lvpd_sidle | Visitation

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Visitation

The sheriff had brought her the news personally.

Found dead in his holding cell...no inquiry...statements...case closed.

She breathed in as deeply as she comfortably could, and let it out. Relaxing fully against her pillows in the hospital.

Safe. From him at least. And they still won't tell me his name.

Not her problem anymore.

The bruises stood out in sharp contrast against her skin, and all her movement was stiff, ginger. Barring an infection, she would be released in another two days.

She had finished the book Angel sent. She had terrorized the orderlies with the toy Naraht so thoughtfully provided.

She was bored.

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"Angel!" Jerking up immediately reminds her that, yes, she's in the hospital bed for a reason. Cue muttered Gaelic profanity. "Hi."

"I know. And it's a possibility, but it's not probable. So I'm just trying to remember that. But thanks. I really do appreciate it."

He gently squeexes her hand and nods.

"I suppose we should let you heal..."

He looks at her closely.

"I respect your work, daughter, and know that what you did, you did to stop another worse fate. My pride in you only grows."

"Hey, don't hurt yourself worse on my behalf, you'll just be here longer. You holding up all right?"

"Other than boredom and dispositions, yeah, I'm doing okay. Haven't been having nightmares like I would've expected."

She can't speak after that. She can only give both of them ginger hugs and wordlessly promise to return.

"Well, that's something. How'd you like the book?"

"It was good, very good. Not something I would normally read, but I think I'll check out more from the same author."

She closes the book in question, laying it aside. "And thanks for making me sleep that day. If I hadn't..." she shudders.

Guppy nods.

"You're right, oh man that came out all wrong. I just meant I'm here if you want to talk not that I thought you had it. Sorry, I'll shut up now."

He rubs his forehead, feeling particularly verbally inadequate at this point in time. He'll never forget when he thought he had contracted hepetitis B.

"Mark let me borrow his copy, while I was in the hospital. They're good books for passing the time, especially in places like this.
"No problem. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but I didn't think it'd help you much if you were more than half asleep. Granted, I had no idea anything like this was coming..."
But still.

"Didn't put it together until he was there. I went to the last crime scene and did a walk through, looking at various other photographs. He would write the victims' names in blood on the walls. And then I saw he emphasized certain letters. Spelling out my name." Her voice has gone rough at this point.

"Then he was there. And he looked so normal. I tried to fight him, got in a few solid hits. But he gassed me with chloroform."

"It's okay. I'm just trying to think of other things is all."

"...I really don't get people sometimes. But hey, you had the presence of mind to fight back. Gotta count for something."

Guppy nods. "Of course, I'm sorry."

He gives her a smile. "Here, this'll cheer you up." he passes her a photograph of three tiny kittens, two blonde and one black.

"Scampi's been busy."

"They'll do an autopsy and see if there was a physical reason to explain what he did. Might've been syphilis or Frontal Lobe syndrome."

"Awww, they're adorable!" Women like kittens. It's a thing. The lethal cute factor.

Guppy grins.

"Born a couple of days ago. Amanda's adopting two of them when they're weaned so you might get to see them in the flesh."

"Even so, people are just messed up sometimes. One of those things that makes me wonder how the hell I'm still an optimist."
Probably because he's no good at worrying.

"I'll look forward to that."

"You don't strike me as the kind that worries too much about anything. That probably helps."

"Point. I don't worry without good cause - it's not my strong suit."
Roger, definitely. Mark, somewhat. Angel? No way.

"As for me, I'm very good at worrying. But it's normally about stuff I intellectually know I can do anything about. But I worry anyway."

And that reminds her of something. "Would you mind doing me a favor?"

He smiles.

"I'm hoping they won't be too much trouble. The mum seems as bad as Scampi. She apparently steals spoons and tried to give birth in the laundry basket."

She laughs. "Cats are troublemakers by nature. I think it's genetic."

"Hehe, with a father who eats socks and shoelaces as well, who knows."

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