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Colin spent much of his wednesday investigating the possible rape sites. He was caught a little by surprise when Sylvia called him. He hoped nothing else happened. Sylvia had slept for some hours, and took Colin up on his offer to talk, but she wanted to meet him.
Colin explained where he was, and that he couldn't exactly drop by, but she insisted, so he offered to wait for her back at the train station. There was a little park nearby and what looked like a little pub that promised real italian cappuccino.

A little sleep has evened out Sylvia's mood, leaving her calm and quiet in a two-shots-of-Dimetapp way.  She's had time to smooth her purple hair into a clean braid and to put on an outfit devoid of Mitzi's hand-stitched frippery.  "Did you learn anything?" she asks, bringing a tiny cup of caffè latte to her lips.

"Not yet. I'm checking the buildings where those abandoned buildings, hoping I'll be able to pick up something about the third girl." Colin says.

"Do you feel any better now?"

"I'll help you," she offers.  "I'd like to find that girl.  She might be as messed up as the others."


Sylvia nods.  "Everything's clearer.  I had this moment of epiphany."  She looks at him.  "What about you?  Still hanging on your cross?"

Colin hesitates.

"I appreciate that, but I don't want what happened at the burnt building happen again. I don't want you to feel it again. If I can't control it, maybe you'd better stay clear of me."

"But even after the vision it took some work to find Darla. You'd be welcome to help me then." he offers.


"Hanging on my cross?"
He sounds confused.

"I can handle it," she says.  There's self-assurance in her voice.  "You realize, right, that you're being awfully condescending when you try to protect us girls from that kind of thing?"


"Are you still suffering like a good saint?  Are you still trying to martyr yourself in order to save the souls of us innocents?  I'm just asking if you're still torturing yourself and, if you are, if you're torturing yourself for the right reasons."

"Condescending? I felt that thing, and I'm not eager to feel it again, but I see no reason for two to go through that when it's utterly useless. And it's not you girls, I told the same to Chris, when he offered to come too."


Colin frowns. Sylvia's got something to vent on him. He's been through it before. He can take it, but he doesn't like it.

"I'm not torturing myself. Why do you say that?"

"What makes you think it's useless?"


"I know you, Colin.  You're always torturing yourself about something."  She's purposefully blunt, but the expression on her face is gentle.  "I wanted to know why you thought you should protect us--to exclude us, really--from the confrontation with Leland.  Why'd you do it?"

"How did it help last time?"



"I've been in Samantha's mind. I saw what it did to her. She felt like giving up on the whole world not to have to deal with it. What if it was stronger than us? And it was, he nearly killed us. I couldn't accept the risk of anything like that happening to one of you."

He pauses for a moment.

"It's my job. I've been given the Eye to deal with it, and with things like that. It shouldn't have been allowed in this world. When things happen that shouldn't, it's my job to try to set them right. Sometimes to prevent they happen."

He looks at her.

"Does your arm still hurt?"

"It helped in that we could all see what happened.  Did anyone complain?  Did any of us, especially us girls, tell you you shouldn't have done it?"


"All by yourself?  Even Jesus had apostles."


She looks at the shiny splatter of fading scars on her arm from their encounter with Fern.  "No, not really."  Then a moment of girlish uncertainty crosses her expression.  "Is it ugly?  Am I deformed?  It's easy to get used to your own scars."

"You're telling me that if I knew what was about to happen, and explained it to you, you would have chosen to go through it?"


"Yeah, and if I remember it correctly, most of them died some awful and painful death. That's a flawed comparison anyway. I'm no Jesus. And you should stop calling me saint and things like that."

"Besides, I didn't go alone. I never go alone when I think I could need help. Sometimes, there are things I should do alone, though.


"Nothing like that. Let me see it."

He takes her arm and runs his hand over the marks that the acid left. His hand is really warm.

Can I heal her and make her scars go away, blackbird?

She nods solemnly.  "If you could keep someone from all pain and sorrow, they might be happy, but they'd never have lived."  She pauses.  "Which is not to say you shouldn't push me out of the path of a Mack truck or anything, but I learned something from that girl and from what you shared.  I learned that this isn't fun and games.  I learned that we're not here to gratify ourselves and quit when we get bored.  We're here to help the helpless."


"Don't worry.  I know you're no saint.  That's what scares me."


She sighs.  "If you feel you have to, sure.  I'm just saying, you don't have to shield my delicate sensibilities or anything."

"Do I scare you?" he says, looking at her face. It's obvious that it's an important question for him, and he's studying her answer.

"You don't scare me," she says.  "It's the idea that you, Donnie, and, from what I hear, Sarah have been recruited by freaky extradimensional entities who seem to want to use you like chessmen.  They tell you it's about destiny, and that must be great, huh?  To know that you're destined to represent the unseen powers of the world.  But what makes them any different from the demons the witches summoned into Rob or the demon Leland invoked?  Do you just assume they're trustworthy?  Do you assume they're good?"

"I can't really speak for Donnie or Sarah, they've got different deals. The blackbird is not an extradimensional entity. He's been a part of this world for a long time. What makes him different form a demon? For starters, he doesn't feed on me. He doesn't really ask me anything either, he's a guide. And a friend. He tells me what he can, but he doesn't understand humans very well. And I'm no pawn of him. He's the one stuck with me. I'm the one that makes choices. I'm the one that decides how to use my power. I'm the one that could abuse it. That's why I made sure..."

He shakes his head.

"Never mind. I don't have to assume anything about him. He's what he is. And it's not about destiny either. I've been given something, and I'm trying my best to do something good with it. Isn't that what you do, too? Don't you assume the man you asked for help is trustworthy or good?"

No, she needs to have the marks in her life to feel happy.

"No, I really can't assume that.  I have to question everything he says.  I mean, I think he's okay, but he admits to amorality."  She pauses, and narrows her eyes as she homes in on a fine point.  "I've been spending time with him, and with Logan, and what I've learned is that you can't just trust people.  You can't just say, 'I'm going to trust you,' and turn it on like that.  Trust comes gradually, and that's why the girls were so pissed off with you.  You broke that.  We were starting to trust each other, and now we can't.

"The only thing you can promise," she says, "is honesty.  And I'm honestly telling you that I don't trust you to decide that I need to be protected from something.  I want to trust you.  I need to trust you if we're going to be going on with this."  She looks at him.  "I sometimes get the feeling you think it's part of your duty to make ethical decisions for us.  That's dangerous."

Colin seems sad for a moment, and he lets her arm go.

He lets her speak, then turns back a somewhat cold stare to her.

"So trust comes gradually, and can't be turned on at will? Then why should I have trusted you? After all, if we're just starting to trust each other, I should have come up with 'Oh, by the way, yesterday I killed a boy'? Or even better 'I can't come out on monday, it's my demon-hunting evening'? Don't you think that sometimes we need some time to deal with things on our own before we can trust others with them?

And do you know how you sound like? You sound like me when I was pissed that you, Kel and Sammy went out patrolling on your own. If you do it it's fine, and if I do it it isn't?

I have no idea what you mean by saying I take ethical decisions for you. Like I could take any kind of decision for you all."

"What makes you think this was all about you?  What makes you think the rest of us didn't care about these girls, especially after what we witnessed?  It's not all about you, Colin.  And that's what I worry about sometimes.  You, this blackbird, your destiny, your purpose.  It would be so easy--wouldn't it?--to presume that it is all about you.

"You had information on the crime, information we all could have used.  It wasn't your right to keep it a secret."


"That feels like five years ago."  She seems to look into the past with older eyes.  "Look, I'm just saying that I saw something this morning.  I saw that we've been proceeding on assumptions, assumptions that we all know each other, that we all trust each other, that we should all be working together.  All I know that's real is that I need you to be honest with me.  And I'll be honest with you.  And everything else is out of our hands--trust, friendship, all the things we assumed without question.

"It's dangerous, doing what we do.  If the enemy sees us falling apart, he'll start picking us off one by one."


"You were talking about forgiving the witches, weren't you?  You were talking about healing them?"  She looks like the sharp edge of unease is slicing into the lining of her stomach.  "They're long gone, out of our hands, but if you had brought them back, you'd have done so without taking into consideration the threat they would pose to us all."

"Kel found the second girl. And he brought me to meet her at Mentano. He knew who they were, even before me. I told Donnie. Then I told Sarah. Apparently Dave had known all along.

So what you're saying is that it wasn't my right to keep it a secret from you? Who is this all about? Me or you?"


"I trust you. It's because I trust you that I don't need you to tell me everything, that I didn't go at Mentano to pick some vibes off this guy. Because I trust your judgment, I trust you to do the right thing. If you all felt this way about me, it's because you didn't really trust me, and then I didn't break anything.
You want me to tell you everything? Fine, I will. But I'm not going to ask your permission to do what I think I should do."


"Should a doctor work less to save a criminal's life than to save a children? If I had been able to bring them back from a sort of death no one deserves, it would have been so they could face justice, and the consequences of what they've done. But it's nice of you to think I'd be so stupid."

Sylvia looks flummoxed.  "Oh, I see," she says flatly.  "It wasn't just you, Donnie, and Kel.  It was Sarah and Dave, too."  She sighs and shakes her head.  "Never mind, then."  The look that crosses her face is one of consternation and piercing evaluation."  She has the sudden feeling she's in the wrong place, talking to the wrong person, like she's stumbled into her own presumptions.  For whatever twisted reason she wishes she were with Logan, or Smith.


"We were waiting for justice, weren't we?  In an ideal world the police would have been able to arrest the witches the first time they messed with you.  Didn't happen.  And that's what left them to us and to the karmic punishment of that Meno.  I don't know why you think their facing justice would be any more effective the second time around."  The words are coming out of her mouth, but something in her expression has disengaged itself from the conversation.  It's now purely academic.

"I have to go," she says.  She looks at him, almost says something, and then seems to change her mind.  She gets up from the table.

"Just Donnie, Kel and I went to face Leland. But you were talking about withholding information. It's not like I threatened Donnie and Kel into not telling you. They agreed with me that it would have been better dealt with on our own.
Kel found out who they were, and I found out their addresses. I knew that there was something strange about Leland. And I asked Donnie for help because he's the one that knows all things magic.
I didn't know he was a demon at the time. I didn't expect what happened. Can you imagine what I felt when he turned to ashes? When the PCD told his mom, and I saw her cry? Do you remember how distraught I was the morning after? I didn't really feel like talking about it.
I told Sarah because... well, I feel different about her. It helped me. And I probably would have told you all the morning after, but that was when Megan nearly attacked me, and I couldn't figure out how to talk about it after that. But I would have told you. I just wasn't ready. I'm sorry you all had to find out about it this way. I know it makes me look bad, but I wasn't trying to hurt anyone.
I withheld information. Of that much I'm guilty. But I didn't know how to tell you about them without facing all this. And, well, I was a little afraid that if I told Kel where to find them, he would done something rash. Dave found out about them on his own but apparently he didn't feel like telling us.
It's over now. They've all been arrested, and the DA is pressing for them to be tried as adults. I just need to find this girl, so it will finally be over for me too."

He sighs deeply.

"But I've got no clue. I dunno what to do."


"We live in a world where the police needs evidence. They didn't have it the first time. We didn't either, the only proof we had was a spell cast by a fourteen years old. It wouldn't have looked very sound. But this time they messed up big time, and left lots of evidence. They wouldn't escape justice this time."


"Sylvia-" he hopes she stops long enough to listen to him a little more. "I'm sorry. I didn't want you to feel hurt. I'm sorry if I disappointed you. If I tried to protect you it's because I care about you."

"You know it doesn't matter, right?  You know they're gone?  Probably for good?  There's nothing left in them.  They're just meat."  The whites of her eyes flash, and she swallows convulsively.  There's something about the witches' profound emptiness that terrifies her.


"You went to the sites?  You tried your psychometry?  What is it that you do exactly?  I keep telling you, maybe I can help.  If you're reading emotions, maybe I can. . . .

"I was there that first time," she observes.


She turns to face him.  "I've been thinking a lot about what's real, what's important.  I've been trying to figure out how we're different from the witches and Fern and Leland and his rapists.  We have power.  And we have a duty to be good.  We have a duty to think about what we're doing, and why.  My friend says he did a lot of terrible things under the command of. . . ."  She rephrases.  "He thought he was doing good because he was following orders."

Her lips press together in a small, stiff line.  "Things are complicated enough without trying to maintain false relationships, you know?"  Then her expression softens.  She didn't come here to fight, only to try to find the truth.  "I've learned from Donnie that you can't presume reciprocal feelings in someone else.  The only thing you know is real is what's in your own heart.  I care about you, too, Colin.  When you need me, you can count on me.  I'm not sure that means we're friends.  I'm starting to think that friendship, and love, are delusions--or illusions, if you will.  Conceptually they mean nothing, independent of time.  And we haven't had much time."

She blinks as if coming back to herself and then bites her lip, suddenly conscious of the gust of air that ruffles the cafe's awning as a train passes.  "Sorry.  Talking to Smith--"  She taps her temple.  "--has gotten me into the bad habit of saying whatever I think."

Colin seems confused for a moment.

"Wait, I was talking about the rapists, not the witches."


"I... Well, I'm not sure what I do exactly. I go somewhere, or touch something, and another scene plays out in my head. I just let it flow through me. It could be that I haven't found the right place, or that too much time has passed. I dunno. I only wanted to warn you, if you really want to come, you're welcome."


"I'm afraid we're bound to see things differently. In the world I live in, or looking at it through my eyes, if you prefer, those things do mean and matter a lot. But I think I see what you mean."

"Sorry," she says.  "Fixating.  With the rapists, sure.  That's old-fashioned Hammurabi eye-for-an-eye justice, a bunch of Oak Park boys in prison with Bubba the Love Machine."


"I have to do something.  It's the idleness that kills me."


"Are you talking about magic?"  She looks wistful.  "Can you see love?  Friendship?  Are they real?"

Colin frowns.

"This is not what I was aiming for. It would be useless."



"I can understand that very well. We'll go together."



"So real that they can bring people together even after death. Didn't you see Darla's parents?"

Sylvia was there, and saw the phantasms of Darla's parents, but she's unwilling to grant, without proof, that they were in fact souls and not just illusionary projections of Colin's magic.  "But you can't see emotion, right?  I mean, is it like reading auras?  Can you see how someone feels about someone else?"

Colin passes the question to the blackbird.

Can I?

No.  That's not something you can see.

"No, I can't see it. So? I can't see x-rays either, but they are real, aren't they? You can tell by the effect they have on the things they touch. Love and friendship are about the same." Colin shrugs.

"Measurable in their effect?"  She shakes her head.  "I don't know.  I'm starting to think emotion, all emotion, is just biochemistry and left-brain rationalization.  I was hoping you could tell the difference between real love and fake love.  I can't.  It's scary."

"Some things you can't know. That's what faith is for."

Sylvia sighs and shakes her head.  "You're taking this spirit-dancer thing way too seriously."

Colin frowns.

"No. This is me. Maybe I'm the Spirit Dancer because I am like this. Not the other way around."