Owner	Pose
Cael Becker	It's after sunset in Hawaii when Cael calls - which means it's even later for poor Jon, with midnight already come and gone. Hopefully he doesn't have training at 7am with Sam to worry about? This time, Cael's relaxing on her bed - leaning back against the pillows and headboard, with her cellphone held in one hand as she waits for Jon to pick up. The way her head leans back against the headboard musses her hair - showing hints of vibrant rainbow hues hidden beneach her unchanged blonde hair, still in a short, neat bob cut.
Jonathan Sims	It's actually more like eleven for Jon, so if they don't take /too/ long he should get plenty of sleep before heading to training with Sam. Not that he's been sleeping well, at all. He's got his laptop set up in the office space within his and Martin's suite in the Triskelion, which they've evidently set up as a library, bookshelves lining the walls.     Jon's looks much as he did the day before--strained, a tension around his eyes that he's clearly trying to mask while talking to Cael. He's smiling as he picks up, sitting so the bookshelves and one of the fake windows common to the Trisk's suites can be seen.     "I see you dyed your hair," is his opener. "Quite vibrant."
Cael Becker	"Yeah. Alis and I snuck out on Sara and Wade and got it done," Cael confirms - turning her head and flipping up some of the layers, letting the bright, rainbow hues fall smoothly back into place, before she lets her head rest back against the headboard once more. "It was fun. I mean - as kids, we used to lock ourselves in the bathroom with Kool-Aid and peroxide and do this kind of thing - never this elaborate or well done, of course," she explains. "So it was- it was nice."     And yet, there's something hesitant lingering in the corners of her eyes, and her lips.
Jonathan Sims	Jon actually beams at Cael as she mentions she snuck out. "Snuck out and got your hair done? Excellent, that's... actually good progress." A pause, and then he says, "I'm being entirely sincere, by the way. It's important for you to... assert your independence, to recover yourself and your spirit. That you decided to just go and do it rather than asking your minders shows... a revival of that attitude. If I'm being honest, I'm surprised it took you this long to chafe at being watched all the time."
Cael Becker	"Yeah, well... I asked for it, didn't I?" Cael answers, her expression sobering for a moment. "I mean, you learn a little bit about suicide prevention going through the Police Academy, and on the force, and FBI training. Reaching out to friends, asking for help. And- and how many people wish their friend had, you know, done that. So..." She gives her a shrug of her shoulders. "This is what I asked for. But it kind'f sucks."     She lets out a sigh before adding, "And tomorrow we head home."
Jonathan Sims	Jon frowns for a moment. "Asked for what? Help? Or...?" He can see the way Cael's aura has dampened a bit, more than he'd think it would be given the outing. "What happened?"
Cael Becker	"Nothing," Cael says hastily. "...nothing really." Nothing important, anyways. Right? She lets out a frustrated sigh. "I, uhh... Wade and Sara were taking a hula class. I stayed and watched for a bit - got some photos. And when a distraction presented itself, me and Alis snuck off to my hair appointment. I texted Sara to let her know I was fine, and she should enjoy the rest of the class - but apparently Witchblade threw a fit about her failing to see me leaving, and it ruined things, and they didn't finish the class after all." And she couldn't help but feel responsible.     "She'd been looking forward to it - and they were having fun." And she ruined it.
Jonathan Sims	Jon raises a brow. "So... you, a grown adult who is not under orders by a doctor nor a court to be under constant surveillance, decided to go get your hair done--thereby getting some time to yourself and giving your friend and her boyfriend some time to enjoy an activity. You told your friend that you were fine, but your friend's magic bracelet got mad at her, and rather than ignore it she decided to walk away from her hula class."     A pause, and then, bluntly, "In what way is Pezzini's reaction /your/ fault, Cael? Even moreso, in what way is the damn arrogant /gauntlet's/ reaction your fault?"
Cael Becker	"I-" From the way Cael's features change - a moment of surprise showing, followed confused contemplation - it's clear she hadn't bothered to reflect on the situation that far. "But if I hadn't left..." she protests weakly. If she hadn't left, Sara could have enjoyed her class. But is that enough to make it her //fault//? "I just wish she'd been able to enjoy her class, is all. And... well, knowing that she didn't put a dampner on things for me."
Jonathan Sims	Jon regards Cael quietly for a long moment. Thoughtfully. Considering how exactly to put what he's thinking.     After that long moment, he says, "Why did you sneak off, Cael? Rather than just tell her where you were going? I'm not being judgemental--I'm just asking you to think. What prompted that decision?"
Cael Becker	"I just... I want to be on my own. I didn't want to- I shouldn't have to ask permission. But also - it's the kind of thing me and Alis used to do together, you know? In group homes, and foster homes - sneak off to a party, or sneak off to change our hair, or... whatever it was. It felt good to have that back," Cael admits in a quiet voice. She tilts her head back, closing her eyes as she adds, "It was just a bit of fun - and a surprise. Not much of a surprise when you let everyone know what you've got planned ahead of time."
Jonathan Sims	"Seems to me you're seeing Pezzini as an authority figure, rather than a friend and roommate," Jon notes. "Like I said--it's healthy for you to want to be independent, and it's /entirely/ healthy for you to try to re-capture your childhood. What isn't healthy is that you feel like you have to 'sneak off' at all. If I thought you needed watching every moment, I'd never have let you go off to Hawaii."     He frowns. "You asked for help... did Pezzini ask what that meant? What you needed from her? Did you /ask/ her to do all that she's doing... or did she just take it on herself?"
Cael Becker	"She's a friend," Cael says a bit defensively. "She's just- ...a bit worried right now. I frightened her. But we'll be back home soon, and-" And what? Things will go back to normal? //Wiil// they, though? She's less that certain about that.     "I didn't tell Sara what sort of help I needed. I just- I told her what wrong. That I- that I longed for that peace. I mean, hell, I still do - but it's gotten a little better."
Jonathan Sims	"So she didn't ask." Jon sighs. "Cael... this /isn't/ your fault. It really, really isn't. You are /not/ responsible for your friends' emotional reactions to things. She's scared, yes--and she's not handling it very well, by the sound of things. Once she knew you were alright, she could have chosen to stay at that hula lesson. She didn't, and I don't know why, but I can guess that it's far, far more about her own need to control the world around her than anything you did." He's guessing, but it's not really /hard/ to guess that a cop with an arrogant god-being on her wrist might have a need to control things. "I'll have a talk with her. Right now the /last/ thing you need is to be treated like a wayward child."     He sits back in his chair a bit. "So what /do/ you think you need? I have some ideas, but I think it might be important for you to be thinking of things yourself. Stretching those muscles, as it were."
Cael Becker	Cael shakes her head as she tries to sort out a coherent answer to Jon's question. It is - quite frankly - a //hard// question. "I don't know," she answers. "I needed this," she remarks," running her free hand through her hair. "I, ummm... Some of the stuff we've been doing, it's helped. Staying busy, and active, and moving, and having fun. I don't like sitting still for long. Except- well. I know these talks help." Immensely - even if the last one had set her a bit on edge.     "But other than that? I really don't know what I need. I know there's a part of me that wants to go chasing a chemical high, to try to get that feeling back. And... a part of me that knows what a terrible fucking idea that is."
Jonathan Sims	Jon smirks. "Let's... not, shall we? Although, if you do--please /tell/ me. I won't judge, but I can't help you if I don't know what's going on." He can hardly judge that without being a hypocrite. He craves nicotine after taking statements now, so badly it feels like he's been quit for a month and still has the shakes. But it's not going to be his first suggestion.     "So... I'd say that means you get back to work, if you're feeling up to it. Light duty, to start, and we can ramp that up however fast works for you. I have a couple of ideas for other things to keep you busy--one I'm sure you'll love and one you might not like so much." He grins. "Which would you like first?"
Cael Becker	"Have I tried to hide anything from you yet, Sims?" Cael asks in a dry voice. She lets out a heavy sigh. "I know I shouldn't turn to drugs. I know that. I know it never ends well." But she wants that feeling - and even if it had only lasted for a relatively short amount of time? It was disturbingly addictive.     She finally lifts her gaze to study Jon's features on her phone, a frown pulling at her lips before she remarks, "Let's start with the one I won't like," she suggests.
Jonathan Sims	Jon chuckles. "Well... I was already thinking of suggesting this before, but I think it might be a good idea for you to start training with some of the WAND agents. Practice fighting magic. I've been encouraging you to learn about protecting yourself, but I think you'll do better in a hands-on situation. Agent Blackwood--Martin--might be an excellent choice for this, actually. He specializes in illusions, so he can bring up all sorts of things you might face in the field so if you freeze in terror the first time you see, say, a true demon, it's not in a /real/ fight."     A pause, and then he adds, "...I was /going/ to suggest it as a joint exercise, since I could use some work with my shields and aiming--nothing worse than a paintball shot, of course--but I don't know what you think of anything that might, ahh... potentially harm me, just now."
Cael Becker	Cael grits her teeth for a moment, then lets out a sigh. "It's a sensible suggestion," she admits grudgingly. "It's better to know what you're up against - better to be prepared." Even if she is completely helpless still. Her gaze flicks away from the camera for a moment, as she can't help but feel all over again the helplessness of being unable to escape that room. Of having the angel squishing her in a vice grip, while tearing away her only defense...     She clears her throat, trying to force her mind away from those thoughts. "I'd- I mean... We live dangerous lives, Sims. I know that. You know that. Any of us could be killed on any given day - that's just how it is. If- I'd miss you. It'd be tough if... something happened to you. But where do I get off telling you you can't take any risks? That's bullshit. I ain't got that right."
Jonathan Sims	Jon frowns a moment. Takes a deep breath. "I understand. Look... think it over, okay? No rush, no pressure. It's an option--and I suspect you're less helpless against these things than you think. I once saw Tim Drake blow apart a vampire's head with nothing but a UV flashlight. What separates you and me isn't power, it's... /knowledge/, and experience. My hope is that in time you'll feel less..."     He sighs. "Cael... it scared me, too, okay? It's not... it's not like..." He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. "I can assure you that /most/ things you will face are not /nearly/ so powerful as... what you dealt with last week. Most things, I can help you with."     He doesn't mention that he /seriously/ pissed off the archangel. That his number may be up the moment it's free--unless they can send it back in a way that means it's stuck back in Heaven. But there's that undercurrent of fear that he just admitted to.
Cael Becker	Cael's attention is drawn ot Jon's features, and she studies him in silence, a frown pulling at her lips. Most things are not near so powerful as the angel. "You learned something." It wasn't a question. "From talking to Chas?" she asks.     She bites her lip, hesitation and trepidation clear on her features - and it takes her a little while before she manages to slowly force out, "Did you learn anything that you think I need to know?"
Jonathan Sims	"I took Chas' statement," Jon says quietly. "I know why he summoned the angel, and where things went wrong. And I spoke to the angel residing within him. I know what it is, /who/ it is, and what its goals are."     He frowns. "I... normally would advocate for sharing everything, but it's partly up to you. What you think you can handle hearing, right now. Do you /want/ to know? Would knowing help?"
Cael Becker	"I don't know, Sims. How am I supposed to answer that?" Cael asks. "I normally want to know. I normally want to help. But how can I help with this? I'm //powerless// against it," she says with bite to her voice.     "Is it bad?" she asks. She doesn't pause for an answer before she adds, "You're scared - it must be bad." Very bad.
Jonathan Sims	Jon hesitates for a long, long moment. Considering. What will Cael think, when she finds out, if he /didn't/ tell her just how bad it is? Will she be angry? Upset? What will she think when she finds out that he /did/ endanger himself, getting the angel's name, in part for her sake? To banish it so she'd never have to worry about it again?     Didn't he /just/ say she shouldn't be treated like a wayward child?     He sighs. "...It's Michael, Cael. The archangel. It responded to Chas' call for help because it's looking for a way to end... the universe. To restart the 'experiment,' with less free will the next time 'round."     He swallows, and looks away. "I... tortured it, for the information. It is /very/ angry with me. But without that, I don't know that we could even have a chance to... to put it back where it /belongs/. It's /enormously/ powerful. More powerful than anything I can find in the Archive."
Cael Becker	Cael stares at the screen. Her mouth opens. It closes. She considers simply turning the phone off - but she doesn't.     She does put it down, though, - face down on the bed, as she breathes heavily and unevenly, pulling her legs up tight to her chest, and burying her face in her knees. What is she supposed to do with that? What is she supposed to do with any of that?     "Shit, Sims. Shit," is all she says at first as she continues to mostly focus on her breathing, trying to get it under control.     He wants to end the world. The whole fucking world. "Even on my worst day - I don't want to end the world. How the fuck- what're we supposed to- Shit, Sims."
Jonathan Sims	"Hey," Jon says, tone suddenly comforting, the fear pushed right to the back of its mind. "Hey, hey, it'll be okay. We'll stop it. Whatever his plan is, we'll /stop/ it. Alright? It's... we're... there are other people in the Justice League Dark, and among our allies, that have faced this kind of thing before. The Sorceror Supreme showed up today, John and Zatanna and Meggan all have a lot of power..."     He swallows. "Cael? Cael, are you... there?" The screen's gone dark, but the call hasn't dropped, and he can hear her breathing.     "Fuck. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... I'm sorry. I just..." He runs a hand through his hair. "You deserve to know. You deserve a chance to decide whether or not to help us fight this. But I shouldn't have... I'm sorry."
Cael Becker	"I'm here. I'm here," Cael answers - though she doesn't reach for her phone yet. The screen remains black for Jon - leaving the video call as- well, simply a //call//.     She feels her fingers digging into her arms - and suddenly she's acutely aware of her hands, causing her to pull her head back enough to stare at them. Her hands.     She shouldn't have hands - not anymore. He'd meant to take them - and her feet. She was going to help him with that. She'd approved. Welcomed it.     Oh, God.     Of course - her own fate was one thing. This was something else. She could let him have her. But the universe? "What can I do against something like that? How could I help - even if I wanted to?" she asks, without much hope in her voice.
Jonathan Sims	"You can throw bale water at it," Jon replies. "You can look at the pieces of a puzzle and help us figure it out. You can... lord, I don't know, maybe we can enchant a weapon with negative energy so you can hit the damn thing. You're much better in a fight than I am--all you're lacking is the ability to channel the sort of thing that'll hurt it."     He frowns. "Or... you can help us get people to safety, if... if this comes to being bigger, and wider, than just our little bar in Manhattan. You can coordinate evacuations. You can make sure we have supplies."     He's talking about war. But, then, Michael's the leader of the armies of Heaven, right? It makes sense.     "You... there is /so much/ you can do, Cael. That /anyone/ can do. You don't... you aren't /helpless/ just because you don't have magic. That's the mistake Chas made, thinking that way. That's why he summoned the angel in the first place. But... but you're /not/. You have /choices/, and angels... don't, really, usually. Even Michael's just bound up in his purpose, in... obsession with order and perfection."
Cael Becker	"Where do I send them, Sims? Where can people go where it's safe? He wants to end the universe," Cael answers, without much energy in her tone. God, giving in and finding that //chemical relief// was sounding like such a good idea right now...     "You said his name's Michael? The archangel? What does that mean, exactly?     No - she's really not that well versed in her religious lore.
Jonathan Sims	Jon sighs. "Michael is an archangel, one of the highest ranks, one of the most powerful beings in the universe. He watches the gates of Heaven and commands the armies of the Host. He is known as the Guardian of Israel, the Slayer of the Dragon, the Revelator."     He swallows. "But... he's not supposed to do this. I /know/ he's not supposed to do this. He cannot simply snuff out the entire universe or he would have by now--he has to play within very strict rules, and the stories and books all indicate that he'd stage some kind of invasion. That means we can hold him off, figure out how to defeat him. And we /will/ figure that out. I have faith, that we're in the right place at the right time, to do so. I don't think it's an accident that of all the pleas Michael could have chosen to answer, he went for the man surrounded by mystical experts with experience saving the world."     He shakes his head. "Look, it's... it's big, but it's not... damn it, Cael, all hope is not lost. We have weapons. I have /two gallons/ of its blood, and that's... not insignificant. That might be enough to give us all the edge we need, right there. So what would you do, if this were a /physical/ threat? Some terrorist bent on detroying the world?"
Cael Becker	"Fight like hell," Cael answers in a quiet voice. "Bring in as many agencies as I could. See what tools or weapons I could use. Bring in Cap, maybe Barnes to help. Fight to my last breath, if I had to. If I thought- thought I could be the difference between victory, or defeat. Or... or if it could just be the difference between 10 lives lost, or saved. You do what you have to... It's my job."     Cael's silent a moment before asking softly, "I don't know if I can face this thing though, Jon. What if- what if one look at it, and I want back on that cross? What if I beg it to take my hands and feet? What if I fight beside it, to end the world?" What then?
Jonathan Sims	It helps that she can't see him. He doesn't have to school his expression. He puts his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands. Grasps at some of it, pulling on the roots hard enough to hurt. Trying to tell himself he hasn't entirely fucked this up until he's done talking to her.     "Then I do everything in my power to bring you back," Jon says firmly. "I already did. That already happened, and if it happens again then I remind you who you are, and I bring in every other friend you have to do the same. You're not alone in this--and this thing, it's... it's no different than brainwashing, really, in the end. HYDRA can do that, right? So, if it was HYDRA, and not this angel... would you feel like you couldn't face them?"
Cael Becker	Cael starts to cry then - hugging desperately to her legs, her face pressed into her knees, the sound of her muffled sobs carrying clearly through the phone. It could happen, then. It could happen again. It could take her back, and there would be nothing she could do about it - and she would be his all over again. It was better to be dead than that, wouldn't it? To go through that pain again? To put her friends through all that?     "I want to fight," she finally manages to gasp out. "I want to help - but I'm so scared."
Jonathan Sims	"I know," Jon says softly. "So am I. It's... it's /normal/ to be scared of this. That's why I suggested training. That's... why I was going to suggest you start racing again, to... to reclaim some of yourself, to remember who you are. That you're... strong, and brave. You're asking for help. You're trying to make sense of things. You're trying to figure out what you can do."     He sighs. "I'm sorry, Cael. I am. I... I thought it would be better that you know, and have some time to process, before you got back home. Not just... have it thrown in your face."     He hesitates a moment. Then, "Cael, would... would it help if you could... face it, before we exorcise it? If you could /know/ what your reaction would be?"
Cael Becker	Cael lets out one of those laughs that's more sob than humor. "I want to be that brave," she admits. "But I don't know. I don't know if I am. I'd rather kill myself than let it take me again, Sims. I'd rather die," she says plainly. "I don't want to be its victim, I don't want to be its tool..."     She lets out another sob before asking, "Can you bring me back again - if it gets in my head? Are you sure?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon takes a moment before he answers. Because he's not going to lie to her, and... he wants to be sure. /Can/ he? /Is/ he sure?     He's sure he'd die trying, if nothing else.     "Yes," he says. "I believe in you. I believe in /us/. I did it once, I can do it again. Absolutely."     He's actually kind of surprised at how confident he sounds. How confident he /is/. He believes in Cael... now if only he could get her to believe in herself.
Cael Becker	"I stabbed you," Cael remarks. Her sobs seem a little more under control - maybe that quiet confidence was chipping away at her terror, after all? "I'd rather die than do that again, either. You know that, right?" she asks.     She forces herself to take some deep, slow breaths. To try to think beyond her terror - and try to find her logical thoughts again. It isn't easy. "I can't face him alone," she says with certainty.
Jonathan Sims	"I'll go with you," Jon says immediately. "If you want to see him, I'll go with you. Or someone else can, if you'd rather."     He takes a deep, shuddering breath and sits up. "I won't let him hurt you, and I won't let him use you to hurt me." He's still surprised at how firm his voice is. "Not again. That's /my/ job. You've got my back on the field, I've got your back in this. Alright?"
Cael Becker	That, at least, finally manages to cut through the terror to strike a note that rings true for her. She's got his back - he's got hers. "You've got me," she repeats quietly, lifting her head so she can rub at her face, wiping away the tears. "You really think- you're certain that- there's really something I can do - to help? To keep others safe? You're certain I can make a difference in this?" she asks.
Jonathan Sims	"Yes," Jon says, and this confidence /doesn't/ surprise him. "I told you that magic is a matter of applying one's will to change reality, right? There are things humans can do that no angel could ever fathom. Angels don't... run off to dye their hair rainbow colors, or write sonnets, or make music save that supposed 'holy holy holy' 'round the throne of Heaven. Angels cannot have children--angels have never /been/ children. Every mortal has a little spark inside them, something that lets us do things the Host cannot replicate, no matter all their power. Humans are /creative/. Angels cannot be."     He smirks, even if she can't see it. "I am certain, if it comes to it, you'll think of some way to help that I would never even guess, and probably leave those meddling gits gaping in surprise."
Cael Becker	"I want to help, Jon. I want to... I want to keep people safe. I want to make sure this never happens to anyone else. I want to- God, I want to smack him straight in his smug fucking face. I'm not a bad person. I'm not. I've done awful things. I-" she grits her teeth. "I've gone awful things," she repeats. "But I'm not a bad person. But I am glad you tortured that sick fucking- He wanted to cut of my hands and feet. And I knew it. He made me know it. And I- I welcomed it. I was helping. I put the nails- I put them so it would be easier to cut them off. He makes sure you know what's coming. It's sick - and he deserves..." to suffer. Like she's been suffering ever since.
Jonathan Sims	"He's lost all the feathers on one wing, and the stuff I used was my own water--which has healing properties--changed by the Morningstar himself. Lucifer. Bane to an archangel." Jon smirks. "He's suffering. And he'll suffer more, when we send him right back where he belongs and make sure he /never/ wants to leave his post guarding the gates of Heaven ever again."     Not that he enjoyed it, not really. It felt more like a grim duty--the only way to get the information he sought. But there /was/ a kind of satisfaction in telling it to go away when he was done, and comfort in knowing he has two gallons of its blood stored in the Archive now.     "How are you doing, then? I already told you the bit I thought you'd like--I really do thihnk you should take up racing again."
Cael Becker	Cael lets out a laugh. There's not much humor in it - but at least it isn't a sob, this time. "I feel like shit, Sims. And I'm terrified. I mean - com'on. What answer do you expect to that question?" She rubs her face with both hands now, scrubbing away her tears, and composing herself enough that she reach down, and pick up her phone again.     "Do we have anything approaching a plan yet?" she asks bluntly. "Who all is in on this fight? You mentioned Strange, and some of your friends..."     Cael's expression is solemn as she looks into the phone - and haunted. She stands no chance of sleeping well tonight.
Jonathan Sims	"John Constantine, for starters, one of the finest exorcists in the world. Possibly /the/ finest. If he'd known what he was dealing with the other night, I have no doubt he could have dealt with it there and then." Jon's faith in his friend might be misplaced--but, then, it might not. Constantine /is/ rather good at dealing with summoning, binding, and exorcism.     "The others... well. Powerful magi and mystics and people of faith, a literal faerie queen, a girl with a spark of the Light of Creation within her, the Witchblade. The Justice League Dark. This is what we're supposed to deal with, /precisely/ this. When aliens invaded, the Justice League rose to answer the call. When Loki brought frost giants to New York, the Avengers assembled. And when Saint Michael the Archangel declares his intent to destroy reality--the Justice League Dark will face him."     He doesn't mention that they technically /don't/ have a plan yet, beyond 'exorcism.' But they will. He's certain of that.
Cael Becker	"I don't know that I belong in- well. In company like that," Cael answers quietly. She takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly, trying to further steady herself. She's okay. She's okay. Sims has her back. Sara has her back. Alis won't let anything happen to her. She's okay. She's stronger than most, and she can help.     "I'll do what I can to help, though. I've always felt if I traded my life to help others - then it would be worth it."     She smiles wryly as she adds, "and racing again sounds nice, by the way."
Jonathan Sims	"Truth be told, I'm not certain I do, either," Jon admits, with a rueful smile. "I used to be therapist to these people, used to be married to one. Not even a sidekick. Now... well." He shrugs. "I have found, a lot of times heroes are just the people who step up. There's wizards and mages out there who aren't saving the world, and there are people with no 'powers' in the Justice League /and/ the JLD. There are many people with no powers who dealt with the war between the Gods of Death. If you belong, you belong, and you'll step up and fill in your place amongst us."     He raises a brow. "Besides--give you some negative energy-infused brass knuckles and I'd bet you could at least take on a lower-powered angel. You're better at that than I am. Don't sell yourself short."
Cael Becker	"People like Sam," Cael says quietly. "Like Barton." Fighting with the Avengers day in and day out - without a lick of power. She takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly.      "I threw him, you know," she remarks. "The high falutin Archangel, Michael. Tossed him over my shoulder, and he landed on his back. I mean- he was Chas. He looked like Chas. But he was... strong. It surprised him, that I could- I mean, it didn't make any difference." But still.
Jonathan Sims	Jon beams at her, a bright smile. "But you /did/ throw him. I couldn't have done that." He leans forward, hands clasped on the desk. "You are stronger than you know, in /so/ many ways."     He smirks. "I would've liked to have seen the look on his face. I imagine he was surprised."
Cael Becker	"I've been training with Cap," Cael explains. "I mean, if I'm going to be running around with the Avengers - facing the same threats as them. If I'm going to be running around with //Hulk// - I have to know how to deal with people more powerful than me. You know? It's- it's hard. But you can learn it. And honestly, there's little chance of beating 'em, it's more... holding your own to help arrives. Or keeping them distracted and occupied until circumstances change. Cap kicks my ass on the reg." She lets out a sigh, and shifts her shoulder as if at some remembered pain.     Same shoulder as the one she'd stabbed, coincidentally.
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods. "And that's precisely what I'm wanting to offer you, with magic. It's really not that much different, fundamentally. It's the particulars that are different--and you /can/ learn those. I mean, I'm probably far less qualified to run around with Captain Rogers and Dr. Banner than you are."     He smiles softly. "Earlier, I meant... are you going to be... well, maybe not okay, but... stable, at least?" He's clearly worried that maybe he messed things up.
Cael Becker	Cael doesn't answer right away. Instead, she stares off into the distance a frown on her features. Is she okay? She's absolutely not okay. They both know that perfectly well. So what //useful// response can she give to the question? "Are you asking if I'm going to harm myself as soon as you disconnect the call? 'cuz... no. I'm not. And since I don't have my hands on any heroin either, that's not an option." Her lips quirk just enough to show that that was a joke in poor taste.     Though too much truth often lurks behind such jokes.
Jonathan Sims	"If I were seriously worried about you hurting yourself, you would not be in Hawaii, Cael," Jon says bluntly. "You wouldn't be in a hospital, either--we'd work something out. But I trusted that you would tell Pezzini if you were feeling truly awful, and that your sister would help you with medication, and that you'd have a good time and distract yourself some, which it sounds like you did."     He sighs, and gives her a sympathetic look. "But yeah. Mostly, that's what I meant. That I don't need to call Pezzini. I know it's a lot."     A slight frown. "Do you need anything else? Really, anything. Tell me I'm a jerk for dropping this on you over video call, make fun of my hair, whatever."
Cael Becker	"Your hair is awful," Cael tells him blithely. "You should go get it styled and colored. I see you with some electric blue added in," she says in a dry tone, her smile small, and tight.     She takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly, her gaze staring off at the wall for a few moments, before she'll look at the screen once more. "You're the jerk. It's- well. The situation fucking stinks. Maybe I- I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't have asked. But if the world ended while I was still laid up by all of this - I mean, boy I'd have mud on my face, you know?"
Jonathan Sims	"Remind me to show you some pictures from my uni days," Jon says blandly. "Streaks of fire-engine red, or green, depending on the year."     He nods, and sighs. "I'm sorry. I am. But now you've got some time to process it before shit goes to hell."     He smiles. "I'm glad I'll have you at my back when it does, though, Becker."
Cael Becker	Cael gives a jerky nod of her head. "As long as you're at mine," she agrees quietly. "As long as you keep that bastard out of my head. I don't want to hurt anymore friends, Sims. Once was once too many. I, uhh... I'd rather hurt myself than hurt my friends," she admits.
Jonathan Sims	"Well, we can't have that, now, can we?" Jon smiles. "I've got you, Cael. Alright? Everything'll work out."     He sighs. "I think we're good, then. We can talk about racing when you get back to New York, okay? And... think about the things I suggested. Tell me when you're ready."
Cael Becker	"No, can't have that," Cael agrees. She's silent for a moment, nodding in response to his suggestion, before meeting his gaze on the screen with a deadly serious gaze. "Jon. If it ever came down to it - if they ever managed to twist me into something that was a real threat - I'd rather you guys took me out than let that happen, okay? I mean - I'm not saying go lethal if you don't have to. But I would want you to do anything necessary to stop me. You know that, right?"
Jonathan Sims	Jon swallows. Hard. "I... don't know that I could kill you, Cael, because I don't know that I could kill /anyone/. Short of that? Yes. Absolutely."     A pause. "But I would be sure that /someone/ took you down. You have my word on that. Alright? There are other people around who would be willing."
Cael Becker	"I know it's asking a lot, and I hope it never comes to that sort of a choice. But I don't want to be a weapon against my friends. I don't want to be a reason they win, and the world ends. I'm probably being overly dramatic, and it'll never come to something like that, but- thanks. Seriously," Cael says in a solemn voice, a small smile on he features. "It means a lot."
Jonathan Sims	Jon nods. "You're welcome." He sighs, and then says, "I think I'd better get some sleep. /Some/ of us aren't on vacation anymore, and need to get up to train with Agent Wilson in the morning." He grins. He's teasing. He's the one who put her on medical leave after all.
Cael Becker	Cael nods her understanding as Jon decides it's time to end the call. "Plus you're five hours ahead of me," she remarks. She takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "Tell Sam I said hey - and that I'll be back for training next week. And give Redfox a berry from me, yeah?" she suggests - a smile flicking across her features for a moment.     "Goodnight, Jon." She doesn't tell him to sleep well. She doubts either of them will.