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Nox Bordelon

And I come back changed, I can feel it in my bones

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Nox Bordelon

Without Jacqueline Frost's corpse (or whatever) in his arms, he could really take in the extent of what had happened in the Great Hall.  The massive stone statues that usually stood guard in the alcoves were down on the ground, some of them spattered with dark blood and signs of struggle, though they were no longer moving.  Tables were upturned, rearranged into a bizarre sort of corridor that led up to the medieval doors that opened the hall up to the rest of the school - doors that he walked through every morning.  Wands, books, papers, and bags littered the floor and, if he was being truly honest with himself, he would have said this looked like some sick scene from a post-apocalyptic video game.  It caused a shiver of horror up his spine.

 

Maggie, he remembered, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.  Calling for her would do no good.  The place was filled to bursting with the sounds of students crying or, in some cases, screaming - clutching injuries that bled profusely while Aurors, professors, and older students milled through the wreckage attempting to get the injured parties to the various stations that were popping up around the Great Hall.  One of the statues cracked to life, crawling back to the place it had occupied before with thunderous footsteps.  One of the healers called frantically for the Head Girl - a mother, probably, and he cringed.  He'd seen Maggie's mother already - seen her with Maggie's little brother who bore teeth marks like @Jacqueline Frost.

 

Nox tried (and failed) to move through the area without stepping in someone's blood, but the floor was slick with it, smeared in some places where fights had occurred.  There were paw prints in some of it and he tried not to think about it, really, because thinking about it meant thinking about the two third years he'd left with @Odette Sinclair.  

 

The sixth year clutched his wand in his hand, stomach clenching and twisting as he navigated the disaster, ears ringing.  He looked wildly for her, stumbling back and forth from one end of the hall to the other, and he began to think that something horrid had happened.  He began to wonder if he should have stuck with Odette and waited for Maggie to inevitably show up there.  He checked the stations, checked the unconscious children being moved from one place to another, asked anyone that seemed lucid enough to answer.  Blonde girl, this tall.  Probably trying to fight the closest statue.  Most people looked at him like it was crazy and Nox scrubbed his hands over his face.

 

It was only then that he realized how he looked.  He was positively swimming in...Jacqueline.  There was blood all down the front of his goldenrod and black robes, blood soaked through his tie so that you couldn't even tell what house he was in anymore, and it was smeared down his arms and over his face.  He looked like he'd been mauled by something when, in fact, he'd been safe for the duration of the entire event.

 

"Jesus," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and trying to swallow the panic.  She'd be fine.  She was always fine.  Honestly, werewolves should have been scared of her.  

 

Nox looked around again.  Still carnage.  Still frantic children.  Still screaming adults.  Still a dead body, honestly, when was someone going to do something about that?

 

And then, at the corner of the room, missing her jumper, her tie, and one of her shoes, with blood on her face, in her hair, and all over her front, was Maggie.  "Maggie!"  His heart thumped in his throat and he nearly shoved someone out of the way as he climbed over the table-corridor to reach her where she was standing in a literal puddle of red.  He called her again and received no response until he finally stumbled over the obstacles in his way, nearly dropping his wand in the process, and reached her.

 

His first reaction - his gut reaction - was to make sure that the blood wasn't hers and he grasped her face, combing fingers through her hair and down over her shoulders but she seemed...shell-shocked and...physically whole.  With safety established, all bets were off and he hardly cared that they were supposed to be fighting.  He pulled her in, arms tight around her, and sickeningly enough, was grateful it was her brother he'd seen with Odette and not her.

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Maggie Sinclair

Maggie would have followed after her brother, trailing their pseudo-uncle to do what she normally did when things had gone way off the rails during her brief command of the house and its rules; try to explain why she’d not been watching Adam and that was the reason for the singed curtains. Or if it happened to be Jack getting up to shenanigans, Maggie would then bribe Adam to take the fall for that while taking several falls herself. A little bruised in the ego and pride, but secure in the knowledge that her parents tended to expect their level of destruction.

 

This though? Jacks leg split open to the white meat…him laid across the floor of the great hall begging someone to fix it while she sat there helpless and grounding herself in the hold she’d managed to maintain, even in the face of the help she’d just been crowing about moments before. Facing down their mother would do nothing but see her cower in shame that she’d not done enough, that she’d immediately be blamed and Maggie could not deal. Not with watching Uncle Juju walk away with her brother, or what would happen in the aftermath of that.

 

It was why she stayed rooted to the spot, eyes unseeing as chaos reigned around her, stumbling when a hurried healer rushed past and nearly tipping back to her knees on the cobblestone when she was suddenly grabbed, the tightness in her throat she’d thought she had a handle on suddenly overtook her and Maggie sobbed hard, eyes brimming over with tears, her nose and face buried into the front of robes that smelled of blood but something else a lot more familiar and everything she’d honestly thought she’d never smell again too.

 

Maggie wrenched herself back to stare up at him, remembering @Damaris Denton covered in blood at her feet. Of @Killian Dracel coming out of nowhere to flacking abscond with her out of the effing window while she’d prayed and begged to whoever was listening that not only would her brother live, but that a boy who’d completely crushed her heart a week ago was alive and completely unharmed.

 

“I thought you died!” she hollered then, voice cracking and wavering as she raged, pushing and hitting at his chest one second and the next running her hands over the places she’d just bruised to check. She had to check.

 

“There was so much blood…and I couldn’t fix it, I couldn't stop it.  I thought he was gonna die…I thought YOU died…I thought-I thought...” she trailed off before burying her face in her hands to cry harder.

Edited by Maggie Sinclair

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Nox Bordelon

Died?

 

Nox blinked.  Of course, she wouldn't have known.  They hadn't been speaking the way that they normally did.  She hadn't asked for his plans that morning and he hadn't given them to her of his own volition.  She'd have never known that he was working the wing (and by working he obviously meant sleeping because, let's be real, @Sophia Hunter was the true MVP up there.)  If it had been at any other point in their relationship, Maggie would have been with him.  She would have said 'flack the rules, Nox, if Lushia wants to kick me out, she can do it with her boot' and she would have sat right there in the wing with him.

 

Instead, she'd been with Jack and he'd seen what Jack looked like - like a mutilated steak, in all honesty, and it was a wonder Maggie didn't look just as bad.  It was a wonder she was even functioning enough to speak, but the moment the word left her lips, it was like a dam broke and all the waterworks came spilling out in a rush.  He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her cry, not like this.  Maggie was one of those girls that threw punches before she let anyone see her break down like this.  She always put her stoic face on, set her teeth, and kept her spine straight.  He'd admired her for that - loved her for it, in fact, so when she started to sob he didn't know what to do.

 

"I was in the wing," he said dumbly.  "I didn't even get hurt.  Are you...?"  He couldn't quite finish the question, not when he didn't really want the answer to be that yes, in fact, she was - that some of the blood that soaked through her clothes was hers.  The little training that he had in the wing hadn't prepared him for this, but it had taught him a few things.  She was talking.  She was on her feet.  Those were good signs and when he ran his fingers down her arms from shoulder to wrist, he found no signs of damage.  He would have kept holding her hands if she hadn't wrenched them away to cry.

 

Nox took a breath.  They needed to get out of here.  She needed to get out of here.  The longer they stood there, with her crying in a puddle of Jack, the worse this was going to get.

 

He wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close again, flattening his hands against her back and he could feel her shake.  "Hey, you're okay.  I'm okay.  Jack is going to be okay.  He's with your mother.  I saw them already.  Let's...let's get you out of here."

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