(no subject)

[karra]

Thomas sat on the porch of their rented house, clumsily trying to light a cigarette with his bandaged hands and failing miserably. He swore, dropping the pack of catnip cigarettes onto the step beside him and glared at nothing.

Gabriel was wonderful, and he was so glad to be home with his kids and with Alex, but his last vision was spoiling it. "Dammit."

"For crying out loud, Pinky. Here." Von sat beside him, lighting the cigarette for him.

Taking it, Thomas took a drag and breathed in deep. "Thanks, Brain. I haven't had a cigarette in half a freaking year..."

"Yeah, right. Suuure. Liar."

Thomas glared and leaned back, regretting it when he accidentally put pressure on one of his wounds. "Christ, this sucks."

"Care to share with the class?"

Kicking the ground, the Angel of Death glared at Von again. "I had a vision. About Sophia."
"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"What was it?"

"She was fighting Adolph."

"Was she winning?"

"It was hard to tell. Thing was, she was using my sword and my technique."

"That's a good thing."

"Why's that, Martha?"

"Because you kick ass."

Thomas smiled, shaking his head and taking another drag on the cigarette. Alex would never let him smoke when pregnant and even now frowned if Thomas came in smelling like burned catnip. "I've had my ass kicked for me quite a few times, too, remember."

"Yeah, I know. I was there. Still, the Elder must have a lot of faith in you and your so-called technique if he trusts you to teach his firstborn."

"He hasn't asked."

"Yet."

"I feel like a walking, self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Well, duh."