Justine MacTiernan II - 30 Dec 2015

~Luke~

"Well, care to try it?"
The warlock nodded. "Let's."

~Justine~

Justine was about to answer one of Thomas's questions when the door to the interrogation room opened and a young man in his late twenties entered. He was tall, blonde and blue-eyed with a fresh pink scar on the left side of his face from the corner of his mouth to his ear. She was sure she'd never seen him before and yet something was uncannily familiar about him.
"Who--" she began to ask, and then it clicked. The scar was what had thrown her off - it was obviously new and had been absent in the pictures Owen had shown her. Justine almost forgot to breathe. "Luke?"
The man nodded. "Hello, Justine."
Without even thinking Justine bolted out of her chair and embraced her brother tightly. The hug lasted all of two seconds before Luke managed to force her off, shoving the girl back a few feet, one hand wrapped around his stomach. "Sorry," he began, his voice sounding strained.
Justine frowned, approaching him cautiously. Luke made no attempt to stop her. Carefully the woman lifted the corner of his shirt, revealing several bandages across his torso. She met his eyes. "What happened?"
Her brother grimaced. "You've never met our dad, have you?"
Suddenly her previous conversation with Owen came to mind. "Wait, how are you not dead? Didn't Jeffrey activate some sort of death seal or something?"
Luke nodded. "Yeah, he did."
A confused expression crossed Justine's face. "But you're here. So you're not dead. How are you not dead?" She froze, unmoving for a few minutes, then blinked. "What was I saying?"
Her brother smiled. "You were marvelling at my still being alive."

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