undergrounds | Every single holiday, a head in a box

Eames is speaking but he is a million miles away, another life-time away, because the moment the head hits the counter, Annie Cresta cannot breathe. She cannot breathe or think or anything but instinctively she brings her knees to her chest on the couch which she sat. From there, her hands are in her hair, over her ears, her eyes shut tight.

She says nothing, just rocks herself slightly, her mouth stretched in an invisible cry, as tears tracked down her cheeks.

The head- that head. It may as well have been her roommate's right there in front of her. She could feel the hot spray of blood over her body, the feel of her stakes in her hands. Blood had gotten into her mouth, she remembered that, and sometimes she could still taste the iron. Around her was pandemonium, but she could only focus on the head.

The books she was paging over on the couch were long forgotten, as was the room around her, in favor of the hallways of District 4.

No, Eames. You can't pay Annie to deal with this. But anyone else is welcome to it. Any takers?

In Sirius's experience, the smell of blood was never a good thing. That went double for today, the way the scent was assaulting his nose. However, he followed it, in the event that there was some way he could help. It wasn't uncommon for fights to break out after all.

A severed head hadn't been what he expected, and while he supposed it was better than a fight, it wasn't that much better. He assumes Faolan's got the situation under control (being the leader and all that), and turns his attention to Annie. Given their last encounter, it might not be the best option, but Sirius figures he has to give it a shot.

"Annie? Is everything alright?"

Maybe it's good she's so silent right now. No one can really notice that Annie had started a flashback. It saves her the humiliation later.

Though make no mistake, there's humiliation in not being noticed, too. A reminder of how alone she often felt.

Lucky for her, perhaps unluckily even, her newest acquaintance at Hillingdon noticed. This was a fact that Annie herself also failed to notice. As far as she was concerned, she was back in that hallway, screams ringing in her ears and warm blood staining her pajama top. She can feel the carpet on her bare feet. She is there and Sinead was dead.

"Can't live without a head," she finally manages to say with a nervous giggle.

"No, you really can't," Sirius agrees, not sure what else to say. Gingerly, he lays a hand on her shoulder.

"But maybe we should get away from the head. C'mon, let's go to the other room."

While he was slightly interested in how this whole thing was going to play out, mostly because it wasn't every day that someone walked into the house with a severed head, he could probably find out from Faolan later. For now, he should probably look after Annie.

There's a pressure on her shoulder, to say nothing for what Sirius was actually saying to her. She opens her unfocused eyes but she still sees the same hallways and rooms that she'd left in Ireland.

Annie whimpers, and slowly turns to face Sirius. She doesn't know him, though she feels like she should. He'll kill her, if he's a vampire. But if he's human? She has to try. Quick as a wink, one of her hands shoots out of her hair and grabs on to his hand. "Help me," she begs him. "They'll kill us next."

Well, not quite human, but most of the time he is.

He jumps at the way she suddenly takes her hand.

"That's what I'm doing, but you're safe. No one's going to kill you. C'mon, let's get out of here."

Safe. She clings to the word and nods frantically. "Away- safe." Away from the head and the blood and everyone dying around her.

Get her away from the head and in a few minutes, she'll be back. Humiliated, but back and lucid.

"Hurry."

"Right, yeah, let's go," he says, gently but urgently leading her away. "It's going to be alright."

The kitchen would probably be the best place to go, maybe get a glass of water or something. That seems like the right thing to do.

She follows him wordlessly, glancing at the head once more before they disappear around the corner.

Arriving in the kitchen, Annie looks around. "Are we safe here?"

"Yes, perfectly safe. Nothing to worry about here," Sirius replies, glancing around before starting to open cupboards, looking for glasses.

"D'you want water or something?"

She shakes her head, which basically means, Sirius, put the kettle on. "be safe. They'll kill us all." And she knows it. She's seen the cruelty of vampires first hand, and now she's here, facing it again.

Facing it again as he's coolly asking her if she wants water. "No time for water."

"Hey, I told you, we're safe. Vampires can't get us here," Sirius lies, hoping it will help. Maybe there's some garlic about that will prove his point (for the time being anyway.)

"Trust me, there's plenty of time."

He doesn't find any garlic but at least glasses are obtained, as well as a kettle and some tea. Tea might help a bit better at time like this.

"Plenty of time," she says, looking around the kitchen. They were safe and he was so calm. Why? And, for that matter, where were they? This place wasn't part of District 4. This place was...

Hillingdon.

It's like a fog's cleared from her head, and she looks around the room with clear eyes, before slowly settling on Sirius.

"Oh god." She winces, wrapping her arms around herself as she starts to deflate.

"Looks like you're back," Sirius says, probably more cheerfully than he needs to be. He's just finished putting the kettle on.

"You okay? I'm making some tea."

Well that's a very good reason to be cheery, truthfully.

But Annie can't be cheerful. Not right now. "I'm so sorry," she tells him. "You shouldn't have seen that- no one should see that. It's-" private. Shameful. Wrong. "-not good."

"It's fine, really," Sirius replies. "I mean, it was just a reaction wasn't it? Have a head literally dropped on us is enough to cause anyone to panic."

Panic might not have been Sirius's reaction, but he had been surprised.

What Annie wants to know is how he can be so casual about something like this. People usually hated it, didn't understand it. But Sirius was, it seemed, extremely different.

She nods. "Yeah. It, ah, happens. I'm not really-" she points at her head vaguely. Everyone thought she was mad.

Sirius nods, catching her meaning as the kettle starts to whistle. He might not have understood it all, but he wasn't about to fall apart in a situation like this.

"D'you want some tea? Might help."

Tea. That's what her grandmother would often make, at times like this. As such, she nods eagerly. "Yes. Please. Something- something to clear my head."

he had to at least be curious. Annie shifts on the stool, unsure where to go. He's so casual. But she can't be.

"I'll make it strong then, shall I?"

He busies himself with the tea, an attempt to distract himself from asking any questions. If given the choice, he's reluctant to say anything about his past, and figures he ought to extend the same courtesy. Exercising tact is more difficult than it looks.

"Regular tea alright? It's all I could fine."

"Yes- please." Stronger the better. If she were the sort to drink, this is where she'd add for some in to the tea. But she's not, so she won't.

Instead, she'll sit quietly, enjoying (enjoying?) the sounds of Sirius preparing tea, and the occasional noise from the other room, looking at the grain on the table.

"I'm, ah- I once uhm-" how to explain? "my roommate." She raises a hand and gestures vaguely at her neck. "I saw it."

"Oh," was all Sirius could really manage as he puts the clues together. "That would explain a bit."

He passes her a mug, tea bag still floating in it, and not sure if he should offer cream or sugar (especially since he doesn't know where to find it).

"Can I ask...how? You seemed to think we were under attack."

Annie has no problem taking her tea unsweetened. She takes the mug with both hands, something to keep her steady.

"It's, ah- you can ask. It's uhm, not exactly private." The heat of the ceramic mug warms her fingers, her palms. "There was an attack. By a nest. On the school I went to. For- for hunters." She swallows, holding the mug tighter. "The Fourth District." And she'd alone survived.

Sirius nods, focusing on his own tea for the moment.

"I'm sorry," he said, not sure what else to offer at this point. "How long ago?"

"Thank you." His acknowledgement was enough, truthfully. And not making a big deal about it, for which he also had her eternal gratitude.

"Four years ago."

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hope this is cool?

totally! I was thinking of marking it as open anyway

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