forever and never [reed]

Marisa narrowed her gaze at him. It felt like there was something he wasn't telling her and it was only because she knew him so well that she could see how he could twist information and draw conclusions as fast as she could blink with a finesse she knew she could never posses even if she practiced. It made him dangerous. Not to her, but to whoever had her brother. She wasn't sure what she would have done if he hadn't been there to help her, both in the attack and now afterwards.

Whatever gratitude she felt towards him was overshadowed by her regret over the fact that her brother was in this situation because of her gift-- really her curse. She bit her lip as she nodded at his confirmation. She didn't know the depth and details of everything Reed did in his job, and to some degree she wasn't sure that she wanted to know, but that also came with a certain degree of trust. He was much more knowledgeable in this area and his expertise was much appreciated. It still made her feel like she was drowning and couldn't swim in the sea of shit she had inadvertently swam into, but at least he was there to help.

"Right," Marisa agreed, needing to believe his words. "They need to keep him alive to get to me," she said with perfect calm that she didn't feel on the inside. It made perfect sense and she could hear her heart in her ears, a thick sense of fear clouding around her, but it wasn't like she was going to flee back to her apartment and hide -- even if that's precisely what she wanted to do.

As she sat in the stool he had vacated, Marisa watched him at the sink, studying the line of his shoulder to his arms as he told her the plan. She swallowed thickly and tried to return to that Auror mindset that she had all but forgotten. Fueled into action, armed with calmness and cleverness, awareness in every inch of her body. Merlin, she didn't know if she could do this, the doubting voice circling her mind as he spelled out the plan. Her eyes darted back to his face as he said 'they will try to take you'. "And what? I'll try to stun them before they do?" She needed details. She needed more time to prepare and practice and plan, but she knew this whole thing hinged on the attackers trying to get to her and that Marco might not have the time for that. With her arms still crossed over her stomach, her hands gripping just above her elbows, her fingertips ran over the backs of her arms where she thought she had felt blood there. Marco's blood.

Marisa wasn't sure what his intent was with his words, but all it did for her was make her more nervous. She physically had to stamp the fear down, her nails digging into the back of her arms to ground her. "What do I need to do to make sure this goes right?" she asked, trying to make her voice as steady as possible but emotion bled through at the very end as she thought again of Marco and what pain he must be in because of her.

"They need to keep him alive to get to me," Reed hadn't said that explicitly, but he also had no intention of lying to her when she said it so plainly, and instead, he nodded once. A quick, slight nod, indicating that she had reached the correct conclusion and that Reed had no plans to let her continue that line of thought. It'd be no good for either of them for Marisa to fall into a rabbit hole of what-ifs. She was still shaken up, and he didn't blame her, Reed felt agitated, and he'd only had to deal with his pain. He had no idea what it must have felt like to have to experience the phantom sensations of another person's pain. The wizard thought that she was still cogent after feeling her brother being tortured was a testament to her incredible strength.

Gears seemed to shift and click into place in Reed's mind as he spoke, and with every sentence, a little bit more of the plan fell into place. He didn't have it all figured out, but years of experience and a knack for strategy didn't hurt. Unlike some of his counterparts in the ministry, Reed wasn't the sort to go off half-cocked. And while they'd probably never be able to account for all of the variables, he assumed Marisa would appreciate a little attention to detail. Reed was adept at seeing the angles and preparing for the unknown. She took a seat on the stool, and he stared at her from a few feet away, his back toward the counter.

"You can stun them if you like," That was her right, and Reed wouldn't stop her from swinging back at her attackers if she wanted. If he was honest, the idea of Marisa fighting back was incredibly appealing. He'd never thought of her as weak before, and he didn't know, but Reed had always felt like she was holding back. As if she were hiding behind perfection and keeping her emotions locked away. Before tonight, he'd never seen her angry or sad; hell, he'd barely ever even heard her laugh. Reed's icy blue eyes slid down her face, reaching her lips as he thought he'd like to see her smile, but knew now wasn't the time for such things.

"How are you at cloaking spells?" With a decade of experience under his belt and plenty of mistakes to learn from, Reed had built up quite the playbook. And as he thought over their current situation, he couldn't help but draw parallels to an operation he'd been a part of in Jordan some years ago, and he realized he had just the right plan. "I imagine whatever enchantments they have on your shop aren't very intricate; if we could conceal ourselves and make the shop think no one has returned, we could buy some time."

Reed moved back toward the counter, standing beside her as he poured another glass. His nerves were plenty steady, and he held the alcohol out toward her with another nod. "In that time, I will set up hexes to stop too many of them from coming at us all at once. Some incapacitation charms, too. And then you can lift your concealment, and when they come for you, we will take them down." Reed poured one more glass for luck. Turning toward her, his hip against the island, he finished outlining the plan. As much as he didn't want to lie to her, Reed was careful to select his final words. "And then we will make a new trade." He said and held his glass to hers as if they were celebrating a job well done, and as he knocked his drink back, Reed knew the real work had only just begun.

His nod confirmed her thoughts. They would at least keep them alive until.. Until what? She gave herself up, traded her gift for Marco's safe return. Merlin, she didn't think that's what Reed would allow to happen, but she knew the smarter thing was to prepare for all outcomes. If only she could tell her heart to stop hammering in that way that made every nerve jangle.

You can stun them if you like. The way he said it made it seem like he was going to take another course of action and she scrutinized his face to sort out if she was just jumping to conclusions or if the tone she had picked up was based in reality. Not that it would matter much, if she couldn't even muster up a few good stunning spells. Marisa worried her lip as she glanced down at her wand, the spell and its incantation and wand movement flowing back to her in uneven jolts. She was out of practice at dueling for attack situations an she knew it. She sat up a little straighter in the chair as she renewed her resolve. It was for Marco, she would figure it out.

She drew her gaze up from the wand that she gripped in her lap and raised a single brow at his question. Cloaking spells? "Decent," she tried to say modestly. "I have a line of cloaks with.. well, cloaking spells on them," she added as she thought over his plan. It wouldn't be too different to do the spell on both of them and hold it as he set up the hexes. She was glad when he moved closer, bringing the whiskey with him, pouring her more. She reached out for the glass, hoping he wouldn't notice how her hands shook. She wasn't ready and his 'when they come for you' really didn't inspire any confidence or strength, but she was going to do it anyway. And she was painfully aware of how idiotic that made her, but she knew her reason. Having Reed at the helm of this plan was perhaps the only reason she was going through with this at all.

Her eyes tightened at his conclusion. A new trade? Her for Marco? She wouldn't refuse, but she was surprised by it. It didn't matter though. She clinked her glass against his harder than she meant to, knocked back the glass, drinking it in one go, inviting and relishing the burn of it down her throat before she slid off the chair and gripped her wand. "Let's go then."

"Great," Reed commented when Marisa replied to his question about cloaking, and he continued with the plan. Reed moved toward her, pouring drinks for them one after another as they continued the conversation, and by the time he'd held his glass to toast, he felt confident in the plan. If she could manage that part, it would give him ample time to place the spells they'd need. And with a bit of luck and a lot more preparation, he felt like the odds were in their favor. If they had more time, maybe he could have finessed it more, but balancing diligence and action was delicate.

And no matter how prepared they were, things always went wrong. Improvisation was a good part of Reed's job. The other part was waiting. As much as his job might have seemed exciting and adventurous from the outside, the majority of Reed's days were spent sitting around. And when Marisa downed her drink in one gulp, Reed felt a surge of adrenaline hit him. Her impatience to get going was infecting him, and he followed her action. "Just a minute," he said, finishing his glass and set it back on the countertop with a soft clink. Reed produced his wand and summoned a button-up shirt and suit jacket from the bedroom.

The expensive suit, hand-tailored by the witch standing across from him, floated silently across the room, and Reed caught the hanger as it reached him. Whether he was going to collect groceries, made an international trade deal, or kidnap a kidnapper, Reed always dressed well. Reed kept his eyes on Marisa and spoke as he began to tuck his undershirt into his pants. "Do you think you can perform the cloaking spell while we are apparating?" Magic was unwieldy sometimes, but he had no doubt she was powerful enough to manage it. He moved on to the silky charcoal shirt, sliding it over his shoulders, and then finally the jacket, but Reed disregarded the tie that was expertly matched. There was no use for ties where they were going.

"You do the concealment, and I will do the rest. When they come for you, don't stun me by mistake." When he'd finished dressing, Reed held his arm — not hand — out for her to hold on to while they apparated.

Marisa was already half way to the door when he told her to wait a minute. Her brows rose in silent question, but she heard the familiar whisper of summoned clothing and she almost smiled. No matter how much of her world seemed upside down at the moment, Reed at the very least hadn't changed in that way. She glanced down the hallway that must lead to his bedroom, her hand raising at her side to feel the brush of the suit jacket against her fingers before it reached him.

Ah, the Wallford suit. She had specifically charmed this one with an array of defensive spells and charms. It was like a suit of armor and she had always wondered what sort of situations he got himself into that he would need such protection. For most of her clients, her spellwork on top of the tailoring was insurance for a rainy day that never came, but with Reed, it had always seemed different. Her eyes were on the suit, on him as he finished getting dressed, watching as he tucked his shirt into his pants, covering up more of the tattoos that she had seen up close tonight. She only realized belatedly that he had asked her a question when there was a pause between them and her eyes swung up to his gaze as she replayed the question in her mind.

"Oh, yes, sure, yes I think so," she stammered through before she made herself look away, straightening her dress, running her fingertips along her wand as she focused her thoughts only on the cloaking spell that she would have to do soon. There was no room for error here and the pressure of the whole thing was making her anxious.

She gave him another nod, his instructions clear and concise and she liked that even as she forced herself to breath in a normal rhythm, counting the breaths in her head. His shoes made clipped sounds against the hardwood floors as he came closer and her eyes widened slightly in surprise as he offered her his arm. He caught on quick and she had no words to tell him how much she appreciated that.

Marisa touched his arm lightly, feeling the solid muscle and warmth even through his jacket, and then repositioned her hand so grip him a little tighter as she started to weave the cloaking spell around them. She didn't want to get disconnected in the midst of apparating and ruin his well-thought out plan. "Ready," she whispered, hoping he would ignore the tremor in her voice as she focused herself and her mind entirely on the cloaking spell. She could do one thing at a time, solve one problem at a time, she told herself like a mantra. Otherwise, she might've crumbled under the weight of the situation.

The corners of Reed’s mouth turned up wryly as he noticed her stare; it would be a lie to say he hated the attention. Wizards didn’t look like Reed because they wanted to be ignored, and her stammering words stoked his ego further. It was good; he thought because the confidence made him stronger. Moving toward her at the door, Reed did one last mental check before they began to apparate away. They had healed their wounds, they had their wands and their wits, and as he peered over at the determined witch next to him, Reed knew they each had something worth fighting for.

As the world folded up and swallowed them whole, Reed focused on the feeling of Marisa’s hand gripping his forearm. Purposefully paying close attention to it, just in case it should slip away. Reed could see the magic barrier she was casting as it rippled with pearlescence around them. Like silky material draped over something rough, like Marisa’s skilled hand pressed against his muscled arm. The apparition took only moments, but when adrenaline returned to his veins and his heartbeat thumping in his ears, Reed felt like it was much longer. He imagined the sorts of scenarios they might drop into at her shop, but when his boots were planted on solid ground, Reed couldn’t fight the dread that he might have missed something.

The shop was a wreck of smashed windows and overturned furniture. The wizard saw their fragmented reflections in the shattered mirror and the shards scattered across the fine carpet. The air was heavy with the scent of blood and magic, and a cigar was left burning in the tray. Reed quickly produced his concealment charm as he moved away from Marisa, giving her a nod to remind her of the plan. Moving across the store silently, Reed placed the charms he’d mentioned over the rooms. Curses on the doors and broken windows, the sort that would stop them from coming in too fast and keep Marisa from being harmed.

When he’d finished, Reed turned back to Marisa with a solemn look on his angled features. “Are you sure you are ready for this?” He asked, his voice gruff from equal parts adrenaline and whiskey. To lure the men back, Marisa had to play the part of bait, which meant she’d have to lower her concealment charm. If the Wizards were clever, their magic would alert them the second her magic was down, and Reed expected they would come for her quickly. Perhaps there was something more interesting about Marco than Reed knew, but he doubted it. And the Stricklander would be willing to bet it was Marisa they were after. She was more powerful than even Reed had known and a hell of a lot more interesting.

This was mental. Absolutely, incredibly mental, the tailoress couldn't help but think over and over. The thought circling round her mind as she tried to focus instead on her cloaking spell. The shimmer of the spell rippled in front of her, growing dim before she renewed her effort. Her doubt and uncertainty couldn't be her undoing. There was too much at stake.

But when their feet touched down in her shop, it was more of a shock that she had anticipated. Her beautifully-kept, exquisite shop was in shambles and the memories of what happened not too long ago stung at her in ways she was surprised by. A shiver coursed through her. Marisa gripped her wand tighter, and there was only a momentary wave of panic when Reed started moving away before she caught herself and summoned the steeliness that she needed to get this done. A vision of Marco hurt and in pain swam through her mind. She had purpose.

Even if she did feel the need vomit all over her nicely stained wood floors at the smell of the blood.

There were no bodies though so whoever Reed had taken on in that flurry of a fight had managed to pull themselves together and get out. Marisa knew they were waiting on their return, hoping for it in fact, but it didn't put her at ease. She looked around the rest of the shop, her brows flickering as she noticed her golden bracelets sitting untouched among the melee on the glass table. She knew it was a weakness to need something of comfort in a moment when she should have been vigilant, but her bracelets always made her feel more secure. They hadn't always worked to fend off her visions, but after having a bad episode tonight, she didn't want to take another chance. The metal felt cold against her skin, but it was welcomed.

Her eyes were still dark, her chest tight when she heard his question for her, his voice rough and deeper somehow. She slid her gaze back to him. No. "Yes," she gave him instead, a clear lie, but she didn't think honesty had any room here. Not when she had walked into a trap, on purpose. Merlin, she was mental.

Marisa could feel her heart beating in her ears, licked her lips nervously as she kept her eyes on him. Slowly, she lowered her wand and gave up on the concealment charm she had been holding. Every fiber of her being fought with her about giving up the one thing that was keeping her safe, but she kept her gaze on Reed as if he were the single force that was keeping her from falling apart right now.

There was a moment of blissful, bloated silence, hanging in the air before they came.

And in greater numbers than she expected. She wasn't sure where to look first as they came apparating in, one after another. One tall and thin wizard was caught up in a trap Reed set, another witch with a shocking flair of silver hair was waylaid by a stunning spell Marisa fired, but she was quickly overwhelmed.

Apparition magic crackled in the air like lightning in a late summer storm, and Reed could feel it, thick and heavy on his skin in the seconds before boots hit the ground. They crowded the room, surging in from every side, and Reed's spells caught a few of them. Traping them in invisible snares or shooting them out of already broken windows, but the wizard knew it wasn't going to be enough. The sinking feeling that they were underprepared hit him will full force, but Reed pushed it back. There was no more time for planning, only reacting. Swear words and hexes bubbled from the back of his throat as he began casting more spells.

Reed had always prided himself on being the most intelligent person in a room. If he couldn't outwit someone, he made damn sure to be stronger or better equipped, and he rarely underestimated an opponent. The wizard worked hard, day-in and day-out, to make sure he'd never be underprepared, but no amount of preparation could have helped them now. Regardless of his training and Marisa's one in a thousand abilities, they were outnumbered and outmatched. It didn't matter that he knew how to incapacitate a man seven different ways without unbuttoning his suit; there were just too many of them.

His shadow concealment lasted as long as it took to down two wizards, but then a third noticed him. Backed into his corner, Reed did something he'd always been a little too good at and came out swinging. His fists pressed hard into bodies of men coming toward him, but it was increasingly difficult to attack while also trying to keep an eye on Marisa. She was the prize, the real target, and it wouldn't matter how many wizards he took down if he lost her.

Flashes of magic streaked across the dimly lit shop, splitting and wrenching through the air like poison vines. Two more witches came toward him, their gnarled wands twisting with spells he'd never even heard of, and he saw a man approaching Marisa behind them.

Her Auror training had seemed like another lifetime ago, but she tried to maintain a calm mindset even as panic crept in at the edges. She knew keeping it together would help them get through this and hopefully then get information on where Marco was being held from one of these thugs or perhaps even follow their apparation trail back, but it was a hard thing to do when her already frayed nerves were announcing quite clearly that they had had enough.

Marisa's spells started to weaken and she could tell that the traps and curses Reed had set up were no match for the number of wizards that had come to call on them. She couldn't even wonder at the why of there being so many, even as Reed took out one after another across the room. All she could do was think of the fight - and well, how badly she was doing at it. Her stunning charms hit mirrors instead of the wizards themselves and she saw the red flash of a stunning spell before she narrowly dodged it. Why, why, why had she thought she could handle this? She was not Reed, she was not a battle witch, she was not even a hint of the Auror-in-training she had once been. 

By luck or sheer determination, she was able to manage a blasting curse that hit one witch on the shoulder and sent her careening into another. Marisa was even surprised it had worked herself, her hands shaking, her mind crowded with stinging judgements of what her Auror skills had dwindled to. Apparently, it had surprised their attackers too, perhaps they hadn't expected a fight back and perhaps it would have been an easy infiltration if not for Reed, his plan, and his power but she heard a note of frustration in one of the attacker's voices as he called out. "Use it! Use the diviner!"

She could feel what energy she had felt dwindling quickly, exhausted after the first assault and episode of visions, but Reed was still fighting. She could see flashes of silver and red from where he fought and she desperately thought of her brother in pain, bleeding, somewhere.. because of her?

So she steeled herself for the next to approach, but the man didn't wield a wand. Arms outstretched towards her, he was holding a golden relic shaped like a pyramid, glinting in the dim light, in his hands and when she looked at it she felt strange, her bracelets warming on her wrists. She felt.. no, it couldn't be. It felt like the second just after someone touched her, the hang in the air just before one falls, the pause just before she was sucked into a vision. To her complete surprise, she felt reality slip away into another vision, but this was on a completely different level to anything she had experienced before with her Sight - stronger, fiercer, faster, a force she couldn't fight. Her body crumpled to the ground as her visions clamped onto her mind and yanked it away from the present and into the past.

Reed heard the attackers shouting at one another, but he didn't understand what they meant. Use the diviner!, one had yelled, and Reed pushed a witch as hard as he could to get a look past her. To see what the man in the middle of the room held in his hands. And realizing he had no idea what the object was -- or what it was capable of -- felt like a punch in the gut. He saw the glow, and heard the hum of magic, and became a whir of adrenaline and violence.

As his fist collided with a man's face, Reed felt nothing. Not the hot sting of bone-cracking on bone, of split skin or blood rushing down his forearms. He saw nothing but Marisa in the middle of the room, stricken with panic and pale white. And his blood ran cold as he saw her crash to the floor. "Marisa!" He shouted and felt the anger rising to the surface, boiling over until the calm and collected Reed disappeared entirely. He cut through the crowd as a new sort of adrenaline surged inside of him. He had one job tonight, and he'd failed. He'd put her right back here in harm's way, and Marisa had been hurt, and Reed felt himself slipping to a dark place. A place where he could outrun his failure and take the blame out on whoever was in his path.

 Cold and venomous, the chaos he buried for so long crackled to the surface. Reed's hand twisted as darker, more fearful curses shot from his wand. The sorts of spells meant to maim and hurt and not at all sanctioned by the Ministry. He crashed through the men and toward Marisa, an unstoppable force meeting a wall of immovable objects. Reed didn't stop until he'd carved a path straight to her, and without missing a beat, he gripped her arm roughly and apparated them out of the shop.

The silver hair witched latched onto them as Reed tried to magic them away, and Reed nearly lost hold of Marisa as he pried them free. Before they reached the apartment, Reed felt the witch peel off of them and take a bit of his skin with her in the process. The cacophony of Reed's near failed apparition shattered the quiet in his apartment. A lamp knocked over as they crash-landed, and it broke into pieces. Reed's knees hit the ground not far from it, and Marisa was next to him. He barely took a breath as he turned, checking for a pulse before gripping her shoulders, shaking her forcefully, willing her to open her eyes and wake up.

Terrible thoughts ripped at the edges of his mind and consumed him with the fear that he'd gotten one of the few people he liked in this world killed. "Wake the fuck up!" He cursed at her, anger and fear mixing into a ball of something unrecognizable as he reached for his wand.

She was lost, trapped in her own mind as flickers of the past swam up and seized her, locking her in. Marisa was all feeling, all sight, no consciousness. Her bracelets were hot at her wrists, that golden pyramid of a relic beaming at her with its golden haze. She was both in the vision and the vision itself. It felt both like she was watching for the first time, new as the flashes forced through her mind, but also felt like it was familiar as it she had lived it herself.

The most uneasy part of it all was that it felt like it was more than one person's past. Her visions had always been singular, focused on one lived experience, one person's thoughts and memories, but now she was in the grip of a mash of the past slapped together and shoved down her throat. She had always felt at odds with her vision, the experience felt like she was being shoved into someone else's skin, but now? It was like she was shattering, each tiny part of her seeing something different at the same time. If she hadn't already collapsed, she might have fainted all over again.

Reed yanked at her, apparating her away from the attack, and ending with an ungraceful landing back in his apartment and yet Marisa hadn't felt any of it. Her face was pale, her skin clammy except where her skin was red hot and stinging under her bracelets as the visions held her in their grasp.

Gleaming chandaliers over a wide auditorium, resin on the air. A man magically chained to a chair. Ladies laughing as they sat with jewels around their necks. Blood dripping from fingertips. A stringed instrument resonating in the darkness. The rip of skin as deep cuts are sliced methodically through muscle and sinew. The vision continued despite the shouting she heard in the distance, the word intelligble. Her mind fractured again, but the Marisa-part was able to regain a little footing. And she wanted out. She pushed toward that voice, familiar in its timbre.

She came to with a gasp, dragging air into her lungs as if it were her first breath in eons. Even the rhythm of breathing felt rusty, foreign, yet desperately needed. Her eyes tracked above her as her mind pulled away from the past and tried to orient itself in the present. Where am I? Nothing looked familiar and panic lit up within her. She started to fight against the hands on her, pushing them away, scratching, clawing like a wild animal, anything to get away from whoever had taken her to whatever place this was, she didn't want to---

Her name on his tongue made something click and she stilled. Reed. Something that felt like relief flooded through her, sweeping away the fight in her. She looked up at him, both fear and a question in her eyes, as she looked at the wand he held pointed at her. Then she remembered.

"Where's Marco?" she tried to ask but her voice was nonexistent. She swallowed once, twice and tried to push herself up to sitting but her hands slipped against his slick floors and she had neither the energy nor the reflexes to catch herself before her elbows hit the floor hard. "Where is he? Is he ok?"

Moments like this were proof that Reed had two things right all along: 1. Always have a plan. 2. Don't get attached. They'd gone off half-cocked with only part of a plan, and he should have known better. Reed was the sort of wizard who hunted for details and made decisions based on intricate calculations. Understanding Marisa's distress with her brother taken (possibly worse) had done a number on his typically excellent judgment. Instead of waiting, as they should have, Reed had done his part pushing for an immediate plan. And though it should have led them to Marco and the men at fault in one fell swoop, it failed spectacularly. Instead, Marisa was knocked out, and Marco was who knew where.

Things were not looking good.

Reaching for his wand, a spell to bring Marisa out of it on the tip of his tongue, when she sucked in a harsh breath, and he let go of one he'd been holding. "Fuck," he exhaled relief on his tone, despite the question she had asked. Reed was relieved to see her eyes were open. "We failed," he told Marisa honestly, sitting back from where he had been looming over her. It was a foolish plan, and things had gotten out of hand quickly, and Reed blamed himself, not her. And even though he hated to be wrong about anything, Reed was mature enough to take responsibility.

"There were more than I expected, and they came at you with…." Reed racked his brain, trying to understand whatever the man had been holding. "Some gold artifact." He didn't know what the item did yet, but he knew it had to be magical (and powerful) to elicit such a response from Marisa. The wizard might not have known what the magical object was, but he was damn sure going to find out. "When I saw you go down, I had to get you out of there." In truth, Reed didn't care about Marco. He only cared about him because of what it meant to Marisa. He knew better than to explain it that way, though. "How do you feel?"

Failed?

It was a word she thought she'd never hear Reed say and so it took her a moment to wrap her mind around what he exactly meant by it. It was hard because there was this pounding headache right at the front of her forehead, the worst she's ever had after a vision, accompanied by this overwhelming emptiness, a weary sort of feeling like everything she was had been scooped out of her piece by piece and replaced with something foreign. Something that was distinctly not hers. She didn't feel like herself within her own body and there was a low level of panic surrounding every move as she tried to understand what he was telling her.

A gold artifact? What? She frowned at him, her memories all jumped. The latest vision had knocked her out and that terrified her more than anything else. Was she losing her mind like her mother? Was it finally happening? No, shit, wait. She had to focus. She pushed his hands away as she sat up, every inch of her hurting, but she had the strength to frown at him. "What do you mean you had to get me out of there? Where the fuck is Marco? Don't you remember that's why we did this whole thing in the first place?" her voice was getting louder and she knew she was spiraling but she couldn't stop it. Shit, she really was losing it. She was either about to rage or cry and either way she was going to break herself into a million little splinters with the emotion that was cutting through her.

Except with Reed sitting there, asking her how she felt, she picked rage. "You promised me we would find him, Reed," she threw at him, her words like poison dripping out of her. "You promised!" Marisa said again, this time pushing at his chest, anger and worry and disappointment fueling her out of her usual self-contained state. Then she stood, stumbling, her legs feeling like jello after her latest vision and she had to get away from him. She started toward the kitchen, she didn't even want to look at him, but then remembered the runespoor and veered away down the hallway. Bathroom, where the hell was the-- She pushed open the door and shut it behind her with a hard clap before she leaned her back against it and looked around the pristine room.

Marisa was still and in the wake of all that anger that she had built up, she realized all that had happened tonight and everything that was still yet to be done. She clapped a hand over her mouth as a sob came out, squeezing her eyes shut and praying for quiet as she slid down the door until she was on the floor, her legs too tired to hold herself up anymore.

Marisa lying unconscious on the floor of his apartment was a harsh reminder that Reed had disregarded his rules. Work alone, don't get attached, and always prepare. When she woke up, the guilt and disappointment Reed felt didn't begin to recede; it multiplied. He sat back on his haunches and watched as the realizations washed over Marisa like a tidal wave. Part of him wanted to stop her, to make her listen, but Reed merely waited. Even as she began to slam fists against his chest, he was patient. He understood.

She stood up, and Reed wished she wouldn't have, but he followed her to his feet. She appeared as weak as he felt, but he didn't mention it. He just watched. Watched, and waited, and let her stalk off down the hallway of his flat.

Reed was quiet because he knew the truth. They hadn't failed, he had failed her.

As he heard the latch on the bathroom door slide and lock, Reed didn't follow her down the narrow corridor. He sighed, running his hands over his face and through his now disheveled hair. The longer parts on the top were curled from sweat and adrenaline, and he brushed them from his face and backward. Reed should have known better than to bring her with him. And as he moved away from the room, she'd barricaded herself inside; he cursed under his breath. The wizard was good at his job because he could disconnect without being an absolute animal. He could work passionately without making it personal. And he should have gone alone.

He'd put her in danger, and when it came down to it, Reed was forced into a decision when he should have been able to navigate the situation better. Marisa was a liability, and it was as if he'd tied his wand behind his back by bringing her. He wasn't able to complete the mission, wasn't able to save her brother, and now he'd lost whatever faith she had in him. But he wasn't going to wallow in failure; Reed was undeterred.

Slamming his fist against the island counter, he felt the spark of pain vibrate up his tired muscles and took a sharp breath. He was going to fix this. The three-headed snake slithered around in its cage, agitated alongside its owner, as Reed got to work laying out a new plan.