Fifteen

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Fifteen

It'd been over four months since he'd seen her last, a length that felt like a lifetime in of itself. Of course, he'd been preoccupied with the supernatural in that timespan, but just looking down at his sister now made his heart skip a beat and his entire body feel aged beyond itself. Or maybe that was the cigarettes talking.

"We need to go." The Magistrate man closed his fingers around the back of Oliver's coat and jerked him back, much to Oliver's surprise. Lilith whimpered from her spot on the ground, creating sounds that churned Oliver's stomach.

Lilith...

The pressure around the nape of Oliver's neck lessened. Using one hand to rub out his aching shoulders, he took a step forward and tilted his head to the side.

"Lilith? You can... see me?"

"Never mind that!" The pinch returned to the back of Oliver's neck as the Magistrate man – Magic Man, the Scourge had called him – leaned close. "We have to go. We can't stay in this situation."

Oliver rammed his elbow into the man's chest. "Piss off."

Before them, Lilith continued to cry.

"Look at her," the man insisted. "She's obviously compromised. I don't want to be the one to explain to the Magistrate why you're interfering; do you?"

"But the Scourge..."

"We just got our asses handed to us."

"But it's not like I can take her anywhere..."

The man arched an eyebrow. "All the more reason why you should leave. You can't protect her on your own. You're a detective, not a brawler."

It was at this that Lilith snapped to attention, fixing them both with a glare that turned Oliver's blood to ice. "I'm right here, you know."

Before Oliver could process it, Lilith had jumped to her feet and left a hand-shaped sting on Oliver's cheek.

"Johnson!"

Oliver stared off into the distance, seeing and yet not seeing the brown-skinned, wild-eyed girl before him. The pain warmed his cheeks and made his eyes water.

Lilith made to slap him again, but must have reconsidered at the last second. Her hands dropped to her sides. "I waited for you," she breathed. "It's been four months. I waited."

Oliver swallowed, hard, his heart thudding in his ears.

The Magistrate man's hand closed around the back of Oliver's duster once more. "We need to leave."

Lilith jumped forward. "You can't!" She reached for Oliver's wrist and held it in a vice-grip.

It should have hurt, Oliver reflected as he looked between the two of them. The tips of her nails dug into his forearms, over the old scars that had led him here. The pressure reminded him of razor blades and spilt blood.

Is it the dilations that make me like this or is it the shock?

Before anyone could answer him, his cellphone buzzed inside his pocket. Lilith's eyes widened as the Magistrate man came between them and, with a single wave of his hand, broke Lilith's grip. It wasn't until her touch left his that Oliver realized he'd been wanting to hold her, too.

"Answer that, Johnson. Then we have to go."

Oliver nodded and slipped his hand into his pocket. It vibrated again in his palm when he took his phone out and read the name in the window.

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