Childish Rhyme, chapter four
Adrian walked the aisles of the supermarket almost in a daze. The patrolman accompanying her asked if she was alright and she pulled herself back to the present. She managed to hold together for Iris’s sake but the stress of the day was really wearing her down. Yesterday, she realized; two in the morning already. She needed to finish her shopping and get back to the hospital before she either passed out or burst into tears.
The patrolman, whose nametag read Serv, had a thick Russian accent and a deep voice that matched his tall and muscled frame. Even though there wasn’t much strength would do to stop a stealthy poisoner she did feel better with him around. Plus his presence meant that she wouldn’t be hauling the dorm fridge into the hospital by herself.
Because there were too many chances for the hospital dinners to be tampered with they were given permission to have the fridge and store-bought food in the room. They would have access to the microwave in the nurse’s lounge down the hall so at least they weren’t confined to things that only worked cold. TV dinners filled her cart, along with several cans of simple broths and soups for the kids. Serv was hauling a separate cart with the fridge and a bag of apples. Adrian knew there was something she was going to need but the specifics eluded her...
“Oh. Caffeine.”
She wandered toward the back of the store, noticing the odd looks they were getting. She didn’t have the energy, in any sense, to care. After staring unseeing at the selection of soda for a very long time she finally picked a couple varieties and then headed towards the checkout. If she forgot anything major then Phoenix could go get it.
The whisper of her old self started whispering. It wondered if it was a good idea to leave him alone with her wife. She imagined herself squashing the voice under her heel like she would an offending spider. She wasn’t that insecure, overly-dependant person anymore. She knew Iris loved her.
The thought of her wife was enough to momentarily lift the cloud hanging over her head. Adrian tried so hard not to fall in love with Iris, scared she would form the same co-dependant bond she had with Celeste. It was no use. The dark-haired woman was just too sweet and honest. When Iris’s sentence was up and she couldn’t stand to return to the temple in which she was raised, Adrian offered her the guest bedroom almost without thinking. Her feelings only grew as she really got to know Iris, and it surprised her the day Iris admitted that she returned those feelings. Still worried about her past history of co-dependency, Adrian resisted. After a strange turn of events and an enlightening long distance conversation with Franziska von Karma, Adrian got over her fears enough to take Iris out on a date. One date turned to dozens and before she knew it they were saying their vows.
With a start Adrian realized she’d been daydreaming through the entire wait in the exceptionally long line. She hurriedly moved things from the cart to the cashier’s belt and wondered if she was going to get any sleep.
“Pillows,” she said more to herself than anyone, realizing what she forgot. “And our apartment is two hours away...” with a tired sigh she resigned herself to no sleep and a lot of caffeine in the morning. At least they had that.
~~~~~~~~~
The next day was one of insufferable waiting. The three of them sat there, reading, trying to sleep, talking to each other... and there was always the steady and depressing sound of the heart monitors ticking away their children's lives, sounding softly in the background. Trucy woke, more or less, somewhere around noon. It was expected that she would recover first but it still stung Adrian's heart when Apollo remained still. Then she spent an hour kicking herself for begrudging Trucy and Phoenix their almost happy moment. Her son would wake up eventually. Some day her wife would not look so in pain.
Since Phoenix should be there if Trucy woke again, Adrian volunteered to go out and get more supplies. She traveled to her own home and the Wright Agency to pick up pillows, toiletries, and changes of clothes. She also packed books, Iris's needlepoint, and her own ledgers and files for work. She was a productive depressed if anything so at least she'd get some work done during the agonizing wait.
~~~~~~~~~
Two days passed before Trucy was fully awake, free of both the effects of the latex and the drugs used to stop her from suffocating. She was scared most for Apollo, who'd yet to stir, and her father and Aunt Iris, and a little was reserved for herself. She was a bright girl, in every sense, and while she had her many childish quirks in many ways she acted older than her fifteen years. When she clung to her father and cried it was the first time Adrian had seen the young magician's mood dark for more than a few seconds. Adrian supposed it was healthy, given the circumstances, but she wished with all her heart that Trucy, and her dear Iris, didn't have to cry at all.
Ema came that day to personally brief the family on what the investigation yielded. The latex-dusted flowers were brought in by a van marked with the logo of a popular florist; the company could find no record of the delivery. Only one person was in the vehicle, a woman wearing a baggy white jumpsuit and a green cap pulled low. Her hair was brown, the man remembered, stuck up under the cap to keep it out of the way. Her skin was tanned but not dark, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She told him the flowers were a donation. It is assumed that she left the note while she was bringing in the flowers. No leads on the sketch yet.
The deli where Apollo got his coffee was frequented by attorneys, cops, and half the city. It was lunch hour when he stopped to get his usual bagel and coffee. The girl who checked him out says she remembered him because she teased him about having breakfast at noon. She couldn't remember exactly who was there because she was new. Turns out half the people working there were new, and with the space behind the counter as crowded as the customer's side, there was next to nothing to go on. The police took copies of all the current, former, and potential employee paperwork but there was nothing yet, and there was always the chance that the perpetrator never formally applied and simply snuck in wearing the simple green tee and jeans uniform.
Ema said they'd keep looking. Her eyes were sharp and determined, despite the damage keeping her in the wheelchair. Adrian saw the detective's resolve and felt useless, just sitting around watching her wife try not to cry and throwing herself into her gallery work to escape the sight of her son lying there looking so pale.
As soon as Ema left Adrian started making calls, talking to every contact she had that could possibly help. Phoenix followed suit, calling in the favors earned during his attorney days. They got quite a team going, looking into this or that, twisting arms to make the police's investigation go faster, everything she could think of. They would find whoever was responsible, one way or another.
~~~~~~~~~
It was eight days after the attack and Adrian was still at it even though all the leads were dead. They'd all exhausted their address books, the police were working the case around the clock, and still nothing. She didn't know where she was getting the will to keep going. She just felt so helpless, and feeling helpless always took her back to Celeste's death... she violently shook her head. She wasn't that person anymore. She could take care of herself and the people she cared about instead of sitting back and watching it all spin out of control.
She wanted the person who hurt her son to be there in the room so she could exact justice and then caught herself. That wasn't how things worked. She learned that the hard way already.
She rubbed her eyes, cleaned her glasses, and then returned to the glow of her laptop. She was scanning through her contact list, trying to find anyone she missed, some longshot she hadn't thought of yet. Everyone else was asleep; Phoenix with his head pillowed on his arms at the edge of Trucy's bed and Iris with her head on her wife's shoulder. Seeing her love in such distress, even in her dreams, gave Adrian the energy to keep going. One more click of the mouse, one more possibility checked...
She almost missed the quiet groan, and when she caught it she thought it was Phoenix. It took Apollo suddenly throwing his head to the side for it to register which side of the room it came from.
She leapt up, the clatter of her laptop hitting the floor waking everyone else and bringing their police escort running. The florescent lights flickered to life even as Apollo wearily opened his eyes.
"Hey..." he said, tired, looking up at his adoptive mother. "Wha--"
That's as far as he got before Adrian suddenly burst into tears. She hugged Apollo and cried all the tears she'd been holding in. Iris, smiling and so relieved she felt she might faint, sat on the other side of the bed and held them both.
They didn't have the guy who did it; they weren't even close. For just one moment it didn't matter.
~~~~~~~~~
Halfway across town in the musty police archives sat Ema Skye. Her ankle was set and wrapped up in a hot pink cast that she'd inked black in disgust. Her crutches were leaned up against the wall and the table she sat at was covered with files and reports. She was reading up on the Red Dahlia cases, various analysis of the poison, flower delivery schedules and invoices, anything she could. Her leg throbbed all the way up to her hip; she refused to take the pain medication because it made her mind foggy. She needed a sharp mind for the investigation, for the science...
She took another sip of the coffee that filing clerk was nice enough to get for her and pressed onwards.
The patrolman, whose nametag read Serv, had a thick Russian accent and a deep voice that matched his tall and muscled frame. Even though there wasn’t much strength would do to stop a stealthy poisoner she did feel better with him around. Plus his presence meant that she wouldn’t be hauling the dorm fridge into the hospital by herself.
Because there were too many chances for the hospital dinners to be tampered with they were given permission to have the fridge and store-bought food in the room. They would have access to the microwave in the nurse’s lounge down the hall so at least they weren’t confined to things that only worked cold. TV dinners filled her cart, along with several cans of simple broths and soups for the kids. Serv was hauling a separate cart with the fridge and a bag of apples. Adrian knew there was something she was going to need but the specifics eluded her...
“Oh. Caffeine.”
She wandered toward the back of the store, noticing the odd looks they were getting. She didn’t have the energy, in any sense, to care. After staring unseeing at the selection of soda for a very long time she finally picked a couple varieties and then headed towards the checkout. If she forgot anything major then Phoenix could go get it.
The whisper of her old self started whispering. It wondered if it was a good idea to leave him alone with her wife. She imagined herself squashing the voice under her heel like she would an offending spider. She wasn’t that insecure, overly-dependant person anymore. She knew Iris loved her.
The thought of her wife was enough to momentarily lift the cloud hanging over her head. Adrian tried so hard not to fall in love with Iris, scared she would form the same co-dependant bond she had with Celeste. It was no use. The dark-haired woman was just too sweet and honest. When Iris’s sentence was up and she couldn’t stand to return to the temple in which she was raised, Adrian offered her the guest bedroom almost without thinking. Her feelings only grew as she really got to know Iris, and it surprised her the day Iris admitted that she returned those feelings. Still worried about her past history of co-dependency, Adrian resisted. After a strange turn of events and an enlightening long distance conversation with Franziska von Karma, Adrian got over her fears enough to take Iris out on a date. One date turned to dozens and before she knew it they were saying their vows.
With a start Adrian realized she’d been daydreaming through the entire wait in the exceptionally long line. She hurriedly moved things from the cart to the cashier’s belt and wondered if she was going to get any sleep.
“Pillows,” she said more to herself than anyone, realizing what she forgot. “And our apartment is two hours away...” with a tired sigh she resigned herself to no sleep and a lot of caffeine in the morning. At least they had that.
~~~~~~~~~
The next day was one of insufferable waiting. The three of them sat there, reading, trying to sleep, talking to each other... and there was always the steady and depressing sound of the heart monitors ticking away their children's lives, sounding softly in the background. Trucy woke, more or less, somewhere around noon. It was expected that she would recover first but it still stung Adrian's heart when Apollo remained still. Then she spent an hour kicking herself for begrudging Trucy and Phoenix their almost happy moment. Her son would wake up eventually. Some day her wife would not look so in pain.
Since Phoenix should be there if Trucy woke again, Adrian volunteered to go out and get more supplies. She traveled to her own home and the Wright Agency to pick up pillows, toiletries, and changes of clothes. She also packed books, Iris's needlepoint, and her own ledgers and files for work. She was a productive depressed if anything so at least she'd get some work done during the agonizing wait.
~~~~~~~~~
Two days passed before Trucy was fully awake, free of both the effects of the latex and the drugs used to stop her from suffocating. She was scared most for Apollo, who'd yet to stir, and her father and Aunt Iris, and a little was reserved for herself. She was a bright girl, in every sense, and while she had her many childish quirks in many ways she acted older than her fifteen years. When she clung to her father and cried it was the first time Adrian had seen the young magician's mood dark for more than a few seconds. Adrian supposed it was healthy, given the circumstances, but she wished with all her heart that Trucy, and her dear Iris, didn't have to cry at all.
Ema came that day to personally brief the family on what the investigation yielded. The latex-dusted flowers were brought in by a van marked with the logo of a popular florist; the company could find no record of the delivery. Only one person was in the vehicle, a woman wearing a baggy white jumpsuit and a green cap pulled low. Her hair was brown, the man remembered, stuck up under the cap to keep it out of the way. Her skin was tanned but not dark, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She told him the flowers were a donation. It is assumed that she left the note while she was bringing in the flowers. No leads on the sketch yet.
The deli where Apollo got his coffee was frequented by attorneys, cops, and half the city. It was lunch hour when he stopped to get his usual bagel and coffee. The girl who checked him out says she remembered him because she teased him about having breakfast at noon. She couldn't remember exactly who was there because she was new. Turns out half the people working there were new, and with the space behind the counter as crowded as the customer's side, there was next to nothing to go on. The police took copies of all the current, former, and potential employee paperwork but there was nothing yet, and there was always the chance that the perpetrator never formally applied and simply snuck in wearing the simple green tee and jeans uniform.
Ema said they'd keep looking. Her eyes were sharp and determined, despite the damage keeping her in the wheelchair. Adrian saw the detective's resolve and felt useless, just sitting around watching her wife try not to cry and throwing herself into her gallery work to escape the sight of her son lying there looking so pale.
As soon as Ema left Adrian started making calls, talking to every contact she had that could possibly help. Phoenix followed suit, calling in the favors earned during his attorney days. They got quite a team going, looking into this or that, twisting arms to make the police's investigation go faster, everything she could think of. They would find whoever was responsible, one way or another.
~~~~~~~~~
It was eight days after the attack and Adrian was still at it even though all the leads were dead. They'd all exhausted their address books, the police were working the case around the clock, and still nothing. She didn't know where she was getting the will to keep going. She just felt so helpless, and feeling helpless always took her back to Celeste's death... she violently shook her head. She wasn't that person anymore. She could take care of herself and the people she cared about instead of sitting back and watching it all spin out of control.
She wanted the person who hurt her son to be there in the room so she could exact justice and then caught herself. That wasn't how things worked. She learned that the hard way already.
She rubbed her eyes, cleaned her glasses, and then returned to the glow of her laptop. She was scanning through her contact list, trying to find anyone she missed, some longshot she hadn't thought of yet. Everyone else was asleep; Phoenix with his head pillowed on his arms at the edge of Trucy's bed and Iris with her head on her wife's shoulder. Seeing her love in such distress, even in her dreams, gave Adrian the energy to keep going. One more click of the mouse, one more possibility checked...
She almost missed the quiet groan, and when she caught it she thought it was Phoenix. It took Apollo suddenly throwing his head to the side for it to register which side of the room it came from.
She leapt up, the clatter of her laptop hitting the floor waking everyone else and bringing their police escort running. The florescent lights flickered to life even as Apollo wearily opened his eyes.
"Hey..." he said, tired, looking up at his adoptive mother. "Wha--"
That's as far as he got before Adrian suddenly burst into tears. She hugged Apollo and cried all the tears she'd been holding in. Iris, smiling and so relieved she felt she might faint, sat on the other side of the bed and held them both.
They didn't have the guy who did it; they weren't even close. For just one moment it didn't matter.
~~~~~~~~~
Halfway across town in the musty police archives sat Ema Skye. Her ankle was set and wrapped up in a hot pink cast that she'd inked black in disgust. Her crutches were leaned up against the wall and the table she sat at was covered with files and reports. She was reading up on the Red Dahlia cases, various analysis of the poison, flower delivery schedules and invoices, anything she could. Her leg throbbed all the way up to her hip; she refused to take the pain medication because it made her mind foggy. She needed a sharp mind for the investigation, for the science...
She took another sip of the coffee that filing clerk was nice enough to get for her and pressed onwards.