#sinclxr

     It had been a very long day. Her shift was technically only nine hours, but things       tended to have a way of adding up. She'd been packing up the previous night      after a long bout of reviewing case files and was eager to get home and have at      least a few hours of sleep. Work had a way of interfering whether she liked it or      not, however, and the sergeant had received a call about an explosion in Fifth,      near the markets. Of course, after receiving the necessary information, she'd had      to go around canvassing potential witnesses, getting statements, and pestering      people for possible surveillance footage. She'd been helping with the case overload,      and she would likely be there for the next thirty hours as well unless someone saw      fit to send her home.

     There was a headache settling right on her temples, and no amount of over-the-      counter painkillers or coffee could kill it. She'd been staring at the same files for       fifteen minutes when Sinclar passed by and she took the opportunity for distraction.      If anyone else had a problem with it, they could rusting cry to Holt about it.

He never did show when he was upset. There was never any frowning or downward turn of his mouth. He usually tried to smile through it, and he'd always succeeded. She'd  learn to tell the signs, though. Gripping the hem of his shirt had always been the biggest give away. This time, though, he was gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He didn't even try to hide how wounded he was. Or, it didn't seem that way to Emalyn anyways.

She considered giving his shoulder a light squeeze. Let him know she was there. He'd been there for her when her father had died. It was only fair she returned the favour. Even if it wasn't obligatory, she would do it anyways.  Sin was very much like a secondary father to her. She wanted to be there for him, regardless of everything else. The only thing really holding her back from actually touching him was how much she had hated all the shoulder pats herself when her father had passed away. 

Texting and jogging probably wasn't the best idea in the world, especially if you happen to have Emalyn's luck, but she figures as long as she doesn't actually get ran over, it should be okay. She's only been almost roadkill maybe eight(teen) times. She likes to think she's gotten very good at dodging vehicles. 

Luckily, she had enough sense to stop at red lights. She replied to the most recent text before glancing over at the traffic, more to see if she could maybe run the red light than anything else. What she didn't expect to see was Sinclar. In a car. Driving it. Silently, she thanked the stars the light was red and he had to wait for the green go. 

     Kalrien had thought it a nice gesture to bring Sinclar some coffee and dinner, aware      that he had the tendency to overwork himself on very little fuel. She knocked on his      door to no answer. That was odd. He'd mentioned that he didn't have any plans for      the evening. On an impulse, she tried the door. It opened. She felt a spike of panic,      which she shoved down. "Sinclar?" She continued on into the house, every nerve on      edge.

                                     ...And found him asleep on the couch.

Emalyn didn't know why she found herself wandering to Sinclair's apartment. She'd been dealing with the legalities of her father's death and all the wellwishers for the last week, and she just needed to get away. She'd originally started heading to Eliane's, but somewhere along the way she decided Sin was a better place. 

She hesitated at his door, more to mentally prepare herself than anything else. She's gotten over the crying, but that didn't make explaining any easier. It still hurt. The reality of it all had settled in, and she was just numb.

    Eliane was not accustomed to waking up in unfamiliar locations. Therefore, her first reaction upon waking up on a couch that was definitely not hers was to freeze. She'd been sleeping. Perhaps if she stayed still, whoever it was wouldn't realize she'd woken up yet.

    There were sonds of movement coming from nearby. Someone was in the room with her. Had Dier kidnapped her? Or one of her other contacts? She tried to think back to her last memory. Sitting in Northern Park, talking with Emalyn and Sinclar.

    Slowly falling asleep against Emalyn... Oh, damn it.

    Praying she wasn't in danger, she let her eyes drift open and was both relieved and embarrassed to see that she recognized Sinclar's's apartment around her. She sat up gently, groaning as her injured side protested having slept on a couch all night and looked around.

    Sin's apartment is close... Just make it that far... He can help you... Sin's apartment is close... Just make it that far... He can help you... Sin's appartment is close...

    Eliane's thoughts had become a mantra by the time she pulled herself up the stairs to Sinclar's apartment. She'd wrapped her wrists arms in paper towels and then covered them with a baggy jacket to hide the bracers and the blood, but she'd still drawn strange looks on the Elendel subway system. Wearing a suspiciously lumpy coat in weather like this was unusual, but it was better than revealing what her arms looked like right now.

    She could still feel the bars pressing into her, smothering her, pushing her into the door, no escape. That's not the bar, idiot, he cracked your rib! She'd be surprised if there wasn't a nasty bruise around her neck and ankles as well. From what she'd seen of her feet, they were already swollen red. They'd fade to black and blue in the morning, she was sure.

    Wounds could wait. Who cared if she bled to death? A part of her realized that was an irrational thought process, but she didn't care.

    She had to get them off of her right now she could feel them on her skin digging in pushing her back he was Pushing on them and she couldn't get them off.

    Still trembling, she raised her hand and knocked against the door, whimpering as the sharp motion sent flares of pain down her arm. "S-sin... Sin, are you home?" Was that her voice that sounded so frail?

              {{ Weak and powerless. }}                   {{ Pathetic. }}                      {{ Stepped on and walked over }}                          {{ by those who are better than you.}}

    "P-please... I n-need help... I need you to h-help me, Sin... I need... help."

    She couldn't wait this long. She could feel them they were on her and she could feel them on her skin and biting her. What if he wasn't home? What if he couldn't hear her? What if he wouldn't answer because of how late it was? He had tools, she could use them herself if she had to.

    Feeling smewhat recovered from the harrowing coffeeshop events of the previous day, Eliane raised her hand to the door, checking the address against the card Sin gave her the other day. Taking a deep breath, she knocked three times.