formerlysiryn | (no subject)

It's a distant thing now, her love for Jamie, but when she hears him - when he actually prays to her - she doesn't hesitate. Theresa Cassidy hears him, and the Morrigan answers the call.

It still amazes her, how easy it is to end something like the situation Jamie and Layla have found themselves in. She makes Jamie the man he once was, she dispatches the police with what amounts to a flick of her wrist, and it's done. It makes all her memories of the huge fights and struggles she's gone through in the past feel like child's play, and the memories of the women who have been the Morrigan before her agree.

Soon she finds herself having tea with the couple, and informing them of the team's whereabouts with ease. Being back in their presence is good - she can see them whenever she wants, but never visits - and she knows Jamie's answer to bringing X-Factor back together before he says it.

Strangely enough, she's okay with it.

There is a buzz in the back of her mind that reminds her the Morrigan has more important things to do than gossip and drink tea with mortals, and she says farewell to Jamie once more. Stepping out of the front door is only for their comfort; once the door closes behind her, she moves back to her realm.

What she expects to see are trees, rocks, a stream.

What she gets is a noisy city and and a feeling like the very air itself is pressing against her skin, trapping her in her own body.

The only outward sign of frustration she makes is a narrowing of her eyes (if she were to see them now, she'd be surprised to see the green irises returned, no cloudy gray covering them up), and she tries again.

There's no change. The same sounds and smells assault her senses, and a slight feeling of panic begins to envelop her - and the fact that she feels panic at all worries her even more. After taking a deep breath and pushing back those feelings, she listens. Beyond hearing, beyond seeing, she should be able to sense every single life on this street, in this city, in this country. Wherever she is, she should know in a heartbeat, but it doesn't work.

It's as though she's working with a burlap sack tied over her head and no information is coming through right. Darrow, she can get, and not much else. She tries again, and there is nothing but an endless stream of noise, too many minds to sort through the way she should be able to...no.

There.

Terry hears herself gasp as she comes back to herself. It can't be him. He's vibrant and similar to the lives around him - she almost passed him over at first - and she doesn't sense death around him, not the way she'd expect of a dead man, but... she has to see.

Without another thought to her current situation, Terry follows a tenuous thread, walking city streets until she stands outside a door, knowing he's behind it.

Her father, alive and himself.

How?

[She is wearing this.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's curious, Sean thinks, in a detached sort of way. Were he an outside observer, uninvolved, he thinks that he wouldn't expect such news to hurt, at least beyond sympathy, an ache for the way it clearly devastates Theresa. But it does, it hits him like a shot in the gut. For all that it's some tragedy from another life, a time he isn't meant to ever see, something else, it doesn't halt the swell of joy he feels at the news of Terry, his girl, having a child of her own, of them both bearing his name after a fashion. It's more than he'd ever dared to dream for in life, and just to know that it was all taken away so immediately...

He wasn't there. He'll never be there. But in this moment, he may as well be.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice tight, agony in his anger until he reminds himself that no, it wasn't all taken away. She's still here, and he holds her that much tighter for it as he gets a handle on himself. "I should've been there."

Also curious, Sean notes, that were he to again see the one person he'd felt was on his side the last time everything fell apart with Theresa, he could very well kill him.

Somehow, simply having shared it and hearing those words from Sean lifts a weight from Terry's shoulders she hadn't known she still carried. While she'd had people who offered support and she had her rage at Jamie, she hadn't a single family member to share any of her pain with (and even if she had looked for and found Uncle Tom, she wouldn't have gone down that route).

And, in a way, she knows he understands what it is to lose a child.

"I wish ye'd been there," she says, resting her head against his chest a moment longer. "I missed ye so much."

"I missed ye, too," Sean admits, one of very few times he's allowed himself to do so in the many months (and many years, though it's difficult to count a lot of them) since he last saw her, and it's not even the first time today. "Saints, I cannae believe it, now, after everythin'..."

The place took his wife from him and returned his daughter. Who's now managed to take a little bit more, though he's hardly about to fault anyone for that. Maybe their family truly is cursed, as the elders had always said.

Curse or no, none of it changes how glad he is to be right where he is right now.

"So ye jus' got in, then? Do ye know where ye're stayin' yet?"

Terry shakes her head as she steps away, composing herself again. She feels a little better, and though it's not as though a weight has been lifted, it doesn't feel so heavy at the moment. "I came straight here once I sensed ye. Wasnae payin' much attention to anythin' else."

"Once ye... sensed me. Right," Sean says with a huff. He'd be mad to think nothing would change in her life when his own has always been filled with naught but upheaval, but that one's really going to take some getting used to.

"Well lordie, lass, ye've got some settlin' in t'do. C'mon, I'll give ye a lift over to the train station so ye can get yer package."