[Henrietta curled up sideways on her bed, turning her hands back and forth and wondering if they'd change while she watched. If she dreamed it all, if she remembered dreams now
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[Costigan felt like shit. He was in a bad place with Bourne, still hadn't gotten his pills, was fucked up from the flood tampering with his memories, and was at a point of anxiety that put him on the verge of a breakdown. The person he should probably have been seeking out was Aziraphale, or maybe Bourne. Instead, he avoided both to go to the one person here he actually trusted; more than he should, probably. The girl he was choosing to help protect and keep alive and as well as he could. Which didn't mean much
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[She sat up, watching the door for a few seconds before she said anything in response.] "It's all right, sir."
[So it had happened. Costigan had changed, Aziraphale had changed, and neither one of them knew. She'd been right.
She'd been right, and they'd been wrong.
It left her feeling strangely uneasy.
Henrietta slid off her bed and went to the door, hesitating again before she cracked it open, then pulled it wide when she saw Costigan there.] "What's the matter, sir?"
"Nothing.. Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
[The former cop reached into his back pocket and pulled out a plastic knife as a sign of peace, flipping it around to catch the blade and then holding it out to her. He hoped she would accept it, hoped she would understand the deeper meaning behind it and the gesture of reconciliation.]
"Just try not to hurt anyone with it this time?" [He was only half-joking. Costigan then lifted both hands to rest on the door frame, leaning in toward her room.] "Are you doing okay?"
[She took it, holding it flat over her open palms.] "Hurt anyone... Yes. That's right. I hurt him--I was going to kill him. I don't remember why... I don't know why I didn't."
[She blinked, looking up at Costigan with a distinctly vacant expression.] "Yes, sir. Thank you."
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[So it had happened. Costigan had changed, Aziraphale had changed, and neither one of them knew. She'd been right.
She'd been right, and they'd been wrong.
It left her feeling strangely uneasy.
Henrietta slid off her bed and went to the door, hesitating again before she cracked it open, then pulled it wide when she saw Costigan there.] "What's the matter, sir?"
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[The former cop reached into his back pocket and pulled out a plastic knife as a sign of peace, flipping it around to catch the blade and then holding it out to her. He hoped she would accept it, hoped she would understand the deeper meaning behind it and the gesture of reconciliation.]
"Just try not to hurt anyone with it this time?" [He was only half-joking. Costigan then lifted both hands to rest on the door frame, leaning in toward her room.] "Are you doing okay?"
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[She blinked, looking up at Costigan with a distinctly vacant expression.] "Yes, sir. Thank you."
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