It's easier to follow his breathing and his movements, easier to regulate herself when she has him as a guide.
The panic fades, eases a little, and something like exhaustion sets in. "I will give him a proper apology later," she decides. "And I hope he - sleeps better."
"I hope so too. I think he will let people give him some assistance other than alcohol. When you are feeling ready, I want to talk about all the things that I think you did right."
A rather different post-mortem than they've had before.
"But right now I think you should have some water and a snack, and either rest or something to distract your mind from the very weighty things, a game or a craft, something that you don't have to think about too much, that uses your hands. What do you think?"
She nods and pulls away. "I was working on my embroidery," she tells him, standing up from the bed to retrieve it. She usually works on it while she's in the Wardrobe, but she wouldn't mind the break.
"Alright. I'll be back in a few minutes," he promises, dropping one more kiss on her forehead before stepping out.
He goes to fetch his tea set and start it brewing, and some of the little meringues he likes best, and heats up some dumplings Hakkai left in the fridge, coming back with everything on a tray.
Justine sits in her chair by her quiet fireplace. There's music playing from her little player, mostly songs from Rent and Chicago, and she is decidedly more relaxed than she was when he left.
Her fingers move with practiced care along a patterned handkerchief, embroidering small flowers.
He sets everything down and pours her a warm, gently steaming cup of tea, and doesn't speak first; if she's enjoying the flow of embroidery, he wants to let her have it, let her wash out the panic and disorientation with the steady and familiar.
She doesn't look up or speak, but she does reach out for the tea after a while, letting herself get lost in her music and her work. When she is feeling better, calmer, her tea drained and set aside, she finally does break away.
She sets down her embroidery and smoothes out her skirts. "I wanted to help him get somewhere to dry out. I was worried that he would not be safe in such a state. I was...I remember I was angry at him for being so drunk in public. How...how it wasn't fair that a man in his profession could act like that and be so damning of me. It reminded me of the anger and embarrassment I felt for Malo, when he was drunk and in public with me."
Her fists tighten around her skirts, knuckles white. "I was angry with Monsieur Oscar for it."
"Your feelings are not a crime," he says softly. "Kindly or no, Oscar cannot demand you put away that old pain and fear, any more than you could choose to simply forget it. I'm glad for you, that you are able to see that he has been different. It was truly good of you, to wish to help him, even in spite of your anger."
"You also ought not demand it from yourself," he adds, very gently, smiling a little. "Any more than you would demand for a rose to bloom in the middle of winter. And you did help him, when you were brave enough to call me right away instead of trying to hide what had happened."
He gives her hands a little extra squeeze.
"You were upset, angry, thinking of painful times, but you only meant to help him to his room. Then what happened?"
She swallows hard. "He walked past me," she starts out. "I smelled the alcohol on his breath. He kept walking and...and I wanted to hurt him. So I shoved him."
"Malo played violin," she reminds him softly. "I heard it when I was in the cellar, too. During my experiments. I read a newspaper clipping of - the concert. And I could hear the violins even though I couldn't remember."
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Re: after
The panic fades, eases a little, and something like exhaustion sets in. "I will give him a proper apology later," she decides. "And I hope he - sleeps better."
Re: after
A rather different post-mortem than they've had before.
"But right now I think you should have some water and a snack, and either rest or something to distract your mind from the very weighty things, a game or a craft, something that you don't have to think about too much, that uses your hands. What do you think?"
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He goes to fetch his tea set and start it brewing, and some of the little meringues he likes best, and heats up some dumplings Hakkai left in the fridge, coming back with everything on a tray.
Re: after
Her fingers move with practiced care along a patterned handkerchief, embroidering small flowers.
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"I...I didn't realize how absorbed I'd gotten."
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"That's okay. It's good to get absorbed after an echo attack. It's one of the things that can help weaken the echoes."
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Now that she's more aware, she notices the food and picks at the dumplings.
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"It can happen to anyone. Can you tell me more about what you were thinking of?"
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Her fists tighten around her skirts, knuckles white. "I was angry with Monsieur Oscar for it."
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"Has Oscar been damning of you? Or did he bring out other bad memories in that way, too?"
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Father David, who she had chained to the rack. Father David who came to take her away.
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She feels a strange need to defend him against everyone, even herself.
"I want to help when I can."
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He gives her hands a little extra squeeze.
"You were upset, angry, thinking of painful times, but you only meant to help him to his room. Then what happened?"
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He's spent some time looking into the workings of memory, even though normal neuroanatomy probably doesn't even apply to him.
"You said you wanted to hurt him. You were thinking of Malo, in that moment, or both of them?"
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She twists her hands in his again.
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