We Are Bulletproof

For shame. What happened to being the most fabulous bitches in town, no matter what?

All because you meet the love of your life
Several lives
Standards suddenly don't apply? Hmph

I save lives, not feelings, baby. ;) We have standards around here.

You'll feel better once you talk to Bee. Btw you'll be able to see and hear him, but he won't see you. He'll hear you.

Which is probably a good thing... because you reeeeally let yourself go lately. Yeesh.

That's better. 😏 As long as you know that without me, life is not worth living.

You're starting to sound more like yourself baby. We were all so worried about you.

That hardly sounds like praise!

But okay I'll tell you
Only because you're special. I've been tracking these things down, didn't want to get your hopes up.

There's a thing called a scrying mirror. It's a fae relic. I'm having one sent over right now. All you have to do is look into it and speak Bee's True Name. Fae used it to communicate over long distances all the time... before cell phones.

As for the other thing...
I found out that one of the bitchy witch covens here has been hiding a life fruit.

I'm going over right now to
Persuade them
To give it to us

Because alcohol suppresses your powers and acts like a wall, and Bee might have a harder time getting through to you if you're drunk.

He might also be holding off in case your dreams are monitored.

Lucky for you, your best bitch has a solution. AND I found something that could bring him back!

Praise me. I know I'm amazing but praise me anyway. 👸

No no no
No bottle for Jackie. We need you very sober right now.

Has Bee visited your dreams yet?

Hey bitch!

How're you holding up Jack sweetie?

Marge still wasn't convinced the light changing was a bad thing. She didn't feel it. It was just different, in a neutral way maybe. She couldn't be sure yet, but her sixth sense wasn't tingling and she wasn't freaking out the way she might have if the light went dark or went out.

As Jack plucked the book from Brayden's hands, he stirred and his eyes opened. When he caught sight of Jack he smiled. Marge thought that was the kind of smile with enough power to break hearts, if Brayden wasn't careful.

"Hey," he said tiredly and sleepily, reaching up to touch Jack's hand. "Did I fall asleep?"

Marge moved forward to get a glimpse of the book too. It was a photo album, she noticed, and her heart panged unpleasantly. Brayden was looking through photos of his family over here, all by himself...

"You need to sleep soon." Marge followed Jack outside, scanning the room for Brayden. Raf looked up with one of his annoyingly bright smiles, from the couch where he had been cuddling with his surly little boyfriend. And Ken immediately appeared watchful; Marge was sure he noticed the haggard look about Jack, and Marge's worried frown.

"Ignore us, everything's okay." Marge walked outside to an empty courtyard, but pointed across the way. "He's in his apartment. Look, the light's on. Come on baby." Slipping an arm around Jack's waist to support him, Marge walked over to Brayden's apartment, where the door was unlocked. Gently she pushed it open, to the sight of him clutching a book to his chest, fast asleep on the couch.

"Aww... poor thing." She touched Jack's hand with hers. "See his light? It's different, right?"

"Brayden Smith, you clever son of a bitch," Marge muttered to herself as she stared down at the page. Yes... Armed did spell dream. Dream, to go along with the fact that Brayden was a dream walker, and the prince of the house of dreams.

"He left these for himself. Whoever started this, whichever version of Bee initiated this whole thing, he left them in every lifetime for you guys to find." Marge grabbed the pen and scribbled down 'dream' underneath the first word. She looked hard at the second one, which was longer and more annoying to figure out.

"Shouldn't we get Bee? He can help, he's the booky type." Marge was more the shit-talking type, or the violently actiony type. "Where did he get off to anyway?"

"Really?" Color Marge intrigued. So Brayden noticed clues but Jack didn't. Brayden wrote the two words down while Jack was busy watching their past lives go by. It sounded like maybe it was Brayden who left the messages for himself to find at a later date. Or... whatever, an older version of Brayden who felt the need to leave little breadcrumbs. That did sound like a Brayden thing to do, Marge thought—that forward-thinking was indicative of his ability to over-think everything, but to also come up with some pretty good plans.

She squinted at the words. Armed. Rateably. Jack wasn't much help but he looked like he was going to pass out pretty much at any given moment, so she didn't expect him to have much insight. "I guess it's a word..." Marge turned the book this way and that, staring down at the two words. "You're sure he found nothing in the second vision?"

Armed.

Rateably.

They made no sense without context. "Which one was first? I mean the first vision, which word did he find first in the first one? Armed or the other one? Because..." She turned the book again. "It sort of looks like a word scramble. You know, like the letters could spell something else... another word..."

Marge just gave Jack a Look because—yeah, she could kill somebody with her bare hands. Literally. She could throttle their heart from the outside, like she did to that golem fucker who tried to kill Brayden and Jack. So yeah. She did. She knew it, too, and she wasn't afraid to use it if it meant keeping her friends safe.

"They're visions but you pull them from the past. You create this... dimension where the scenes play out, like a temporary movie theater. But if you're not careful, you can get trapped there. And you'll be there watching that same scene play out over and over again, until you find the exit—if you're lucky." Her tone was grim but it was a grim and horrible fate that could have awaited them! Jack and Brayden could have looped through the same visions forever! Meanwhile their bodies would be here in the bedroom, prone and unconscious, unable to be awakened. Scary shit!

"What did he see? What message?" Marge saw the notepad on the bed earlier, but only just now pulled it over towards her. She scanned the two words written down on it, frowning. The first one was neatly written; the second one was... scrawled, that was the only word for it. It was scrawled onto the pad in great distress.

"What do these mean?"

"Yeah. Different shade... But I'm not sure it's all bad. I don't know what it means yet, I'll have to ask around and look into it." There were older seers she could ask, and books she could consult. While Marge didn't belong to a coven—that shit wasn't for a strong, independent woman who refused to follow any so-called 'leader'—she was friends with other witches. Some of them didn't mind her, and a lot of them liked to party with her so she had a good base of knowledge to draw upon when needed.

As for the visions... Oh, boy. Two amateurs sleuthing around without any guidance, tapping into Jack's powers without any safeguards! Marge rolled her eyes heavenward. "You idiots!" She slapped Jack on the shoulder hard enough to make a point, but not hard enough to actually dislocate it. "You could've gotten trapped! Do you know how goddamn hard it is to project yourself into the past? And to take a—a visitor with you? You're lucky you both got out!"

Jesus Christ! She really couldn't leave them alone for even a second! She was hoping that they were using 'visions' as an euphemism for sex, which she was perfectly fine with. But knowing that they were here doing dangerous shit? Marge felt a jolt of actual, pure fear for them. Then, a stroke of pride. That took a lot of magic! Both Jack and Brayden really were strong fae. Royalty. If they could learn to harness their abilities and to hone them, she doubted that anyone could stop them.

That was if they didn't get themselves in trouble first, like the dumbasses they were!

"So Bee died? In the second one?" Marge reached out and took Jack's hand in hers. "Shit Jack. I'm sorry you had to see it, but that's... It's all over and done with. You and Bee are both alive and safe now, and if you don't do crazy shit like this again, you'll stay safe. I will keep you safe."

"It's like... different. A different shade than yours, a little weaker." Marge tried to press Jack down, seeing the alarm on his face. He looked weak too, and definitely not ready to hear any of what Marge was telling him, but... Shit, he had to know. This wasn't something that could wait until they both felt better, so they could sneak off and try it again.

As for Jack's light... Marge touched his chest again. "Yours is a little weaker. Probably because you're tired. Bee too, he must be exhausted. You two need to sleep. Rest. That's the only way to restore your light." Well, that and some TLC. Soup maybe. Marge let out a low sigh as she retracted her hand and glanced over her shoulder, wondering where Brayden had gotten to, what it meant that his light changed.

It was only the second time she'd even seen something like this—the other time was with Rhys. His light kept flickering between light and dark, as the corruption warred with the love blooming inside. But Brayden couldn't be corrupted... And his light wasn't flickering, it just... changed colors. Not to a darker color, either, just a different one. Like he'd evolved or something, maybe, if that was even possible.