Enter the dreaming....

[bostonhowler]

Who: Brigid + everyone, again
Where: Brigid’s head
When: Days 83-88
Warnings: Death and car accidents

1. Brigid looks around and laughs, shoving someone to the side before skipping away from him. The boy is about her age, well built. His black hair flops into his eyes that hold just a hint of gold. Another boy lunges at her and Brigid ducks out of his way and around a large, barrel-chested man who rolls his eyes and scoops her up. He drops her over his shoulder ignoring her laughing protest.

The moon rises overhead and all of them suddenly look up. The man puts Brigid down and touches her shoulder. Then his eyes flash red and they take off into the woods.

There’s yipping and laughing and taunts, as well as yelps as they run through the woods together. Brigid and a group of boys break off together, running along familiar paths, leaping logs and dodging around trees. Between one bend and the next, they go from humans running on two feet to werewolves, fully changed, running on four. The five of them race through a small stream, racing each other to be the first….

2. Brigid is a tiny little thing of six. She’s got pigtails that are curly and freckles across her nose. She’s humming along with the radio, flipping through the book in her lap. She’s sitting in the middle seat of the back, so she can look up and right there is Mom.

A pretty blonde woman sits up front, singing in a gentle alto, driving.

After that, everything happens in slow motion – Brigid’s book goes flying out of her hands and she falls to the side, catching her wrist on the door. The other side of the car buckles inward, and there’s a scream that echoes through the air, ringing in her ears. No other sound is heard. Just the scream.

3. (OOC: Note, this takes place after the full moon on Day 84.) The Alpha’s house isn’t huge, but it is large and comfortable. Family pictures march along the walls in a display of years through the growth of the children. Older pictures of family members lost is also there.

Brigid walks through the living room, her father’s scent drawing her onward. The greens, blues and purples of the living room flow into the yellows and blues of the kitchen. She opens the basement door.

That’s when the scent of blood is overwhelming. Her father’s blood. Brigid races down the stairs and stops, seeing the Alpha, several senior pack members and no one else. “What happened? Where’s Da?” She’s calm, but the internal panic ratchets her heartbeat and breathing higher. She wants her Da.

The Alpha is a big man, barrel-chested with arms as big as her thighs. His hands are callused. The basement is poured cement, with nothing else down here, not even appliances. A small trunk sits in the corner, marked with the Alpha’s symbol.

“Where’s Da?!” She almost screams it at them, the fear overwhelming her.

The Alpha’s eyes flash red. “Pack your things. You’ll stay in the guest room.” He walks over and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Brigid, I had to accept his challenge. He wouldn’t back down. I’m sorry.” Then he leaves her there, the other pack members filing out behind him.

Brigid just collapses to her knees and stares at the bare cement floor.

Comments

[servingmichael]

"There's nothing wrong with being angry with a parent for not being there when you need them." There's no wavering in his voice, an ironclad certainty. "And God is more than capable of handing a child's anger without slight."

Slowly he rocked her, gently, rubbing her back. "I know. Losing a parent isn't easy. It doesn't really get easier, but it fades in time." He could look into her life, give her the answers she wants, but this doesn't really matter right now.

[bostonhowler]

"No it doesn't." Brigid denies. "It still hurts, as much as it did the day they left." She still misses her mother every second of every day. Her Da dying is a fresh raw wound that there isn't a balm for.

"It always hurts. You just learn to ignore it more." At least she had.

[servingmichael]

"It fades. You are still very young, and these wounds take time." His voice was serious, but completely understanding. He'd grieved his Father a long time - still did - but it hurt less than it once had. Accepting He was never going to return had helped.

[bostonhowler]

She just buries her face in his neck and wraps her arms around his neck tighter. "I miss them both so much. I miss all of them."

Brigid wants her pack back. She wants her home back. Brigid sniffles some but doesn't move her face. For once, she's taking all the comfort that someone is offering her. She needs it. Even if it's only in a dream.

[servingmichael]

He cradles her close, holding a child an easy second nature to him. "I know, believe me I do know."

He wants his brothers back. His Father less so, but there had been a time when he had wanted Him back too. And he's glad to be able to comfort someone with a similar ache.

[bostonhowler]

She remains where she is for a few minutes. "Can you wake me up, please?" Brigid whispers. "I don't want to see this any more. I can hear all the sirens still, and... please?" Brigid hates asking for favors, but this is one time where she can't do it herself. His comfort is so welcome, but not here.

[servingmichael]

"I can." It takes a moment, but she wakes - and Raphael in the room with her. He doubted she would find much comfort in an empty room.

[bostonhowler]

Brigid sits up with a gasp, choking on her hair for a moment and buries her face in her hands. It hasn't been that vivid in a long time. Probably the issues with going Omega.

Scraping her hair back, Brigid wraps her arms around her knees. "Thank you." She doesn't even have to look over to know he's there. Where else would he be?

[servingmichael]

Raphael sat down next to Brigid, wrapping an arm around her back. "You're welcome." He disliked to dream himself, and having had one dream recently of FatherGod leaving, he did somewhat understand her pain.

[bostonhowler]

Brigid curls into his side, taking the comfort he's offering. She's always found comfort in prayer; this is just having the intermediary there instead of elsewhere.

"I have always tried to forgive the man that killed her. He was young, and drunk, and stupid." She admits. "But I've never quite been able to do it. I know the Church says I should, but I can't."

It's one of her failings and she knows it, but that man had taken her mother, and she hated him for it.

[servingmichael]

Raphael slides his arm around her, his shoulder hunched forward a bit more than the motion called for.

"I have little doubt that in time you will. It's a natural thing, to dislike, even hate, someone who took your parent away." He understood it was why some of the angels hated humanity so much.

[bostonhowler]

"Thirteen years and I still can't." She's treating him almost like a Father Confessor. It makes sense in her mind. Since, he's an Archangel.

"I guess it doesn't matter here." Brigid knows that. "I'll worry about it when I return to Boston." She doesn't want to go home yet, though. She's not sure she can face her Alpha.

[servingmichael]

"Thirteen years isn't so long." Two hundred thousand or there abouts and he hasn't forgiven Lucifer.

"Forgiveness also doesn't mean you aren't angry. But it's not something you should force yourself into." He did think, in time, she would. But he knew that might take a lifetime.

[bostonhowler]

She takes a deep breath, rubbing a hand over her face. Brigid is caught by a yawn and looks up at the archangel she's leaning on. It's not pack, but it's close. She... can't. She doesn't want to be alone.

"St. Raphael?" Brigid looks down at her hands. Her fingers pick at and smooth out the blanket nervously. Her hair tangles around her face, allowing her a modicum of privacy. "Would you mind staying? Just for tonight? Please?"

She almost chokes on the words, and swallows against a thick throat. She wouldn't ask. Normally. But tonight, Brigid feels raw and open and unprotected in a way that only having the pack around would help. Since they aren't here, she'll take what she's allowed.

[servingmichael]

"I don't mind." He smooths a hand over her hair, presence still but steady. "I won't leave until you're ready."

And he wouldn't, unless one of his brothers called, and that wasn't likely. Too many raw emotions with this dream business.

[bostonhowler]

Brigid lets out the breath she'd been holding. Sliding down in bed, she curls up next to him, her head on his leg. "Thank you, St. Raphael." Brigid whispers, closing her eyes and allowing sleep to take her again.