Going through changes

She felt like this was some cruel game, even if it was actually helping her in the long run. It was just not how she had hoped it would be. "Everything will be clear soon enough," she said, stretching her arm, but she still wasn't reaching the cup. Breathing out she backtracked, sitting upright in her chair for a while. "Helped?" she wondered what help there really could be. She wanted to heal them, she was not willing to stand by as people suffered, but she also had to be realistic about all of this. Instead of thinking about it too much she reached her hand out again, but she tipped it over, frowning as she felt defeated. "Again, another spot," she just instructed him.

Nodding she understood that containment was their only real solution right now. He changed the position of the cup, and it was as if she could almost see the sound waves as she reached out. She was so close as he grabbed her arm. Breathing out in a sigh, her face turned to face him. Her eyes were covered up, just to not risk hurting them further. "I know that you worry," she said. Did he really think she hadn't felt when at night he pulled her closer and buried his face in her hair? Of course she had, "I don't like this either, but we have too little time to be selfish," she spoke so rationally, as if being blinded had given her a clearer view. Maybe it was absurd to think that way, but it sure felt it. "I'll be back before you know it ... the healers are well instructed in taking care of Saoirse, and when I return we hopefully have the help of a couple of seraphim," it was just how it was going to be. She had gotten this far and turning back was the same as admitting defeat.
Removing her arm from his grip, she caressed his hand before she grasped around the cup, pulling it to her. She felt a little proud.

She didn't have to see his face to know he looked almost stoic, but also that hint of worry that she knew only she could see. He said he trusted her, but those words carried a bigger meaning than that. As she grabbed the cup but his congratulation sounded more filled with worry than genuine happiness. The scraping of the chair against the floor made her frown lightly, knowing he was getting up to stand. His words making her nod, getting up from her seat as well. Reaching for him, she grabbed on to his arm.
"Walk me to the healing room ... I want to oversee Saoirse's healing before I have to leave," she said. She knew the way, but walking with him was always more pleasant. And less of a chance of some of the cultists stopping her on her way. If he did she would walk calmly beside him, just listening to their steps. "She's doing better ... But Amos' infection is starting to spread and he refuses any help."

He noticed how she was reaching for him and he let her take his arm before her words made him sigh. He could do that, but he hadnt remembered the last time he had actually seen their daughter. Sure there had been glimpses here and there, but he hadnt really been in contact with her since their argument. He just hummed as a reply, guiding her though it felt like he didnt really have to. "Wont he be a danger to Saoirse if he refuses to stop the spread?" he asked, because that was the only logical thought he had about that. There was no reason for Amos to not trust them in this, and yet it seemed that both of the children were so adamant on mistrust and making their own decisions. They got to the door and he stopped for a bit as he just looked at it.

Humming softly at his question, because it wasn't just so clear. "I thought so ... In the beginning," she said, walking rather calmly next to him. Sometimes she even forgot that she couldn't see, because everything just were so vivid in her mind. "But she get's worse when he's not near her, as if her body is eager to self-destruct - But when he's there?" she said breathing out and shaking her head lightly. "I simply can't explain it," not much seemed to surprise her these days, but it was so clear that what Saoirse and Amos had made them stronger. Sure, it couldn't heal an infection, but together they seemed almost invincible.
"But I would like to start some treatment on Amos; Even if he doesn't want to, I know our daughter might hate us more if we don't help him," and Buffy believed that to be especially true. Without Amos, Saoirse's state could collapse and she could die from heartache before the infection finished her off. "I know that you are not on speaking terms with them ... But while I am gone, maybe try and reconcile what you had?"

He listened as she went on to explain the whole ordeal. Though it sounded so unlikely that him being near her couldnt be anything but danger, it also somehow didnt sound impossible. The infection was something no one could understand, as it wasnt ever observed before. "I'd imagine that he'd listen to reason if you present it for him. Instead of taking over, show him how to do it all on his own? Knowing him, he'd be too stubborn to not seize the opportunity to act alone," he pondered, looking shortly at his light before looking back at the door. Reconciling just seemed rather impossible after all that had happened. "I feel like she'd never let me amend for what I've done," he replied rather sure in his own words. He grabbed the handle and opened the door. Seeing them, it was like he hadnt expected a different sight. Amos loyally holding onto her hand while he seemed to be resting in his chair. He led Buffy to the altar and took a moment to look at their daughter. He didnt even have to emote it to seem concerned for what he had done. Carefully he reached over but stopped himself before he frowned. He was most definitely a danger to her with the artifact so eager and active in his chest.

Baal was right, maybe she should just teach the kid, but she felt scared that he might get cocky and run off with their daughter. As he opened the door, she knew where everything was by memory, and she knew Amos was by their daughter's side. Even if she couldn't see, she could feel Baal. Feel how he wanted to interact with Saoirse. "Belial, would you grab me a jar," she said. If he wanted to be here, then he needed to be useful - that would be the only reason why Amos would even allow him in the room.
"Amos, I know you are going to get angry, but I need your father's help today," she said calmly. Saoirse was sleeping soundly on the table, her breath calm as she was holding Amos' hand in her own. "I want to teach both of you how to aid in her healing and show you how you can heal yourself, Amos," she explained.

It was truly conflicting, wanting to make up for what he had done, but having the artifact inside him rid him of all remorse that he could be feeling. But somehow it also expected him to fully be able to mend the bond to his own blood just like that. Maybe that was what you could expect from an object that had lost all it's humanity. He went off as Buffy requested it and got her the jar. He could already feel Amos' angry gaze and a part of him was already tired of this constant opposition despite them not having shown bad intentions for weeks now. "Buffy will be going-" he explained but Amos was quick to break in, which was only expected. Baal sighed and simply nodded rather than arguing.

Buffy sighed, she knew the daemon had a hard time controlling his temper, but this wasn't just about them anymore. "While I am gone, you two need to work together - Saoirse depends on it," she said, walking over to stand by the altar. Touching her daughter's arm, she could feel how she was getting stronger, but also how the darkness threatened to take over any minute if anything went wrong. "Surely you could accept your father's presence for a while if it means her survival?" Buffy was perhaps speaking a bit more harshly than she usually would, but she was done trying to coo him into believing her.
"Saoirse is getting stronger, but without her daily treatments that strength might wither away quick," taking the jar from Baal, she opened it taking out a small knife from within it. "I'll leave some of my blood in this jar for you; I might not be here physically, but my blood still has light in it, and it will keep her stable as long as both of you do exactly as I say," stern was perhaps the best way to describe her right now. But she was clearly upset because she had no wish to leave her daughter behind, especially not if her family was not going to cooperate. "Doing it this way might help you heal as well, Amos; You could be healing her and yourself at the same time," she said, turning her head in the direction where she knew the young daemon was. She didn't have to look at him to know he wasn't satisfied, but what could he really do. "Belial, I need you to cut my palm," she said, because there was no way she could balance the jar to collect the blood, be sure she was cutting the right place and focus on her chanting at the same time. That would be difficult even with sight.

Amos was just about to object, but he knew it was nothing but a futile attempt to be cross with the both of them. He was still quite unhappy that they were kept here, but they were also forced to by the state Saoirse was in now. "Her survival wouldnt have been needed like this if he hadnt been here," he argued but then he just grunted and looked away. He didnt look at them but only listened as she explained what she was going to do and why. He had no idea how he was going to heal himself with her blood, but she would probably explain that soon enough. Otherwise there was no point to even mention it. He turned his head at her instruction for Baal, frowning in disapproval as he just watched. Even if he was attentive and taking it in, there was no way he was showing that to them.  

Letting Buffy do all the talking was perhaps their best approach. Even if Amos seemed to pay no attention to them, they both knew how much Saoirse meant to him. He wasnt just going to gamble her life because he was angry with them. As she instructed him to cut her palm, he grabbed her hand and held it above the jar. He waited for her signal before he'd make a cut into her palm that would make the blood flow down into the jar. He didnt like hurting her one bit, but she could probably feel that.

"You're right," Buffy said, her head turned to Amos, "she might've been dead if she wasn't here right now, because the infection would've gone undetected until she would've dropped dead before your eyes." It was a hard fact, one that she didn't like to think about herself, but the good thing right now was that they kept Saoirse stable and alive. If the infection had gone untreated then it wasn't to say what would've happened, but she was sure the end result wouldn't be far off from where they were now.
Baal cut her palm, and she winced, taking in a deep breath before she started murmuring a soft chant. It sounded almost like a song, but it was more about how the rhythm went. The blood being collected started glowing, white specs in it flaring like small stars. When enough blood had been gathered, she let Baal help her wrap her hand up, placing the jar on the altar next to Saoirse. "Your hand, Amos," she said and if he took out his healthy hand she would sense it, pushing it away. She wanted the infected one. If he obliged, she would pull his palm to her, dipping her fingers in her blood before drawing a symbol on his palm. "Remember this symbol, it's very important," she urged him, finding a piece of scroll with some words written on it. "Hold your marked hand over her chest," she instructed him before gesturing for Baal to come closer.
If Baal came closer she would take his already marked hand and place it over Saoirse's forehead but not touching her skin. [color=#9370DB]""Amos, when you say those words, Belial will feel a strange sensation in his hand - but your job is the hardest, you'll have to redirect the darkness around her heart and up to Belial's hand," she said. It probably made very little sense to him now, but he would be able to feel it. "Belial, you need to be clear of how much darkness you can withstand, and when you've had enough, both of you will have to say the closing words at the bottom of the scroll," it was very clear that teamwork was going to be very important for this to succeed.

Watching the blood flow into the jar, he was thinking through her words from before. She may be right, he would have gotten Saoirse killed and there was no denying it behind the attitude. As she instructed for his hand, he reached out, thinking she meant his healthy hand. He groaned as she pushed it away before giving her the infected hand. He looked at the symbol she drew, frowning a little but he wasnt going to forget it, especially as she said it was important to remember. He followed her instruction and watched as she made the summoner come closer. He glanced at the scroll while she was preparing it all, looking shortly at his hand before making a small nod at her words. He had no idea how he was supposed to do it, but it seemed that Buffy was sure enough to let him be the one doing it. The summoner hummed as she spoke to him, before he sent the young daemon a nod. Amos looked down at the scroll again, reading the words, though he wasnt the best at reading daemonic letters. He spoke the words and started feeling some sort of invisible flow between his hand and her chest, like whatever it was in her chest was moving with the direction of his hand. He was visibly nervous but started moving his hand slowly. Eventually he seemed to get the hang of it and directed the darkness towards the summoner's hand that seemed to easily remove that bit of darkness from the trybrid.

They kept going like this till Baal eventually had enough and Amos looked to the scroll with the closing words. He spoke them and felt the connection break, clenching his hand as it wasnt a pleasant experience. Lifting his hand to his chest, he used the other to rub the inside of his palm. "And this will help her?" he asked, looking down at Saoirse on the altar. The summoner didnt show any signs of changes, but seemed to have to excuse himself or rather just leave them to it for a moment.

Even if she couldn't see, she could sense the energy in the room. She was so in tune with the movement of darkness that she could practically see in her mind how things were going. It wasn't going to be an easy thing for Baal to handle, but they had both agreed that Saoirse's life was important. More important than either of their own, and when it came down to it, she knew they would risk everything to save their living proof of their shared love.
Hearing Baal leave she just chose to focus on Amos, nodding at his question. "It should," she said, holding her hand out for him to place his infected hand. "Please, Amos, just let me help you keep the infection at bay," she said calmly. She knew he wouldn't have it, but she could hear Saoirse waking up. "If not for your own sake, then for hers," she spoke rather softly as she mentioned her daughter. "If everything fails ... She'll only have you," she reminded him.

"Good." he said as he kept his eyes on Saoirse, though he could see Buffy's hand in the corner of his eye. She spoke calmly but he could hear how she was pleading with him. He narrowed his eyes that he didnt move from the trybrid as he thought about it. She brought Saoirse into it as well, but he had only expected that. Her reminder made him raise his eyes to look at her with a frown. "If she ends up only having me. That's not my fault. Remember that, now that the both of you wants to play gods that bad," he said quite aggressively but he reached his hand out to hers, even if there was a slight reluctance before she would feel his hand in hers. He just looked at Saoirse again, moving his healthy hand over to gently touch her face. But Amos wouldnt be Amos if he only spoke words of reason. "Sacrifice Belial if you have to do so to survive this. I dont care, just think of her and the heartbreak she would feel if you died, even if you are different to us now"

"Do not speak to me as if I do not understand my faults in all of this," she said, but he eventually gave his hand to her. Placing her hands around his infected portion, her palms started to glow, a slight burning sensation would spread, but it wouldn't be too bad. As she had finished, she knew she hadn't healed him, only given him more time. "Despite what you see me as, I want us to be a family when all of this is over ... I know I don't deserve being the mother of such a wonderful child, but she means more to me - and to Belial - than you think," it was simply the truth. Buffy adored Saoirse, she had held her as she had grown and now she was afraid of failing her once more. Taking a few deep breaths she finally let go of Amos' hand, her body weakened, but maybe that was just a good thing for where she was going. "She's strong, and so are you, but only when you are without one another you might understand what true pain is," was how she decided to finish up her small speech. Walking closer to the altar, she leaned down, kissing her daughter's forehead gently, sighing as she breathed in her sweet scent. She could recognize that scent anywhere.

After Buffy had made her leave, the trybrid was slowly coming to herself, blinking a few times as she opened her eyes. Looking around until she found the familiar dark hair and warm eyes. "Hey you," she said with a weak smile, but it was clear she was doing much better, sitting up all by herself - albeit a little slowly, but it was progress. "I know I spoke about going out for a walk, but I actually would rather just spend some time in our room; If you don't mind?" It was quite the innocent request. She was just tired, but she always was these days. Even if she spent most of her time in some comatose state.

"It's a fucked up way of showing it," he just mumbled in retaliation to her words. It was harder to be snarky around her because he essentially didnt really hate her, not like he hated his father. He scoffed as she spoke of pain but it was true. Someone as spoiled and young as Amos had never truly experienced pain like that. His mother had maybe shielded him quite too well in that regard. It was only seeing Saoirse when the hound had bitten her that he had gotten a true taste of what fear was like. He smiled at the trybrid as she woke up, letting her get up on her own but ready to offer a hand if needed. "I'm just gonna keep saying it. We dont have to do anything at all if you dont feel like it," he said, pulling her a little closer to the edge of the altar while pressing himself closer to her, wrapping his arms gently around her lower back.

Amos was always there. It was what made her get on that altar every damn day; The fact that he would be there when she woke up from her temporary slumber. He came over to her, pulling at her as she could do nothing but look at his face. His words always made her smile, even if she seemed a little off. "Maybe I'm just scared you'll get bored," she mumbled, placing her arms around his shoulders, looking up at his lovely eyes. Feeling his hands on her made her feel safe, but it did more than that. It made her long for something more intimate, but something they had barely dared to try in her condition. "It is rather cruel of you to pull me close like this when you know how much I miss you," she whispered, feeling her breath hiccupping a bit in her chest. He could still make her feel so nervous, as if this was still all so brand new to her.

"Bored of spending time with the woman I love? No way," he argued with a small smirk falling over his lips, that charming and confident smile he wasnt afraid to flaunt. Besides his words, he was also far too occupied with worrying about her condition and whether she was bettering day by day. Her whisper made him chuckle as he nodded and looked down into her eyes. "You're right, it is cruel of me. But on the other hand, you were just the one who said you were afraid I was getting bored. So isnt it fair to show that I'm not?" he then asked, rubbing her lower back with his thumb as he leaned down to nuzzle her nose with the tip of his. He closed his eyes and made a small sigh. "Maybe we should spend more time in our room, I dont remember the last time I've had you close like this,"

Who couldn't smile when he smiled like that? Biting her lower lip slightly she looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed but not because of him. Rather it was her thoughts running wild, and while she wanted to unleash them all, she couldn't. "It feels good," she sighed as his thumb was rubbing at her back. She felt every muscle in her body ache slightly, but it was perhaps more a side effect of the harsh altar rather than her condition. Their noses together, nuzzling back softly she closed her eyes, feeling her breath halter as her lips hovered over his. Was it really so wrong to wanting to kiss him like she had used to? She just leaned in ever so carefully, her lips barely touching his, but feeling his warm breath against her skin just did something to her. It was almost like magic. "I know this sounds very bratty; But could you perhaps carry me?" she asked. She wanted to save her energy, spend some time with him and not worry that she would fall asleep at any given moment.

"I wouldnt know you if you werent a brat at least once a day," he chuckled, moving away before he lifted her up into his arms, holding her close. He took her to their room, passing a few cultists on the way that just seemed to stare at them, or rather check that they werent on their way out or something like that. It was really like eyes were everywhere if they werent by the altar or in their private room. He got to the bed in their room where he placed her down, laying down next to her with a deep sigh. "I'm worried I'll lose muscle on just sitting around all the time," he remarked with a scoff before he turned his head to look up at her, placing his hands on his stomach, "Will you love me even if I got all chubby and lazy while we're here?" he asked with a chuckle, quite obviously kidding.