you have witchcraft

What are you doing out here?

“I can’t sleep… I can’t remember the last time I kept my eyes closed for more than a couple hours…”

I don’t think talking to yourself is going to help you, either.

This city doesn’t even remotely resemble my home any longer. It used to be so full of light and enthusiasm, and now it has turned to ruins.

Yes, I'm fine. Don't touch me. 

Marcel could scent Davina in the Abattoir before he heard him but he figured he must be imagining things. Davina was with Piper; she wouldn’t be here. It took him a second to realize that the witch was actually there and within seconds, he was standing in front of her. “Davina…” He trailed off, his hands reaching out to hold her arms gently, afraid he might break her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, ignoring her face as he searched her for injuries, the blood on her suggesting she was bleeding. “Who did this to you?” He added, his concern now laced with anger as he finally met her eyes.

Normally when he appeared so suddenly before her she became frightened, always caught off guard by his speed. However, too much clouded Davina's mind for her to feel anything but an all consuming guilt and grief growing within the pit of her stomach. She didn't hesitate to embrace Marcel, remembering what home felt like again. "I'm fine -- it's Pi..." Davina couldn't bring herself to speak her name. Admitting Piper was hurt, or dead, would be accepting the reality and the little witch couldn't do that. She couldn't lose another person. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine," she chanted with shaky breaths and a tightening throat. "I just can't lose her -- I can't lose someone else," she half mumbled, half sobbed as tears began to streak down her cheeks again. Davina hid her face against his shirt, clinging onto him tighter and wishing her current predicament wasn't real.

No, no! Stay. Talk. I’m fine; I’ll be fine - I’m a big girl, I’ll have a glass of water.

I -- I don't think I've ever seen you this happy.

“ come on, ‘vina. you know i have the voice of an angel. “

"Davina, be careful of your accusations. Do you have definitive proof of blood on my hands? To clarify, I only spoke with Zoey a handful of times. Adam and I were never close but he was someone I felt comfortable with. And I never harvested hard feelings towards Piper. Find your murderer somewhere else."

"I saw the markings on Piper's body. I know what dark magic looks like; I'm not stupid. You're the only one who needs to draw power by killing innocent people, what more proof do I need?"

Jesus christ.

Cheetos are chips, Harper, and no, I have neither. 

Forgive me, Davina, you can’t just - can’t just say - can’t just tell someone that and - and - and and expect immediate goddamn fucking understanding.

You asked.

Oh, my God. I just saw her the other d-wait, what? Murdered? I mean, yeah, I’m a cop but I’m not a detective or any…you know, it doesn’t matter. I’ll push this but you gotta tell me everything.

I have to tell you everything? Aren't you supposed to know everything? You're the police, what are you good for if you don't even know about the murders going on in this town?

Sweetheart, listen. I’m not going to leave you alone. My mom went missing and I never got to find peace. This funeral, and gathering with the people that love you and Piper, can help you find that. Trust me on this one.

If you don't leave me alone, you will die. It's not an assumption, it's a fact. I can't find peace knowing that I promised to protect her and failed. I had one job and I failed.

Piper died. Piper is dead. Piper was murdered. Piper's heart was ripped out of her chest. Piper was stabbed to death. How many times do I have to say it? Piper is dead.