These wounds won't seem to heal (Jake)

Subject: Re: These wounds won't seem to heal (Jake) Sun Apr 29, 2018 3:10 pm

Returning to the world had been more painful than anything Azalea had ever done before. Because now she knew she was Azalea, or at least one part of her was. How much of that part of her she could call forth, the witch wasn't sure yet. And the uncertainty caused by this realization - for realizations were now coming fast and hard and overwhelmingly to her these days - caused her to close up once more. The last two weeks were spent in a wakeful daze and sleeping restlessness as foggy images merged from erh mind to solidify into people and things she may have once known.

There was Mimosa, her strongest tie to the world. It kept her from retreating into the state of mindless obedience she had been in for the last decade as a pure defense mechanism. No matter how painful it was to attempt to stay awake, to try and listen to what was going on around her, she had to keep trying because of Mimosa. Mimosa was in pictures and she was in this room, her essence surrounded the witch and she knew that with time, the slowly developing concept of the girl would become real. If Azalea simply kept trying.

Then there was "dad". Azalea didn't remember what dad looked like, she know what dad was supposed to sound like but she knew the strong arms that held her while she wept. They had done that many times before, so long ago that even dredging up memories was exhausting. But dad was here, and he was real.

Clara was real too. She had been the easiest to remember, because she was always there, and would always be there. Being Clara. No memories were required, Clara had never imposed herself on others that way.

And then there was the unnamed thing inside her. The thing that kicked and mad her vomit and drained the life from her features at least twice a day. The reason she could't sleep on her side, curl up as tightly into herself as she would have preferred or move as smoothly as she used to be able to. The growth inside her became insistent as the days went by, demanding attention no matter how tired she was. The kicks especially got worse at night while she slept, waking her up as if she had been neglecting something important.

And that was all she could manage. The focus on Mimosa, a brief understanding of the two individuals who looked after her and a small awareness that something inside her was growing. After years of not having to think, this was a burden more than the witch could bear, often choosing to wrap herself in blankets and constrict her own movements in the hopes of stopping the thoughts too. Even instructions were starting to lose their effect on her. At first, she had eaten, drank and opened herself up for medical examinations but now, when someone asked her to stand, her body simply could not support her weight, leaving her curled up where she was.

The doll could no longer follow instructions, and she didn't know what to do of her own volition.

So when, some time later, the feeling of dread began to grow inside her where she sat, clutching the teddy bear, Azalea had no idea what it was. perhaps it was the thing inside her, finally trying to consume her from within? Worse still, when she opened her mouth to tel dad, nothing would come out, making her fingers cling to the toy harder as he told her of Cacti. Something terrible was happening and it was hard to breath. Azalea's brown eyes fileld with sheer terror as Clara opened the door, peeking in to ensure everything was alright.

And then...

The color drained from her face as he entered, a thousand moments assaulting her brain like sharp daggers, sharp azalea petals that hurt like daggers as a little girl sat on a bench, alone, unwanted, unmissed...

No one needs an azalea.

I need You.

Had she been more aware, she would have known her oxygen supply was running low, making her head spin and her vision swim. But breathing was not high on her list of priorities right now as image after image painfully flashed through her mind. Him on a broomstick, him draping a jacket over her bare shoulder, him kissing the smooth columns of her throat in a bath tub, him telling her he would always be there.

"Azalea..?"

That he would always be there.

That he would...

The witch lost consciousness mid thought, her body finally too weak to stay up from the lack of oxygen. Azalea crumpled where she sat, her face slowly turning blue because she had still not begun to breath.

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These wounds won't seem to heal (Jake) - Page 2 Rsz_gr10

These wounds won't seem to heal (Jake) - Page 2 Rsz_az10

These wounds won't seem to heal (Jake) - Page 2 Rsz_li10

Subject: Re: These wounds won't seem to heal (Jake) Sun Apr 29, 2018 7:50 pm

The two younger adults would have looked like a matching pair with their faces draining of colour in that moment. Their eyes were upon one another's as they watched. Waited for the other to say something past the only word that had left Jake's lips.

But nothing more came from either one of them.

Jake's mind was racing as he tried to make sense of all of this. He could not work out what Azalea could possibly be thinking in that moment, how could he know how she thought of him after all these years? No, Jake didn't know, and he simply waited for something... anything to happen in that moment.

It did, a few moment's later, as the whole room waited with baited breath for Azalea to do or say something. As she slumped sideways, the three people moved without second thought towards the youngest person in the room, Jake arriving first despite Kit's closer proximity.

The emergency first aid he'd been taught for his job had him switched off from the situation on an emotional level, he worked deftly, with Kit's aid to get Azalea led down on the child size bed, and then checked her airwaves. "She's not breathing." Jake pointed out, his head watching her frame for movement as he listened for a moment, two.

His hands moved to her chest interlocking and compressing the chest without hesitation. Thirty compressions, Jake counted out loud to the room, of her chest and then he moved automatically to give the two rescue breaths. The shortest of pauses, checking if Azalea was breathing, elapsed and the Jake repeated. Four cycles of CPR followed before a soft gasp met Azalea's lips, denoting she was back with them. Jake didn't move back in that moment, though, waiting, and watching her chest rise and fall gently for a few moments. Once he was sure she was back to breathing for herself, he pushed gently back from the bed, allowing Kit and Clara back to their daughter's side as he retreated back to the middle of the room.

A hand swept through his hair, pulling lightly on the way through as he looked back at the scene. Emotions flooding back in to his body as he watched Clara run her hand gently through Azalea's hair, whispering soothing words to the witch. Nobody talked except to Azalea for half an hour, perhaps more, Jake simply watching as he fought hard to catch up with the reality of the situation before him. Trying to understand how this was possible... what this meant... why he'd been called back here...

But the questions were not something he could raise now, so, when Clara looked up from Azalea after a long period of concentration, he motioned that he was going back downstairs. Another nod, nothing more, and Jake left the room silently, heading down the stairs. His legs were shaking with the effort, but he kept walking, finding himself in the garden of the Carmel property he undid the jacket of his uniform that seemed to be constraining him much too tightly and sat down upon the steps that led down in to the garden, sucking the fresh air in to his lungs deeply for a while.

His head went round, and round, and round the problem again and again. Trying to expel the answers to each of them through sheer will power. But, Jake Newbury had never been the brightest of men, he'd never claimed to be a clever man, but in this moment, he wished he had been.

Though, it didn't take a genius to work out that somewhere, somehow, Azalea had been let down once more, with the fact she'd been written off as dead in the investigation.

How long Jake sat in the burning heat of the Californian sun, he could not have said, but as the questions slowly drove him mad, he withdrew his phone from his pocket, and unthinkingly dialled the number he needed to speak to in that moment.

"Jake?"

"Mom..." The thirty one year old spoke, barely managing the word as he choked on a sob at the sound of his mom's voice on the other end of the phone.

"What's wrong, darling? Are you okay? Is Mimosa okay?"

A soft sound of assurance came from Jake's lips as he sat trembling on the steps, a shaky sob leaving him in the next moment. "Azalea's here, mom. Sh-she's not dead. She's... alive."

Alexis Newbury had spent the next thirty minutes calming her eldest child the best she could, telling him that it was going to be okay, that Azalea would forgive him. That time healed all wounds, no matter how deep they hurt now. Jake had let out the shakiest of agreement to her statement, lip trembling as he asked his mom the next question.

"What do I do, mom?"

"Whatever feels right, my love. Only you know what is right for you."

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» To heal the wounds, from lovers past (JacZalea)
» Wont you, come see about me? I'll be alone, dancing (Victoria)
» Potions that heal - Open to 5 (Potions - Winter Term)
» Around Again (Jake)
» You Kept This From Me?!? (Kit & Jake)