Closed The Bond
She was overwhelmed by the time they made it to the inn and was in a room. It took her a good hour to cry it out, and she lay curled up with her back against him, had long since shed her outer clothes and her shoes and her hose whenever she was able to do so. She couldn't sleep yet, her mind was not shutting down to give her time to breathe, so she stared off for a time. Karen had finally calmed down though, for the most part, and she knew he was still awake too since Addie had been his patient and he was grieving too, probably wondering if he could have saved poor Addie even though it was too late for her.

"It's not yer fault," she said softly. "Addie," her voice hitched with a hiccup, "was somebody who wasn't believed in much. She'd been having troubles since before she came to the village, and there were a lot of people that treated her like she was a freak... There were a few who befriended her in a way. But nobody else would see she was sufferin'. She told me how she was plagued by all the spirits, and that there were too many angry ones about. She'd tried to protect herself but she didn't do it well enough because she wasn't sure how. She told me she was sick and she thought it was because the spirits were drawing her energy from her, they flocked to her because she could see them and speak to them." She sighed and her hand sought his, "There was nothing ye could do, Harold, it was in God's hands. She was just so tired and couldn't fight anymore."
"I know... I knew the second I saw her." He saw her in his head, the swamp water coming from her mouth. But the image when it switched to him was him at the age of 10. The environment in his head changed and he was back in New Orleans. "Doesn't make it any less harder." A half naked woman tied to a chair moving in a way that would terrify any young boy that was sneaking around where he shouldn't be. The image moved away as he focused on the wall in the Inn.

"Just...don't take that off.." He referenced the locket he had given her. He would have to change out the ingredients every now and then and replace them with something fresh. He reached his hand behind him to try and find her hand.
She squeezed his hand, "I promise," she said, "Not even ta bathe." And she meant it. It should have felt strange to lay against a man in the dark, but it didn't. There were some feelings of conflict of course, but it was mainly because their emotions were high at the moment. But she found comfort by laying with him, strength to get through their shared grief. She rolled then, and wrapped her arm around him, seeking his warmth.

Her face nuzzled against the back of his neck, her face still slightly damp with tracks of saline. She pressed a kiss to the skin there, not really thinking about it as it happened.
He really hadn't expected to experience all that he had in the short amount of time he had been here. As he tried to find a positive in the dark, everything seemed connected. If he hadn't had Karen, he wouldn't have known the girls name. If he hadn't had Karen, he wouldn't have anyone to help him through this. If he hadn't had Karen.... "Try to get some sleep.."
"I've been tryin'," she said, her voice haggard still. "I can't sleep. I can't seem to stop thinkin'." She heaved a sigh before laying on her back and staring up at the ceiling. She wasn't normally one to shift about so much, but the next half an hour saw her shifting restlessly. There was the scent of roses permeating into her nose again. Her belly clenched and she sat up, thinking she saw someone again. She rubbed her eyes and stood, padding toward the window. She looked out and could have sworn she was looking at Addie. Her hand pressed to the glass and she said quietly, "Ye can't sleep either, can ye?" She was talking to the form before it disappeared.
He could smell the same rose smell that was in the office briefly. He just figured it was a perfume she was wearing. "No, I can't" He shifted and turned to face her, but found her sitting up looking at the window. Harold sat up and ran a hand across her back. "Hey..." He sat up as he continued to rub her back. He placed a kiss on her shoulder and then kissed her on the shoulder.
She didn't turn when he put his hand on her back or kissed her shoulder a few times, but stared out at the space where the figure had taken up. Karen watched for a moment to see if she could catch a glimpse again, and she saw nothing. He wouldn't smell roses permeating off of her, but rather just the clean smell of soap and perhaps the subtle hint of what a good kitchen would smell like, cinnamon, other spices, what have you. Karen then moved to curl up in his lap, her head resting on his shoulder but soon tilting so she could look up at him. "I keep smellin' roses."
He placed his arms around her and helped moved her toward him. "That's not you?" He tried to see if he could smell it off her, but he couldn't smell it in that moment. His legs moved so that his legs were on the sides of her leg. He looked at the difference between his leg and hers.
"No," she said, "I don't wear perfume." She sighed and snuggled closer, registering the fact that she felt safe and protected, comforted by Harold. Her eyes closed and she tried to fall asleep but it was hard still. Karen started to cry again, but not like earlier, just a calm and tired cry. She did start thinking about going to the bog to look for clues as to how her friend died. What had happened?
He wrapped his legs around hers the best he could. There was no explanation for the smell, so he kept his mouth closed on the subject. He looked down at her and kissed her forehead. He lifted her up a little and started to move to the side, hoping she would get the hint to lay down with him.
She did lie down, and she simply tucked herself against him, her eyes drifting closed as she finally started to doze off into a fitful sleep. Her head rested right up against his chest and soon, he'd hear her deep breathing.

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