Essex [the bad familiar]

7: It doesn't get better

Being inside a hospital always made Sandelene want to wash her hands. She never felt clean until she left. The whir of machines, the scrubs, the beeps and tears of all kinds. She always felt like a stranger in a foreign land, unsure how to act or behave, never knowing where to go or what to say or do. She even felt a little shy, walking up to the receptionist and asking after Officer Peabody.  She's his friend, she lied, when the receptionist, with an upturned nose and sharper eyes than a hawk's, hesitated. She'd heard he'd gotten hurt tonight and needed to see him to make sure he's safe. She gave the man her name, had been about to give up a long wait, when an off-duty officer (and actual friend of Peabody's) who'd heard her plea pulled her aside.

"He's not accepting visitors," Officer Saltz told her. Saltz looked a few years younger than the injured officer. It was in his eyes, Sandy thought; they were bright and fresh, as if they hadn't yet seen all the world had to offer. And his posture was the same way; trim and athletic. Brown eyes, blonde hair, a bit of a sunburn. Just a pup in her mind, at least as far as the force went.

"You don't understand," she said, pulling out her phone. "I have to see him. He's been asking after me, see? Right here, all these calls from your department."

Saltz, leaning his elbows against the grey counter, looked her over. "That's our number, but I've never heard mention of you. Peabody's got a mouth on him. If you were his leading lady, I-"

"I'm not, " Sandy was quick to correct, running a hand through her hair with a coy little smile. Saltz was rather handsome when he stared her down like that, and she took just a tiny bit of guilty pleasure in being able to announce that she was single. That is, until her fingers snagged on a bird's nest of a knot. She cursed, tried to rip her hand out and only made a slightly-smoothed mess of the left side of her head. "I was, uh, in the building with him when he got hurt."

Saltz pushed off the counter. The intense look in his eyes was no longer pleasant. "You were there?"

Sandelene's hands rose in instinctual defense. "Before you say anything, he'd only gone in because of me."

Saltz's eyebrows rose.

"That sounds bad, I know. I meant to say I was hired by the library owner to locate and dispose of a cursed object. You see, I'm a, a..." Her tongue felt thick and stupid. 'I'm a half-assed witch' sounded lame as fuck. She straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and declared with a head held not-quite-proudly, "I'm, I specialize in the magical arts trade. Officer Peabody was escorting me inside after I'd witnessed a, well shoot me now, this is gonna sound ridiculous. After I'd witnessed a dead man. You know, an apparition."

"A ghost?"

"Yeah, I know. But when you say it like that..."

"How am I supposed to say it, Miss Magic?"

"Sandelene," she said quickly. "Sandelene Jhel. And you're supposed to say 'ghost' like it's possible they exist." Or better yet, she thought, don't say it at all. She'd never been much of a believer until a few hours ago. She was beginning to feel quite certain that she wanted to go back to not being sure of their existence.

"I see," Saltz continued. "And have you given your statement?"

"No," she said, and the guilt hit her hard. She pulled at knotted strands, wincing. "I  sort of got what I came for, got scared when Officer Peabody disappeared, and ran away from the scene. I didn't mean any harm to befall him, and I didn't mean to-" She paused, corrected course, stopped trying to make herself look better. "Fuck it, yes, I meant to leave him behind. He didn't answer and I could feel it, deep in my bones, the malevolence in the silence that waited between me and him. It was like one of the horror movies, where you scream at the tv, 'Don't be stupid! Just leave! Don't look in!' Well, I didn't look.  I took off, and locked up the cursed object and went and got myself a drink before I could even think straight. And I'm not proud of acting so horribly,  but that's where we are. Where I am, sorry. So, I'm here to pay my respects if he'll let me see him. It's the least I can do. Could you help me do that, Officer?"