Midnight Manor, Sunday, Dawn

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

Arden drifted on a sea of pain, weaving in and out of consciousness. She was vaguely aware of voices, of people. They were speaking, but their voices were muffled, their words strung together. It was almost like listening to the chorus of Professor Beaker's meeps. It was too much to try to listen or understand, so she didn't. She just drifted in that place of pain. She was getting colder and every time she tried to drift back towards her friends, it got harder and harder. Every attempt exhausted her further. Maybe she should just stop trying. Maybe it would be easier to just let the pain bring her wherever it was trying to get to. Maybe she should--

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The noise seemed to echo and reverberate through the room. Arden startled herself awake, a sharp cry dragged from her at the pain of her body's abrupt twisting. For a second, she longed for the peace in the drifting pain sea, but pushed that thought away.

	Dean had left early in the morning saying something about chasing down a potential cure or treatment for bronze poisoning based on some loud conversation with someone named "Bobby." Kamala had done nothing but fret and jump whenever Arden let out a noise or moved while her parents fussed and worried over Arden. So when the knock came at the door they almost jumped out of their seats to see what was going on.
	Watts visibly flinched at the sound of the knock, and as he straightened up, he was frowning. They had a handful of guests staying here over the weekend, but any of those who weren't already in the room had been told they could come and go as they pleased, without the need for keys or knocking. So then who -? Ah. Right. Likely (hopefully) the people who were to take out the objects currently being used to torture one of their residents.
	Cal didn't jump, but that was just him being annoyingly hard to frazzle. "I'm not expecting any of my friends to show up. Should we check?" he asked, looking ready to carry Arden as needed, like a good friend.
	"Duke," Arden said faintly, struggling to sit up. "Duke and Grimm. Hope. Dawn?" She'd be taking him up on that offer. Considering how badly she was failing at 'sitting,' she probably wasn't in any fit state to walk, even with assistance.
	"Beta, please," Yusuf said reaching out to help Cal with Arden. "Save your strength and let us help you.
	Cal swept Arden into what really needed an additional name besides "bridal hold," being considerate of where the nails were to not apply any undue pressure. "It had better be them, because I've had more than enough of this."
	"You are not the only one," Muneeba declared as she marched down the steps and to the front foyer.
	Arden really wanted to tease, Says you all, I've been having a great time, but she didn't have the energy. Instead, she just let her head flop onto Cal's shoulder and concentrated on not making any worrisome, pathetic noises as they descended the stairs. An urban fantasy heroine lacking the strength to quip. They were truly hitting the crisis point.
	Kamala followed along silently, watching Cal carry her friend and just feeling...helpless. For all the things she'd done and could do, the only thing she could do these last few hours was sit and offer empathy to Arden which did absolutely nothing to help. She came down the steps and looked towards the door waiting to see what would happen next.
	Marc wasn't the "hang around and comfort the hurt person" guy. On the other hand he was the "be nearby in case of bullshit" guy, which was why he was in his office when the knock at the door came. It also meant he was the first at the door and able to open it in response to the knock. He stared when he saw who it was.
	"Mr. Spector," Duke said gravely, sharply dressed in a charcoal gray suit, his eyes red as carnelians. He took his hat off and tucked it under his arm. "Might I come in? We have a slight emergency on our hands."
	"No shit," Marc said. But notably without anything resembling an invite inside. Instead Marc looked up to Arden to see if she wanted Duke to come in.
	Goddess, if it wouldn't light her entire body on fire with new agony, Arden would be making grabby hands at Duke right now. Forget the role he'd played in getting these nails in, the only thing that mattered was getting them out. The best she could do for now though was pick her head up from Cal's shoulder and nod. "Need him," she said, voice barely audible. "Callista told him to. He gets 'em out." She looked at Duke hopefully. "Now?"
	"Ishtar above," Duke muttered. "Callista, you impulsive--" He exhaled slowly. "Not quite yet, Arden," he said with the same formal courtesy he had used with Marc. "It's not quite dawn and we're missing the witness." And speaking of dawn, he glanced to Marc. And then to Midnight. "Will you and your home permit me entry now?"
	Marc stepped out of the way. Midnight picked up on the permission being given even as Marc said, "C'mon in." Had Marc said Duke was welcome? No? Well there was a reason for it.
	And that reason was being cradled in the big redhead's arms. "It's 7:01," he told Arden gently. "Sunrise is at 7:08. Seven more minutes and it will be over." Well, except for the healing. Stuck healing human slow? That would take...yeah, that was math Duke wasn't interested in doing. "...Grimm?" Arden croaked. Duke couldn't repress a scowl, though his face smoothed out less than a second later. "Slept elsewhere last night," he said. "She'll be here. She knows how important this is. She wouldn't--" Whatever Grimm would or wouldn't do remained unsaid. Instead Duke's hand reached out, intending to lay against her forehead a moment, even though he could feel the heat radiating off of her. Arden flinched away with a whimper. Not even intentionally, it just happened. Duke let his hand drop with a sigh

***

	Once again, they were at the mercy of the clock. The seconds ticked by, one after another after another as they waited for Grimm and the sun to show. Tick tick tick tick By five after seven, Duke had lost the placid calm he'd been trying to cultivate and was openly irritated. He'd sent several texts, but they had garnered neither reply nor arrival. 7:08 came and went with no Grimm. The first of the sun's rays crested the horizon, painting the sky with golds and crimsons. 7:10. 7:12. "Duke?" Arden whispered. "I don't know, Arden," he said, watching the front door like a hawk. "A few more minutes. We'll give her a few more minutes."
	Marc wasn't thrilled about any of this. As much as he knew this kind of bullshit needed to run its course, part of him couldn't help but think he did have a connection to a god of the night sky. Maybe it was in Khonshu's power to end the night a little faster. In the meanwhile Marc was still not the guy to offer comfort. That was Steven's gig, and if he showed up he'd be freaking out about not wanting to wait while Arden was in pain. So instead Marc hung back and watched, ready to step in if someone of his particular talents were needed, but otherwise watching.
	Similarly, Watts was incredibly out of his depth here. But despite not being able to actually do anything, leaving wasn't an option either. Not with someone he cared about in pain. So he stayed. And waited.
	Kamala finally snapped. "It's past time! You can see she's suffering!" Kamala shouted. "It's been hours! Just take the nails out? You need a witness? We've got plenty around here!"
	"And the only one whose testimony that would be accepted is the House's," Duke said, traces of his own mounting impatience in his response. "The only thing that you'd get by trying to act as a witness here is you and every person in this house killed as a danger to the Détente. This is Othersider business and therefore none of yours."
	Kamala let out a huff of frustration before having an epiphany. "Wait! I'm descended from a Djinn! That counts right? I can be a witness!" Sure. A Djinn from another reality and technically just a being from an alternate universe and not magical at all. Maybe there was a technicality?
	Congratulations, Kamala. You actually managed to stun Duke into silence for a few moments, while his mouth worked but no noises came out. "...Take your proper djinni form and we can talk," he finally managed to get out. Though looking for loopholes and technicalities was proper djinni behavior so, you know, you at least had a foot in the door.
	Loopholes and technicalities was also proper teenager behavior so Kamala had that in common with djinn as well. And in an instant, hardlight energy surrounded Kamala from head to toe, her height and arms stretching out as she did. She formed a fist and tried to look as intimidating as possible. "I don't know what it's like on your world? But in mine this the result," Kamala said sternly. "My great-grandmother was Djinn and if that counts, let's take those nails out now."
	"A good try but no," Duke said. "But we certainly talk about why you think that being descended from djinni would count as a possible Othersider." Had little Arden been carrying tales? Honestly, at this point, did it even matter?
	7:15. 7:18. 7:23. "I don't want to call her, Arden," Duke said, pulling his phone out. Arden made a small noise, hiding her face beneath her hands. "But we need to get those out before they do any more damage to you. Her temper can fall on Grimm, if it falls on anybody." This time it was Arden's turn to ask for a hold. "Just...few more...minutes," she begged. She wasn't sure she could handle even hearing Callista's voice right now? And what if she decided to come back?"Just...few more. I can. Hold out. Few more." Duke didn't like how waxy pale Arden had gotten, how much she was shivering even now. His thumb hesitated over the call button. Midnight's front door opened up, spilling the full light of the risen sun into foyer. For a moment, the figure was silhouetted against the light, but another few steps inside and it proved to be a tall woman, looking like Lana Del Ray's redhaired twin sister. 7:24. "You all look like mourners at your own funerals."
	"Grimm!" Duke all-but-shouted. "Where in Istar's holy name were you?!" "I had a late night," she said casually, taking a long sip of coffee from a cup with the Perk's label on it. "But I'm here now, you can stop blowing up my phone with threats. Honestly, Duke. Aramaic?" "We have been waiting--" he growled, angry enough that you could almost picture steam coming out from under his collar. ...Or maybe smoke.
	"Oh come on," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm a little late, sure, but what's the worst that could--" "She is dying, Grimm!" Duke snapped, his eyes glowing like coals. He grabbed her by the shoulder and jerked her around to face Arden. "On blessed Ishtar, I swear to you cousin that if she dies for your caffeine fix,, I will tell every person on this forsaken island your true name before I return to Callista and inform her what you've done." "Burn me," Grimm said, genuine shock on her face. Something cold and dark passed over her expression as she took in the sight of Arden before she hid it behind another swig of coffee. Her heels clacked over the floor as she closed the distance. "You look like shit, honeysweet," Grimm told Arden. "Let's get that shit outta you so I can gut my dear cousin with a star iron knife for even making that threat."
	Muneeba stood back from this whole process but the anger in her posture and expression was almost palpable. She hadn't planned on doing anything as all of this situation was out of her control but when Grimm had the audacity to be flippant about this whole situation, Muneeba had enough. She spat at the ground in front of Grimm. "اگر کوئی کاٹنے کی نوبت آئی تو وہ میں ہوں گا، اگر تم نے اس بچے کی مدد نہ کی۔," she muttered. Yusuf reached out to put a restraining arm on his wife. "Not now," he said calmly. Muneeba glared at her husband and went back to silently fuming. [Trans: "If there's going to be any gutting it will be from me if you don't help this child."]
	Grimm just flicked eyes as blue as sapphires towards Muneeba and Yuself and sounding almost bored, retorted, "میرے صبر کا امتحان لیتے رہو، میں کافی دیر توقف کر کے تمہارا دل اور پھر تمہارے شوہر کا جگر کھا لوں گی۔,*" in flawless Urdu. And then snapped her teeth at them. "Are we done here?" [*Keep testing my patience and I will pause long enough to eat your heart and then your husband's liver.]
	There was a scowl on Muneeba's face as she brushed off her husband's arm and started to step forward to have a throw down with this arrogant woman... Only for Kamala to step in front of her. "We're done," she said firmly and looked back at her mother. "Ammi! No!"
	"She looks like shit because you're late," Cal snapped. It was taking everything he had to keep control, and holding Arden's hand for support was keeping his own hands from shaking with rage. "Don't you know how important this is?
	Grimm rolled her eyes. "Calm down, lover-boy," she said. "I'm pretty sure she looked like shit before Duke showed up, too." She looked him up and down, slowly, cataloguing his his features. "Could be worse," was her pronouncement. "Now, you can keep yelling at me, but then we'll be putting off Arden getting healed until I turn your lungs into a pair of mittens. Do you wanna keep being macho at me? Or do you wanna let Arden get the help she needs before she becomes an ex-finch? Choice is yours, cutie-pie." Duke pinched the bridge of his nose. "Grimm. Must you?" "Asserting my alpha status is a very important part of training young men, Duke."
	The good news was, Cal was far less concerned about his alpha status than he was about Arden's well-being, and punching this woman into the sun wouldn't be worth it if he lost Arden in the process. "Fine. Thank you for coming," he said with zero actual gratitude. "She's ready whenever you are."
	Once the posturing was over, Duke also stepped up to Arden. He gave his cousin a look that could peel paint, but instructed Cal "Give her to Grimm." From an inside pocket of his suitcoat, he pulled out a pair of wicked-looking pliers. "She'll be able to hold Arden better when she begins to thrash."
	There weren't words to describe how little Cal wanted to let anyone else touch Arden right now, and he was tempted to argue that he could hold her perfectly well, but arguing would take time Arden didn't have. "Don't hurt her more than you need to." He hoped the "or else" didn't need to be said out loud.
	"Don't worry, handsome, we'll make sure your little broken bird doesn't get any broken-er," Grimm said with saccharine sweetness, though her eyes roved over Arden as she reached out to take her from him. When they'd come down the stairs, Arden had barely been able to keep herself from whimpering with every movement of Cal's body. Now, however, she just lay there, loose-limbed and too still, eyes closed, head lolling. She didn't react at all during the hand-off either, not even to moan. "Should we rouse her?" Grimm asked. "Honestly, at this point, being unconscious is probably a blessing," Duke said. "Witness, call it." Holding Arden in a steady grip that belied her slender frame, Grimm spoke with confidence, voice ringing. "Acting as Witness for the Arbiter of the Carolinas, I avow that as of sunrise, on Sunday, October 6th, whatever fucking year it is, all three of the bronze nails placed in Arden Finch's right arm as part of her rightful punishment for theft, as decreed by Callista, Arbiter of the Carolinas, remain there, untouched. Blah blah probably more fancy words that nobody really gives a fuck about, I said the important bits, just fucking do this, Duke."
	The pliers were already hovering over the head of the first nail and as soon as Grimm said his name, he grasped it and slowly began to pull it out from under her skin. Arden's brief respite into semi-consciousness was abruptly brought to an end, body twisting in new agony. No words came with her, just a deep gasp as her back arched and a long keening noise. "Hold her, Grimm!" Duke barked, the first nail clattering to the ground at his feet. "If she keeps moving, I'm not going to get a good grip on the second one." "Ishtar burn me, she's a wiggly fucking thing--" Grimm grunted, but adjusted her grip. Nothing outwardly changed about her appearance, but suddenly Arden was immobilized. It didn't matter how much she tried to flail, Grimm held her steady.
	Even holding her steady, the second nail did not come out at smoothly as the first. It took several tries, the pliers losing their grip, and skin tore as he finally dragged it out. "Ashes of Ur," Duke breathed as the blood flowed sluggishly down Arden's arms, far thicker and darker than it should have been. "Fuck."
	"What?" This time it was Grimm's turn to snap. "And start on the third while you explain your little epiphany. We don't need the fucking dramatic pauses."
	"The bronze was in there too long," Duke said as he lined up the pliers with the remaining nail. "It's started to leech into her blood. Even with all three nails out, some of the poison will linger in her system."
	"Well...fuck," was Grimm's succinct response. "Will it continue to keep her cut off from Air?" "Let me just check in the manual that she so conveniently came with," Duke retorted, focusing on gently easing the last one free. "I don't...I don't think so?" "Well, that'd good news." "Does have decent odds of killing her instead, though." "You suck at your good news/bad news delivery," she informed him, before looking down at Arden's slack face. "Don't listen to him, honeysweet. This is not how you die, you hear me? Choking on the bronze in your own blood? Absolutely fucking not. That's the kind of pathetic showing we'd expect from elves, not from someone descended from a djinn."
	Duke pulled out the last nail and held it in his bloody fist, waiting for Arden to stir. Instead, she remained limp and unresponsive in Grimm's grasp. Once again, the seconds ticked by, loud and long, as they watched the girl they'd helped raise. She was still breathing but it was fluttery and uneven, and far too shallow. "Duke, do something," Grimm said urgently. "Or it was all for nothing." "Ishtar help me," he muttered, before pressing the newly-removed nail right back onto the bloody, inflamed skin on the inside of her elbow. Grimm's hold on Arden had slackened and she was unprepared when Arden sat up in her arms, gasping for breath... And pulling in Air.
	Duke flung the nail away as he reached for Arden's shoulders to pull her into a hug. "You're okay, little bird, you're going to be okay," he said. "They're out and we can figure out what next--" Which was as far as he got before he was flung to the other side of the room.
	All around Arden was a whirling cyclone of Air, picking up strength and speed with every second. Grimm dropped her with a squeal, trying to scramble away. Arden didn't fall, though, caught by more Air before she'd dropped more than an inch or so. It set her gently down, on her feet, but she barely noticed. Hell, she barely seemed aware of anything. Her eyes were a bright and shining gold, seeming almost to glow, and her curls streamed out behind her as the windstorm picked up in intensity. The beaded curtain in Marc's office began to swing wildly in the wind, several chairs got knocked over, getting shoved to and fro across the floor. Even the couch began to slowly slide about. It was like standing in the wake of a building hurricane, the wind catching everything it could in its grasp, swirling around Arden until it was nearly impossible to see her in the mad whirl of wind and debris.
	Out of pure instinct, Kamala darted in front of her family, throwing up a hard light shield to protect them from the fierce winds and debris. "Get behind me! I'll block as much as I can!" she called out. But even with her powers, she had never faced anything like this. The relentless wind and flying debris chipped away at her shield, bit by bit, faster than she could repair it.
	Arden had demonstrated her powers in front of Kamala once, but had mentioned that she wasn't using her full strength. The terrifying thing was that this probably wasn't the limits of her power, either. Not the beating her body had taken from the bronze, not with her being so close to the edge. No, this was just the spillover, a reflexive, unconscious use of Air after being cut off from it from so long. It was strong, yes, and getting stronger.

***

	As Cal watched the first nail get pulled from Arden's arm, he wasn't surprised to see the way it vibrated in the Force. Any item that had emotional resonance called out to him, blue and shiny, waiting for him to touch them and listen, but he'd been getting better at controlling his skill and avoiding the call unless he needed information. Now, he was torn between being mentally present for Arden, and getting more information about what happened to ensure it never happened again. One split-second decision later, Cal grabbed the nail and let the memories sweep him up with them.
	A woman's face swam into focus. She was petite, with a face that most people would describe as 'sweet,' rather than pretty, and blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. Callista. Her face looked like it was made to smile - in fact, there were hints of dimples in her cheeks even now - but her eyes glittered like hard emeralds and the expression within them was a fury barely short of murderous. "Now, now, Arden," she chided, voice just as hard as her eyes, "I think it's time for you to explain yourself." Beside him was Arden, shorter and slighter, her face still with a child's softness, her legs coltish, seeming almost too long for her body. Fifteen, sixteen, maybe? Certainly no older. She was trembling, and Cal could feel her fear - no. Not just fear. Terror. "I'm s-sorry, Callista," she whispered. "I was, I was, I was just--" "Snooping," Callista supplied. Arden's eyes darted around the room, looking for an exit. There was none, not that he could see. They were in a basement, it looked like, a basement transformed into a dungeon - far more medieval stereotype than anything sexy. More importantly, there were no windows, the only light coming from fluorescent lights blinking in the ceiling, the only air recycled from the the rest of the house. A terrible place for an Elemental, especially a sylph. "Please--please forgive me," she said. "I was--" "Snooping." Arden closed her eyes and nodded. "I was curious. You never tell me anything, so I--" "Need to be taught a lesson," Callista supplied. "Yes, you do." She pulled out a flat bronze nail the length of Cal's middle finger, then a second, and a third. They gleamed dully in the artificial light as she examined one of them as if inspecting it for flaws. "What is my business remains my business, Arden. But you're a smart girl. I have faith this will be the only time you ever need to learn this particular lesson." The terror coming from Arden spiked, turning to panic. "Is that bronze? Callista, no, please, you said it will hurt me. It could kill me. Please don't, Callista, please." Callista set the bronze nails down and followed it up with her shirt. Beneath, she was wearing a sports bra, and the illusion of a kind of curvy roundness created by her shirt was broken. She had the body of a warrior, the kind of compact muscles one gets fighting with melee weapons and drawing a heavy bow. "Darling, you've got more than just bronze to worry about." Her fist swung. Arden cried out in pain and slammed into a wall. Her other fist raised. Arden cried out again. This continued for awhile.
	Cal wouldn't have turned away even if he could. It didn't seem fair to try to block this out when Arden hadn't been given the same choice. Her fear, her pain, and Callista's anger all mixed together in the pit of Cal's stomach, and he inched closer like his presence could fix anything. That was the worst part of his ability: knowing this moment had long since passed, and there was nothing he could do but watch.
	Eventually, Callista stopped, breathing a little heavy, stepping back and grabbing a towel to wipe her fists on. Arden lay gasping on the floor, curled around herself, one arm hanging awkwardly, the other protectively pressed against the side of her ribcage. From behind Callista, a door swung open to reveal another woman, this one gorgeous with ivory skin and midnight hair, voluptuous with curves that threatened to spill over her dress. Jasmine fragrance clung to her as she sauntered in, and she inhaled deeply, taking in the scents of their magic. "You know," she said, voice smoky and sweet, though laced with mild disapproval. "The lesson won't hold if you beat the memory out of her." "She'll remember enough," Callista declared, tossing the towel to Arden. "Clean yourself up," she ordered. Arden let the towel land next to her, letting go of her side with the pained gasp that spoke of broken ribs. She groped for the towel, then began to carefully mop at her face. "Oh, she'll need to get those ribs taped, and that shoulder put back it's socket," the woman said. "Is it over then?" "Not quite," Callista replied. She reached for the first of the bronze nails. "The second half of the lesson." The woman made a moue of discontent. "I'll take my leave, then," she said, turning to glide away. "Try not to break your tool, Callista? We don't have any more from where she came from." "She'll face worse than this before the end," Callista said, sweeping up the other two nails and a sharp knife and going to kneel by Arden. Arden moaned and shrank away, whimpering again, but there was nowhere else to go. "I don't enjoy this, either," Callista told her, taking her dangling arm in her hands. "But you won't have the luxury of mistakes when you're older. Breathe in on three. One...two...three." On three, she shoved the joint of her shoulder back into its socket. Arden screamed, a thin noise, then subsided. "You'll be fine," Callista told her. "Eventually. But this lesson needs to linger. Your arm." "Please, Callista," Arden babbled. "Please, it'll linger, I'll remember, you don't--" "Your arm. Or do you want me to start again?" Arden fell silent, and extended her arm. One by one, Callista inserted the bronze nails beneath the skin of her forearm with surgical precision. This time, when Arden started screaming, it took minutes for her to stop, and only because her voice had given out entirely.
	Those screams were going to be etched into Cal's memory, along with the sickening feeling of bronze burning deep inside skin. How did it take Arden so long to run away? he wondered. How could she not see that she didn't deserve this? Just as quickly, he realized those thoughts weren't right at all. This was all Arden knew. Of course she thought she deserved it. She just wanted the person who was supposed to care for her to treat her well. None of this was ever Arden's fault. Callista, on the other hand... Cal stared at her with the kind of rage he'd spent his whole life burying down. He could see through the lie when she said she didn't enjoy this. He'd met enough people like her, the kind of people who gained pleasure from keeping people beneath them to cling to the false power they could pretend they had. Cal had hated this woman from the moment Arden had first said her name, and it felt deeply right to let that hatred brew stronger.
	It started first as an itch. One beneath her skin, where her fingernails couldn't reach. It was maddening, Arden's nails leaving thin lines of red behind as she tried to alleviate the sensation. It itched like burning, no wait it was burning, the itch was changing into pain now, pain that seemed to intensify with every heartbeat. But somehow, worse than the itching, worse than the pain, she couldn't feel Air. It was cut off from her and she felt lost and disoriented, like she'd lost her sight or her hearing instead. There was just nothing. No comforting breeze, no sense of dancing molecules. The room temperature was no longer adjusting to her, leaving her suddenly chilled. Was she shivering because she was cold? Or because of the effects of the poison in her arm? Was she going into shock? She'd touched bronze before, brushed against it; hell, Grimm had even whacked her with a bronze blackjack once during training. And it had itched, and then had hurt, but the brief touch had only made her connection stutter, not fail completely. She'd been feeling Air since she was twelve and now to have it gone made it feel like it had sucked all the oxygen out of the room with it. She felt her throat tighten, her chest began hurting. "Callista," she gasped. "Callista, I can't breathe. Please, Callista, I can't--" "You're fine, Arden," Callisa said. "Despite your dramatics, there's plenty of air in here." "No, please, Callista, I can't." She began coughing, doubling over as the wracking spasms hurt her busted ribs and stole her breath...again? More? Her vision started going swimmy, sparkles dancing across her vision. "Callista, I--" She didn't finish the sentence. She blacked out instead. Only to wake up a small eternity later as a cold bucket of water was dumped over her. "Sorry, darling one," Callista said. "You need to be awake for this to make sure the punishment sticks." Each minute was slower than the one that preceded it. Eventually Arden just surrendered to the pain. It was everywhere, everything, nothing outside or beyond it. Her body hurt, from the bronze, from the beating, why fight against pain when it was just so much bigger than you? She stopped whimpering, stopped crying, just kind of sagged against the wall like a broken doll while every heartbeat brought fresh agony. Eventually, Callista made her get up. Walk to her room even though she was bleary and staggered like a drunkard. She was pretty sure she threw up once, but it wasn't the pain so she barely paid attention. Six hours passed. Six hours and finally Callista returned with a pair of thin-nosed pliers. "Time's up," she announced. "Arm out." It took several minutes for Arden's brain and body to comply and eventually, Callista grabbed her wrist and yanked. "Never forget, Arden. Bronze disrupts your magic. Too much or too long, and it can sever your magic entirely. These are small enough and targeted enough that they won't - the poison that accumulates in your blood would probably kill you first." She used the pliers to grasp the end of one of the nails and pull. New pain burst like fireworks behind Arden's eyelids, body arching. "But it's always a possibility, so you have to be careful. Elves won't think twice before collaring and binding you in bronze. And you don't ever want to go through this again, do you?" Arden nodded weakly. Then shook her head. She was barely comprehending what Callista was saying, going on tone alone. "There," Callista said as she pulled out the last nail. This time when Arden whimpered it was in relief. She was still in pain, but she could feel Air again. It raced over oversensitized nerve endings, hurt her lungs to breathe, but it was so good and familiar and right, she could have sobbed if she'd had any tears left. "Th-thank you," she moaned. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." "Mmm, maybe don't thank me quite yet," Callista said. "You got your Air back, but bronze fucks up your healing, too. You'll be healing human slow for the next few days, if not weeks. Those bruises are gonna linger." She stood up, the motion jostling Arden enough to bring a new surge of pain, and went to the door. "Don't ever forget this, Arden," she said, her voice cold and forbidding. "Next time it will be longer. Don't try me." The door closed behind her and with it, the vision faded.
	As Cal came out of the vision, he wavered on his feet a little before steadying and catching himself to stay upright. Mentally, he felt like he'd been lost for hours, but glancing over and seeing Grimm and Duke still working let him know only moments had passed. It was one of the worst parts of his psychometry, along with the headache that accompanied such a long vision. He approached where Duke was observing and quietly dropped the nail back at his feet. He didn't know if he should bring any of it up with Arden - why would she want to relive something so horrific? - but it wouldn't even be a choice if she didn't make it through this.

***

	The windstorm kept growing and growing, wind spinning faster, blowing harder. It was getting impossible to stand, getting hard to breathe normally. The smaller chairs had been fully caught up in the wind, circling the room from several feet in the air, the couch followed their airborne dance like an upholstered tumbleweed. The doors to Marc's office and the All-Purpose room slammed in in their jambs, hinges squealing. Even the great chandelier in the center of the entrance hall swung about madly. For another moment, it was just Arden at the center of the windstorm, also floating a little, eyes wide open and blazing like molten gold, but without really seeing anything. And then she collapsed like a marionette with cut strings and the storm collapsed with her. The chairs clattered to the ground and the couch rolled over once more before coming to a rest upside down. One minute the wind was relentlessly buffeting the room and everyone in it, the next minute there was only stillness and silence and a huddled lump in the center of the foyer.
	The harder the wind blew, the more Cal pushed, guiding himself with the Force to try to reach Arden. He could feel BD-1's hold loosening, and shrugged his shoulders back in encouragement. "BD, let go! It'll be okay." BD gave a worried beep, but let Cal go, spinning in the wind with as graceful of a landing as any droid could manage. Cal stepped closer, heedless of the wind beating against him, knowing it was nothing compared to the pain Arden had been in. "Arden! Hold on, please!" As the wind died, all his momentum shot him forward, and Cal landed next to Arden in the foyer. He wasted no time in scooping her up in his arms, checking her over and hugging her against his chest as he felt her heart beat against his.
	Cal wasn’t the only one rushing to Arden’s side. The Khan family surged forward, too, concern etched on their faces. In fact, Muneeba and Yusuf might have tried to push past Cal if Kamala hadn’t stepped in front of them with a firm look. Though Muneeba and Yusuf frowned, they held back, watching as Cal cradled Arden. "Is she okay?" Muneeba asked, trying to peer around Kamala, her voice tight with worry.
	There was a moment where Cal wasn't sure how to answer that question. Would she be okay after everything that happened? Would she fully recover? But those weren't issues for Kamala's family to have to deal with. The important thing was she was breathing and warm and no one from her world was ever going to lay a hand on her again. It's possible Arden wasn't the only one whose heart was racing. "She's breathing. I need to get her back to bed," he said.
	"Yes, of course," Yusuf immediately agreed and took Muneeba by the arm. "Let's go clean up her room and get it settled so she can be comfortable." Muneeba frowned and sent a stink eye in Grimm's general direction. "Fine," she practically spat out of her mouth but turned and headed to the room for Arden's sake with Yusuf following after her.
	Kamala watched her parents go before coming towards Cal and putting her hand on his shoulder. "She's going to be okay," she said with an assurance in her voice she didn't quite feel herself yet. And if there was any doubt that Kamala was Muneeba's daughter she shot a glare back at Duke and Grimm. "She better be."
	"Wait," Duke said, his voice resonant. "She should not be going back into her room. She needs to be outside. Surrounded by as much fresh air as she can be. She's better, with most of the bronze out, but she's hardly out of the woods yet. Do none of you understand?" "Well, she wasn't supposed to say anything," Grimm pointed out, pouting at the coffee that was now liberally spattered about the entryway. He gave her a glare for being unhelpful, but his cousin would be his cousin. "Unless you find a way to flush out the lingering bronze in her system, she won't be healed for months, and that's assuming you do everything else right. And the first step is making sure she's has access to as much fresh air as possible. An open window isn't enough. She needs to be surrounded."
	Cal curled himself around Arden a little more at the suggestion that he didn't understand, that he didn't know what she needed. "The roof then. She likes the roof, it's open and high up and..." He glanced to Kamala. "Can you guys get her bedding and bring it up? Blankets and her pillow, whatever we can do to make sure she's comfortable."
	"I'll take care of it," Kamala promised, already heading for the steps as she shot a glare back at Duke. "I'm more than happy to do anything that will undo the damage others did to her."
	Duke looked impassively back at her. "Ask Arden if she thinks three more years of freedom is worth it," he suggested. "If wiping out the debt she owed for theft was worth it." "We could always bring her back to North Carolina with us if she doesn't think it is," Grimm said. Like a helper.
	Cal got to his feet, pulling Arden safely into his arms, and glared daggers at Grimm. "She is not going back to North Carolina. She's going to the roof, and she's staying here, and anyone who thinks differently is going to have to go through me. Do we have an understanding?"
	"Oh don't worry, hot stuff, it's been noted," Grimm assured him. "And I'll be sure to pass the message along."
	Cal would love to be a fly on the wall when that message was passed on, but he was going to have to settle for getting Arden upstairs safely. The rude beep from BD-1 as he headed up the stairs would have to suffice.

[Warning for trauma, extreme injury, depiction of abuse to a minor, and blood. Please know that in Cal's telemetry thread ("In a Small Pocket of Time"), there are descriptions of on-screen physical abuse. This whole but can be avoided by clicking the link at the end of the section, or clicking on the "Back in the Present" cut tag.

Once again, preplayed with the terrific hasaknightjob, moreofaponchoguy, pocketpretzels, and slothbabyproductions and not_montalban! Radio is free to mention some kind of disturbance, but all details NFB please.]

Comments

Re: Any Last Words?

[callmebymyname]

Grimm really thought you should let the vampires handle it.

Duke hesitated. Looked at Grimm. Sighed. "My blood, yes."

More than he'd wanted to say, but it didn't necessarily explain how or why and he was going to hold it to that.

Moving quickly on. "She is going to have a magic hangover. Give her alcohol for it. The older the alcohol, the better - that is, a glass of wine will do her better than some kind of cocktail invented yesterday. Have her drink it slowly and stop as soon as the headache fades. Too much may have other effects."

Where was that warning years ago, Duke, huh? The Arden of three weeks ago would love to know that.

"It will probably linger for a few days. A glass of wine or some strong spirit."

He glanced at Grimm. "Anything else you can think of?"

Grimm shrugged. "This is a House, right? If she starts sleep-casting again, make sure she doesn't accidentally throw herself off the roof and break her damn neck."

Re: Any Last Words?

[hasaknightjob]

"Midnight'll keep her safe," Marc said. Which had more meaning behind it than simply making sure Arden didn't fall off a roof. Marc may have had some thoughts about sending the people hurting Arden through some of the worst Midnight could do given how much agony Arden had been in.

"If she needs it, we'll get you," Marc said to Duke as far as the blood went. "We'll take care of her."

That one was both a promise and a small acknowledgement that Duke might give a shit about Arden being taken care of at all.

Re: Any Last Words?

[callmebymyname]

He did. Not all of his reasons for caring for her were good, but he did care.

Grimm...well, we weren't ready to get into Grimm's deal yet.

Duke inclined his head. "Then I will consider Grimm's portion of the debt paid," he said. "And unless anyone else has need of me in a different thread probs I believe we shall be on our way."

Re: Any Last Words?

[hasaknightjob]

"Speedy whatever you do home," Marc said.

So no forthcoming offers to sit and have a cup of coffee before they hit the road, no.

Re: Any Last Words?

[callmebymyname]

Yeah, that would be no from him, dawg.

Grimm, giving Marc one more look like there was nothing she'd like to do more than nick his lungs and watch him choke on his own blood, stalked out of the house. Duke followed, gliding along like a dark shadow.

This...sure had been a wholeass day and it wasn't even eight in the morning.