Nothing's Sacred

Who: Brian and Mya
When: 6am
Where: Mya's Diner

Mya pulled up to the diner at about five to six, cup of coffee resting nicely in the holder next to her. For the first time in a long time she hadn't had to pull as many long days at the diner and the extra sleep was nice, however a tad annoying to get used to. Her body didn't seem to want to come back awake in the mornings as quickly anymore. She was a bit early still, not supposed to be there until seven, when Domino showed up for his shift so she could take some time to catch up on some of the paper work she'd been too busy to get to in the past month and a half.

As Mya climbed out of the car she stretched, her white blouse untucked from her black slacks slightly and had to be corrected before she grabbed her coffee from inside the vehicle. Slowly Mya walked to the front door of the Diner, for a moment she dreamed of the day she'd first laid eyes on it, how cute, quaint and full of potential she'd seen it. Her dream bubble was burst quickly when she saw the pictures.

From inside the Diner the night staff heard the sound of something break outside and when she went to investigate they saw Mya standing before one of the pictures, her shoes wet with the coffee that had once been in the broken cup at her feet. The server who'd been working the nights the longest, Phillip, walked over to his boss and tried to see if she was ok, but Mya just seemed frozen in time, stuck in her own head... or the image she was gazing at. Phil had to break away from the image himself, not having noticed them go up. He couldn't seem to get her to respond to him so he quickly ran inside to call Brian. It was his day off, but he -was- the other boss, so he might know what to do. So he dialed the phone and waited.

Brian woke with a start at the sound of the phone and lunged off the bed in a half-awake attempt to get to the phone. He wound up on the floor, bad knee twisted painfully and a stream of profanity running through his head, but he did get the phone. "What?" he demanded, sounding pained.

"Hey Brian, sorry to wake you, it's Phil from the Diner. I think you should get down here right away... it's Mya... she's... not moving." Phil said, the words came out almost as one until the end when he had problems figuring out what to tell Brian.

"Not moving?" Okay, that would have meant any number of things, but even half-awake he was sure if it was most of those things, Phil would have dialed 911 rather than him, and he would've said something different. But if it was Mya and she was in trouble of any kind, he was going to be there as soon as he could. He'd just not be there with visions of comatose or bleeding Mya chasing them around in his head. "I'll be right there."

And he hung up, swearing some more-- out loud this time-- before hauling himself out of bed and limping painfully in the direction of his clothes. Five minutes later-- he actually speeded for perhaps the first time in his life, and ignored the goddamn knee's continued protesting-- he was pulling up at the diner.

By the time Brian had arrived Mya had snapped out of her stupor and was practically attacking the windows. "This is a safe place, how dare they?" She yelled as she tore off the pictures. "When I get my hands on the person who did this-" Mya had tears streaming down her face. How -dare- someone corrupt the diner? It was a safe place, a peaceful place, a place of hope and laughter. It was -not- someplace to post violent images with a warning that would only due to frighten people.

The two night servers stood by the door, watching Mya with a slight bit of horror.

That... was new. Brian hardly saw the pictures, he just saw Mya, hysterical in front of her diner. He'd seen her upset before, but not like that. He half-fell out of the truck, managed a few stumbles before getting his feet properly under him, and got over to her as fast as his goddamn knee would let him. "Mya?"

It was like she was in her own little world, and in that world all she saw were the images of the two dead children someone thought to kindly plaster over her Diner. "Why would somebody do this? What does it accomplish? People don't come here to see pictures of death!" She practically growled as she tore down the last sheet of paper. Her fists were clenched tightly around the handfuls, what didn't fit in her hands were littered on the ground. Mya was trembling with anger, and tears. She couldn't even think straight.

This was no good. Wonky knee or not, Brian was still stronger than Mya was. He took her by the arm and physically pulled her away from the window, towards him. "Mya," he said firmly. "Mya, look at me."

Her blue eyes looked up into his, "B-brian." She managed before loosing containment and falling into his arms.

It actually took a quick thought and surge of will to keep himself on his feet, warping air and gravity for the split second he lost his balance so they didn't wind up in a pile on the ground, but then he'd caught her, he was still standing, and he got his arms around her. He hugged her close, brushing her hair soothingly with one hand. "Shhh. Mya. We'll get them down. It'll be okay. I bet nobody's even seen them yet."

"I want them to pay." Mya said between tearful breaths. Never had Mya ever had someone deface her diner before. Since it's open it's been known as a beacon of sanctuary from a long day, a place people could go to relax over a cup of coffee and friendly conversation. Now it was tainted.

"They will," Brian promised, though he had no idea how or at whose hand. Hopefully the police's. "They will pay." He cast a significant look at the night crew to finish getting the pictures down. If he had any say in it, Mya wouldn't see a single one when he let her go, and he didn't want to have to resort to tearing them down with mind alone-- though he would, if he had to, witnesses or no witnesses. Not that he was planning on letting go any time soon, of course, so they had a minute or two.

The paper between Mya's fingers crinkled as she moved one to her head, letting the pieces fall to the ground. The ever familiar pain was creeping into her head, washing over her. With a sniff she rubbed her temple, her eyes shut tightly. She was still trembling slightly as she flittered a gaze at him. "This can't be happening here."

"We'll make it go away," Brian promised again, ducking that half-an-inch to look her right in the eyes. "We'll fix it, Mya." He could feel her tremble against his hands, noted the eyes squeezing shut and her hand coming up. Not good signs. He rubbed her arms gently, combating the trembling the way someone might combat shivering. "It'll be okay."

"I need to sit down." She said after what felt like a long moment. She couldn't let this get to her. Mya was stronger than that.

"Up in my truck," Brian told her firmly, and guided her in that very direction. Ignoring the goddamn knee some more. Because he was so taking her home, now. Someone else could cover her shift. He'd call up Domino. Hell, he'd work it himself, if he had to. ... though he hoped he wouldn't have to. "How's the head doing?" Because he had a feeling the answer was "not so good".

"I'll be ok." She lied.

"Tell me another, gorgeous," Brian said, obvious in his disbelief. "Up in the truck. We're taking you home."

"But the diner." Mya protested.

"The diner can survive a morning without you," Brian assured her, and opened the truck door for her. "In."

With a pout she got into the truck. Once seated she leaned forward, letting her head rest in her hands. "Those poor kids." She whispered softly.

Brian hadn't even gotten a good look at the pictures, but at least he'd heard the news about the kids the night before, so he wasn't totally in the dark. He looked at her a moment, struggling for something to say, before he just nodded and closed the door, coming around to his own side-- which he'd never properly closed-- and climbed in.

With the door closed Mya leaned against the window, a hand protecting her head from the glass. She let her eyes close, and the tears calm slightly. How could she let this happen? Why couldn't she have done something about it earlier? Who would do such a thing? These thoughts streamed through her head, filling her with doubt- not something good for an angel who was supposed to help alleviate that very thing in others.

What Brian really wanted to do was just hug on her some more, but he wanted her home, too, and he couldn't drive and comfort at the same time. So the driving came first. Though he did reach over for her hand once he got the big truck actually moving again.

She took his hand, and held it all the way home. She felt comfort with him being there, and knew that somehow things were going to be ok. Maybe not perfect, but at least they'd be able to move on. Still, Mya couldn't help but let part of her mind dwell on the indiscretion to her diner. It would take her a bit of time to really get over the impact of seeing those two dead bodies littered over the windows of her own personal sanctuary.

Mya let Brian drive her home and put her to bed. He always seemed to know how to take care of her when she lost focus. He tucked her in and turned down the lights. Put on some soft classical music and made her a cup of tea. She smiled as he placed the phone next to her bed, but not before turning the ringer down. She grimaced as he made her take some migraine medicine, knowing full well she hated pills, but smiled again when he tucked her back in and kissed her forehead. Before he left he let her know that he was there if she needed anything, and she just nodded in response. It was nice to have him back, comforting to know that there was still someone she could turn to when things got out of control.