Scribbles and Drabbles

Oracle 2 Drabble

Written: 2017 - AKA while I was still writing the book.

Seeing the yellow eyes of the dragoon open, if not hazed and confused, reassured John immensely. It took longer than he expected for Maria to regain consciousness. It had been a full month since the incident, and much had changed in that time. John closed the door and let it knock as he moved over to her side, running a hand up along the bar on her hospital bed. She was in his domain, but he had set her up to have proper care while she healed. Ignoring the fact he wanted her in his control, her supernatural side made it hard to keep her in a human hospital.

"Hey, John," Maria's words slurred with a drugged up smile as she beamed at him. Some of her scaled were showing around her eyes and cheekbones. Her body knew she was hurt and was trying to protect her. It caused problems when they were trying to fix the damage she had endured. "You look pretty tonight."

"Do I?" John hummed, running a hand through Maria's hair, wondering what she could see. Pretty was not an adjective used with his forms, glamour, or not. He was born from a battlefield, blood, and bone, not from a grove like many of his kin. The drugged tended to say strange things, however. Maybe she saw something different from the truth. "You look pretty yourself, petal. How are you feeling?"

"I'm not pretty," Maria hummed, his eyes drooping. "I feel strange. My chest is tight." Her hand moved to touch it, but John caught her hand, not wanting her to hurt herself. Her wounds were covered, of course, but the doctors didn't want any pressure on her chest.

"You are alive," John said, keeping his voice soft. Now was not the time to scare or upset her. "That is the important thing."

"Is Tim?" Maria sounded very lucid as she tried to sit up.

"Yes," John nodded, holding her shoulder. It wasn't hard to keep her down. "For now. So it Isaac, both survived that night. It was you we were concerned with," He squeezed her hand. "Your blood is not something I want on my hands, Maria."

Maria smiled at him, the look in her eyes showed she was drugged, but her words were clear. "It would have been my fault, not yours. I miscalculated." She pulled their joined hands to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. The action made John swallow roughly. "I let Jaspar's vision come true. Though, I guess it did for the most. Only, I didn't die," she giggled. Tears ran down her face, and she let go of his hand.

John didn't know where to move his hand or what to say. He pulled a napkin out of his pocket and dried the tears.

"Tell me, John, is that thorn supposed to be so high?"

John frowned. He reached behind her to feel the back of his neck. He wasn't surprised in the least that she knew about the thorn. "It is high," he murmured, feeling how close it was to her nerves. He hadn't put it that high, but they moved something.

Gently he pulled it out, Maria gasping in pain at the sensation. Blood pooled around John's fingers as he reinserted it at the base of her neck without warning. He murmured a few words and stopped the bleeding. Maria didn't need another injury right now. "That's my brave girl," he murmured, kissing her forehead.

"Did you use the thorn on the others?"

"Tim and Isaac, yes. Justice..." John trailed off as he thought of the boy. "His punishment is more inventive. As was Elison's and Jaspar's."

"Can I sleep a little longer?" Maria asked, more tears rolling down her face.

"Of course," John murmured, kissing her forehead. "Rest and heal," he added, his voice slipping into fae, placing a spell around her for protection. There was much he had to ask her about her motives for that night, but for now, he wanted her alive. Plus, she hadn't fought the thorn, just questioned its placement. Her colleagues had fought harder against having it inserted. The thorn was a way he could control them. He sat in the chair and licked the blood of his fingers, humming softly. Things were going to change very soon.