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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"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."

"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.

"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."

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

"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."

"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.

"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?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Would you mind taking this letter back and asking Bar to give it to the MacManus twins? It'll be a load off their minds."

"Sure."
It sounds like she's trying to keep family from worrying, and Angel's hardly one to get in the way of that.

"They'll worry anyway but it might keep them from doing something stupid. Thanks."

Angel shrugs. "Every little bit helps."

"With those two, that's the damned truth."

[ooc: Fade here okay? Brain melting.]

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