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[gospel-of-mary.insanejournal.com]

WHO: Mary & Huitzilopotchli
WHEN: Wednesday night
WHERE: An unnamed street outside an unnamed bar
WHAT: Ex-lovers having their first run in.
WARNINGS: tba

Mary wasn't sure of how the term 'cold as hell' had become a thing. Even to those not involved in the Christian way of things knew the basic that Hell was pretty damn hot and fiery. Nevertheless, as Mary stood outside the bar in her barely there dress, smoking a pilfered cigarette, all that she kept thinking was, it's as fucking cold as hell right now.

She'd left her coat inside but didn't feel like facing the bar again just yet. It was just a room full of men she didn't want to deal with. It was a room full of men she knew she'd eventually pick someone from to fuck and make rent.

Sometimes Mary missed her job at the police station, but she'd been no good at that. She was too flighty, too insubstantial as a person to hold down anything for very long. Even in Judea she'd been famous for walking around the country following some guy. No wonder it was all she was good at now.

She let a tendril of smoke escape over her lip, spiraling up into the night sky where she knew stars existed but could never see them. Cities were depressing like that. She didn't know how anyone could believe in God while living in a maze of cement boxes and neon lights.

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[bluehummingbird.insanejournal.com]

The winter made him lazier then the warmer months did. Despite the lack of snow, the chill still bit at him. Not that he minded. Getting used to the cold would only mean he'd gotten used to this country, rather then his homeland. He didn't want that.

But he still went out now and again, to prowl the streets in search of prey and blood. He had a steady supply, but the conqueror in him wanted more. He had patience and time though. Twenty souls already whispered his name under their breath, and the control he had over his neighborhood was iron clad. He'd learned to target the younger ones to draw him to his service.

A slow progress, but a satisfying one.

He'd heard the bar before he'd seen it. Crowded and dank, and not a place he'd visit. The cigarettes would bother him and he never liked being around that many people. Mortals got on his nerves.

The figure outside got his attention though and he stopped. He hadn't seen Mary since Valentines and despite how Xochipili had left he could not regret his actions. He missed her though.

He could leave now and not open that door, but he'd never been a coward. He still had to return her things anyway. "Mary."

[gospel-of-mary.insanejournal.com]

The sound of her name drew Mary out of her thoughts of the city and she turned her head, surprised. She didn't give her name to anyone tonight.

But it wasn't anyone. It was the one man who walked this planet who could knock the breath from her lungs and make her beg. It had almost been a year since she'd seen him, a year of feeling empty and worthless and alone.

He was standing right in front of her and Mary still wasn't over him.

"Hummingbird," Mary said after the pause of just staring at him had lengthened to deeply uncomfortable. Her voice sounded tight even to her own ears. One hand had moved behind her as she'd watched him, finding the support of the wall.

[bluehummingbird.insanejournal.com]

He read her body language and assumed she felt threatened. He noticed many things, but not always the subtleties of life. He always saw violence or death, it was what he was.

He fought between relaxing and not. She'd never seen him for what he was, always looked at part of him and not the whole. And despite what he still felt, his pride still held sway too. In a compromise to himself he set his hands in front of him. Maybe she'd see that for what it was, maybe she wouldn't.

He was never sure on how to act around her. And he wasn't a god to deal with eggshells. Even now he switched between watching her and the bar, unsure what the protocol for these types of things were.

"I suppose this is where I ask how you have been?"

[gospel-of-mary.insanejournal.com]

Mary wanted to move towards him and she almost did, leaning away from that wall and towards him, like a string tied through her every sinew pulled her towards him. She could remember how warm he was, how on the cold nights she'd draw closer to him, how he'd put his arms around her, how he smelled like-

This wasn't okay. She needed to make herself stop.

"Not great," Mary said to him. She'd been going to lie, to say she'd been great, but it had just come out. "You look-" she'd been going to say really good but managed to bite it back. "well," she settled on.

[bluehummingbird.insanejournal.com]

She looked cold and he wanted to offer his warmth the way he used to do. But the way he used to be wasn't who he truly was. He'd always been different around her, not truly the God he knew himself to be. And he couldn't turn back from that.

He still missed it though, having a companion. But he knew what he wanted now, not the quiet promise of something similar to a shadow.

"I am sorry. I will help if I can." Her comment made him tilt his head and he moved into the light so he could see her properly. "I've been expanding. Young warriors know my name now. It's a start." If he couldn't go back home, he'd make one here, through blood and war.

[gospel-of-mary.insanejournal.com]

"That's good," Mary said, not really able to focus much on what he was actually saying right now. He was still so beautiful, so hard and strong and-

I've missed you so much, was all she wanted to say. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his chest. She wanted to kiss him and feel his body pressed against her.

But Huitzilopotchli had left her. Huitzilopotchli had made her fall in love with him and then abandoned her back into the world.

"This is awkward," Mary finally admitted.

[bluehummingbird.insanejournal.com]

"Rather." He should go. Focus on his hunt and his war and leave her in his past. Opening old wounds would not to anyone any good. Least of all the both of them.

"I have your things. I do not know where to send them." Then again, it may be she didn't want him to know where she was anymore. He could understand that one. "If you tell me I will give them back to you."

"Then I will go. I do not wish this to be more uncomfortable then it needs to be." He'd always enjoyed the clean cuts or deaths more. Lingering deaths were not something he enjoyed, and this reminded him of that.

[gospel-of-mary.insanejournal.com]

"Oh," Mary blinked. "My things... I forgot. Yeah, I can, um, I can give you my address." She'd forgotten leaving everything. It had been stupid of her to move in with him, but at the time it seemed like nothing could separate them. In the end it had been too easy to do.

He said he'd go and Mary said, suddenly, "No," reaching out to grab his hand but then thought better of it, the gesturing hanging in mid-air. "I mean, you don't have to-" She sighed, knowing she was making a fool of herself. "I'm sorry. This is-" she licked her lips, too dry, and then looked at him. "I've missed you."

[bluehummingbird.insanejournal.com]

He smiled at her, the smile she'd taught him, "I know. I miss you too." He watched her hand but did not take it. "But I cannot go back. Being only a part of what I am, it is not good. If I forget who I am, others will do the same. I have lost too much for that to happen." Perhaps he wasn't a great person for putting his own interests over her, but he'd never said he was very good.

"I'll tell my people where to go." He looked to the bar, then her. "Do you wish to go in?" Catching up wouldn't be bad. He hoped. It would scratch at some wounds, but he'd missed their conversations too. She had interesting ideas.

"Xochipili is gone." He figured he owed her that much, considering.

[gospel-of-mary.insanejournal.com]

It hurt Mary so much to hear that and she forced a smile, telling herself that if she dared to start crying right now she'd find some way to punish herself for it. (A hollow threat - when was Mary not punishing herself for something?) So she just nodded a little as her response, because she was worried her voice would betray her.

Mary looked to the bar and frowned, looking back at Huitzilopotchli with uncertainty. "Raincheck?" she offered. "I can't-" she shook her head a little and looked down at the ground, brow furrowed and hair falling across her face. "I just can't yet."

Xochipili. The one he'd left her for. Mary wanted to ask how it had happened, if he was hurting, if it had been long ago. But instead she just said, "I'm sorry." She didn't really mean it, but it felt like the thing to say.

[bluehummingbird.insanejournal.com]

"So am I." He'd given it a try at any rate. He kept giving his heart to people just not right enough for him. Maybe he'd find the Serpent and ask Quetzalcoatl how all this was supposed to go.

He stepped back and let out a long sigh. This was painful and awkward and he'd rather be somewhere else. "It was good seeing you. If you desire," he paused then, "aid or your things just follow the hummingbirds. They will lead you to me." He meant the painted ones, but didn't think to point that out.

He went to walk past her, unsure of everything and feeling that jab of pain again. He didn't much enjoy it.

[gospel-of-mary.insanejournal.com]

"Thanks," she whispered with a small nod, wrapping her arms around herself. She wanted to stop him, but what was the use? He'd already said he wouldn't go back, wouldn't touch her again.

And so she let him go, hating this discovering that she was still in love with him.