Sabrina Spellman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
signed_sabrina) wrote2019-06-12 02:47 pm
signed_sabrina) wrote2019-06-12 02:47 pm
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Sabrina locks the doors to Leviathan as quickly and carefully as she can manage without fumbling the key. Their hour of sunlight is already fading, and while she currently has all the supplies they'll need for magical defense (subject to an advance on her paycheck), time shouldn't be wasted.
She puts the keys in her coat pocket, giving Charlie a smile before she starts to pull her scarf up again. "I think if we're quick, we'll be fine," she says. All of it is strange and wrong and dangerous, but Sabrina can't help but feel like there's something more. What that could mean to her, about her, she doesn't want to think about.
Taking his hand, she glances up and down the street. It wouldn't be safe for Salem here, so easy to spot against the snow, but she misses his sense of hearing. She thinks she hears something, but the wind chooses that moment to pick up, and she winces, automatically turning into the shelter of Charlie's body for warmth.
She puts the keys in her coat pocket, giving Charlie a smile before she starts to pull her scarf up again. "I think if we're quick, we'll be fine," she says. All of it is strange and wrong and dangerous, but Sabrina can't help but feel like there's something more. What that could mean to her, about her, she doesn't want to think about.
Taking his hand, she glances up and down the street. It wouldn't be safe for Salem here, so easy to spot against the snow, but she misses his sense of hearing. She thinks she hears something, but the wind chooses that moment to pick up, and she winces, automatically turning into the shelter of Charlie's body for warmth.
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"I wouldn't know anything about that," she says, a bit loftily, but smiling now. "The perfectly demure and obedient picture of a good little witch."
There's still so much horror and anger and grief, but she can use it, she thinks.
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It feels good to laugh, in that moment. Nick shakes his head.
"We both know that's not the case, Spellman," says Nick. "I probably know that better than everyone. Look at all the trouble you've gotten me into since I met you."
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She pulls back, and holds out her hand. "I think we ought to bandage it up anyway, if we're heading out to raise a little hell."
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"I think you're probably right," he says, clicking open the box and rummaging until he finds a bandage. He starts to wrap her palm, carefully, taking his time to make sure he gets it right.
"We know that they're not going to be trying to take either of us," he says. "So maybe we'll be able to get in there unnoticed."
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"I think we have a good chance," she says. "I-- the goblin I burned outside, I don't know if it's the memories of what I can do, or if all of this is giving me a boost, but-- that's something that would be more... prophetically inclined power, if you know what I mean. It makes me wonder if I can somehow still reach the power without turning--"
She can't say it.
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Nick finishes methodically bandaging her hand and then he stays on his knees, reaching up to cradle her face with his hands.
"Hey," he says, gently. "Listen to me, okay? Whatever happens here, Spellman, I'm going to be with you. I'm going to be with you, every step of the way. And if you stumble? That's when I'm going to catch you."
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She's knows it's true, after all.
"I believe you. And I believe in us. We're going to get them back, and I'm going to make whatever took them regret it." She leans forward, sealing this promise with a kiss, her fear faded away into determination.