Chapter 38: Chapter 17.1 – Bones~ ‘Cause there’s magic in my bones. I-I-I got this feeling in my soul

*Bones by Imagine Dragons 

Enjoy :) 

 

Timothy sat on a plain bed, in the hospital wing of the Heroes’ Headquarters in his small room. He had a book about spells opening in his hands, his eyes reading diligently, but his mind wandering to the event that took place. His mind played over and over again of him being thrown to the wall, his bones shaking through him as he felt some of them break. He remembered letting his magic course through him in time to not be permanently damaged, although Michael could've probably healed anything.

He recalled magic, strange, but beautiful electrifying magic through the air in a wonderful, but awful feel. Magic rippled through Timothy's bones and soul as he surged his magic to try to heal and get himself up to get to Pitch.

The sun seemed duller than yesterday and the sky was dark as if a storm was coming. Dark heavy clouds overcast the usual bright blue sky and made the early morning seem long.

The young warlock had presents laid out on a table across from him, a television hooked above the table. News flashed quickly throughout the small world of what happened, and many magical people sent him presents for the kind bravery he gave and was alive at the hands of Pitch. He didn’t feel much like a hero sitting gloomily on his bed.

Bouquet of flowers held tiny cards of his name and opened gifts filled with chocolate and candy, and spell books of gratitude...of which he wasn’t sure why people were praising him for not stopping Pitch. He knew they were happy he was alive, but the cards and gifts seemed too much as if they had only heard the news he stood against Pitch, but didn’t catch him.

Timothy put his spell book on his lap, which someone gifted him, as he heard rain lightly tap against the window. Thunder roared in the distance.

There was a soft knock and Timothy was hoping it was a nurse telling him he could go. Not only the reason he was in this small white room because Michael told him he needed to be rested and tended to, but he suspected as much that Michael wanted him to be watched for a while—granted, Timothy was the last person to have seen Pitch before he made that hellish escape.

He hoped that Michael had already watched the video that the camera in the prison room told them.

It wasn’t a nurse or an angel, but Sara poked her head in, her wavy hair spilling across her face, “Can I come in?”

Timothy shrugged, “I see why not.” As she walked with black leather pants fitting nicely on her feminine curves and a white blouse, the warlock was surprised to see some color on her skin, a stunning glow of a rosy beige. “You look nice today.” He noted she was walking barefoot. He guessed since she lived here she was comfortable enough to do so and knew every inch of this place.

Sara did a shy smile and said, “You doing okay, Timothy?” She went over to his bed, gazing at his presents.

“Yep,” said Timothy, “Just...still can’t believe all of this,” he answered with a dreaded sigh. “You can have some of my chocolate or candy, people gave me so much to feed all the warlocks in the world.”

Sara cocked her head at that idea, “I think my father would like that idea.” She grabbed a heresy's bar, unwrapping it as she came next to Timothy, “I’m glad you are doing good.”

Timothy scooted over, looking uglier by the second, seeing her clean self, as he looked like he hadn’t showered in a decade. He wore a blue buttoned-up shirt and his black trench coat was hung over a chair. His black pants needed desperate ironing as they looked like a thousand-year-old mortal, “Hey, do you know if I can go yet? This room is getting me claustrophobia.”

Sara giggled, “Don’t worry, I’ve been here for about five hours.”

Timothy stared at her in wonder, “Why?”

Sara muttered, sitting down and taking a snap of the chocolate bar between her pearls-like teeth, “Because Michael wanted to give me some blood. Took damn forever, and him making phone calls to the Seers and everyone on earth, it was tiring and long.”

“Why did you need blood?” asked Timothy, although he wasn’t surprised much, she did look like she needed it.

Sara cast her eyes away and lowered her head, it was transparent she didn’t want to answer this question. She hugged herself, “Just have bad blood counts I guess,” she chuckled lightly, taking another bite into the chocolate bar, “Thanks for the heresy's bar.” Her eyes flickered up as she asked, “Why do people always use different terms for witches, wizards, and warlocks? I never understood that.”

Timothy knew this was a complete change of subject on purpose, but her question seemed genuine, “Witches, are girls, and wizards are boys. Warlocks are the people who are more powerful than witches and wizards and can be used for a woman or man. What makes warlocks more powerful than wizards and witches you may be asking?” he grinned, “It’s stupid, and not really how powerful a warlock can be, but if they have unique eyes, like cat eyes, different colors of eyes, rainbow eyes, lavender eyes, or my eyes, different and special. This makes them a warlock. It’s some weird genetic trait that comes only in warlocks. That’s really the difference between those three words. It’s silly if you ask me.”

“Oh,” Sara said in interest, “That is strange.”

“May I ask a personal question?”

Sara had already eaten half the bar and nodded, “Sure.” She was squeezing her arms around her as if she was cold.

Timothy asked carefully, “Are you a magical creature, Sara?”

Sara’s eyes widened for a second and snapped her gaze down. Magical creature meant if she was one of those supernatural beings: werewolf, witch, shapeshifter, vampire, wendigo, and so forth. Demons and angels counted as spiritual beings, “I’m a human.”

Timothy raised an eyebrow, his emerald eyes shining. He highly doubted that was true from waiting long four seconds to hear that answer, “Just a human?”

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Sara exasperated, “I can’t tell you, I’m sorry.” She rose up unexpectedly, her shoulders tensing up, "Glad you feel better.”

Timothy grasped her hand, “Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you like that. I was joking.”

Sara turned at him and smiled weakly, “It’s fine. I’m surprised father didn’t tell you.” She cleared her throat as if to clear away the question he asked, “Are you going to stay here and help us with Pitch?”

“If Michael wants me to, I will,” said Timothy.

Sara grabbed gummy bears from his stack and sat back down, “What some?” She opened the box eagerly, “These use to be my favorite. When I and Dad would go on the trip to France to see the Seers, he would buy me some at gas stations we went to.” She smiled at the memory, popping a red gummy bear in her mouth, “I miss those times. Dad would take a week off so we could spend some time together.”

Timothy wanted to ask why they stopped from the look she gave him.

Fortunately, she went on, “On my twelfth birthday, Dad surprised me on a mission we were going on together. We were on the lookout for a loose hellhound and capture it, study it, and then decide what to do with it.” She frowned, “I don’t know why I’m ranting.”

Timothy replied, “I’m here. You can talk to me about it.”

Sara continued. The rain had subsided a little and peaks of light were coming from the sky somewhere, “We went to get some gas, and I went off to get something and when I came back, Father was in a hurry. He had gotten me gummy bears, and some other things. He shoved me in the car and drove off. We never went on a mission again.” She sniffed, “I thought I did something, but he told me I didn’t...but I don’t know.” She sighed and she put her face on her raised knees, hugging them as she looked at Timothy, “I just don’t know.”

Timothy responded, “It probably wasn’t your fault. It seemed he was frightened about something.”

Sara nodded, “Yeah, but the strangest thing when he drove off, was that he gave me such a strange look. Like he was going to lose me or something. I had given up asking him what happened.”

Timothy put his legs over the bed, “Sara, it’s okay. Whatever happened that day, I’m sure whatever Michael had on his mind, he wanted to protect you.” He gave out a confused look for a second and then asked in wonder, “Isn’t it today your birthday?”

Sara glanced up at him, “Yeah.” She hugged herself again.

Timothy grinned, “You should’ve told me! Happy birthday, Sara.”

Sara blushed, “You are too nice, Mr. Watt.” The rays of the sun beamed down at her hair, making it look like she was having a deformed halo over her head, but nevertheless gorgeous. Then the ray moved out from the window, nearly blinding Timothy’s eyes, although making his eyes look like precious emerald gems. He left his bed and retrieved his trench coat, slipping it on. “I’m getting out of here and taking a shower.” He glanced at his presents, “I don’t know what to do with all this.”

Sara giggled as she saw the mountain of gifts laid out for him, “You must be a hero.”

Timothy pouted, “I didn’t stop Pitch though.”

“You survived him and you are safe, that’s all it matters,” answered Sara, “I’ll get some angels to bring the stuff in your room.”

“Thanks,” Timothy walked over to the door and opened the door, “My lady.”

Sara giggled lightly again, “So kind, sir.” She stepped out of the corridor of the empty hallway, “I swear this place could be in a horror movie sometimes. It’s so empty.”

Timothy raised his eyes at her, “I love horror movies.” He asked although it wasn’t really a horror movie at all. “Ever watched Rocky Horror Picture Show?” They moved down the silent hallway, his black laced-up boots clumping softly on the floor.

Sara shook her head, “I don’t think so. Is it a good horror movie?”

Timothy scoffed and gave a disbelieving look, “You never watched that movie?” He gasped in a dramatic way, “Don’t tell me your father makes you watch clean movies?”

Sara burst into laughter, “Oh no, I watch rated R movies all the time.”

“Then, as my present to you, Sara, I am going to show you Rocky Horror Picture Show. I think you would love it.”

Sara thought if she had time to watch a movie with him, but she let her anxiety aside of excising and training, “Take a shower. I’ll get the angels to move your stuff in your room, get some snacks, and we can be off watching it!” Her eyes danced in delight to get her mind off of Pitch and her worried father. And someone to spend time with someone for the first time in a while.

Timothy grinned at her, looking down at her. As they passed the doors leading out of the hospital wing, he swore by the glint of the light, he saw some golden color in her hair.

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