9267/Mending Fences

Mending Fences
Date of Scene:	24 December 2021
Location:	Sara and Cael's Apartment
Synopsis:	Cael invites Jon over after her visit with Raphael. The two air (the last of?) the problems plaguing their friendship, and set out into the coming battle on a firmer footing. Also: Bear's a Good Boy.
Cast of Characters:	Cael Becker, Jonathan Sims
Tinyplot:	Path of Glory

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Cael Becker has posed:
    The time since Raphael left has been a relief for Cael, and she's been enjoying the ability to do normal, every-day tasks with the oppressive weight of her despair making each movement a struggle. A shower was first - but this was followed by preparing a simple meal. Rice noodles, stir-fried with some spicy Thai sauce, eggs, tofu, and frozen vegetables. She settles in to eat it, and feels like she can taste her food for the first time in a week or more. Bear looks at her with a pitiful look - and gets tossed some of the noodles and egg.
    Her phone sits on the coffee table, as she monitors it for a reply from her friend. Maybe he won't reply, though? Maybe he'll simply come?

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    It takes a little while. Jon wasn't quite back on the physical plane when the text came, and then he has to recover from the trip enough to check his phone and walk to the subway and head to Brooklyn. So there's time enough for shower and food before there's a knock on the door.

    When the door is opened, Jon stands there wearing a brown sweater and jeans, black jacket, sneakers. Sneakers! Since when does Jonathan Sims wear /sneakers/? Or jeans?! He looks wrung out, hair mussed and eyes sunken, and there's a palpable aura coming off him of anger and pain, spilling into the hallway.

Cael Becker has posed:
    After checking to see who is at the door, Cael greets her friend in quite possibly the most uncharacteristic way possible - she embraces him in the hallway, without so much as a word of warning, or a by-your-leave. It isn't a short hug, either - she lingers there without a sound, not moving as one of the neighbors opens their door - stares at the pair, and then moves on to the stairwell.
    When she finally pulls back she says simply, "I'll put the kettle on for you. Don't mind Bear."
    And indeed, a massive white dog sits near the door where he's been watching them both, floppy ears cocked, tail periodically thumping on the floor.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon blinks down at Cael for a long moment, caught off-guard as she hugs him. But only for a moment, and then he returns the hug. Some of the aura fades, not so much that the emotions lessen as that he's better able to pull them back in behind the barriers he usually keeps them behind so he's not emotionally affecting everyone around him at all times.

    He runs his hands through his hair nervously as he steps in, then looks down at the dog and smiles. "Bear, hmm? That... certainly seems appropriate." He glances around and notes the 'therapy dog in training' vest near the door. "Ah... good idea." His tone is approving. "Is he, ahh, on-duty or can he get pets?"

    Jonathan Sims is a man who likes animals, okay. Pets are good.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I think he's done working for the day," Cael offers. "He's a good boy," she adds with a fond smile.
    She disappears into the kitchen, putting the hot water kettle on to heat, and pouring herself a coffee while it does. She leaves the coffee black, but starts making a little tray with some of the tea sachets Sara keeps in the cupboard, as well as some half and half, and some sugar. After she pours the boiling water into a mug, she brings it all out to the living room, and sets it on the coffee table.
    She settles into place on the couch while she lets Jon fix himself a cup - and she sips in silence until she sees that his cup is ready.
    "So," she says simply. "Tell me about Agnes."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon crouches down to gives the dog some pets, smiling broadly as he does and making the kind of cooing noises people make at animals. Bear is a good boy, and is surely doing good work with Cael, and it's very important that he take care of her, yes, yes, oh please don't lick my face--and so on.

    He pulls himself away as Cael comes back in and goes to sit down, making the /briefest/ of faces at the tea sachets. There's a /reason/ his husband's in his phone as 'MarTea.' He grumbles something under his breath about 'Americans' and 'pour the water over the sachet' and so on, but gets tea bag in cup and steeping--and then Cael drops the bombshell.

    His head snaps up and the aura floods /right/ back, a burst of pain that Cael might be able to feel, though not as her own. He takes a deep breath, to rein it in, and says, "Who told you about Agnes? I /swear/ I've never mentioned her." He's going through... who has he told that knows Cael?

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Raphael," Cael explains simply. "He- ...it, came to apologize for what was done to me. And he- I don't know. He made things easier - more distant. I know everything that happened to me, it just doesn't... it isn't occupying my every thought anymore. For the next two weeks, anyways."
    She takes a sip of her coffee, not commenting on Jon judgement of their tea supplies before she adds, "It told me she's your daughter. It told me her life is in danger - that she's been taken. So how do we find her? What do you know?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon takes long, deep breaths, staring at Cael. "I... Raphael...?" He swallows. "I spoke to Uriel, up... up in... we projected ourselves to the Silver City." He chuckles, bitterly. "I suppose while Uriel was telling us how we've all been /puppets/ for thousands of years, Raphael was... apologizing to you. Well, that was nice of it." That sounds sincere despite the bitterness to the rest.

    He sighs and stares at the steeping tea. His tone is odd for him, stumbling, hesitant in places. "I... did I ever tell you I was in a cult? I... don't think... mmm, no, not you." He shakes his head. "When I was younger... about 20. I got involved in this group called the Eye of Ra, a cult dedicated to the Egyptian gods. And I mean... a /cult/. Drugs, sex, ritual magic, mind control..." He shudders, and frowns.

    "The, ahh... goal of the cult was creating an avatar of Sekhmet, a sun goddess of vengeance and protection. She would... I don't know... be their messiah. Grant them immortality, raze the world of evil-doers..." He sighs. "At least, that's what we were /told/. I don't know if... how much of it was /true/. Turns out I learned proper magic, so that's... something?"

    He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Anyway, ahh, well. I... well. You know, in the course of... cult... activities..." A pause. "Look, I was /breeding stock/, okay? The cult leader, Elias, he must have known I had magical ability, he made me and Agnes' mother..." He shakes his head. "It... if not for... Alya was my friend, but not... we never would have... neither of us wanted... /that/."

    He swallows, hands flexing open and closed for a moment. "Sorry. I. Ahh. I've never... told... anyone. We... when Alya got pregnant we all... assumed it was her boyfriend's. Tim's. And Martin, ahh... he'd infiltrated the cult, and he... he got us out. And... and then when Alya went into labor, they... came for us. Alya died. Tim died. Martin almost died. I delivered Agnes, and... and... and then I gave her to a woman, she... she said she'd keep us safe. She said Martin wouldn't remember. He'd... live, and he wouldn't remember, and Agnes would be safe."

    His jaw clenches. "I expect she just went and gave Agnes right over to Elias. That's... who has her. We... rescued her from vampires, a few weeks ago, she's been staying with friends in Queens, and last night... last night... the vampires attacked and... and Elias must have sensed her use her magic to defend us and opened a portal and... and... and she's /gone/. I... I promised to protect her, and I can't..." He blinks rapidly, and tears suddenly spill down his cheeks.

    It's jerky and scattered, surely Cael will need to ask questions to clarify, but it's almost like once he started talking about it he couldn't stop, like it's poison being drawn out of him.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael listens to Jon's tale in silence, offering no comment on his remarks about heaven - or even on the cult, for the moment. She sips her coffee while he talks, sitting beside him on the couch, and watching the man's face. As he finishes, she lets a silence grow for a moment, while she takes a last sip of coffee, and sets her up down.
    "Well," she remarks. "You're a father. So... as challenging as these circumstances are, congrats, Jon."
    She turns her attention away from him now, calling over her dog in a coaxing voice, and patting the couch between her and Jon. "Bear Bear. Com'on - up." It's a tight squeeze with the two people and the oversized dog, but Cael directs the dogs attention over to Jon and, after given his person a quizzical look, Bear starts doing what he was trained to do. He starts crawling his way into Jon's lap - drapping his massive paws and forelegs over the man, and leaning his head into Jon's chest with a quiet whine.
    Cael gives Jon a few moments to regain his composure as she picks her coffee back up, taking a sip. "So. This cult is back in England, I assume? Do you think Agnes is still here, or has she been brought back across the pond? What can you tell me about their capabilities from when you were with them? Do you know anything about their membership numbers? Their weaknesses?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon blinks as the dog climbs into his lap and settles that huge head against his chest. The pressure just elicits a sob, that he chokes back, and then another. Jon's weird when he cries--he makes very little sound even when sobbing, like he's trying to be sure nobody can hear.

    But Cael's asking questions, and he tries to pull himself together enough to answer. "Yes. Umm. I... the portal was Elias, I know his magic. He... she'll be back there. With him. I... d-don't... umm..." He sniffles. "Magic, they all--the higher ranks--have magic. Not like mine, umm, it's ritual magic. One of the members I thought was dead is a vampire now? But I don't... I don't know much anymore, it's... it's been thirteen years, I..."

    He puts his hands to his face like he's trying to hide the tears. "I tried not to think about it," he whispers. "Martin and I don't talk about it. I was okay for... for a long time, but... I d-don't..." He laughs. "I'm not... umm... I'm not /healthy/, Cael. Mentally. I pretend to be, for my patients, but... Elias broke something in my head and it... it can't be fixed. Lived with, endured, but not... not..." He laughs, shakily. "I /really/ understand what you've been going through, you know? Quite a lot."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Some things can't be fixed," Cael agrees quietly, as she gives Jon time with the massive dog. She's only had the thing a few days - and already he was a huge comfort to her. She didn't mind lending him out a bit, while she was on the mend. ... for the moment.
    Two weeks to get her shit together. But could she?
    "I'm not going to pretend that this is anything other than terrifying for you. But Jon... I'll do anything in my power to find Agnes and bring her back here," she promises. "And- honestly, if you're not ready to face these assholes, you know you have friends who will. Right? You point us in the right direction, tell us everything you know..." There's a small, sad smile on her features - as she knows what a shitty friend she's been over the past week. Never the less she adds, "I've got your back."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon swallows and shifts his jaw. "I have to be there," he says. "I... I promised I'd protect her from Elias, and then I didn't. I keep... failing people. Keep saying I can help, and I... can't. I don't. I..."

    He looks up at Cael. "It's... it's not your /fault/, you know. It... well, it's not mine, either, but... I failed you. Over and over. And... and I figured you didn't trust me." He huffs a wry chuckle. "Why would you? I keep saying I know these things, I can help you be safe, but I can't. I can't keep /myself/ safe."

    He frowns down at the dog. Who is between him and the tea he hasn't yet finished putting together. But he just runs his fingers through Bear's fur and says, "I'm going to tell Michael the deal's--" He stops, like his throat is closing up. "I'm going to--I'm /not/ go--"

    He makes a sound of frustration and looks up, at something Cael can't see. "Damn you! Why won't you let me /go/? 'Fuck off' was meant for /all/ of you, not just the bloody archangel."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "We all do it sometimes," Cael says quietly. "Make promises we have every intention of keeping - but can't. I couldn't keep Alis safe. I couldn't- help my mother." She'd been a //child,// but did that really matter? It still ate at her, in ways she rarely expresses. "You wanted to help me. You tried to help me. And in the most important way - you did. Jon, if you and Sara and the others hadn't arrived when you did - if you'd been just... five minutes later? Three minutes later? There would have been nothing to save. So... don't let yourself forget that, even if- in my darkest moments, I have trouble being grateful for that." She smiles tightly, and sadly at Jon.
    As he struggles against a force she can't see, and can't really understand, her brow furrows and she turns towards him more directly. "Jon... What is it?" she asks. Was it the angels that wouldn't let him back out? Or something else? "What's happening?" she asks.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I am trying to..." Jon sighs. "When I said I could /not/ try to get out of my deal with Michael, I meant that quite literally. My gods won't /let/ me." He sighs. "I could go back on my word, but then I would... lose some measure of my powers. Maybe all of them, until I came back into balance. That's part of the price I pay, for what I can do."

    He looks down at the dog's head again. "And I can't... if I have to save Agnes, I can't let go of all of that. But... but I don't want to... they're setting me up to be some... some big player in this stupid cosmic game they're playing and I don't /want/ it. Uriel all but admitted he's manuevered me and a bunch of other people into the places we're in. This... this deal I have, technically speaking? Lucifer hurt Michael and I'm taking all the payment for it. And... and I made a choice. I /did/ that. I just..."

    He puts his cheek down onto the big dog's head and frowns. "I don't like the feeling I have, about where this is going. I... I don't want to be /used/."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "And it's not the sort of thing where you can save Agnes and //then// back out?" Cael asks in a wry voice. She lets out a sigh before adding, "I was used. It's - no, it's not a good feeling. And I- I tried, Jon.. I tried so hard. I asked Raphael to-" She shakes her head, letitng out a frustrated sigh. "He said I was robbing you of your free will. That I was doing to you the same thing as Michael did to me. ...bullshit," she mutters under her breath. "But the long and the short of it is, he won't intervene for us. At all, it seems." She can't disguise the frustration she feels at that, and she doesn't really try to.
    "But he also said you're on the right track, and that I should get my head out of my ass and listen to you more." Yup. That sounds like the words of an angel, right?

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon frowns at Cael. "Would you... /want/ him to intervene? I mean... he's got a point. My gods at least work /through/ me. They grant me the power, but I have to use it, and I /can/ use it for my own ends, I can refuse them so long as I'm operating within the principles of /ma'at/. They wanted my cousin dead, but killing family is /isfet/ and I'd rather not kill at all if I can help it."

    He sighs, and ruffles the dog's hair, then edges Bear up a bit so that he can lean forward and start putting half and half and sugar into the tea. "So umm... I've always been... /very/ religious. I had a brief stint where I was going to go to seminary. Become a vicar." He chuckles. "I'm sure it's not a stretch. Anyway, I /do/ know about all of this... the theology, the theories. And the general way these things get explained, is that part of the point of Jesus' birth and life and death was that God would no longer directly intervene in matters. They would work through mortals, through the saints." A pause. "Well. I mean. Anglicans and Catholics think this, let's not get into various evangelical denominations..."

    He stops. Shakes his head. "The point is that the idea is that between Jesus' sacrifice and the Holy Spirit that was given to his followers after the resurrection, God has given humans the tools to handle their own problems."

    He sits back, tea made. "There's a story I used to hear in church, about a man who was a true believer in God. One day it began to rain heavily and a big flood came. And the man climbed to the roof of his house, knowing that God would protect him. As the water reached his waist, a boat came by, and the man in the boat said 'Jump in, I'll take you to safety.' And the first man said 'No, I'll be fine. God will rescue me.' When the water reached his neck, another boat came by, and the man in that boat said, 'you need some help, jump in and we'll take you with us.' And the believer said, 'No, I am a believer, God will rescue me.'"

    Jon takes a sip of his tea. "When the water reached his mouth, a helicopter came by and the man in the helicopter threw down the rope and said 'You're going to drown, we're here to rescue you.' But the believer said 'Don't worry! God will rescue me!' So the helicopter flew away. But... it kept raining, and the man drowned. When he got to heaven, he met God, and he said, 'Where were You?! It was raining, and I waited and waited and I was sure You would rescue me, I've been a believer all my life!'"

    He glances over at Cael, and smirks slightly. "And God said, 'I sent you two boats and a helicopter... what more did you want?'"

    He chuckles. "So I might say... God has sent us an entire /team/ of mystic experts and warriors, happening to gather here, now, when we're needed. What more do you want?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Look - the way I see it, they //made// this mess. They expect us to fix it? That's bullshit. If one of their own is out of line - they're the ones that should be handling it," Cael replies - some of her anger and frustration leaking into her voice.
    She reaches out to scritch at Bear's ears, perhaps hoping to calm herself, while Jon sees to his tea.
    "I've never been religious. I haven't seen much of the sacred or holy in my life. And all this nonsense isn't... exactly endearing me to them, you know?" She lets out a frustrated sigh. "I know enough to know- I mean, Abraham didn't really have to kill his son. So - why can't some power intervene? Say that it was good enough that you were willing to sacrifice yourself? I don't see the logical consistency in the way 'heaven' behaves. I never have. I doubt I ever will."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon shakes his head. "It's... it's not that at all, Cael," he says softly. "Uriel said this is a trial. The Great Mother confirmed, through me, that it's... She called it a game. /Uriel's/ game. And that She wasn't happy that he kept using 'Her children' in his games."

    He frowns, thoughtfully. "We're being tested. I don't know why, or for what purpose. Admittedly, mortals can be... awful to each other. Cruel and heartless, greedy, violent. We saw Michael, up in Heaven. He said it broke his heart to do what he's doing--I don't think he /likes/ it. He said 'let us see if Creation can be restored to a level He will be content with.' I think he's testing us to see if we still have love and compassion. I just... don't understand why. That was the point of Christ, supposedly." A shrug. "Or, you know, it wasn't, and he wasn't the 'Son of God' at all.

    He frowns and sips his tea. "The Presence knew we were there and alerted /Uriel/, not Michael... Uriel said the planning for this goes back before the Fall of Atlantis... but that doesn't quite..." There's something there, tugging at the edges of his thought process. The answer, staring him right in the face, but he can't focus the right way to see it. He shakes his head and takes a drink of tea.

    "You're wrong about no power intervening," he says finally. "The Great Mother is. Gaea. I know her as Neith. She is... below the Presence, but the Mother of all us here on Earth. She may be resigned to these events, but She is not /happy/ with them. That's what I'm trying to get at, Cael. There are reasons that these powers cannot simply..."

    He turns to her, and looks at her gravely. "There is a /lot/ more out there than we know. Bad enough Heaven is invading--do you want Hell, too? The dark things in Nullspace? Whatever others beings may be out there in the cosmos?" He waves a hand. "I don't. I want them to leave us the bloody hell /alone/. You know what happened, when a power /did/ intervene? Gave us some of what we needed to fight this? I burned Michael's wing. You... why do you want someone else to come /fix/ things for us? Deals with these powers, it just makes everything worse. You get into debt you can never repay. Didn't you /see/ what just happened? I can't make all of my own choices, because of my gods. And... you want /more/ of that?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I just want people safe," Cael answers in a quiet voice. "Especially the few people I care for. You know how precious few that is. And I don't want //anyone// to go through what I went through. Not even the worst murderer, not even- not even the ones who shot Alis." She lets out a heavy breath, gaze down on her coffee as she adds, "Raphael confirmed what you've been telling me - that this deal you made won't kill you. But honestly? That doesn't really change anything for me." She can feel the ache and the fear such thoughts elicit still - but it isn't all-encompassing like it had been, at least. She'd take that mercy.
    "Raphael insisted the only thing I could do for you was to be there for you. And- well, for the next two weeks, I think I can. After that - I don't know. If the pain returns... I can't think clearly when it's like that."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon takes a long drink of the tea and then puts it down on the table. Evidently, so he can lean over and wrap an arm around Cael, to give her a sort of side-hug. "The only reason I'm not digging in your head to be sure he didn't actively mess with you is that a lot of therapy is really about... precisely what Raphael's done. Helping to decouple the pain from the memory. It's... something I've had to do, a lot, in therapy. My memories don't fade, ever, so to function I have to... change the associations. So... it's good to take the time to talk about this stuff and associate it with... not horrible things. With empowerment. With shooting Michael in his stupid smug face with bale water bullets." He grins at her briefly, and gives her a squeeze before letting go.

    "You don't want me to hurt. I don't want to hurt. Gods, I really was going to try to get out of it. I hate that they're doing this. I hate that you got dragged into it and hurt. Don't... don't think I don't agree with you. This is /wrong/, on so many levels. But the only way I know to handle this is to deal with it. Or to walk away. Gods, I want so badly to just... walk away." He swallows. "But you wouldn't, would you? Neither would Sara, or Wilson, or... the JLD, or SHIELD..."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael leans into the hug, with the Jon, but doesn't return it - as poor Bear gets smooshed in between them. He doesn't seem to mind as he lolls out his tongue and pants happily, laying her head in Jon's lap afterwards. Cael remains silent, staring down at what remains of her coffee as she considers her answer for a while.
    "If I'm being completely honest," she says slowly. "There's definitely been a part of me that wants to walk away. Or just give up. That... thinks it's better if everything were over. This world hasn't exactly been kind to me. But that's the part of me that wants to just disappear. To cease to exist - so. I'm pretty sure that's just the depression," she says in a wry tone. "And it's not exactly fair of me to let my mental issues destroy all of reality, and everyone in it. Is it?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon chuckles. "No... but it's not fair for your mental issues or lack thereof to /matter/ in the destruction of reality and everyone in it. None of this is... /fair/."

    He stares at the opposite wall. "I'm scared, Cael," he admits. "I don't want to go. I keep thinking... if it won't be that bad for me, then maybe it wouldn't be for everyone else? But then I remember if I undo the deal he comes for me anyway. Could I run...? I don't know." He sighs. "I thought... I thought I was being brave, and doing the right thing, and now... now I'm just /terrified/. And angry. I ought to call Lucifer and tell him to fight his own damn battles, but... I suppose I can technically use 'you hurt him but you don't have to pay for it' to get out of debt for the water to begin with."

    He peers over at her. "But the Archangel of Love says I'm on the right track, hmm? And for you to... get your head out of your own ass?" He quirks a brow.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael takes a deep breath in - and lets it out slowly. "Yeah," she confirms. "Something about proving there's still love and compassion in the world, I think. That I'm not powerless, and that in this battle... well. He made it sound like I'd be of the most use at your side, which means getting over-" Even with the curtain between her and the worst of her pain, facing these thoughts head-on and giving voice to them isn't the easiest thing for her. "I have to find a way of being around you, without thinking of what was done to me, and- what still might happen," to Jon. "I'd take your place if I could, you know. I'd rather that, then let Michael get his hands on another victim. And I do want to be there for you, Jon. I do want to help you - so I'll try to use this time to get better, and to help us prepare... And to find your little girl. Raphael made it sound like that was important - finding Agnes."
    But was stopping whatever was happening to Agnes what was important? Or was it simply insulating Jon from more pain before this battle begins?

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "She's the next Archivist," Jon says softly. "If I fall... then she picks up the mantle." A pause. "Gods, is that the plan? I'm supposed to die down the line, and Agnes becomes Archivist?"

    He frowns. "...I can't let that happen. I can't... Agnes can't do this. She's too young, she's /thirteen/. I /won't/ let that happen, if I have to argue with them in Duat if I die."

    He looks over again. "I know you'd take my place. But I think... they're preparing me for something. I could feel it, in the way Uriel looked at me. I think if it hadn't been this, it would have been something else, unless I just made all the wrong choices. And if it wasn't me? Then it would still be someone else." He smiles sadly. "Someone who wasn't your friend... but it matters to me. I wouldn't want someone else to take this on. Raphael was right, though. I... I don't do well, alone. I make stupid mistakes. I need someone around who'll tell me to not touch the big red button or surrender to the archangel."

    He frowns. "I haven't been giving you enough credit, I think. I keep thinking Michael chose you because of me... but I protected you because of you. Sara and Uriel talked about wild cards--well. What's more of a wild card than an entirely normal mortal that the higher powers can't be bothered to pay attention to? You refuse to accept all this as it is, and I think we're going to need that. I'd like to find a way out of this that stops these trials /period/, not just... set up another bout of this crap a few hundred years down the line."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "...yeah. I don't want to see any thirteen year olds going into battle," Cael agrees. "...and I don't want to lose you. I- part of why this was so hard," she says slowly and cautiously, "is that- I'd really come to rely on you, that week I was in Hawaii. Our talks were keeping me sane. I'd- I'd only just accepted that I could call you a friend, which is sort of a big deal for me. And then- for you to throw yourself straight into the same hell you'd just pulled me out of..." She locks her fingers into Bear's fur, seeking some sort of anchor. Some reassurance. "God, it terrified me more than I can explain. I felt... betrayed, and abandoned, and I know that's not fair, but..." She lets out a heavy sigh, her gaze locking onto her coffee once more. "I'm not saying this to make you feel bad, I don't want that at all. I just... I don't know."
    She finishes off her coffee, setting it aside before she adds, "I want you to know - I'm definitely not without sins, Jon. It's not just the B&E, and grand theft auto... I could have been tried for murder for what I did. We did a drive-by to get back at the Loonies for killing Alis. I drove. Innocent people were hurt - including a little girl. She was 10. Innocent people were //killed.//" Not the girl, thankfully.
    "I'm not saying I deserved what was done to me, but out of all of us... Maybe I just have the heaviest heart."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I never held the knife, but I was there for quite literal human sacrifice," Jon says quietly. "And besides--I violate the First and Second Commandments every day. I was /confirmed/, Cael. I /believed/. And then I deliberately turned my back on the Church and became a servant of pagan gods."

    He sighs, and goes on, "Maybe you do have the heaviest heart. Or maybe Chas just didn't know you well enough to stop Michael from going after you. But honestly? I don't /care/ what you've done. Not that way. I care what you're doing now, to balance the scales. Because... what /led/ to all of that? A dead mother, foster care, trying to belong somewhere. Trying to get vengeance for the death of your sister. And that... that doesn't make it right, that people died. But where does retribution end, and justice begin? Is retribution even justice, really? Does it heal the families of those who died, for you to suffer?"

    He runs his fingers through Bear's fur again. "Hurting me won't heal Michael's wing. Invading Manhattan won't be rid of whatever it endured, being our captive. And... maybe hurting Michael will help you feel better. But that will only be one piece of it."

    He sighs. "I'm sorry I... I'm sorry I betrayed your trust. It's fair that you felt that way. Feel that way. I can promise you that I don't /want/ to abandon you, or die. I don't have a death wish." A chuckle. "I know all too well how... common that is among superheroes."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "...shit, Jon," Cael remarks in a quiet voice, looking towards the man at his own confession. She isn't sure //what// to say to that. It's something she can't imagine of the man she's gotten to know.
    Then again - out of the people who know her now, how many can picture her as condoning murder like she had?
    She doesn't offer any further commentary on their sins, though, as she adds with a small smile. "I //felt// betrayed. That doesn't mean that I was. You weren't trying to hurt me - you were trying to protect the people you care about. There honestly isn't anything to forgive, and for my part - I'm sorry that the way I reacted to everything caused you pain. I know it did. And I wish I could promise you that it won't happen again but I- honestly, I don't know what I'll do in two weeks time when this reprieve //I've// been granted expires." They both have very different deadlines looming over them.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Thank you," Jon says. "I hope... I hope it'll be easier. That you'll be able to re-frame your thinking around the whole business. And... if you can't, if you go back to how it was...? It'll be alright. I can forgive you. I'm not..."

    He frowns. "I was mad," he admits. "A little. I... didn't want to be. I understood, logically, rationally, why you were reacting the way you were. But emotionally... my friend was pulling away from me right when I needed her. And that hurt, and I was mad." He sighs. "Damn it. Wilson was right. But, look, I can be there for you regardless of officially being your therapist. I don't stop knowing all of those things just because I'm not prescribing the medication."

    He frowns. "Maybe I can figure out how to replicate what Raphael did. It's... it's not a /terrible/ idea. Not if it's done with consent, and with an aim toward slowly learning to deal with the pain, without it being crippling. A telepathic block alongside therapy, instead of medication alongside therapy. But I'd want to clear it with your new therapist." A glance over. "Have you found one?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I hope so too," Cael agrees. "I //wanted// to be there for you - and I couldn't, and that hurt too. No matter what I did - I felt awful and I couldn't escape it. And there was- well, you heard him. Michael acted like I got the best of both worlds. Absolved of my sins, without paying with my life. That I was free, and I'd- never felt more trapped. I mean, except for when he- took me."
    After a heavy sigh, she shakes her head and adds, "Not yet. On the one hand I knew how important it was - on the other hand, goading myself into action, and making a decision..." Was almost impossible. "I'll find one," she promises.
    "Anyways. I think we might be avoiding the actual problem at hand. How do I help you free your daughter? And how do we prepare for her continued security when we bring her home?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "The latter is easy. Martin and I have an extra bedroom in our suite in the Trisk, and she's a future SHIELD... asset, if not agent. When I handed over care of the Archive to SHIELD I promised the Chief that I'd ensure that the next Archivist would continue the arrangement. We've always been attached to something external." Jon frowns. "I wish I could figure out what Gran was attached to..."

    He shakes his head. "So this will sound roundabout, but there's serendipity here--it turns out that Elias Bouchard somehow got hold of some of the pieces of the Archive, including a master list of the contents. And that matters--the Archive gives me power. I was already arranging an operation to break into the facility and... liberate various items, including the list. If Agnes is there, we get her out. If she's not, then we found out where she is and go from there."

    He frowns. "I... Martin... doesn't know. Doesn't remember. Can you... can you keep this secret? I haven't told anyone else, beyond a rather random being that will keep the secret. But I just..." He looks down at his hands. "I know I should tell him, I just... how do I admit I agreed to let someone erase eight months of his life?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Erased the memories - and handed over an infant child to an unknown woman to save their own skins. Oh, Cael took note of that - but that wasn't //her// Jon. That was the Jon that helped with human sacrifice. "No one will hear it from me," Cael promises with a small smile for her friend.
    "How quickly can we get this op put together, and what can I do to help you plan?" she asks. "I- ...I really don't want to alarm you, but from what I was told, they intend to kill her, Jon. And I wasn't given timeline."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Right before New Year's," Jon says. He frowns at Cael. Swallows. "/Kill/ her? Elias wasn't..." A pause. "Oh. /Bushman/. I... I didn't really register... oh, /gods/." His hands flex in Bear's fur for a moment, gripping tightly before he forces himself to let go.

    "Right. Alright. This was already top priority. So now it's... still top priority." He shakes his head. "Gods, I'm no good at any of this. I'm a /psychiatrist/. Why on /Earth/ did they choose /me/?"

    Sorry, Cael. This is part of what Jon-friendship means... hearing the self-doubts.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Raphael was very specific," Cael confirms. "She was taken by villains who mean to kill her to raise a false God," she explains. She watches Jon with a gaze that's both sympathetic, and concerned. She's never had a child - she doubted she ever would. She's only ever had Alis and her mother - and that was difficult enough.
    "I wish I could promise to bring her back safe, but I can promise to do my best to find and protect her. And-" Can she even promise to stay by his side through his grief, when she doesn't know what her own pain will do to her? "I want to stay by your side. I want to be there for you. Me and Bear, yeah?" she offers, leaning over abruptly go give the mountain of fur between them a hug.
    Bear seemed the perfect picture of patient steadfastness, as he turns his head to give Cael a lick with his tongue. "Ugh. You are so gross, Bear."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Yeah. I know. I want to promise to be there for you when your pain comes back, but... I don't know what Michael has in store for me or how long it will take to recover from." Jon smiles. "But I can promise to always be your friend, whatever happens. Friendship isn't about only being there in the good times, or when people are being perfect. Not that you should put up with /too/ much bad behavior, but..." He smirks. "It's been long established that I will put up with a lore more than I probably should."

    He frowns. "We're going to bring her back safe," he says firmly. "Because, damn it, the gods owe me that. If I can't get out of this bloody deal, if I'm going to play along with this bloody... farce, the least they can do is let me see that she's safe."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I hope you're right, but I don't put a lot of faith in the benevolence of any Gods." Now that Jon seems to be doing better - Cael pats her own lap, prompting Bear to turn around towards her. This isn't an easy task, and he ends up inadvertantly whacking Jon with his tail, and treading on Cael's let, before he can settles back into place. Cael wraps her arm around the dog, and rests her check against him as she adds, "So... Tell me about this God you serve? Why you're willing to do... whatever it is you do for them?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon flusters more than a bit as he gets whacked in the face by a dog tail. "Ah--I--ah!!" He adjusts his glasses and frowns at the dog. "Rude," he says to Bear. "Keep ahold of your tail, silly boy."

    That settled, he says, "Gods. Plural. The gods of ancient Egypt. The gods of my ancestors. Not my only ancestors, but they're the ones that the Archivist is connected to. And... that's part of it, really. Honoring my ancestors and the history of one of the oldest and longest-lasting civilizations since Atlantis. And I... I /believe/ in /ma'at/. Truth, justice, harmony, balance, order, propriety, reciprocity. The point of /ma'at/ is to live in balance and harmony with society and the wider world, not to sit around feeling guilty over every little thing you've ever done wrong. Guilt doesn't bring you back into balance--actions do."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael grins in amusement as Bear's tail gets Jon in the face, and she scritched behind his ears, murmuring quietly, "Good dog."
    Yup - still Cael. She doesn't mind having a little fun at the expense of her friends, as she offers Jon a brief, broad smile. God, it felt good to feel like herself again.
    She lapses into a long silence, though, as Jon talks - considering his words, and reflecting on them. Finally she offers, "Well... that doesn't sound so bad. That's- well. That's the sort of thing I could get behind, honestly. It's how I've tried to live. I don't do anyone any good dwelling in my guilt. I do more for the world taking action."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon smiles. "There are a lot of religions in the world. Some of them don't even really have gods, per se. And even many of the ones that do don't pretend that gods are infalliable or omnipotent. Often, whatever 'Creator' god there is, is unknowable or dead, and thus isn't really... involved in the world. There's nothing wrong with being an athiest or agnostic, of course... but if you'd like, I can point you at some resources to look into other religions. Maybe you'll find something that resonates. At the very least, it's part of understanding magic--a lot of magic is connected to one religion or another."

    He smiles. "I don't agree with a lot of my ancestors' culture--the Pharoah was seen as godlike himself, and they kept slaves, and... well. They were human, and thus imperfect. But there was beauty, and joy, and they built wonders that have lasted for millenia. The Nile starts as a tiny spring in Lake Victoria, and gathers in other waters as it flows to the sea. It floods, and the flood destroys, but it also irrigates the land. People are born, and people die, but life goes on."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'm not looking for a religion to fill my life, Jon. I mean... obviously this shit is more real than I ever gave it credit for, but... That doesn't mean any of them are worth of my worship, or that I //need// that in my life. I need... I need to leave the world a better place than I found it. I need to help people, and prevent pain. I need to help give people the second chance I was given - if they're looking for that exit. That's what I need."
    She gently strokes her fingers through Bear's fur as she adds, "I mean to make as big a difference as I can, in however much time I have, because... running around with the people that I do? Cap, and Barnes, and the like? Well. If someone doesn't make it through, it's not going to be Cap that falls. You know?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods. "I understand. I'm just... explaining my own beliefs. I /do/ need it, I think. To believe in something larger than myself. I..."

    He stops. Frowns slightly, and shifts uncomfortably. "It... I am... particularly suited for the role," he says after a moment.

    He shakes his head and goes on, "I pray you don't fall. No offense to Captain Rogers, but I don't know him at all well, and you're my friend. I mean, I'd rather no one..." He sighs.

    "People are going to die. This is partly on me--I'm at the center, like Lucifer said. And people are going to die. I suppose we should look to Rogers and Barnes and the Chief, their generation, for inspiration. They got through, right?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'd rather believe that there is no magic, no supernatural, no Gods..." Cael smiles wryly and shakes her head. "But I don't believe that anymore. I can't. So I //believe// in the Gods, I just- I'm not going to worship them. I guess I just need to mock people a little less for their beliefs. I mean - unless they're //really// dumb."
    She continues rubbing at Bear's ears as the pup seems to be dozing on the couch - now that he's cuddled into the lap of his person. "If it makes you feel any better - Cap doesn't put people at risk unnecessarily. He's a good guy, and I trust him implicitly. He, Barnes, Sara - they're always offered me cover on the jobs we go on. They know they can take much bigger hits than I can. But... I mean, I just really don't expect I'll die safe in my bed at the age of 96, you know?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon chuckles. "Yes, that train has rather left the station, hasn't it? But yes, it's entirely possible to /believe/ in something without /worshipping/ it. I absolutely believe that Loki exists, for instance, but he's also a nasty git that I don't want anything to do with."

    He nods. "I trust them to protect you the same way I want to protect you. I think most of us in this business want to help and protect each other. But I'm going to worry. I've lost a lot of friends--I don't want to lose more, when I'm just making them."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'm not trying to die - at least, I don't think I am." But Cael knows her brain is a twisted and confused mess. "But whatever happens you'll have-" she pauses to make a face, "'MarTea.' Yeah? ...and Agnes?" she suggests encouragingly.
    Her fingers still work through Bear's fur as she leans back into her seat for a moment, glancing aside at Jon, then down to the dog before she asks, "Do you want to tell me about any of them? This is one of those times where you can tell me 'Fuck off, none of your business, Becker,' you know."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon regards Cael with a /look/. "Snooping is /my/ job," he says.

    Then he sighs. "You remind me a great deal of my friend Tim. He only wound up in the 'cult' because he was trying to figure out how his brother had died... he didn't believe in any of it, and he turned on Elias before any of the rest of us. He was... fun, though. Loyal. Brave." He laughs. "He'd have looked at angels and asked how we kill them, just like you did. He loved to tease me... when we weren't fighting. I... treated him badly, for a time." He frowns. "I treated a lot of people badly. It wasn't a great time in my life."

    He sits back a bit. "He also used to do ridiculous things like... dating a filing clerk and a receptionist at the same time--all openly, mind--and using college funds to take them both out on the excuse that he was 'interviewing' them for a research project. Which he was! But... well... not /just/ that." He rolls his eyes. "He used to drag me to Pride every year. Said I was too stuffy, sitting in my dorm room all day. Used to have my back, when I'd inevitably piss someone off in the pub, even if he'd ream me out for whatever stupid thing I'd done, later."

    He blinks back tears. "I miss him. I miss all of them. I wish they could know all of you."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I wish that too," Cael agrees. "He sounds like an okay... bloke, yeah?" She offers Jon a brief, amused grin, before her expression gets more serious. "It's damned strange that you, and Sara and- well, others as well. That you get to know Alis. I- I spent so many years pretending my past didn't exist, that I wasn't ever Shelley Mason... It's been strange to readjust to it."
    She looks thoughtful before she adds, "And who knows? Maybe I will get to know your friend Tim somehow, someday. Maybe see a glimpse of a memory, some sort of echo of the past...? It's hard to say what'll happen in our lives, moment to moment."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Maybe," Jon agrees. He sighs. "I should talk about them more. I believe, like my ancestors did, that no one is truly dead so long as their name is spoken--and I haven't been speaking their names. Keeping them alive."

    He eyes her for a moment. "I have reason to believe I'll outlive... most of the people I know, if I don't die in the oucrse of my duties. Magic, essentially. So... when you die, I'll make sure to speak of you." He smiles. "Let's just not make it too soon, hmm?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I hope you do," Cael agrees. "I hope you can look back on the times when I was a madening ass, and tell the stories... and laugh at all the shit you had to put up with, to be my friend. I hope it makes you smile."
    She runs her hands down Bear's shoulders now in a rhythmic petting that she obviously finds as soothing as the dog does. The pup is lying still with his eyes closed - heaving out the occasional sigh at the only sign that he might still be awake.
    "But that's not going to be for another good... twenty or thirty years, yeah? Maybe more?" She doesn't believe it - but she says it anyways. "I know you, and Sara, and others'll always do everything you can to get everyone out the other side of the job - including me. So just- know I'd never blame you. Yeah?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Yeah." Jon hesitates. "And... and Cael, if... if this duty I have takes me before you... tell my stories? Speak my name? Tell Agnes how much you like teasing me and how /awful/ I was in training." He grins at her. "And, you know, whatever it is you like about me. I'm certain I must have /some/ redeeming qualities."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "God, re//deeming// qualities, Jon? This is //me// you're talking about. You're hoping for too much, there," Cael remarks - that teasing sparkle back in her eyes, and a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "I suppose I'll try to find //something//. 'He didn't make too much shit about the tea sachets when he visited.' Or maybe, 'He could really take a fuckin' punch.'" Even as she says it, though, something flits across her features - a momentary expression of regret - perhaps even pain.
    "You're- your shoulder healed up all right, didn't it? After what I- I mean, I know I apologized for that already. I know you don't hold me responsible, but- I still hate it."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon reaches over to pat Cael's hand, gently. "It's fine. I've been doing some extra stretches, physical therapy." He sighs and rolls his eyes. "Martin insisted on re-healing it, because I hadn't done a good enough job, and on the stretches. I'll be fine. If nothing else... it helped me test my healing magic. I think I can refine it, some, make it more useful. We're going to need that, going forward."

    He doesn't mention that he still has nightmares about being pinned to that wall. Of Cael finishing the job. Of /Michael/ deciding that's how /he's/ going to finish the job, come the 6th. No need for that.

    "I should see about getting home. I need some sleep. There's... lord, there's /so much/ to do." He rubs at his face. "I'm going to insist on seeing the Chief as soon as I can. Now that I've seen what we're facing..." He shudders.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael looks like she's about to say more - but as Jon starts to take his leave, she closes her lips, and swallows it back. Now's not the time. Hell - maybe that's better.
    "Well, there's two weeks of me being sane - so whatever I can do to help, wherever you need me... put me to work. I want to get as much done as I can. I //need// to."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon turns to look at Cael quite seriously. "You're going to be sane again after this, one way or another. Even if I can't be your therapist... I'm your friend. And you have Sara, and Alis, and Wilson, and... /so/ many people who will care about you and help you. Alright?"

    He reaches out a moment to clasp Cael's shoulder. "Hold onto that, when it gets hard. We got there in time because we busted our asses, because we /care/. You're going to be okay, with time."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I hope you're right. You probably are." Cael leans in towards Jon as he puts his hand on her shoulder, reaching out to try to put her arm around him in return. "But I still meant what I said. Put me to use, yeah?"
    Then, nodding to the door she adds, "Can you let yourself out? Bear seems so comfy right now. And- well. You can come back and visit him anytime you like, yeah? Or anytime you need. He's a good listener."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon reaches out to ruffle Bear's head for a moment. "He's a very good boy. Please tell Sara--I presume this was Sara's idea?--that getting him was an excellent idea. Even outside of trained therapy animals, just having pets is good for one's mental health."

    He sighs. "We should get a cat. I wonder what the Trisk policies are?"

    Then he sighs, and stands. "Thank you, Cael. I... it helps. Even if... even if you hurt again later? Can't look at me? Knowing that if your head's clear, we can be okay? It... helps. I'll be okay. Don't worry." He smiles, and then turns to go.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "It was Sara's idea, but apparently Alis helped pick him out," Cael replies. There's a fond smile on her lips, before she explains, "He is a good boy. He, uhh... He's really good at crawling his way into my lap when I'm having a difficult moment. And it helps a lot having him there in the bed with me, at night, if I wake up from a bad dream. I can't- there really aren't words for how much that helps."
    As Jon stands and speaks, her smile turns wry, and she offers a nod. "Whatever it is I say in my darker moments - please forgive me. I'm sure I'll regret it when I'm myself again. I honestly think I'll be a mess two weeks from now - but maybe two months from now...? Who knows."
    She watches him head for the door. She wants to promise him that they'll find the girl - that they'll save her - but she can't. She won't make a promise she can't guarantee. Instead she calls after the man, "I've got your back!"
    And once the door is closed again, she turns her attention down towards Bear, petting and stroking the creature. "You'll get a two week break too, hrm? That'll be nice. We can get to know each other properly for a bit..."