Room 320, Saturday Morning

[bitchy_smurf]

Illyria was not, per se, sleeping in, since she hadn't bothered going to sleep after last night's radio fiasco. She had instead spent the dark hours of the morning slicing at imaginary opponents in the preserve with her newly-returned sword, before she had to once again stow it in the weapons locker.

Now, after returning to an empty room, she was staring at Sam Winchester's empty bed and... not sulking. At all. The phrase you were looking for was meditation.

Until the banging on the door began.

[For the OMGWTF you're not breakfast, are you. Sam and Peter's boomshakalaka elsewhere modded with permission.]

Comments

[bitchy_smurf]

Too late for that said the same voice that had spoken aloud, and Illyria shut her eyes. BE SILENT. BE GONE.

Why can't I stay? was all that echoed in reply.

"I am not a vampire," she said, aloud and in her own words. "Nor am I your mother; I merely look like her." When she opened her eyes again, Illyria stood up, and put out her hand. "Come with me."

[not4eating.livejournal.com]

Mitch wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, which only smeared his glasses more. "No! M' not s'posed to go with strangers." Even if his watch said she wasn't. He must have broke it when he fell.

[bitchy_smurf]

"You're in my room now, on my bed. If I planned to harm you, I could have done it a thousand times over by now."

Again with the Earth logic. Also, note the part where she didn't claim not to have hurt his mother. "You've traveled here from a divergent timestream. If events proceed as I've been told such things do, you'll be returned to your parents within several days. Until then, I'll take you to someone who can properly monitor your well-being."

Hand: still out.

[not4eating.livejournal.com]

"DAYS?" Mitch scrambled off the bed and put one hand on his hip, the other still clutching Feigenbaum to him. "I want Mom NOW!"

Look, he was smart, okay, and kind of mature for his age, which happened when your parents had more degrees than anybody had a right to and books at hand that could, with a whispered request, explain harmonic convergences and demonic possession in language any three year old could understand, but he was still three.

"Now, now, now!" Which, coincidentally, was when the actual bawling started. The loud, hicuppy sobbing sort.

[bitchy_smurf]

"Then come with me!"

Yes, that was kind of unfair, since she wasn't taking him to Fred, couldn't take him to Fred even if she wished to, but child. Wailing. In her room. And smacking her shins with a stuffed rabbit now. While something made disgusting sounds of grief at lost futures and the cruelty of the universe from the back of her skull, and enough.

She bent down and scooped the boy up, throwing him over her shoulder. She gripped the back of his trousers as he kicked and hit at her, and made her way out the door, "Let me gooooo! Mom! Mom!" ringing in her ears.