arboreal_priestess | St. Giles Hospital, Baltimore, Saturday Late Afternoon

'Nothing' looked a lot like the glaring white of an active cuckoo's eyes. Verity opened her eyes. The unrelenting whiteness didn't go away, although it did change forms, becoming the overhead lights which were shining directly down into her face. She groaned and tried to block the light with her arm, only to discover that the various tubes connected to her body made that impossible.

They didn't usually connect tubes to dead people. Not unless they were preparing them for embalming, and this wasn't a funeral home. It didn't smell right for that. Verity blinked, abandoning her efforts to cover her face. The glare got a little more manageable as her eyes adjusted. Only a little, though. She blinked again, finally settling for squinting through her eyelashes as she tried to get a handle on where, exactly, she was - other than 'not dead.'

The memory of being shot the first time, by Peter, was still very vivid and real. The memory of being shot the second time, by Margaret, was already fading like a bad dream. "Dammit, Sarah," she muttered, and twisted in the bed enough to look around.

It was a small room, with walls painted a cheery shade of eggshell blue and trimmed in even cheerier yellow. Various machines beeped quietly to themselves, monitoring her vital signs. Verity followed one of the tubes in her arm up to an IV stand, where a bag of clear liquid was presumably responsible for keeping her hydrated. That also explained the weird pinching sensation at her groin; she'd been out for long enough that they'd needed to catheterize her to keep her from wetting the bed. Always the sort of thing a girl wanted to wake up to.

On the plus side, nothing hurt. Maybe that meant that she was flying on morphine, but at the moment, she'd take it. It was better than the alternative. Better still would be having some vague idea of where she was. She started looking around for something that looked like a call button.

Liam	As it turned out, she wouldn't need that call button after all. "Well, that figures," Liam said, sidling in to the room, his face once again his own. "You're unconscious for three days, and the minute you're left alone in the room, that's when you choose to wake up."
Verity	Verity's heart leaped, even as her lungs gave up working to pull air into her body. "Hi," she managed, forcing the word out despite her lack of oxygen. That was enough to get her lungs working again, at least. "You're okay. Are you okay? You're okay." She was babbling. She didn't care. Just seeing him, alive and standing on his own two feet, was more than enough. She half-remembered him dying, bleeding out on the warehouse floor, and-- --and-- --and that had never happened. The memory was shredding like a cobweb even as she tried to look at it. She shuddered all over, trying to wipe the false events out of her mind. "Whoa," she said. Her voice quavered. She hated it for that. "I thought I was protected by that anti-telepathy charm."
Liam	"Turns out Sarah's far more capable than any of us gave her credit for," Liam said softly as he came to stand by Verity's side. "Even Istas- who says she has a natural resistance to Sarah's abilities — got a little confused about what had actually happened, which could have been pretty bad, as it seems that she is not a fan of zombies. And when she saw me and Dominic up and moving about, despite having seen us 'die', she was sure we were both zombies. We very nearly found ourselves being put down as a menace to public health."
Verity	Verity laughed at that. She couldn't help herself. It was a small, strained thing, but she couldn't help it. "Poor Dominic," she said, lips twitching. "The former cryptid hunter, killed by a cryptid, as a cryptid. The irony would have been too much to bear."
Liam	Liam allowed himself a small smile, mostly in response to Verity's own strained laughter. "It wasn't lost on him, believe me," he told her, taking one of her hands in his own. "He'd probably make some crack about you being disappointed that you'd missed it."
Verity	Her laughter died. "No, I wouldn't have been disappointed," she said and suddenly her voice was thick. "I already saw you both die once today." Or yesterday? Or...time was weird when you were unconscious.
Liam	"That's right," Liam said with a sigh. "I was spared having to see you shot down, seeing as I fell first, after all." Watching her collapse in reality had been awful enough. "Uncle Mike informs me that Sarah put together a perfectly rational and believable scenario."
Verity	"What was it?" Verity asked. "I remember bits and details, but I kind of missed the whole...overarching narrative."
Liam	"According to the memories she gave them, Dominic killed Peter when he broke in looking for his made-up 'Price girl.' You were a cocktail waitress that he was cultivating to look like an enemy of the Covenant, so that he could rally the cryptids of Baltimore to his side." Liam leaned over and pressed a kiss against her forehead. "Even when you're not allowed to be an actual representative of your family, you're dangerous."
Verity	"Yeah, well..." Verity sniffled. It was getting hard to keep from crying. Stupid delayed emotional reactions. "I guess some things never change."
Liam	"Guess they don’t," Liam agreed, giving their still-clasped hands a gentle squeeze, sending a feeling of reassurance her way via the Sharing.
Verity	Verity tugged him in, gently, and gave him a hug. "Thank you," she murmured. "And the rest of it?"
Liam	Liam took a moment to just let himself be surrounded by her, alive and vital even if somewhat subdued. "Dominic killed Peter," he repeated. "and tried to kill Margaret as well, but ended up hitting me instead. She took out the two of you, while Robert finished off the others. As for the bodies, a stray bullet hit a gas pipe, and the warehouse went up. All remains were destroyed."
Verity	She closed her eyes. "That's convenient."
Liam	"Mmmhmm," Liam hummed in agreement, "But the important part is they both believe that's what happened." The fingers of his free hand reached to brush a lock of hair from her forehead. "They'll go back to England and give their report to the Covenant. By the time another team can be sent, the cryptids of the city will be ready to disappear as if they’d never existed."
Verity	"Still not a perfect solution," Verity sighed, leaning into his touch. Which would be if the Covenant left and never returned, but if she could find a way to make that happen, she'd be a saint, not a regular woman. "...The dragons can't move."
Liam	"Dominic never told anyone about William, or that the dragon princesses are actually just dragons," Liam informed her. "As far as the Covenant is aware, dragons are extinct and dragon princesses are 'a waste of resources to search for unless the coffers are getting low'" he said, in a passable imitation of Dominic’s accent. "Baltimore will be safe. Margaret and Robert uncovered a conspiracy by one of their own. Dominic says that all the trainees and journeymen will be kept under closer attention for a while," which made sense; it jived with Liam's own experience any time someone with close association with the Taelons had turned out to have Resistance leanings. "I doubt they’ll be sending anyone any time soon."
Verity	"You're certain?" Verity opened her eyes, staring up at him. "That it'll stick?"
Liam	Liam nodded. "Sarah got them good," he promised her. "Remind me never to make her angry," he added with a grimace.
Verity	"Smart man." Verity looked around the room again. "Where am I?"
Angela	"In the recovery ward of St. Giles' Hospital," said a familiar, if unexpected, female voice. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Very-Very."
Verity	"Grandma?" Eyes wide, she turned toward the voice. "Grandma!" The black-haired, blue-eyed woman standing in the doorway smiled. "Hello, sweetheart. How are you feeling?" "Surprisingly good, given the whole 'shot in the gut and lost consciousness' thing and--Grandma! What are you doing here?" Verity glanced to Liam. "Have you met my grandmother?"
Liam	"I have," Liam confirmed as he stood up. "Ma'am," he added, giving Verity's grandmother a nod of greeting.
Angela	"Liam," she said, giving him a nod in return. "Thank you for passing along the message that Very had woken up."
Liam	And Liam knew a dismissal when he heard one, so he pressed another quick kiss to Verity’s forehead before starting towards the door. "Please at least try to take it easy?" he implored of her, ducking out before Verity had a chance to reply.
Angela	Grandma Angela stepped aside to let him pass. Once he was gone, she stepped fully into the room, pausing to close the door behind herself, and started walking toward the bed. "I'm glad you're awake." Angela Baker was Verity's maternal grandmother, and was not related by blood: all three of her children were adopted, since Grandma wasn't willing to spend enough time with a member of her own species to have a biological child. She was old enough to be a grandmother by birth, not just adoption, but she looked like she was barely her eldest daughter's age. Verity had long since resigned herself to the fact that even if she lived to be a grandmother, she wouldn't look nearly as good as either of her grandmothers when she was their age, since Grandma Alice spent most of her time in dimensions where time ran differently, and Grandma Angela wasn't human.
Verity	Verity looked at her face, so grim, so serious, and felt a chill run down her spine. "Grandma," she said. "What are you doing here?" Angela Baker had adopted her eldest daughter because cuckoos could only have children with other cuckoos, and - like all sane individuals - Grandma hated pretty much every cuckoo she'd ever met. She adopted her youngest daughter because Sarah had been just a little girl who'd needed a home, and Angela'd wanted to find out whether cuckoos were really innately sociopathic. Maybe she was here because they finally had the answer.
Angela	"Mike called me once they managed to get you and Sarah both here and stabilized," said Grandma. She pulled a chair from against the wall closer to the bed, sitting down in it. "It was pretty touch and go for the first twenty-four hours." Verity bit her lip. "How bad?" "Your doctor will tell you exactly what the bullet perforated that wasn't supposed to be perforated, and all those other nasty things. All I know is that if you didn't have a Caladrius working on you, you probably wouldn't have lived. Please don't get shot like that again. I don't think my heart could take it." She smiled weakly at her own joke. Cuckoos didn't have hearts. Their circulatory systems were entirely decentralized, controlled by micropulses of muscles throughout the body. Cryptid humor was weird sometimes.
Verity	"Why didn't Uncle Mike call Mom and Dad?"
Angela	"He did, but I was the only family member who could get here before you were out of surgery...and given the circumstances, I was the only one for the job." The Bakers lived in Columbus, Ohio, the same city where Alex was doing his research project on basilisk breeding. Verity frowned. "Did Alex come along? "No. I couldn't reach him when the call first came, and I told him he didn't need to come once we were sure that you were going to live." Her smile was fleeting, and strained. "I didn't see any point in filling this hospital with anxious relatives before we had to. Not when Mike and I are already filling that role, and your young man and various cryptid friends are coming and going at all hours."
Verity	She wasn't mentioning Sarah. Verity's chill intensified. "Grandma, what aren't you telling me?"
Angela	She took a deep breath. When she let it out, she seemed smaller somehow, like she had deflated. "Verity, it's important you understand that I am not angry with you. I'm not angry with any of you. You were in an impossible situation, and it was a choice between doing...what you did...and endangering the whole family. I might have done the same thing, if I were in your position. Sarah made her own choices." Alarm bells were ringing in Verity's head. She struggled to sit up a little straighter. "Where's Sarah?" "She's asleep." Grandma's lips thinned into a hard line. "She's been asleep since I got here. I made her sleep, because it was the only way to make her stop screaming."
Verity	"Oh, God," Verity whispered, slumping against the pillows. "Is she going to be okay?"
Angela	"I'll be honest with you, Verity: I don't know. I don't have any way of knowing. Cuckoo psychology is such a strange thing, and Sarah didn't start out like me."
Verity	Verity swallowed hard, looking at her grandmother as levelly as she could. "You mean Sarah didn't start out knowing right from wrong." Grandma didn't say anything. By human standards, cuckoos were born sociopathic. They got it from their mothers. Literally; when a telepathic sociopath carried a baby for nine months, that baby was going to be born with a radically skewed moral compass. Grandma Angela had born 'normal' by human standards, because she was flawed by cuckoo ones. She was not a receptive telepath. So she hadn't gotten the in-utero conditioning to teach her that other people existed only to be pawns and playthings. Sarah, on the other hand... Grandma adopted her when she was seven years old, after her human foster parents died, and spent years after that carefully removing the deep conditioning Sarah had received from her biological mother. Sarah was a sweet, thoughtful, empathic person. She hadn't started out that way. And there was no way of knowing whether Grandma had managed to get all the little mental land mines out of Sarah's head. That was a large part of why Sarah always arranged to audit courses at schools near one of her cousins. If she ever went back to her cuckoo roots, she wanted one of them close enough to kill her before she did too much damage. Verity's mouth was suddenly dry. She swallowed several times before she managed to ask, "Is there anything I can do?"
Angela	"What she did..." Grandma shook her head. "I couldn't do that if I wanted to. If you'd asked me, I would have told you it wasn't possible. But she managed it, and now she won't stop screaming. She hurt herself, Verity. She hurt herself very badly. Not in a physical way, although that would have been easier. Somewhere inside her mind.” "Like pulling a muscle?" Verity ventured. "Something like that." Grandma sighed, very briefly looking every one of her years. She reached over and patted Verity's hand. "I'm glad you're all right. And I truly don't blame any of you for what happened. But Sarah’s going back to Ohio with me, and I don't know how long it's going to take her to recover."
Verity	Or if she was going to recover. Grandma didn't say that part; she didn't need to. It was written in the tension of her mouth and the defeated slant of her shoulders. "I'm sorry," Verity whispered.
Angela	"Don't be sorry. Just get better." Grandma leaned forward and hugged Verity tight. "You had us all scared, Very-Very, and you know Sarah wouldn't have done it if she didn't love you more than anything."
Verity	"I know," Verity said, and returned the hug as best she could with the tubes sticking out of her arms. "If there's anything I can do..."
Angela	"Just get better," Grandma repeated, and let go, standing. "I don't want to tire you out. You're supposed to be still recovering." "Okay." Verity sighed, sagging deeper into the mattress. "I love you, Grandma." "I love you, too, Very-Very." She leaned in and tapped Verity gently on the forehead. "Now get some rest." Grandma wasn't a receptive telepath, but that didn't mean she couldn't push. Verity was asleep almost before she felt herself getting tired, Grandma gone without Verity realizing it at all.