A Little Broken [Three Trinities Haven Church]

[Sasha]

It all ended so abruptly. The power was gone, his head bruised. His dick still hanging out. Oriena's fingers grabbed his chin and she chided him. Though he wasn't sure exactly what he had done. The alcove was freezing and the fires were gone. But he felt the pull of it, he wanted it all. Wanted all of it. Burn himself up? That's what she said.

Her pants were ruined. Sasha felt bad even as he straightened himself and his clothing. His head still hurt. "How do you know so much?" It wasn't a question he expected an answer too. Oriena was not known for conversation. She wasn't know for being friendly in any sense of the word. And he'd already given her a favor and she lost it to the slush. It was probably long gone and he'd have to fork it out.

Sasha reached across and caressed the space at the base of her jaw where his fingers had gripped her. There were no marks but he remembered the feel of her flesh between them. There was dried blood across Oriena's face from the bloodied nose. His eyes wandered across her but his fingers he'd returned to his own space. He wasn't a fool and the emotions were high, her hand was still precariously close to his throat. "You should get some help with whatever is filling your head. It isn't this..." Sasha pulled the now jagged shard from his pocket and gripped it tight but offered it as explanation for what he meant... the power that flowed through them. "It won't happen to me?"

Sasha's voice was quiet. Not broken or ashamed or even how he'd come to the first. It was different. He felt different. Stronger, braver... but there was still insecurity in the way he leaned against the wall unmoving. It was different but still not more than the shadow he'd ever been.

[Oriena]

He didn't retaliate. Clearly he must just think she’d shoved him off because she was a bitch. Ori didn't care, and she didn’t explain herself further. Why the hell he accepted that kind of treatment from a stranger spoke volumes, and even as she watched it was like the rolling fog of a retreat. Whatever her searching look over him told her never translated into her expression – there was just the fact she bothered.

The touch at her neck sent a small shiver into her, not desire this time, but something. Sasha was soft spoken, unassuming in a way Ori would normally overlook except that she also found him unpredictable. It wasn’t the kind that kept her on her toes, or wound her tighter, or incited her. It was more that he just quietly acted in ways she didn’t fully anticipate. For now it held her attention without provoking her.

She let go.

“No,” she said. There was scorn in her tone, like he’d asked something stupid. But it had no real bite.

Ori leaned back against the wall, hands braced on her thighs. Her head was swimming a little, which might have just been the things she’d taken tonight. She glanced at the trinket in Sasha’s hand but wasn’t much interested in whatever crutch he used to explain his power before now. He looked like he thought she was going to wrestle it from him by how tightly he gripped it. With power like she’d seen he had, he’d probably been guarding that silly piece of rock with his life. No wonder the Atharim were hot on his trail.

As for help. Well, no shit. Ori knew full well she could ask Nox and he’d fall over himself in an attempt to do what he could, but she never had. Wouldn’t. “I could show you exactly what’s in my head if you want, but you wouldn’t like it.” Her glance was sly then, more than sinister, but her smirk ended in sharp laughter. She didn’t want to talk about it, and he looked like he might be trying to melt into the wall to escape her notice.

She slid the rest of the way down, intending to wait it out until her head cleared. She half closed her eyes. The winter chill bit. Her forearms rested on her knees, and her exposed skin burned. It wasn’t like she was powerless to help herself, it was just that the freezing pain was a little like holding her hand over that flame. A distraction. “If you’re shitting a brick about it all, Sash, ask at Kallisti for Nox.” She’d been there once after all, and it wasn’t the first time she’d taken pity on the lost, and especially the dangerous lost. The whole club was a beacon for it, even more so now Nox was its shepherd. Though it wasn’t entirely in charity she directed him, it was to let him off the hook if he was too afraid to simply run from her. He wasn’t under any obligation to stay. She didn’t expect him to.

[Sasha]

The way she said she could show him had Sasha shaking his head almost violently. He didn't want that. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know. Not if it made her bleed like that. Fuck no!

She slide down the wall and Sasha was concerned. Whatever confidence he'd had had fled with the power and the cold now permeating his body. "I can get you some warmer clothes, dry clothes. No one will notice if I take some extra. I haven't..." He hadn't partaken of the gifts of others in a while. No one would say anything and she was squatting here in her panties and the leather top. It was kinda pulling at desires she had awakened but it was cold and Sasha was once again shivering.

She mentioned a name. One he knew or at least heard of he'd never met the man. His name was spoken in hushed whispers by most but there was always one vocal voice who spoke out against him. She was tiny in size but voracious in her dislike of the man. Yet the tiny girl next to her adored him. It was so confusing to Sasha. But Oriena trusted him, he could tell by the way she said his name and offered the advice. But she could send him in to danger too. He didn't ask questions about the man. He could ask Zeke. Zeke was more inclined to talk to him and not bite his head off.

[Oriena]

The soft ghost of his voice finally irritated. She didn't care what Sasha did, and he was so hesitant about it he didn’t even finish his fucking sentences – like he was caught between waiting for her approval and the fear of her fatal bite. Oriena gave him the excuse to leave and he should have taken it. Because hanging around her was permission of its own, and she wouldn't keep her claws sheathed.

Fury roused in a torrent, burying the vulnerable exhaustion. Her eyes flashed open, dark with venom. Sex made no connection, she never let it; that wasn’t a mistake she’d ever repeat, with anyone. And she certainly wasn’t his to be concerned about because of one hard and very short fuck against a wall.

Her heart was racing in a way she didn’t think was normal, but she stuck a fist on the ground and pushed herself back up to standing.

“You can get out of my way. I can take what I need. And I owe Ezekiel a hello for the fucking storm.”

She meant to stalk dangerously close, knowing he was afraid of her – intending to cement it, or maybe just send him running back into the shadows for good. But her legs buckled barely two steps from the alcove. Her knees hit the snow and gravel, the jarring impact of her hands following a moment later. The freezing rain pelted her red-raw back with shock. Her arms quivered as the pressure built and she fought it, until they too failed to hold her up.

Suddenly she knew what was happening. In the undercity she’d seen the ijiraq first, a faint smudge of light to begin with, until it pulled on the darkness to give itself form. It had forced its way in, igniting her with visions that remained only in her knowledge of the power the ijiraq coveted. Afterwards she’d woken in darkness, fuck only knew how much later, the connection between them a furious and violent thing. A permanent fusion.

She’d never seen the fucking thing leave.

The vessel is breaking
It fights us
It fights itself

The buzz of its hive voice in her head trembled her with pain, stronger than usual. Between the drugs, alcohol and her own spite she’d grown adept at drowning it out. This time, it stole the consciousness right out of her.

[Sasha]

She got angry. He'd said the wrong thing. He shrank back into the wall but he couldn't go any further. She stormed off and then stumbled and then fell. Sasha rushed to her, felt for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief, she was a live.

Her breath was shallow and no matter how hard he shook she she didn't wake up. Shouting for help was unlikely to bring anyone. Maybe Zeke would know what to do. But...

Sasha picked her up. It was difficult but he managed to get her in his arms. She wasn't so heavy but he wasn't very strong. He breathed hard as he moved up the steps into the church. He stumbled and nearly fell. He almost knocked her head into a pew. By the time Sasha reached the altar upon which Zeke sat. "I don't know what happened. I... I'm sorry."

[Ezekiel]

Zeke lounged as he often did in the evenings, surrounded by a gathering of whichever faithful most sought his attention. Stories, laughter, alcohol and drugs flowed free – the latter for those who partook at least, and Zeke was never pushy, just magnanimous in his attentions. Though he was as insouciant as a lazy predator, he was never unaware of the nuances within his realm. The chuckle started low as he watched Sasha’s stumbling lurch into the church with the dead weight in his arms, but he paid it no real mind until his dealer almost tumbled the woman right onto the floor in front of him.

When the rain first began to pelt, most of those who’d been loitering on the grounds quickly sought shelter inside. But these two were both soaked to the skin. How very… interesting.

And Oriena was half naked.

His eyes ran hungrily over the scars up her leg and hip, injuries he’d seen before, but it reminded him of how deliciously in pain she had been while Ilya directed his girls to heal her. It was where their special relationship had begun, and her addiction had first dug in its claws.

“I’m reminded of those memes you see – the family who rescues the cute little stray kitten from the wilderness… only to discover several months later it’s a fucking mountain lion.” He laughed again, brushing a hand over his mouth. Amusement shone bright in his eyes. “Sasha, what did you do to her?” By the sly glint in his eye he meant her state of undress and not her state of unconsciousness. The latter Zeke simply presumed was owing to Oriena’s nasty habit of mixing up cocktails she really shouldn’t risk. Her spiral had been quite the beautiful thing to behold.

He popped to his feet, wondering how badly Sasha’s arms must be burning, and why he didn’t just drop her. Zeke’s fingers walked up the cold skin of Oriena’s thigh. “I’d suggest you put it back where you found it,” he whispered. “Before it wakes up.” He grinned, mirth lazy and unruffled by the drama. But he was looking at Sasha anew.

[Sasha]

There was a moment of horror that Zeke thought he'd done any of this to Oriena. He hadn't sliced her clothes, and he certainly didn't do this to her. "I didn't do this." he said. Didn't say what this was.

And Zeke's advice wasn't helpful. "She's in trouble. I can't do that. She mentioned Nox at Kallisti. Can he help?" He had no idea who this Nox was. Or even how he could get her to him or the other way around. He couldn't carry here anymore. He was losing his grip. Sasha knelt down and set her down before he dropped her. "I don't ask for much. I'll do anything if you help me help her." He probably would regret this but it was the least he could do for her assistance in his connection to the shard.

[Ezekiel]

He'd been attempting to get beneath Sasha’s skin, hoping to see a little bite in the reaction, but Sasha just seemed distressed. Zeke’s roaming fingers hooked as far as Oriena’s underwear and gave it a ping before he grinned and removed his hand. Given the object of Sasha’s concern he was admittedly amused with the whole scenario, though he was far more interested in the volcano of power he'd felt on the grounds outside than whatever compelled Sasha to play the hero.

Zeke’s head tilted in consideration as he watched his dealer sink awkwardly to his knees to set Oriena down – though it wasn’t like she’d even notice a few more bruises. He wasn't thinking about whether to give his help though – that was more or less a given – but of his suspicions concerning what Sasha had just proven himself to be. The menacing weight of that power had felt astronomical. Enough to flatten the church and everyone in it in a tantrum.

He squatted down beside them, arms loose on his thighs. “You could just leave her here. You brought her in from the, ah… inclement weather after all. It's as good a place as any other to sleep whatever it is off.” He watched Sasha’s expression, chin resting in his palm and a teasing smile behind the cup of his fingers, curious as to how much Sasha appeared to feel he owed. Oriena was a customer, and presumably Sasha had come across her a time or two before, but she hardly endeared herself to those she met. If it was a matter of conscience then Sasha had done enough. The church had blankets, dry clothes, and it was warm.

“No more than you or I, I expect.” He shrugged about whether Nox could help. It seemed to Zeke it was unlikely, but if Oriena had mentioned him then that at least cemented his conclusion about Sasha's gift. And unless he got Sick that was far more power than Zeke was keen to engage with himself. Sasha was his man, but Nox would be the better teacher for such an asset. Especially if Sasha proved... difficult to manage. The startling power he'd felt had raged long after the storm upended over the church.

One thing at a time though.

“You never ask anything, Sasha,” he said eventually, with an amused grin. But not unkind. Sasha was never much fun to play with like that, and he had always been loyal.

“Almaz healed those,” he said, indicating the scars he’d trailed before. “I have an understanding with Helena, and she’s far better at it than Illya and his girls ever were. I could call in a favour. If you think she really needs it.” He reached to boop her nose, and chuckled. ”She brings all this shit on herself. And she won’t thank you for any of this, you know.”

[Sasha]

Zeke wasn't wrong. He could leave her here. He had brought her in. Saved her from certain death in the cold and rain. It was too inclimint. Here she would be warm. Zeke didn't seem to think she needed or deserved more help than offered. And owing a favor might prove to be costly. Sasha looked from the weather back to Oriena laying on the ground half naked. "I don't know. I know she doesn't want help. She had a nosebleed." He wasn't talking to explain, just trying to unmuddle that which was in his head.

How much did he owe her? She wouldn't be happy he'd helped her. Saved her or even thought it might be saving her. He shook his head. "Clothes and blankets." he looked down bowed his head in thanks. "Though to offer the favor is appreciated. I still owe you to keep her safe and warm." She wasn't worth oweing a favor he might not like returning. Sasha didn't have many lines but there were a few and his paranoia ran strong, Zeke had never betrayed him but there was always a first time for everything.

"I'll move her to a different place. You know this Nox?" He asked curiously. "Oriena said he could help me understand...I..." He didn't trust people but he didn't finish the sentence.

[Ezekiel]

He didn’t interrupt the musing but he didn’t stop the smiling either. Of course, he happened to know a little something of why Oriena had turned to so much oblivion to keep herself afloat in the first place. He found Sasha’s deliberations sweetly delicious, especially as he decided to accept the misnomer of Zeke’s care. At that he glanced down at her like a sacrifice on the church tiles, completely vulnerable. He’d bought all Oriena’s Almaz debt, not because it was an investment or because he was feeling benevolent, but because he liked watching her fall. Over and over. Because she hated being indebted, and she hated being helped, but she hated abandonment more. She’d continued screaming long after Ilya’s girls were done knitting her flesh. And she’d whimpered long after that. Completely senseless.

Oh she’d hate waking up here. And Zeke was looking forward to it.

“You don’t owe me anything for that. The church is open to everyone who needs it.” He waved a hand at the sea of sleeping bags and partitions, and then he stood again.

“We’ve met. In fact his little undercity excursion is why we’re all here,” he said, though he didn’t elaborate further; it wasn’t exactly a secret. “He helps now and then, keeps the church stable, makes himself useful, keeps an eye on some of the little ferals.” A finger pointed up at the roof in example. The building had been abandoned long before the Angel repurposed it for the people, but there were no leaks from the storm outside. Nox had a beautifully complex sense of guilt, and Zeke made full use of it.