there are specific examples of why it is different this time, but there's something in him that knows that this is it. She will lose her mind, and it is like he has been waiting for it when he feels that... that demon ( ... )
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It's so much further, and it makes sense because she's never used the abilities. Here they've been clawing away at the inside of her since she was sixteen screaming to be let out and used as it was 'meant' to be used. It's been building up for years, and it is a wonder that she lived this long never letting any of that pressure out.
It is like trying to bottle something that's too powerful to be encased behind glass. The glass is not just her body. It's her. Everything that makes Lena who she is and who he loves. It's her love of the Beatles, her quirky comments in an attempt to cheer others up, her way of telling stories to Max and anyone else who will listen, her ability to love with her whole heart giving all of herself, her ( ... )
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When Gates told them what he found out about what had happened, Lucky did not know how to react. He couldn't formulate a sentence to react to it. They had all known that she was sick and spiraling. Lucky knows her so well, and he'd seen those changes in her firsthand, and it was killing him, but to think that it could have been over that night and that he could have lost her without ever saying goodbye or being with her in those final moments, and he didn't even know? He wasn't even with her. He should have been with her.
Nothing feels more wrong than knowing that he wasn't there. She must have been terrified and broken, and God ( ... )
Reply
One more reminder she is not as in control as she would like to think.
She doesn't know how long she walked down dark streets aimlessly, the dizzying sensation lessening into a euphoric buzz, every person passing by her a flame beckoning her over. She wanted even more, hadn't gotten enough of the high. Nearly nine full years of caged hunger and it's finally set free. She's scared it'll never be satisfied ( ... )
Reply
He doesn't know what to look for when searching those pews. He doesn't know if she'll be scared or crying or trying to lash out at him. It doesn't make a difference, because he would still be looking for her. He can do nothing else. Lucky belongs with her, and it has felt so wrong not being with her while she was going through all of this.
It is what's kept him searching the city nonstop from the moment that he saw that entry without even thinking to stop and ask anyone if they had seen her. It wasn't about clues. There was no thought involved at all. It was one more moment where Lucky Spencer acted on his heart, and his heart was screaming at him to find her. He had to find her ( ... )
Reply
Fictional angels have wings.
Animals have wings.
People are not supposed to have wings.
But really, who was she fooling? She was fooling herself and everyone around her, and now she's roped Lucky into this world, into this relationship, into this bottomless pit and the last thing she ever wanted was to bring him down with her. For all the darkness inside of him that's scared him, he's good. He's good and he's caring and he always tries to do the right thing. He shouldn't be here. In this world, in this church, in this hopeless ( ... )
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