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handonshipper · 3 years

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If I Knew Then What I Know Now: Chapter One

Time. What was time? Was it a straight line that followed cause and effect perfectly? Was it a serpent that slid around in a circle, over and over again, repeating the same events with no chance of an ending? Or was it simply an abstract concept humans invented because of their never-ending need to control everything around them?

Landon Kirby didn't know. Time had escaped him. As he walked around the city he was currently in, he wasn't entirely sure how long he had been in the prison world. He wasn't sure how long he had been away from the girl he loved with all his heart. And the reality was, he wasn't sure it mattered. Whether it was weeks, months, or years, he would love her and he knew she would love him.

Landon took a step inside a warehouse and looked around cautiously. Several of the monsters were still in Mystic Falls, but he knew some had left. Landon was not going to stop being careful. He looked around the warehouse that looked similar yet different to how it had been a year previously, when Clarke had brought him here to find the third artifact. It seemed like a lifetime ago after everything that has happened since.

"Why do you still need me?" Landon had asked, confused as to why they were still there. Why he couldn't just leave.

"I don't need you. Daddy does." Clarke had replied, siting in a chair. "You're the golden child. The one he was trying to create, remember? The perfect son. The one who could create the new bloodline. Because of you, he'll be able to launch the species."

" I'm . I'm not interested in, like, procreating or whatever, okay? Especially if it means I'm spawning an army of evil minions."

"Oh, didn't I mention? You're just the host."

"The what? "

"The host. Biologically speaking, - you're the living organism... - "

"I know what a host is! I've seen Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Are you kidding me? Tell me you're pulling some kind of lame brotherly prank right now."

"You wanted to be special, right? The foster kid looking for a family, believing that you had a purpose if only you could find it. Turns out your purpose is to be a meat suit for the most powerful monster ever to walk the earth."

And Landon had. For a short time anyway before he died in this very prison world and came back to life.

His hand lowered down a bit to the bone whip hanging down beside his leg. He remembered the first time he had seen the headless horseman. How he had let it sweep him up and carry him out there towards Malivore. He was much less equipped to fight at that time. Now, however, he knew how to fight to survive. And he had been doing it nonstop since he arrived in the prison world after escaping Malivore.

Without making a sound, Landon walked over to the shelves. It was more empty than it had been before. Some people from Triad probably had cleared it out a bit after their attack on the Salvatore School. The organization was no longer active as far as Landon knew. He picked up one of the artifacts and looked down, examining it before setting it down. His mind was turning in thought as he looked at everything that remained on the shelves, and he started walking down the aisles, trying to see if there was possibly anything he could use to get him home. He had read some books while hiding out in places, trying to find a way out. He read about a few artifacts and decided to come see this warehouse.

If there was any chance at all that there was a way out here, he had to try. Even if he had no idea if they were here or even if they would actually help him achieve his goal. But he wasn't going to sit around and wait for someone else to find him. He was going to get himself home. No matter what it took.

Suddenly, Landon felt himself still as he heard the slightest noise. He turned his head and pulled out his machete with small stains of blood on it, ready to fight. He moved silently further away from where he heard the sound, careful not to bump any of the shelves as he prepared himself to fight.

Though once he caught sight of the creature, he felt fear course through him. He recognized it. It was the same creature that had made him hallucinate getting rescued over and over again. It was the same creature that ensured he couldn't trust anything he saw. And that terrified him. Stealthily, Landon moved around as the creature got further inside. Landon gripped the blade in his hand and got behind the creature for an upper hand. He moved to strike at it but got thrown back into one of the shelves, causing artifacts to clutter to the floor.

Landon winced slightly as he felt the cut on his arm but ignored it and quickly got up before going to fight the creature. After a bit of a struggle, he cut off its head. He started counting in his head, familiar with how long it took them to resurrect, and he picked up some artifacts off of the floor. He touched one and suddenly, the room was full of a white light that sucked him in.

After blinking a little, he began to process where he was. In front of him was the familiar Mystic Grill sign on the window of the bar and grill. He stilled in confusion, wondering how he had gotten there. In his lightly visible reflection on the window, Landon noticed the bright blue coloring of the Mystic Grill uniform on his body.

"Hello?" One of the teenagers from Mystic Falls High questioned, somewhat snapping him out of his thoughts.

In front of him were two teenagers, a blonde and a brunette, both about 16. The brunette who had spoken to him looked at him with a mix of confusion, annoyance, and expectancy. It was only then that he realized he was holding a tray with two drinks. She was a customer. His customer.

This couldn't be real. It had to have been that creature messing with his mind. It didn't make sense. There was no way he could have gotten out like that. And even if he did, he was missing his outfit and his weapons, which made him feel very vulnerable. He breathed out a little and gave them their drinks before leaving without a word.

His heart was racing a little as he looked around. There were people. All sorts of people. But it wasn't the first time he had hallucinate being rescued and getting out. Though usually Hope was right there with him. He wasnt sure what was going on. But a hallucination was the only thing that made sense. He found himself a few knives, a lighter, and a change of clothes and then went towards the Salvatore School, wanting to see Hope if by some miracle it wasnt a hallucination.

Once he arrived, he froze a bit, thinking. He had to make sure nothing came with him. He would stay in the woods for now just to make sure and then he would go in once he knew it was safe. Though he would feel a lot better with his weapons and mask. Landon was still expecting himself to suddenly be pulled out of this.

Landon got passed the gate and looked around a little. He distanced himself from the school but was close enough at the moment that he could see the people walking about as he hid. He couldn't see Hope from where he was yet so he retreated further into the woods, planning to find her again soon. Make sure she was alright.

By the end of the day, he still couldn't see Hope anywhere. He hesitated before sneaking inside the school at night. He needed to make sure she was alright. Then he'd leave to finish making sure nothing had followed him. Then he'd reunite with her.

Landon moved quietly up to her room, swiftly hiding once someone was about to pass, and he finally reached her room. He quietly opened the door, knowing if she saw him that the reunion would happen sooner than he planned. But if it did, he'd just make sure to keep an eye around everything else. Though Landon still wasn't sure this was real. He kept expecting himself to snap out of the hallucination.

He creeped open the door to her bedroom and stepped inside. There was only one bed, and she was not in it. He frowned a little and gracefully moved to her desk. Her room looked quite different. Full of things he had not expected to see. He looked down at things that were on her desk, wanting to get an idea of how long he had been gone. Though that still wouldn't answer the question of why he was suddenly at Mystic Grill in his old uniform. He looked at a photo of her family and kept his gaze on it for a moment before continuing to look. He saw notes for school. Labeled with a date from three years before Landon went into Malivore. This didn't make sense. And where was Hope?

He looked around and stilled as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He looked younger. His hairstyle, his face's shape... it was all younger. He pulled up the sleeve of his arm and noticed the lack of scars. His recent wound was no longer there. What was there was a recent cigarette burn. He ran his thumb over it gently, barely noticing the pain. Was it possible to be in the past? Was this part of a hallucination or did he somehow escape and travel back in time? It didn't make sense, but he supposed anything was possible at this point.

Landon looked around and climbed out of the window before landing down at the ground before sneaking into the office once he saw it was empty. He assumed they must be in bed, though like always, he kept his hearing alert. Trusted his instincts. He went over to the secret small room and pulled out a couple of the weapons, shoving it into a bag he had found. He closed the secret door carefully, making sure to be quiet. Looking at the desk, he found confirmation that it definitely seemed like the time when he was 15. With this in mind, he slipped out of the office and left the school. He got himself a bus ticket to New Orleans and took a seat at the bus stop. His mind brought him back to the last time he was journeying to New Orleans.

"What is this?" Landon had asked as Hope put a magical bracelet around his wrist

"Think of it like a... 'click your heels together three times' kind of thing. If you ever need me, just press it, and my bracelet will lead me to you." she had told him, looking back up at him.

She had started to leave, and he pressed the button on his bracelet. She turned to look at him.

"I wanted to see if it worked." He had explained to her, and they had rushed to each other before kissing in front of the bus that had been approaching.

He looked away and stood up as a bus arrived before getting on, ready to find Hope. He was tense and relieved that not many people were on the bus. He knew it was going to take time for him to get used to being around anyone. But right now, what mattered more than his lack of social skills and the fact this could all be fake or the possibility of being ambushed was finding Hope. Though his body didn't ease up the whole ride to New Orleans, and he kept expecting to suddenly be back at the prison world with the monster.

#legacies #cw legacies #legacies cw #hope mikaelson #landon kirby #amazing post #handon #hope x landon #jigglejerk #fanfics #fanfic #legacies fanfic #the originals

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seagreen-meets-grey · 5 years

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When Lightning Strikes Ch. 7

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

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Destiny and fate were interesting concepts. The idea that there was one sole purpose to one’s life, one goal that would guide the way to fulfillment – it didn’t make sense to Astrid. She didn’t believe that there was only one main road in life, one that lead her to whatever fate awaited her. She understood the thought behind the sentiment, about how whatever struggle one had to overcome, their choice would be the one they were destined to make. The right choice, after all.

But making choices was what determined the road. Life was a labyrinth to her, one with innumerable turns and crossroads and junctions, and every single one opened up to new paths to take. People could tell her all they wanted about how the roads she decided to take were the ones destined for her in the end – she would keep rolling her eyes at them and live her life by the standard that she was free to create her own paths and laugh in the face of destiny.

Facing her choice between marrying Eret and going for Hiccup proved her take on fate again. She could either decide to go one way or the other, both paths resulting in different, lifechanging avenues anew.

Blinking the little sleep out of her eyes that she got last night, she thought of the dress hanging in her wardrobe, in-between everyday clothes like a swan in a pig stall. She rolled around in her large bed, so empty without Eret next to her.

She could still change her mind. Take the other road. Plunge into the unknown. But then her phone rang, the loud tune pulling her the rest of the way from her slumber, and she reached for it with a sigh. She stared at the name showing up on her screen until her phone went quiet and notified her that she had one missed call.

Throwing it away to the foot of the bed, she grumbled and pulled the covers over her head. Three and a half hours were way too short to be rested. Not a minute later, her phone started ringing again, muffled by the blanket it had landed on. Astrid rubbed her forehead and stretched her arms, closing her eyes for one last moment. She couldn’t prolong this forever.

_______________

After leaving his house in a hurry that afternoon, Hiccup jogged around the building to where he had parked his car. He fumbled with the keys, shivering from the wind and the increasing amount of cold rain drops landing on his neck and rolling down his back.

He ducked into his car and dropped the keys only twice before he started the engine. It stuttered, spluttered and lurked a few times in tune with his stomach.

“Come ooon,” he pleaded, “don’t leave me hanging, don’t–“ His eyes fell on the fuel gage and with an exasperated groan he let his head fall on the steering wheel, jumping when his forehead honked the horn. For a minute, he sat there staring at the rain now pelting against the windshield, entertaining the thought of rotting away in his useless car for eternity.

A bright flash in the sky and the faraway sound of thunder shook him from his reverie and he felt determination flood back into his system. Grabbing his keys and pulling the zipper of his jacket up to his face, he got out of the car and had half a mind to lock it behind him before sprinting off to the next bus station.

Out of breath and cursing the puddles on the street that had soaked his feet through his shoes, he reached the stop, dashing under the small roof. In the company of a woman playing on her phone and a moody-looking teenager listening to loud music, he tapped his feet impatiently. According to the schedule plastered to the wall behind him, the next bus downtown should have arrived one minute ago.

Hiccup couldn’t stand still, pacing back and forth in the crammed space, earning judging looks from the teen. Wringing his hands, he stuck his head out every other second to see if the bus was somewhere to be seen. Five minutes passed, eight minutes, ten, twelve. Still no bus.

Swearing colorfully under his breath, he kicked at a pebble that had the misfortune of lying there on the ground. He could feel every second fly by, forever lost to him. Chancing another peek down the street, his heart leaped into his throat when a vehicle came around the corner.

_______________

The deep gray blanket of clouds parted on their way to the hair salon, one lone ray of sunshine breaking through. Ruffnut cursed and blindly reached to the backseat, producing a pair of sunglasses from the mess that was piling up everywhere in her car.

The beam fell on Astrid’s face. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the way it warmed her skin for too short a while until it disappeared behind the clouds again. The dark sky did nothing to soothe her nerves. Every forecast she’d repeatedly checked over the last week had predicted sunshine and warmth, only for the weather to pull a one-eighty on her now. She didn’t like the taste of rain in the air, feared that the wind would mess up her hair later the moment she stepped outside.

She sent a silent thanks to her friend when she parked right in front of the building. Should it start raining while they were inside, they’d need only seconds to reach the safety of the car.

The sound of scissors and hairdryers and the smell of various hair products greeted her when they entered the hair salon. Most of the chairs were occupied with women with tinfoil in their hair, reading a magazine while they waited for the color to seep in. A handful of stylists were working their magic with several other people, washing and cutting and chatting away.

“Good morning, can I help you?” A young woman with long hair somewhere between dark blonde and light brown appeared from a side room.

Astrid opened her mouth but Ruff beat her to it. “Astrid here needs to get laid tonight, so please make her hair look dazzling.”

Recognition flashed on the young woman’s face and with a smile that meant she’d met Ruffnut before, she waved Astrid over to a comfy looking chair in front of a big mirror. In it, Astrid watched Ruff wave at her before she left the salon, off to pick up the veil from the cleaner.

“I’m sorry for my friend,” she said when she set down. “She doesn’t know how to be normal.”

“Don’t worry, I met her before. She came here last week to ask who’d be doing your hair and tried to talk me into dying it pink. I figured you’re not a fan of pink.”

“Not at all.” Astrid shook her head. She wasn’t surprised. In fact, she’d wondered why Ruff had been so anti-chaotic during the whole ordeal so far. Maid of honor or not, she was still Ruffnut Thorston, and this little pranking attempt of hers gave Astrid some sense of normalcy, for which she was immensely grateful. She was anxious and stressed enough, and even though walking out of here with pink hair – if Ruff’s prank had worked – had ended in murder, it helped her breathe away some of the stress.

“Now, Miss Hofferson–“

“Call me Astrid.”

“How do you want your hair today, Astrid? I’m Marie, by the way.”

Astrid looked at herself in the mirror for a moment. “Honestly? I usually have it in a braid or ponytail because it’s practical. I don’t care much about hairstyles.”

Marie wiggled her fingers with a grin, obviously excited. “Alright darling, I got you covered. Let’s do this!”

_______________

It wasn’t the bus.

Hiccup’s shoulders sagged, only to go rigid again when it dawned on him that the bus wasn’t coming. He turned to the schedule again and let his finger run down the plastic cover, stopping under the information for when the next bus was supposed to arrive. It was more than an hour until then.

Cursing himself for moving to the outskirts of the city and even more for not filling up his gas tank sooner, he stepped back into the rain and walked down the street in quick steps. Fumbling out his phone with cold fingers, he typed in his destination and let the app calculate the time needed to walk there.

When he came to a crosswalk and looked up to check if he was good to go, he saw a long vehicle stop at the bus station. Oh great, it seemed like the universe had it out for him. He uttered a long sigh, fully aware that it was too late for screaming and waving at the bus driver while running back like an idiot.

The app had finished loading the calculation and the time display on the screen sent another wave of anxiety through him. Even if he ran, he wouldn’t make it on time. If only he had a car…

In a moment of clarity, he raised his hand and smacked his face. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?! While looking up the number of Berk’s cab company, he reached for his wallet with the other, only to come up empty.

“Figures,” he groaned and turned on the spot to run back home.

_______________

“And I was like, can someone please tell me why men are all imbecile spawns of hell?! No offense, honey, I know you’re getting married today, but boy, they can suck my non-existent dick.”

Marie had been working Astrid’s hair for nearly two hours now, first washing it and then trying a bunch of different hairstyles until they found one that they were both happy with. Ruff hadn’t yet shown up again and Astrid was wondering what was taking so long at the cleaner. She hoped her maid of honor hadn’t decided to rent a boar on the way to make the ceremony interesting.

“It’s okay,” Astrid assured Marie, “I know what you mean, believe me. Before I met Eret, I was in a situation similar to yours. I had already settled for staying single forever because I thought being in a relationship meant losing my independence. But there are good ones out there.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Marie reached for a tube of haircare oil that smelled of coconut and summer when she combed it into Astrid’s hair. “But right now, I don’t care about any of them. Maybe one day, I’ll bump into a Shawn Mendes kind of guy and he’ll be nice and perfect and not like Kevin at all.”

Astrid smiled at her through the mirror. “Personally, I wouldn’t go for Shawn Mendes. But regardless of that, you should know that you don’t just bump into the perfect guy and everything immediately works out just the way you want it to. Relationships need work and the myth of the one perfect person for you is just that – a myth.”

Marie smirked. “I sense a story coming. Dish, girl, dish.”

“There’s nothing to dish. I just realized lately that when you think you found the one you want to spend your life with, someone else can sweep right in and show you the truth.” Astrid didn’t know why she was telling her this. She didn’t even know this girl. But maybe that was the reason; she could just talk this off her soul and remind herself that she was doing the right thing.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I decided to not throw this relationship away because of these uncertain feelings I have for someone else. Because if I dump Eret now and try things with the other guy and that doesn’t work out, I’ll just regret it because I threw away a life of happiness and comfort.”

Marie was quiet for a minute, running her fingers through the strands of Astrid’s hair one last time to make sure every hair was where it was supposed to be. The bell over the front door jingled and through the mirror, Astrid saw Ruffnut walk in, holding up a clear bag with the veil.

“Well,” Marie mused and put her hands on Astrid’s shoulders, “I hope that everything works out for you.” She gave the chair a twirl. “Go get him, girl!”

_______________

Ignoring the mess he’d made while searching for his wallet, Hiccup called himself a cab while he ran back outside and didn’t stop walking. If he already started heading in the right direction, it shortened the route the cab would have to take, right?

The guy on the other end of the phone informed him that it would be a few minutes until a cab was available in his area. Hiccup didn’t care anymore, his stress level already through the roof and unable to rise higher – or so he’d thought.

As it turned out, the way he had to go wasn’t necessarily the way the cab was coming from. One mile later, his phone rang and a bored-sounding cab driver asked Hiccup if he still required his services or if he got the address wrong.

Apologizing for the misunderstanding, Hiccup told the driver where he was. He didn’t dare to walk away from his spot this time. But standing still was even worse than realizing he was at the wrong place. He kept looking at his phone without really seeing anything but the time, almost dropped it a few times and then once for real, paced around a lone trashcan, his head swiveling up and down the street in search of the cab. He messed up his hair – see, good thing he didn’t put any energy into combing it – and was soaked by the time the car pulled up at the sidewalk. The driver only raised his eyebrows at Hiccup’s state, and had this been a less stressful situation, he would have apologized for getting the seat wet.

He told the driver the address and promised to pay double if he made it quick. The man only shrugged and floored it while Hiccup grabbed the handle on the door and glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time. Although he was finally moving faster towards his destination, he now really started to panic.

_______________

As soon as Astrid and Ruffnut left the hair salon and made it back to the car without a strong gust of wind ruining all of Marie’s hard work, Astrid wanted to go back inside. The atmosphere in the salon had been weirdly peaceful and calm, and as long as Marie hadn’t been done with her hair, Astrid had had an excuse for not being somewhere else right now, for not moving forward with the day, for not facing the source of her nervousness.

Not much later, she was having breakfast at her parents’ house. Her father was quietly reading the newspaper, occasionally sipping from his giant mug of coffee. Her mother was listing all the things that still needed to be done and arguing with Ruffnut who was lounging in her chair, smearing chocolate spread all over her shirt.

When Wilma glanced at her watch, her eyes widened and she stopped trying to get Ruff to rub the chocolate off her shirt with a washcloth. Standing up, she started to simultaneously clean the table and collect several makeup utensils from all over the house. All the while, she was ranting about wasting time, Ruff doing a bad job by not dragging Astrid out of bed earlier, about the weather, and at some point, while she was disappearing upstairs, Astrid was sure she heard her blaming politics.

Her dad looked up from his newspaper shortly to roll his eyes with Astrid. When Wilma came back downstairs, Ruff planted herself in the doorway.

“You!” She poked her finger in Astrid’s mother’s chest. “Give me that.” She snatched the utensils from her hand. “Now go and scream into a pillow or something. I got this.”

Wilma put her hands on her hips and looked like she was about to dive into a lecture that started with young lady, but Astrid’s dad interrupted her.

“Let’s all just keep calm, okay? We still have a lot of time on our hands. Why don’t we just have breakfast without ripping each other’s heads off, and then we worry about what comes next.”

Wilma wasn’t having any of it. “A lot of time? Have you looked at the clock recently, Frederick?”

While her parents continued bickering, Astrid gave up resisting the fuss made around her and let Ruff apply her makeup in-between bites of bread rolls and scrambled eggs. She had just closed her eyes so that Ruff could give her a touch of eyeshadow to cover any evidence of lack of sleep, when she heard the front door open.

“Hello, everyone!”

“See?!” Wilma snapped at her husband. “He’s ready!”

“Not at all,” Eret answered and Astrid couldn’t contain a smug smile. “I just came here to give you,” he put a hand on Astrid’s shoulder, “an update. I just met your aunt Ruth and she told me she brought three of her lady friends along.”

“What?! She can’t just do that. Do we even have enough room for more people? And why would–“

“Wilma!” Frederick interrupted her.

Eret continued as if her mother wasn’t in the room. “She said something about them all being lonely and needing some company tonight, I don’t know. Anyway, I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Thanks,” Astrid mumbled. Eret might have sounded completely calm to everyone else, but there was a tension at the edge of his voice that was obvious to her. It kind of grounded her, knowing that she wasn’t the only one feeling this way, and that her nervousness didn’t stem from her being uncertain about what she was doing. (Which she wasn’t, because she had made her decision and was sure about it, alright?)

“I told Dagur to rearrange the seating a bit, I’m sure he’ll figure it out.” His hand left her shoulder and she heard him turn around before he added, “Oh, by the way, Dagur’s sister isn’t coming, he said she’s on vacation with her new boyfriend. Which means that Dagur’s without a date tonight, so I can finally hook him up with Theresa!”

She smiled at his jaunty enthusiasm. Ruffnut was still not done with the eyeshadow – Astrid was only slightly concerned about that – so she blindly reached her hand over her head for Eret. He squeezed it once and she felt him coming closer to her face, but Wilma chose that moment to barge back into the conversation.

“Don’t you dare! No kisses! Traditionally, you’re not even supposed to be here. So get out and get yourself ready! Then at least one of you is.”

Eret laughed quietly but she could feel her mother’s deadly stare even through closed eyes. Astrid had to have inherited it from somewhere which meant Eret knew the extent of the Hofferson Death Glare. He said goodbye and the front door fell shut behind him.

Astrid’s heart was beating uncomfortably in her chest and her head felt dizzy. Taking a deep breath and refraining from biting her lip lest Ruff yelled at her for ruining the lipstick, she willed herself to calm down. That stone in her gut meant that she was generally nervous, nothing more.

Only when she dropped a glass of orange juice a while later did she pause to think for a second, but that turned out to be a mistake. Thinking made her go down the route of impactful decisions again and it had a tiny voice in her mind ask her if maybe signs of the universe were real after all.

_______________

They were moving excruciatingly slowly. Every time a car or even a bicycle passed the cab on another lane, it made Hiccup’s knee twitch. The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror oddly from time to time and seemed to have forgotten about the extra money Hiccup had promised to pay him if only he stepped on it.

When the car came to a full stop on the road, Hiccup threw his hands up in frustration. “Seriously?!”

“Traffic, man,” the driver said lackadaisically, leaning back in his seat and drumming his fingers on the stick shift in a bored manner.

Hiccup wiped a hand over his face and pulled his phone from his pocket. It was clammy from his soaked jeans. The app told him that it would take him sixteen minutes to reach his destination if he walked. Less, if he ran.

Crawling halfway over the center console, he peeked out the windshield to gauge how long the traffic jam would go on, ignoring the sideways glance of the driver. Upon seeing only very little movement far ahead, he gave the man a few bills and climbed back to his seat to get out.

“Hey,” the driver called after him, “that’s not double!”

Hiccup stuck his head in again to call back, “And I’m not there on time,” before he slammed the door and navigated his way through stuck cars until he reached the sidewalk. Orienting himself once more, he figured out the fastest way to the venue and started to run.

His days on the couch, the lack of healthy food and his relationship with exercise in general quickly came to bite him in the ass as he had to stop one street over to catch his breath. As winded as he was and as much as he’d love a raincoat right now, the thought of Astrid lent him a new wave of energy.

Ten minutes later, the place came into view, one final sprint away. He just had to pull himself together one last time.

_______________

Putting on the dress was a feat on its own. She couldn’t pull it on over her head because it would ruin her hair so she had to step into it and have Ruff close it on her back. The zipper was thin and the fabric sat tight on her so, naturally, her skin got stuck in it several times before her mother took over. She sent Ruff away to do her job and make sure everything at the venue was ready and going smoothly.

“We’re going to arrive to either a perfect arrangement or a crime scene,” Wilma mumbled when Ruff was gone.

“Don’t forget the fire, the explosions and the wild horde of boars,” Astrid added. “And her brother.”

Now that they were alone, her mother seemed to calm down considerably. All that was left for them to do was to drive to the wedding. Astrid wondered if it was her who was shaking or if it were her mother’s hands that delicately stroked over her back where hopefully no trace of the zipper was visible.

“This is really happening, hm.” Her mother’s voice was no further above a whisper, more than twenty years’ worth of nostalgia sewn into it. “You’re finally leaving the nest.”

“I’ve left the nest years ago, mom.”

“But you were still a Hofferson until now.”

“I’m keeping my name. I’ll stay a Hofferson.” When the issue of last names had come up, Eret had suggested she take his. But the Hofferson inside her had screamed in protest, unwilling to give up her family name and the notion of independence by making herself all his. She knew that he’d never think of her as his property, but it still didn’t sit right with her to change her name. So she didn’t.

Wilma came around to stand in front of her and Astrid was surprised at the strange sight of tears welling up in her mother’s eyes. She figured it made sense for her to get emotional on a day like this, but she’d never seen her cry before.

“You know that you’ll always be my little girl, right?”

“I know, mom. Come here.” She pulled her mother into a hug and the two of them stood like that for a long while. Astrid felt like a little girl seeking out the safety of her mother’s arms. Right here, right now, she didn’t have to worry about decisions and destiny and consequences and whether she was making the right choices for herself.

She felt the arms around her squeeze one more time, then her mom straightened up, took a step back and gave her daughter a firm nod that conveyed more than Astrid could ever put into words.

“Are you ready to do this?” Wilma asked, voice both breathless and strong.

Astrid knew what it meant; she could see it in her mother’s eyes. She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Her father was already waiting outside. Her mother fastened the veil in her hair and gave her the bouquet before she opened the door for her and lead her to the car.

When they neared the venue – which was a generic party hall rather than a beautiful old mansion, but it would do – there was no fire to be seen, no wild animals disturbing the scene, no Thorston twins’ shenanigans. Ruffnut was, for once, trying to contain the chaos instead of causing it, which Astrid had to give her a lot of credit for.

Her dad parked the car and opened her door. With a steely resolve, she climbed out of the vehicle and held her head up high. Nobody had to know that mere days ago, she had still been contemplating running away and leaving the man waiting for her inside, friends and family by his side.

She noticed the storm clouds in the distance, hanging lower than the blanket of ashy gray that had accompanied her on her way to the hair salon that morning. Her chat with Marie seemed like it had been years ago. Astrid squinted her eyes and watched closely as the clouds moved forward, passing a row of houses. They were coming fast. She hoped they wouldn’t ruin the photos her parents wanted to take with her before the ceremony and all the ones she had to take afterwards.

The photographer was already waiting for them, leading them to a set of trees decorated with white and rose gold ribbons and flowers, and the letters A and E made of wood hanging from a branch. It wasn’t the most elegant decoration, but it was more than Astrid had expected her maid of honor to organize. In all honesty, she kept waiting for sex toys to fall out of the trees or a banner that said all kinds of dirty things.

But the photos turned out great and the storm kept a distance during all of it. It was time to head inside and face the road she had decided to take. On her way to the building, she was still chancing glances upwards, waiting for a pigeon to fly by and drop a present on her head. But there was no bird shit and signs from the universe weren’t real.

The music started when she stepped over the threshold, walking arm in arm with her parents. The guests all stood, ohs and ahs sounding from every corner as she walked down the aisle. Eret’s eyes flitted over her appearance and fixated on her face, smile as soft and proud as his gaze.

She gulped, taking her place next to him and giving a tiny wave to her parents when they left her to take their seats. The officiator started talking but she barely listened. For some reason, her eyes kept wandering over the rows of guests, searching for an anker she knew wasn’t there. Finally, she looked back at Eret, and the ceremony went on.

_______________

Something was strange about this place. Hiccup couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was there. It was hard to concentrate on anything while his brain and body were begging for oxygen, his muscles were jittery and exhausted and all he wanted to do was lie down on the pavement and sleep for days.

But he didn’t have that luxury. All he could think of was arriving to the wedding on time, before she could say I do without him telling her how he felt. Maybe it would make a difference, maybe it wouldn’t. But he’d rather do it while there was still a chance of it making one, despite it being a naïve hope.

Bending over and wheezing for air, he collected his senses. Just do it, the Shia Labeouf in his mind shouted at him. A determined jolt went through his limbs and he straightened up, jogging down the driveway of the centuries-old mansion towering in front of him.

His hand was shaking as he lifted it to the doorknob. Ignoring the strange tug at the back of his subconsciousness still trying to tell him something, he opened the door.

_______________

The officiator, an old school friend of her dad’s, held a long speech about true love. She could tell that Eret found it a bit cheesy, judging from the looks he threw her every now and then, but that, ultimately, he saw himself in the man’s words.

Astrid caught comparatively little of the speech. She heard sentiments about solidarity, trust and togetherness here and there, but her mind was elsewhere. She was assessing her feelings, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions kicking and jumping through her heart. There was nervousness, naturally, whereas she couldn’t care about the attention of the crowd any less. Then there was a mixture of giddiness, bubbling about in her chest, and a touch of fear as she was boarding a ship that would set sail as soon as she said the words. She could then only stay on that ship forever or jump into the cold, relentless ocean to escape.

Behind her eyes, the tiredness was beginning to press against her skull. She’d gone to bed so early last night, but when she’d been lying there alone in the silent darkness, she’d become a victim to her own doubts. For fear of dreaming of Hiccup and the porch again, just when she’d closed the gate to that road, she’d tossed and turned in her sheets for hours until exhaustion finally won over.

In the morning, she’d known that she had dreamed about something, although she couldn’t remember what it had been. All that remained was a faint feeling of easiness, lingering like a warm glow coating her heart. She couldn’t help but think about the possible what-ifs again. What if she said no? What if she had told Eret weeks or even months ago that she didn’t feel ready for this yet? What if she had never agreed to come with him to Dagur’s party?

Rain was rapping against the windows now and from where she stood, she could see the branches of the trees bowing to the wind. Someone switched on a second row of lights.

“And now the rings,” the officiator’s voice cut through her thoughts. Eret’s cousin, a small boy in dress pants and suspenders, jumped up from his seat at his cue and carefully carried over a tiny white pillow with the rings on it.

Astrid took a shaky breath. The officiator spoke again, leading up to the traditional questions.

In that moment, her attention was diverted when the door to the room opened. Her heartbeat stilled for a second when she saw a tall figure enter. She didn’t know why she was simultaneously disappointed and relieved when she recognized her cousin Beth’s husband.

“Do you,” the officiator started, calling Astrid back to the situation. Hearing Eret say I do suddenly pulled her down to earth and planted her feet on the solid ground, and the door stayed closed.

“And do you, Astrid Hofferson, take this man as your husband?” When she opened her mouth, she couldn’t imagine a different answer. She’d built this relationship with Eret and got her life together with him. She didn’t want to throw away all they had grown to be and what she’d come to call her life, where she felt safe and secure and loved and where she was happy, happy with the way things were.

“I do.” The roaring applause of the guests turned to white noise as Eret pulled her to him. She grinned into the kiss, feeling the waves lap against the ship’s hold as it left the harbor and the space between her and the dock became too large to jump.

This was what she’d wanted for longer than what she refused to think about anymore. Ignoring the still lingering notion of what if, she wouldn’t allow herself to think about another man while she was now married. However, although she knew she’d made the right decision, that didn’t mean that the entire Hiccup-conflict was immediately resolved. But it would soon be, because she couldn’t do this anymore now, and she wouldn’t. That brief chapter of her life had to come to a close.

She didn’t have time to further think about it, shaking hands and sharing hugs with every guest in the room. Photos had to be taken inside, and when it was time for the soup to be served, her face hurt from smiling.

When the rest of the dessert was being carried away by the catering staff, the band asked everyone to join the newlyweds on the dancefloor. Astrid had to take off the veil since it reached all the way down her back and wouldn’t survive the night if she kept it on. Then she danced with Eret, with her parents, with Eret again, with his grandparents, with Ruffnut and Dagur and even with Beth’s husband who told her about his weak bladder and apologized for taking a bathroom break in the middle of the ceremony. It was an incident Astrid didn’t want to be reminded about, for a reason different to what he might be thinking.

After a while, the party became a blur, people mingling everywhere and with everyone, drinking and laughing and dancing. Astrid was listening to her neighbor Larry telling her great-uncle Greg some story about a man that had once lived across from him and who he swore had been an undercover cop, when her mother tapped her on the shoulder. Astrid leaned in closer so she could hear her better over the music and the ruckus of conversation and frolicking party guests.

“There’s a young man outside asking for you.” Astrid frowned, in her mind going through all the people who would want to talk to her who weren’t already here. Her mother gave her a meaningful look and Astrid could tell she had a suspicion who it might be. She felt her heart rate go up at the implication.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she turned around to head outside.

“Astrid,” her mom called after her and met her eyes with a serious expression. “You made your decision. Don’t throw that away now.” Earning strange looks from Greg and Larry, she held eye contact with her daughter until Astrid walked away.

The rain had let up, quietly drumming on the canopy over the patio in an even rhythm. She heard thunder roll in the distance and inhaled the fresh air. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind but she was sure she didn’t want to change anything about her decision – only for that foundation to tumble the moment she saw him.

Her heart quivered in her chest. The sight of him leaning against a wooden beam, soaked in rain and rumpled from the wind, knocked her next breath right out of her so unexpectedly that she lost her voice for a second.

He noticed her and turned around, those green eyes shining like emerald beacons in the night when he set his sight on her. “Wow, you look…” He gestured at her dress with the little splotch of sauce on it, at her hair that was flowing down her back in waves, with small flowers woven into it.

His gaze set her cheeks on fire and she averted her face, biting her lip to keep it from breaking into a wide grin. “Thanks.” She glanced back at him and let the smile loose, anyway, twisting it into a smirk. “Not bad yourself.”

Hiccup looked down at himself, a bit of water running out of his hair and down his face at the motion. “Fancy, huh? I made an effort to get the November rain look right.”

“You know, I think that outfit goes with an umbrella.”

“One might think that,” he said in such a dry tone that it made Astrid snicker.

His face lit up at the sound and she could see the small gap between his front teeth when he cracked that lopsided smile she found so adorable.

She cleared her throat, snapping out of the bubble they were creating. “So… What are you doing here?”

He sobered up at her question as well, raising a hand to rub his neck. “Well, I…” He seemed to be struggling with his words, every line of his face immerged in countless everchanging emotions. “I wanted to come by and, um… And tell you…” After a beat of silence, he ran a hand over his face and gesticulated with the other. “I was at the other place first, but no one was there except some plumber guys.”

Astrid grimaced apologetically.

“I think they were as confused about me as I was by them, so we just stood there gaping at each other for a minute until one of the guys asked me what I was doing there. They told me about the water damage but didn’t know where you were now.”

“Sorry, we told the guests but didn’t send out new invitations. Where did you get the address anyway?”

A light blush covered his cheeks. “Saw Heather’s invitation. Anyway, so I looked up where events were held today, used a few of my dad’s contacts; most of them probably think now I’m some kind of stalker. I got it down to a few possible places and checked them all. Crashed a wedding, a bingo tournament and a funeral. Apparently, I look like the dead guy when he was young, because his widow fainted when she saw me. I think I yelled something about waiting for her in the afterlife and disappeared as fast as possible.”

Astrid burst out laughing, picturing him awkwardly talking his way through the situation, moving his hands and shoulders with every breath, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights.

“Yeah, so then I checked here and asked that woman out here if I was at the right place.”

“That was my mom, by the way.”

Recognition flashed over his face. “Makes sense. You have the same nose.” He blushed. “Sorry, that probably came out weird.”

Trying to figure out if he was serious, she pondered inviting him in. She was conflicted, because she really shouldn’t.

An idea popped up in her head. It was crazy, absolutely insane and, above all, very stupid. What if, she thought, what if she just threw everything to the wind and ran away with him, right now? Looking into his eyes, out here alone on the patio, it seemed possible.

But then reality came back to her in the shape of the ring pressing against the skin on her finger. It was like a punch to the gut; it doused her heart in gasoline and threw a whole pack of matches on top. Rushing for the fire extinguisher, she decided she wanted him around as a friend, if not to prove to herself that she’d made the right decision.

“Hey,” she said, “do you want to come inside? I’m hereby officially inviting you so don’t listen to Dagur, he can’t throw you out. I’m the bride, I have the last say.”

Hiccup’s eyebrows scrunched together and her smile faded. “No, I better leave.” He took a step closer.

“Why? Because of Dagur? Don’t worry, I can reign him in.”

He shook his head. “No. I mean, yes, but no, that– that’s not what I mean.”

“Then why not?” She mirrored his movement, ever drawn to him like a magnet. He took another step towards her, deep green irises glinting in the light of the patio. She could see the long scar on his chin, could count the freckles on his skin, wanted to feel the stubble on his jaw. Her fingers prickled under the phantom sensation conveyed by her imagination.

He slowly raised his hand to put a strand of hair behind her ear, stroked lightly over her cheek, leaving trails of tingling fires. Thunder grumbled directly above them and the clouds burst, releasing an ocean upon the earth. He leaned in until she could make out every shade of green in his eyes. His lips touched the corner of her mouth and her brain shut down.

It took her a few seconds to realize he wasn’t standing directly in front of her anymore. Her hand automatically went to the spot where he’d just kissed her. It tingled and crackled like it was loaded with sparks and she didn’t know how to speak.

“Goodbye Astrid,” he whispered, voice cracking, when he sent one last sad smile her way before turning around and walking away.

The sight of his retreating figure knocked her brain out of its stupor. “Wait,” she called out, running after him into the rain. “I’ll see you around, right?”

He looked back at her with eyes so full of pain it broke her heart. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” With that, he left, hands buried in his pockets, head hanging low on his shoulders. There was one more sound of thunder in the nearer distance, but Hiccup took it away with him.

She stood there for a long while, hair and shoulders gradually soaking through, and stared after him until he had long disappeared from her sight. She knew he would always be her biggest what-if.

With the last drops of rain running down her face, she went back inside to her wedding.

_______________

- End of Part 1 -

_______________

#httyd #hiccstrid #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #eret #ruffnut #when lightning strikes #modern au #a bit of angst with a dash of drama #or the other way around #maja writes #ff #fic

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shiningamongdarkness · 4 years

Text

Chapter 25. Things are gonna be very different

Shining among Darkness

By WingzemonX

Chapter 25 Things are gonna be very different

When Carrie said there was nothing interesting about Chamberlain, it seemed she was not exaggerating at all. According to the little that Matilda was able to investigate on the Internet, it appeared to be a fairly ordinary small city, like hundreds of others that existed in the country. Its population was low, and the main engine of the economy was the textile factory. And basically, that was all.

The trip from Boston to there was about three hours by car, and by bus, it would surely take a little longer. Matilda thought about the experience that it must have been for a girl who had never left her town to do all that tour alone. Now she was the one making the opposite journey. Two days after her interview with Carrie, on a Monday in spring, she left Boston at mid-morning with her cup of coffee and her GPS showing the northeast route.

Back then, she was still in the process of acquiring her own vehicle in Boston for her personal use. I would be possible mainly by her adoptive mother's help since almost all of Matilda's savings had gone on the move and in conditioning her department and office. In the meantime, she chose to rent one, something that she had followed on her multiple trips.

She found some congestion when she was already entering Maine due to an accident, and ended up arriving at Chamberlain around two o'clock.

The only thing Lucy had found Was the address of Carrie's house and school. Her first option was to go to school and talk to her principal. However, she really didn't have any right to do it yet, because Carrie was not officially her patient. Right now, she was more a complete stranger from another city that was coming to intervene in a subject that did not concern her. The second option was to go to her house, but she had to be careful to not overstep the line. She drove to the address Lucy had given her on Carlin Street and parked on the opposite sidewalk. The house was white, relatively simple in appearance, even somewhat run-down despite being in a moderately sophisticated neighborhood. The grass in the front yard was slightly overgrown, and in some areas, it had darkened.

Matilda waited in the vehicle for half an hour, maybe a little longer. Carrie was leaving school at three, and if what Lucy had told her was right, she hoped she could see her coming down the street at any moment without delay.

The young reddish-blonde girl appeared just as she expected after twenty-past three. She walked down the street along the sidewalk, apprehensively holding her books, with her backpack on the back and her gaze fixed on the concrete. Matilda recognized her even from a distance. Not by her face or hairstyle, but by her posture and way of walking: always fearful and self-conscious as if she feared that someone was watching and judging her at every step.

Discreetly, Matilda got out of the vehicle, crossed the street, stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house, and waited there. Carrie kept her eyes so low, or perhaps she was so immersed in her own thoughts that she didn't notice her presence until she was close. Then she stopped a few meters from her and looked at her, at first somewhat confused but soon recognized her face, and then she jumped, almost scared, so much that she leaned back a little.

"Dra. Honey?!" The girl exclaimed, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

It was evident that she was not exactly happy to see her. Matilda smiled gently, trying to muffle the mood.

"I'm sorry to appear this way, but I didn't hear from you again."

"How did you know where I live?"

"We have our sources," Matilda replied neutrally. Carrie, for her part, looked at her suspiciously; her arms tightened on her books.

"What do you want?"

"Just keep talking to you. Our talk the other day was a little inconclusive."

"Sorry, I can't talk now," Carrie said hastily and stepped forward to turn her around and head straight for the house. "My mother is about to arrive, and she shouldn't see you here. Please go away."

"Listen, Carrie," Matilda said slowly, like a professor giving a lecture. "I know that right now, you are confused and scared, and the last thing you want is that someone finds out what is happening to you. But, even if it is not with your mother, you need someone to talk and count to cope with what may happen."

Carrie stopped halfway to her door and turned slightly toward Matilda, looking at her with an expression worthy of a frightened little dog. They both looked at each other in silence for a period in which Matilda assumed she was trying to decide how to answer, and she also wanted to give her the time he needed for that. If Carrie was planning to respond something, Matilda wouldn't know because, at that moment, the front door of the house opened wide, causing them both to turn in that direction at the same time with frightened eyes, like two girls who had just be caught in mischief.

"Carrie," the woman blurted out at the door, staring at the girl. She was a tall woman with a strong complexion. Her hair was a shade quite close to Carrie's, and it was styled back and braided. Her eyes were deep, severe, and an almost unreal blue sky. She wore a completely black dress that covered her completely, from the neck to the ankles.

Matilda felt slightly intimidated by that almost ethereal presence standing in the door, which did not take long to actually put her enigmatic eyes on her. Her face was hard and cold. She only remembered meeting a person before with that intensity, almost aggression, in her eyes... and was a person with whom she did not want to cross paths again.

"Mo... mo... mom!" Carrie finally managed to exclaim, after babbling incomprehensibly for a few seconds. "What are you doing here so early...?"

The woman ignored her question entirely. She then descended the steps of the door and walked with a firm run towards them. She passed Carrie aside, stood in front of her, and faced Matilda in a challenging and contemptuous way.

"Who are you?" The woman asked severely.

"Mom, she's already..." Carrie tried to explain something to her, an intense tremor in her voice. The woman in black, however, raised her hand to her at that moment without even looking at her, forcing her to remain silent with that single gesture.

Matilda remained firm to the situation. That woman must be Margaret White. Matilda didn't know she was home. In the time she was waiting in the car, she had not seen her enter. It was not precisely her intention to meet her now, but it was also a possibility she had to face.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. White," Matilda muttered affably, holding herself in place without taking a step back or forth. "I am Dr. Matilda Honey..."

"Doctor?" Margaret repeated, sounding as if that word was stinging her. "What kind of... doctor? What do you want here?"

"I am a psychiatrist. I came to talk to your daughter..."

"For what?" She interrupted abruptly again.

Matilda looked at Mrs. White for a moment, then turned to look at Carrie's fearful face over her shoulder, who seemed to beg her with her eyes to not say anything. To Matilda, all this brought to mind a distant memory of that night when Miss Honey came to her house, and her parents did not receive her in a friendly way, nor did they pay attention to what she said. Now she was in a very similar situation. Generally, in those two years, she had to go to places where people asked for help, not so much where she had to practically interfere in this way without being invited.

She took a deep breath, stood up straight, and looked at Mrs. White firmly.

"You sure know what happened a few weeks ago in Carrie's locker room at school, right?" Matilda asked normal, and Margaret White stared blankly at her, but not surprised or confused by her words, so she supposed she indeed know. "There is even a video on the internet circulating..."

"Internet," Margaret White snapped, annoyance caught in her throat as she spoke. "That thing is the window of the Dark One. Perversions and sins, all available and at the hand of anyone with a lack of faith, to take it and exult in their rot. But the Lord is our rock, and what happens outside our home will not harm us, especially on... the Internet."

Matilda froze, not sure what to answer to a speech like that. She glanced at Carrie. She looked at the ground in absolute silence.

"Yes, of course," Matilda murmured slowly, making an effort to not sound sarcastic. However, she felt that she had not succeeded. She cleared her throat a little before continuing to speak. "Still, I think it would be a good idea for your daughter to talk to someone. This situation can be tough..."

Margaret White suddenly took a big step forward, her eyes fixed almost wide on Matilda as if she were about to jump and hang her. Then she began to scream wildly.

"No one here needs the help of charlatans alienated from God, who promises to save the body and the mind, at the cost of sacrificing the immortal soul. If my daughter needs to put herself in the hands of someone, it will be only in the hands of God! He is the real way, not supposed doctors, messengers of the Dark One without even knowing it."

Margaret looked her up then down contemptuously as if he saw something disgusting. Matilda wasn't exactly upset, but instead... perplexed. Was what she said real? What distant year did that woman come from? Matilda did not lose her cool. She breathed again through her nose, holding herself back.

"With all due respect, ma'am, but Carrie is almost an adult. She has complete freedom to choose what she believes best."

Margaret hardened her face and leaned back as if she had offended her in the worst way. She then turned a little to her daughter, leaving her in the process again entirely in Matilda's range of vision. The young girl shyly looked up at her mother, submissively.

"Carrie," the woman snapped harshly. "Do you have anything you want to discuss with this... doctor?"

Carrie hesitated. She looked at her mother, looked at the ground, and then shrugged at Matilda.

"Thank you, but I don't need your help, Dra. Honey," Carrie whispered slowly. "Only God's."

Matilda was disappointed, but not surprised. That short and almost surreal conversation gave her a slightly broader picture of what the young girl was dealing with.

"You already heard it," Mrs. White declared harshly. Then she took Carrie by the arm and started pulling her toward the house. The girl followed without much opposition. "Now, get out of my property, or I'll call the police."

Matilda stood in her place, silently watching as they entered the house and then slammed the door behind them roughly. She stood there a few seconds more, stunned, but then started walking towards the vehicle.

Carrie White's situation was much worse than she thought.

— — — —

Matilda spent the afternoon touring Chamberlain and doing a little more research about Carrie and her mother. As is common in small towns, people tend to be kind to strange visitors, but not very forthcoming when it comes to their neighbors' personal issues. Margaret White, however, seemed to have certain particular fame among some locals. They did not hesitate as much to express their opinion about her. They used different words, some more friendly, others quite the opposite. Still, the average seemed to be inclined to consider her too eccentric, too strict with her religious beliefs, even by the standards of a strongly religious person, and too introverted and lonely. She didn't use to interact with almost anyone in town except for the people with whom she worked, and in reality, she did not do much with them either. Some disparagingly described how she spent her time telling everyone that they would go to hell for anything or nothing. Also, Matilda heard about some altercations that had happened, some even that could be classified as violent.

Margaret White was quite a character, saying it in a friendly way. It was impossible not to see how her influence had fallen on Carrie, creating her personality so withdrawn and insecure. In any teenager, that would be a time bomb, but Carrie was not just any teenager; she was something else.

Matilda spent the night right there in Chamberlain at a small inn. She contacted Eleven to inform her about everything she had discovered, and she seemed genuinely puzzled. However, for better or worse, Margaret White was still Carrie's mother, and she was still a minor. There were lines that they couldn't just cross despite her abilities. Matilda knew this, but she suggested trying to make one last approach to Carrie. Even if she couldn't treat her officially or directly without her mother's permission, in a few months, when she turned eighteen, that would no longer be a problem. But it would be important for the young girl to know that when the moment came, there would be someone who would lend her a hand. Eleven agreed, though not without warning her to be careful about what she would do.

Since Carrie's house was totally inappropriate terrain, Matilda had to choose the second-best option: her school.

During one of the breaks that day, Carrie spent hours in the library, reading more books about the subject that occupied her so much and surfing the Internet for the same purpose. Once she was done there, she took three of the books, borrowed them from the librarian, and then headed to her next classroom. She cut her way through the football field, which at that time was totally alone. She was walking a little hastily, her books hugging her tightly because she was late.

"Carrie!" She suddenly heard someone exclaim loudly behind, calling her. Carrie stopped and turned around, confused. Walking along the same path she came from, Matilda Honey approached precisely.

Carrie was startled.

"What are you doing here?!" She exclaimed, almost frightened. "You can't be here!"

"Listen," Matilda began to say calmly as she approached her, "I'm sorry for went to your house like that..."

"You must be sorry!" Carrie reproached her annoyed, and then quickly turned away. "You don't know... the problems it caused me..."

When she turned, her blond hair covered almost her entire face... but not enough. Among all that sea of blond and misaligned curls, Matilda managed to distinguish her reddened cheek and the mark of a recent blow between it and her temple.

"Carrie... did your mother hurt you?"

Matilda made a gesture to want to get closer, but Carrie quickly reacted, backing away to create more distance between them. That reaction seemed quite usual for abused children she had seen in her career. Matilda decided to keep her distance and not somehow trespass her space and make her more uncomfortable than she already was.

"Sorry, I know you think I'm meddling where you don't want me, but you have to understand that I'm trying to help you. Your situation is difficult, and your ability must be controlled before it becomes stronger and more difficult. I can help you..."

"I don't need your help," Carrie interrupted sharply, turning to look at her with overwhelming aggressiveness in her gaze. That was something Matilda had also seen in abused children before. "Just... leave me alone, please."

"Carrie..."

"Go away!"

With no intention of giving her any more opportunity to respond, Carrie turned quickly and began to walk hastily. Her haste was such that her feet failed her, entangling one another and causing her to fall to her knees. Instinctively she dropped the books she brought with her to stop with her hands, and they fell to the ground below her.

Carrie wasn't saying curses out loud, but one had ricocheted off her head right now. She felt no discomfort, but rather shame. Everything went wrong; now, she couldn't even walk without humiliating herself.

She looked at her dirt-covered hands and shook them hard, perhaps more than necessary, between them. She reached out to take one of the books, but when she wanted to do the same with the second... it rose in the blink of an eye.

Carrie froze at the sight of this. What was happening? Was she doing it herself? As she questioned it, she saw how the third book also rose from the floor along with the second. She came to think for an instant that she had lost control, and now those blissful powers were beginning to activate on their own. However, at that moment, both books started to rise higher and then passed over her head. Carrie stared after them, stunned, as they gently approached Matilda's outstretched hands, placing them one above the other.

Matilda smiled and approached her with the books in her hands. She stood directly in front of her and held them out to give them to her. However, Carrie was unable to take them; she just looked at her from below, her eyes filled with confusion and fear... but also quite a lot of admiration.

"You too…?" Carrie murmured, barely audible.

— — — —

Carrie was relatively late for her class, so they were probably not even going to miss her. But also if it hadn't, Matilda's small but meaningful demonstration was enough for Carrie to agree to speak to her again, now without reservation. They went to the bleachers on one side of the field so they could sit down, be comfortable, and talk quietly. They continued totally alone during all that time, so everything was more than perfect.

As they sat there in the sixth row from bottom to top, Matilda began to tell her more about who she was, and what the Foundation she represented really was. It was a speech she had shared with several children before, and that she would even tell Samara Morgan when they first met four years later. Carrie listened attentively, word for word.

"Shining?" The blonde girl exclaimed, somewhat intrigued by the term Matilda had just used in her story.

"It is the name we use internally within the Foundation," the Psychiatrist explained. "The term comes from our founder and teacher. In my case, it started showing up when I was six years old... six and a half years old, actually. My parents…" Matilda's face turned slightly serious at the time. "They weren't perfect... or close. Although, perhaps I am very unfair to them. After all, we had a nice and clean house, and I never lacked food or clothes. They didn't yell or hit me, more than usual or necessary. In fact, I think most of the time, they preferred to pretend I didn't exist. Even so, what affected me the most is that they never understood me... not one little bit. I spent those early years feeling like a freak, caught up with people I had nothing in common with, and for whom I was little more than a hindrance."

Matilda sighed slowly, sat up straight, and tried to clear her mind a little before continuing; Carrie was still watching.

"Everything got better when I started elementary school. Almost at the same time, I started doing this." At that moment, she extended her hand to the side, and from her bag, which she had placed down between her feet, her mobile phone rose, placing itself almost between her fingers. Even though Carrie herself had done similar and even bigger things, it seemed really exciting to see someone else do it too. "It took me a while to understand it, but I did it with a little practice. Not long after, my parents had to flee the country because of my father's dirty business. I stayed in my hometown, and I was adopted by my then school teacher. She is the sweetest, most charming, and exceptional woman I have ever had the good fortune to come across. My life was much happier since then, and it also allowed me to further develop my skills. As it grew, they became stronger and stronger. I was delighted with that…" Again, a marked seriousness appeared in his face. "Until I was thirteen. I was in my last year of high school..."

"Wait... At thirteen?" Carrie questioned, believing that maybe it had been some kind of mistake. But it was not like that. Matilda smiled at her in amusement and smoothed back her hair, already a little uncomfortable with the occasional blowing wind.

"I skipped a few years," she replied naturally. "The thing is, at that time, it was as if my skills had taken an exponential leap overnight. They started shooting uncontrollably, and the more scared or worried I got, the worse it was. It was like a destructive traveling time bomb."

"Could that happen to me?" Carrie inquired with interest, although she didn't exactly sound too worried about it.

"Probably, but don't panic. When it happened to me, my mother... my adoptive mother, I mean, looked for someone who could help me. And that's when I met Eleven."

"Eleven? Like the name of the Foundation?"

Matilda laughed a little.

"Obviously, not her real name, but it's how everyone calls her. She taught me to control myself, to keep my abilities calm, and to awaken them only when necessary. She doesn't like to be called that, but she was like my teacher back then. Like my Yoda or my Obi-Wan."

Carrie stared at her at the moment, not understanding.

"From Star Wars?" Matilda added, trying to clarify her reference, but Carrie kept looking at her the same way. "Never mind. What I'm trying to say is that maybe I didn't go through a situation exactly like yours. Still, I know what it's like to suddenly have these skills, and feel the excitement, the joy, but also the fear and confusion. Eleven helped me a lot to understand what was happening to me and how to control it, and I can do the same for you, Carrie. I have helped others like you before, and… I feel something special about you. The fact that your ability has manifested itself at an already more mature age, it might seem like a disadvantage. Still, it could be the opposite at the same time with the proper routing. Especially if you have someone who can teach and guide you. If you wish, of course."

The blonde girl under her gaze, somewhat shy and thoughtful. Her curly hair fell over her face, almost hiding it entirely in that reddish-blond suitcase, and her fingers intertwined and moved nervously on the skirt of her dress.

"I would love that, you don't know how much," she murmured slowly, with a small trace of a smile on his lips. "But... I don't have much money, and neither does my mother. And even if she did, she would never support me in something like this. You already met her, she wouldn't take this well if she found out."

"I don't do this for money, Carrie," Matilda informed her gently, but that didn't cause the girl to lift her face from his new one.

Matilda was silent, analyzing the possibilities. Having her mother really seemed like a lost cause. However, she would soon be eighteen, and at that point, whatever her mother wanted or didn't want, she only went as far as Carrie could tolerate. But if she dared, the ways to help her expanded significantly.

"Tell me one thing, what will you do once you graduate?" Matilda asked curiously. "Have you already thought about a university?"

Carrie laughed a little, ironically.

"No, not really," she murmured in a muffled voice. "University is for people who have the qualifications, the money, or the sufficient support of their parents... And I don't have any of the three things." She shrugged then and smiled a little forced at her. "I was planning to stay here, maybe work with my mother, or something else. There are not many other options for me, actually."

"Perhaps there are more than you think," Matilda pointed out with some intrigue. "Would you like to work with me in my office?"

Carrie stared at her, totally stunned.

"As my assistant and receptionist," added the brunette. "I would pay you for your help, obviously. I would teach you how to use your skills, and maybe you can study something else that interests you. And perhaps eventually apply for a scholarship from the Foundation, if you work hard enough."

Carrie couldn't get out of her amazement and confusion. Her lips parted a little intending to say something, but for a few seconds, no sound came from her. It was as if it was difficult for her to process the right words.

"Do you want to hire me as your assistant?" She murmured incredulously. "But... why would you want to do that? I'm not good at almost anything, I don't even know how to use a computer. I would be more of a hindrance than a help ..."

"I think you are much smarter and brighter than you think, Carrie. Those of us who shine are usually so. And I'm not saying it out of self-centeredness." She leaned toward her slightly, not invading her personal space too much, just enough to see her in front of her eyes. "But think about this: you have never used a computer, or left your city. But when you set your mind to it, you were able to find me and reach me. Have you not thought about what other things you would be able to do if you wanted to?"

Carrie averted her gaze as if Matilda's eyes somehow intimidated her. Then she looked down at her feet, somewhat thoughtful and doubtful.

"Listen," Matilda continued in a more serious tone, "I know I am a complete stranger, who perhaps has already crossed the professional line enough with all this. You have every right to mistrust me. But, if I can be honest with you, I really think you are an exceptional person, Carrie… even if you have a mother and classmates, who don't always appreciate you right now." Carrie raised her face slightly towards her at those moments. Matilda took the opportunity to smile at her as gently as possible, just as Jennifer Honey smiled at that little girl of six years old, long time ago. "But one day, things are gonna be very different."

Carrie, perhaps unconsciously, returned the smile, just as Matilda herself surely did to her somewhat naive elementary school teacher.

"I appreciate it, Dr. Honey," replied the young woman, still somewhat shrunken. "But I don't think I can leave my mother and go to Boston. It wouldn't be... the right thing to do."

"I know it looks that way at the moment. But sooner or later, you will have to make your own decisions and decide your own path. Although for this you have to go against your mother's wishes. In a few months, you will come of age. When that time comes, you will be legally free to take the path that suits you best."

Sure, she said it easy, but it wasn't as simple as that. There were adults of much older age who still could not completely detach themselves from their parents, the younger ones have even more reason, and also the children already near the age of majority. And especially if they had a mother like Margaret White.

Either way, Matilda was convinced that she had given her plenty to think about by now, and she shouldn't weigh her down anymore. She looked at her phone, which was still in her hands after taking it out of her bag with her powers, and turned on the screen for a second to see the time.

"I think I have to go," she said suddenly, standing up from the bleachers and putting her bag on her shoulder.

Carrie looked at her from her seat, almost worried.

"Already?"

"Yes, I must return to Boston before it is done later. Why don't you give me your cell number or email? This way, we can communicate more easily, and without disturbing your mother."

"I... I don't have a cell phone... or email ..." she replied shyly.

"Sure, I thought so."

Matilda rechecked the inside of her bag and took out a few moments later, another cell phone. This one looked smaller and older than the one she used regularly and held it out to the young woman in front of her.

"Here, it's yours."

"What?" Carrie exclaimed, almost frightened when she saw the device in front of her. "No, no, I can't..."

"Of course you can, it's my emergency phone. It is old, but it works. It already has my number saved and everything."

Carrie looked apprehensively at the phone and slowly raised her hands to it, holding it between her fingers as if it were the most delicate piece of crafts in the world. She held it in front of her face and stared at herself reflected in the dark surface of the dim screen, like a mirror made of black glass.

"If you need anything, just send me a message," the brunette said, drawing her out of her fascination. "And by the way, you can just call me Matilda. Agree?"

Before Carrie answered, she started to walk toward the stairs and then carefully down the stairs. Carrie followed her with her gaze.

"I hope we can see each other soon, and it won't be until your next birthday. Think about my proposal without pressure."

"Yes, I will," Carrie exclaimed with slight force, hoping she could hear her.

Carrie kept watching it go down until she reached the field again. Once there, Matilda turned to her and said goodbye with a casual wave of her hands, which Carrie answered, although not so effusively. Matilda immediately made her way to the main building. When she was no longer in Carrie's range of vision, Carrie stared silently at the phone between her fingers. She would spend several minutes there, almost half an hour, thinking about everything that this talk meant, or could mean.

Inevitably, she had to stand up and set off so as not to miss another class. Although, at that time, the classes didn't really matter to her.

****

Four years later, in the courtyard of the Eola Psychiatric Hospital, Matilda would perfectly remember all those few, although very significant, conversations she had with that girl. She would remember her face, her voice, her trembling eyes, and her shy smile. But above all, she would remember her horrible final image, which would remain forever tattooed in her memory since that horrendous night of May 25...

At that moment, the phone she was holding in her hands began to tremble and then to ring with significant force, since she was holding it very close to her face. This alarmed her. At first, by the sudden and drastic way in which it had broken the absolute silence in which she had hovered, and then by the fact that such a phone was not supposed to even be able to be switched on. It wasn't as bad as she really thought it was? As it was, he wouldn't question it much at the time.

She took a look at the screen, and although it seemed to be a little affected because it was somewhat diffuse, she did manage to see the name of the person who was calling: Jane Wheeler, as if it were some kind of cruel joke of fate... or surely it was something quite different from destiny. She debated with herself for a few moments whether to answer or not, but in the end, the answer seemed more than obvious. No matter what, she really needed to talk to Eleven right now, and maybe that's why she was calling her.

Matilda accepted the call and placed the phone to the side of her right ear, while with the opposite hand, she clutched her aching head a little.

"Do you fix telephones remotely now?" She murmured in a tone too serious to be joking."

"You were thinking about Carrie, right?" The voice of her mentor on the other end of the line questioned her bluntly. "Cole shouldn't have told you that. I understand what he wanted to do, but he shouldn't have done it that way. I'm sorry."

Matilda laughed a little inside. At this point, no one questioned how Eleven knew anything; you always had to take it for granted that she might be seeing you right now, which could be a little scary at times.

"You're ok?" Eleven asked quietly. Matilda sighed and leaned her body forward, almost as if she wanted to hide her head between her thighs.

"No... I'm not ok," she answered in a heavy voice. "Her mother and her classmates made that girl's life hell. But I... I did something much worse to her, something much crueler..."

There was a second of silence, and then Eleven took it upon herself to finish his statement:

"You gave her hope."

Hope, that which managed to move so many, but in the end, could also make others fall so hard. Matilda took a deep breath and allowed herself to close her eyes slightly, thoughtful.

"And now, I'm doing it again with Samara..."

END OF CHAPTER 25

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

—As with Carrie, Margaret White's portrayal will be primarily based on Carrie's 2013 film version, with some aspects of Stephen King's original novel.

—For the moment, the story of Carrie and Matilda will stay here to resume the plot of the present in the next chapter. But don't worry, everything else that happened back then will be revealed in the story progresses in later chapters.

#Matilda Wormwood #matilda #carrie white #margaret white #carrie #eleven #jane eleven hopper #stranger things #shining among darkness #resplandor entre tinieblas #fanfic #wingzemonx

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