locked ] [ you'll be steady as you go on like a blackbird through the dark

[doctorofdeath]

The arrival of Jane had certainly been an auspicious occasion for Maura, despite knowing that this city held many dangers, and could inflict untold pain upon either of them, and people they knew. Maura hadn't been a social butterfly, and never would be -- her experience with the living was always far less conventional than most people's -- but she

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[thelightofgrace]

Where death goes, Charlie Wellman follows.

Or, in this case, where a forseen death goes, Charlie Wellman is obligated to follow. And when his current charge happens to be running towards another dead body, well -- then Charlie's along for the ride, whether he wants it or not. He can't help the person who's fallen. Fortunately, an angel of death can only see one death at a time -- there are small favors even with a Calling as terrible as his -- but he was an army medic once upon a time, so there has to be something he knows that's helpful.

He drops to his knees next to his body. "How did this happen?" The Wanderer isn't one he recognizes, neither of them are, but there are so many of them that it isn't uncommon in this city.

[doctorofdeath]

She recognizes Charlie immediately, and knows what that means. Even before he'd arrived, she'd known what the outcome would be, but his presence confirms her worst suspicions. She hasn't even touched the body yet, but her clothes are stained with his blood.

There's one final, heart-wrenching gasp, and then he grows still, limp.

The man who rushed over to help takes a few steps back, now that Charlie's here. He's leaning against the wall, watching everything, waiting to see if he can still help.

"I can't help him," she murmurs again, hating the feeling of helplessness that paralyzes her right now. The last time she was this close to a dying man, it was Frankie Rizzoli she was trying to save. Thankfully, her efforts then had been successful.

She looks at Charlie, her dark eyes obviously pained. "The Chicago Liberation Front, they did this. They targeted him, they taped it," her voice drips with disgust.

[thelightofgrace]

"Sometimes we aren't meant to," he says softly, before reaching over and closing the eyes of the dead man gently. It's a futile gesture, really, and a bit cliche, but they always seem a bit more peaceful that way. He pauses for a moment, a quick silent prayer, before turning to address the rest of what she said.

"That sounds like them," Charlie sighs. "There's a whole lot of ugly in this city. More than most, I'm afraid."

[doctorofdeath]

His words make sense on some level, she knows that is simply reality much of the time, but it's a hollow comfort right now. That's not his fault, really, but more an issue with her own mind

locked ] [ later in the day, at Maura's apartment

[doctorofdeath]

Maura knows what she saw, she knows exactly what happened, but her mind is still trying to catch up to it all. She feels ten paces behind where she normally is. Even her physical body is weakened, sluggish, unable to support itself. Jane had to support her up the stairs.

The last time it was that difficult to carry her own body weight was that Christmas five years when she'd caught a particularly virulent strain of the flu; just trying to make it to the bathroom took a gargantuan amount of effort. It's the same now. She feels sick, tired, horrified by what's happened. She brought a man back to life, but another one died.

It's such a terrible price to be paid.

[seriously]

It wasn't as if Jane knew what was going on, but she knew that something had happened and it wasn't meant to happen. That guy, that Charlie guy, he seemed just as unsure as the rest of them and Maura wasn't really in any shape to explain everything to the fullest.

The fact that Maura had been weakened by whatever had happened, that seemed to take precedence for Jane's mindset. She needed to get her back to her apartment and get her resting, because if this was going to get worse - she needed to know how bad and what was going on.

"C'mon, we're almost there," Jane stated it mostly to herself, mostly trying to give herself the reassurance that this was going to help.

[doctorofdeath]

She nodded wordlessly, wishing some answer would come to her, at least one that she could be relatively at peace with. She turned the key in the lock, let Jane lead her inside, and then sank into the sofa cushions, shutting her eyes as the weight of everything that had transpired threatened to overwhelm her. She needed to shower, and change her clothes, and slept for quite some time. The human body only required five to eight hours, on average, but the way she was feeling, she wouldn't be surprised if she slept for twelve.

She drew in a deep breath, opening her eyes slowly to look at Jane.

"That man -- that other man, he died because of me," her voice was almost a whisper.

[seriously]

Feeling this helpless, this unable to help with whatever Maura was going through, it sank in her gut like a rock. Exhaling, she watched her friend settle on the couch and moved to go get her a glass of water. It was a start at least.

"Here, take small sips and you can't take that blame on." Jane sat beside Maura, her hand patting gently to the back of her friend's head. "You didn't want that to happen and, I mean, that's never happened before. You couldn't have even thought to know about it."