Chapter Eleven: Stay of Execution

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Micah watched in silence, as Hal consoled a quiet, teary Briseis before he ascended back onto the platform, leaving the mortal coil.

Standing on the platform, Micah felt a sense of angst creep up into him. This was not ideal at all. What if he showed her these things and she reneges again on the agreement? They both would be screwed. He couldn't risk being betrayed again, but at the same time he didn't want her harmed. That just wouldn't be good for either of them. The sorrow that flowed through those eyes were genuine, there was no mistaking that, but so were her tears of horror the other night. That same night, he was sure she would abide by the vow and she broke it the following day. Any other reaper would have killed her. Any. Single. One of them. But he just couldn't find it in him. Every time he got near her now, he saw her young face sullen with tears. The wailing for her mother. The boldness in her eyes as she challenged him. Even the closeness of her tended to invade his senses with a strange warmth that he didn't understand. He just wanted it all gone. Micah wanted this mission over so he could get back to some normalcy.

Micah went up to the handler's booth and rang for Saffron. Finally, she came from the back with an odd, contorted look on her ivory face. "Hi Saffron."

"Hi Micah. Thanks for checking in." She spoke quietly, very timid from her usual behavior.

His eyes squinted, boring into her. "Saffron, what's the matter?"

Saffron cleared her throat, her eyes wide as she felt betrayed by her body language. "Um, Gideon came by to visit me earlier. And trust me, he was not pleased about whatever's going on down there with the witch. I've never heard him swear so much." She grabbed his slip of paper and stamped it.

Micah frowned, a pang of concern hitting him. "He didn't take it out on you, did he? Hmm?" He told Gideon he had it under control, but if he wanted to be a dick and harass others who had no part of it, then Micah was ready to make it his business to calm him the hell down. He wasn't one for reapers treating the handlers poorly.

Saffron, almost sensing the negative energy around Micah, held up her hands. "No! No! not at all!" she lied. "He was just swearing at the situation, that's all. Saying that his job was incomplete thanks to you and that arrogant necromancer." She leaned forward to Micah, lowering her voice more. "I thought everything was settled with her, Micah? What's going on?"

"I thought so too, Saffron. But she is super difficult." He started to chew his bottom lip in frustration. Micah always trusted his handlers, especially Saffron. They have worked together for a very long time and she was just and wise to a fault. However, this situation had him ashamed. A handler's purpose was to advocate for you when things go wrong, and help you make it right during your mission. His bright blue eyes looked at her.

He never had to solicit her advice before. Not once. But, he needed it now.

"Micah?" Saffron asked with a small, concerned tone. Her eyes were searching and a sense of tension started to churn around them.

Micah started to open his mouth, but he closed it with a sigh. The words wouldn't come out. They just wouldn't. Call it pride, call it shame. Whatever it was, it was confusing him, twisting him up like a mad contortionist eager to please. For once, Micah didn't have all the answers. He woefully felt it was the beginning of the end for him.

"Micah?" Saffron came around from the back, loping from the side of the wall to meet him at the counter. "Micah, talk to me." She looked around, concerned it anyone saw their interaction in this manner. As long as she's known him, Micah as always been confident. The reaper knew his shit inside and out and their wasn't no job too big or small for him. Ever. But as Saffron looked into his ethereal blue eyes she saw something she never in a million years expected to see.

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