“Sergeant Murphy called again.” James' voice was low in deference to Harry's sleeping form on the low couch in front of the French doors. He liked to sleep in the light. I found that I enjoyed watching him sleep in the sun as it painted his pale skin brilliant colors, the light fracturing on the snow, through the glass and highlighting each imperfection. Every faint scar, every dip and line. I had them all mapped out at this point.
“She is nothing if not persistent.” I set my coffee down and sighed. “I'll speak to him when he wakes.”
“She's threatening to get one of Dresden's friends to say that we kidnapped Dresden. That we're holding him against his will.”
“I'll speak to him. Thank you.” James grunted. It was his 'I don't think you're taking this as seriously as I think you should be' grunt. The man was positively a genius at packing meaning into the smallest sound or movement. I nodded once at him and he left.
“Murphy wants to see me?” Harry had rolled, his back to the doors now. It was his eyes, dark and steady. Not Lasciel, then.
“She has been asking, yes. I thought it might be best to wait until you were feeling stronger.” He smiled, wry.
“I think you mean feeling a little less psychotic, don't you?” I rose and went to him. He remained curled on his side. His skin was hot to the touch, but no more so than had become normal for him. Lasciel hadn't spoken to me since that first evening, but I assumed that the lack of an active fever meant the physical healing was finished.
“I would never use the term psychotic, Harry.” He caught my hand, pressed his thumbs into my palm, kneading. “Do you want to see her? It's your decision.”
“No.” Harry sat up, then stood, his long body brushing against mine. “Maybe. They-” I caught him, a brush of skin against his lips, as soon as I felt the tension sing up his body. “I want to know what happened.”
“I can tell you what Ms. Gard and Mr. Hendricks have told me.” His head jerked down, then up once. Sharp. Reluctant. I sat down on the couch, drawing him back down with me. “After the attempt to abduct the Archive from the aquarium, you vanished. By the time Murphy and the Knights could get in Nicodemus” His hand clenched on mine, hard enough to bruise, “was gone and you along with him. The other Denarians, those who had been actively hunting the Archive and a Mr. Kincaid were either already dead or fled as soon as the trap collapsed.
“A Captain Luccio?” He nodded. “Attempted to track you, but had no luck. Perhaps twenty-four hours after your abduction the Archive received your notes. Her guard had already removed her from the city, but she called Ms. Gard and gave her your message.” Harry smiled.
“She's a good kid, Ivy.” She was, by all accounts, also a terrifying force. I was doubly pleased that the Denarians' plans for her had failed.
“By the time my people figured out enough to locate the island we were being held on, we had been moved. They continued to attempt to track us, though they were unsuccessful.” Harry looked away. “Four days later we emerged from a Way onto my property.” He jerked, shocked.
“Four days?!” Harry turned to me, his deep brown eyes beginning to glow. Not the golden brown of Lasciel's eyes, but a brilliant emerald green around the edges. “I don't remember. I don't remember four days.” His skin heated up, sweat slicked our hands where they touched.
“It was. You were out of it a great deal of the time, Harry. After everything. And then the collar. It's not unexpected.” The heat came off of him in waves, his eyes now solidly glowing green. I took a deep breath and willed myself to remain calm.
He jerked his hand out of mine and stood, stalking over to the other side of the room. The air rushed in behind him, appreciably cooler.
“Show me.”
“Pardon?” Harry whirled around, his eyes so bright they left brief afterimages in my vision.
“I need you to- to show me what I don't remember.” I was shaking my head almost before what he meant came to me.
“No. Harry, I will do many things for you.” I laughed, mirthless. “Ask me to kill someone for you. I would do it in a heartbeat. But I won't recreate that.”
“You have to.” His voice changed, a rolling rumble, like lava chewing up the landscape. “I want someone dead, I can do that for myself. This is something only you can give me. And you will.” Air shifted, something beat against the air, wind rushing hot past me. I kept my seat and met his eyes.
“No, Harry. No.” A mirror on the wall shattered, the bright shards' paths bending around Harry as though he had his shield up.
“Yes.”
“Do you intend to force me?” The memory of the afternoon after our escape was still fresh. Harry on his knees for me, swallowing me down even as his power, his will held me down. He'd let me go, but I had no illusions that I'd fought him off. He'd released me for reasons of his own.
Harry flinched, the light in his eyes wavering and then fading out. He went pale and looked away.
“No. No.”
“Then my answer remains. I will not recreate your rape, Harry.”
~
The tree bark was rough beneath my hands, a leafy branch rested in the middle of my back, the perfect hight to brace myself against.
“The worst part, if anyone asked me, I think the worst part of it all is that you're all so cruel.” Lasciel kicked her feet out beside me, high-laced black boots swinging in the air. Her dress was long, heavy green cloth, the bodice laced up tight with a heavy dark shawl wrapped around her shoulders and pinned with a plain broach. A thin tendril of her long brown hair escaped from beneath the opaque white cap she wore.
People in the clearing below us milled, shouting at one another. Someone mounted a low tree stump and started to yell at the crowd, pounding his fist into his hand.
“And you guys are such kind, loving creatures, right?” She patted my arm.
“Our cruelty is only in response to yours, to what you've done with the world our Creator gave you.” She waved her hand down at the crowd. “It takes so little to drive you to violence. Anyone who is the least bit different is suspect and at the slightest downturn in fortune they can freely be turned upon.”
A woman was dragged through the crowd, her dress torn, bloodied. She had a wild look in her eyes.
“People suck. I don't deny it.”
“I know. I appreciate that honesty in you. Humans.” Her pretty voice turned sad. “He gave up so much for you. Tore heaven in two, betrayed his first born. And what do you give him in return? Blood and terror. Death.” She laughed. “Not that he doesn't appreciate a little blood and death. Just look at what he had his loyal angels do to humans who disobeyed! But he tends to want it, just like everything else, on his own terms. But it's not your fault, not really.”
“What's your point?”
The woman below us screamed as she was lifted onto the back of a horse, her head guided into a waiting noose.
“Look at everything he gave you! All these shiny jewels. And then he left infants running free with no guidance. With no leadership.”
A sharp slap to the horses' rear end and it took off. Her last scream cut off, the rope crackling against the tree branch it was looped over. The lack of a drop meant her neck didn't break. I twisted on the branch so I didn't have to watch.
“All of this.” Lasciel whispered, curled close against my body. The birdsong just seemed to frame the desperate rustle of cloth from below, the scream of leather boots against each other and the thin gasps that choked off fairly quickly. “Is his fault. Because he favored you and then he abandoned you.”
Laughter rolled up from beneath us.
“Can we go somewhere else? Please?”
And we were just in Marcone's bedroom. No wavering light, no nothing.
“Would you prefer to talk about something else?” Lasciel lounged against a mound of pillows at the head of the bed. “Perhaps you'd like to discuss this mad request you've made of our Baron?” She raised her knees, the skirt of her long nightgown riding down her thighs to puddle around her hips.
“I need to know.”
“No, you don't. What difference will it make?”
I dropped down to sit on the foot of the bed.
“None. I don't know why, but I just- I need to know what happened.” I felt the bed shift and Lasciel wrapped her arms around my shoulders, leaning against my back. She was a warm, comfortable weight against me. “I can't remember. Can you?” She sighed against me.
“I'm sorry, but no. The memories never formed, so I can't access them. They just don't exist.” She slid around my side until she was half in my lap. “This really bothers you, doesn't it?”
“Yes.” And I didn't know why. But now that I knew I was missing nearly a week...it was eating at me.
“I could speak to our Baron for you.” Her hand ran through my hair and I leaned into it.
“I don't want to hurt him. I won't force him.” She smiled.
“Scouts honor.” Lasciel gave me the Boy Scouts' salute. “Just talk. I can be very persuasive.”
“No violence.”
“Touching would be cheating.” She leaned up to plant a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Go to sleep. I'll handle everything.”
~
Harry was waiting for me on my bathroom counter when I got out of the shower, long legs curled up beneath him, slender, coiled grace. His eyes glowed brilliant amber and I wrapped a towel tightly around my waist.
“If you give him what he wants, I will break you.” Harry's face had no expression on it.
“I have absolutely no intention of giving in to him.”
“Of course you don't. But if you don't, he'll tear himself apart trying to remember.” Lasciel sighed and stretched out one long leg, scratching blunt nails against the fabric of the jeans Harry was wearing. “So we must do something.”
“I assume you've come with a suggestion?” I turned away from Harry's body and began towel drying my hair. The stitches in my ear were tender, but clearly healing well.
“Give him something that looks like what he wants. He has no way of knowing the difference.” Lasciel brushed Harry's fingers along an old scar on my arm. “It will content him.”
“Why can't you help him retrieve his memories?” Lasciel rolled Harry's eyes.
“Because they don't exist any longer. I burned them out of him!”
“I see.”
“He might not have recovered, with his full memory. So I...edited the content. He's no good to me broken.”
“I-”
“Will do what is best for Harry. We both know it. So think it through, and then help me keep him in one piece.”
~
“I'll make you a deal.” I looked up from my omelette. Marcone was dipping a piece of toast in the yolk of his eggs.
“What deal?”
“Speak to Sergeant Murphy.” He took a swallow of his orange juice. “And I will do to you only what I did before.”
“But what about-”
“No. Only what I did. That's bad enough.” I tapped my fork against the china. It will be enough, Harry.
“Everything. Everything we did.”
“Yes.”
“Call Murph.”
~
“Harry.” Murphy looked tired, deep circles under her eyes and too pale. Even her curls seemed limp. I felt a pang of guilt. She'd been worrying about me for almost two weeks. I glanced at Hendricks behind her and nodded. He backed out and closed the door behind him.
“Hiya Murph.” I did my best to smile at her, but it felt strained and by the look in her eyes I knew she could see the effort it took. She came across the room to me, until she was close enough to touch.
“How-” She stopped and shook her head. “Are you okay?”
“Just great.” I laughed. “Aside from the whole kidnapped and tortured by a demon possessed psycho, I've been awesome. And what've you been up to?” Murphy flinched and I clamped my mouth shut, grinding my teeth together.
“We were looking for you Harry!” She reached for my arm and I let her rest her hand against my wrist. “Luccio and I were working with Gard. There just- there wasn't any trail.” Her hand shifted, moved to wrap around my wrist and I jerked back, breaking her loose hold.
“Where are Mouse and Mister?”
“I have them. They're good, but Mouse misses you Harry.” She turned away from me, looking out the windows. “Are you- can you come home with me?”
“No.” She frowned, her face falling into familiar stubborn lines and turned back to face me.
“Is Marcone keeping you here? You don't have to stay, Harry. You don't owe him anything.” Lasciel laughed and I felt it bubble out of me. Murphy took a step back and I had to wonder if my eyes had started to glow again.
“Marcone couldn't keep me from doing anything I wanted to do.” My skin itched and I shifted my shoulders, trying to relieve the dull pressure that had started to grow there. “Michael?”
“Michael and Sanya were waiting for us to find something. I swear, we didn't abandon you Harry. We just couldn't find you fast enough.” I shook my head and moved away from her. The itching was getting worse.
“You need to leave, Murph.” My muscles were starting to twitch. I heard her shoes scuff against the tile.
“Harry-” I shifted my shoulders again, flexing the muscles and I felt something flow out of me, a low wave of heat. It rolled through the room and over Murphy, made her gasp. “If you don't believe me, ask Gard. She'll tell you. I'll leave, if that's what you want. But you can't stay here forever, Harry. When you're ready to stop hiding, you know how to find me.” I listened to her leave.
About ten minutes later the door opened again. I waited until the lock clicked and then turned around to face Marcone. My skin was still alive with little ticks of fire, the skin of my back tight, but I ignored it. It was time.
I don't know why, but I feel like giving a huge hug to Harry. And another one to Lasciel and Marcone for trying to help Harry.
Is Harry's desire to know based on previous tramas that he couldn't/wouldn't remember? Does he think that he could move on from them by facing it head on?
Hmm... The part where Lash and Harry's taking to each other, is that the past? Or is Lash just showing Harry the cruelty of humans? Is she trying to do her part as the Tempter or is she making a point?
If you asked Harry, he couldn't tell you why he needs to know. But imo, Harry is used to having these traumatic things happen, remembering them and then repressing the shit out of them. He remembers in bits and pieces, but somewhere he *knows*. Not knowing at all is new and freaking him out.
Hmm... The part where Lash and Harry's taking to each other, is that the past?
Not the past, like she took him time travelling. It's all in his head. That being said, they're all historical events that Lasciel was present for, so in a sense she is showing him the past.
Or is Lash just showing Harry the cruelty of humans? Is she trying to do her part as the Tempter or is she making a point?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Fill: Bad Angel V 4/?
“Sergeant Murphy called again.” James' voice was low in deference to Harry's sleeping form on the low couch in front of the French doors. He liked to sleep in the light. I found that I enjoyed watching him sleep in the sun as it painted his pale skin brilliant colors, the light fracturing on the snow, through the glass and highlighting each imperfection. Every faint scar, every dip and line. I had them all mapped out at this point.
“She is nothing if not persistent.” I set my coffee down and sighed. “I'll speak to him when he wakes.”
“She's threatening to get one of Dresden's friends to say that we kidnapped Dresden. That we're holding him against his will.”
“I'll speak to him. Thank you.” James grunted. It was his 'I don't think you're taking this as seriously as I think you should be' grunt. The man was positively a genius at packing meaning into the smallest sound or movement. I nodded once at him and he left.
“Murphy wants to see me?” Harry had rolled, his back to the doors now. It was his eyes, dark and steady. Not Lasciel, then.
“She has been asking, yes. I thought it might be best to wait until you were feeling stronger.” He smiled, wry.
“I think you mean feeling a little less psychotic, don't you?” I rose and went to him. He remained curled on his side. His skin was hot to the touch, but no more so than had become normal for him. Lasciel hadn't spoken to me since that first evening, but I assumed that the lack of an active fever meant the physical healing was finished.
“I would never use the term psychotic, Harry.” He caught my hand, pressed his thumbs into my palm, kneading. “Do you want to see her? It's your decision.”
“No.” Harry sat up, then stood, his long body brushing against mine. “Maybe. They-” I caught him, a brush of skin against his lips, as soon as I felt the tension sing up his body. “I want to know what happened.”
“I can tell you what Ms. Gard and Mr. Hendricks have told me.” His head jerked down, then up once. Sharp. Reluctant. I sat down on the couch, drawing him back down with me. “After the attempt to abduct the Archive from the aquarium, you vanished. By the time Murphy and the Knights could get in Nicodemus” His hand clenched on mine, hard enough to bruise, “was gone and you along with him. The other Denarians, those who had been actively hunting the Archive and a Mr. Kincaid were either already dead or fled as soon as the trap collapsed.
“A Captain Luccio?” He nodded. “Attempted to track you, but had no luck. Perhaps twenty-four hours after your abduction the Archive received your notes. Her guard had already removed her from the city, but she called Ms. Gard and gave her your message.” Harry smiled.
“She's a good kid, Ivy.” She was, by all accounts, also a terrifying force. I was doubly pleased that the Denarians' plans for her had failed.
“By the time my people figured out enough to locate the island we were being held on, we had been moved. They continued to attempt to track us, though they were unsuccessful.” Harry looked away. “Four days later we emerged from a Way onto my property.” He jerked, shocked.
“Four days?!” Harry turned to me, his deep brown eyes beginning to glow. Not the golden brown of Lasciel's eyes, but a brilliant emerald green around the edges. “I don't remember. I don't remember four days.” His skin heated up, sweat slicked our hands where they touched.
“It was. You were out of it a great deal of the time, Harry. After everything. And then the collar. It's not unexpected.” The heat came off of him in waves, his eyes now solidly glowing green. I took a deep breath and willed myself to remain calm.
He jerked his hand out of mine and stood, stalking over to the other side of the room. The air rushed in behind him, appreciably cooler.
“Show me.”
“Pardon?” Harry whirled around, his eyes so bright they left brief afterimages in my vision.
“I need you to- to show me what I don't remember.” I was shaking my head almost before what he meant came to me.
“No. Harry, I will do many things for you.” I laughed, mirthless. “Ask me to kill someone for you. I would do it in a heartbeat. But I won't recreate that.”
“You have to.” His voice changed, a rolling rumble, like lava chewing up the landscape. “I want someone dead, I can do that for myself. This is something only you can give me. And you will.” Air shifted, something beat against the air, wind rushing hot past me. I kept my seat and met his eyes.
“No, Harry. No.” A mirror on the wall shattered, the bright shards' paths bending around Harry as though he had his shield up.
“Yes.”
“Do you intend to force me?” The memory of the afternoon after our escape was still fresh. Harry on his knees for me, swallowing me down even as his power, his will held me down. He'd let me go, but I had no illusions that I'd fought him off. He'd released me for reasons of his own.
Harry flinched, the light in his eyes wavering and then fading out. He went pale and looked away.
“No. No.”
“Then my answer remains. I will not recreate your rape, Harry.”
~
The tree bark was rough beneath my hands, a leafy branch rested in the middle of my back, the perfect hight to brace myself against.
“The worst part, if anyone asked me, I think the worst part of it all is that you're all so cruel.” Lasciel kicked her feet out beside me, high-laced black boots swinging in the air. Her dress was long, heavy green cloth, the bodice laced up tight with a heavy dark shawl wrapped around her shoulders and pinned with a plain broach. A thin tendril of her long brown hair escaped from beneath the opaque white cap she wore.
People in the clearing below us milled, shouting at one another. Someone mounted a low tree stump and started to yell at the crowd, pounding his fist into his hand.
“And you guys are such kind, loving creatures, right?” She patted my arm.
“Our cruelty is only in response to yours, to what you've done with the world our Creator gave you.” She waved her hand down at the crowd. “It takes so little to drive you to violence. Anyone who is the least bit different is suspect and at the slightest downturn in fortune they can freely be turned upon.”
A woman was dragged through the crowd, her dress torn, bloodied. She had a wild look in her eyes.
“People suck. I don't deny it.”
“I know. I appreciate that honesty in you. Humans.” Her pretty voice turned sad. “He gave up so much for you. Tore heaven in two, betrayed his first born. And what do you give him in return? Blood and terror. Death.” She laughed. “Not that he doesn't appreciate a little blood and death. Just look at what he had his loyal angels do to humans who disobeyed! But he tends to want it, just like everything else, on his own terms. But it's not your fault, not really.”
“What's your point?”
The woman below us screamed as she was lifted onto the back of a horse, her head guided into a waiting noose.
“Look at everything he gave you! All these shiny jewels. And then he left infants running free with no guidance. With no leadership.”
A sharp slap to the horses' rear end and it took off. Her last scream cut off, the rope crackling against the tree branch it was looped over. The lack of a drop meant her neck didn't break. I twisted on the branch so I didn't have to watch.
“All of this.” Lasciel whispered, curled close against my body. The birdsong just seemed to frame the desperate rustle of cloth from below, the scream of leather boots against each other and the thin gasps that choked off fairly quickly. “Is his fault. Because he favored you and then he abandoned you.”
Laughter rolled up from beneath us.
“Can we go somewhere else? Please?”
And we were just in Marcone's bedroom. No wavering light, no nothing.
“Would you prefer to talk about something else?” Lasciel lounged against a mound of pillows at the head of the bed. “Perhaps you'd like to discuss this mad request you've made of our Baron?” She raised her knees, the skirt of her long nightgown riding down her thighs to puddle around her hips.
“I need to know.”
“No, you don't. What difference will it make?”
I dropped down to sit on the foot of the bed.
“None. I don't know why, but I just- I need to know what happened.” I felt the bed shift and Lasciel wrapped her arms around my shoulders, leaning against my back. She was a warm, comfortable weight against me. “I can't remember. Can you?” She sighed against me.
“I'm sorry, but no. The memories never formed, so I can't access them. They just don't exist.” She slid around my side until she was half in my lap. “This really bothers you, doesn't it?”
“Yes.” And I didn't know why. But now that I knew I was missing nearly a week...it was eating at me.
“I could speak to our Baron for you.” Her hand ran through my hair and I leaned into it.
“I don't want to hurt him. I won't force him.” She smiled.
“Scouts honor.” Lasciel gave me the Boy Scouts' salute. “Just talk. I can be very persuasive.”
“No violence.”
“Touching would be cheating.” She leaned up to plant a gentle kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Go to sleep. I'll handle everything.”
~
Harry was waiting for me on my bathroom counter when I got out of the shower, long legs curled up beneath him, slender, coiled grace. His eyes glowed brilliant amber and I wrapped a towel tightly around my waist.
“If you give him what he wants, I will break you.” Harry's face had no expression on it.
“I have absolutely no intention of giving in to him.”
“Of course you don't. But if you don't, he'll tear himself apart trying to remember.” Lasciel sighed and stretched out one long leg, scratching blunt nails against the fabric of the jeans Harry was wearing. “So we must do something.”
“I assume you've come with a suggestion?” I turned away from Harry's body and began towel drying my hair. The stitches in my ear were tender, but clearly healing well.
“Give him something that looks like what he wants. He has no way of knowing the difference.” Lasciel brushed Harry's fingers along an old scar on my arm. “It will content him.”
“Why can't you help him retrieve his memories?” Lasciel rolled Harry's eyes.
“Because they don't exist any longer. I burned them out of him!”
“I see.”
“He might not have recovered, with his full memory. So I...edited the content. He's no good to me broken.”
“I-”
“Will do what is best for Harry. We both know it. So think it through, and then help me keep him in one piece.”
~
“I'll make you a deal.” I looked up from my omelette. Marcone was dipping a piece of toast in the yolk of his eggs.
“What deal?”
“Speak to Sergeant Murphy.” He took a swallow of his orange juice. “And I will do to you only what I did before.”
“But what about-”
“No. Only what I did. That's bad enough.” I tapped my fork against the china. It will be enough, Harry.
“Everything. Everything we did.”
“Yes.”
“Call Murph.”
~
“Harry.” Murphy looked tired, deep circles under her eyes and too pale. Even her curls seemed limp. I felt a pang of guilt. She'd been worrying about me for almost two weeks. I glanced at Hendricks behind her and nodded. He backed out and closed the door behind him.
“Hiya Murph.” I did my best to smile at her, but it felt strained and by the look in her eyes I knew she could see the effort it took. She came across the room to me, until she was close enough to touch.
“How-” She stopped and shook her head. “Are you okay?”
“Just great.” I laughed. “Aside from the whole kidnapped and tortured by a demon possessed psycho, I've been awesome. And what've you been up to?” Murphy flinched and I clamped my mouth shut, grinding my teeth together.
“We were looking for you Harry!” She reached for my arm and I let her rest her hand against my wrist. “Luccio and I were working with Gard. There just- there wasn't any trail.” Her hand shifted, moved to wrap around my wrist and I jerked back, breaking her loose hold.
“Where are Mouse and Mister?”
“I have them. They're good, but Mouse misses you Harry.” She turned away from me, looking out the windows. “Are you- can you come home with me?”
“No.” She frowned, her face falling into familiar stubborn lines and turned back to face me.
“Is Marcone keeping you here? You don't have to stay, Harry. You don't owe him anything.” Lasciel laughed and I felt it bubble out of me. Murphy took a step back and I had to wonder if my eyes had started to glow again.
“Marcone couldn't keep me from doing anything I wanted to do.” My skin itched and I shifted my shoulders, trying to relieve the dull pressure that had started to grow there. “Michael?”
“Michael and Sanya were waiting for us to find something. I swear, we didn't abandon you Harry. We just couldn't find you fast enough.” I shook my head and moved away from her. The itching was getting worse.
“You need to leave, Murph.” My muscles were starting to twitch. I heard her shoes scuff against the tile.
“Harry-” I shifted my shoulders again, flexing the muscles and I felt something flow out of me, a low wave of heat. It rolled through the room and over Murphy, made her gasp. “If you don't believe me, ask Gard. She'll tell you. I'll leave, if that's what you want. But you can't stay here forever, Harry. When you're ready to stop hiding, you know how to find me.” I listened to her leave.
About ten minutes later the door opened again. I waited until the lock clicked and then turned around to face Marcone. My skin was still alive with little ticks of fire, the skin of my back tight, but I ignored it. It was time.
OP Here
(Anonymous) 2011-03-13 03:42 am (UTC)(link)I don't know why, but I feel like giving a huge hug to Harry. And another one to Lasciel and Marcone for trying to help Harry.
Is Harry's desire to know based on previous tramas that he couldn't/wouldn't remember? Does he think that he could move on from them by facing it head on?
Hmm... The part where Lash and Harry's taking to each other, is that the past? Or is Lash just showing Harry the cruelty of humans? Is she trying to do her part as the Tempter or is she making a point?
Can't wait for the next part! :D
Re: OP Here
Hmm... The part where Lash and Harry's taking to each other, is that the past?
Not the past, like she took him time travelling. It's all in his head. That being said, they're all historical events that Lasciel was present for, so in a sense she is showing him the past.
Or is Lash just showing Harry the cruelty of humans? Is she trying to do her part as the Tempter or is she making a point?
Yes. :-)