She awoke from darkness to a soft beeping. The bleeping of a pulse on a machine. Cracking her eyes open, she noticed three things right away. One; she was not dead. Which was good, she guessed...? Two; her body was not responding to her as it normally should. She went to move her fingers and it took a moment too long for them to comply with her wishes. Her eyes dropped to a little tube taped to her forearm, and she realized why. She had been drugged! In fact, there were lots of tubes and wires hooked up to her. She felt kind of like a robot. Andrea found herself giggling deliriously, and turned her hear to discover realization number three!

She was in a hospital.

Andrea was more than just a little confused for a moment, but then the memories of the night slowly began to drift back to her. Someone dying in her arms, and hungry yellow eyes and a large feline tongue on her cheek. She could feel the ghost of pain- which a cocktail of drugs surging through her system was keeping at bay, and recalled the man who had stopped and taken her to the hospital.

She owed her life to him, really. Maybe he was still around somewhere...

With blurry vision she let her eyes roam around the room as more and more memories came flooding back. She knew deep down that with each image and sound that she remembers, her stress level should have skyrocketed. The drugs were doing a nice job keeping everything nice and muddled though. Andrea felt giddy and sleepy... and a little bit restless, but nothing else. Which was... nice? Part of her worried about what would happen after she was better. Having never been in a hospital before this, she didn't know what protocol was. Would she have to fill out a stack of paperwork? Would they throw her out into the street when they found out she didn't have much money at all? What about the very person who had more or less mauled her?

So many questions, and not an answer to grab at. Shifting in her bed, she plucked at her sheets with all the coordination of a drunk. Being on pain medication reminded her greatly of her first time at a bar... Hopefully meds lacked the horrible morning after headache... and the singing. Blinking slowly, her gaze drifted to what was laying next to her in the bed. A long white snake, pulled out from his usual spot curled around her shoulders. She noticed that there were bandages wrapped around various parts of his body, and lifting a hand she gently touched the him. He felt alive... cold, but alive. That was good. Then she recalled the others, and raised the same hand to touch her head. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight bun, and what was left of the snakes in her hair hung freely around her face. The small ones, she noted. The ones that couldn't harm people.

Her fingers brushed over spots where snakes were supposed to be, only to find spots that had been neatly stitched together and covered in bandages. Whichever doctor had worked on her had amputated the bodies cleanly. Only small knobby lumps on her skull remained. That left her feeling a little troubled, and she turned her head toward the door to her room. She didn't want to be alone... not when every day corner held a roaring Lion. Another memory came trickling back.

Oh.. she had told them to call Jorge? Yes. She could distinctly recall crying and forcing a nurse to get him on the phone. She could also recall refusing medical attention, and having three nurses hold her down while someone stuck her in the left butt cheek with a needle... Everything went black from them on....

Sleeping is always appreciated and looked on as a moment to truly refresh yourself after an extremely long day. Jorge always had extremely long days so that was why he enjoyed his sleep at night. Whether with Gemma or by himself, Jorge simply allowed all his worries from the day to melt away into the blackness of his mind. Problems with work, hard cases, difficult news, all of it was simply gone as he fell asleep. It was almost a euphoric sensation that would wash over him every single time. But on this particular night, Detective Jorge Cervantes would not get his full evening of rest.

Instead a phone call was what shattered his calm and peaceful night.

When he first picked up the phone, groggy and completely out of his mind, Jorge grumbled about how important this better be. At first he could not hear the words that came through, something about a mutant and a hospital. But as he listened on sense slowly started for form from those words. And as that sense grew, so did the detective’s eyes and his comprehension of what was going on.

The last he heard before he snapped the phone shut was how critical her condition was. The detective was a whirlwind as he slipped on his sneakers, grabbed his brown leather bomber jacket and flew out the door with keys and phone in hand. Along the way out he grabbed his badge and looped it around his neck.

Andrea was in the hospital and she was in bad shape.

The next few moments were a blur. The detective drove fast, his anxiety levels high after hearing what the nurses over the phone had told him. The girl had shown up, bloody and beaten, carried in the arms of a man who had stumbled across her on the street. She was screaming for them to call him and wanted nobody to touch her. Apparently she struggled so much that they had to sedate her.

The whole way, as he drove, Jorge could think of only their last conversation. She was so angry, so frustrated at the world because of the cross she had to bear. In her process of railing against everyone, she even grew angry at him. They left each other just a little angry and cross over their conflicting beliefs. But all that flew out the window as he drove, swerving in and out of traffic in order to get to her. Whatever the case was, she needed his help and, as usual, he was going to be there.

Once at the hospital Jorge stormed through the halls, dressed in sneakers, his Miami Dolphin’s sweatpants and a black shirt, over which he wore his brown, cracked leather jacket. It was not until he found a particular nurse that was looking for him that he was finally led to the doctor who showed him to her room.

“We had to sedate her and take her into surgery immediately.”

“What happened? Were there any witnesses?” Jorge asked, the cop tone in his voice.

“Only the man who brought her in. He said that she came stumbling out into the road, bleeding, exhausted and crying. But he didn’t get anything else from her. He left just a little while ago.”

“I want his name and information. I’m going to need to follow up with him. What about her?” he asked with concern as he moved quickly through the halls.

“She’ll live, but she had a rough night. Those…snake things in her hair. Many of them were severed, her shoulder was pierced and her ankle was broken. On top of that, many nicks, cuts and gashes. What we were worried most about was the bloodloss. She’s…extremely lucky to be alive right now. We have her on fluids and some pain medication, so she will be a little groggy.”

Jorge nodded. As he passed the nurse’s station, he spied a pair of sunglasses that were dangling from one of the women’s hands as she made ready to leave for the night. While she giggled and joked with her friend, the detective snatched the glasses from her. Before she could protest, he flashed his badge and gave her only a single warning look. That immediately silenced her as he stormed on until he reached her room.

Giving the doctor a thankful nod, Jorge took a breath as he gently knocked on the edge of the door frame and walked in. His heart immediately sank when he saw her tiny frame on the bed, bandaged and hooked up to many tubes. Instantly he closed his eyes, trying to keep his sadness and his anger down. He wanted to know what happened and if someone did this to her, they were indeed going to pay for it.

“Andrea,” he called out softly. “It’s Detective Cervantes. I…got here as quick as I could,” he muttered as she edged closer to the bed. “Honey, can you hear me?” He asked, keeping the glasses in hand in case she needed them. Obviously she did not have hers. The last thing he needed was to be petrified right now.

For some reason, all of the little holes on the ceiling were really rather interesting... Each panel of whatever it was that made up the grid above her was proliferated with little holes. Like someone had spent an entire afternoon tossing darts up.

She wanted darts. That would be fun... and went compared to being strapped to a bed, a merciful release from boredom. She felt Sloth twitch at her side and tilted her chin down to see him. He had twitched a few times.. but never stirred. Her fingers, which had been stuffed into uniform latex gloves stroked the snakes scales absently, and she let her eyes fall across the room to the window on the other side. It was still dark out. Pitch black with the room's lights reflecting back at her on the inside of the window. A small chair caught her attention, or rather, the red coat folded up neatly upon it.

She was going to need another one of those! Having lost buttons, stitches, and pockets it was already more than a little ragged.. but now it was covered in dark red blotches and had a few nicely sized stab wounds. Just like her. The thought made her giggle, because, well, now at least she had a partner in the mauling! Never mind the fact that it was a coat, and couldn't sympathizer with her... she didn't mind at the moment. Something glinted from atop the coat and the Greek squinted to see what it was. She recognized the blade after a moment, and her shoulder throbbed painfully. Ah... the painkillers were probably wearing off.

She had actually kind of forgotten about that wound. Latex covered fingers reached up at peeled away the hospital gown they had dressed her in. Her shoulder was sore to the touch, and a little spot of blood had managed to see through the bandages wrapped from mid arm, to her collar bone. Despite the severity of her injuries and the pain they still caused her, she found herself snickering again, and dropped her hand back to her lap. ...She was naked under her gown! Andrea heard the doorknob to her room wiggle, and instinctively latched onto her bed sheets- drawing them up to her chin. She turned her eyes away in case it happened to be a nurse, some part of what Hunter has told her some time ago floating back. If she looked at his chin, or the wall off to the side, she wouldn't need glasses!

She would look awfully shifty, though... “Andrea, It’s Detective Cervantes. I…got here as quick as I could, Honey, can you hear me?” Things clinked into place a little slowly, and she found herself asking who Mr. Cervantes was... A doctor? She put a voice to a face, then connected the face to the card in her coat pocket and smiled. It was Jorge! He had come in response to her forcing a nurse to call, which, by her currently doped up standards, meant that he did not hate her because of the things she had said the last time they had met. yay! She found it really hard not to look at him, and had to forced herself to remain still as he came up beside her bed.

"Jorge... Forgive me for not being able to greet you properly.. I am a little sedated at the moment." She snickered again, and stroked Sloths still body. Having another person in the room made her feel ten times better. "I really must stop meeting you like this, you know? Maybe next time I can make you cookies." She paused, wrinkling her nose at her own words. "No... wait, never mind. I am a terrible baker..." She wanted to glance at him, see what he was looking at from the expression on his face... but she restrained herself. She didn't rightly know what type of mess she was, but she could recall hearing nursed talk about her before she had been sedated.

".... Am I a horrible mess?"

>> "Jorge... Forgive me for not being able to greet you properly.. I am a little sedated at the moment…I really must stop meeting you like this, you know? Maybe next time I can make you cookies…No... wait, never mind. I am a terrible baker..."

Oh yeah…they definitely gave her the good stuff, Jorge thought as he sadly looked down at the shy faced Andrea.

He knew why she was not looking at him and even why she had her eyes so tightly closed. It was because her look, her gaze could petrify anyone who looked her in the eyes. He had seen it happen back when he met her at the mall, that was why she wore the sunglasses. Sadly, he could see her glasses here in this room. She must have been quite the sight, screaming for him to called by the nurses and yet keeping her eyes as tightly closed as she could. The only thing that helped was that she was soon sedated and knocked off to sleep. That should have at least spared some problems.

Grabbing a nearby chair, Jorge pulled it close to the side of the bed and carefully sat by the young mutants side. As he inspected her he saw a sight that made him run cold. There were only little nubs all over her head and from those he knew he saw several snakes from the last time. Someone had actually cut off several of her snakes! Jorge’s mind tried to process the type of monster that could do that. But that was not all, she was a veritable map of injuries.

Sloth, the giant snake that always looked at him with such interest was stretched out by her side, also bandaged up and seemed to be barely alive. Her ankle was bandaged up, looking like that had to be worked on as well, there was a bloody gauze on her shoulder that indicated where the knife wound had been. Thrown into the mix were several tiny cuts and scratches as well as bruises all over her green skin.

Jorge could have never imagined all this for her.

>> ".... Am I a horrible mess?"

With a sigh, Jorge looked at her closed eyes before he reached out and very gently touched brushed some wisps of hair from her cheek. It was done in a such a fatherly way that Jorge didn’t intend it, but there it was.

“Nah, you look beautiful,” he said with an attempted smile. Instead though, all he felt was anger that something like this could happen to her.

Jorge took this as a personal failure. The girl was injured, she could have died and it might have all been because he was not there to keep her safe. But the detective knew better than that. He knew that he could not be everywhere at once. He knew that Andrea was a young woman who was perfectly capable to taking care of herself and he was not even a relation. Then why did he care so much? Why did it pull at his heart to see the young woman so badly beaten and bandaged up?

It was because he was good cop. Even after working this job for so long and still he took cases like this to heart…it just meant he was doing what he should.

Carefully holding up a pair of sunglasses, he reached over, spoke soothingly and gently slipped them over Andrea’s eyes.

“These were donated from the nursing station.” he smiled as he made sure they were secure on her face. Sitting back he sighed as he looked her over. “Andrea…as hard as this is…I need to know what happened. When you can talk about it…”

A tired grin slipped onto her lips and she flashed teeth stained red with blood at the wall. "Thanks... I feel like poop though."

His weight leaned against her bed and a few seconds later she felt something slip across the bridge of her nose and her temples. Cracking an eye open, she noticed that the world was colored a pleasant shade of brown. After waiting for him to finish tinkering with them, she turned her chin and grin his way. It was nice to see a familiar face.... but now she felt guilty. She had thrown such a fit the last time they had talked. Like a child. She didn't want to be a child anymore...

“These were donated from the nursing station. Andrea…as hard as this is…I need to know what happened. When you can talk about it…”

"Thank you... they make the you look tan... tanner.... you need a shave, Jorge." It was true! She could see stubble on his chin. He also looked really tired... she must have woken him up. "I am sorry for being such a brat, Jorge. I am just confused about so many things lately... like why they took all my clothes. It is drafty in here!" Giggling deliriously, what he had said ticked at the back of her mind and she wrinkled her nose. Talk about what had happened? She could do that... she just needed to remember all of it first.

"Someone ran me over..." She paused, blinked, and shook her head. "No, wait, I mean ran into me... while I was walking." That was what had happened.. right? ...Yes. If she thought about it hard enough, she could even remember what he smelled like! Nothing good, sadly. "I wanted to help him, because I am a good person... and he was bleeding. Then... " Her brows knitted together, and she frowned gently. "... someone else was there. I ran... back to the chapel." She could feel the pain killer induced happiness starting to ebb away, but nothing arose to replace it. It was oddly comforting to be empty of feelings.

"I broke into a church...... sorry... and got attacked by a lion."

>> "Thank you... they make the you look tan... tanner.... you need a shave, Jorge…I am sorry for being such a brat, Jorge. I am just confused about so many things lately... like why they took all my clothes. It is drafty in here!"

Her comment caused a small smile to rolled across his face. “I promise, next time we have a date like this, I’ll shave just for you.” He sighed as he reached over and smoothed her blankets a little that were hanging off the edge. “Don’t you worry about your clothes. I’m sure they have them somewhere. If not, we can get you some.”

He tried to sound positive. He really did but seeing her like this…it simply broke his heart.

Jorge could only smirk a little, though his eyes still remained sad. He really did not like seeing the usually very quiet and shy Andrea like this. She was drugged up, she looked confused and simply her body was bandaged so much she could have doubled for Karloff in “The Mummy”. It really just ached his heart to see the young woman like this. She may not have been his relation, but the simple fact that he had gotten to save her twice, made her his responsibility.

Especially because this was one time that he was not there to protect her. Look what happened. Look what was done to her. It was a cruel world, just slightly crueler than Jorge wanted it to be.

With tension, he asked her what had happened. He did not want to push or rush her into anything but he wanted to take down whoever had done this. The quicker he got the ball rolling, the better. Irritated that he forgot his pen and paper, though, Jorge sighed as he turned and began to listen as intently as he could. He would remember the information and relate it back to the office.

>> "Someone ran me over...No, wait, I mean ran into me... while I was walking…I wanted to help him, because I am a good person... and he was bleeding. Then... someone else was there. I ran... back to the chapeI. I broke into a church...... sorry... and got attacked by a lion."

Jorge paused as he simply sat there listening to her story in-between giggles and mild smirks. Did she really just say she was attacked by a Lion? It should not have sounded all that strange to him. After all, they were in New York, he could manipulate water and she had green skin and (used to have) snakes in her hair! So what was so strange about running into a lion in New York? Could have gotten loose from the zoo, or been a mutant, or who knows? But, there was something about the fact that she was drugged that still bothered him.

Was that really the story? Or was she piecing together a history from random lucid fragments in her mind? Jorge really wished that he knew.

He pulled his chair up closer as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Gently he reached over and patted her arm.

“Andrea, I…” he really did not know where to begin. It sounded strange, probably fueled by her pain killers. But…maybe if he could have her tell him again, she would repeat some facts that he could write done. Something had to be true in there. “Okay, Andrea, I need you to take a small breath, then tell me again what happened. Do you remember the name of the church? Any street names? Was it a real lion…or a mutant?”

He prayed she would be more lucid this time. But it didn’t matter. He would stay by her side all night if he had to until he got the facts, and hopefully offer some comfort at the same time.

She nodded, smiling back, and relaxed back onto her pillow. Her scalp was kind of starting to hurt. Kind of like how her head had always throbbed before the snakes existed. "They put my coat over there." Lifting a finger, she pointed off to the corner. "But I think I am going to get a new one. That one is ruined..."

The thought sent her off on a little mental shopping trip, wondering about what kind of coat she would buy, and how it would look on her. She wiggled her toes under her blankets, or tried to at least... and noticed for the first time the wrapping around her ankle. They had bound it tight enough that she could wiggle her pinky toe, but nothing else. The experience of how she had gotten it drifted back to her. Her attention returned to the present, and to Jorge as he uttered her name. ..ha!... Utter. “Okay, Andrea, I need you to take a small breath, then tell me again what happened. Do you remember the name of the church? Any street names? Was it a real lion…or a mutant?”

She nodded mutely, her smile slowly fading, and took a deep breath. He was an officer, and part of the reason she had wanted him here was to tell him the story. Really, when she had been carried into the hospital she had figured she was going to bleed to death in the guys arms. She hadn't really expected to survive... or be awake enough to recount the tale this soon. She needed to start over... from the beginning, and fill him in as best she could. "...Saint Joseph's chapel." She started, bringing to life the memories in her mind. "... I stayed late to pray, until the priest needed to leave...." She could hear his voice, worriedly asking her if she wanted a ride. She would need to check in with him as soon as she could. Apologize for all of the damage she left behind in her flight.

"I was walking home, and someone came out of the alley. I... can't remember street names... fifth, or seventh? It's blurry.." She shook her head and continued on, her eyes drifting over to stare out the window into the darkness beyond. "He was injured and frantic... I had to help him. He said someone was after him and... and.." She drifted into memory, the hospital room vanishing around her. She felt the man shudder and claw at her. Felt him buckle. Saw the blood. Andrea shuddered. "He... died... I think. There was another man, in the alley. I was so frightened that I just..."

She knew she should have been ashamed, but she still felt nothing. "... I went back to the chapel because I thought I would be safe there. I had to climb in through a window in the back because the priest had locked everything up." The events playing back in her head shot forward, past the game of cat and mouse... past the darkness and growling of the lion man. She felt her foot twitch as she replayed the breaking of her ankle. Felt her shoulder throb as she replayed the knife biting into he chest... She shuddered again. The darkness beyond the mirror started to take shape. Dirty golden fur, angry eyes... fearsome teeth.

She dragged her eyes away, back to Jorge, before the figure fully materialized, and stared at him silently for a few moments. "He was a lion... but only partly. He had the body of a man, and the head of a cat." She would have giggled. But she felt oddly empty. ".... I do not want to be alone, Jorge... He wanted to eat me." She stated it plainly, with just a hint of fear in her voice.

It took a second but it finally seemed as if Andrea was going to focus and trying to get out everything that she had gone through. Jorge was still in whirlwind as he tried to figure out what could have happened to her. Was it anti-mutant group members? An ex-lover? Did she just fall off of a building? Jorge simply could not figure it out. Whatever it was, it really seemed as if she had gone through complete and utter hell. Who ever had caused it, though, he was going to make sure that they paid for it.

When Andrea started to get lucid enough to repeat the whole story to him, he took out his cell phone and slipped into the Text Messaging feature. He did not have his usual pen and paper but he could at least send himself a message that had whatever important fact she could give him.

It was only when she finally began to go over her story that his blood truly ran cold…

>> "...Saint Joseph's chapel... I stayed late to pray, until the priest needed to leave...I was walking home, and someone came out of the alley. I... can't remember street names... fifth, or seventh? It's blurry…He was injured and frantic... I had to help him. He said someone was after him and... and..He... died... I think. There was another man, in the alley. I was so frightened that I just…I went back to the chapel because I thought I would be safe there. I had to climb in through a window in the back because the priest had locked everything up…He was a lion... but only partly. He had the body of a man, and the head of a cat."

It was…it was all too much to handle at once. At that moment Jorge really began to feel for Andrea and his sympathy for her simply skyrocketed. It was just supposed to be an average night for her, that was all, and yet…this happened. She had walked into the wrong place at the wrong time, witnessed a man being killed and was pursued by a mutant with, what she described, as feline abilities.

What was it, like, the absolute worst night for this girl? It was almost as if she had just stepped outside under a bad omen and was cursed! The series of wrongs that followed each other this night was…just horrible. First to witness a man die before her eyes, then to attacked by the man who had killed him, who just happened to be a mutant as well? What were the odds? And of course the church, the place that was this young woman’s sanctuary, had nearly become her tomb! It was…he was surprised she was lucid at all, even with the painkillers pumping through her system.

Jorge had clicked and typed in as many notes as he could into his text message. Of course that is not the best place to record information. But it would suffice for now. Once he was sure that Andrea was finished, he sent himself the message to save it on his phone and snapped it closed. He was going to need to call the precinct right now in order to get a team over there to check the place, as well as get whoever this guy was identified. He could get someone to search the databases right now…

Just as he was about to stand and excuse himself to start his phone calls, he caught that whisper of a breath from Andrea.

>> .... I do not want to be alone, Jorge... He wanted to eat me."

He caught that fear instantly and smiled as soothingly as he could as he pulled his chair up so that he was directly next to her bed. Leaning he patted her arm as he tucked his cell phone once more into his pocket.

“Hey, sshh, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere…” he beamed through the haggard look in his face. Even though the man had been woken out of a dead sleep to come see her, he looked dead set on not leaving. Instead he turned his chair a bit so he could keep an eye on the door and sat back in his seat. He looked comfortable and yet ready to spring into action. “See? He’s not going to come in here.” He nodded, his eyes looking sad again for having not kept her from harm. “I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

She glances toward the door, her eye lids drooping a little, and nodded slowly. Her arms curled across her ribs, fingers clasping together loosely, and she turned her eyes back up to the ceiling. "...thank you..." He was going to stay with her. It helped to put her mind at ease. "I know you wont. I trust you.... Like Saphirus. I trust him too. He would have stopped that man.... he would have saved the other one.. too." She yawned, blinking as a wave of sleepiness washed over her. A nap seemed like a good idea... with Jorge sitting next to her, keeping a watch on the door. She let her eyes slip closed and sighed. Sleeping would make everything go away...

...She was home again. Looking out her window, smiling down on a yard full of friends. Everything was the same as it had been the time before, but there was no sound. She could see birds dancing in the sky... she could see lips moving... someone was laughing.... but everything was mute. She couldn't hear anything. Her window sill was cold under her fingers... she felt her snakes wiggle in her hair. The familiarity of the scene was shattered by Sloth curling tighter around her neck, nearly to the point of cutting off her air.... but she didn't choke... She stumbled back, watching as her room darkened until the window was it's only source of light, and then that began to fade too...

Andrea twitched in her sleep. Her face portraying the confusion that her dream self couldn't. Her chin turned, face pressed into the pillow sideways, and she whispered in her home language sleepily. She muttered names... all of the faces that she had seen.

Darkness came at her from every corner until all she could see was her hand set out before her. Reaching for where the window had once been. Something rumbled and the world pitched, sending her reeling to the side within the darkness. A sinister chuckle ripped though the silence and her heart stopped beating for a split second. The nose of a great cat parted from the darkness, followed by a grinning maw... and a pair of golden eyes. A large tongue flicked out, running across those fearsome teeth, and another chuckle shook her to the bone.

She stepped back and felt herself fall, tripping over the edge of a concealed ledge. She watched the grinning Lion slowly shrink in size as she plummeted down....

(One nap later...)

When she opened her eyes again, her heart gave a little jump and she twitched involuntarily. Her chin jerked to the side and her gasped. The brown tinted room came into focus and she realized that she was in the hospital bed, and that the lights were on. Lion man wasn't there, and she wasn't falling... She gasped in a small breath to clam herself, and pressed a hand over her heart. Sometime during her nap someone had come in and given her another dose of painkillers... because she felt a little giddy, and like jello. She realized that the first time she woke up, she must have slept through most of the side effects.

"...Jorge?" She felt a little panicked, but her voice was heavy and thick. She sounded like she was still sleeping... or heavily intoxicated. Her nose wrinkled accordingly.

>> "...thank you...I know you won’t. I trust you.... Like Saphirus. I trust him too. He would have stopped that man.... he would have saved the other one.. too."

Jorge was quiet as he watched the young mutant drift off to sleep. It was apparently much needed, especially after everything she said she went through that night. To witness the death of a man was one thing, but to then be chased down by the lion mutant who had killed him was quite another to have to deal with by yourself. Though he had only met Andrea a few times, he really got a fairly good assumption of her personality. She was quiet, shy, reserved, and she’s seen a lot of tragedy in her life. This experience would only add onto the stress of all that’s she’s gone through so far.

But could she handle it? Jorge really didn’t know. It would be a situation that could fall either way. Either she would cope with what occurred and learn to live her life again, or she would let it consume her. He prayed it would not be the latter. He’d seen too many people go downhill because they simply refused to live their lives after their survival.

Andrea was too sweet and nice for that to occur to her.

Once she was asleep, he began to make the calls. He contacted the precinct with whatever information Andrea had given him. The name of the church was a good start, at least to verify her story. He hoped that was not made up. The rest of the time, though, Jorge simply paced the room in an attempt to contact whoever he could. He filed the report over the phone, spoke with dispatch, even tried to reach Ashton on his cell if he were available to look into this himself. Unfortunately the man either had his phone off or was simply not answering.

Can’t really blame him. Almost three o’clock in the morning, Jorge thought to himself as he continued his pacing.

But between the pacing and the phone calls, Jorge simply sat with Andrea at her bedside, keeping an eye on the door as he promised and moving away only when the nurses needed to come in and change her IVs.

Jorge watched sadly as Andrea tossed and turned in her sleep, obviously shaken up by some unknown dreams. The experience really must have been traumatic for her and if this “Lion Man” was indeed real, Jorge was going to hunt him down himself. Though it may seem like a clash of interests the detective really didn’t care. He was going to find this man and make him pay for what he had done: for each bruise, each scratch, each and every snake cut.

Then again, this would not simply be for her. According to her description, the man was an absolute animal. He could, would not let someone that dangerous roam around the streets unchecked. If he could do such a thing to Andrea, whose physical mutation would startle and scare off most people, then he could only imagine what the monster would do to anyone else. As he thought about his, Jorge’s head began to loll peacefully to the side, sleep wanting to over take him since his own was interrupted by the call from the hospital.

One yawn…two yawns…and Jorge slowly began to close his eyes…

Suddenly AC/DC’s Highway to Hell screamed out of his cell phone, which jolted Jorge awake. Looking around momentarily confused, Jorge climbed out of his seat and went to stand by the doorway as he answered the call.

“Detective Cervantes, here. Tell me you have something,” Jorge said quietly.

Slowly the blood began to sap away from his face as he listened to the investigator on the other line. Apparently the squad cars showed up and found the church in absolute shambles, just as Andrea had described it. Pews were destroyed, fixtures were broken, it was just chaotic. But worst of all, was that there was another body to add to the list. The cops had found the first body that Andrea had described and they were currently in the process of identifying him, but there was a second one she, apparently, didn’t know about…the priest at the church.

>> “…Jorge?”

Turning his attention back, Jorge told the man on the other end of the line to keep him informed ad proceeded to return to Andrea’s bed side. She looked just slightly panicked. It must have been whatever those dreams were. He smiled sympathetically as he came back and resumed his vigilant seat by her side.

“Hey Andrea, I’m still here,” he said softly, deciding it would be best to keep the news of the priest’s death from her until she was better able to handle it. “How are you feeling? You need anything else from the nurses?”

She spotted him, and relaxed. She wasn't falling... and she wasn't alone. There were little pin prickles behind her eyes and she sniffled pathetically.

“How are you feeling? You need anything else from the nurses?”

She nodded, then paused, and shook her head. Yes, she was alright.. for the most part, no she didn't think she needed anything just yet. "They gave me more stuff, didn't they?... It feels like I am thinking very slowly." And moving very slowly, now that she tried to push her blankets down. "...I dreamed that I fell... and-" Her eyes focused across the room to the dagger on her coat. "...he was there."

Andrea struggled to push herself up into a sitting position, feeling mostly numb all over, but succeeded in the end. She set about poking gently at her head again, before letting her hand fall back onto sloth. Who still hadn't stirred. "I kept the knife he stabbed me with... it is over there... on my coat." She pointed with her chin, too sluggish to raise her arm again. Looking at it again brought back memories... which she promptly ignored. "I wanted to keep it." Painkillers were such wonderful, merciful things...

Maybe she could get some to go, when she left. Oh... that was another problem. "Um...Jorge?... I may have... another problem." Her face screwed up in thought, and she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. Or tried to, at least. It felt more like she was fumbling with sand filled rubber gloves, than hands. She didn't know exactly what to say, without fully giving away her not-quite-a-citizen status. Again, she found herself wondering how the kindly cop would react to it... or how he would be forced to react to it, because of his job. "I do not...exactly.. um.." She blinked, and grabbed for words.

"...have insurance." She knew a few things about the American medical system, but not enough to put her worries at ease. "... I know that there is an Infirmary back home, but I do not know how I will pay for all of ...this." She gestured to the tubes stuck in her and the bandages, and stared at her blanket covered knees.

>> "They gave me more stuff, didn't they?... It feels like I am thinking very slowly…I dreamed that I fell... and...he was there."

Jorge frowned as Andrea began describe that she had dreamt about that man who had attacked her. He was not in the least surprised but still it was tragic to hear. He didn’t want her to have to struggle with this type of issue the rest of her life. Then again, she did survive and survivors of something this horrible could slip into post-traumatic stress disorder. He prayed that it would not get that bad. He could not stand to watch the young, Greek mutant fall so hard.

He nodded though as he took his seat next to her. “The nurses came in, gave you a fresh batch of pain-killers. The drugs might by what’s making you dream so much. When you’re ready to get off of them, I’m sure that the dreams will stop too,” he said with a smile as he reached over to pat her arm.

At least I pray to god that’s what it is, he thought to himself as he situated himself in his chair more comfortably.

>> "I kept the knife he stabbed me with... it is over there... on my coat…I wanted to keep it."

The detective eyed the coat, little realizing that she had a knife in there. So it belonged to the man who attacked her? Unfortunately as much as a souvenir as she would have “enjoyed” that to be, Jorge knew that it was impossible. They needed to get that item dusted and checked out. There could be something in there that could lead them to the psycho that did this.

But before he told her that he had to claim that knife, she decided to reveal something else…

>> "Um...Jorge?... I may have... another problem…I do not...exactly.. um...have insurance... I know that there is an Infirmary back home, but I do not know how I will pay for all of ...this."

There was another small smile on his face. To be honest he had been anticipating that remark. He doubted that Andrea really had the insurance or the stand alone money to pay for a hospital bill like this. But…was that really all she was going to say? He eyed her briefly, curiously, because it really did sound like she wanted to say something else. Maybe she had a few more secrets that was getting close to revealing to him. He wouldn’t push her. She would talk when she was ready.

Until then he could only offer a small smile and shook his head.

“You don’t worry about that right now, okay?” he said with friendly authority. “You leave that to me. We’ll figure it out, I promise. You need to get yourself well.”

She nodded mutely, not looking away from the knife on her coat. "I do not like feeling like this. It is... frustrating." She hoped that whatever it was they had her on was not something she needed for a length amount of time, but would wait until she got home to question the doctors about it. People at the sanctuary had a habit of not asking questions, or simply not caring. Andrea had become a fan of it wholeheartedly.

The dreams were another matter entirely though. One she understood well enough. Her short time spend with Aura had shown her that seeing something horrible would always be ingrained in your memory... It had taken a lot of time for the nightmares from that event had stopped, and she had only been slightly involved. "...I hope so, but I do not intend to run from this. Running has only gotten me into trouble so far..." She turned her face to him finally, and managed a muted smile.

"You were right you know... about a lot of the things we talked about. It is silly of me to cling to something I believed before coming here... I have changed much since then." Changed... and possibly reverted back again. She felt very much like the frightened mouse she had been when she stepped off the boat.

Only now she didn't desire to run anymore. "I am sorry for losing my temper... You were only trying to help me." She tried to smile, a true smile, and only ended up grinning goofily. It was a good thing that she couldn't see herself.

“You don’t worry about that right now, okay? You leave that to me. We’ll figure it out, I promise. You need to get yourself well.”

She nodded, again, but his words didn't help to alleviate her stress. She didn't wish to push her problems on Jorge, not without him at least knowing the full story behind it all. "Jorge... I-" She paused, then shut her mouth. He had a lot on his plate already... she had basically just told him that there was a killer on the loose, and where to find one if his victims. She'd wait and tell him about her legal status later.. "...I appreciate that you are here for me. I hope it is not, um... inappropriate of me to say that... I think of you like a father." No... even more than a father. A true friend. Laying back again, she clasped her hands over her stomach and closed her eyes. She was starting to feel sleepy again... like a nap would be glorious.

"I will be better in no time, you will see." She smiled, and nodded off again.