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zahneundklauen-retired · 3 years

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Blood Demands Blood || Alcher, Kaden and Ariana

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup, @zahneundklauen and @letsbenditlikebennett LOCATION: Near Lyssa’s Peak SUMMARY: Kaden and Alcher finally come face to face. CONTENT: Parental death mention, Sibling death mention, Gun use, Suicidal Ideation

It was a normal night, just like any other. The air was cool, ripe with the early spring that had brought pollen and plants and danger into White Crest. Alcher paid little mind to it, despite the pollen sticking to her nose and clouding her senses every now and then. Ariana had given her something, though, a little pill called an “antihistamine”. She didn’t know exactly what it was, except that it helped clear up her nose and get her back to normal.

But tonight wasn’t about pollen or medicine or anything else going on. Tonight was about a feud that had been started three decades ago.

She remembered the ring of the first gunshot. It had shattered the front window and her mother had dove for her children, grabbing Dearg from the stage and shoving Lutz away from the windows. Her father had used his haunches to lift the table and flip it into the window, blocking line of sight as another shot rang out. He roared as a silver bullet smashed through the oak table and pierced his shoulder.

The gunshots had been a distraction. Around the back hunters crept with torches and flashbangs. They soared through the other windows and into the kitchen, the living room, the grand hall. Wooden spires burned.

All of this before Alcher had even reacted. The house lit up in moments, spurred on by gas and alcohol thrown with the torches. The flames and smoke choked the wolves inside, and it was then that they realized the poison in their veins.

Klaus had coughed, sputtered. He had seen his sister, his only sister, the next leader of the pack, racing towards the main room from the back. Of course she would try and save people, save her siblings, her mother, her father. She would die trying. He knew what he had to do. Klaus had leapt at the door and slammed it shut with his shoulder. The smoke was filling his lungs and he barely heard his sister screaming, scratching, pounding at the door. She wanted to help so bad, but he wouldn’t let her die. He wouldn’t. “Live,” he had said to her, “live for us.”

Alcher had covered her mouth and crawled frantically around the room. The poison in her blood had made her slow and tired. She managed to scrape open the fireplace, the flu. Claws tore at brick as she hoisted herself up, clinging to the tiny space as hard as possible.

And there she’d waited, for what felt like hours, listening to her family scream in agony as they burned to death or suffocated. All of them. She’d tried to cover her ears but it hadn’t worked.

And when the fire had settled and the hunters had all left, Alcher fell from the chimney into the remains of her family home, with the charred bodies of her pack, and the last remnants of her life gone forever.

It had been over three decades since that day. Today, it would all end. One way or another, it would all end.

Alcher looked back down from her gaze up at the outline of the moon on the dusk horizon. “You came,” she said, her voice thick and hollow, “I commend you.”

Nothing would keep Kaden from reaching the spot in the woods they’d agreed to. Not the pollen, not the plants, not a single damn monster in this town. There was only one that mattered. Every slice through the flora with his machete felt like meditation, a metronome counting down to a long awaited moment.

Waiting, he remembered the waiting, the hope that his parents would show up at the door even though it had been well over a day since they said they’d be back. They must have just found another monster, got caught up in shit. He didn’t expect to see Oscar when the door finally swung open.

Their bodies were barely recognizable, mauled and torn apart into pieces. There was still no doubt that it was them. He’d have known the sight of his world falling apart anywhere.

Oscar told him to wait to hunt the wolf, they would regroup, get them in time. He didn’t wait, he wouldn’t. He’d nearly died. Every single fucking time Kaden was on the brink of getting his fucking revenge, something went wrong. And he had to sit and wait. And hope that he’d get another chance.

Kaden was done waiting.

There was plenty to take care of in town, a lot happening, as usual. Death was everywhere in White Crest.He knew his duty was to protect the town from monsters, to keep humans safe as they could be in a place like this. Maybe that should be tending to the plants and the roots cropping up around town. Kaden didn’t care. This wasn’t just revenge, this was keeping the town safe. This was going to ensure no one else would have their family ripped away from them.

As he pushed through to the clearing, he expected to see a wolf waiting there for him in the dusty dusk light. Instead, she appeared like the woman he’d met in the coffee shop, the lie. His teeth gnashed against each other as he tossed his machete to the side, swapping it for a silver blade. “I don’t need your fucking commendations,” he spat back at her. “Of course I fucking came. It’s about time we ended this.”

Alcher rolled her neck, hearing it pop a little. She couldn’t help the excitement rushing through her body at the moment. The anticipation of a hunt always made her anxious, and the coming of the full moon was making her muscles buzz. She was ready to fight. She was ready to kill. This was what she had to do, she had to end it. The pillar had shown her the right decision, but the one she’d made was this one, and now she had to see it through. Besides, the hunter was no longer a child. He no longer deserved her mercy.

Tugging off her jacket, she dropped it behind her and stepped forward into the light. She made sure to put her prosthetic foot out first, so he could see it. So he could see the damage his family had caused her. If she was going to face the mistakes of her past, then he would face the mistakes of his own as well. Of his father’s, his mother’s. They’d left her alive and that had been their downfall. She’d left him alive, but she would not let him be her downfall.

She tapped the leg. “Did you ever ask why the three-legged wolf only had three legs?” she said, tilting her head as she walked casually around the grove. A predator sizing up its prey. No…a predator sizing up its enemy. A competition of territory. An endless battle. “Surely you must have wondered at some point. Why would I kill your parents specifically? Did you tell yourself it was meaningless? That I did it simply because that is what I am, a killer? A wild animal? Perhaps it was just chance, bad luck on their part, that they ran across me during that moon. Tell me, what lie did you make up for yourself? I am curious.”

Kaden’s knuckles went pale as the shining silver blade they were wrapped around. There the monster stood in front of him, trying to make herself appear human. As if she could. Why? Did she want pity? To tap into some sort of empathy within him? Make him softer, easier to fight? Wasn’t going to happen. “No,” he said sharply. “Because I don’t fucking care.” It didn’t matter how many legs she had, he would tear into her all the same.

His other hand hovered over the pistol in his pocket, wondering if he should cut to the chase and get this all over with, put the nail in the coffin for good.

The muscles in his chest pulled tight; he wasn’t sure if it was from holding himself back or the anger burning through him. He didn’t care about the beast’s reasons or if there was some fucking meaning or ulterior motive. It didn’t matter. They were dead whatever her fucking reason was. “They were on a hunt for a wolf. They didn’t fucking stumble in blindly.” His mind raced to try and piece together the rest. All he ever told himself was that he was the reason their mission failed. If he had been there, if they had one more hunter with them, it might have been different. But instead they insisted he wasn’t ready. A few weeks later, he proved them right by nearly dying to claws of the same wolf, the one standing across from him now. His jaw ached, he could feel his eyes starting to sting. Kaden gripped his pistol, silver bullets loaded and ready, and pointed it at the monster. He should pull the trigger, be done. “If you’re going to talk make it fast.”

“Really?” Alcher said back, feigning surprise. “You really never asked yourself if that was the truth? That they were simply hunting another wolf when I came across them?” Her eyes narrowed as the gun lifted. She could smell the silver. It didn’t matter. Once she changed, she would disappear into the shadows and tear him apart. She stopped walking and bent down, undoing one of the clasps on her prosthetic. “You know,” she started out slowly, leaning back against a tree, “Ariana asked me to not go after you. I promised her I would not. You supposedly mean something to her.” The red hot anger in her chest burned at the thought. Ariana had made a mess of herself in befriending not one, but two hunters. Something needed to be done about that. There was no more brushing it aside. “Then again, this is not me coming after you, is it?” She undid the second clasp. “This is just two people, meeting in a quarry.”

She removed the leg and set it next to the tree, dropping down onto hands and knees, not changing quite yet. She still had something more to say. Perhaps she’d even let herself lose control, shift half-way, and truly become the monster he thought she was. “It was no chance I happened upon your parents, Kaden Langley,” she snarled, teeth growing sharp, gold eyes now glowing in the dim light. “I hunted them down mercilessly after I killed all their friends along the way.” Nails grew sharp to match, piercing the dirt in the ground. Her voice grew rough, like a snarl. “I killed them because they killed my family!” she roared, bones cracking, fur sprouting. She sprinted at him, a crazed look in her eyes, claws outstretched. “You can call me a monster all you want, but your parents are the ones who burned my little brothers alive!” A swipe. “And my mother, my father,” the pain in her voice was turning into ire. “They took everything from me! I took pity on you, gave you mercy.” She spat on the ground. “And yet here you are, standing before me as if your vengeance is more righteous than mine.” Her lip curled up in a smirk. “You may not think you are a monster, but you are certainly the child of some.”

“The truth?” Kaden shot back. Every word from her lips made his blood curdle a little more. “The fucking truth is you killed the only family I had!” He flipped the safety off, uninterested in whatever tale she had to spin. The reasons didn’t matter, all that mattered was the results. He could feel the rage about to boil over, his aim almost shaking as he held tight to the gun, trying to contain the anger. The fact that she had the gall to casually lean against a tree, putain, he should fucking shoot her now, maybe then she’d take him seriously. His finger was on the trigger when she mentioned Ari. “What’d you say?” A pit dropped in his stomach, first with shock, worry, but it turned again to anger. “You stay the fuck away from Ariana.” He should have figured that the younger wolf had met others in the area, but the thought of her being anywhere near this monster let alone close with her, it sickened him. Fuck. It should sicken him that he even gave a shit about a werewolf. What would his mother say? The same question the monster across the way had asked him not long ago, he could almost hear them ringing in his ears. The pistol was wobbling back and forth by now. Fuck. Kaden lowered his arm, shoving the knife in its sheath again and taking the gun with both hands, holding it lower than before. He couldn’t show any weakness. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t soft. And he was going to kill this monster.

His breathing grew heavier as he approached her, every footfall deepening the shade of red he saw, every word she spat like poison in his ears. He hated this monster, despised it for decades. Then he had thought it was just a beast, a brute. Now he knew better. By her own fucking confession. She hadn’t just ripped his life apart in a twist of unfortunate fate, she had planned it. “I don’t want your fucking mercy,” he shouted back. “I want some goddamn justice,” he said, raising the gun back up at level to fire at the monster shifting into its true form.

Alcher lowered herself, nearly to the ground. Limbs cracked and bones split as she shifted more and more. Golden eyes flashed up at the hunter. “You and I both know,” she growled, face contorting into a snout, sprouting fur, “there is no such thing as justice in this world.” And it was fine, then, if he didn’t want mercy. She wouldn’t hold back. She would rip his throat out and show it to Ariana and tell her that this, this is what she would get if she continued to think hunters were anything but killers. The transformation finished and there would be no more talking. It was time to fight.

Alcher lunged right for him, but swerved at the last moment, disappearing into the shadows of the trees, her sleek form small but light, making barely a noise as she ran through the bushes, looking for an opening. His hearing would afford him the ability to locate her easier, but she still had the upper hand– she had the moon. Alcher leapt and pushed off a tree, claws outstretched, aiming for his back. This world had no honor just as much as it had no justice.

The second he saw her, it, the monster who haunted his nightmares, pummeling towards him Kaden held his ground and pulled the trigger, shot booming through the forest. The beast swerved away, he missed, and threw himself to the side to avoid any claws. He wouldn’t miss again. When he pushed up to his feet, he saw he was alone, nothing but him and the trees. Coward. Kaden focused, listened not just to the sounds around him, but his hunter senses. His spine tingled as he heard the sound of claws scraping against bark. The ranger spun around and took another shot, again tossing himself out of her reach. Not quite fast enough; talons shared through his side, ripping his shirt. Blindly, Kaden fired off the rest of the round where the wolf should be. No time to reload. Not yet. He tore out his knife and sprinted towards the monster.

A bullet grazed her shoulder and Alcher snarled at the pain. Silver burned. She skid to a stop, blood on her claws, whipping her head around to find the hunter, ducking away as more shots rang out, blindly fired. One hit a tree by her head. She gave a loud roar and leapt back for him, barreling into him as she disappeared into the shadows behind him once again. Blood matted the black fur on her shoulder as she paced silently through the trees, sizing him up, looking for any weaknesses. He was just a boy, she had years on him. She had more blood on her paws. She would not lose this. She would not lose Ariana.

There. She noticed how he favored his leg. This time she shot out from the bushes like a shadow herself, teeth and claws aimed for his leg. She craved blood. She wanted blood.

Kaden was knocked back down, tumbling back before he could find his feet. Focus. He had to focus. Be his best. No, the best. His mother’s voice, her constant corrections in training ran through his mind. He’d do his family proud. He’d live up to his legacy even if it was the last thing he did. He snapped back towards the wolf, gritting his teeth against the pain in his side as he twisted to face her. When he pushed off towards the beast, his leg wavered under him, pain shooting through him from the swipe he took in his calf in the cemetery the other day. He’d aimed his knife high, going for her already injured shoulder, but the monster ducked low, teeth sinking into his leg, the same one. Kaden swung his blade wildly as he screamed, all finesse and precision gone in his pain. He kicked out at her with his free leg, desperately fighting to get the vermin off of him, and plunged the knife into any piece of flesh it could find.

Jaws closed around flesh and Alcher tasted blood. Hunter blood. How she loved the taste of it. A booted foot slammed into the side of her head but she kept hold of his leg, yanking back and popping the bone from its socket. She remembered how sweet the fae’s blood had tasted when they had fought like this. A child seeking vengeance for the death of their parent by Alcher’s hand. She’d done that fae a favor, freed her from her lying, hunter father. This boy, however, wasn’t like her. She would free him from this world by taking his life.

But as she went to shake her head, leg still in her jaws, a silver knife pierced her ribs and she let go of his leg with a howl. Raised a paw and swiped at his face before she scattered backwards, twisting around for the knife, yanking it from her flesh. She could smell her skin and fur burning as she launched the knife away into the bushes. Then, slowly, she turned back to the hunter. The boy. She could almost remember exactly what he’d looked like, cowering under her last time. Just a child. She should’ve killed him then. Dripping with blood, from her mouth, her claws, her fur– this time it was his instead of his parents’. As she stood up on her hind legs, glowering down at the bloodied man beneath her, she remembered her promise to not grant him mercy. Paws hit the ground again and she snarled. Run.

She wanted a chase.

Kaden’s vision changed from red to white as the pain burned through his leg. He tried to hold back his scream, remain strong, he could deal with his injuries later. Now he had to fight. He scrambled backwards, but not fast enough to avoid the sting of sharp claws swiping his face. No. This wasn’t how it was going to go. He wasn’t going to let this monster kill off the last Langley. His shout of pain shifted to a scream of rage. He reached for his blade, but it was gone. Shit. He fumbled for this pistol, the one he hadn’t fucking reloaded. As he glanced up, he shot back to another time, another place. He was younger, greener, and the air was colder and the world felt harsher. This was the same sight he’d seen before, the same metallic taste of his own blood in his mouth, the same moment right before he was sure he was going to meet his end. The same fear shot through him then as it did now at the thought. Kaden tried to steel himself, push it away, but his shallow breaths betrayed him.

The beast bore down at him and he winced, flinching away. No more pain came. Just snarling and spit. Seconds mattered out in the field. Kaden hated himself for wasting a single one in fear. He pushed himself off the ground, stumbling under his injured leg, but sprinting towards where he’d seen the knife land all the same. He just had to get his weapon in hand and he could take back control. This was his fight to lose.

If a wolf could smile, Alcher’s would be wicked. The hunter took off, limping on his injured leg. She watched him go, smelled his blood on the air, tasted it on her teeth. She rolled her shoulders and felt the sting of silver in her side. This was getting fun. She hadn’t been able to enjoy a good fight in some time. There were few around who could match her strength. There was a reason, after all, why she’d lived so long.

Paws scraped at the ground again as she took off in a sprint. She enjoyed the hunt, the thrill of it making her muscles crackle. So consumed with her prey– yes, he was prey now. He was prey the moment she tasted his blood– and the moon, nothing else mattered. She ran faster, panting, ramming into his injured side, whipping around and ramming into him again. She wanted to hunt. She wanted to kill. Her mother had always told her not to play with her food but her mother wasn’t around anymore. Alcher stood on hind legs again and swatted at the hunter, a cackle like howl gurgling in her throat. She was enjoying this. She liked killing. She would always like killing. It didn’t matter how much had changed since she’d come to White Crest, the previous decades of her life had been nothing but killing and Alcher knew that she would be nothing but a killer.

Her tail swished once, and then she pounced.

Knife in hand, Kaden spun around to face the monster only to it barreling towards him. He dug his leg in, tried to brace himself, and managed to stand through the first slam. The second sent him tumbling back. He held tight to the knife, nothing else mattered. As long as he had the blade, he had a chance. Felt appropriate that he’d named this one Last Chance of all things. This wasn’t going to be his last chance, no. Fuck that. This was hers. He let the pain that coursed through him turn into adrenaline, feeling the pounding in his chest, his blood pumping through him even as it spilled from his side and from his leg. She batted at him again, and again he concentrated on the rush instead of the sting. When she pounced towards him, his knife was ready, slashing out at her one good hind leg as all three came towards him, pinning him down. The beast growled, and so did Kaden as he twisted the silver deep into its leg, pulling it out to aim for the chest. One last chance before the pain took over, before the claws sunk deeper into his shoulders. One last chance to secure his legacy.

The silver dug into Alcher’s leg and she roared again, head whipping around, teeth finding flesh and metal. She reared her head, knocking the knife away again, lifting her paws before slamming them back down on his chest. Opened her mouth and let out an enormous roar that echoed through the trees. Birds went scattering from the tops of them. Her jaw clenched closed and she looked down into his eyes, his pale face, stained with blood shining in the moonlight. This, she said with her eyes, this was what your legacy amounted to. It amounted to nothing. Just like hers. They were both nothing, and it was time for this feud to end. Her jaw opened as her claws pinned his arms and she lowered her mouth to his neck. It was time to end this.

Something was wrong. From the moment Ariana stepped into the cabin to check in with Alcher before the full moon and was greeted by no one, she felt her stomach flipping. It was possible she went out into the woods early, but that rationalization didn’t feel quite right either. The worry for both Alcher and Kaden that had left her in a constant state of restlessness these past few weeks didn’t allow her to fool herself into believing this was a best case scenario sort of deal. When had her life ever been? The only thing she could do was follow her nose and leave that sinking feeling behind as she ran. With only hours until the full moon, her senses were all on high alert. It was easy enough to find her trail, still fresh. Normally, she’d keep some sense of stealth padding through the forest, but there was no time for that. She ran as fast as her body would carry her with no regard for the snaps of twigs and stones under her feet. The further she followed her nose, the more panicked she became. The smell of blood was drenching the air and something else familiar. Wood, spice, and sweat. No. Her heart leapt into a full on panic and thudded erratically against her chest. It only served to make her breath more haggard as she pushed her legs to move even faster. She could hear the clear sounds of a fight now. The struggle, the growls, the grumbles, and tumbling. A fight she could deal with, if only she made it there fast enough. When she finally saw them, grappling for control and both bleeding, she screamed, “No!” Everything in her was pleading for them to just stop. For this whole bullshit cycle of vengeance and violence to just end. “Please,” she pleaded as she charged to try and pull them apart.

So enthralled with her prey, Alcher hadn’t sensed Ariana’s approach at all. Not until the girl was crying out and Alcher could smell her sweat and hear her heart pounding. The black wolf turned its head away from the hunter and towards the pup. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Alcher was supposed to finish him off and stumble back and tell her that it was over, that he’d come for her and she’d ended it. And Ariana would be sad for a while, but then she’d realize that this was all for the better. That there was no way for hunter and wolf to live in harmony. That eventually, if he was allowed to live, he would turn on Ariana, too. That whatever exception he seemed to be making for her would give out eventually. It always did. She just wanted her to see that. She just wanted Ariana to be safe. And so she let go of the hunter.

Kaden used every piece of strength he possessed to try and push the wolf away, to kick the beast away from him. This wasn’t over, this couldn’t be over. His teeth ground together as he strained against the monster, hot breath steaming along his neck. He shut his eyes and wondered if this was what his parents felt. He saw them, he saw Regan, Celeste, all in flashes, and he swore he heard Ari.

Kaden’s eyes shot open and turned to see her. She was really there. Fear flooded through him as he saw her. Not for him, for her. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t rationalize, just felt the deep need to push her out of here, get away from all of this. She shouldn’t be here. Why was she here? Before he could piece this all together, the weight lifted off of him and he scrambled away, fumbling for his pistol and the silver bullets, his hands shaking. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn’t get them to load in the fucking gun. He couldn’t– he couldn’t… He could barely see, his vision fading in and out a moment, his head felt light. “Get out of here,” he told the girl he’d come to see like a sister. “This–” isn’t your business. But he couldn’t finish the sentence.

There was no sense of relief to be found. Not even as Alcher let go of Kaden and he put distance between them. He was still fumbling with his gun and Ariana felt glued in place. Normally, she was so ready to spring into action, but the opponent had always been clear before. This felt like she was being ripped in two, unable to jump into action, paralyzed by the affection she felt for both of them. Kaden’s words only just registered in her mind and she shot him a sharp glare. She wasn’t going anywhere, that was the only thing that felt certain. “No.” Her voice came out shaky and raw with emotion at first. Such a contrast to the stoic ferocity Alcher possessed. “No,” she said, this time stronger. Her glare flicked between the both of them as she finally remembered herself and pushed her feet forward. If she could just get between them, keep them away from each other, it’d be okay. Maybe they’d hate her, but at least they’d be alive to hate her. There was so much she wanted to say. She wanted to go on and on about how this cycle of revenge would never be enough. No amount of violence would ever take away the pieces of their hearts that were lost along the way. But the words never came. “Please,” she begged, slowly getting closer to them, “This has to stop. This whole back and forth.” Not very convincing, but she could barely hear her own thoughts over the way her heart hammered on in her ears.

Alcher didn’t move as the hunter scrambled away. She let her body fade from wolf back to humanoid, clothes tattered, covered in blood. Sharp eyes turned back toward the hunter as he fumbled for his gun. Alcher felt suddenly tired. She shifted enough to sit up onto her knee, resting the stub of her amputated leg on the ground. She looked from Ariana to the hunter and wondered what he might do. If he would kill her. “What now, then?” she said thickly, wiping blood from her face and licking it off her hand. Golden eyes flashed. “We part ways only to do this again? And again?” She couldn’t stand, but even if she did have her prosthetic, she didn’t think she’d be able to. She was bleeding worse than she wanted to admit. Her blood was pooling beneath her. “Or will you walk away from what you have craved for so long? What is worth more to you?” She glanced at Ariana, holding up a hand in warning. Do not come closer. She feared the hunter, trembling in pain and confusion, might miss his aim. “Your vengeance or your love?”

The bullets found their way into the pistol and the pistol into his hand. Kaden pulled himself to his feet only to lose his balance, reaching out for a tree to steady himself. He wiped blood from his face with the back of his hand, still holding the gun casually. He was ready to raise it to the monster, finish this, when the beast he’d hunted for so long faded away. “No,” he said. “Turn back.” He raised the gun at her as if it made any damn difference. “Turn back!” he shouted. He didn’t want to kill the facade, the human face she put on to blend in, he wanted to kill the monster, the vermin who shattered his world.

He almost forgot about Ariana, so close and so far removed from this at the same time. Kaden turned to catch her eye, saw the fear and panic in her. His heart sunk for a moment, but the anger found its way back to the surface as he looked back to the monster. “This has nothing to do with her,” he spat back, gun still raised.

Alcher kept her hand raised in a halting gesture to Ariana. “It has everything to do with her,” Alcher said simply. “I stopped because of her. You are alive right now because of her.” She shifted, pulling herself up to stand, holding onto a tree herself to stay standing. She leaned back against it. Her other hand pressed to her side. The silver had burned the edges of the wound and left it open. It had hit an organ. Her world was going dark. She’d lived a long time in the dark. “I spared you because you were a child,” she finally said, her voice raw but no longer angry. She looked upon the hunter with nothing but pity. “Maybe if your parents had done the same, neither of us would be in this situation.”

The only thing Kaden could manage to hold steady was the gun in front of him. Well, mostly steady. Good enough. I spared you because you were a child. His brows knit together and the words rattled around his mind. Ari’s presence just a few meters away hung over him. Celeste was a hunter and had spared her because she was a child. And the monster… she? She spared him? He had always wondered how he didn’t die back in the forest in Lyon, but he didn’t ever think that would be the reason. “You–” None of this made sense. Not one damn thing. This was supposed to be easy. Cut and dry. Black and white. Over and done. “The hell does that even mean? What– What are you saying? That–” Kaden shook his head, as if it would clear the thoughts, but nothing made any fucking sense anymore.

“I mean I looked down at you and I saw myself,” Alcher said simply. She drew in a deep, shaky breath, holding a moment before letting it go. “When I killed your parents, I did not know they had a child. I did not care. I did not think they cared to know the children they killed. My brother’s. Dearg was not even a decade old. Lutz just barely so.” He was faltering, she could see it. Just a little more. If she was going down, so was he. “Did you know they begged?” she muttered, a nasty smile curling onto bloody lips. “Your parents. It makes sense now. They begged me not to kill them. I asked them, if my brother’s had begged, would they have spared them? But I knew the answer. And I enjoyed it. Killing them. That was my purpose.” She leaned forward, standing on her one leg, bloody hand pressed to the tree. They were no more than ten feet apart. He wouldn’t miss if he shot. “I will never stop,” she told him firmly, “we both know that. And the lesson I learned from you, Langley, was that mercy is a weakness.”

The mere suggestion that they were at all the same flared the anger inside him once more. If he wasn’t saving his strength for the killing blow, he’d have told her he didn’t give a fuck about her siblings, either. But that smile. That fucking smile. Kaden pushed himself forward, hobbling towards the werewolf, gun still in hand. The image of his parents begging for life just before she took it from them was all that was seared into his mind as he came closer and held the pistol to her chest, finger ready to pull the trigger as he did his best to stand up straight and not collapse under the injuries and pain. “Fine,” he said, finger on the trigger, ready to end this. “Then I’ll make you. I take it you won’t beg.” Mercy is a weakness. She was right. His mother had said something similar. She’d be proud of him now. Just one thing left to do.

The scene before Ariana had her frozen in place. Alcher’s hand commanded as much and while it wouldn’t be the first time she went against her wishes, for a moment she thought maybe the older wolf was getting through to Kaden. But then it turned sour. Her words bore the same ferocity as her teeth and claws and Ariana felt any sense of hope she had disappeared. The unpleasant twist in her stomach was ignored as she tried to weasel her way in closer, but Kaden was already closing in on Alcher before she could even fully take in the shift in the air. The tension only grew. “Kaden, please.” The shaking in her voice matched the shaking in her hands. So torn between the both of them and so tired of all of this. “Both of you, just please, stop.” She couldn’t remember ever hearing this much desperation in her own voice, but so much was on the line. If they didn’t stop, she lost either way. Deep down, she knew there was no outcome where she didn’t lose.

“Was it okay, then?” Alcher asked, not looking away as the hunter stumbled forward. She couldn’t run even if she wanted to. “Was the slaughter of my family justified because we are not human? Is that what you tell yourself? That you are not like me, you are not a monster, because you do not kill people?” She grit her teeth. “How long before you turn those views on Ariana? If we are but monsters, what does that make her? Are you telling me she is a monster to you? That as soon as you deem her dangerous, you will put this gun to her chest?” She reached out with her hand and grabbed the barrel of the gun, holding it in place. “Look in my eyes, hunter. Look in my eyes and know that if you kill me, then you are no better than me. Kill me as a human and face the truth behind your lies.”

His fingers were on the trigger, his eyes locked on her’s. This was almost over. All he had to do was fire a shot, brace himself for the kickback, and walk away. Before he could steel himself, he heard Ari’s voice. In his blind rage, he almost forgot she was right there, watching this whole scene play out a few steps away. Kaden saw her face, the desperation and the tears and he felt himself wavering, his hand going to pull away. There it was again, the hesitation, the doubt; two things he always seemed to find when in her presence.

The monster’s question snapped him back to reality, what hesitation meant. It meant death. Mercy is what left Lydia alive while he walked away, something he regretted to this day. He endangered Ariana, Regan, and so many others then. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. His eyes narrowed as he stared into the golden eyes staring back at him, challenging him. “She’s nothing like you,” he said, pushing the barrel of the gun further into her chest. He knew that much. She wasn’t. Ari would neve be as cruel and disgusting as the beast at the end of his pistol. Even though she had… No, that didn’t fucking matter. It wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same. She wanted the cycle of violence to end, she’d said as much at one point. She wanted peace and a better world. The Krieg wolf was right about one thing; she’d never stop. She’d keep killing and continue the violence over and over. What was worse was she’d try to pull Ari into her vortex. There was only one way to stop this, to end it for good. He couldn’t show mercy.

The gunshot was deafening. The sound pulsed through the forest as Kaden reeled back from the impact of the silver bullet piercing the wolf’s chest. Blood poured out, gushing.

That was it. It was over. He’d fulfilled his revenge, his legacy. Got his justice.

Why did he feel so hollow as he stumbled backwards onto the forest floor, watching the scene play out in front of him? The one he’d pictured over and over in his mind. Somehow, it was never like this. The final moments, the final hunt, the final feelings of anger flushing away. It was like a distorted view, a manipulated photo in the frame. Only this was the reality. This was it. The end of his revenge.

Alcher’s body slumped to the ground, back pressed to the tree. Her blood smeared along the bark, pouring from the silver hole in her chest. The world was fading away, pain overtaking everything else. She didn’t cry, she didn’t yell, she stayed silent as death creeped up her body and into her bones. A hand to her chest, she looked up at the hunter, stumbling away, looking at the scene of his revenge. She managed one last smile. “Es braucht ein monster, um ein monster zu töten.” It takes a monster to kill a monster. It was the one lesson she’d learned in her life. She had been a monster and she always would be. There was nothing more for her in this life than that. She could have had more, but she’d made the wrong choice. This was always going to be the end. No matter what future the watch had shown her, this was the one she’d been destined for.

Her breath left her with the smile still on her face, head slumping forward.

She was going home now.

For a fraction of a second, Ariana thought she may have gotten through to Kaden. His face faltered at the sound of her voice and she’d let herself grab onto an inkling of hope. If there was one thing she should have known by now, it was that hope was far too dangerous. The worst case scenario is what would play out more often than not. That hope was shattered far too quickly as the gunshot rang throughout the forest. She couldn’t even register the sound of her own scream that left her throat raw. Everything felt as if it was moving in slow motion, it took Alcher’s body far too long to slump to the ground and her own limbs felt like they were moving through far too slowly, as if she was trudging through deep mud.

By the time she had knelt down next to Alcher on the ground, she could no longer hear her heartbeat and or breathing. She was gone. She was gone because she listened to her. After a life that showed the elder wolf that hunters possessed nothing but cruelty, she still listened to Ariana and tried to put it aside. Tried to see the world she wanted to see and now she was just gone. The rug had been pulled out from underneath her and it was hard to see the world she hoped for. She took a limp hand in her own and barely whispered, “I’m sorry.” The grief and well of emotion coursing through her was quickly replaced with rage.

Her head shot up to look at Kaden with a cold glare. Other than the tears in her eyes, her whole face hardened. Ariana could feel her bones begging to shift, begging to give in to the anger and let violence give her a moment of comfort. She attempted a deep breath, but her breaths remained shallow and she gripped onto Alcher’s hand harder to ground herself. Hurting him would only give her a moment of relief followed by a lifetime more of guilt. Even as she glared him down, he looked defeated. This wasn’t a victory. It didn’t give him any sense of closure. Nothing could ever bring loved ones back. She still struggled against her body’s natural instinct to lash out, to protect the pack. “Go,” she growled. While her bones fought beneath her, warring over which form she’d take, she kept her scowl steady. For once, she felt she possessed the stoic ferocity Alcher always had, only she now wasn’t here to show it. “Go,” she barked out again.

Her eyes returned to the wolf bleeding out before her. She’d see to it that her body was taken care of with the respect it deserved. She’d bring her home, the one place Alcher had finally let herself call home after all those years drifting from place to place, from pack to pack. A place Ariana would make sure was a safe haven for any wolves that needed it.

Es braucht ein monster, um ein monster zu töten. Kaden was frozen, the words ringing again in his head. Looking in front of him, it didn’t feel like a hunt. It didn’t feel like revenge. It didn’t feel like closure. Or justice. It felt like murder. The pistol was lowered, but his grip was still tight around the handle. What did he do now? Where did he–

His gaze had been so fixated on those eyes, the golden eyes, now lifeless and hollow, that he didn’t register that Ari was there, holding the body. The body. It wasn’t a monster anymore, not a nightmare or the object of revenge anymore. Just a body.

The first growl didn’t hit his ears. There was too much nothing. His eyes darted from the gold to the green. She was changing. He had killed one wolf only to be faced with another. Fear shot through him as he watched her, the first thing he felt since the bullet tore through flesh. So this was how this ended. He wouldn’t make it out of here alive after all. The circle of violence never ended. He hadn’t stopped it. He thought– He thought…

Her warning was clear. There was no time for thought. Kaden wasn’t sure what stirred him, what pulled him to his unsteady feet to hobble away. He couldn’t say how he got to his apartment. Or when. Or if the tears ever came or ever would. The only thing he did know was nothing. The hollow emptiness of nothing that carved away inside of him. So this was the cost of justice. Everything. All for nothing.

#chatz #chatzy: kaden #chatzy: ariana #blood demands blood #parental death tw #sibling death tw #gun use tw #suicidal ideation tw #kaden #ariana

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3starsquinn · 4 years

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Out of the Blue || Ariana, Athena & Orion

Timing: Last night, following this chatzy

Parties: @letsbenditlikebennett, @athenaquinn & @3starsquinn

Summary: Rio comes to visit Athena in the hospital following their encounter with Lydia.

Content: Mentions of Abuse

Orion hated hospitals. Apparently, that sentiment lasted beyond his father’s death. As it turned out, the mood was not any less depressing or the setting any less melancholy as it had been when his father worked the halls of this place. Being in the hospital reminded him of his childhood, quietly following his family down these same halls and faking a smile for the staff that spoke about him instead of to him directly. Even now he remembered exactly how it felt, because he felt the same way again. His chest was tight, anxiety skyrocketing and his heart beating so rapidly that it threatened to punch a hole through him. But even as every instinct fought against him, Rio forced himself into an elevator up to the floor the front desk had specified. He owed an apology to his sister, something he never planned on doing. Then again, he had never pictured himself breaking her arm either. He had been such an idiot, blindly promising something to a woman he had barely known. There had been no way to know that she had been as monstrous as she had turned out, but knowing that did nothing to alleviate the guilt. He didn’t know how to even begin apologizing to people. To Athena and Luce for hurting them. To Winston for forcing them to make such a hard decision. To Ariana for unknowingly helping the woman who killed her friend. To Kaden for ever holding any doubts about him. He had screwed everything up, made everyone worry and all in some idiotic attempt to protect a serial killer masquerading as a Fae afraid of hunters. Some genius Rio turned out to be.

Orion checked in with the nurses station, asking them to point out Athena’s room. He was biding his time, hands in pocket and staring at the ground as he dragged himself across the tiles and towards the door, but he stopped himself when he heard voices. Two very familiar voices. He debated moving any closer, but began shaking his head. Nope. I can do this another time. He spun around, heading away from the room and back towards the elevators when a nurse swooped in to stop him, “Wrong way, sweetie. Her room’s right over here. I’ll show you.” She grabbed onto his shoulder gently and guided him back around and down the hall. He was too awkward to try to stop her. Instead he just smiled and blushed, staying silent as she eased him forward down the hall and into the doorway. On arrival, Rio was immediately greeted by not only Athena, but Ariana. Both were staring at him from the comfort of her way too small hospital bed. He mumbled a thanks to the nurse, at least hoping to spare her of the awkwardness that Rio was ready to endure. “Oh uh. Hey you two. How’s it going?” Dumb question.

She’d been doing her best to just focus on Ariana, to block out the rest of the world around them. Even though things had grown calmer since Ariana had arrived, she still couldn’t help but still occasionally seize up in a moment of panic. Athena buried her face into Ariana’s shoulder, doing her best to keep her arm upright. She’d be allowed to go home soon, she had heard. She knew that, because broken arms didn’t mean long hospital stays and she was old enough that they didn’t ask too many questions about any of what had happened. Saying that she’d had a bad fall did the job well enough, and having many of the staff know her family made it so that they didn’t push too far. She just hoped that her brother was okay, wherever he was. He’d been in so much distress back with Lydia and everything.

Except, apparently, she didn’t have to think much longer because she heard a noise at the doorway and looked up, still laying against Ariana. “I - Ri.” She blinked a few times. “Hi.” Athena bit her lip. “You can - we’re - I - better?” She sighed. “You can come in.” She didn’t move from her position against Ariana, her eyes falling shut for a moment before reopening. “There’s a chair, and there’s Jello, if you want. Too sweet for us - but if you need something.” She gave a small nod. “Plus side, at least my cast is cute? I’m glad to see you too. Really.” She looked straight at her brother. “They didn’t send you to the hospital, did they?”

Normally, it was hard to surprise Ariana. It was one of the many benefits of having a heightened sense of hearing and smell. Given everything, the only sound she found herself focusing on was the soft thumps Athena’s heart made as they laid there in the small hospital bed. It just barely kept her grounded though she could still see the events at Lydia’s home playing over and over in her mind. The way Kelly and Chloe screamed as Todd fell to the ground. How much blood had poured from him. How it still seemed to linger in her nose the same way Sammy’s had. A familiar voice finally brought her out of her head. She blinked slowly and looked up at Rio. “Hey,” she said quietly, still nestled into Athena. Thankfully, she seemed to have the whole greeting thing down and was offering him Jello. “It’s good to see you, Rio.” And it was. She knew he had to be struggling right now. She knew how difficult it was to have someone use your words to make you hurt people you cared for. Somehow, anger was still able to surface in here, but she took and deep breath and asked, “You doing okay?”

Orion was absolutely not doing okay. But everything considered, he didn’t exactly have the right to tell them otherwise. How did he even begin to describe how he was feeling? Guilty for being part of what had happened? Weak for falling under her guise in the first place? Disgust that she had been killed right in front of him, by people that he cared about? For all the emotions that he felt, none of them could measure up to Athena and Ariana’s pain. Besides, he needed to try to stay positive. “Uh yeah, I’m fine. No hospital for me.” Rio grabbed at the burn in his side where Winston had tased him. The thing still stung, but the pain wouldn’t last much longer. The scar might stick around for awhile though, the voltage would have been pretty high if it was strong enough to knock out a hunter. “Are you both okay?” He hadn’t exactly figured out yet how to word his apology to Athena. Maybe she didn’t blame him, but that did nothing to make him feel any better about everything. It didn’t change the look in her eyes or the sound of her bones snapping. The thought itself made Rio’s stomach flip. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I can come back later.” Or never, that worked too.

“Good. I - it’s always good to not have to go - I mean, hospitals help, but I’m glad you didn’t have to go.” Athena bit her lip. She watched him hold onto his side, and she wanted to ask him if she could check it out, make sure he actually was okay and wasn’t just faking it, which she knew he was prone to doing, sometimes. They both were. “I’m fine,” she looked over to Ariana, “we’re fine.” Relatively, at least. “I mean - you know, could be better, but…” She pushed herself up using her free hand, though still did her best to stay as close to Ariana as was possible. “No, you can stay. Please. I’d like you to stay.” She did - she knew that something had to be at least a bit up if her brother was willing to come to the hospital and if he felt the need to track her down. She used her good hand to gesture at him to come and sit down. “Stay.” Her voice was more clear now. “You’re not interrupting anything. Saves me a FaceTime call at least, right?” She let a ghost of a smile cross her lips.

“Yes, it’s better you’re not hurt enough to need hospital care,” Ariana agreed. It was apparent that there was some tension between both of them. Their relationship had barely been on the mend before all of this happened which she supposed left things in a delicate state now. She gave Athena’s good arm a gentle squeeze before she shifted. She didn’t want to take away from the conversation they likely needed to have. More than anything, she wanted to see Rio and Athena get back to a good place. They both deserved as much after everything they’d been through. With a small nod, she said, “We’re okay.” Physically speaking, she was anyway. She hadn’t been hurt. She looked to Rio earnestly, “Please, stay.” She looked between the twins and felt this gnawing need to leave the room. Let them talk this whole thing through. “I could really go for some coffee and I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about. Would you like me to grab some for you? I think they have hot chocolate, too.” The last part was more for Rio. If she remembered from mornings spent at his home alongside Winston and Ricky, he’d never gone for the coffee.

Either they were both lying, or Ariana and Athena had better coping techniques than Orion had. Because he was certainly not okay. But for the sake of his own sanity as well as those around him, he needed to at least pretend to be. It was better than completely falling apart. “I’ll take a hot chocolate. Please.” Rio was self aware enough to know that Ariana was leaving more for his and Athena’s benefit rather than an actual desire to get coffee. But for how much he wanted to argue against her being the one to go and hightail it out of the hospital himself, he didn’t think either of them would let him. Ariana seemed pretty passionate about reconnecting the Quinn twins. And Athena had always cared more about their connection than Rio himself had. Before, Rio had good reason to steer clear. He wasn’t so clear anymore. Even after Ariana slipped from the bed and left the room, Rio didn’t move from the wall on the opposite side of the room. “I’m so sorry. About your arm and Lydia and.. well everything that happened yesterday I guess. I didn’t know.”

“You can get me a coffee if you’d like.” Athena looked over to Ariana. “With milk? Not too much sugar - I mean - you know what I like.” She sighed for a moment, focusing back on her brother. “You’ll come back soon?” She fiddled with the edge of her shirt, watching Ariana before she focused back on her brother. Her free hand reached out to where Ariana had been just moments before, a sigh of relief (or perhaps resignation, she wasn’t sure) escaped her lips. “You - it’s fine. It’s fine.” She said, her voice slipping, for a moment, into the tone it had taken on when they were children. “I figure I kind of deserve this, given everything I ever did to you.” She looked at him, eyes practically pleading. “Please come, at least sit within two feet of me, okay? I’m sorry you - I’m - I’m just glad you’re alive.” She could feel tears prick the corner of her eyes then. You’re not supposed to cry.

Alone in the room with his sister, Orion began fiddling the belt loops of his jeans to distract himself. He didn’t want to make eye contact with his sister. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking. Surprising even him, Athena didn’t seem to care about her own arm at all. She had only seemed concerned about Rio. “This was completely different.” Rio shrugged, though in all actuality he wasn’t sure that it was. Was Athena simply manipulated by their parents the same way Rio was manipulated by Lydia? He knew it was different, but considering Rio’s injuries had never landed him in the hospital it barely seemed like the time to compare notes. With a sigh, he pushed off of the wall and practically tiptoed across the floor towards the bed. He still wouldn’t sit, but he found a spot leaning against the window instead. “I was never in any danger of dying. But I hurt the three of you.” Despite it all, he did truly believe Lydia had no intentions of hurting him. Not out of the kindness of her hurt of course, but because if she had ever come back to White Crest Rio could have been a useful pawn. He would have been forced to live with the knowledge that he helped a psychotic murderer. He still had to live with it now. In some ways, maybe that was worse. He could tell when Athena was starting to cry, though he hadn’t seen it for himself since they were little kids. “This is a stupid question but... she’s dead, yeah?”

“It’s not.” Athena shook her head. “It is - karma, or something? I don’t know. I’d say it was what I deserved,” she didn’t know exactly what to say. She hadn’t expected her brother to show up at the hospital, though she also wasn’t always sure what she was supposed to expect of him, now. He’d been manipulated by a fae and there was no universe in which she could blame him for that, though she was furious that he’d managed to get himself promise-bound despite her years of begging him to be careful. “You could have been. You don’t - she almost - I think she would have killed you if she stopped finding you useful.” She shook her head. She grabbed one of the too-rough tissues and pressed it against her cheek. “It’s not stupid, and yes. Very much so. I - I really relished in it, Ri - the way it felt, the power I felt. She deserved it - for what she did to you and what she did to Ariana.” She moved over on her bed. “I’m not so big, you can sit with me, yeah? Consider it a necessary apology if you really need something like that.”

Maybe Athena was right. Maybe it was some sort of karma, but it definitely wasn’t a payback that Orion derived any joy from. He didn’t know how to respond so he chose not to. Better not to fall too deeply into that rabbit hole right now. Athena was probably right that Lydia would have gotten rid of him eventually once he had worn out his use. Rio’s real concern was how much he would have been forced to do before that time came. “Yeah well, as it turns out I apparently have more use than we originally thought.” With another shrug, Rio stared out the window and focused on a flock of birds flying past. What alternate dimension had Rio fallen into where Athena was the injured one crying and Rio was standing around stoically? “Right.” Rio didn’t love Athena’s answer. She took too much pride in taking her life. Monster or not, someone had just been killed. For once, Rio wasn’t even arguing against it. He just didn’t like how much she seemed to enjoy it while it was happening. “Well I don’t love that answer. But.. . I’m glad she’s gone.” At the very least the two could agree on that. But it seemed like sharing a hospital bed was pushing his limits. The two had been through a lot together this month, but it didn’t erase that he had been ready to drop his family entirely. Rio wasn’t ready to let all bygones be bygones. “I don’t want to take Ari’s spot. She’ll be back soon.” He used as an excuse, then crossed his arms as if to stand firm in his statement.

“I’ve always known you had use.” Athena whispered. Didn’t want to delve too far into that particular analysis, because she knew that digging up those sorts of conversations might just result in an argument and she was currently far from feeling up to that. Not here, not now, not with her brother. Not with her brother who she’d almost not once but twice in just over the past month. She shrugged. “You did ask, and I’ve tried to be more honest with you, at least as much as possible.” Athena glanced over at the window, at the birds outside. Why couldn’t her own brother look her in the eyes? They’d talked to some degree since everything had happened on their birthday, but now - now he wasn’t able to look at her? She looked back, looked past him - finding that she didn’t know just how to look at him, either. “You wouldn’t - she - okay,” she finally settled on. “You sure you don’t want Jello? You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

It was still surreal that Orion and Athena were having conversations like this at all, let alone in a hospital room after fighting one another. Even after it all, the craziest thing was that Rio had been able to get the jump on Athena at all. He supposed it would be easy for Athena to underestimate him though. All these years and Athena had never seen Rio properly fight back. “It’s not a judgement.” At least, he didn’t mean for it to be taken as one. For as much as the idea of enjoying someone’s murder made him want to scream, he couldn’t exactly argue that he was mourning Lydia’s death. “It’s me being uncomfortable with that stuff. I’m trying to be honest too.” For what it was worth, Athena didn’t fight him on the seating arrangement. Another in the long list of odd changes between their dynamic. Athena hadn’t always been that quick to give up when she wanted something. “I’m fine.” Rio shook his head. He always looked like this, though she was right that it had been awhile. He had been rushing to get Lydia to safety that he had barely eaten anything. And after Winston brought him home he felt too sick to eat. Even now, as his stomach felt empty it still protested the idea of eating. “I’m not that hungry.”

She couldn’t even imagine the last time she’d been in the hospital with her brother. If ever. Orion hadn’t ever liked it, even when Athena had begged her father to let her come with him, to walk around the floors and beg the staff for a clipboard that was too big for her six-year-old arms to hold. “Okay. I - I didn’t know.” Her lips were set into a firm line and she looked away from her brother again. She was grateful he’d come by to check on her, grateful he did still care. “I’m glad you are, really and truly. It’s something we’re both moving toward, I think.” She grabbed her cup of water, taking another small sip of it. She didn’t have the energy to fight her brother. Be it fatigue from everything that had just happened or from the twenty-one years of being forced in some part to be adversaries - eleven solid years of that, she figured - Athena didn’t know. She just knew that yelling wouldn’t do her any good with respect to changing things or getting Ri to listen. “Okay. I - I haven’t - okay. I get that.” She forced her lips into a sad sort of smile. “It’s weird being in the hospital on this end. Not a fan. People who - well, people know me here.” She paused. “Know us, I guess.”

Orion had come to apologize. He had already done that and yet he was still standing in here with Athena. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. The two had talked more in the last month than they had in the last year or two. Despite this, Rio realized that he still had no idea how to actually talk to his sister. Aside from their parents, a few friends and an awkward tendency to like the same people, Rio had nothing in common with Athena. He didn’t know what that meant for their relationship. All he knew was that Athena would - now more than ever - want to continue talking and building some actual semblance of a familial relationship. Rio needed to decide if that was actually an option he would entertain. For now, he remained undecided. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Now more than ever. I keep getting pity looks from people about dad.” He had ignored more than a few outreaches by people checking in on him following his parent’s death. Most of them had come from coworkers at the hospital that never saw him in person. He never figured he would have to face them if he avoided the White Crest hospital for the remainder of his life. A small silence settled over the two after that, both lost in their own worlds. “Ari’s on her way back, I think.” He spoke up once he heard someone moving down the hall. It was hard to pick out the specific sounds and scents of a person, but Rio was slowly getting back at it. The mixed smell of chocolate and coffee made Rio assume it was her on her way back to the room.

She couldn’t remember the last time that she and her brother had talked this much. Athena only knew that it hadn’t been in forever. Even though she’d tried to, it had always sort of fallen flat - and she knew that it was because of their parents, perhaps - or perhaps something else. She wasn’t sure, and a whole lot of things were spinning around now, and she didn’t have the energy to force it or fight anything. “I know. I know.” She repeated, only loud enough for him to hear - just a whisper, but she knew he’d pick up on it, with his good hearing and all. “Try being a future doctor and his child and currently in the hospital. I am just real glad they finally left me alone a bit.” She glanced down at her lap as Rio made a remark about Ariana. “Okay.” She pushed herself up with her free hand. “I - it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” She pursed her lips off to the side. They had to be. With everything they’d gone through in the last month-and-a-bit, they had to be. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if she actually lost him, after having nearly lost him far too many times already.

#wickedswriting #c: athena #c: ariana #chatzy #chatzy: athena #chatzy: ariana #out of the blue #abuse mention tw

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 2 years

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Exile || Oscar, Ariana, and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Kaden’s apartment PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Oscar crashes wine night with Kaden and Ari. CONTENT WARNINGS: None!

Over the years, the high that followed a good hunt was something that never got old to Oscar. The adrenaline still had him feeling like he was on a high a few days later when he made his way up to White Crest again. Virginia had been a good time and helping a friend kill an entire pack had been nothing short of exhilarating. That sleepy little town would be all that much safer now that it was rid of those beasts. He knew he could hunt for years on end and White Crest and there would still be no shortage of beasts, so he made his way back. He couldn’t let Kaden have all the fun.

The hallway decor had always come off as tasteless to Oscar, but it was still much nicer than places he’d stayed in over the years. As he made his way to Kaden’s door, he felt a familiar feeling creeping under his skin, like small bugs crawling around inside him. He grit his teeth and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t as if he could bombard someone’s apartment and kill them while they were in their human appearing form. If they did live in the building, that feeling had to drive Kaden nuts. It only got stronger as he stood outside Kaden’s door. He gave a quick knock before letting himself in. He was surprised to find a teenager on the couch drinking a glass of red wine alongside Kaden who looked like absolutely shit.

The girl looked up at him and back towards Kaden and asked the younger hunter, “Were you expecting company tonight?” She had her brows raised and had the audacity to look at him like he was the one out of place here. Oscar felt his fists clenching at his side and had to fight the instinct to immediately grab his knife. He looked at Kaden with scrutinizing eyes. “Why the hell is there a werewolf in your apartment,” he asked with an air of disgust.

For some reason, Ariana had declared that night would be his education in Taylor Swift, whoever that was. Kaden would never admit it, but he was thankful for the company and he didn’t quite hate the music, either. Well, some of it. He could definitely do without a few of the songs. Not that he could name a single one. When there was a rap on the door, Kaden damn near assumed it was coming from the door across the hall or something. There was no way anyone was showing up here. Who the fuck would do that? His brow creased when the lock turned and the door swung open. Kaden was too stunned to register who it was walking through his door at first. Ari said something, but it didn’t register, the ranger was already sitting up in his seat.

Oscar. It was Oscar.

His stomach plummeted to the floor. Kaden stood up faster than he had in weeks, putting himself squarely between Oscar and Ari. “Why the hell are you in my apartment?” The question felt like a kick to the gut as it left his lips. This was Oscar, for fucks sake. This was the man who raised him after his parents died. Hell, even a little before that, too. He realized the kick was really guilt shooting through him. He couldn’t say what was causing it just then, though. Probably everything.

Evermore still played on in the background, but the mood of the room shifted very quickly. Ari glared at the intruder who was acting like she was the one out of place here. As if she hadn’t been the one stopping by every day to look after him even though she was falling apart. Before she could retort, Kaden was up and between the two of them. The protectiveness shouldn’t have surprised her, but her fists curled all the same, itching to punch something or to feel something hit her. She was too tired to distinguish these days. Her glare stayed level on the older ranger as she spat out, “This werewolf is in his apartment because I’m his friend.” Her eyes snapped back to Kaden. “Who is this guy anyway?”

The werewolf child seemed to possess far more nerve than was appropriate for the situation. Everything about it disgusted Oscar. How could this beast just act like she had every right to be in Kaden’s apartment? To call herself his friend? His jaw tensed as he stared between the man he considered a nephew and his pet wolf. Kaden had taken a protective stance in front of her which would imply he wanted the wolf to live. Gave way to the fact that what the monster said just might be true, especially paired with the lack of welcome he was receiving from the younger hunter he once took in. His eyes turned stony as he looked at Kaden. “What do you mean why am I here? I just got back into town and assumed I’d be welcomed just as I’ve always been, though if this is the kind of company you’re keeping.”

He nodded his head toward the wolf who still looked to be a child which really begged the question of what had gotten into Kaden. His eyes flicked back and forth between them and contempt settled into his face. “So it’s true then, this monster is your friend,” he spat out with disgust.

“My uncle,” Kaden answered without taking his eyes off Oscar for a second. It was hard to hold onto his anger the longer he faced off with the other ranger; it felt wrong. Kaden felt like he was being torn in two. Somehow standing across from Oscar made him feel like he was a teenager all over again, lost and without a real family left. Funny how even though it felt like everything around him changed, he was still in the same situation. “You are, but–” Kaden didn’t know what to say, how to solve this problem. Of course Oscar was welcome here, in his life. But not if he threatened Ariana. And he knew his uncle better than that. He felt like he was on the precipice and no matter what his decision was, he was going to fall. It was all a matter of which direction, backwards or forwards. His heart ached to have both. He lost so much already. Standing there he knew he was going to lose something else tonight. It was seemingly up to him what that was. They were both what he’d consider family. How the fuck was he supposed to choose that?

“She’s not a monster.” Kaden swallowed back, hoping somehow it might slow his rapid-fire heartbeat. What was worse was knowing that every single one in that room could fucking hear it, too. Putain. “Look, she’s just a kid. And she’s in control. You can’t just–” He wasn’t sure why he was arguing this with his uncle. “She’s a person. Ariana is a person. They’re all–” His mouth snapped closed, afraid of what his uncle’s reaction would be, fearing that it might be the exact same as what he would expect from his own parents.

The word monster made Ari visibly recoil. The voice was different, but the message was the same one that haunted her every night and started bleeding into the days, too. It was said with such vitriol and she couldn’t even blame him. All she could do was look down at her wine glass and try to keep the nightmares from trying to seep into the moment. That wouldn’t help the situation. Then Kaden was defending her, saying she was a person and not a monster and something in her broke. She felt the lump in her throat and heard the rapid beating of Kaden’s heart. She needed to get out of here. She clumsily jumped up from her spot on the couch and awkwardly croaked, “I’m just gonna– I’ll take Abel for a walk.” She motioned for the dog to come over before hooking on his leash and rushing out the door.

Oscar blinked slowly as he tried to wrap his mind around what the hell was going on here. His nephew still stood firmly between him and the wolf, as if he thought Oscar would try to attack her at any moment. He’d been at this long enough to know he didn’t want to create a situation where there’d be a body to take care of, but his hand stayed firmly on the handle of the silver blade he had tucked away.

Kaden was actually calling this wolf a person. Sure, she looked like one right now, but Oscar knew better. Kaden was supposed to know better. That “kid” turned into a beast that would rip apart anything in her path at least three times a month. As she jumped up from the couch, he tensed and his knuckles turned white around the knife he hadn’t been able to let go of. This Ariana was walking Kaden’s dog now? His eyes followed her until she was out the door.

“Care to explain yourself,” Oscar ground out between gritted teeth, “And why there was a werewolf sitting on your couch like it’s something she does all the time? You can’t seriously be calling her a person.”

Kaden’s eyes didn’t leave Oscar even as Ari jumped up and took the leash off the hook and clipped it to Abel’s collar. He knew his uncle wouldn’t kill her right then and there, not in Kaden’s apartment of all places. Still, he worried that Oscar might try to hurt her or follow her. Maybe. Not that it would be like him to do that here and now in front of him but Kaden knew damn well that anger fueled stupid decisions.

The relief he felt when the door closed again, the dog and the werewolf no longer in the apartment, didn’t last long. Ari might not be in immediate danger anymore but that wasn’t going to make any of this easier. As he stood there, staring at his uncle, Kaden felt like he was shrinking, like he was getting scolded like a school child or, more aptly, like he was back in his hunter training when he was younger. “No,” he shot back. Putain, he really did feel like that fucking petulant fifteen year old again, trying desperately to feel like he had some sort of power or control over his life. It all felt eerily similar to the discussion they’d had after Kaden tried to take down the Krieg wolf the first time and nearly got himself killed.

Only now that he’d succeeded in his revenge, it was all so different. And he wasn’t fifteen anymore. He was an adult, not under anyone’s thumb. He could state his own opinions. Right? And some small part of him had to hope that Oscar might understand, as much as he knew there was no shot. “Her sister was a ranger,” he started to explain. Stupid, he shouldn’t have to fucking explain that. “And she is a person. They–” He sighed and finally looked away from Oscar. “I killed the Krieg wolf. Alcher. That was her name.” He tried to swallow but his mouth felt dry as a desert. “I killed her. Shot her. Point blank. Felt a lot like murder.”

None of what Kaden said made much sense to Oscar and it was a lot to take in. It was a fucking relief that damn Krieg wolf was finally dead, but the rest? It was all wrong. Kaden was supposed to feel closure and justice, not whatever the fuck this was. Scheisse. He looked around, even though the state of the apartment seemed all wrong. Not entirely messy, but there wasn’t a weapon in sight. “It doesn’t matter what her sister was, she’s still a wolf and she will hurt someone.”

His eye returned to where the little wolf was just sitting moments before. “Unless this is some tactic to catch her on the next full moon, this isn’t okay. This isn’t what hunters do.”

The word murder hung bitterly in the air between them. Oscar couldn’t believe Kaden had even said the words. That wolf had killed his family and many others. It wasn’t murder, it was what he was born to do. “Glad that hündin is dead, but what is this about murder? That thing was a beast, you can’t murder a beast.”

“She won’t,” Kaden rebutted without even thinking, without remembering the truth. That she had hurt someone. Possibly even killed them. Probably. It didn’t matter. Not in this context. It didn’t compare to his own blood stained hands and killing her sure didn’t feel like it was going to fix shit. Kaden would never let it happen, that was for damn sure.

“Yeah well maybe I’m not a hunter, then.” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them. He clenched his jaw shut, bracing for the backlash and trying to make sure he didn’t say anything else without thinking. “I’m not killing her. And you’re not touching her, either.”

Kaden wished like hell he could just go along with what his uncle was saying, that he could continue to believe the lie he’d told himself for years now. “She sure didn’t look like one when the bullet went through her chest.” The silence hung in the air. “I’m not saying she wasn’t a piece of shit or a killer or– But what the fuck makes me any better? What makes us any better?”

“So what, you’re babysitting it every full moon then,” Oscar asked with annoyance further creeping into his tone. This had to be a joke, but Kaden had never been one for elaborate jokes like this nor had Oscar’s arrival been expected. That meant he was in fact serious and completely unrecognizable from the kid he’d always known. A far cry from the fifteen year old who had been fueled to destroy wolves after his parents’ death.

The younger hunter was right about one thing and that was that he wasn’t in fact a hunter. Oscar knew there was no in between for them. That was far too dangerous a line to teeter on. “If you’re not killing her, you’re right. You’re not a hunter anymore.”

This line of questioning was not something Oscar would tolerate. If he couldn’t see how what they did was different or necessary, then there was no hope for him. Maybe he failed Kaden by being away for so long, but it was too late now. “We slay beasts to protect people. They do it because they’re monsters. Will always be monsters. That Krieg wolf was a piece of shit and you did the world a favor by getting rid of her. If you don’t see that, I don’t think there’s anything more I can do for you.”

The word “it” crawled under his skin almost like the way his hunter senses tended to. Only this felt worse. “I watch out for her, yeah.” Not a total lie, Kaden did watch out for Ari whenever he was out on the full moon in the past, making sure that she didn’t wander too close to town and hurt anyone. It wasn’t babysitting, that was for sure. Didn’t matter.

It was one thing for Kaden to call himself a failure in his own mind, to say he was a shit hunter. It was entirely different hearing it from the mouth of the closest thing he had to a father figure. It cut through him, severing his past from his present more definitively than he thought was possible. He was on the other side of the divide now, he could feel it.

A lump sat in his throat. He swallowed it back before repeating the words that hadn’t stopped ringing in his ears since that day in the woods. “It takes a monster to kill a monster.” His heart ached even as it was pounding in his chest. Oscar wouldn’t really leave him, right? He wouldn’t just abandon him now. Not after everything.

The emphasis on the word her wasn’t lost on Oscar. It seemed Kaden was in far too deep now, that he cared for this monster he was supposed to hunt. Even the fact he was told to stay away from her was indication enough. Maybe he’d been too soft on the teenager after his parents died. Somewhere along the line, he messed up and failed the closest friends he’d ever known. Charles and Lauren wouldn’t even recognize the Kaden standing in front of him.

“You care for this werewolf,” he said solemnly. He didn’t want it to be true, but all the evidence was too glaringly obvious to ignore. Kaden had given up on his purpose, given up on everything they were supposed to stand for. “I shouldn’t have left you on your own for so long,” he said with a heavy heart.

Oscar didn’t want to do what he’d have to do next, but Kaden couldn’t have it both ways. He couldn’t be part of the hunter world they’d grown up in all while treating wolves like people, while feeling guilt over killing. He thought both of them to be monsters. He shook his head, “If that’s what you really believe, then I should go, and you should stay away from hunter haunts. You can’t be part of this world while protecting a monster.”

Kaden had felt like a disappointment for a while now. Oscar confirming it all but solidified that. He was a failure. A bad hunter, a bad person, a murderer. He was stuck somewhere in between it all. And it seemed like it was only going to get worse. “What does that mean?” was all he could ask. The petulant part of him wanted to say that he didn’t want to be there anyway, that he wanted nothing to do with them, but he wasn’t sure that was true. And he didn’t want to draw out this conversation much longer if he was being honest with himself.

Kaden had always had a lot of emotion brewing under the surface. Oscar had never seen it as a bad thing until this very moment. When he was younger, it drove him to fight harder, faster. It was the reason he lived to see into his thirties. Now, he was seeing the cracks in his foundation from how much heart he had. Even now, he looked as if he was bracing himself. But he had to do it. If Kaden was ever going to get his priorities together, he had to decide where he stood on his own. His chest fell as he sighed. “That means I’m leaving and won’t be coming back. And don’t bother going to the Bullet or any of our other hunter connections. If wine night with a werewolf is how you spend your time now, you have no business being part of our community.”

With a final solemn nod, he turned to leave. Oscar hoped being cut off would bring some sense back to his nephew, but either way, there was no way he could have the best of both worlds.

The door closed for the second time in the span of a few minutes. Kaden was alone. Completely alone. He thought about taking a step forward, telling Oscar to wait, call his bluff, find out it was all a joke or some misunderstanding, but his feet stayed planted like bricks at the bottom of a lake. The apartment was quiet. And empty. He wasn’t sure when the music had stopped or when Ari was coming back. And if she did, if she would stay. It wouldn’t make a difference. He was alone.

He’d never felt more alone in his life.

Yes, he had Ari who somehow became like the little sister he never asked for, and that wasn’t nothing. But he had lost Regan. He had lost Oscar. And he had lost his ties to the whole hunter community. The community that had helped raised him, kept a roof over his head and his belly full after he’d lost his parents. As gruff and harsh as so many hunters could be, the ones within his family’s circle, they helped each other, looked after one another without question. It was how he was able to travel, it was how he found places to land when he was in trouble. Hell, he’d even found that in White Crest. He would have been dead a while back if Adam Walker hadn’t saved him with that vial of phoenix tears. Hunters looked out for one another. It was the unwritten code. Because at the end of the day, who else did any of them really have?

But Kaden wasn’t a hunter anymore. And as he collapsed onto the couch with his head in his hands, it was clear that he wouldn’t have a family anymore either.

#writing #wickedswriting #chatzy #ariana #letsbenditlikebennett #oscar

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braindeacl · 2 years

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Petals for Armor | Ariana & Eilidh

SETTING: Celeste’s Tree. TIMING: Mid March. PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Despite their sorrows, Eilidh and Ariana cheer each other up through the power of flower crowns. WARNINGS: Sibling death mention.

The patch of wildflowers that Ariana planted around Celeste’s tree last spring seemed to be coming back in nicely. They reminded her of all the flower fields she and her sister used to explore when they were younger and somehow being near Celeste’s tree while she grieved yet another brought its own form of solace. The breeze that made the flowers tickle her bare arms did a lot in the way of keeping her grounded, though she couldn’t stop playing Alcher’s death over and over again in her head. While she’d seen Celeste die, it was all hazy. She’d still been half drunk and out of it from the tranquilizer she was hit with. It didn’t live clearly in her head. She hadn’t seen Sammy or Winn die. While Todd’s death had been tough, it wasn’t quite as graphic. She hadn’t felt quite as powerless. The fight between Alcher and Kaden was all too clear in her mind. The way Kaden almost hesitated, the way she wrongly listened to Alcher’s command to not throw herself between the two, the way her body slowly slumped to the ground, and the horrified look on Kaden’s face as she growled at him to leave. She felt constantly haunted. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of something else, anything else. Her hand reached out toward the tree where Celeste’s ashes were spread and she whispered, “I wish you were here. You always knew what to do.”

Somehow, it always came back to that realization. No matter how much she tried to live up to the kind person that Celeste was, she always fell short. Always acted too much on emotion and didn’t think things through. All of those losses, it was hard to not think her sister would have had the answers. Could have saved them. Ariana wiped away a few stray tears and sat up as she heard something rustle nearby. “Hello,” she called out. It was likely just another animal, but it smelled a little bit like death. Or maybe that was just the smell that still clung to her. It was hard to tell these days.

It was nice to see the flowers return. On their own time, instead of forced into wakefulness. Only to be twisted into another’s design, until all was that design. Eilidh knelt down to one — fingers pressed gently on the stem. It danced against her touch with no want of attack. Free from that illness. Like her sweet plants at home; like those sweet people she kept company. The smile on her face faltered. Olds thoughts, old worries, returned just as her loves. Beckoned by the gentle quiet of the forest, which offered no distraction. She went back to this place of sickness to help free them. While it didn’t go according to plan, it did work in the end. Milo and Metzli and her wee ones were returned. Eventually. It was going well. But… For how long? They had each left her before, and they could, would, will again. There were promises of more, but promises were more a plague than a wish. She knew it was best to enjoy it while it lasted; there was no need to make it so fucking complicated. Just love until it ran dry like it always did. But the longer she stayed, the harder that severance would be. She had been given a taste, an example of life in their absence. It will only get worse with added time. The strings that bind held there, but her instincts told her to run while she could. Slowly torn in two.

Those thoughts turned physical, wanting to tear. Ripping instead that delicate stem. The flower tumbling down, now sure to die. With growls in her throat she ripped out more, creating a large hole in once untouched greens. Eilidh stiffened at the sight, mind suddenly clear. Before she sighed, a prayer whispered with it. She picked up what she could of that broken bouquet and placed it behind her ear. Gave them a ride before their time was due. And when she stood, when her thoughts returned to the present instead of both past and future, she heard a voice. A young one, with a touch of a choke to it. The sound made a shiver run up her spine — brought a tension to her eyes. Called to something inside that wanted to claw and nurture, with hands preparing for both. But when she rushed over, all she found was a young woman with puffy eyes. Despite how much her own looked around, she couldn’t find the source for that puffiness. Her gaze settled back down on the stranger. “You alright? Who’s giving you trouble?”

The face that Ariana blinked to saw appeared to be friendly. Considering her shoulder still resting in its sling, that was likely for the better. The flower behind the stranger’s ear brought a certain softness to her that allowed Ari to let her guard down a bit. Even her tone put the young werewolf at ease. This wasn’t going to be a fight and for once, she was actually relieved at that concept. She smiled weakly up at the woman and sat up completely from her previous position of lying down in the flowers. Her head tilted slightly and she answered, “Oh, no one’s giving me any trouble.” As much was true, at least in the current moment. Thoughts of Kaden and Alcher and everything that happened still swirled around in her mind. That was troubling, but probably not in the sense this woman meant. Kaden wasn’t a danger to her, at least.

Ariana looked wistfully toward the carved tree. It held Celeste’s initials and while it wasn’t her sister she was currently mourning, its presence brought sort of a sad comfort. A small sign escaped her lips and she twirled one of the daffodil stems idly around in her fingers. “Just sort of,” she started, unsure of what the right thing to say was, “I lost a friend recently and have a lot on my mind. My sister’s ashes were spread around this tree, so it’s nice to visit.” It sounded sad. It was sad. And if she was being honest, she was fucking sad. No amount of distractions could take away from that. No matter how many times she breathed in the scent of fresh flowers as she was rooted in this spot, that guilt and grief wasn’t something that just dissipated. She crossed her legs underneath her and tried to keep up the small grin, “I like the flower hair.” She gestured toward the flower adorning the woman’s ear and it finally hit her that she wasn’t entirely aware of her surroundings. She listened closely, but there wasn’t a sound outside of her own heartbeat and the rustling of trees in the wind. “No one’s giving you any trouble, right?”

Ah. Eilidh was intruding on a mourning ritual. Eyes were in motion again, but not in search. Not much seeing at all was done by them, in that second of blunt awkwardness. And then they settled, only a blink sooner before her mind did. Her feet followed that decision, taking a step back to leave. Leave the poor child to grief as she wished. Sure, there was an urge to comfort, but they were strangers and she had her own bonds to mourn. More innocent flowers to destroy until her mind finally stopped screaming. But, then, the girl spoke. Like she was asking for Eilidh’s presence, in that simple observation. People didn’t make much conversation when they wanted to be left alone. No, that opened mouth was like a doorway. Inviting. Eilidh’s hand brushed the poor man’s bouquet on her ear, just as her feet returned to their previous position. Facing the other. There was a pleasant hum in her chest, as her fingers danced on those delicate petals. They danced in turn. “Me too.”

The next question was puzzling. Eilidh watched the other with that same sudden interest, reflected back at itself. Such a statement she would’ve thought a common courtesy. But the girl looked at her like she knew a secret. There was a beat. Her own look threatening to turn sharp. Yet, suspicions were hard to hold when looking at such sad, gentle eyes. Ones that called to her gentleness. She relented. “Eh. Probably. Not any current company, though. No.” Trouble always found her, for she was usually the one to find it first. And it seemed, amongst the tears and the tree, she had found more. But this would not turn and bite her; it’s only interest was the girl. The want to help grew stronger. Made those thoughts of the future she knew was closing in become just mumbles. Focus pulled to the present, and in the present she was fine. But not the girl. That grief called to something deep inside. To that helpful wanting that finally was realized. Her legs followed again her mind’s latest decision, but instead of retreating, she sat. “Find flowers’re good for honoring the living. N’ dead.” The line between the two was thin, only a breath separating. “Can show you some makings. Better than this sad sack.” Her hand returned to that ear, the one adorned in colors. Beautiful in their own right, but she could make them magnificent.

Ariana watched the woman with an easy gaze. Something in her stance said she was waffling on whether to stay or go and Ari found herself hoping she stayed. Maybe it was the flowers in her hair or the fact that she was kind enough to check in, but her presence felt nice, less heavy than her own. But she wouldn’t ask. She didn’t deserve to burden someone that way. That didn’t mean she’d say no to some company. She’d never been any good at being alone. Whether that was a werewolf thing or a her thing, she really didn’t know. She looked up at the woman quizzically and let out a dry laugh at her statement. “I get that. Don’t have to look too far to find trouble around here.”

Much to her delight, the woman sat down beside her. It made the air around her feel lighter, easier to breathe. Ariana rarely ran into anyone at this spot save Kaden once or twice. She let that thought go immediately before it had a chance to sour her mood. Instead, she pondered what sort of other flower creations the woman could make. Flashes of Celeste played in her mind. When they were properly settled somewhere and Ariana wasn’t forced into going to school, they’d always spend afternoons among the flowers. Celeste had always loved to braid her hair and stick flowers throughout different sections. Ari had never been much good at braiding herself, so Celeste often wore her flowers in a similar fashion as the woman who joined her. She smiled softly at the memories. It made the current company with her at Celeste’s tree seem right. “They are. Is that part of why you like them,” she asked as she rolled up her right sleeve to show off her tattoo, “I got these for her,too.” She nodded toward the tree and rotated her arm a bit to show the array of black ink winding around her forearm and forming different wildflowers.

“I’d love that,” Ariana answered with a genuine smile as she plucked some of the flowers around them, “What did you have in mind?” She secretly hoped for a crown. She’d worn those many a times on her birthday. The breeze came by gently, bringing delightful floral smells and pollen with it. Not nearly as bad as the pollen had been before the tree disappeared. She handed some of the flowers she’d picked over to her new friend. “I’m Ari, by the way,” she looked up in earnest and added, “Thanks for joining me.”

The smile was contagious, and Eilidh returned it with her own. Born from the pleasant mood, like a warm blanket over the grief, and that she had managed to bring some comfort. Despite the looming sorrow. Eilidh’s own was a distant memory, just as their sources were a distant future. At least in the time the two were together, when the past remembered its place in the timeline. Mourning, of ended life and ended bonds, was best done in company. Many thought otherwise, and her own grief had dappled in that want, but it was nice to see the girl shared the ideal. And shared her place of mourning, which touched Eilidh the most. The meadow was beautiful in its meaning, of death turned into new life. She was certain it carried the mourned person’s spirit, beckoned by the girl’s love, even if Eilidh couldn’t see. Though she didn’t have much time to look before being distracted by the meadow on the girl’s arm. Eyes absorbed the display with a clear fascination, just as they had the ones at her feet. She muttered the names of the flowers she recognized before returning to a normal volume. “Aye. Much like the two. Life n’ death. Flowers bloom n’ wither. Only to be back ‘gain later.” She hummed, her expression turning from wistful to playful. “N’ mostly ‘cause they look real nice, too.” Because everything fell into that cycle of renewal, but not all had the luxury of looking so gorgeous while doing so.

Eilidh removed the assortment from her hair, placing the heap on her lap. Her fingers brushed against each stem: testing both sturdiness and flexibility. A few were too giving , another was too stubborn, and one had been snapped too close to the petals to be weaved. She took these few and returned them to their old home amongst her hair. While they may not be of use for her plans, they still could join in the fun. Satisfied, those hands reached out to ones who still had roots, to complete the collection. But she found that Ari had done the job for her. She nodded in thanks, the smile of hers widening. “Was thinking crown. Or necklace. Same sort, different place.” The word thanks filled the air so easily, and she perked curiously at Ari. Ah, not Other Folk. Her head nodded again, this one in acknowledgement of the gratitude. “Call me Macleod.” She pressed a hand on each knee, as if she were prepared to launch. “Now, you wanna start with the longest, strongest stem.” A hand went to pick a flower on her lap that fit the description. She lifted it up to Ari as an example.

When it came down to it, everything was a cycle. Life, death, violence, even joy. If it could be beautiful with flowers and trees, maybe it could be with life too. Ariana didn’t think loss would ever be easy to accept, but things wouldn’t feel dark forever and that had to be enough. It could be enough, if she let it. So she let herself slide into the easiness of the moment and the way her present company and the sun shining on her back warmed her. “Yeah, that’s a nice way of looking at it,” she mused, “Spring always comes again or something.” Just as sure as she felt lighter now, the heavy feeling would come again, but so would an easiness that felt natural. It was so easy to feel like those darker moments would last forever, that the hurt and loss would always feel debilitating. Macleod’s words were a good reminder that nothing was forever, not even pain.

The proposed flower makings both reminded her of Celeste. She could remember many afternoons much like this one where they would sit in any random field of flowers and Celeste would craft small crows or braid her hair with flowers woven in. It always made Ari feel beautiful in a different way. Normally she felt tough and fierce, the wolf in her proud, but sometimes it was nice to just feel soft. “A crown would be nice,” she answered with a small smile, “My sister used to love making them, too.” She couldn’t help but wonder if some time long ago, Alcher had also enjoyed such a gentle task. Back before the world had taken so much of what she held dear. She wondered what the older wolf had been like as a pup. She supposed she would never know now and couldn’t help the pang that came with wishing she had asked before. It was duller than it would have been without her present company. She enjoyed the smell of flowers that surrounded them and the faint sound of the breeze. “Macleod,” she repeated, “I like it.” The flowers felt familiar in her hands and she followed the instructions closely. She looked through some of the flowers gathered and felt through a few of them to find the strongest of the longer ones. “Got it,” she said with a smile and her eyes keenly watching Macleod’s next movement. Her flower seemed similar enough to Macleod’s to work. “Where’d you learn how to make these?”

“Crown it is.” Before returning to the plucked ones in her lap, Eilidh looked to the flowers still dancing in the breeze. She wondered if it was Ari’s sister waving at them. The wave was returned anyhow, her fingers gently flapping towards them. “Is a fitting gift. Connected to both past ‘n love.” Fitting in many ways. The ashes of a flower lover being the soil for those spring blooms. To be made in crowns that used to sit on that long gone head. But there was another’s; that one still left unnamed. “Your friend. They enjoy flowers, too?” She looked to the chosen flower in Ari’s hand, nodding in approval. Her hands too went in motion; to grab the next and begin. But they stopped, as they remembered who taught them to weave. A knowledge she felt had always been inside — born with her as many others. Stolen from that previous life. A skill that was not condemned, but also not nurtured. Left to rot with her insides, as she grew into her present self. Her family’s love of nature was more for blood soaked soil, not the flowers rooted between. A predator had no need for things like that.

But Sky had been no predator, a fact that led to her grave. No, she was of those precious flowers. Knew their tongue and how to mold them, taught Eilidh their sweet ways. She remembered when her own hands were as unsure as Ari’s. Only in flashes, in bursts of feelings. Still, it made her smile. “Was shown a time ago. By hands gone, now.” She wondered if Sky was watching them, too. Her eyes made quick on that thought, surveying the area for any of Sky’s messengers. There was no flap of butterflies, no matter where she looked. She knew it was cruel to expect Sky’s presence always. And yet, she sighed, letting the sadness tumble out. She continued, “You wanna loop ‘nother round the first. Easier than hair.” A second flower was chosen. Instead of standing firm and strong like the first, this one relented to Eilidh’s action. It twisted around the first’s stem — made one firm loop. The two joined together, until time eventually turned them to mulch. “N’ just keep going.” Another flower, another loop, and the crown began to grow.

Something about a flower crown was soothing. If she could dawn a crown of flowers then maybe there was still something gentle about her. Ariana had been so plagued by nightmares and guilt that she felt like something dark, but even some flowers bloomed in the night. The calm was likely only temporary though she wouldn’t let that notion ruin the moment completely. “That’s a pretty way of looking at it,” she agreed with a small smile, “A good connection, one worth holding on to.” Her stomach turned at the mention of her friend. Alcher’s face was the one that haunted her the most. It was hard to determine why her subconscious was so dead set on guilting her for forgiving Kaden, for letting him live, for still caring about him. It didn’t make sense, Ari knew she couldn’t just let him go. They’d been through too much and he’d always supported her even when she made mistakes. That wasn’t something you just turned your back on. She let out a soft sigh and let her fingers work through threading the flowers. “She did, I think it was more of a nature in general sort of thing. Out here in the forest is where people like us tend to feel most at home, most free.”

“Then it’s a good way for you to honor them too. Keep a small part of them alive and with you,” Ariana responded wistfully, “At least, that’s how I like to think of it. People we love will die and it hurts, but we never really lose the part of ourselves that loves them.” She watched the gentle way Macleod’s hands moved through the stems of the flowers and looped them together in an almost braid-like manner. She moved her own hands carefully to mirror her movements.The repetitive motions were peaceful. It was one of the many reasons she enjoyed woodwork. Her hands and the rest of her were never much good at staying still. The breeze carried the scent of flowers with it as they worked and she let it cloud her senses. “Definitely easier than hair,” she agreed quietly, “The only thing I’m good at doing with my hair is a ponytail. Even that is questionable some days.” The laugh that followed came easily and rang out through the otherwise quiet field. She let the soft sounds of flowers and branches swaying with the wind soothe her as the heavy feeling continued to dissipate. It finally completely registered that hers was the only heart beating. She continued her loops with just the soundtrack of forest sounds for a while longer before she finally said, “I can’t hear your heartbeat which means you aren’t human either, are you?”

There was a subtle shift in the girl’s presence, beckoning an equal change in Eilidh. Her pleasant smile was replaced with one more stern, tightened with that touch of concern. “My family’s the same.” She wasn’t sure if the apostrophe hid a was or an is. Both were true in her heart. As all things were regarding them, jumping between opposites. “Used to enjoy ‘em for just their piece of the wilds. ‘Til I saw ‘em as something whole.” That pleasant smile returned, as it always did when her thoughts became of trees and creatures that called them home. The one home she could always count on, even when the world had become a stranger. In between those strange, blinking lights, she could find those greens. No matter how small, and they certainly shrunk every cycle. “Aye. Is all a home that follows.” In many ways, like how it stepped into her mind. Nearly lost to that all, if she hadn’t already been acquainted. But in a blink, her eyes returned to knowing Ari. Returned back to death, and she knew it best of all. “True. They linger. In us. In memories. Or return as their new selves.” Her eyes began that search again, but found the same result. Nothing. “I see her in the butterflies.” It was only in sight. In moments of weakness, she had tried to reclaim Sky. But it would be cruel, when she wasn’t really Sky anymore. Their souls may come to know each other again and again, but the string that binded would never be the same. It was as dead as the body Sky left behind.

Eilidh’s hands did not forget the flowers in her moment of contemplation. But no mind was there to accommodate for novelties, and a stem bent instead of curved. Fingers traced along the blunt angle, relayed it back to her. It was then she looked down, but there was no disappointment. She enjoyed how it made the crown look lived in, despite just being born. The enjoyment found a new source, to that sudden laugh from Ari. Eilidh offered her own. “Cannae blame ya. Hair’s tricky. Thin n’ sticky.” The secret had been lost when she first attempted. Muscles still remembered, memories stolen from the woman that came before her. But they were just traces. Ones that were hard to follow, when her fingers couldn’t feel the separation of hair sections, and the mist in her mind made it hard to look at her reflection. Her stubbornness eventually made it second nature. She wanted to offer this wisdom, for the day was young and she was enjoying Ari’s company. But the subject shifted in a way that left her mind stumbling. “Hm.” Her curiosity corrected her course. “N’ you’re the sort that notices sucha thing.” Her mind listed the possibilities she knew. Of those joined with her in the mist. And those who hunted such. And it was in that wondering that she leaned back. But not in alert, in readying. Was this all a trap? Except, that didn’t feel right. The hunters she knew would’ve already tried their hand. There was no telling tension in the girl’s eyes. Still, Eilidh huffed, “Which’re you?”

Ariana looked over the flowers and how they gently swayed in the wind. In this window of time, she felt grounded by their presence. The way they always sprouted to life again after months of cold, how even the harshest winters couldn’t take away their beauty. How no matter where she went, she could always count on their presence come spring. Dependable and fleeting all at once. She watched a bee bumble about from flower to flower and for that moment, grief and guilt felt a little further away. “I think you’re right, they’re whole all on their own,” she said as her fingers continued their weaving. There was something calming about the motions. The constant movement of her fingers and the concentration it required kept her in the moment. Not the past, not the future, not her troubling dreaming. Just there, in that glimpse of time. “A home that will always return,” she added wistfully. People could feel like home, but once they were gone, they were just gone. Memories of them never really faded, but the permanent absence was still felt as if there were some fundamental piece of her missing. The forest, the trees, the flowers– they were something she could always come back to, would always come back to. And it would always hold small pieces of those who were far gone. “Hm,” she started, “I feel my sister in the flowers and the smell of cinnamon. Alcher, I feel in the trees and the earth.”

Ariana decided she liked Macleod. The company had made her feel a little bit lighter, unexpectedly so. She had every intention of lying around for the afternoon and just being lost in her own tumultuous thoughts. Macleod’s voice also had a soothing quality. “Yeah, and it definitely wants to do it’s how thing.” She knew her question had been a bit invasive. Her whole life, she’d always had to listen and smell out a situation for safety. Still did, but at some point it just became a habit and maybe just a little bit of her own curiosity. Macleod seemed to contemplate her for a second, as if she was trying to figure out what Ariana was, too. Not that Ari could blame her. Being able to hear whether or not someone’s heart was beating when you were sitting next to them wasn’t something humans could just do. “I am the sort that notices such a thing,” she offered as her lips twitched into a small smile, “I’m a werewolf. Have been my whole life. And you’re a zombie.” She said it plainly, because it was just that. They were what they were. It wasn’t as if there was any big beef between zombies and werewolves. Which brought a random thought to mind. “Hey, how do you feel about meat pies? I make one with brain and shit ton of spice that a friend of mine used to like.”

Eilidh let out an agreeing hum. “Return as all things.” But never the same. The forests she had known in her travels held pieces of each other. Same twisted trunk, same whistling grass, same hungry eyes. But only in echoes. Repeats that were twisted and twisted and twisted until time made them unrecognizable. And yet the essence remained. Like a soul; like the souls now watching them. She looked to the flowers and the trees in acknowledgement, bowing her head in greeting. “Ath-bhreith shona.” Ari’s confirmation assured her suspicions. That the ones who were mourned were amongst them, but only in echoes, in those flowing greens. She wondered who were the honorary guests; the bloodroot flower or the ash tree? Or maybe their souls were split amongst the array. She wondered the same when she looked to the butterflies — to her Sky. Was she returned as the one, or the many?

A wondering that had no hope of prosperity, in that change of subject. One Eilidh wasn’t bothered by — beyond that wondering if Ari held knives that craved her flesh. But she seemed too pleasant for that. No, the bluntness was refreshing. She had no suspects for Ari’s nature, no tell that had her mind buzzing. Yet with the pretenses gone, their place in the mist affirmed, it made her tongue free for more words. Phrases she knew made humans shy and made good conversation. But before it could know any of them, it first knew a growl. That damning, marking word. Again and again and again. “Not a zombie.” She barked on instinct. Possessed by angers both present and gone, culminating into one sharp statement. She blinked rapidly. Remembering the gentleness of the girl, the crowns in their hands. Her own sporting a new bent from her passions, causing a few petals to break and return to the ground. Her grumbling was cut off with a cough. “Slúagh. Is which I am.” No fascination could be found from Ari’s own reveal. One that would’ve been, if the prickling from the incorrect assumption hadn’t gripped her. But then there were talks of pies. Of brains and spices. It put a curious twinkle in her gaze. “Amn’t sure. What kinda brains?”

It was hard to find peace in the ways she used to. With her mind and hands focused on a task, everything felt a little bit easier. Ari wanted to keep that feeling. She wanted to bottle it up and be able to feel the same fondness in the flowers that made her think of Celeste. Her sister deserved for her memory to be precious, not tainted with guilt. So why was it so hard to shake that feeling when she was alone? She believed all the pretty words Macleod said and when the wind tickled her nose with the smell of flowers, it even felt like some part of Celeste saying hello. It brought a faint smile to her face.

When Macleod corrected her use of the word zombie, Ari found her brows furrowed in confusion, but she listened. She replayed the sound in her mind a few times before she repeated, “Slúagh.” It came out choppy and she said it more slowly this time. “Slúagh. I like that, I’ve never heard it before,” she paused, “I’m sorry, I’ll remember that now. Slúagh.” After she said it a few times, she found she liked the way it felt. It was different, not ruined by crappy media that had no clue what the undead were really like. Somehow it fit Macleod more too. She looked like she belonged amongst the flowers and sunshine, not some crappy dark film set. There was a certain warmth there that made her want to bake that pie for her. “Oh, usually just whatever they have at the butcher, usually lamb. After the full moon, I’m able to do deer as well,” she explained, “I’ll make you one after the next full moon. I mean, only if you want. Just like to try and use all of the wildlife I end up hunting as a wolf.”

With that acceptance, Eilidh felt the claws of her tensions release. It wasn’t stripped away for good. It never was. Left behind an extra scratch on her, from that repeated assumption. But one that was remedied more readily in the present years. The people of White Crest continuously surprised her. She usually existed on a pendulum. Of people refusing to believe because of their refusal to see a world beyond humanity, or from a refusal to let go of the word zombie. Rarely settling in that comfortable middle. “Is alright. We’re a rare sort.” A statement that was typically left at just that. Simplicity. Others weren’t owed the complexities of her persons. But nature and her kin always made her the more talkative type. And Ari had proven she was more accepting than most, whose presence was as pleasant as those flowers. Both her hands went to their respected cheek, wiggling as if her face grew tentacles. Her voice dropped a few octaves and gained a growl. “An eater of souls.” While chuckling at her own performance, her hands settled back into her lap.

Those old wounds were entirely forgotten, antiquity had a knack for such, at the mention of meat. “Deer.” The delight was clear in Eilidh’s voice. She missed the days when she had it regularly. Back when she ran with a pack of her own, similar to the one she assumed Ari did. Difference being hers was trapped in the past. She was a hunter, and hunt she did, but there were days she felt far from the word. While her palms still filled with fresh blood, the present liked to force her to settle. To scavenge; to let strangers kill her meals for a buck. At least, the days she bothered to give that buck. But Ari felt less a stranger the longer they weaved together. And she knew the heart of a predator beat in her chest, too. It felt less a transaction and more a sharing of a meal. “Be fine with any bits. I chew on all sorts.” She looked up and saw the moon staring back. Impatient for her turn in the sky, sharing it with the sun. “After you’re nice ‘n plump.” Her gaze went back to Ari. “Is a date. Got a phone?”

The giggle that followed the explanation and the funny tentacle face rang through the breeze. It was a foreign feeling, one Ari had forgotten. The simple joy of just existing among the flowers and laughing while making flowery hairdos. In her mind, she could hear a whisper of Celeste’s laughter following with hers. It was a sound she missed more than anything so she drank it in and smiled at Macleod. This was a good bit of time stolen from grief. “Very spooky,” she commented with a smile that actually made its way to her eyes, “Slúagh. I’ll remember that.”

It’d be nice to have someone else to make things for. Back when things were simple, Ari would often make stuff like this for Morgan. All the recipes lived in her head with no outlet and now she had a reason to use them again. She smiled, “Good, I’ve got a few recipes up my sleeve. Always best when the meat is fresh too.” As she thread the last flower, she looked at her creation. She imagined it was bright and colorful though she had no true concept of that. There were varying shades of blues, yellows, and browns in her world, but it was beautiful all the same and had a soft scent to it. “I think I’ll have to make one of these every spring,” she said as she pulled her phone out of the backpack sitting next to her, “And I do have a phone. Longest I’ve gone without breaking one, actually.” She opened up her contacts to create a new one and handed it to Macleod. “If you put your number in there, I can send you a text so I can see you after the next moon.”

“Appreciated.” Eilidh returned the smile. Once more a reflection and a satisfaction. There was hardly a tell sorrow had touched the girl, except for the redness receding from her eyes. Kin to the ones that had retreated in Eilidh’s mind. Back to the nagging whispers they ought to be, for their worries spoke of the past. One that would repeat, reverberating against the path of Fate, but not just yet. Her present only knew of laughter and flowers, leaving those whispers no room. When the laugh settled into a chuckle, the flowers took importance. She looked, really looked, to her creation for the first time. Beaten by her fit of passion, but still beautiful. Those swirls of blue petals within green stems like a river rushing through. Those pops of orange and yellow like the sun reflected on the waters. Red usually held dominance, but her peripherals told her those were those sickly fruits. Made her hands skip over them entirely. A difference that didn’t deter her excitement, as she placed the crown where it belonged. She wiggled her head, making the crown to bounce along, turning it into a dueted dance.

Eilidh saw her delight was mirrored. Since her own had been properly inspected, her eyes fixated on Ari’s makings. A rainbow ripped from the sky — fitting in a hand and soon a head. She nodded in approval, giving one clap to emphasize the feeling. “Eh? Why just the one?” Question spoken in jest, asking for no real answer. Besides, her true question had a response. “Aye. Ya think they’d make these things more sturdy like. With how the world spins ‘round ‘em now.” The phone exchanged hands, but her own hesitated for a moment. Merely left her staring. An attempt to collect her thoughts, and hopefully her current phone number with them. There were many broken screens in her closet. She typed out a possibility, and just as quickly deleted it. No no no. Not that one. Her fingers tried another, and with a nod, she confirmed it was probably true. They would find out soon enough. “Be looking forward to it. Is not often I get a cooked meal. Or an eat with others.” The phone went back to its owner. But before her hands retreated, they settled onto Ari’s own. “N’ if ya ever feel in a flower mood. Send a text, too. ‘Tis the season.”

#petals for armor #wickedswriting #chatzy #;— interactions #ft. ariana b.#sibling death tw

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inspirationdivine · 4 years

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End of the Line || Kaden, Agatha, Ariana, Chloe, Kelly, Todd

Timing: Current Parties: @chasseurdeloup, @letsbenditlikebennett @detective-keen @itsyaboytodd Summary: Pain. Warnings: Significant discussion of domestic abuse, emotional abuse, drug manipulation (leanan-sidhe kiss), vomit

There was no waiting anymore. No avoiding the inevitable. When Kaden mentioned that Lydia should be leaving town, Ariana knew this was the only chance they had to get the humans she’d taken hostage out of there. How many humans Lydia currently had living in her basement was unknown, but they needed to be out. They needed to get their life back. She hadn’t been able to do it for Ace, but she could help these people. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had the worry she felt for Athena shoved away. She was capable and she had people on her side helping her against Lydia. She would be okay. She had to keep telling herself as much. Being on separate sides of this mission did little to squash her worries, but this was bigger than that. These people needed them, so she’d step up and went over everything Athena told her about fae promises in her head over and over. She’d only seen Agatha once before, so she turned to Kaden and asked, “You’re sure she’ll be out?”

Kaden had been grazed with a fucking bullet earlier tonight. He shouldn’t even be out here but he couldn’t sit back and let this lie. Not when he had a shot at actually making this right. For once. “Positive,” he told her. What he failed to mention was why he knew that. What he’d failed to do. What it might have cost. This was his mistake. He should have waited for the fucking plan. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, readied himself to push past the pain. It wasn’t like it was anything new. “Keen was a last ditch effort. She’s banking on her promises,” he assured them. Not to mention the ones he bound her to himself. Part of him hoped she’d be there waiting and she’d see him again and feel a fraction of the pain she caused others over the years, selfish as that hope was. Reality set in. This wasn’t about him. Or even Lydia. This was about protecting humanity, always came down to that. He peaked around at the entrance to the house in question. The garden was trashed, glass everywhere, the windows were either gone or covered with tarp. Regan’s work if he ever saw it. “It looks like security’s gone. Maybe.” He shut his eyes a moment, tried to listen harder, make sure. “I can’t tell one way or another. We should be careful,” he said, looking back at both Ari and Keen before reaching down to unholster his gun. Better safe than sorry.

Agatha stood beside the pair. Staring into the void, she recalled what had happened over at Kaden’s flat. She still couldn’t make any sense of what had happened to her, but if what she had understood was real, as nonsensical as it seemed, then there were people being kept inside Lydia’s house, against their will, just like she had shot Kaden against her own. The mention of her name managed to draw her out of this day dreaming. She gave her co-worker a glance, worried, and feeling as if she would never forgive herself for what she’d done. She had shot an innocent, and it felt like the right thing to do. How. How. All she wanted now was to get in there, and make sure that Lydia would not harm anyone ever again. But first, they had to get her captives out. Kaden seemed sure of himself when he claimed that she was not here, and wouldn’t be here in a while, still Agatha worried of what would happen if the woman came home early. She had put on her bullet vest, and prepared herself for what she understood would not be a piece of cake. Following after Kaden, she glanced at the kid with a frown of disapproval. Perhaps Ariana was capable, but what was she doing here? This was going to be intense, dangerous perhaps, and she did not want to babysit while she was working.

Somehow even though Lydia wasn’t home, the house seemed daunting. Ariana wasn’t sure she was ready to see the conditions Sammy lived in. Where he had spent his final days before Lydia had done the unspeakable. She bit back the wave of emotion that threatened to spill over. She could be sad later. Right now, the other people in Lydia’s home still needed their help. There was only one way to go from here. She closed her eyes momentarily and concentrated on what she could hear and smell in the home. There were only a few people in there, tops, and they smelled vaguely familiar. Outside the door, it was still too difficult to tell. “I don’t think security is here. There are a few people from what I can smell.” She had no idea what Agatha knew about all of this, but it was too serious a situation for her to mince her words and not communicate clearly with Kaden. Let the detective think she was weird for all she cared. She turned to Kaden and asked, “You up for breaking down the door with me?” She waited a moment for confirmation before charging the door. A few sturdy slams and it busted open revealing the lavish mansion that Lydia called home. Something about it sent a chill through her. It was nicely decorated and there was art there, but knowing where the art likely came from only served to make her stomach turn. She took a few sniffs and pointed, “We should start upstairs, I think.”

Couldn’t smell them? Kaden’s face scrunched a moment, trying to push away any discomfort trying to burrow its way inside him. He wasn’t exactly used to working with a werewolf. Funny enough. Still, he trusted Ariana. He had to remember that. Still, he paused and shut his eyes a second, listening for any heart beats. He heard his, Agatha’s was pounding, and so was Ariana’s. He didn’t hear anyone immediately nearby. Didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone inside; even combined their senses were only so good. “Breaking down the door?” He didn’t see any reason why not to. It’s not like the house was in good condition right now. Maybe they’d get lucky and the previous banshee destruction would work in their favor. With a quick nod, he turned and threw himself into the door right alongside her. Putain. He forgot how much he still hurt, how recent his fight was. His face contorted and he took a deep inhale before slamming into the door with her a second time. Shit. He was going to regret that. Hell, he already regretted that, cradling his arm in his hand a moment as he winced. At least the door broke down relatively easily. No doubt Lydia wasn’t here considering how simple that was. That and the fact that there were no security guards waiting for them on the other side. The house was strangely normal. He wasn’t sure what he expected, honestly. Something darker, maybe? Danker. More like the prison and torture chamber that it was. He waited and listened some more. There were traces of something, but it was hard to pinpoint. “Sure, might as well.” It was a big place, it would take a while to comb through. His hand still gripped his knife as they climbed the stairs, shoes occasionally crunching on shards of glass. There were plenty of doors. Even with the destruction, the house was bright, clean and almost inviting. It sent a chill down his spine, knowing what he did. “Should we split up? Or stick together? This place is big.”

The ache of Lydia’s absence was beginning to sting in Chloe’s chest. She worked quietly, occasionally tapping a rhythm against the table to test how the words of her lyrics would flow. Todd and Kelly had calmed down enough, although she couldn’t help but occasionally glance over at them whenever they were in the same room. Lydia had left them with lots of carefully prepared meals in the kitchen, as she always did when she planned to spend some time in fairy rings. It was better when she didn’t come back for a few days, even when it hurt. Chloe was jarred out of her reverie when the door downstairs banged and clattered. She glanced at Todd, in the music room with her, but Kelly was elsewhere. Swallowing, she gestured for him to hide, walking silently over to the door of their room and turning the lock. You won’t ever let any guest of mine know you’re here. She retreated a little further back, remembering the red eyes of the last man who had broken into this hellscape sanctuary. She looked around cautiously, but Lydia’s upstairs office was the only place she could creep to with another lock on it, so she backed into it, locked that door too, and sank down against the wall, cradling her knees against her chest as the promise gnawed at her skin.

Kelly panicked, the moment she heard people smashing through the door. She looked around wildly, before scuttling into the one place Lydia didn’t take most of her guests - her bedroom. It was only once she was in there that Kelly realised that Lydia had several guests she did bring in here. Oh god, could she maybe hide in the bathroom? With a squeak, Kelly locked herself in Lydia’s bathroom, and clambered into the warm towel cabinet, pulling it closed behind her.

The days that had turned into weeks since Todd first found himself trapped in Lydia’s home, they’d passed by in a daze of confusion, longing, and pain. Pain, because he didn’t understand what Chloe and Kelly tried to tell him. He couldn’t make sense of the words that bound him to this place, didn’t understand any of it. Magic? It was magic? But, magic wasn’t supposed to do things like this, right? He had been in the sound studio when he’d first heard the door being knocked down, the impact shaking the otherwise still house. And, for an instant, he’d wanted to scream. But, the sound died in his throat, the promise that bound him to Lydia searing his vocal cords shut with a sharp lance of pain. Clutching his throat, Todd felt his body move, seemingly on its own, looking for a place to hide. Because that was one of the many promises he’d made-- he would hide, he would stay out of sight, and he would remain quiet. Rising from his chair, Todd locked the door of the room, the pain easing slightly as he did so. He tip-toed across the floor before squeezing himself in the gap between the wall and the desk. His hands pressed against his face, teeth biting into his fingers to keep from shouting. He had to keep quiet. He had to obey.

There was something eerie about Lydia’s home even though she knew the woman wasn’t home. Maybe it was because she knew all too well what happened here, but on the surface, it looked like just an ordinary home. Like Lydia was just an ordinary albeit wealthy person. The art that hung on the walls was a bit pretentious, but homey in its own way. How someplace could look so welcoming and yet be so dark was a lot to digest. Ariana knew better than to get too caught up in any of the small things lying around. Getting these people out alive was their priority here today. She closed her eyes and focused on the smells around her. There were two that smelled familiar, but one pulled at the heels of her feet. “Wait,” she said as she reoriented herself to follow what she was smelling when realization hit, “That bitch.” There was venom in her voice as she could smell Todd. That was why he had been taking time to work on projects and not perform. She felt her fists ball up at her side as she stomped forward toward an office. “Someone’s this way. I-- Kaden, I know who it is.” It only pushed her forward further only to push right into a locked door. “Fuck,” she grumbled as she grabbed a bobby pin out of her hair. “Don’t worry, I got this one,” she told Kaden and Agatha. She pressed her ear against the door and fiddled with the pin until she heard the click of a lock. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and softly said, “Todd? I know you’re in here, it’s okay, we’re not guests.” She hoped that statement somewhat helped work around Lydia’s promises.

Please just go away, please just go away, Todd thought to himself as his body continued to contort in pain, filling his bones. What had he done wrong? He was hiding, he was doing what he should, he was doing what Lydia wanted-- as he tried to figure it out, the doorknob rattled and he heard a voice. A… familiar voice. Megan? No, her name was Ariana, wasn’t it? No, no, no, no, no, please, he wanted to say. But, he still had his hand pressed firmly against his mouth, trying not to make a sound. If he kept quiet, if he kept quiet, the pain would stop, wouldn’t it? When she said his name, when she specified they weren’t guests, the awful feeling lessened and he let out a breath. “Y-you can’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. Sh--” His throat closed as he tried to say Lydia’s name, the promise that had originally gotten him into this mess reminding him of its presence. Gasping, he shook his head. “No, no, no, no.”

Kaden’s mouth pulled into a thin line as Ari went off by herself. Something about this house, he didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind. What if Lydia had added layers of words binding the humans since Sammy was killed? What if there was something horrible waiting for them in each of these rooms? No, there wasn’t time for that. He didn’t think. And either way, he had to trust Ariana could handle herself. She’d proven that much. “Okay. I, uh… Left it is,” he said with a shrug and went towards the door across the way. He tried the knob and it opened easily enough. It almost unsettled him more to know he was entering somewhere that wasn’t off limits. He gulped back the uneasiness that had settled in since stepping through the threshold of this place and walked into the room. “Woah.” The words left his lips without a second thought. The room was huge. Possibly bigger than his apartment. And this was just the master bedroom?

Kaden shook off the awe. This was nothing to be jealous of. And it wasn’t why they were here. He wandered in, quietly and carefully. There weren’t any signs of movement, not yet. He couldn’t hear any new heartbeats just yet but he kept moving through the room. It felt like a home. Normal, almost. Queasiness dropped into his stomach. Still, he found his feet moving towards the dresser in the corner, practically drawn there by something, like there was a string pulling him along. There were pictures of smiling faces, Lydia with what had to be friends and family. She looked so normal, so much like any other human. His eyes drifted down to the bones sitting on the dresser, arranged lovingly even if in the corner. His fingers ran over them, feeling the smooth, cold surface. Banshee gifts if he ever saw them. Were they from Deirdre? Regan? Maybe both. He clenched his jaw against the tears pricking at his eyes. This was too complicated. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be about Regan or even Lydia. He shut his eyes and concentrated, pushed past the barriers he put up around his senses and listened. A new set of thudding pounded in his ear. He tried to the right, quieter, then the left, louder and louder as he went. “Hello?” he said tepidly, opening his eyes as he walked slowly towards what looked like the bathroom. “I’m not here to hurt you. And I already know you’re here so it’s not breaking any promises to answer.” He didn’t know if that was true, but it didn’t hurt to try. He tried the knob. Locked. “I won’t hurt you. At least-- I’m not a friend of Lydia’s. Please. Let me in.” He tried the handle again. Nothing. He waited for a response, anything. If nothing changed in a few seconds, Kaden had no issues wrenching the handle open himself.

Kelly pressed her hand over her mouth, trying to suffocate her whimpers and hummingbird fast breathing. She heard Lydia’s bedroom door open, and imagined some creeping, monstrous shadow of a creature creeping through the room, like the Mindflayer in Stranger Things. Hello, it called, and the image in her head shifted. It was something bipedal, its limbs distorted and a voice like an angel only to disguise a maw full of teeth. Lydia wanted her to stay hidden. She whimpered as the closet door whimpered, the promise burning her lungs. She was going to stay quiet. She would be good.

As the two others decided to stick together, Agatha chose to go the other way. Just like them, she climbed up the stairs, but when they turned left, she went to the right. Alone now, she had gotten her weapon out, ready to fight back should she be there, somewhere, waiting to get them one by one. She arrived in one of the most spacious living room she had ever seen. She moved around grazing the walls, checking on every door. Some of them were closed, while others were not. Although, upon inspection, she had found, aside from a large amount of beds in one room, not found anything shocking. She noticed that there was not a single computer in sight, nor was there a phone, or anything that could have facilitated communication with the outside world. Will there was an obvious and expected lack here, there were none as far as the bookshelves were concerned. She couldn’t help but gaze for a short moment at the book spines, wondering what those were about. Her eyes were drawn toward some of the names. “The Eyes to the sky?” Her brows furrowed as she picked up one of the books that bore Lydia’s name. Wait, she was that Lydia Griffin? Under her breath, the detective muttered one particularly surprised what the fuck as a photograph of the woman on the other side confirmed it. “Well now you gotta tell me what face cream you use,” she commented, dropping the book back on its shelf. Now perhaps was a good time to see what all these doors were hiding. One of them was a recording studio, kicking the second door open, she did not expect to get so lucky on her second try. In there, hiding in a corner, there was someone. Remembering what the other two had said, she put her hands up and calmly, she explained: “I’m not a guest, I’m... “ Well the badge certainly helped get her point through. Damn, this room was busy, she thought to herself, for a split second turning her attention toward the rest of the office. “It’s going to be okay, I’m just going to talk with you, alright? As a not guest.”

Police officer. Chloe stared at the badge, trembling. Hives were beginning to raise along her skin as the blonde woman stared at her. No one ever came up here, not without Lydia. Remmy hadn’t come in here in the months they’d been here. It was only ever business associates. But she’d heard the wood of the oak door splinter downstairs. The door in front of her had been kicked open. Something had changed. Something was changing. As a not guest. The emphasis was weird, strangely knowing. Chloe felt a horrible ache in her chest. If there were police here, Lydia wouldn’t come back. She’d never knowingly betray herself. Chloe had known for years that Chloe needed Lydia more than Lydia needed Chloe. That was the way her brand of intoxication worked. Fuck. “Why are you here?” She asked hoarsely, pushing herself onto her feet, pressing herself against the back wall as hard as she could. “Who are you?”

Seeing Todd’s pained expression sent a fresh wave of rage through her body. While it stood she didn’t have it in her to deal the final blow, Ariana could only hope Luce and Athena made it painful for all she’d done to these poor people. Her heart sank realizing she hadn’t even known Todd would be here. She should have been a better friend, reached out and checked in on him more. She’d been so caught up in her own shit, that Lydia managed to get yet another one of her friends. “Hey, shhh,” she assured him as she reached out a hand for him, “It’s going to be okay. I should be here, you’re not doing anything wrong.” It was hard to gauge what his promises were, but he was in pain and she could only hope Lydia would be dead sooner rather than later. “I’m going to make sure you’re safe, I promise.” She looked to him with pleading eyes using a word she had promised herself to never use again, but she planned on delivering. There wasn’t another option. She refused to let Lydia take another friend from her. “Lydia’s not here. I’m not a guest, friend, or company-- Well, I’m your friend but-- Please come out, Todd. The pain should fade soon, but don’t push too hard.”

As Ariana came into view, a wave of relief rushed over Todd as he saw a friendly, familiar face. Well, friendly wasn’t quite how he’d describe how she looked at him. Worried, more like. Really, really worried. And, he was too. As she kept talking, he could feel the sharp edges of the promise start to dull, the pain lessening. She wasn’t a guest, she wasn’t a friend of Lydia’s. There was wiggle room with the magic, like the silence between notes of music. And that was what he could use to-- Swallowing, he didn’t dare let himself think about that, knowing full well what the promise would do to him. “How are you here?” He managed to say, his hands shaking with fear and dread as he stared at his friend with wild eyes. “I-- I’m trying. I’m trying.” He repeated as he managed to pull himself from the corner he’d shoved himself into. Ariana wasn’t a friend of Lydia’s, she wasn’t a guest, this wasn’t covered by the promise, which meant it was okay. The mental gymnastics of the magic were hard, but they were all that allowed him to stand upright and take a shaky step forward. “Kelly. And Chloe. They’re here too.”

Shit. There was no response. Kaden knocked again just to see. Alright, guess there was no other choice. He yanked the door knob and forced it open, breaking the handle and pushed the door open. Shit, the bathroom was huge, too. He peaked around the corner and saw the huge jacuzzi tub and vanity. Right. He approached and… no one there. He looked in the actual bathroom. Nothing there. Not in the shower, either. “I know this is probably terrifying but I’m not going to hurt you. I pr--” Shit. That word. That stupid fucking word. Whoever was here had heard enough of that word. “I know you’re probably bound a million different ways but I’m going to help. I’m… I’m with the WCPD.” Kaden wasn’t sure if that was going to help or make things worse. There was only one place left to look, though. One door. He opened up the door to the linen closet and saw a terrified, shaking girl. Shit. Shit. His heart shattered and he wanted nothing more than to haul her out of there and make a break for it out of this fucking house. Instead, he took a deep breath and held up his hands in surrender. “See, not going to hurt you. Can you speak to me? Are you able?”

Kelly screamed as light flooded into her cupboard, jerking back so ferociously she banged her head against a warm pipe, and tried to pull a towel over herself to hide. The promise was broken, it was already too late, Every muscle felt like she’d pulled it without warming up, but she still tried to hide. “I don’t know. Please- please go away!” Kelly scrambled forward, reaching for the cupboard door, and tried to pull it shut to hide her back in the dark.

She had to be careful about what she would tell that woman. Since Agatha did not fully understand the extent of the manipulation, she felt like she was a tightrope walker, 30 feet above the ground. Her hands still up, she lowered them to place the gun back in its holster. At least that woman allowed herself to speak with the detective, she realized, relief making her shoulders loosen down just a little. This was good news, although it did not look like she saw Agatha as her savior, or like she wanted to leave the place. While having never encountered this in the past, it reminded her of those articles she read on Stockholm’s syndrome. All she hoped was that this was not bad to the point of attacking the people who were here to save her.

She did not move closer to the other woman immediately. That woman was terrified, and nothing good would come from forcing her out of the room. This was Agatha’s ultimate resort, and one she did not intend to use. Lowering her voice, her tone was a bit calmer, soothing like a caress. “Do you mind if I have a look around?” She asked. An excuse to get closer, as well as an excuse to talk to her. “I’m Agatha, it’s nice meeting you,” she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, doing her best to appear as friendly and welcoming. Slowly, she moved toward the desk. Each and every drawer and cabinet was closed. Great. Her eyebrows raised and she glanced at the woman. “Do you know how I can open it? I really don’t want to damage anything,” everything in here was evidence, and she was sorry in advance for ruining the room for forensics. “Do you think you could help me perhaps?” Agatha had had a promise in her head for just a few hours, and it had been hell, she could not imagine how that woman felt, and she wondered for how long she had been there.

“You’ll get us in more trouble,” Chloe replied, still hard against the wall. She didn’t match Agatha’s gentle demeanour, but mouthed the name back at herself. Agatha. Agatha, the cop, rummaging through Lydia’s home. Something prickled in Chloe’s chest. “I don’t think I should help you. She’s coming back. She’ll come back. You can’t- She would want me to stop you.” But Lydia had never said anything about a police officer rummaging through her things. “Under the books. Nineteen forty nine.” There was a keypad. Chloe looked away, her insides churning. Just as quickly, she added, “We chose to be here. We want to be here. She’s going to come back, you know, and that- that’s good.” Two sides, always struggling. Lydia was going to be so upset when she came home to all this damage. The other two didn’t know better yet, but Chloe- Chloe watched Agatha and felt a tiny match in the darkness of her despair. She couldn’t think like that. “It really would be best if you just left, or talked to Lydia when she’s back. It’s not what you think, whatever you think it is.”

Something akin to relief washed over Ariana as he stepped out from his hiding space. Working within the bounds of everything Lydia made them promise wasn’t easy, but she so desperately wanted to get them out of here alive. It wasn’t a guarantee, but hopefully once Lydia was dead some of these promises would be released. She knew better than to ride on that though. She did her best to hide the nervous energy that was pulsing through her. Unlike her, he didn’t have the advantage of supernatural hearing and probably couldn’t even tell that her heart was practically racing. How she was here was a loaded question and there was hardly enough time to explain. “It’s a long story. Lydia had another one of my friends hostage before, I got help. She won’t be keeping you or anyone else like this anymore.” Her eyes nearly dared to plead with him, but she kept herself confident. Todd needed to believe her. He needed to think he wasn’t breaking any promises to find that small space between them. He needed to believe he could go back to his normal life. The certain brightness and enthusiasm he had possessed before seemed so diminished now and it only served to further her hatred for Lydia. Then he said the name Kelly and she felt herself turn queasy. Not her too. That absolute bitch. “Kelly? Singer who is about my age- she- what?” It had only been a few weeks since she last watched her open mic night. How had she forgotten to check back in? “Okay, okay. I didn’t come here alone. We’ll help Kelly and Chloe, too. We just have to find the others.”

He could walk, he could follow her, Todd thought to himself, willing himself to take step after step behind Ariana. It hurt, all of this hurt. It would just be so much easier to stay here. He could hide himself away, tuck himself back in the corner and wait for Lydia to return. It would be better than this pain, wouldn’t it? Swallowing, he stared at Ariana as she talked to him. She knew someone else who’d been here? Someone else who’d been trapped in this house? “I-- Okay. Okay. Chloe, she, she was here with me before, but I don’t know where she went now. Maybe the office? But I want to,” His body contorting in on itself as he let out a wince of pain as he forced himself not to think about leaving, not even dare to hope for it. “I’ll follow you.” He said shakily, the words just enough of a loophole for the magical pain to stop clawing at him. Would this work? Would any of it work? He just wanted to be free.

Shit. She hit her head and Kaden’s first instinct was to reach out and help her, apply pressure, check the wound. But he had a feeling that would only make this worse, cause more pain than he already was. “Sorry, I’m--” Putain, how could he help? He had to-- “What did you promise? We’ll-- Is it that I can’t see you? I’ll shut my eyes or, or-- If you have to hide, we’ll-- put a towel over you and you’re hidden. Right? I-- Just please. Please, I’m going to help. I just want to get you out of here.” He put his hand out for her to take, wedging himself between her and the door, wishing it was enough. She looked so young and so broken already. And he didn’t know what to do. But he had to try. “I know it hurts. It’ll be over, soon. Please. Let me help.”

Kelly just shrank even more deeply into herself. “No, no! You’re lying!” Some part of her knew, deep down, that Josh wouldn’t want her to be like this. Her brother would want her to reach out and take his hand. She knew, god, she knew that leaving was the right choice. Everyone had explained so much, but it still didn’t seem real. Was it really wrong to want the stability and warmth that Lydia offered? As long as she did the right thing, it would be okay. It would be awesome, the music she’d already written in the last couple weeks would more than catch the attention of a crowd bigger than the local bar. But she didn’t know this man, and if she did the wrong thing… well, Chloe’s scars told a story of their own, didn’t they? “I’m being good. Please go away.”

Agatha, her heart heavy in her chest, looked Chloe in the eyes and with all the assertiveness she could muster, assured her that Lydia was not coming back. Never. She made sure not to promise anything, but rather spoke just as calmly, explaining everything she was doing as she moved across the office. 1949. Agatha repeated the number in her head and searching through the books, found a concealed safe. The code provided opened it, and within it, Agatha found what she was looking for. “Thank you,” she gave her a warm smile and sat down at the desk, opening the cabinets one by one. “Do you have any free will left?” She glanced up from the drawer she inspected, once again searching for a hint of anything in the other woman’s eyes. “I do not think anything. I find evidence, and then I draw conclusions,” and what she was seeing was not comforting. In a box, within the drawer, she found a stack of identity papers, some expired, some dating back to a few decades ago. All of those belonged to different faces, and Agatha had to take a deep breath to stop her head from spinning. What the fuck had happened here. Who the fuck was Lydia? Well, at least now she knew who the other woman was. “Chloe, you’re Chloe,” she had a small sigh of relief and a sunny smile for her. “It’s good to meet you Chloe.”

Agatha’s words hit Chloe like a waterfall, crushing her. She didn’t believe it, not at first, but the whiplash sting of Lydia’s biggest rejection hit her right in the chest. She wouldn’t have. She couldn’t have. Chloe hadn’t always behaved, but Lydia wouldn’t lie about going to a fairy ring, would she? Why wouldn’t she- Chloe covered her mouth and stifled an unwelcome sob, determined not to fall apart here, not under the force of toxins she had no control over. That didn’t make it any less real now, her brain could not separate the ache as clearly as it could the intent. “How do you know?” She breathed, scratching at the hives on her neck as Agatha began digging through Lydia’s desk. Finally, she summoned the courage to step away from the wall, staring at the box Agatha pulled out. “That’s a loaded question. I’m still me. It’s- it’s not like I’m just a puppet.” The instinct to protect Lydia even now left an acrid taste in Chloe’s mouth. As Agatha opened the box, her mouth ran dry. Right on the top was Todd’s and Kelly’s drivers licenses, but as Agatha began to sort through, there were more faces than Chloe could begin to recognise. Some, she did. One was a very young Anneliese, who had been taken seven years before her death, barely twenty at the time. Sammy, who looked almost the same, except there was a sparkle in his features in the dull photobooth photograph that she hadn’t seen in his real smile for months. Owen, too, and then there she was. Four years ago. The face there was almost unrecognisable. Agatha smiled warmly, and Chloe could barely force a half smile on her lips. “I guess I’ll find out if it’s good to meet you, Agatha.” There were voices coming from beyond, catching her attention. “Who else is here? More police?”

The pain so clearly etched on Todd’s face only furthered her desire to see Lydia dead. Well, perhaps not actually see her, but at least know she was stopped. Everything in Ariana wanted to grab him and just run out of here. She couldn’t be that reckless though. A broken promise could do more harm than good and she had to get him out of here. Everything about Todd had always been so genuine and sweet from the moment she’d met him. He was the absolute last person who deserved to be trapped here. She should have noticed something sooner. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and assured, “You don’t have to say anything else. I know it hurts. Kaden and Agatha will find the others.” She couldn’t shake the sick feeling in her stomach as she wondered if Kelly was her Kelly. If her decision to not trade her to Lydia to free Sammy or break her promise had been all for nothing. She put on a brave face anyway. Todd needed to believe in her right now even if she didn’t quite believe in herself. He agreed to follow her so she led him out of the room, not daring to leave his side.

Ariana took her time with him and listened for the others until they walked by a room with an open door. Curiosity compelled her to peek inside and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. “I-- we need to go in here first.” The room had a decent stock of pottery along the shelves and she knew they had to be Sammy’s. Her fingers ran along some of the vases as if touching the same clay he once touched would connect her to him again somehow. Her hand stopped on one that had some motifs of the moon decorating it and a sad smile crossed her face. Sammy had to have made it. Without thinking about whether she should, she grabbed it off the shelf and looked back to Todd with strengthened resolve. “Okay, let’s get to the others. Are you-- How are you feeling? We can go slow, just tell me if it hurts too much and we can stop. Figure out a way around it.”

Todd trailed behind Ariana in mute silence, because if he did not talk, he couldn’t lie. He just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, keeping pace with the girl. If he didn’t think about what he was doing, he couldn’t break his promise. If he could just keep his mind clear and just let it happen, the nightmare would end, right? He would be free. Shoulders hunched over, he thought about all the things he would do when he got back. He’d call his parents. Call his siblings. Let them know how much he missed them. Tell them he was sorry for not talking to them more, for not listening to them. He’d call Winston and Ricky and tell them that he hadn’t wanted to lose them. He’d tell them that he hadn’t wanted to cut them off. He’d tell them the truth, that magic was real and that he wanted nothing to do with it anymore. He just wanted to be free. When Ariana turned to look at him, he realized she’d asked him something. Rubbing his arms nervously, he nodded, “I’m… It’s okay. It’s okay right now.” He said. It wasn’t true. He’d been thinking of what would come after all this, and with the thinking, the pain had returned. “We should-- do this. It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m not. I know it must-- But I’m not lying. Please. Let me help.” Kaden’s hand stayed there, outstretched and untaken. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but he hadn’t prepared for this. Not in the slightest. He was used to dealing with tough scenarios between police and hunting work, sure, but there was a reason he preferred animal control to standard jobs. Dealing with people was hard. Especially when they were going against their best interests so painfully. He knew he must look like a monster, coming in and dragging her out of what was, unfortunately, her home. He couldn’t even imagine how he appeared to her, his face beaten and worn, half of him bandaged and certainly worse for wear. “I’m sorry,” he said before he reached in and pulled her out of the closet, trying to sling her across his back in a fireman's carry. Kaden winced, the pain of everything that came before settling into his bones as he did. It didn’t matter. He pushed it away, he could hurt later. For now, he was sure she was going to resist and fight him tooth and nail. He was going to get her out of here. She could thank him later. “I’m sorry. She’s not coming back. We have to get you out of here.”

Kelly screamed, her voice hoarse from all the singing she’d already been doing the past few hours. She tried to grab the inside of the cupboard, but no matter how hard she pulled it didn’t even slow him down. Terrified of him and terrified of breaking the promise, she trashed her legs and squirmed, but he wasn’t letting go. “Stop it! Let me GO!” She screamed. “YOU’RE HURTING ME! TODD! CHLOE! HELP!”

“That’s my job, dear,” she had a hint of confidence in a smile as she glanced at Chloe, one that matched the light in her eyes. Knowing things was something Agatha had always done quite well, and she did not care for those who called her a Know it all. As if it were an insult. Better a know it all, than a know nothing at all, she had always told herself. Still the look on Chloe’s face took its toll on the police woman’s morale, and she approached Chloe carefully, putting her hands on her arms, and looking her in the eyes. Truth was, the detective was not feeling too great herself. She had just shot a coworker, found out that some people could make you do things, put you in some sort of trance, and now, she had to deal with a case that was getting more horrific the more she found out things. And yet, she kept her chin up, no matter how heavy her heart felt in her chest, no matter how much she wanted to cry and scream as she remembered how scared and helpless she had been back at Kaden’s. She kept her chin up, and she looked at Chloe with a look on her face that said everything is going to be okay, you’re under good care. With Chloe by her side, she had looked at the different IDs and would have kept doing so, had it not been for the screaming. “I’m with another police officer, and a …” She frowned. “Someone who’s great at finding missing people,” well that covered it. “Let’s go have a look, alright? Stay behind me,” she closed the drawer, locked it and took the keys with her as she went out of the office.

“That not an answer,” Chloe replied, squaring her jaw, as if she could make herself immune to Agatha’s gentle demeanor. She didn’t- couldn’t believe it. Lydia had made herself the center of their universes, the sun and stars set at her beck and call. It wasn’t that Chloe missed her, it was that a world without her was impossible to imagine. It was impossible not to want to sob about the pain they’d caused Lydia just by being caught. Chloe was about to ask more about the police officer and the person find her when Kelly began to scream. “Wh-” As soon as they were through the door, when Chloe saw Kelly being hauled around, she didn’t stay behind Agatha at all, running over to Kelly. She almost lost her balance at the last second, staggering slightly as she got close to Todd. It wasn’t a fae promise to Lydia that propelled her forward, but a promise to herself. It had admittedly been about not letting the two kids absorb any of Lydia’s wrath if she could avoid it, but considering Kelly was currently slung over a stranger’s shoulders- she swallowed, grabbing a pencil from a nearby table, as if it could serve against any kind of weapon. “Please… please put her down! You’re hurting her, she doesn’t understand!” Chloe’s head whipped around, looking at Todd, and the girl standing next to him, away, and then blinked. It couldn’t be. Sammy wasn’t that good of a sketch artist.

Okay was such a relative term for Todd to use here when it stood that absolutely none of this was okay. He never should have been here. Ariana should have noticed he was gone. Should have checked in on Kelly more. “Good, just keep pushing forward. Everything is going to be okay,” she assured while placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Was it to steady herself or reassure him? She couldn’t really tell anymore. The vase Sammy made was clutched tightly in her other arm though she nearly dropped it when she heard a scream echo through the hallway. It confirmed it was in fact her Kelly. The very Kelly she decided to keep away from all of this and yet here she was anyway. Fucking bitch. She hoped Athena got a nice stab in for her though immediately chided herself for that thought. “Don’t worry, Todd, she’s just scared. I know all of this is hard and scary, but I’m going to make sure everyone gets out of this, okay?” She desperately hoped she could live up to that statement. They quickly approached Kaden who had Kelly slung over his shoulder. She raced up to comfort Kelly and let her know a familiar face was here. “Hey,” she said softly, getting a good look in Kelly’s eyes, “It’s okay, it’s me, Ari. This is Kaden, he’s not going to hurt you. We’re going to get you out of here, alright? You’re not safe here.”

Even though Todd was doing his best to keep himself together, it felt like his brain was going to explode as he tried to keep himself calm. And then, he heard Kelly screaming, heard her yelling, heard her begging for his help. Then a man, who was carrying her. Terrified, Todd felt the pull of the magic begin to curl in the back of his throat, choking him until he reminded himself that they weren’t friends, that they weren’t guests, they weren’t invited. Which didn’t count, it didn’t count, this was a loophole. Even so, he’d heard the fear in Kelly’s voice. He hoped that Ariana was right, that he wouldn’t hurt them. But, what choice did he have? He knew he couldn’t stay here, even though every inch of his body wanted to curl up and hide and wait for Lydia to return. He had to do this. The very thought sent another sharp wave of pain stabbing through his side and Todd staggered a bit, leaning against the wall. “We… We’re not safe here.” He repeated, because it was true and it wasn’t bound in magic. “Hurry. Hurry.” He urged the others. This nightmare, this hell? He just wanted it to end.

Chloe looked from Agatha to their other rescuers, to Todd, his face scrunched in concentration. Her stomach churned, her insides turned inside out at the thought of how disappointed Lydia would be, at the promises that she was so close to breaking with every breath. “We’re not going anywhere special, okay? We’re going to go look at the Magritte. If you lied to me-” Chloe turned to Agatha, her voice trembling, “If you lied, you could be killing us. But, we’re not doing anything special right now this second. We’re just going to get some inspiration from the Magritte painting. Without Lydia around- Without Lydia around we can just get some second hand inspiration from one of her ancestors.” The painting downstairs, near the front door. She looked back at the blue haired girl, and thought about the glaze Sammy had ordered in just that shade of blue. Could it be?

Kaden was used to screams in his ears. And she wasn’t even a banshee. Not that it stopped her from trying to rival them, that was for sure. He winced under the weight of her kicking and thrashing against his back. If he clenched his jaw, maybe he wouldn’t feel the pain shooting through his arm, maybe he could just ignore it. As he entered into the foyer, he saw Ari and Keen along with two others. They must be the other hostages. His brow furrowed as the woman begged him to put Kelly down. Guilt seeped deeper into him as he did as he was told, placing her down gently as he could and taking a step back. “Sorry, I-- I’m-- She wouldn’t leave the closet and I didn’t know what else to--” Before he could apologize any further, he felt the pain flashing through his arm again and rubbed the wound. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I--” As Ari said his name, it occurred to him that he never introduced himself, either. Why the fuck was he even here? He certainly wasn’t fucking helping, was he? “That’s right. I’m Kaden. Officer Langley. And this is Detective Keen. And we’re--” His face scrunched up in confusion again when Chloe explained even further. “Just…. here to… admire the, uh, the art.” Was that right? Was that what she was suggesting? There must have been layers upon layers of word binding and fae magic at work. And certainly she’d know how to work around it better than him. “So let’s all head downstairs and make sure we get a good look.” He held out his hand and gestured for them to go ahead of him. He’d make sure they made it down the stairs one way or another. As much as he didn’t want to have to carry on as he had been.

Kelly almost bolted the second she was set down, and would have if Ariana hadn’t been right there, alongside Todd. “I don’t understand. Ariana? Are you here too? Did she get you too?” She looked from Ariana to Todd to Chloe, who was slowly lowering her pencil. She looked at Todd, then Chloe, her face wrinkling. “I-... I don’t want to go. We should be staying here, for Lydia.” She looked at Kaden Langley, who was apparently a police officer, which meant… which meant… “Just… Just looking at the art, right. Um, okay.” She agreed, and cautiously walked down the stairs, to look at the Magritte.

Shit. She rushed after Chloe, and stopped in the foyer, where the rest of them were. So there were two other hostages then. At least two, she corrected herself, observing what was going on. She almost said something about Kaden’s way of handling the issue, but decided against it. Agatha refused to demolish his authority in a situation as unstable as this one, even if she did not like this. “Well now she’s out of the closet,” this was not intended as a joke, and she kept her upper lip stiff. “Alright, yes. We were going to go downstairs to look at the Magritte,” wait they had a Magritte in here? What the fuck. Her face remained neutral, but the cogs in her heads were starting to hurt, as it seemed that she was hopping from surprise to surprise in this house. As one of the people in the room mentioned that Lydia could come back, she looked over at Chloe and shook her head, to remind her that no, Lydia was gone. Apparently the person Kaden had been carrying was not ready for that, and it was probably best to persuade her out of here through other means. She approached her coworker and, her eyebrow raised, she commented: “this is even worse than we imagined, isn’t it?”

Magritte? Who was that? Todd wasn’t sure what they were talking about; hadn’t Ariana told him they were going to get-- A fresh spike of pain had him leaning heavily against the hallway, grasping at his side. No, no, no, no. No, they were just going to see Magritte or whatever and they were… he was being good. He was listening, he was keeping his promise. He wasn’t disobeying. He was here, he was here, he was here. “Uh huh. Uh huh.” He nodded, trying to keep his mind as clear of this as he could. But, it was getting harder and harder to not think of the circumstances when he realized that the two not-guests Ariana had were police officers. “Let’s go look at the art.” He nodded in agreement.

The inclination to run was evident on Kelly’s face and she couldn’t ignore the guilt churning in her stomach. Ariana should have figured out a way to warn her, she did know she was perfect prey for Lydia. She reached out to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s me,” she said softly, “She didn’t get me. I figured out what was going on here.” The other woman had to be Chloe. Sammy had mentioned her and she had hoped she’d still be here. That she hadn’t been too late. There was something akin to relief running through her, but they weren’t out of the clear just yet. She nodded, “Chloe’s right. We should all get some inspiration from Magritte.” Whoever the hell that was. It hardly mattered if it helped them out of here. It was only a matter of time before Lydia was dead if she wasn’t already. Kelly didn’t seem ready to face that news so they’d focus on one thing at a time.

Magritte was a painter Lydia liked to show off several times a year, because his bizarre art style was often popular, even in the less expensive and famous pieces that she owned. Had owned, if she had abandoned it all here. Chloe paused the group in front of the painting, her hand curled in a tight fist to distract from the pain of thinking about this. “She’s not coming back,” Chloe said softly to the other two, taking Kelly’s hand in her own. Sickeningly, it reminded her of how Lydia comforted them from time to time, so she dropped that hand just as quickly. “It’s going to hurt more the longer we wait.” Chloe had been here too long. Her bones felt stiff, her body weary. She couldn’t frighten them off, especially Kelly, who was struggling to understand so much. “You’re going to have to break a promise. These-” Chloe looked at Kaden, who Lydia had once described as the most monstrous french creature in town, with frightening strength, and then to Ariana, who was a werewolf, that Sammy had waxed lyrical about. “These people can help, but it’s going to hurt, okay? But you’re going to go first, both of you, and it’s going to be -ah,” Chloe curled in on herself as the promise against lies pulled a stitch in her side. “We’ll figure it out. She’s not coming back, leaving isn’t disappointing her.”

“And it’s not over yet,” Kaden said quietly to Keen. He lingered behind in the foyer, let everyone go down ahead of him, hand hovering by his pistol, just in case. He knew there was no one else here, but something about this place made him worry that anything could jump out at them at any time. That it couldn’t be as simple as walking right out the front door. When they got down there by what he assumed was the Magritte, he turned the door handle and pushed. It was nearly silent, and yet the sound of the door swinging open on its hinges echoed around them. He took a step past the threshold of the house like it was simple. For him, it was. “She’s right,” he said after Chloe spoke. “This isn’t going to be easy. Even if Lydia’s gone and never coming back.” There was no guarantee this would work, that the promises wouldn’t hold post death. As far as he knew, they did. That’s what the fae all said, at least. Words were more powerful than mortality. “Is there, uh, any more inspiration outside? On the grounds, maybe?” he asked tentatively, trying to catch Chloe’s eye for some confirmation that he was on the right track. There wasn’t much left in the garden that wasn’t destroyed, not now. But that wasn’t the point. “Kelly? Are you okay to find out? Maybe take a look?” he asked, shifting his focus to her and tentatively holding out his hand.

The moment of truth was upon them. They were coming up on the door and this was where things would get difficult. Ariana took in a deep breath to keep herself steady as she spoke. “That could work, I know the promises are varied,” she said in a hushed tone mostly meant for Kaden and Agatha to hear. She stood closer to Agatha, but she hoped Kaden’s handy dandy hunter hearing would come into play here. “She usually makes them promise not to leave her home. Not to make any sounds when guests are present, they can’t even sneeze. She’ll turn anything they say that she can into a promise. I’m not sure what our work around should be.”

Agatha still didn’t understand how this worked, it was most likely hypnosis, but there was a way to go around those, as she’d found out earlier, as she shot Kaden without causing too much harm to him. As Ariana mentioned Lydia’s home, the detective had a small, and yet malicious smile. There might have been a way for them all to get out of here, and no one getting hurt, she thought to herself. She felt her heart lifting in her chest as she took a deep breath. “This is not her home anymore,” she glanced at Ariana, then at her coworker and added. “She left, and this is a crime scene. This place is now under custody of the police department,” her smile brightened and she gave Chloe a look full of hope, nodding at her.

Kelly stared at Kaden’s hand, as he offered it, and took it cautiously. She was pretty sure it didn’t work like that, and one look at Chloe’s face suggested it wasn’t very convincing. But Ariana… Ariana just knew, apparently, she knew things about Lydia that Kelly hadn’t until it was way too late. Finally, she looked to Agatha. “It’s- A crime scene? But, I want.” Chloe swallowed. “She left. It’s not her home. I- okay.” She turned back to Kaden, grit her teeth, and tried to move. Her joints locked up, freezing her in the doorway. “Help,” she breathed, her muscles beginning to burn as if she’d run a marathon rather than just walked down the stairs. Everything in her strained to stay inside the house, to drop his hand, to return to their bedroom and curl away from the world. It felt like it was breaking a promise, it felt wrong, even if this wasn’t Lydia’s home. She didn’t even know if her hesitation was psychological or the promise itself. It was embarrassing, all these people watching her. But suddenly her muscles moved and Kaden pulled and she had to put her foot down just so she wouldn’t fall on her face, and… she was outside. Kelly stared up at Kaden with the biggest look of confusion, then back through the door. “I’m… okay? I’m okay!”

This all sounded way too easy. Kaden wasn’t sure if they could just walk out the door and be perfectly okay. Would Keen’s idea even work? He held his breath and waited, watching Kelly take tepid steps towards the door. It felt like she stood there forever. Maybe she couldn’t do it on her own. And when she asked for help, it was clear that she couldn’t. Help. He was trying, but he didn’t know if he was doing the right thing. That didn’t stop him from trying. He reached out and pulled her across the threshold. He braced himself for her to collapse into pain or try to run back, something, anything. “You’re okay?” he repeated. The tension held in his chest dissipated as relief started to wash over him. One down. This would work. They’d be okay. They could save them. “You’re going to be okay,” he assured her with a smile before looking back to see who was next.

A tiny ball dissolved in Chloe’s chest as Kelly’s eyes lit up properly in the outside floodlights. Kelly looked from the door to Kaden and the outside again. It would start to ache soon enough, she knew. Not the promise, perhaps, but biochemical need to be with Lydia. Chloe just didn’t point that out. She also didn’t point out that Kelly and Todd only had a couple dozen promises between them, far fewer things to trip over than Chloe’s hundreds of promises. She looked at Agatha briefly, and tried to match that smile with one of her own. Maybe Lydia being gone meant Lydia being dead. Chloe swallowed, and tried to smile even more brightly for Todd. “You next, tough guy.” She gave him a quick hug, just in case she didn’t make it to the other side with them.

Thankfully, Agatha seemed to say the right thing and with a little push, Kelly was over the threshold. Ariana felt like she could breathe a little easier. This could work. They were going to get everyone out of here. She wasn’t going to fail all of them the same way she failed Sammy. She just needed to keep herself steady and confident to give the other two the push they needed to get out of here. They were relying on her so she did her best to hide her shock. “You’re okay,” she said with a soft smile before turning to Todd. Chloe had given him a quick hug and she stood beside him. Ariana placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You got this, we’re almost there,” she explained and offered up her hand if he wanted to take it.

Listening intently to the others, Todd tried to reassure himself that they were right. This wasn’t Lydia’s home anymore, it wasn’t hers. It was a crime scene. And he’d be able to leave a crime scene, right? She didn’t live here, it wasn’t her property, it wasn’t hers anymore. She didn’t own this place and she didn’t own him. He watched, with bated breath, as Kelly stepped over the threshold and out into the yard. And, for a long moment, all eyes were glued on her. But, if the punishment was going to come, wouldn’t it have happened already? A rush of relief washed over him as Kelly celebrated. Swallowing, he nodded at the others around him. “I got this,” He mumbled, cheek pressed against Chloe’s head as she hugged her tightly. “I got this. We’re getting out of here. We’re getting out of here.” He said and looked at Ariana with a nod.

Todd took a deep breath, steadying himself. This wasn’t her home, it was a crime scene. It was a crime scene. Those were the words he kept repeating to himself as he leaped forward, forcing himself to push through the pain that threatened to bring him to his knees. It wasn’t hers, he wasn’t hers. He was going to be free, just like Kelly and then Chloe would join them and they’d all be free. He’d be able to tell his parents how sorry he was, he’d apologize to Winston, he’d tell them everything about what had happened, he’d make it up to Ariana for having to rescue him from this. He’d do so much, once he was free. And, as he staggered upright in the front yard, he looked around with wide eyes.

But that’s not how Fae promises work.

Excruciating pain stabbed through his chest, starting in his heart and exploding outwards. It felt like someone had injected liquid metal into his body, boiling hot, and burning him from the inside out. A choking scream escaped his lips as Todd’s knees buckled underneath him, unable to keep him upright. He collapsed onto his stomach, body shaking with tremors as his hands reached up to grip his skull. His head felt as though it was imploding, like someone had stuck his brain in a vacuum, like it was going to collapse in on itself. His fingers clawed at his chest, his forehead, scraping at the flesh in an attempt to relieve the pain. He scrabbled against the earth, screaming, weeping, bleeding as he tried to crawl back to the house. But, he’d broken his promise.

With a shuddering gasp, Todd’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. A final violent tremor ran through his body and then, the DJ was no more.

“You totally got this,” Ariana assured as he prepared himself to step outside of Lydia’s home. Kelly making it over the threshold had given her confidence that Todd would be okay. That he’d leave here and she could tell Winston they’d need to look after him from here on out. She’d be a better friend. She’d check in on him more and make sure no more vile women like Lydia went near him ever again. If she hadn’t completely erased the word from her vocabulary, she would have promised him as much. She stood just outside the doorway now, ready to give him a hand if needed. There was a momentary proud look on her face as he began to step out of the house that was quickly replaced with one of horror.

“No,” Ariana whispered to herself, “No.” She quickly knelt down to try and hold Todd up, but the way he was clawing at his own chest made it impossible to do so. The pain on his face and in his screams was enough to make her feel sick. She reached out unsure of what to do. “Todd, no, breathe.” Come on, just breathe. Please don’t. “You’re over, it’s over, you’ll-” Her voice was strained and her hands felt useless trying to find a way to keep him upright. There had to be something she could do, but she was paralyzed by trying to find the answer, hands still extended hoping he’d reach for them and find a way to steady himself. Grip to her through the pain, she could take it. What she couldn’t take was what happened instead.

Defeat was evident in the way her features contorted on her face. Ariana dropped down to the ground beside Todd, hoping against all better judgment that this wasn’t it. That he just needed to be carried out of here. Her ears felt as if they were about to pop with the pressure that was building up as she bit back tears. Still, she listened for any sign of a heartbeat, but there was none to be found. Shaky hands reached down to feel for Todd’s pulse even though she knew better. She knew she failed Todd just like she had failed Sammy. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed out soft enough that no one with ordinary hearing would be able to hear. She was frozen in place, staring down at the damage as if she could will it to change. Will Todd to move again, to stand up and say this was all some sort of joke. She wanted to move, wanted to remember that Kelly and Chloe still needed her, but she couldn’t find it in her to stand back up. They were better off with Kaden and Agatha anyhow. All she seemed to do is make this whole thing worse.

Kelly watched Todd with wide eyes as Todd stepped over the door, her own smile cautiously watching him. For a second, when his foot touched the pavement, he was fine, and Kelly was about to be ready to celebrate with him when he contorted. She jumped back as he screamed, her hand flying over her mouth as he clutched at his head. “Do something!” She cried out, but stood frozen on the ground as Todd collapsed to the ground. “Do something!” He tried to crawl back, but it was too late. He shook, once, twice, as Kelly leant against

Kaden and wept, but the silence after his last scream was so much worse. Watching Ariana, Kelly found the courage to move forward too, cracking her knees against the pavement as she knelt over him. “TODD!” Kelly shook his shoulders, and then did the only thing she could think of, a move half remembered from a training video she’d watched years ago. Pounding on his chest, Kelly begged him to come back, or anything.

For all the misery in Kelly’s scream, the sound Chloe made was even more wretched. She choked and gagged after trying to scream herself, silent tears spilling down her face. “Don’t ever scream again,” Lydia had once told her, and Chloe had promised without hesitation, Sammy’s blood still soaking her clothes. Her tongue swelled up as if stung by a bee. Chloe clutched her chest until the coughing subsided, but when she looked up, Todd was already dead. “No,” Chloe breathed, sagging against the wall. Surrender was so much easier. “No, no.” She could clean it up. She could fix the door and sweep up the glass and make everything fine, so Lydia wouldn’t be upset. Todd wouldn’t have to bear the weight of Lydia’s wrath if Chloe was- She swallowed. Todd was dead. It was too late.

Kaden stood and watched as Todd started to walk forward. He knew he shouldn’t be as hopeful as he felt, and yet, he was sure this would work. Up until the kid collapsed. Part of him wanted to reach out, but Ari was already there, so he held Kelly back instead for the moment. The last thing they needed was for her to go back into that place. And Ari had it. Didn’t she? He would be-- But he wasn’t fine. He seized and Kelly and Chloe screamed. Kaden wasn’t sure what he did because the world seemed to stop and stand still. His grip on Kelly fell and all he could do was watch as she and Ari tried to bring Todd back to life. The sounds finally hit his ears and the world was turning again. He didn’t need to feel his pulse, he saw Ari check it and he could hear that his heart was no longer beating. There was no more hope left for Todd. He thought about pulling Kelly away, Ari, too. But he thought better of it. There was nothing more he could do there and they were okay as they could be. But Chloe. What was going to happen to Chloe? His pulse spiked as he looked over at her. “Hey,” he said trying to catch her attention from the other side of the doorway. “Chloe, I know-- Don’t give up. Not yet. Don’t--” He wasn’t sure he was any help. His eyes darted to Agatha, hoping she might have an answer. Forcing Chloe out of the house seemed so much more dangerous now. But she couldn’t stay, could she? Putain. What did they do?

All she could do was watch, watch Todd drop to the ground, Kelly beg, Chloe turn back to the state she found her in back in the office. She’d never been one to stand and watch as things happened before her, and yet, here she was completely speechless as she tried to make sense of what had happened here. Elation had given room to death and despair much too soon. If her heart once again felt heavy in her chest, she put it aside, refusing this desperate situation to take control of them all. If Kelly had managed to get out, then maybe Chloe would be fine, or maybe Agatha would regret this. Sourly. Gathering all the softness that she could muster, the detective squatted down, sitting just a little lower than Chloe, and with hope in her eyes, she looked straight into Chloe’s and reached for her hands, slowly. She would have usually gone straight to the other side of the door, see if she could do anything to help save Todd, but there was something inevitable, almost prophetic about the way he had died. Brutal, ruthless, with no chance of survival. Yet, Agatha believed. She looked at Chloe as someone who believed, and when she spoke, if it felt like walking on a line high above the ground, she made sure not to look down. “We’re going to try. You and I, we’re going to try, because we know she’s gone for good, and I know there’s a lot for you out there, so much more than in here. Think of all the places you’ll go, and see. The beauty,” there was a quiver in her voice the more she spoke, but she did not break. “Let’s try, please.”

“I gave up years ago,” Chloe snapped at Kaden, instantly regretting her words as Kelly whimpered. She rubbed her face, trying to get the tears against her face. She pulled a face that she hoped looked like an apology to Kaden, but her gaze slid back to Todd, dead on the floor. Like Sammy, trying to escape in his own way. Sammy had meant to come back, but it hadn’t made any difference. Chloe had cleaned his brain off the wall because of it, and she had thought then that she was proud of him having tried to escape. Maybe a quick death was better than what Anneliese had had in the end. Taking Agatha’s hand, she stood up shakily. Every atom in her wanted to split itself into two: the part that needed to stay, and the part that had seen Lydia for the viper she had been from the start. She didn’t listen to Agatha’s pretty words. Pretty words held lies and half truths. Everyone was looking at Todd’s dead body, and wondering how hers would survive if his hadn’t. They all used different words, which to fae made all the difference, but Chloe could barely remember what words she’d used before this. Hell, a single tense could kill her or save her. She just… couldn’t say that. She couldn’t tell them that she’d resigned herself to dying in this dragon’s lair years ago. She couldn’t extinguish the hopes on her rescuers’ faces before trying.

“Look away,” Chloe said to Kelly, and didn’t even try until Kelly had. She took a deep breath, nearly throwing up with the effort of pushing her muscles over the edge. It was like trying to get through tar. Maybe it wasn’t worth the fight at all. She could live here comfortably until her natural death, which was what Lydia would want. She could avoid the pain of breaking this promise. She grit her teeth. Life in a gilded cage was still caged. Then, like an elastic band snapping, she was over the threshold and felt nothing trying to pull her back in. Chloe inhaled the chilly, winter air, and thought maybe she should have grabbed a coat before all this. Then lightning tore through her mind, blood spilled on her face from her nose, and Chloe went the same way Todd had, right to the ground.

Everything around her kept moving, but Ariana remained frozen for a moment, staring at Todd’s lifeless body. If she stared at it long enough, maybe it would distort back to how it was supposed to be. Kelly and Chloe’s screams barely even registered in her ears until Kelly was beside her beating on Todd’s chest. Kelly. She’d wanted so badly for her to never know this kind of pain, so much so she put herself through more just to avoid it, but it had all been for not. Hadn’t they lost enough? Seeing Kelly’s panic awoke something in her and she took a shaky breath. She could be strong for right now. She could be strong for Kelly who needed someone to be strong for her. Kaden and Agatha were already with Chloe. After her failed attempt with Todd, it only seemed right to leave that to them. This, she could do. She placed her hand gently on Kelly’s shoulder and softly said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but he’s gone. We need to keep moving and help Chloe now, okay?”

“Well I haven’t,” Kaden replied, not combatively but with no room to argue. He knew hope hurt like hell. He didn’t know how long she’d been there or how she got there, but he could only imagine that trying to hold onto any spark of hope in the situation she found herself in would have torn her apart. He was getting used to holding onto hope for someone else, carrying it for them when they couldn’t bear to conceive of it. He’d do it for her now if he could. And thankfully, so would Keen. He was grateful she was there, keeping them level and together, standing beside Chloe. He nodded and waited on the other side of the door, just in case anything went wrong. Now that there was no doubt just how possible that was.

He watched her closely, monitored each step she took. He saw the struggle on her face, but there was a brief pause where she looked like she was just fine, like she would face the same fate as Kelly. And then the blood poured from her nose. “No. No, no,” he started and she tumbled down towards the ground. Kaden lunged out for her, catching her before she toppled to the ground, stumbling down to his knees as he did. “Chloe! Chloe, no,” he shouted, giving her one shake to try and revive her. She couldn't die. She couldn’t. They were going to fix this, they were supposed to save them. Losing Todd was horrible enough this-- “Chloe, please, don’t--” He could feel his own breaths get shallow and then remembered to check her pulse. Her heart had slowed, but it was still beating. “I think she’s alive. She should be--” Please wake up, please. These people deserved so much better and Lydia didn’t deserve a single victory, even in death.

For a short moment, Agatha had wondered whether Chloe would step over that threshold or not. Perhaps she should have, she thought to herself. No, no, absolutely not. A life spent in this house was not a life, and the detective was both proud and full of sorrow as she reflected on Chloe’s last action. No, this could not be her last. No, no, no, no. The detective repeated the word under her breath, exiting the house last to rush to Chloe’s side. “I’m calling an ambulance,” she declared, glancing at everyone around her as she dialled the number. She would call for backup next, but for now they had to save Chloe while they still could. “Put her on her side,” she commanded, standing up and walking aside to speak to the

Operator.

“No,” Kelly said, tear tracks on her face. She looked over to Ariana. “No, I can’t- I don’t understand. I don’t understand what happened. He- he was fine. Chloe- Chloe, don’t!” She stared at Chloe before nodding and squeezing her eyes shut. She whimpered as she heard Kaden yell, her eyes flashing open to look at Ari. It wasn’t until Agatha said she was calling an ambulance that she dared look back okay. “Is it over?”

There were warm arms around her. A chilly breeze tickled her cheeks. Grey winter light streamed through her eyelids. There was more pain than Chloe had felt in months, but there was more than that too. She blinked open her eyes, and tried to sit up. That- that was a bad idea. “I think- I think I’m going to stay down here,” Chloe murmured. She squinted up at the three of them, Agatha walking away with her phone, Kaden holding her and Ariana holding Kelly. That blue hair... “You’re the one who tried to save Sammy, aren’t you?” She asked Ariana softly, her voice croaking. Her eyes drifted back over to Todd, his eyes shuttered. No one home. She moved just enough to take his hand. There was so much pain. There was also something else.

Ariana couldn’t refrain from outwardly cringing when she saw the struggle Chloe went through upon exiting the home. Prison. Whatever someone would call it. This couldn't be happening. Lydia couldn’t be having this much of a victory. Not in death. Her stomach turned as she was unable to take her eyes off the scene in front of her. A comforting hand remained on Kelly’s shoulder though at some point she had to wonder which one of them she was even supporting. The blur of sounds around her stopped mattering as she remained hyperfocused on the sound of Chloe’s heartbeat that wasn’t quitting. She was still there. Still fighting. Hope wasn’t lost yet though the fear of it being crushed yet again was far from gone. An ambulance was on the way and Kaden was supporting Chloe, keeping her on her side. The storm had died down and she calmly said, “It’s over.” As much as it could be over. She knew better than to believe they wouldn’t be living with the scars long after this. “You’re free,” she assured Kelly as she still stared at Chloe. Her voice sounded strained, but Sammy’s name rang out in her mind. She nodded slowly and said, “I-- That’s me. I’m sorry I didn’t. But you’re getting out of here and she’ll never do this to anyone again.” She knew Athena would make sure of that. Everything still felt like hell and she could hear the sirens approaching in the distance, but it was over. This was finally over.

Kaden tried to get Chloe on her side before she pulled herself up. “Hey, wait, don’t--” Thankfully she figured it out before he had to pull her back down. He nodded at Keen as she went over to call 911. “We have to call in the death,” he added. It was meant to be nothing more than matter of fact, procedure. It hit him harder than he expected. They were supposed to save them. All of them. He wasn’t even sure if Chloe would remain okay. If she had broken free from all of the promises. But she was here. And breathing. And out of that prison of a house. He looked up at it, most of the windows broken or covered. It was shattered, just like the illusion of who Lydia was. Forever. He wanted to burn the place down, be rid of it and her once and for all. But they needed the evidence still left there. They’d make sure that no trace left of Lydia Griffin would be praised or lauded ever again. And make sure that Kelly and Chloe got justice they deserved, some compensation or retribution for this. And that meant leaving that awful place intact. “It’s over,” he repeated. “You’re safe,” he said, looking from Kelly back to Chloe. He hoped that was finally true.

Returning to Chloe’s side, Agatha assured her that an ambulance would come soon, and that she would be taken good care of. Her eyes then drifted toward Kaden’s arm, then to him. A silent nod answering his demand, the detective once again stepped away from the rest of the group, this time calling the morgue. She looked away, the group fussing around Chloe, responding mechanically to the operator's injunctions on the other end of the line. A tear came to burn her cheek, then another. With an audible sniff, she turned her back to the others, and walked away a little further. Behind his back, she heard Kaden repeat: You're safe, and although she was often optimistic this time, the idea that this nightmare was over did not seem to satisfy. Not that she thought all was well that ended well, but because it was hard to believe until Chloe got out of the woods.

#para #chatzy #agatha #humans #ariana #kaden #chloe #kelly #todd #emotional abuse tw #domestic abuse tw #vomit tw #drug manipulation tw #message if you need summary

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athenaquinn · 4 years

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Fix Me Up || Ariana & Athena

TIMING: Somewhere between 1:30am and 2:30am, October 20th, after the birthday chatzies (x, x) LOCATION: Ariana’s apartment PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: Soft™ CONTENT: Discussions of Emotional and Physical Abuse, discussions of death, panic attack

She had murdered her parents. Helped to, at least. Athena didn’t know what to do about that, she only knew that every time she closed her eyes she could see it, even though Nic had helped deal with the aftermath, somewhat. She only knew that she had to find somewhere to be so that she would be safe, so that she and Rio wouldn’t be the primary suspects. She knew that she had changed and she ran her fingers over the soft fabric of her sweater, against the cool feeling of her black jeans. Her hip ached where she had cut it against the marble countertop, but it was at least bandaged, and if push came to shove, she could wave it away as a soccer injury. Worse than any she’d gotten before - namely because it wasn’t a soccer injury, but it was an easy explanation. One that would also heal soon enough, she hoped. Her brother’s injury would be harder to explain, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. She had to believe that he was safe, and she had to find somewhere to go. Her mouth was dry and there were still times when she felt like she was going to pass out. It was too much to process, everything that had just happened, mere hours before. Was it hours? She didn’t know.

What she did know was that Ariana was the only person she could go to. Athena didn’t even think about what that meant about anything, only that she trusted Ariana more than just about anyone in the entire world. She drove her car on autopilot, grateful that she’d at least been by the other girl’s house before. She hadn’t brought much - too much would be suspicious, but too little would be just as odd. So she had pajamas, a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and all her schoolbooks. A favorite childhood photo of her and her brother was tucked into a copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, which she and Ariana were still in the middle of reading. It had been there beforehand, but Athena found herself glancing over to it repeatedly. She pulled up outside of Ariana’s apartment building and grabbed her things, nearly dropping her overnight bag onto the pavement as she did so. As if on autopilot, Athena made her way up to Ariana’s floor and to her door. She banged on the door a few times, and the second her friend opened it, she blurted out, “Can I please stay over? I - please?” Athena knew that her eyes must have still been wide with some variant of panic or worry, mixed with still not being quite there. She didn’t even remember much of what had happened, everything felt fuzzy and her body felt heavy and numb. Doing her best to level her breath, she offered a shaky smile to Ariana. “I know it’s very late - I - I’m sorry. I woke you up, didn’t I?”

Some time between throwing on Master Chef and getting in bed, Ariana had actually managed to fall asleep. She found it’d been harder to come by lately, but having Luna pressed up against her in bed made it easier somehow. A curt bark from Luna had actually pulled her out of a thankfully dreamless sleep and she slowly sat up in the bed, confused. She heard a banging sound on her door and quickly hopped out of her bed. It was dark out so it had to be late so if someone was showing up, it had to be an emergency. She could smell Athena before she even reached the door and her brows knit together in confusion. Recognition made her feet move more quickly toward the door and she carefully opened it to reveal Athena. She didn’t look good. By every indication, she seemed drained and almost detached in a way that felt familiar. “Come in,” she whispered and stepped aside giving her room to come in. The last person she expected on her doorstep this late was Athena which meant it had to be bad. “You’re always welcome here,” she assured and added, “Don’t worry, I’d probably get-- I haven’t been sleeping well. Just, you don’t have to be sorry.” She gestured toward the shelf by the couch, “You can set your stuff down over there. I’m going to get some water, okay? And tea, I have chamomile tea!”

While she had no idea what happened, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Athena had just been through hell. Ariana knew she couldn’t make that completely go away, but she could help take care of her and give her a safe space. She stared blankly at the wall for a moment as she waited for the water in the kettle to come to a boil. The shock of seeing Athena had woken her up, but there was this tugging feeling in her that she was the last person who’d be able to really help. If Athena was in danger, it felt like she’d somehow just make it worse like she had for Ace. She felt a twang in her chest as the whistle of the kettle alerted her that the water was done. She quickly poured the water over the tea and brought it over to the coffee table along with some water bottles and crackers. “Here, drink this,” she said as she pushed the tea toward her friend. Immediately questioning her didn’t feel quite right, so she gave her a minute. She knew better than most that some things were too heavy to speak of freely and whatever Athena was carrying seemed to weigh her down. “Are you okay,” she asked with concern evident in her tone.

She wanted to collapse to the floor when Ariana opened the door. She didn’t. Athena moved inside, unsure of her movements. She was usually so sure, so precise. She knew exactly how to move her body - but not now. Though she was doing better than she had been even half an hour ago, she still felt dazed, still felt unsure and confused. She moved automatically, without thinking - a glance over to Ariana and a small nod before she went and dumped her luggage on the floor by the couch. “Thank you.” She pressed her tongue firmly against the roof of her mouth. She wanted to scream. “Okay.” She called out, just barely loud enough for Ariana to hear. Should she have come here? Was this implicating Ariana in what she’d done? Ariana didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve to be brought into this. If Athena was arrested - even brought into the precinct as a person of interest, would Ariana be in trouble too? Athena had to remind herself that she wasn’t technically a fugitive, and she collapsed onto the couch, elbows pressed into her thighs and hands pressed against her face. She wasn’t sure if she could even cry anymore.

Before she could let herself get too caught back up in her thoughts, Ariana had returned and Athena sat up, grabbing the mug of tea in her hands and relishing the warmth. She felt so cold. “I - can - do you have a blanket?” She wasn’t sure if she was in shock or not. She had been, undoubtedly, right after the fact. She wasn’t sure if it had worn off yet. She took a sip of the tea, letting it sit on her tongue. Took a deep breath. She wasn’t having a panic attack, not quite - but she did her best to count - what she could smell - the tea, Ariana’s shampoo. What she could taste. The chamomile tea. “Thank you.” She wasn’t sure she’d ever thanked someone quite so many times in such a short period of time, or ever. “No.” She swallowed her tea and put the mug down on the coffee table. “I - I need to have been here all night.” She shook her head. Toed her overnight bag. She could smell the soap on her own skin. Her hands were red. “You’d say I was, right? If someone asked you?” She pressed her palms against her thighs, tears threatening to fall again. No. She refused to cry for her parents again. They had taken far too much from her already, she wasn’t going to let them control her any longer. “I - I did something, Ariana.” She could see their bodies even without closing her eyes and she felt like she was going to be sick. “I can’t - I don’t know if -” She bit her lip sharply, just enough to feel something. “It was bad. I had to. But it - nobody can know.”

In that moment, Ariana would have given Athena just about anything she could have asked for. There was no hiding that her night had been rough and she felt a hint of sadness as she remembered it was her birthday merely hours ago. The birthday she shared with both Celeste and Rio-- the former wasn’t around to enjoy it so she’d held out hope that Athena and Rio had a nice evening. It was more than evident that it wasn’t and she was quick to retrieve the fuzzy blanket Nell had brought over a few weeks ago. “Here,” she said softly as she draped the blanket over her, “Is there anything else I can get you?” Would she want a pillow too? She wasn’t overflowing with pillows but she would gladly share what she had. The next thing Athena said made her freeze for a moment. She needed to have been here all night which meant something that could get her in trouble must have happened. This was something she understood well enough seeing as she had almost had some legal trouble herself after what happened with the Aquillas. “Understood,” she assured. Whatever happened, she wasn’t about to throw Athena under the bus. Not when she had just narrowly escaped being arrested herself. “I can do that. You were here with me all night. We planned a sleepover for your birthday. We watched Moana and a few episodes of Master Chef,” Ariana listed out the night’s events as if they actually happened. Still, she couldn’t shake the millions of questions that were rising off. Especially as she said she did something bad. She frowned slightly wondering just what that could have been. “Athena,” she spoke softly, “What happened? You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone or think any less of you. I just want to help.” She meant as much, no matter what the answer was. With how much she’d lost already, Ariana was holding those who were still alive and in her life extra near and dear. If Athena needed her support, even if it was something terrible that she’d done, she could provide it. Help her navigate through it the best she could. All she could hope is that it wasn’t too bad.

“Thank you.” The weight of the blanket was comforting, even if she still felt like she was going to start shivering. Athena shook her head. “No - this - this is enough.” She was supposed to have gone somewhere, but why was she bringing Ariana into this? She didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve any of the potential fallout. Athena knew that she could have just as easily gone to her sorority house, it would’ve been easy to just claim she was there all night. However, something told her that Ariana was the only real option for this situation. “I know. I -” she bit her lip again. The confirmation that what she was saying at least made some sense was comforting. Not entirely, but given everything that had happened, she was willing to take anything she could get.

“I was. Master Chef sounds nice. I heard there’s a new season of the Great British Bake Off too.” Athena used a shaking hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “We had too many snacks, but I ate all the carrots so you didn’t have to.” In any other situation, she would have laughed, made some sort of joke, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to do so. No matter how much she appreciated all that her friend was doing, all that she was saying. Athena found one of the corners of the blanket and picked at it, gaze intently focused there and not on Ariana. She couldn’t look at her. She owed her honesty. That was what the two of them did, and she didn’t regret any of it. “I killed my parents.” She was going to be sick. She could still see their bodies on the floor, she could smell the soap that made her hands red. She could smell her shampoo - from whenever it was that she last washed her hair. She - “They were going to kill my brother.” She bit her tongue. “They were going to kill us both. I - I had to.” Though her brother had certainly played at least an equal part, she couldn’t take him down with her. Whatever they’d said to one another back at their house, she wasn’t going to put blame on him. “They - it wasn’t because they are hunters.” She finally looked up at Ariana. “Were. Sorry. Were.” With another careful breath, she added, “it’s because of everything they did. Everything they did that I didn’t even know about. I’m supposed to be smart. How did I miss - how?” She grabbed the mug of tea and took another sip, letting it lay heavy on her tongue before she swallowed. “I killed them. I had to. I am supposed to protect the world, it is what I was born to do. I had to protect my brother. I can’t - I can’t live without him, I don’t think.” She took in the feeling of the blanket between her fingers. “That’s - that’s why I need to have been here. I wasn’t - I can’t - not at home.”

Under any other circumstance, Ariana would have found this exchange to be humorous, but given Athena’s current state it was hard to feel anything outside of worry. All she knew was that she would follow this story and do everything in her power to keep Athena safe. So much loss had hit in her the past few months, she’d do just about anything to protect the people she loved and somewhere along the line, despite everything, Athena became one of those people. When Athena answered her question, it took everything in her power to keep her jaw from dropping. Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering what happened with Celeste’s parents, but she couldn’t imagine Athena and Rio also having to go through that. She reached her hand out before remembering the tension Athena radiated the last time she touched her. “Can I,” she asked softly. “I’m so sorry, Athena. I know-- That’s really shitty and so rough and neither you or Rio deserved to go through that. I know you were just trying to protect your brother.” The same way Celeste had just been trying to protect her. She hated this so much. From her own experiences, she knew well enough there was nothing she could say or do to make this better no matter how much she wanted to take her friend’s pain away. Sadness was present in her own eyes as she stayed there with her friend. “You don’t have to explain the why to me. I trust you wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Not realizing the things they did without telling you sooner doesn’t make you any less smart,” she tried to assure knowing nothing she possibly said or did in this moment would take away any of the pain Athena was feeling. “I know,” she responded, “You did what you had to do and if anyone asks, you’ve been here with me all night.”

Her parents would have wanted her to hate Ariana. Her parents would have wanted her to act on that hate, too - but she couldn’t. Athena had felt confused and nearly sick when she found out what Ariana was, and she knew that she was supposed to kill anyone who was supernatural, but the girl who was seated next to her on the couch was different. Always had been, she mused for a moment. “You can.” She didn’t want to flinch when people touched her. Her parents had hugged her, and been kind and gentle - usually. Except when they weren’t, though she’d never paid attention to that. It didn't matter, because it was all to better the world, to help train her to be her very best self. Ariana was good, and any help she offered would be genuine. Even though her side still ached - she was just grateful that she had quick enough healing that she wouldn’t need to go to the hospital. The hospital where her father worked - used to work. Still did, she supposed, since there hadn’t been any reports to the authorities yet. Unless one of their neighbors had already found their parents? She grabbed onto the corner of the blanket and pressed it against her mouth. She wasn’t going to scream. She could have screamed at home, but not here. She didn’t know how sound-proof Ariana’s walls were, but she doubted it was like at home. She had to be calm. She had to be rational. “I can’t live without him.” She finally managed to reply. “So I had to.” She felt a shiver run through her body and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “I had to. There was no other way out. They were going to kill us.” She let her eyes flick open, the scene still too vivid in her mind. “I should’ve seen it, though. I - they -” she let her hand settle next to Ariana’s, “they’ve done this our whole lives. They made us who they wanted. Not even - I mean, of course with hunting, but I think - Ri said, implied, whatever - with everything?” She shook her head, her hair spilling over her shoulders. It felt heavy, and she dropped the edge of the blanket in favor of playing with her hair. “I - thank you. I really - this means more than I can say. I did what I had to do. What I needed to do. I was born to protect from threats, and they were that. I - I guess.” She cleared her throat. “Would - do you need to sleep? I don’t want to put you out anymore than I already have.” She wanted to hug her, she found herself realizing. She often flinched away from hugs, the only ones she really gave were superficial, more for putting on a front than anything else. She adjusted her body, shifting so that she wasn’t facing away quite as much as she had been before. Open if Ariana wanted to hug her, but she wouldn't force anything. Anyone. Not right now, at least. “The tea is just right.” She said, biting her lip.

There was something about seeing Athena like this that tugged at her heartstrings. Ariana had always known Athena to be one of the most incredibly put together people she’d ever met. In so many ways, she seemed untouchable just because of the way she carried herself and she admired that about her. Ariana herself typically wore her heart on her sleeve and was not convincing when she tried to do things any other way. Athena’s current state didn’t change how she saw her in the slightest, it just gave her a new sense of sorrow and showed her just how strong Athena really was. At the indication it was okay to reach out to her and try and provide some comfort, she gave Athena’s shoulder a gentle and reassuring squeeze. “I’m here, okay? Whatever you need, I’m here. And you can stay here as long as you’d like,” she told her and the earnest look on her face conveyed just how much she meant it. Anger rose up within her, but none of it toward Athena. How could her parents want to hurt either her or Rio? Orion had been one of the kindest people she had the pleasure of calling her friend and in the same situation, she would have done whatever was necessary to defend him. “I know you did,” she agreed, “I would have done the same thing.” Maybe she needed to hear it, maybe she didn’t, but Ariana knew killing her parents had to come with some sort of guilt that would be hard to push down. Though it seemed to be stemming from not realizing just who her parents were. “Hey,” she soothed, “They were your parents. Of course you wanted to-- I don’t know, I think it makes sense you wanted to see the good in them, you know? What’s important is you realized they weren’t great before it was too late.” Not that she’d ever met the Quinns’ parents, but she did know she’d much prefer to see Rio and Athena alive over either of them, especially if they were shitty enough to try and kill their own children. At the mention of going back to sleep, Ariana shook her head. “I can stay up for a bit. I’ve been sleeping like shit anyway,” she answered with a shrug. As much had been true. Ever since Sammy died, her dreams had become even more haunted than they had been previously. Her subconscious seemed to love to remind her that she had gotten two people she loved dearly killed. Right now, she opted to give Athena her full attention. “I’m glad,” she responded. Tea wasn’t a cure all by any means, but she’d give Athena any comfort she was able to provide. Her body language seemed to indicate being open to touch so she wrapped her arms loosely around Athena, unsure of any injuries she may have sustained. Her hand gently stroked Athena’s long, blonde hair and she held her there for a moment. “You’re going to get through this, okay? You’re one of the strongest people I know and even though this probably hurts like hell right now, you’re not alone and things are going to get better.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay.” She repeated, as if one time wasn’t enough. As if she had to say everything with greater certainty, because if she said it once it might not be real. It might have been something she just imagined. Athena couldn’t remember a single time in her life when she’d ever felt so uncertain. Not even on the first day of proper school - no, even then she’d marched up to the teacher, told them her name and spelled it out. Grabbed her brother by the hand and made sure he was all settled too. Now, though - now everything felt like it was seconds away from crumbling. She could still smell her mother’s gingerbread. Olfactory hallucinations certainly weren’t a good sign, but even in the midst of everything she understood that everything that was going on was overwhelming and that this was some sort of response to it; perhaps a failed attempt at comfort. A memory that was mostly good, that allowed her to see her family as good and normal. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to eat gingerbread again. Athena also knew that this was the absolute last thing that she should have been focusing on, but everything else was overwhelming and made her head spin. Ariana was grounding, though - she gave Athena something to focus on. “I know. It’s - we have to protect the people we care about, right?” She took in another deep breath. Counted back from ten before she spoke next. “I worshiped them. Their word is as good as divine. That was - well, they implied as much, and church certainly does, too.” Church. Another place where people would be asking questions. She was supposed to teach Sunday School this week. There was too much to focus on and she missed the second half of what Ariana was saying for a moment. “What? Oh - yes. I - I still realized quite late though. I guess it’s just - I’m supposed to know, I should’ve known before. They knew - they hide - hid - well. I should show you our family photos.” She felt her cheeks growing wet. “We look like a picture-perfect All-American family. We were, I thought.” She nodded. “Well, if you need help, a kid I used to babysit used to have nightmares and I know some good ways to get anyone to sleep.” Except myself. “Just not so great at self-application of that, I suppose. You know how Ri used to have to hold me when I was little and woke up from all sorts of nightmares? I - I don’t think of you like a kid, I just mean - well, I know some tips.”

Ariana wrapped her arms around her body and Athena practically felt her whole body relax. Not entirely, but far more than she had been previously. Ariana’s hands through her hair felt exceptionally nice. Gentle, but a firm reminder that they were both there, that Athena had someone who mattered to her and who she mattered to as well. “Okay.” She swallowed, letting her body relax. Willing it to permit relaxation. She was still more tense - more on edge - than she wished to be, but she was safe. Even if her parents were still alive (and they weren’t, she had checked their pulses, she had - she knew they weren’t), they didn’t know about Ariana, and certainly didn’t know where she lived. Which meant she was safe here. “I might need to stay here for a bit. I won’t intrude, and I can cook for you, and clean, and organize, and anything - but I - I don’t - can’t go back home. Not even sure if we’ll be allowed on the property. So - you said I could, right?” She bit her lip and looked up at Ariana. “I’m sorry for talking so much. I haven’t - I think I stopped, for a bit. But now - well, you’ve always been easy to talk to.”

All Ariana wanted was to take some of Athena’s pain away. There was no escaping this pain though, that much she knew. Grief and loss had been something she’d been entirely too familiar with as of late. Guilt even moreso, particularly when it came to Celeste and Ace, but right now was hardly about her. She could surmise some of what Athena was feeling and all she wanted to do was help carry some of it. There was no way of making any of this feel okay, but she could at the very least do what she could to bring her some small sense of comfort and safety in a time that likely felt uncertain and terrifying. Even now, she seemed to carry this better than most would, her strength somehow radiating even at what had to be her lowest point. Athena would get through this, she’d make sure of it in whatever way she could. Maybe she had failed others she loved before, but this she could do. She could be here. She could give her somewhere safe and comfortable to stay until things blew over. There was an air of uncertainty to Athena’s voice when she spoke and she stayed close. “We do,” she agreed, ignoring the own pit in her stomach as the thought of her own failure to protect people she loved. “Rio doesn’t-- He’s so good. You did the right thing, protecting him,” she said as soothingly as possible.

It was easier for Ariana to focus on helping Athena than her own guilt right now. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Even if there were signs, they were your parents. It had to be easy to see them as this all knowing force. You realized what they were before it was too late and you and Rio are both still here and alive.” She was dying to ask how Rio was doing, but it seemed like the worst possible time. She’d text him and Winston later. The story she told of her and Rio as kids would have been endearing had it been under any other circumstance. She didn’t even mind her using the same tactics she used to help with kids’ nightmares. “I didn’t think you thought I was. If it helps, I’d be okay to give it a try. That sounds really, sweet. If you need-- the sofa pulls out into a pretty comfortable bed, but if your own nightmares get bad, we can share mine. I used to share a bed with Celeste a lot, too. So much so that when we finally could afford two, it felt odd to sleep alone.” She looked down momentarily, trying to regather her thoughts before she added, “I just want you to feel safe and comfortable which I know may not be possible with what just happened, but anything at all I can do to help and I’ll do it.”

Ariana held Athena close to her knowing it was one of the few things she could do to help lighten the burden her friend now carried. She could feel some of the tension leaving Athena and held on just a little bit tighter to let her know that she had her through this and neither of them was alone. Maybe she needed this a little bit, too. The guilt of Ace’s death had still weighed heavily on her and she had no one but her idiotic self to blame. At least this, she could get right and Athena didn’t need her saving. Athena could save the day well enough without her, but even the strongest of people needed someone to rely on from time to time. Now was her time and she immediately responded, “Of course, I meant that. You’re always welcome here. You couldn’t possibly intrude. You don’t have to do any of that if you don’t want to, but I know you like cooking. We can take turns, but please don’t feel like you have to do anything. Being here for you is important to me.” Even though she had pulled away now, she gave Athena’s shoulder another gentle squeeze. “You never have to apologize for talking too much. I’ve always enjoyed listening to you and I think talking about things helps. I just want to be here for you in whatever way I can, okay?”

“I had to.” She answered again, still far too simply for the gravity of what had happened. Part of her wanted to tell Ariana everything that had happened, but Athena still couldn’t bring herself to cause her brother any sort of trouble. Even to someone like Ariana, who she knew she could trust implicitly, Athena just couldn’t bring herself to do so. “You - that means a lot.” She willed her breath to even out, to return to its resting rate. Instead of feeling entirely caught in her throat consistently. She knew that she could breathe, because she could talk and she could feel her breath, but it wasn’t anything close to what was normal. Yet the feeling of someone else near her, the feeling of Ariana’s body heat ensuring that she didn’t get too cold. She didn’t often run cold, but right now she couldn’t quite figure out just how she was feeling.

“I know. I-” Athena gulped in another breath of air. “It doesn’t mean that I don’t feel like some sort of idiot. I guess, well - I’ve never not known things, and this is one heck of a thing to not know, even if I can’t be blamed. Everyone wants to see the best in their parents.” She always had - no matter what. Even when there had been a subtle shift after her brother had left her home. Even when there had been signs before, now that she looked back on it. Long-buried nightmares, ones that she’d ignored and passed off for some manifestation of the fear of being killed by the supernatural. Which she’d had, even as a child, but Athena knew that there had been a small part of her that had been afraid of her parents. Being afraid and worshipping them all in one. “It’s handy, having techniques. And good. Because I’d never think of you as a kid. You’re a lot more than that to me.” She looked over to Ariana for a moment, a soft smile crossing her lips. “Sofa bed sounds alright, but I mean - if you want, staying in your bed could be good. I don’t really know how I’m going to sleep. I should be asleep already. It was just - birthday tradition, first of all, and then - well.” She grabbed her phone, looking at the time. “I think maybe the same bed. If you are really sure that you’d be okay with that. I don’t take up too much space, and you’re warm.” She grinned again, her body relaxing. “When I was little, sometimes my brother would have to come into my bed when I had bad dreams. You - well, I’d like that.” She nodded again. It would be good, and though she wasn’t sure she would sleep at all tonight or anytime soon, she did know that having Ariana around was something that made her relax without even having to think twice. “I appreciate that. You. I appreciate you.”

The pressure still felt good, it was still a solid reminder that they were both here, both present and real and safe. Athena sighed again, closing her eyes for a few moments. Willing herself to not see anything but darkness. That was all there was - seeing visions of what had happened weren’t going to do anyone any good. “I’d like to stay here very much, then. I’m not sure if I can go back, legally? I - the police. The police will go and it’s - well, it’s a crime scene.” She brushed her fingers against her nose. “I’d like to cook. I - I’ve been experimenting, and it’s nice. It’s even and logical and helps keep my mind off of things. So I’d be happy to cook. Or buy you take out, if you want.” She didn’t know how much money she had in her wallet, or if anything with her bank account would be frozen, but the offer was one she couldn’t help but mention. As Ariana pulled away, Athena gave her a nod as she squeezed her shoulder. “I think - I might not make a lot of sense, always - with all of this, I mean. But talking is good. Even if it doesn’t always follow my usual logic.” In any other situation, she would have winked at the other girl, but she couldn’t manage all of that just now.

As much as Ariana knew herself that Athena was anything but an idiot, she knew the feeling well. It was hard to not blame yourself in the wake of disaster, to go over every little thing you could have done differently, but hadn’t, that may have led to a different outcome. She’d done it herself with Celeste and Ace almost regularly since they had both died. How was she supposed to tell Athena not to do the same thing? Maybe it was all part of the grieving process, which she should have known by heart at this point, but still, every time it left her reeling. “I think it’s normal to feel that way. I have when… well, a lot of times. Like I should have seen things sooner,” Ariana started as she remembered something Morgan said, “I think maybe thinking of things we could have done differently makes it easier. Makes it feel like we have any sort of control over anything but ourselves. A friend told me that once. It makes sense, but it’s still hard to ignore that feeling. And it’s okay if you can’t. I’m still here, no matter what.”

While she never thought it was an issue, it was still good to hear that Athena didn’t think of her as a kid. Ariana considered them to be good friends at this point though their relationship did perplex her from time to time. Still, Athena wouldn’t be here right now if she hadn’t considered her to be someone she could trust. “I’m glad you don’t,” she answered easily, still staying close to her friend and ready to jump on anything she could possibly need. The sofa bed worked out fine if that's what she preferred, though toward the end of Athena’s statement, it sounded like she wanted to join her. She nodded slowly and assured, “Whatever is most comfortable for you. I’ll sleep just about the same either way.” Although probably even better with her there. Maybe the nightmares wouldn’t be so bad. “I can set it up out here still just in case you get uncomfortable or need some space. I know this stuff is… well, difficult to pinpoint how you’ll feel from one moment to the next.” The story of how Rio used to come sleep with her when she had nightmares did bring a small smile to her face. Celeste had always been a source of comfort for her, too. “Rio is pretty sweet like that, huh? I think maybe it’d help us both with nightmares, but please, don’t hesitate to use the sofa bed if that’s more comfortable for you, okay?” She was quick to add, “I appreciate you, too.”

Ariana hoped she wouldn’t have to turn to Jane for this one and that Athena and Rio could both get away with this without suspicion being cast their way. “That makes sense. The police would have it shut off. I really do mean it, you’re always welcome here, Athena,” she responded in a tone she could only hope was soothing. “You know I’ll never complain about you cooking, but please don’t feel like you have to, okay? I enjoy cooking, too.” The last thing Ariana was for Athena to feel obligated to her in any sort of way. So many had shown her kindness after Celeste and Winn had died. She hadn’t really told anyone about Ace just yet, but she was sure she’d still be met with warm and open arms that she didn’t deserve by too many people. The least she could do was show someone she cared for the same care others had given her. Hell, if even if she hadn’t been through the ringer, she was sure she’d still be willing to help Athena. The honesty they shared with each other was something she valued and Athena had shown on more than one occasion she cared for her as well. If only Ariana had been smart enough to accept her help back then, maybe Ace would still be alive today. That caused a lump to rise in her throat that she quickly swallowed back down. “You never have to worry about that with me. Shit like this is hard to make sense of. Some time to figure things out is normal. Even if your logic is never truly the same, that’s still okay, too.” Somehow, even seeing Athena like this, it felt better to have her here. She’d hardly left her apartment outside of class and work since Ace had died. She’d been avoiding mostly everyone and she hadn’t realized just how lonely that had become. “Come on,” she directed in the most gentle voice possible as she gestured toward the bedroom, “I think we could both probably use some sleep.”

“I’m sorry you ever had to feel this way.” It’s practically unbearable. It was the worst that Athena had ever felt in her entire life. She felt guilty, and she couldn’t remember when she last felt guilt. Not proper guilt, at least. “I guess I’m a bit blinder about some things than I could’ve ever thought. Would’ve ever.” She scrunched up her nose, moving around, doing her best to not start crying again. “It is hard to ignore. Whatever friend you have, they’re wise.” She adjusted her posture again, and took another sip of tea. It was getting colder now, but the flavor was still good, and it was more for the comfort of having something to do more than anything else, though the warmth had been good too. Being cold was uncomfortable, even though she’d lived in Maine her whole life. Like many things, she supposed that it should have been a comfort. She enjoyed the wintertime, but when she became too cold she found it at times to be inescapable.

“Never. You are so much more than that,” she offered a careful smile, “to me. To - well, to anyone I suppose, but especially to me.” It felt easier now, being open. Athena had always done her best to be as honest with Ariana as she possibly could, but with the knowledge that she didn’t have to worry about something getting back to her parents, despite everything else, the conversation felt easier, somehow. “I think that I’d sleep better in your bed.” She reached out, taking Ariana’s hand with her own, rubbing her thumb against the side of her hand. “I doubt I’ll be uncomfortable, but if you want to set something up out here too that’d be alright. I think I’d prefer to sleep knowing that you are right there, though.” She only hoped that she wouldn’t end up waking up screaming. Though Ariana would understand, and hopefully it wouldn't trouble her too much. “It is difficult to pinpoint. I - well, I’ve never had anything like this happen, so I can’t speak from experience, but what you say makes sense.” She gave a nod at Ariana’s mention of her brother. “Always there for me. Which is why I had to be there for him. I think it will do wonders for us both, but I understand. I won’t hesitate to switch things up, but I don’t think that’ll happen.” She nodded at Ariana’s remark, feeling grateful - not that she’d especially doubted her words but the confirmation was especially needed right now.

“Yes. Tape it off, investigate everything.” Would she ever be able to go back? She had so much at her house. She had almost all of her possessions. She couldn’t think about that right now. “Good. Good. I - well, I’m grateful.” Athena wrapped her hair around her fingers. “I don’t. I like cooking, so it doesn’t feel like I have to. You know, we could make some of those spicy green beans. Together.” A part of her wasn’t certain if she deserved Ariana’s kindness, if she was just being selfish in what she wanted. She pressed her hand against her mouth for a moment, a brief moment of panic seizing her. Focus. She could still smell the tea. She could feel Ariana’s legs pressed against hers. She could hear the faint shifting of the apartment. All houses did that, even nice ones. “Yeah. It makes more sense when you say it. I - even if I know that, I can’t bring myself to believe it always.” Right now she could focus on the present moment, she could ignore the world around her and just focus on Ariana. Her brother was safe, he had to be. For now. Her parents couldn’t hurt them. Ariana was alive. Ariana wasn’t going anywhere. “It’s okay if I don’t…” she blinked. “Even - I will…” I will be the same. If she closed her eyes she could see the same vision from her dream all those months ago. That dream with the fae, that dream with the fae and with a younger version of herself and her brother. Tied together, connected, all in their own world. They were like that again now, finally - she hoped. They would have confirmation soon, but right now she didn’t have to focus on that. Right now she could focus on Ariana, on the way her voice was soft and calming. On how soft her gaze was. Athena stood up, moving toward Ariana. “We will be safe here.” Her gaze flicked toward the bedroom. “Just lead the way.”

#wickedswriting #c ariana #chatzy #fix me up #emotional abuse mention #physical abuse mention #panic attack tw #death mention #// bless hannah for this i love her dearly #and ariana is the light of my life

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danetobelieve · 4 years

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Morgue Demolition Derby || Ariana, Cece, Grace, Leah & Winston

When: before the morgue scream Who:@danetobelieve, @thebickedwitchoftherest, @silveraccent, @phoenixleah & @letsbenditlikebennett Where: The Morgue Summary: the dead rise again and five ‘friends’ band together to stop them. Warnings: gore content warning, violence cw, dead bodies cw

Winston was heading out of the morgue. It was the third time that they’d been there since they’d blasted a corpse with Grace and honestly for a while they’d really struggled to make eye contact with her. But time had passed and honestly, Winston was struggling to think about anything other than Roland’s death and the fact that there was nothing that they could do to change it. They weren’t going to mess around with necromancy again, not after the consequences of the last time and they didn’t really know what they were going to do to move on with their life so they just worked. They worked and worked and worked and pretended that everything was normal and worked some more. Except it wasn’t normal. Nothing was normal. Nothing at all was normal anymore. Their phone buzzed and Winston quickened their pace, they’d completely forgotten that they’d agreed to meet Leah outside of the morgue. They were definitely going to be late. Things just slipped their mind now more then they had before.

Leah never considered herself a selfish person, but there was definitely an ulterior motive to her excitement at retrieving her book from Winston at the morgue. There was always something new to learn about White Crest, something lurking in the shadows or right in front of people that deniers didn’t want to see. And in all her time living in the town, the morgue was a place she’d never been. That was a blessing, really, she wasn’t sad that she never had to go to the morgue. But now that she had a chance to even see the inside made her practically jump with excitement. As usual, she arrived a bit too early, but she sent a quick text to Winston to let them know she arrived and there was no rush. She leaned against the building as she waited, thrilled to at least get a peek inside.

All Ariana wanted to do was shake away the now permanent feeling of dread that seemed to live in her. She’d been stuck between keeping herself preoccupied and wanting to sulk away on her couch with Luna and sometimes Blanche. Celeste was dead. Winn was dead. She’d probably worry for Ace until he was a wolf and with her full time. Still, she’d made so many friends here and wanted to maintain those relationships. They were what pushed her most days when things felt hopeless and Grace was becoming a quick friend. Definitely a great neighbor. It’s why she decided against cancelling their dinner plans. She’d pulled up to the morgue and put the car in park. She shot Grace a text, but was surprised to see another familiar face. She hopped out her truck and called out, “Leah?” While she didn’t know the woman well, she had taken care of Layla when she was a cat. “What are you doing here?”

Seeing Winston at the morgue had not only trudged up Grace’s uneasiness, but seeing Cece, too-- it was too close for comfort. A reminder of not only what had happened when she and Winston had been in the morgue those weeks ago, but her conversation at the bar, too. The secrets she was desperately trying to keep from reaching Regan’s ears, and for what? Though, she wasn’t sure that there’d be any point in hiding it… Cece was sure to tell, right? Grace was grateful for the distraction, the appearance of a newfound friend, one that she felt as though she could trust by proxy, thanks to Blanche. She caught the text light up her phone just as she left her office, careful to make sure that the door closed behind her. She waved at Ariana from the door as she left the building, her phone in her hand. She saw Winston heading outside too, and Grace swallowed thickly. She followed them towards the two in the parking lot, only recognizing Ariana. She tossed a glance over her shoulder at Cece’s words, eyebrows pulled together.

Things around work hadn’t been the same. Unsurprisingly, considering the recent deaths in town. A personal one, Winn’s death hadn’t been easy to process, especially when she had been the one running the tests on his body. As for Roland, his death had been hard one everyone. Cece had only had a chance to to talk to him on occasion, had dragged him out with her just once. Cece tried not to get too caught up in mourning. Too much death in her life to give in fully to the grief everytime. But Roland’s death had affected the morgue almost as much as it was hurting the WCPD. Things had been strangely quiet around, and Cece was ready to dip out early for the night. She was walking out of the morgue when she spotted all the people around it. Winston and Grace, the only two people that might actually have any business hanging around a medical office’s building. Then two girls who Cece didn’t recognize. “Wow, who knew this place was so popular with the kids?” Cece asked, glancing between the group, “You all looking for a tour guide or what?”

She’d been playing with her phone when Ariana pulled up, so Leah didn’t notice the other woman’s presence until she called out to her. “Oh hey!”, she said, shoving her phone into her back pocket. “I’m picking something up from Winston”, she explained. Despite not knowing Ariana very well, there was a bit of an ease about being around her. Leah wondered if it was because she definitely was aware of the supernatural. It was inexplicably easier when there weren’t any pretenses to hold up. “Do you know them?” She couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the idea of being called a kid, but she smiled at the new presence all the same. “I’m just waiting for someone”, she said. Although, if she were being honest, the idea of a tour guide for the morgue sounded intriguing right about now.

It seemed to take everything a bit longer to settle in for Winston. Not only did they feel numb to so many of their emotions but in so many ways they felt physically numb too. So they didn’t really notice Grace or Cece or even Ariana until they were right there. Looking up Winston forced a nervous chuckle. “Ha, no not quite, although, maybe we should start offering tours of the morgue as a side hustle or something.” Not very funny. Who wanted to see dead bodies in the morgue. Winston locked eyes with Ariana curiously for a moment before exhaling a long breath. “Ariana is a good friend of mine, but I was actually meeting Leah because she’d borrowed a book off of me and I was here for … y’know work.” Winston forced a brief smile, about to ask Grace why she was meeting Ariana when they heard a grossly familiar noise. What sounded like a lump of flesh wetly landing on the concrete pavement of the street. Turning, Winston was horrified to see that there was indeed a large lump for flesh and it was indeed on the pavement. But it was what was above it that worried Winston. “Oh for fucks sake,” Winston said as they spotted the reanimated corpse … no reanimated corpses that were emerging from the morgue that they had just left, “not again.”

“Maybe we should,” Grace said offhandedly, “maybe if we do, we can charge an entry fee-- it’ll get us better snacks, who knows.” Grace tugged her bag closer to her shoulder before she shifted her attention to Ariana, doing her best to ignore the way that Winston’s nerves were rolling off of them. There was something different, too. She chalked it up to be mourning, however, the telltale signs loud and clear, even for somebody who didn’t have her gift. She cleared her throat in an attempt to dislodge the sudden uneasiness she felt. She glanced over to the woman whose name she now knew as Leah-- an individual she had spoken to online a few times, but nothing more. Grace was about to introduce herself when she froze, the all too familiar sound echoing inside of her head. She had tried to wash herself of the sound with all of the audio she could think of, but it still haunted her. She turned around to look towards the door, just in time to see a corpse fumble their way through the door. “Oh--” she took a step back and grabbed Winston’s shirt sleeve to pull them back, too. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Grace gasped as she stared. It was like that day in the morgue all over again, only worse. There were a few corpses headed their way, their slick hands pressed to the glass in an attempt to leave, two confidently followed after the one that had made their way onto the sidewalk before the small group. “Uh, Winston--?” Grace managed to stutter out.

It was nice running into Leah again. Ariana had been eternally grateful to her for taking care of Layla while she was a cat and she appreciated not having to hide the more wolf-like aspects of her personality. “I do know them, actually, they’re one of my best friends,” she answered and as if on cue, everyone seemed to be walking out. She hadn’t expected to see Winston here, but she gave them a wave. “Winston, wasn’t expecting to see you here. You know Grace,” she asked excitedly, but was quickly caught off guard by a smell. She wrote of the smell of dead bodies as she remembered they were all at the morgue, but she heard something approaching too. She did her best to drown out everyone’s chatter, which was apparently needless as she looked up and saw a bunch… dead looking people walking? “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she mumbled and looked up to the whatever they were and let out a snarl. They didn’t smell great, so resorting to being a wolf to fight them would not be a pleasant experience. That and there were a bunch of people here. “Does anyone know what these are,” she looked between Winston and Leah, “and if you do, will claws work?”

Winston’s heart was hammering in their chest and for the first time in almost two weeks they weren’t immediately thinking about Roland. Then they couldn’t help but think about what Roland’s reanimated corpse would look like. They never really went anywhere without a few gadgets that they could use to protect themselves. Not after everything that had been going on recently. But the enchanted net bomb they’d made would deal with a maximum of one of these things and the smoke bomb and sonic grenade weren’t going to do anything here. “They’re reanimated corpses,” Winston said stepping in front of Grace and taking long deep breaths in an attempt to settle into the serene space that they needed to summon their magic, “it’s a necromancy thing, when you don’t do it properly or you don’t have a sufficient sacrifice then you like end up with these corpses that don’t really have agency but they’re also not evil necessarily, they can be directed at the caster’s will and it’s all … yeah it’s super fucked up.” Winston looked around worried, there were cameras everywhere and it was the middle of the day. There weren’t exactly members of the public here but it was only a matter of time. Winston couldn’t help but wonder what the paper would say about all of this.

Well, this was annoying. Right as Cece was done for the night, these reanimated corpses that Grace had talked about were back at it again. One time could have been a mistake, an amateur necromancer testing their powers and fucking something up. But it was happening again, which implied something darker. This was on purpose, and seeing as how it was happening around the two of them again, it seemed to be pointed as well. That wasn’t a great sign for Winston, Grace or anyone that worked for the morgue. Sucked for these two randoms hanging around the morgue too. “Well, this totally ruined introductions.” Cece sighed and dropped her bag on the ground. That one wasn’t going to be any use to her. “Cece Bishop. Toxicologist, all around fun time. Reanimated corpse specialist. Nice to meet two.” She waved over to the two new faces and then glanced over towards Grace and Winston, “I should be able to make sure that no other cadavers can be brought back from the morgue, but it’ll take some time.”

Leah opened her mouth to simultaneously say something back to Ariana and greet Winston when a sound she hadn’t heard before caught her attention instead. She turned her head to examine the intrusion, taken aback by what she was seeing. To someone who didn’t know better, they might have looked like zombies. But the chatters of those around her confirmed what she already knew- these weren’t really zombies at all, but reanimated corpses. “Shit.”, she said, glancing at Winston for a cue of what to do next. She followed their gaze to the cameras and felt a familiar panic rise in her chest. “I take it you’ve dealt with these before?” she called over to Winston and Grace. At the introduction, Cece she learned, mentioned that she was a specialist on these things. “Leah”, she said with a nod of her head, way too focused on the problem at hand to deal with the pleasantries of a proper introduction. This woman was a specialist on this, apparently. Leah wondered if she’d like to sit down and chat one day, and unknowingly add invaluable knowledge to the Ramirez Scribe Journals. There was no time to worry about that now, though, when there was perfectly good learning material right in front of her. “So, uh… what’s the best way to go about this?”

Grace flinched at the sound of a limb plopping to the ground. She reached out instinctively, ready to pull Winston out of harm's way if it came to that. Ariana’s words weren’t lost on her, but Grace decided that she didn’t have time to focus on it, or to worry about it. She looked to Winston as they mumbled things that Grace, when it had originally happened, she couldn’t quite understand. Now, she felt she knew enough, even if it were surface level. There was a general unease and discomfort that blanketed their little group, as well as a fear that made her skin crawl. “Well, uh--” Grace didn’t want to out Winston for having taken care of them last time, but wouldn’t they be outing them again? She reached out to tug at their shirt sleeve, “Winston?” She peeped out, her gaze never unmoving from the corpses as they continued forward. Cece’s words were supposed to reassure her, and she knew that, but they just made her all the more uncomfortable-- how many times would they have to deal with these? “We should-- we should get back, probably.” Grace said as she dropped her hand from Winston’s shirt and backed up towards Ariana. “They uh, they need to be obliterated,” Grace said in response to Leah in a shaky voice. Not much I can do here, Grace thought. It wasn’t like she could emote them to death, or, rather, out of their existence.

Reanimated corpses. Ariana really hated that and instinctively took a step ahead of the others. She noticed Grace kept close to her and Cece’s introductions were nearly lost on her. Apparently she was a specialist in these things at least. “I’m Ariana,” she responded curtly, “Carpenter and much tougher than I look. So what do I have to do to make these fuckers stay dead?” As they approached closer, instinct kicked in and she let out a low growl. She focused on keeping herself in her more human form and eyed down the corpses that walked toward them. The inclination to fight was kicking in and she asked, “Can I like… punch them away?” Claws and teeth would be easier, but she could throw down MMA style, too, if she had to. She was thankful Celeste had been so insistent she learned how to properly defend herself. Hopefully, that could come into play here.

Winston felt their heart racing. For once they weren’t thinking about everything else that had been going on in their life. For once they were filled with adrenaline and they could focus. Hell fighting reanimated corpses was something that would keep them distracted right? “I’m glad that we all know each other, in case anyone missed it I am Winston, now that we’ve got the introductions out of the way let’s do our best to not die.” Winston flashed a nervous smile and stepped forward. “Yeah so unfortunately we may have run into one earlier….” they looked around, fortunately the street was relatively deserted. “I think you can do whatever you need to do to stop them Ari but maybe” they couldn’t exactly say no biting and out Ariana as not a human, “try not to get any fluids in your eyes or mouth or anything because that’s rotten flesh and it’s probably full of gross bacteria and diseases and fucking … dark magic and shit.” Swallowing, Winston tried to reach the place of serenity they accessed whenever they used their magic. It wasn’t exactly easy but they needed it now. “Cece we can try and keep you free from this,” was Cece a witch too? Winston wasn’t sure how they had missed this but they would definitely need to have a chat about all of this later on, “I normally just do this,” Winston summoned as much magic as they could and blasted it at one of the corpses who took the force straight to their chest and slammed into a lamp post with a fairly explosive force, bits of body flying everywhere as they collided with the lamp post. “Whatever works though.”

Cece was totally lying. If she was an expert on necromancy and corpses she might as well also be the queen of Whales. Why not pile on the fibs while she was at it. But she had dealt with the undead before, and more than just the normal undead like vampires and zombies. A former member of the coven and current inmate of some jail not far enough away from Maine had dealt almost exclusively in necromancy. She had been absolutely nuts, hanging around cemeteries and watching funerals only to reanimate them after and send them off just to fuck with people. As far as that joke had gone, she had really overplayed it. It had only been funny like the first two times at most. The child was pretty fiery, offering to punch the undead, and Winston manifested their magic physically like Captain Marvel and shot it off. Impressive bunch. “As far as the undead go, they’re not exactly indestructible. They’re rotting away, it’s only because of the magic that their body can even stay upright. But it’s like a jenga tower, it doesn't take much to knock them down. Keeping them down is another thing, if the necromancer is good they can effectively piece them back together.” Cece had seen it before. Between Winston and Ariana, which both looked ready to pick a fight with the corpses stumbling their way, Cece figured she could be better used on the inside. “Good idea. Kick their asses and all that. I can make sure that whoever is doing this isn’t able to steal corpses from the morgue again. I just need to set some stuff up inside the morgue.”

They need to be obliterated. Ugh. Leah chanced a glanced once again at the cameras that seemed to surround them, watching their every move. She faced a tough decision: Try hand to hand combat, admittedly something that she was never good at (she should have taken Nell up on those lessons) with a bunch of corpses and risk an embarrassingly easy bone break, or risk extreme exposure to not only all of these strangers here, but to the cameras as well, and just set all of the corpses on fire. The second option would be decidedly more fun, but she wasn’t sure it was the right choice, not quite yet. “So do these assholes feel pain?” she asked to no one in particular, eyeing one that was getting dangerously close to her. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Winston blasted one of the corpses back, their magic as impressive as ever. For her part, she squared up, giving the corpse closest to her a swift kick in the gut. She stared triumphantly as it seemed to stumble, but the pride lasted only momentarily. Although sluggishly, it began to right itself without a second thought, clearly unphased by her badass kick. “Uhh...Winston? Do you happen to know if our new friends here are...flammable?”

Grace hadn’t missed the way that Winston had warned Ariana against getting any of the corpses’ fluids in her mouth. Why would that have been an issue? Grace’s gaze flickered between the corpses, to the group. She had seen what Winston was capable of, but that had been one. They were now faced with multiple upright corpses, and Grace felt the nerves begin to lodge themselves into her skin. Winston threw the same force that they had done previously and she winced. She hated the sound it made when it hit the ground, it had haunted her dreams, but it was better than seeing them tear the faces off of her friends, or whatever it was they were on a mission to do. The nerves from the group were running high, and all of it was rubbing off on Grace. There was agitation, too-- determination, maybe. Grace cleared her throat as she looked at Leah, eyebrows pulled together, “They should be-- they’re--” She looked at them, they were clothed. “Do you have molotovs or something?” Was she suddenly in a video game? Grace took a step back so that she was closer to Cece.

Sweat glistened on Winston’s forehead and they glanced around them as more corpses shambled towards them in a mess of attention that Winston didn’t want to be dealing with now. But they didn’t really have any choice. “I’ll do something about the cameras,” they muttered as they reached out with their mind, the eye on their hand itched and for a second their vision was clouded with a kaleidoscope of pictures, most of them of a rag tag group of …. Well supernaturals who were fighting the undead. Winston knew that they were looking at themselves and it didn’t take them long to get the cameras to point the other way and erase their own footage. “We should be safe to … really let loose if we wanted to…” they didn’t know if Leah or Ariana really wanted to do that, but better safe then sorry, “as for flammable, they’re about as flammable as a human, but I could probably try and do something about that if there was more of a fuel source available.” But short of siphoning petrol from a car Winston didn’t exactly have a good suggestion as to how to do that.

Offer to eat a squid monster one time and have to hear about it every battle that followed. Sounded about right. If it had just been Winston and Ariana, she would have already turned this into a dead dude buffet. “Hmph,” she pouted. She ate a venomous vampire and nothing bad happened besides a bit of a stomach ache, “I still think it would work.” Maybe he hadn’t totally given her away, but she wasn’t all that interested in concealing her identity, especially considering the hoards of reanimated corpses. With the confirmation she could in fact fight the corpses, she charged forward with fists ready to do some damage. She grabbed the first one who approached her by their very brittle shoulder and slammed it into the building causing it to fall apart. She was kick to kick the body parts far away from each other as if it could help the change of reanimation. Another came toward her and she growled at it as she raised her fist to throw in a hard punch. The thing seemed to collapse and her instinct was to kick and punch until these things stopped coming.

“Did you just fuck with those cameras?” Cece questioned, glancing over at Winston curiously before breaking into a grin, “Sick. That’s impressive.” As far as physical combat went, Cece was not completely useless. She knew enough, and Tanner had taught her a bit with the coven while they planned to get away. But she was far from slaughtering an undead army. Winston was right, unless these bodies were completely destroyed they would just keep getting back up. Unless they were cut off at the head. If Cece could create a ward around the autopsy room, this necromancer’s entire power source would be cut off. Wouldn’t save the dead bodies out here, but they couldn’t get anymore at least. It was a start. “Well, while you all are Teen Titaning your way through these, maybe you could clear me a path to the morgue? I’d really appreciate not getting gnawed on by someone who’s urine I’ve tested. That would piss me off.” Cece let the joke marinate for a moment before glancing around, “Piss. Like urine. Get it?” She laughed to herself before trying to focus back on the task at hand.

“Back up!” Leah warned the corpse, who, understandably, didn’t listen. Thank god for Winston for blocking those camera’s, because she could tell that trying to be modest with these things would be the quickest way to keep this group, and the rest of White Crest, in danger. “I’ll figure it out!” she yelled back at Winston, giving them a quick thumbs up. She gave the one in front of her another kick to the gut, watching in satisfaction as it fell backwards. If the corpses themselves weren’t flammable without fuel, their clothes would certainly be easier to set on fire. It wouldn’t slow them down nearly as much, but it was a start, right? She set her gaze on the disoriented corpse’s shirt, causing the heat of the fabric to rise higher and higher, until… “Oh, how convenient, this one’s clothes just randomly set on fire!” she called, giving it another kick to the gut for good measure, ignoring the flames. She grabbed one by the hair that seemed to be making it’s way toward Cece, pulling it back with all her might. The gesture made it tumble on top of the one she had previously been fighting, and she grinned at success. “Nice”, she said to Cece, though she couldn’t find time to laugh at the pun in this particular moment.

Grace braced herself for the sound of the flesh hitting the ground once more. It made her stomach turn in on itself. She hated the way it sounded like liquid. Grace knew that when it had happened before, Winston had taken care of the cameras, no sweat. She was grateful that they had the same kind of thinking now. They were in a bigger group, and she knew there wasn’t much she could do. It wasn’t like she could emote the corpses back to the grave. In fact, she couldn’t feel anything from them. It made sense, though. They weren’t alive, they were just… beings, walking forward, moving because that’s what they were being told to do. Grace blanched at the sight of the corpses as they began to ignite in flames. How was that possible? She swiveled her gaze between the group, suddenly feeling out of place. Grace backed up slightly, away from the majority of the group, but close enough so that she could still reach out and drag one of them away if it were needed. “Cece,” Grace groaned as she realized the woman’s joke. “Come on.”

There were so many of these corpses that Ariana wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up. Especially when they kept rising from the ground shortly after she knocked them out. Her fists and feet could barely move fast enough, but hope was found when Cece was asking for a path to be clear. With a nod that strengthened her resolve, she said, “Clear a path, you got it.” She quickly darted toward the corpses that were blocking Cece’s path and began kicking them into pieces as quickly as she could. The smell of smoke filled her nose and her head whipped around. She raised an eyebrow at Leah’s remark on the fire. She was pretty sure that wasn’t how things worked, but she wasn’t about to push it in the middle of a fight. The brief lack of focus led to a corpse grabbing her by the shoulders. She was quick to grab its arm and flip them over her shoulder. The body parts quickly came apart and she went back to fighting more to clear out a solid path for Cece.

Working on the cameras, blasting things with magic, the exertion of magic was something that Winston was never going to get used to. Sweat poured down their back as they worked. It wasn’t as if there was a lot of flammable liquid around them, but there was a petrol tank full of it in their car which was parked at the other end of the lot and although they had never siphoned fuel before Winston was pretty sure that the theory was simple enough. Working an engine to get it to spit fuel out however was less easy. “Keep them busy and I’ll make them more … flammable.” At least Leah didn’t seem to mind too much. Winston reached into the mechanisms of the car once more, sincerely hoping that this worked because they’d never tried technomancy on a car before, churning it’s cogs they managed to force the petrol out of the car the way that it came in, it hit the fuel cap which pinged open with a splash and Winston managed to catch most of the fuel before dousing a good number of the undead bodies with them. “Leah, if you’d please do … the … honours,” their eyelids felt heavy, their limbs like they were packed with lead, “that should clear the way.”

If there was anything that Cece specialized in after alchemy, it was warding. It had been a skill learned more through necessity than personal interest. While chemistry had been something Cece had enjoyed her entire life that naturally lead into a talent for alchemy, warding had been something that Cece had begun studying only after she was planning her escape from the coven. She knew she’d need protection and ways to stop them from tracking her. As it turned out, warding had more use than Cece had originally given it credit for at the age of twenty. Six years may not have been that long in the grand scheme of things, but it was like night and day compared to the life Cece had lived before getting to White Crest. With the help of some surprisingly violent children, Cece slipped through the crowds of undead and got to the morgue. She got to work quickly, ignoring the bodies for the most part and assuming that the rest of the group would be able to keep them at bay. Her purse had turned into a mini supernatural pharmacy, more and more things being added to it as she realized that it may come in handy in a bind. A ward against necromancy wasn’t difficult, especially since she already had such a ready supply of rotting flesh and magic used to revive the dead. The end result was a dark ashen powder, that Cece sprinkled around the doorways into the Morgue and mumbled a spell against it while glancing over at the rest of the group. Was Winston spraying gas at those corpses? Sick. Cece flicked her lighter and pressed the flame against the powder on the ground. As it caught, the fire changed from it’s red and orange color to a sickly green, racing across the ash and glowing there for a minute as it slowly burned away at the powder. The fire finally died once the ash had completely burned away and Cece turned towards the group and gave a thumbs up before yelling over, “Should be good on my side! No more Corpse brides coming out of this building. Just got to wrap up here!”

“You’re a rockstar, Winston, I’m buying you lunch after this”, Leah shouted to them between breaths. Everything seemed to be happening all at once, but she couldn’t focus on anything too long. She had a job to do here, they all did. If these things managed to get past them all unharmed, most citizens of White Crest would love their mind. Thanks to Winston, she wouldn’t have to just focus on the clothes now, but the reanimated corpses themselves. It would make things a lot quicker.. She took a step back, choosing to stand behind Ariana so she could focus as she did her work. One by one, she focused on the corpses, raising their body temperature enough that, thanks to Winton’s quick thinking with the gas, caused them to seemingly spontaneously combust. It was intoxicating to see all of them lit up, and she had to actively stop herself before she got carried away. With their bodies being so weak, most of their heads just tumbled right off after being ablaze for barely a minute. The rest, the group took care of rather easily. After the okay from Cece, Leah finally turned her attention away from the corpses, who at this point where all re-dead and burnt to a crisp anyway. She let out a heavy breath, looking between the group. “Thank Fate you all were here to take care of that…”, she said, ignoring any part she had to play in it. Hopefully everyone would just assume that whatever ward Cece had put up had somehow affected the corpses as well. “I don’t suppose this victory means I get to see the inside of the morgue after all?”

The scene that unfolded before Grace was a violent one. She watched as Ariana ran forward, her tiny fists bludgeoning the corpses to death. She opened her mouth to tell her to come back, but she closed it shortly thereafter, noticing the way that the tiny girl took them down with ease. How could that be possible? She looked down at her own two hands, but was interrupted by the smell of gasoline. She whipped her head around to watch as Winston worked on spraying the corpses down with the liquid, and then as Cece bolted towards the morgue. She wanted to yell for people to stop, but she had to trust them, that they knew what they were doing. Before she could think of much else, the corpses were lit, the smell of burning flesh and gasoline curling around Grace’s nose, making her stomach turn over. She watched in horror as the bodies sank to the ground, melting into the asphalt. She stared wide-eyed, unable to move. White Crest certainly was no normal setting, that much was for certain. “Holy shit.” Grace muttered under her breath as she blinked at Cece who was working on something at the doors of the morgue. Even if she wanted to, Grace wasn’t certain she’d be able to completely understand what had just happened.

Everything happened all at once and frankly Winston was pretty fucking exhausted after the amount of magic that they had been forced to use. They might have been able to get a hold of the technomancy stuff early on, but the truth was that they were still very new to everything and they were still working on a lot. It wasn’t something that was going to be easy but they couldn’t help but feel a little drained from it all when they were using the magic. Sweating gently, Winston gasped for air. “Why the fuck does this keep happening?” Winston asked, “I would love for us to all stay and chat but I think that we should seriously think about getting out of here before anyone else turns up. I don’t want anyone to get found … out.” They didn’t wait for the reply, heading towards their car. “If anyone needs a ride you’re obviously … you’re welcome y’know.”

#wickedswriting #para #p: grace #p: ariana #p: leah #p: cece #chatzy #chatzy para #morgue demolition derby

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cryxmercy · 4 years

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All That Glitters || Mercy, Ariana, & Mina {PotW}

Who: Mercy, Ariana, and Mina @letsbenditlikebennett @drowningisinevitable Where: Dark Score Lake, late evening When: A week or so before the last full moon, during the nightmares PotW.

Ariana and Mina help Mercy search for her spear along the shores of Dark Score Lake. They find a bit more than they bargained for.

TW: violence, blood (non-medical), injury, animal injury, mentions of drowning, assault

Mercy paced the shoreline, eyes focused on the still, black water of Dark Score Lake. Somewhere beneath that eerily still surface, or along the foggy banks that disappeared into the distance, her spear waited to be found. A spear unlike any other. One gifted to her by her maker, and stolen from Mercy countless times over the centuries. A weapon that had always found its way back to her in the end. But now, despite the near desperate need to have it returned to her once more, Mercy couldn’t make herself enter the water again. Not now. Not yet. Not after-

Not after what had happened.

She’d tried. Once. A few days before. But something had moved beneath the surface and Mercy had found herself shuddering and breathless on the bank, feeling as if her throat were closing up, as if the dark were closing in around her… even though she knew it wasn’t. Damn this place. Damn that fucking demon. Damn it to the deepest hell that existed. And damn herself. For being a coward.

So Mercy had enlisted help this time. Help that should be arriving soon.

Part of Ariana knew going anywhere near that cursed lake was probably a bad idea, but if she could help someone, it seemed worthwhile. Her own life seemed in such a state of disarray that the prospect of making someone else feel better was welcomed. As she made her way to the lake, the clouds of fog seemed to be getting thicker. She had to admit, this whole creepy horror movie fog effect was getting old real fast. The same strange charm of the town that had made her so dead set on staying seemed not so charming anymore. For everything this town gave her, it seemed eager to take just as much away.

The closer she got to the shore, the more apparent it became that the water was an inky black again. Wasn’t Squidward supposed to be dead now? God, she hoped that ugly fucker didn’t lay eggs or something. Did squid even lay eggs? She had no clue. Paying attention in class hadn’t been something she was at all notorious for.

She made out the form of a woman by the lake and waved. “Hey,” she called out hoping uneasiness wasn’t apparent in her tone, “I think I’m supposed to be helping you find something?”

Before she left her house, Mina stared at herself in the mirror and repeated a quiet mantra of “Don’t be weird. Don’t cry. Don’t get scaly.” over and over again until she finally felt safe enough to leave the house. Maybe, she kept telling herself, she wouldn’t even need to get in the water, and could just provide moral support to the lady that lost her thing. Or, maybe, if she did have to go in, the fog would keep Mina covered. It clinged to her, as she walked through the woods and to the shoreline. She looked into the water, unable to see into its depths. One way or the other, she’d probably be back in it later. Unnerving and terrible? Sure, but a part of her still called it home.

It was still warm out, but she slipped on a hoodie all the same over an old wetsuit shirt. The sleeves would, at the very least, keep her arms covered. She didn’t quite know where they were supposed to meet, so she just set off walking, looking for people in the fog.

Eventually, Mina squinted a bit as she caught sight of a woman standing on the beach. Mina gave a tentative way, before she noticed another person walking up as well. “Ariana?” she asked, a bit confused and more than a little anxious. Ariana actually liked her. They were friends. She’d tutored her in math, and she was just a normal, down to earth girl. She couldn’t-- Mina didn’t want Ariana to know what she was, to look at her differently. “What are you-- Hi?” She looked at the other woman with them. “And, ah, hi.”

Mercy was grateful for the two people that were coming to help. It was a big thing to ask, at least to anyone that knew what had happened in this very spot only a few months ago. Mercy didn’t know how far the information had gone. She didn’t know who knew who, or who had found out through other means. Either way, the demon squid that had once inhabited Dark Score was gone. Mercy knew it was. But that didn’t explain the inky blackness of the water, or the way Mercy’s skin crawled as she looked out across the still surface.

But she stood her ground, using all her willpower not to let her fear get the better of her. When a voice called out, Mercy turned to see the newcomer. She raised a hand in greeting. “Hey.” Mercy gave the young girl a smile. “And yeah. I’m Mercy. I’m looking for a spear that I lost a few months back.” Another voice called out from the opposite direction, but addressed the young woman first. “Ariana,” Mercy noted, giving her a nod. “You must be Mina then,” she said to the young woman in the wetsuit and hoodie. “I’m Mercy.”

She looked at them both in turn. “You know each other?” That was good though. Right? “I really appreciate you helping me.” After introductions, Mercy gave them the run down on what they were looking for (a description of the rune-inscribed spear) and then asked what they thought would be the best course of action to cover as much ground as possible. “I’m open to any ideas,” she said. “I had thought maybe checking the shoreline around this area first might work?”

Ariana was surprised when she smelled Mina approaching them. She hadn’t sure who all would be helping with this whole search party thing, but she was happy it would be Mina. “Hey,” she greeted enthusiastically, “It’s good to see you again. Mostly just figured I could help, you know?” It seemed Mina was a little hesitant about seeing her which made her frown slightly. That definitely wasn’t the norm, but there had to be something else going on. She couldn’t think of anything she’d possibly done to upset Mina.

She didn’t think too much on that and listened as Mercy explained what they’d be retrieving. A spear with runic markings. It sounded pretty badass if she was being honest which she usually was. Though the mention of it being down there for months was a bit discouraging. “Months? That may be a bit trickier to sni-- I mean, scope out then. We can start with looking along the shoreline though.”

She began wading along the shoreline and looking below the surface to see if she could spot anything. Considering what used to live in this lake, she was on high alert for anything that smelled or sounded out of the ordinary.

“It was nice of you to offer to help,” Mina told Ariana with a slight smile, unable to think of what else to say. “And certainly something I shouldn’t be surprised you’d do, either.” This town was far too small. And now, here she was, possibly going to risk exposing herself to someone she saw as a friend. Close to a friend. Could she be friends with someone she had really only been around in a teaching capacity? She thought so. She hoped so. She didn’t want Ariana to know what she was, though. And the chances of that happening were… highly likely. She’d need to really control herself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mercy,” Mina said to the older woman, trying to keep her smile and a happier disposition. She could do that. She could try. “Checking the shoreline could work, certainly. It went in the water around this part of the like, right?” The spear sounded old. She wondered what this woman was doing out here with an old spear on a strange, likely cursed lake.

A lake that Mina called home… “If it’s been that long and it washed up, someone could have taken it, you know. But, ah, if we don’t see it, I’m a pretty good swimmer and can go out and look, if you’d like.” She joined in searching along the beach, hands in her hoodie as she walked, careful with where she walked.

It took Mercy just a moment to realize that the two young women knew each other. Good. Maybe that would make this impromptu search party go smoothly. “Yeah. I lost it about the time all those strange lights started appearing around town.” Mercy knew exactly what the lights had been. She’d been the literal fuel that had powered one of them. The one that had sent Squidward back to his own damn dimension. After she’d put her spear through it’s eye. “And I know it might be a lost cause…” Mercy glanced out at the water. “But I have to try.” She had another monster to kill, after all.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mina,” Mercy said to the second young woman. “And yeah… right here actually.” She made a sweeping gesture along the shoreline in front of them. This had been the spot where Rebecca had performed her spell. And where she and Nic had- Mercy swallowed. No. Best not to think about that now. Later, when she had her weapon back, she might feel less… afraid. “I know that too,” Mercy said, her tone one of resignation, though she gave Mina a smile. “Hopefully that’s not the case.” Mercy nodded at Mina’s offer to swim further out into the lake. Perhaps it wouldn’t come to that. It was dangerous out there. But the girl was of her own mind, so Mercy wouldn’t stop her. The spear was important. Not just to Mercy, but for other reasons as well. Reasons that could very well save lives. Mercy joined in the search, unable to help the flutter of her heart as the black water lapped against her boots. More than once, something splashed out in the water, in the fog, but it was too distant for her to see. It sounded small, like a fish jumping for insects, so Mercy tried not to worry too much.

They came to an area where a huge pile of driftwood had been washed up onto the beach. It seemed sturdy enough, and was rather tall, so Mercy told the others she was going to climb up and have a look from there. Perhaps she’d see something.

“Likewise,” Ariana said brightly though it came as no surprise to her that Mina offered to help. Mina was just nice like, she knew from personal experience. She knew she definitely wouldn’t have passed math without Mina’s patience and help along the way. This was surely more dangerous than anything math tutoring could bring up. Even the weird squirrels in the library hadn’t been too much of a danger though one did leave a small scar on her hand. She knew this lake to be dangerous, so she’d be on high alert. “Let’s start looking then, hopefully no swimming out is necessary.”

As she waded along the shoreline, uneasiness reached her as she realized the water was an inky black again. That decidedly wasn’t a sign of anything good. She even noticed the way Mercys heartbeat seemed to fluctuate as they neared the water though she wouldn’t dare point as much out. Most people didn’t have hearing as sensitive as hers. She looked carefully beneath the surface and avoided letting the moonlight hit her eyes. While she wasn’t sure how much Mina knew, she’d rather tell her than have her find out about the werewolf thing as some sort of accident.

It was hard to see anything beneath the murky water, but she carefully felt out the ground beneath her with each step. It smelled almost like the ocean in a way which was not the most promising sign, but she didn’t hear anything approaching so she kept scanning below the surface. As she bent down to look a little more closely at something that may have been a spear, she felt something grab her ankle. She jumped, claws instinctively coming out and let out a small gasp. “What the fuck,” she muttered to herself. She did her best to keep the claws hidden and ignore the pain that came with only a slight transformation. She squinted looking down at the water, but couldn’t see anything. “Must have been a fish or something. Sorry,” she explained.

While she had been hanging back, Mina came a bit closer to the water as Ariana bent down. She didn’t like this, not one bit. It was safe for her to be out here. She belonged here in the lake, even if she hadn’t been in White Crest her entire life. Even if it did occasionally freak her out. Even if she did think, a lot of the time, that she really needed to find a new body of water, one that wasn’t liable to kill her.

Mercy went one way, towards a pile of driftwood, while Ariana continued in the other direction, staying close to the water. Mina was torn on what to do, simultaneously wanting to make sure that Ariana didn’t get hurt while also staying with Mercy since this was her job. “This was a terrible idea,” she muttered, before calling out to Mercy, “Is that such a good idea?” Though, it wasn’t like Mina could do anything to stop the older woman. The structure looked precarious, though, and Mina could be quite clumsy on land, especially climbing things. With a sense of unease, she moved closer to where Ariana was.

When Ariana jumped, Mina instinctively jumped back as well, tripping a bit before she flailed her arms a bit to right herself. “What?!” She felt a bit embarrassed, afterward, not even paying attention to the younger girl as she attempted to calm down. Her dad had always been right about her. She was far too jumpy. “Right, a fish. Right.” But she stepped a bit closer anyway, also peering into the water, keeping her sleeves pulled down over her hands to hide the scales that were already forming. Not that it mattered because as soon as she leaned down to try and see if it was truly a fish or not, a tentacle shot out of the water, wrapping itself around Mina’s wrist and dragging her down. All she could do was let out a yelp. She really needed to find a new body of water.

“Hopefully not,” Mercy agreed when it came to swimming out. She hadn’t come prepared for that. But she could shirk her boots and jacket and dive down if needed. Though the thought left a bad taste in her mouth. Mercy shook it off as best she could, determined not to be a coward. It was just a lake. The demon squid was gone. There was nothing in there but the usual dangerous lake critters. No eldritch horrors tonight.

She’d just started to ascend the driftwood pile when Mina called out. “I’ll be careful,” Mercy called back. “Seems pretty sturdy. It’s packed in tight.” Carefully and methodically, she climbed towards the apex of the mound of dead trees. When Ariana cried out, Mercy immediately straightened and turned back. “Alright?” she called, peering through the moonlit darkness at the others still down on the shoreline. When they called out that it had just been a fish, Mercy nodded. But her eyes scanned the shoreline for a few long, tense moments. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. Control your heart rate. Control your fear. This is nothing. This is child’s play compared to what you’ve endured before. This is-

But as Mercy watched, the worst thing imaginable happened. Something long and dark broke the surface of the water with a crack of sound, and snagged Mina by the wrist, already pulling her down. Mercy didn’t hesitate. “Ariana!” she shouted as she leapt back down the driftwood pile. FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCKK- “Grab her!” And then she was running over the sandy shoreline towards the girls, reaching for the weapon tucked beneath the back of her jacket to sever the tentacle before it could take Mina. But Mercy never had a chance. Not when a second tentacle shot from the water and wrapped around her ankle, tightening like a vice before dragging her swiftly towards the cold, black water.

While Ariana was entirely sure what the purpose of climbing atop the wood was, she wasn’t about to question it. It looked sturdy enough and would give her a better line of sight though she noted it did seem impossible given the murky, black water. “All good,” she answered before she saw the tentacle plunging out of the water and straight toward Mina. “Shit,” she yelled out as she realized Squidward definitely had babies or something. There wasn’t time to contemplate just how much she hated that. Instinct clicked in fast and claws emerged painfully from her fingertips.

“Get off of her,” she snarled as she sunk her claws into the tentacles on Mina’s wrist. Her eyes were definitely catching the light of the moon and her teeth were larger now. She definitely didn’t look as Mina knew her with tufts of brownish-gray fur formed baby hairs around her face. The tentacle squirmed in her hands and she dug her claws in deeper as she tried to pull it away. While it no longer had a solid grasp on Mina, more tentacles were emerging. Shit shit shit. That spear would be really fucking useful right about now. She let out an intimidating growl though it was unknown whether or not Squidward Jr. could hear her. Any bit of leverage she could get without letting herself shift into a full wolf would be preferred.

One tentacle had found its way around her ankle and she found herself stumbling forward into the water. She kicked and pushed to get the tentacle off her ankle, but it only seemed to tighten its grip.

This was going far more poorly than Mina had expected, and, lately, she expected almost everything to go poorly. Her arms had broken out into scales the minute they’d touched the water, her hands becoming webbed and her fingertips growing claws. Though, she’d barely had a chance to use them as someone else’s clawed hand sunk into the tentacle around her arm, a hand far different than her own. Where she had scales, this person had fur, and she looked up to see Ariana, tiny, fierce Ariana, with fur and claws and a savage growl coming out of her mouth. Yes, this was going, as they say, to shit.

Using her own claws, Mina fought the loosening tentacle off of her and began going after a few of the others that kept emerging and going for Ariana. “Get back to the shore!” Mina told the smaller girl. She felt panicked as she watched Mercy getting dragged through the water by a tentacle. She couldn’t save both of them, not from this thing with its multitude of tentacles that was still inhabiting her lake. One of the tentacles grabbed her hood and dragged her under, causing gills to flare up on her neck so that she could breathe. With clumsy, clawed fingers, she unzipped the hoodie and allowed it to be pulled off and dragged in the depths. While her head was underwater, she looked to see if she could find the source of the tentacles, but she just… couldn’t. They just disappeared into the depths, never ending.

Mina surfaced the water fighting, once again lashing out with her claws. There’d been a knife in her hoodie’s front pocket, but it was lost to the depths, now. Didn’t matter. “Get to the shore or we need to get to Mercy before she goes under. And she does,” Mina looked at her scales compared to Ariana’s fur. “If she does, get to the shore. She can’t be helped if you’re drowning.” Please don’t argue with me, Mina tried to say with her eyes as she glanced at Ariana in the midst of the tentacle swarm.

Mercy was yanked off her feet and dragged bodily towards the water. She kicked and struggled at the tentacle wrapped like a vice around her ankle, but it only tightened it’s hold. There was a knife in her boot, but the creatures’ grip made it impossible to get to. FUCK. It wasn’t - or didn’t seem - nearly as large as the one she’d encountered before, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t kill them. At that thought, Mercy tried to catch a glimpse of the others. Of Ariana and Mina who had been so kind, so willing to help Mercy find what she needed. And now this fucking thing was after them too. But it seemed as if Ariana was already coming to Mina’s aide. There was the sound of… something like a growl… and Mercy could’ve sworn she saw a flash of silver eyes, but she couldn’t be sure. She was in the water now, and more and more dark, slippery tentacles were emerging from the depths, waving and whipping about in the dark, trying to grab the others even as they struggled against them.

She tried to cry out to Mina, to warn her as one of the appendages reached towards her, but Mercy was too late. Her mouth filled with water, and she barely had time to hold her breath before she was dragged beneath the surface of the now churning lake.

The sudden quiet was unnerving. Mercy could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and somewhere far away she could hear voices yelling over the chaos of the creature that had crawled from the depths to devour them. It took all her strength and willpower not to panic. This wasn’t like last time. She wasn’t going to drown here, in this black abyss, like some weak-willed coward. She wasn’t going to let it have her. Not again. When Mercy reached for the short-bladed sword at her back, this time her hand found the hilt. She pulled it free, and after laying the flat of the blade against her boot, beneath the wrap of the tentacle that was dragging her further and further down, she pulled up, hard and swift. The tentacle severed, and Mercy was free. The water trembled as a sound echoed from the deep. The water was full of black ichor and silt, and Mercy couldn’t see a thing. She kicked hard for the surface, her lungs burning for air.

Everything deteriorated into chaos before Ariana could get a full grasp on the situation. She had to keep her emotions at bay so the wolf didn’t completely take over. Her eyes widened as she noticed the scales on Mina’s skin and the claws on her hand. They widened even more as Mercy got dragged in as well. She reached down toward her own ankle and sunk her claws deep into the tentacle that had a hold on her and kept a close eye for any new upcoming ones as she got herself free from grasp. She took a leap back in hopes that it would keep her from being grabbed at again.

“Get out,” she questioned, “But I can help with--” The scales were more apparent now though everything in her was screaming to help. Mercy had already been pulled under. Maybe given Mina’s clear affinity for the water, it’d be easier if she got out. “Okay, but if I see you go under, I’m jumping back into help.”

She backed up toward the shoreline, not taking her eyes off Mina. If anything shifted, she wanted to be able to dive back in and help. There was still so much splashing from the squid that it was difficult for her to keep a good eye on what was happening. Her claws were still out and throbbing on her fingertips. The imminent danger making it near impossible to relax enough to shift back fully to her more human looking self.

“I know you can,” Mina paused before looking back to where Mercy’s head disappeared under the water before immediately jerking back to look at Ariana. She didn’t quite know how to convey that, if anything, going under would be the least of her worries. And she would have to, if she was going to make sure that Mercy was alright. “Stay safe. Please.”

Mina leapt forward towards the mass of tentacles, diving into the water. The goal now was no longer to fight this creature, though she feared she might have to, but to instead just make sure Mercy got out of the water as quickly as possible before Ariana decided to dive in. If they could all just make it out of this relatively unscathed, that would be nice. What was a bloody spear when lives were on the line? If she had to, she’d come back and look for it by herself and get it back to Mercy that way. The last thing she wanted was for more people to get harmed in this lake.

She could barely see, and black blood and silt filled Mina’s gills, making it hard for her to breathe. She couldn’t stay under long. Frantically looking around her, she just made out Mercy’s blonde head swimming to the surface, and Mina went to her, latching her hands under Mercy’s arms and speeding them both upwards. As they broke the surface, Mina gasped out, “It’s me! It’s me!” in case Mercy thought she was something else. She waved to Ariana and began maneuvering them towards the shore. “Now, we need to get out now!” She couldn’t sense the creature, couldn’t see anything lurking around them, but that meant nothing. They needed to get out and away while they could.

Was this real? Or was it something else? She’d dreamt of the lake often enough - and of the dark monster and it’s twisting reaching arms - that the scenario wasn’t unfamiliar to Mercy. How long had she been afraid of coming back here for this very reason? Even though she knew the squid was gone? Too fucking long. And as much as she needed her spear - not want at this point, but a very real and desperate need - to kill another monster, another creature from her nightmares, she had never wanted to risk the lives of innocents. She never would have if she’d known this monster was here. She would’ve found another way. Because there was always another way.

But as the water shook with the creature’s fury at the ripping and tearing it was enduring from all three of it’s would-be victims, Mercy could’ve sworn she saw a glint of silver amidst the murk and the mud and the chaos. It was gone in the time it took her to realize she’d seen it, and before Mercy could dive towards it, something had her beneath the arms and they were breaking the surface of the water.

Mercy sucked in a breath, and nearly struck out at whatever had her by the arms, but even half-drowned and slightly disoriented, Mercy heard Mina’s voice. She’d been the one to pull Mercy from the murky water. The Fury was breathing hard, treading water in the slowly calming waves, but she nodded at Mina - who was definitely not human - in a silent ‘thank you’ as they headed towards the relative safety of the shoreline. Ariana was there, and Mercy was relieved to see her too. Once they were all safely ashore, Mercy looked between the two girls. Her jeans were shredded from the calf down on one side, and her leg was bleeding from where the creatures suckers had tore into her flesh. Mercy paid it no mind. She would heal.

“Are you both alright?”

Ariana watched anxiously from the shoreline as Mina dived in for Mercy. Her affinity for the water wasn’t lost on her. Neither were the scales and claws. Surely she’d seen the tufts of fur and the claws that were still protruding from her fingertips. Her instincts were screaming to fight, to dig her teeth into something, especially only partially phased. It was always uncomfortable, but she needed to keep a sharp mind. They were both under the surface momentarily and as Ariana had been ready to jump back in, they emerged.

She let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and focused on relaxing. A few deep breaths in and out and she felt the claws fading back into her body where they belonged for now. Whatever was going on here, she didn’t like it. That squid was supposed to be long dead yet her pants were torn, her waterproof boots looked worse for wear, and her lower legs were all scratched up. The chill of her damp clothes was kicking in now, but she was okay. “I’m fine,” she answered Mercy quickly, “Are you both okay?”

She scanned both of them for any sign of serious injury and they both appeared to be okay which meant her curiosity reigned. Ariana whipped around to face Mina. “You’re not… the scales. We’re both not human. I’ve never seen,” she quickly clamped her mouth shut realizing that maybe Mercy was actually human and this wasn’t the time or place for this.

“I’m not hurt,” Mina said, quickly, doing her best to reassure both of them without getting into nauseating half-truths. She couldn’t handle those right now. As the scales started to recede, she could make out the bruising around her wrist and legs from whatever that thing was. That thing that was still in the water. She looked back over the too still surface of the lake. She was almost fooled. Almost. She knew what lurked out there. She was what lurked out there. Sighing, she wringed out her hair a bit, careful not to pierce herself with her own sharp claws that likely wouldn’t go away until after her heartbeat had returned to normal.

At Ariana’s words, Mina’s eyes widened with panic. It wasn’t that she thought they were going to avoid talking about it. She’d just hoped, rather foolishly, that they would. If they didn’t talk about it, they could just quietly avoid it for forever, and that would be fine. That would really, really preferable, especially since she could guess what the younger girl was, and she didn’t know if she was quite capable with coming to grips that a friend of hers was also someone that, a year ago, she would have helped her father hunt, no matter how she felt. She didn’t know if she could rectify the image of Ariana with the woman with golden eyes that had stood over her and her father’s corpse. “We’ll-- We’ll talk about it. Later. I--” she stuttered over the word. “We will.”

Mina turned back to Mercy, a bit of guilt on her features. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to find your spear,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. Not like… Not with that thing out there. It’s not supposed to be out there.” It was so large, and this wasn’t too far from where she usually swam. She didn’t understand how she could have missed something like that. “I can maybe come back later and look for it, but it’s too dangerous right now.” Maybe, if she went back on her own, she’d be less likely to be attacked, as a creature that belonged in the lake.

Mercy nodded at Ariana, relieved she wasn’t harmed. And when Mina also confirmed she was unhurt, the Fury let out a sigh of relief. But she didn’t miss the glint of scales on Mina’s arms and legs. And when Ariana let the proverbial cat out of the bag, Mercy huffed. Neither of them were human. That explained a lot. It would’ve also been good information to have beforehand. But she understood the girls’ caution. They didn’t know Mercy. She could be a hunter for all they knew. Or just a regular human. So when Ariana realized her mistake, and a look of alarm passed over the young girl’s face, Mercy gave her a reassuring smile. She showed them both the lacerated skin on her leg that started to heal itself as they watched. “That makes three of us.” She pushed her wet hair out of her eyes, still trying to catch her breath. “Secrets safe with me.”

There seemed to be… tension… between Mina and Ariana. Or so Mercy had a sense of. But she didn’t pry. It wasn’t her business. They had both come here to help her find something of great importance, and ended up risking their lives in doing so. And for what? She turned to Mina as the girl spoke, giving her a soft smile. Though there was something like regret in her expression. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I’m grateful for your help. And for your bravery. Both of you. Thank you.” Mercy looked to Ariana as well, before her eyes slid back to the water. Her expression darkened. “No. It’s not supposed to be there. I’ve killed it once already. Or something like it.” Despite its size, Mercy knew this wasn’t the same creature she’d helped Rebecca and Nic banish. “That’s how my spear got lost in the first place.”

She moved to pick up the short sword that had fallen to the ground when Mina pulled her ashore, flinging muck off the blade before wiping it clean on her jeans. “I’m not a Hunter, just so you know.” She looked between the two of them again. Both so young compared to Mercy, but so unbelievably brave. “I’m what’s called a Fury. A Valkyrie, if we’re being specific.” Mercy figured they should know, since they’d risked their lives to help her. “And I owe you both a debt.”

She looked to Mina as the young girl offered to come back later. She was far more at home in the water than Mercy. That much was apparent. “Thank you, but I couldn’t ask you to do that. Not after today.” Mercy didn't mention the flash of silver she’d seen. It could’ve been her eyes playing tricks. Or it could’ve been any number of things besides her spear. Regardless, today had been a close call, and as much as Mercy hated to admit it, and as brave and strong as both Mina and Ariana were, she couldn’t risk anyone else for her personal endeavour. She would have to come back alone, to face the nightmare that waited in the deep on her own terms.

Mercy looked towards the eerily still water once more. Her eyes tracked across it, trying to see anything beyond the fog and the moonlight. But nothing moved. Not a fish. Not a firefly. Not even the wind.

While both Ariana and Mina were obviously not human, there was a certain tension that Mina had that was disheartening. Maybe she didn’t like people knowing what she was. With all the hunters around, she could understand that and she genuinely hoped that no one tried to hurt Mina. The thought alone was enough to make her blood boil. Still, she agreed anyway. The last thing she wanted to do was make a friend uncomfortable. “Yeah,” she said somewhat defeatedly as she rang out some of her clothes, “We can talk about it later.” Having this ability to shift in common was something that had excited her, but she wasn’t going to push it unnecessarily.

When Mercy mentioned being a fury, confusion crossed Ariana’s face. Fury? Valkyrie? What the hell was that? The name fury did sound intimidating, but she had no idea what that meant. She simply responded, “I’ve never heard of a fury. What do you do?” Was that rude to ask? She really wanted to know and wasn’t exactly sure who else she could go to with her questions that wouldn’t immediately out Mercy. She shook her head and said, “Don’t worry about the debt thing. I just wanted to help.” As much was true though she could hear Deirdre in the back of her mind telling her to get that money.

“Wait, you killed Squidward the original? Holy shit,” she exclaimed. Clearly this woman was some sort of badass. Squidward was bigger than this guy here who was still lurking just beneath the surface. She could see the changing in shade in the water, however subtle, and hear its movements. “She’s right, I don’t think it will be safe for a while.”

Even though she hated how dejected Ariana sounded, Mina couldn’t talk about this. Not here, not now, not with the realization that Ari, who was sweet and kind and such a good friend, was the same kind of monster as the woman who gutted Mina’s dad and left her burning from his blood weighing heavily on her chest. “Maybe when we’re not soaking wet and coming off a squid fueled adrenaline rush, yes?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light and hoping that it was working. She gave Ari a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Maybe she could play it off that she was just tired. She was so, so exhausted.

The fact that Mercy was a Fury caused Mina to pale, brief descriptions of creatures that thrived on vengeance and chaos that even her father wouldn’t have attempted to take on alone. Had she made a mistake, offering this woman help? She would have almost preferred a hunter, a person whose thoughts and machinations she’d be more familiar with. But the word debt caused her eyes to widen, and she hastily said, “No! You don’t owe me any debt. I don’t accept.” The words came out a bit more vicious than she intended. If Mercy wanted to do something for her, fine. It made Mina uncomfortable, but fine. However, she wasn’t going to let the other woman be binded to that sort of obligation. It simply wasn’t happening. Mina just… didn’t want people owing her, even if that person was dangerous.

And Mercy was clearly dangerous, Mina realized, if she was one of the people that killed the first squid. If it hadn’t been for what the three of them had been through, Mina would be doing whatever she could to get herself and Ariana out of this situation. As it was, she didn’t… distrust Mercy. But she’d been taught that furies only wanted chaos and strife. They weren’t the kind to do long term niceties. Maybe Mina was letting old thoughts, old prejudices cloud her judgement. She didn’t feel equipped to handle this, right now. “That’s incredibly impressive,” she said instead of voicing her thoughts, and it was. That squid had scared almost everything in the lake, herself included. And now, apparently, it had a friend. “Right. Well, If you need someone to help again, I’ve never been at risk of drowning. I can find it for you if need be. No debts needed.”

It wasn’t often that Mercy told people what she was. For one, most had never heard of Fury’s anyway, not outside of human mythology. For two, there weren’t many Fury’s left in the world, to Mercy’s knowledge at least, and the ones that remained were still alive for a reason. They were cautious. Being virtually unkillable helped, but it was caution that had kept Mercy alive for so long. But Ariana and Mina had given their help freely and without any coercion on Mercy’s part. And it seemed as if they had secrets of their own. Which Mercy would keep. She had many secrets, the least of which were the identities of two teenage supernaturals.

At least one of which fell into the ‘What’s a Fury?’ category. Mina seemed to know the term, however, as her skin grew a shade lighter. Mercy put a pin in the reaction and turned to give Ariana a sideways grin as she squeezed the water out of her thick blonde hair. “Let’s just say I’m… a sort of... personal motivator. For certain types of people. Not the two of you,” she assured them. “This is different.” They had volunteered, after all. Mercy had no need to influence anyone. “But laymans version is that I have a knack for bringing out certain... attributes in people that would otherwise stay buried. I can find what moves them, or what holds them in place… and I…” She gave a small shrug. “- motivate them to change. To be better. Stronger. To fight back against their enemies.” To find the chaos and the turmoil inside themselves. Or just to fight in general, but that wasn’t necessarily relevant. As for the debt, Mercy would repay it someday, regardless. But for now she let it go, and nodded at the question about the squid. “Yes. But I didn’t do it alone. I was one of three.”

To Mina’s sharp declaration of Mercy not owing her, Mercy simply looked at the younger woman curiously. She was a water fae of some sort, or so Mercy assumed, so it was odd - in Mercy’s experience with fae - for the offer to be turned down. Mercy didn’t do it lightly. But to each their own. Mina didn’t seem quite as comfortable with Mercy as Ariana did. “Very well. But you have my gratitude regardless.” Mercy looked back to the lake. Part of her wanted to simply walk into the water and take back what was hers with violence and blood. Another part wanted to run from the darkness that lay below the surface as fast as her legs would carry her. But Ariana and Mina were right. Now wasn’t the time. She took a few steps back, turning her gaze back to the others as Mina spoke again. “Thank you.” The words were genuine, but they held a weariness that was from far more than today’s events. And like Mercy, it was far older than either Mina or Ariana could likely fathom. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she told Mina, but glanced between both girls. “No debts needed.”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #p: ariana #p: mina #p: all that glitters #potw

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theskyeandsea · 4 years

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A Seal Out of Water || Ariana & Skylar

Timing: September 28th

Location: Coffee Plus

Tagging: @letsbenditlikebennett & @theskyeandsea

Description: What was intended to be a calm chat over coffee goes slightly awry when a certain unwelcome visitor makes another appearance. Skylar and Ariana inadvertently learn some new secrets about one another.

After her conversation with Ariana online, Skylar had shut her laptop and spent a long time staring hard at her hands. There was so much pain and loss going on in this town. So many people were losing so much. Losing the people they cared about, losing the things that mattered the most, even losing themselves. And… she’d resolved to do what she could to try and stop some of the pain. Which is why she was at the coffee shop now, hoping that Ariana would show. The girl had no obligation to meet with her-- she was an adult, she could make her own decisions and, after all, Skylar didn’t have any real kind of authority over the students at the school. She took a sip from the mug and rubbed her face tiredly. She’d had a long day at work and her wrists hurt a little, but she wanted to be here. She wanted to help. As the door of the coffee shop jingled, she saw Ariana walk in and offered a small wave. “Hey, Ariana.” She said with a soft smile.

In hindsight, maybe dumping the bomb of what happened to Celeste on Skylar had not been her smartest move, but it was no surprise that she’d been kind about it all. Ariana had graciously taken her up on the offer to meet for coffee. While she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to tell her more about what happened, she still couldn't place the different scent that Skylar carried that led her to believe they were more alike than not. If she could just sniff her out again, she could figure it out for sure. Maybe even place it. A small knot of guilt twisted in her stomach. Skylar was being genuinely great, but still, her curiosity was in full swing. She was quick to spot Skylar in the coffee shop and gave her a small wave, “Hey,” she greeted with a small grin that felt out of place somehow, “Thanks for inviting me. I know… Well, I know that was a lot to randomly dump on someone. So this is really cool of you.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m just glad that you wanted to meet up.” Skylar said her expression warm. She wasn’t sure how best to broach the subject, or if it was even something that Ariana really wanted to talk about. Maybe it was better to just… talk about something else? To pretend that things were normal? But, her sister had died, that sort of thing wasn’t normal. She’d never met the woman before, but she knew that Ariana’s sister was young. Far too young to have died. Then again, she had a feeling that most people thought that they were too young to die. Lifting her coffee mug to her lips, Skylar took a sip before speaking, “Are you-- well,” She paused, shaking her head, “I was going to ask if you were okay, but that’s not quite right. How have you been doing? This summer, but also in general?”

“Yeah, it’s been a while. I think I had just missed you that time Winston was in the hospital… Not that it would have been a happy visit either way, but you know,” Ariana responded still feeling somewhat in an odd place. Skylar was different, that much she could smell out, and she wasn’t great at just ignoring these things. She liked Skylar and didn’t want to do anything to make her uncomfortable, especially not when she was being so kind. She took a sip of the latte she grabbed on the way in and pondered how she wanted to answer that question. The truth was bleak and even more so after having seen some fake version of Celeste. She shifted in her seat and reluctantly answered, “I’ve been… getting by pretty much. Things just keep getting crazier somehow. I just-- I don’t know. I want to keep the people I care about safe and be someone my sister would be proud of, but things just keep-- I feel like I can’t get a grasp on anything outside of class and coaching lately. How’ve you been okay though? You haven’t seen anything strange lately, have you?”

Swallowing, Skylar nodded wordlessly. She’d heard all about Winston’s trip to the hospital, had tried to visit them when they were there. But, hospitals, they still made her a little uneasy. And, knowing that she wasn’t human didn’t make being there any easier. “Getting by is sometimes all we can do, you know?” She said with a small laugh, rubbing the side of her coffee mug with a rueful expression. It wasn’t much comfort, she knew that. But, it was the truth. Sometimes just waking up and facing the day was a milestone. “Mmm. That’s really noble of you, Ariana. To try and live your life that way. But, you know it’s okay if you’re not there yet, right? It’s okay to take your time, to give yourself time to heal.” She said. As the younger woman asked her about herself, about seeing anything strange, a lump formed in the back of her throat. What hadn’t she seen in this town? The Hall of Mirrors came to mind, the awful… horrible vision of herself curled up on the ground. She’d seen her greatest fear, the ocean, well up from nowhere and drown people in the middle of the town. And just the other day… she’d seen a man emerge from the fog, his chest a caved in mass of bones and gore. “Ah… Not really. Just your usual White Crest forecast. It rained dog toys this morning.” Skylar deflected with another laugh, this one more forced. “My roommate’s dog had a great time with it, though.”

Maybe Skylar was right. Maybe getting by was enough for now, but Ariana hated the feeling of it. She missed feeling excited to take on the day. She missed feeling good. Hell, she’d settle for even just feeling okay at this point, but she’d been on edge ever since she saw Celeste at Kaden’s. As much as she missed her sister, she was so afraid she’d see her again and have to watch the same scene play out all over again. The thought alone made her stomach twist into unsettling knots so she set her coffee mug down on the table. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that. It’d be nice to just be past that part I guess,” she explained as she looked down at the patterns the foamed milk made in her drink. Skylar spoke of how it was okay to give herself time, but was it really? Winn had just died and Ace could be shortly behind him if she let herself take a break from all of this. Then the grieving process would just start all over again and someone else would probably die from something she could have helped with. There was no taking time, not when she had the means to protect others. Still, she responded quietly, “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” She didn’t quite believe it, but it was better than discounting the sentiment entirely. Skylar was only looking out for her after all. While she’d noticed the raining dog toys herself and Luna had an absolute field day with them, that wasn’t entirely what she’d meant. Still, she let out a small laugh. “Oh yeah, I saw that. My dog was having an absolute blast. Brought a few of them home so her toy basket is extra full. That’s not entirely what I meant, but if that’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen recently, then I’ll count that as a win.” She wanted to question further, figure out just what Skylar was, but she wouldn’t push it.

“That makes sense. It’s kinda cheesy, but there’s that old saying “this too shall pass?” It’ll get better. Things won’t be this way forever.” Skylar said with a hopeful nod, though she wondered if the person who’d said that ever had to deal with the supernatural. If they did, maybe they wouldn’t have said that. As the conversation turned to the talk of dog toys, Skylar couldn’t help but brighten at the way that Ariana’s smile spread across her face. It was good to see her smile, to hear her laugh. If you were still smiling through the hardship, that meant it hadn’t beaten you yet. At least, that had been her perspective through all the rough times. “Aw, that’s really cute. I saw Dundee dragging this giant squeaky toy across the yard, it was about the same size as him. I have a picture, actually.” She said, reaching for her phone. As she reached into the pocket of her jacket, Skylar glanced out the window of the coffee shop. Her eyes widened, phone slipping from her fingers and hitting the ground as she stared in shock.

Emerging from the fog was the young man from before, the one she’d seen with Mina. He looked the same as he had that night, his wet hair plastered against his forehead, dressed in the same soaked, oversized clothes. Though she turned her head away, it was too late. She’d seen the cavern of his chest, a mass of gore and blood, his lungs shredded and destroyed. “Nonononono.” She muttered under her breath, tears springing to her eyes as she fumbled to grab her phone. Skylar looked at Ariana with a panicked expression-- she’d almost forgotten why she was here, who she was here with. “I-- I need to go-- I can’t.” Her eyes flicked back to the window. The man was still standing there.

“Yeah, everything passes eventually,” Ariana agreed though it only made her want to hold on more tightly to the good times. They seemed to slip away far too easily for her liking. Raining dog toys was a pretty good time though. Seeing Luna so excited on their morning walk had brightened her mood for the day. There had to be something supernatural going on there, too. She sure as hell hoped they didn’t turn into like little cow monsters or giant tennis wrecking balls, but only time would tell. As Skylar pulled out her phone, she cooed over the picture of Dundee toting a squeaky toy bigger than he was. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed with a bit of a giggle coming across, “That is too freaking cute. Love a small dog with some big dog energy.” She related in a way. Small wolf, big personality. It was nice relaxing a bit and actually laughing. She’d been needing to disconnect from everything that had been weighing her down recently.

As she found herself starting to feel a little bit lighter, Ariana was shocked to find that Skylar looked alarmed. She tilted her head, questioning the change in demeanor and the mutters under her breath, but her gaze quickly followed Skylar’s. “Holy shit,” she breathed out. There was a bloodied man standing outside the window looking straight at Skylar. Was he okay? He definitely didn’t look okay and neither did Skylar. “Wait, Skylar, don’t-- Do you know that guy or something,” she pressed.

Skylar’s hands were shaking at her sides as she shoved her phone back into her pocket, her coffee long forgotten. How had he found her? Why was he here? She’d assumed that he was like the cultists, that he was bound to the lake in some way. But, he’d come into town and he was staring straight at her. Just as he had that night. “I don’t know who he is-- he…” Skylar bit the inside of her cheek, unsure how to word things. She didn’t want to lie to Ariana, but how could she explain that she’d seen him rise from the lake in the middle of the night, how he definitely should be dead, how he kept asking for someone she didn’t know? “He followed me the other night. I thought I lost him, but he’s back now-- I have to go..” She said, distraught. But, how was she going to get away? The only way out was the front door and he was standing just outside the shop. “I need-- there’s got to be another exit, right?” She said, looking around with desperate, eyes. She didn’t want him anywhere near her, she didn’t want to be forced to look at him for another minute longer.

The panic in Skylar’s eyes definitely had her worried. Ariana had never seen her quite like this and her protective instinct kicked in. “Hey,” she said soothingly, “It’s okay, we’ll get away from him and if he tries anything…” How was she supposed to explain she could bring the claws out if it came to that? She could tell Skylar was different, so in her usual fashion, she decided to go with the fuck it and tell her what’s up route. “If he is dangerous-- Let’s just say I’m tight with the moon and that comes with some advantages in the strength department,” she explained as she quickly scanned the place for another exit. It was past the employee area, but she pointed anyway. “Over there, it looks like there’s an employee exit around back. Probably not allowed back there, but some rules are meant to be broken.” Probably not what Skylar wanted to hear, but she urged, “Come on.” She led the way to the back exit ignoring the protests from some of the employees with a wave of her hand. When they emerged into the alley, she was shocked to see how quickly Mr. Spooktastic made it to the alley. She narrowed her eyes and let out a low growl. “What do you want, creep?”

“Tight with the moon?” Skylar repeated, confused by what she meant by that. But, she didn’t really have time to ask any more questions-- she just wanted to be away from the man. She didn’t like the way that he kept asking her about someone she didn’t even know. She didn’t like the way he stared at her, as though he kept waiting for her to recognize her. She’d never seen him before, she didn’t know him. She wasn’t even sure what he was. “The exit, yeah-- let’s… let’s go.” She said with a nod before following close behind Ariana. But, as soon as they were out of the building, the man was there. Stock still, hands at his sides, palms facing them. He looked… as though he was trying to keep them calm. “Eliza-- why don’t you recognize me? It’s me. It’s Ben.” He said, gesturing to himself, hands pointing to the gore-slick cave of his chest. “Please, I spent so long looking for you. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. That everyone’s safe.” His expression turned pained at those words and, not for the first time, Skylar wondered what had happened to him. How had he gotten those wounds? And what, what was he?

Another time, she could answer questions about being tight with the moon, but right now, Ariana was far more concerned with making sure Skylar was safe and okay. Why was this clearly very injured guy calling her Eliza? That was definitely not her name. Her eyes narrowed as she did her best to keep herself between Skylar and this obviously very confused man. There was the hum of a low growl on her lips as she did her best to stand between them. “Listen, dude, I don’t know what your deal is, but her name’s not Eliza and you need to leave her alone.” The injury on his chest was pretty alarming though and she almost felt bad for him, but Skylar was way higher on her priority list than whoever this stalker was. She looked to Skylar concerned, “You don’t know him, right? Because I’m definitely not above punching stalkers.”

First Mina, now Ariana-- both of them had put themselves between herself and this strange man. And Skylar, she didn’t want that. She didn’t want people jumping between her and danger, putting themselves in the line of fire. They didn’t need to do that for her, they didn’t. She could-- she should-- hold her own. She had to be braver, had to be stronger. She wanted to be everything that she was supposed to be, instead of everything she was. Swallowing, Skylar put a hand on Ariana’s shoulder, squeezing gently. She hoped that would be enough to convince the girl to let her slip past without a fight. And, before she knew it, Skylar found herself face to face with the drenched, bloodied man. He studied her, stared at her face for a long hard moment. His eyes were just as blue and inscrutable as before, the color of the sea before the storm. In any other circumstance, she might have liked his eyes, but not now. “I’m not Eliza, please. Who is she? Can you tell me more about her? I could help you find her, just tell me who you are. Maybe I can help.” She said, pleading with the man, with… Ben, that’s what he’d called himself. “Ben--”

At his name, the man’s face contorted, an expression of pain and frustration on his face. “Don’t say my name! If you’re not Eliza, don’t say my name!” He howled. Skylar flinched, taking a step back away from her. But, as she did so, the man pressed forward. His hands curled around the front of her jacket, holding her still. “Where is she? You look, you… How are you not her? How are you not my Liza?” He said, still staring at her, hand reaching out to touch her face.

Every instinct in Ariana was screaming to not let Skylar go around her, but she could smell she was different. She had to trust she knew what she was doing even if this whole situation seemed off. Her eyes remained glued on the man as he spoke. His body language didn’t seem like he was ready to attack, not that she was sure he could in his condition, but she still felt inclined to make sure he didn’t try anything shady. With some concentrated effort, she took some deep breaths to keep herself calm. She was always so ready to hop right into a fight, but Skylar was ready to help this man if she was able to. Skylar was kind like that, but Ariana was still hesitant. He seemed so troubled, but Ariana couldn’t find it in her to trust him. As he reached his hand towards Skylar’s face, a barely audible growl rumbled in her throat and she gave him a glare that screamed he better watch himself.

Skylar was only able to pick up on the strange rumble that rose from the back of Ariana’s throat thanks to her hearing aids, the receiver barely picking up the sound. It was a sound of warning, one that implied violence. But, the man didn’t seem to notice it. He reached out and ran the pad of his thumb against her cheek, brushing some of the hair from her face. “You look so much like her. Who are you? Where’s my Liza?” He repeated. Unnerved by how close he was to her-- and very aware of the bloody mess of his torso-- Skylar took a halting step back from him. “I don’t know who she is, but my name’s Skylar. Please, I don’t know who Eliza is. Are you from White Crest? I can help you find her, if you can give me her full name.” As she spoke, she noticed that his eyes were focused on her lips, watching the way she formed words. Was he… Holding her hands up in a tentative sign, she signed while she spoke, “Are you hard of hearing?”

The man stared at her, staring from her hands back to her lips. Tilting his head, he pointed to her teeth. “Are you… are you one of the sea folk?” He asked, lips parting in a jagged smile, his mouth full of curving sharp teeth. Teeth that looked just like hers. She hadn’t imagined it. He was like her

It was hard to tear her eyes away from the man’s battered torso. Was he real? Was he a ghost? Was this another weird White Crest illusion? Ariana had no way of telling, but she let Skylar handle this. When he smiled, she noticed his teeth were jagged just like Ricky’s and suddenly pieces started coming together. The way Skylar had a similar scent to Ricky and how she was hard of hearing just like him. It brought some clue as to why the man was following her, but not a full picture. “You’re a selkie,” she said to both of them plainly. Maybe she had been unnecessarily defensive earlier, but her protective instincts were in high swing as of late. “Sorry, I,” she started unsure of where she was going with this. “What do you need? How can we help you,” she asked.

At the sound of the word selkie, Skylar flinched. How did Ariana know about selkies, how did she realize what they were? Was she a part of this supernatural world too? Was that why she’d said that strange thing about the moon? Her fingers gripped the long sleeves of her shirt tightly, her knuckles whitening. She didn’t-- no. No, no. She was trying to accept this, trying to accept what she was by being the best… selkie she could be. Swallowing, Skylar nodded. “I’m a selkie.” She said. The words sounded more steady and confident than she felt, which she was glad for. She didn’t want them to know that some part of her still hated what she was. The man stared at her, his confusion only growing. “White Crest? No… I don’t know where that is. Where am I?” He asked, shaking his head. “I need,” The man, Ben, growled grasping his head with his hands. “I need to find her.”

Before Skylar could say another word, the man backed out the alley, the fog closing around him. Though she wanted to go after him, to see where he’d gone, her legs had turned to lead and refused to move. Instead, Skylar glanced over at Ariana, despair on her face. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t-- I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

The pieces of the puzzle came together and Ariana realized maybe that this had been an inopportune moment, but the injured man in front of them was clearly also a selkie. Were they connected somehow? It was hard to tell with the current level of White Crest bullshit going on. Then again, when was there not something crazy going on here? As much pain as it caused her, she wouldn’t trade the connections she’d made for anything. “Cool,” she answered, letting Skylar know that she was totally okay with selkie. She quickly added, “I’m a werewolf and practically Walking Dead dude over here is clearly also a selkie so we should probably--” She cut herself off as she realized how confused the man was and let Skylar take the wheel. Whatever their relationship, this felt like something personal so she took a step back. However, it seemed useless as more fog started rolling in and he faded away. She frowned and reached out though it wasn’t of much use. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath and took a step closer to Skylar. “Hey,” she assured calmly, “You don’t need to be sorry. That wasn’t your fault. Are you okay though?”

Still staring into the fog, Skylar didn’t process what Ariana had said until the man had completely faded from view, not a trace of him to be found. Werewolf? Startled, Skylar immediately turned to face the girl. “Wait, what? You’re… you’re a werewolf?” She asked, taken completely off-guard by the revelation. “That’s-- mmmmmm.” Skylar hummed nervously. She tried to steady herself, taking measured, careful breaths as her mind raced. Ariana was a werewolf. And that man, he was a selkie, just like she was. But he wasn’t really, he was… dead? Walking Dead-- no, he wasn’t a zombie, he didn’t look like Remmy or Morgan, they’d never looked like he had. Not even the night that Skylar had seen Remmy get torn to pieces, the black blood flecked across their face, their organs-- Shutting her eyes tightly, Skylar backed up against the wall of the alley. Her head was spinning, her breath coming in quick, sharp gasps. It was too much, it was all too much. She felt lightheaded and the collar of her shirt felt suddenly too tight around her neck. “Mm mm.” She shook her head at Ariana’s question. She wasn’t alright, none of this was alright.

This whole experience was clearly overwhelming to Skylar. Ariana thought revealing herself since Skylar had been revealed would bring some comfort, but she was wrong and she wanted to smack herself for it. “I am,” she answered more quietly this time, looking down at her feet momentarily. The fog was coming in quick, but by the rapid beat of Skylar’s heart and how her breathing sounded, Ariana knew she wasn’t in fact okay as she stated. “No you’re not,” she started, keeping her voice low and even to calm her down. “Deep breaths,” she instructed, “It’s going to be okay, just keep taking deep breaths, alright?” She wanted to reach out, but was unsure if that would make her more or less tense.

The wall was cool against the back of her head and Skylar did her best to focus on her breathing like Ariana was telling her. She was trying, she was trying so hard to be… okay with everything. But how could she be okay with what she’d seen, with the revelations that seemed to occur on a near daily basis? How could she ever feel okay about any of this? How would any of it be okay? Ariana… was a werewolf. And, and, she’d lost her sister earlier this year. Had a hunter done it? Had her sister been like her? Had she been hunted? Had her sister stared down the barrel of a gun, just as Skylar had, and been unlucky? Bile filled the back of her throat as Skylar remembered that night, the way that man had signed at her. How he had used the language she loved to promise her death. Shaking her head back and forth, Skylar forced herself to open her eyes and look at Ariana. “I-I-I--” She stammered, her rapid breathing ruining her train of thought, “I’m s-sorry.” She managed.

From what Ariana could hear, Skylar’s heart was still racing even as she tried to focus on her breathing. There was no telling what was going on in Skylar’s head and how she could help, but she tried to just be there and take the lead by doing deep breaths alongside her. Her eyes widened at the apology and she shook her head. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she stated calmly. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and took out a bottle of water and handed it to her. It was something small that could maybe help. “Here,” she offered as she handed the water to Skylar, “This might help, too.” Whatever the hell just happened had left her own head spinning, but it seemed to be resonating more deeply with Skylar. Somehow all her other worries seemed to fade away realizing a good person needed her help. “Look, I don’t know what that was or what’s going on, but everything will be okay again eventually. Just gotta keep breathing.”

Ariana’s deep breathing provided a calming rhythm that Skylar forced herself to follow, syncing her own breaths to it like a metronome. She had to calm down, she needed to… to just think. She needed to process everything that had happened. The man’s return. Ariana’s identity as a werewolf. The horrifying confirmation that the man, that Ben, was a selkie too. And that he’d met some kind of gruesome, deadly fate. Just gotta keep breathing. Ariana’s words echoed in her ears. Just gotta keep breathing. With a hum and a nod, Skylar did her best to calm herself. In. Out. In… Out.

Skylar just had to keep her head above water, had to keep breathing. It would get better, things would be okay eventually. She knew that. But everything this town threw at her, it was weighing her down, filling her pockets with stones that dragged her further and further down. How could she keep breathing when it felt like the world wanted to see her drown?

#p: asoow #p: ariana bennett #chatzy #wickedswriting

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deathduty · 4 years

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Life, Death and Mario Kart || Ariana & Deirdre

PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett & @deathduty SUMMARY: Ariana finally fixes Deirdre’s leaky faucet. WARNINGS: none

Since the previous full moon, Ariana had spent most of her time in the woods with Luna or locked away in the workshop the landlord had let her set up in exchange for some handy work around the complex. As such, she finished the table she’d been working on for Deirdre, but she had been dreading bringing it over. Not after what Lydia did. Not knowing they were friends. Would she already know? Would she be angry? She deserved anger. It was what she felt toward herself for coming up with such a half thought out plan when it was Ace’s life on the line. Today, she’d have to stifle that down as Deirdre had asked her to actually repair the leaky faucet this go round which meant she should bring the table with her. She’d loaded up her truck and drove to Deirdre’s. Music wasn’t a distraction she bothered with. It wouldn’t keep her mind from drifting back to Ace and she needed to live with what she’d done. Still, she stood a little straighter as she got out of her truck and went to ring the bell to Deirdre’s. She took in a deep breath as she rang the bell and awaited the door opening.

Some things were strange; whatever way a microwave worked, however Anya decided she felt comfortable folded into herself like a loaf, and excuses, however transparent, to see Ariana. By logic, Deirdre knew she could see the younger girl whenever she wanted, that she could in fact invite her for dinner and ask after her well-being—if she needed money, if she was eating right, staying away from the wrong people. But in strangeness, she found it far easier to ask the girl to fix the leaky faucets she loosened herself, and was more than capable of tightening herself. It wasn’t so much about the faucets, it never really was. This time, she just didn’t know how to ask a friend over. And, strangely, she was excited. “Ariana,” Deirdre opened the door with a wide grin and gestured her in. “You look a little tense,” she noted, though more as a joke than any factual bit of observation. “There’s no Spinach-deer here this time if you’re worried about it. I double checked. There are, however—“ Moira padded to the door, screaming her greeting in a series of incessant meows. “Cats that missed you.” And a banshee that did too, in her way.

The reflex to frown at the mention of tension was hard to ignore, but Ariana smiled slightly anyway and simply said, “Oh.” There was no real explanation she could give Deirdre anyway, especially not one that she would like. The mention of the Spinach-deer did make her laugh a bit, it was easier to think of spinach deer than the fact that one of Deirdre’s friends had an actually torture bunker in her basement. At least that had been what Sammy’s ghost had told Blanche. “Good, good-- no spinach deer. I’d rather not accidentally have your house destroyed again. What if it hurt my mini fridges,” she joked. She smiled down at the cats before she gestured back toward her truck. “I actually have something in the truck for you. It’s not too heavy, but if you could hold the door open, I’ll bring it in.” She set her toolbox down by the door and quickly grabbed the end table out of her truck. It was dense, but she still felt some residual strength from the moon paired with energy she’d hardly been expending as she avoided everyone. Part of her wondered if she also saw Layla’s post online about her being missing. Surely, after Morgan’s message threatening to kill someone for her, she had to have known and it only further the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She made her way in the house and set the table down by the couch. “I can move it wherever you decide you’d like to put it. I did my best to make the table legs anatomically correct femurs and tibias while still being load bearing.” With the table set down, she kneeled down to reach her hand out to Moira and Anya. Moira was quick to come see her while Anya remained a bit more aloof. The now bigger kitten purred and rubbed her face into Ariana’s hand. “Yeah, I missed you, too.”

Whatever must have been wrong, Deirdre smiled softly and ignored it. Ariana was a smart kid, but more than that, her life hadn’t been kind to her. There must have been a number of things on her mind at any given moment, and who was Deirdre to force her into confessing them? Ariana must have had enough people asking for her feelings and whereabouts at any moment. Deirdre thought it better to carve out a space that was kind, give the kid something better to think about for some time. “Oh no, not the mini fridges. That’d be a terrible tragedy. I think there’s still some food in there.” She paused. “Probably should have taken that out.” But snacks didn’t get mouldy, right? Deirdre closed the door behind the young werewolf when she was done, eyeing the table. “It’s beautiful.” She moved to the table, running her hands over the fine woodwork. She was no leanan-sidhe, nothing like Lydia, no purveyor of craftsmanship...but it looked fine to her. More than fine, and all the more having been made by someone she cared about. “It might be the best piece of furniture in this house. No, don’t move it. Leave it there for when Morgan gets in, I’d like to ask her opinion of where she wants it. But I think she should get to see it like this first. As your art, something you made for us.” She withdrew her hands from the wood, worried she might taint it somehow...and then worried the cats might think of it as a scratching post. Not that they’d ever harmed any piece of their furniture before, having more than enough to keep them occupied around the house. “How much?” Deirdre asked after a moment, lifting her head. “How much do you want?” But her eyes offered a challenge; she’d told the girl to charge her fair share, and she had no interest in paying anything less. “And why are you standing around the foyer like a stranger? Come get comfortable.”

There was something about Deirdre’s humor that had always brought her a sense of ease, even now when Ariana was filled with doubt. It was evident that Lydia hadn’t mentioned anything to her which was somehow both a relief and a disappointment. Deirdre surely wouldn’t approve of a promise that put her in serious danger, right? Then again, she didn’t know just how close they were or if she knew about the actual torture bunker in her basement. Still, she laughed, “We couldn’t have that.” There was something that made her feel a bit lighter as she watched Deirdre appreciate her craftsmanship. She had a long way to go when it came to making truly professional pieces, but she had enjoyed the process behind this one. She’d never really worked with trying to recreate bones before and they weren’t perfect, but the table was sturdy and unique. Something both Deirdre and Morgan could enjoy. “Thank you,” she said proudly. Saying it was the best piece of furniture in the house may have been a bit of stretch. Deirdre did have some extremely gorgeous things in her house. “I don’t know how true that is, but I’ll take it. It was definitely made with the most love, that’s for sure.” She was happy Morgan would get to see it and help place it, too. “Perfect then, I hope she likes it, too. Yes, it is definitely something specific to you two.” She shook her head as Deirdre was trying to get a price on the table. Of course she wanted to pay her. Ariana wasn’t even sure what to charge her if she was going to at all. She placed a hand on her hip, “Any chance you’ll accept it as a gift?” She made her way to the couch with Moira following closely. She smiled down at the cat who hopped on her lap as she sat down. “You don’t have to tell me twice. I’ve missed my favorite kitty.” As she stroked Moira’s fur, she asked, “So how’s everything been with you? I know I haven’t stopped by in forever.”

Deirdre shook her head, she knew enough about young artists from leanan-sidhe to know how valuable support and praise were to them. But she wasn’t making some game of trying to get Ariana to like her, she cared for the child, and she could spare a few hundred dollars to the good cause of treating the girl like the professional she might be one day. “Not a chance at all,” her eyes turned back to the table, and all the attention poured into it. “You’re a woodworker, you’ll get paid like one. Your work and your time are valuable, Ariana. I’ll start accepting gifts of this nature from you in twenty years time, maybe.” She smiled, drawing her hand away and stuffing it in her pocket. She followed behind Ariana slowly, wondering what manner of strength it took to lose as much as Ariana had, as young as she had, and to still be someone with hope. Enough of it, at least, to be making tables. “But we can work out the dollar amount later, you’ve got a leaky faucet to fix as well. And I intend to pay you for that.” For once, finally, to end some strange saga she started with the faucet she unscrewed herself to laugh at humans trying to fix it. Until she’d nearly gotten a child killed by some manner of bad luck. Her faucet would get fixed, Ariana would get paid, and she felt everything would be well. She took a seat across from Ariana, smiling gently. “Oh, nothing’s changed much, apparently. Morgan’s being hunted by a ghost that wants to kill her, again. I still can’t find that one glove I lost months ago.” She crossed her legs one over the other. “I hear you’ve been busy though,” she smiled a little wider, drawing a finger to her lips, “I won’t ask. You’re a smart kid, Ariana. I trust you’ll do right by yourself, whatever it is you need to do. But if you ever need a place to go, I won’t touch your room here. It’s yours.” She cocked her head to the side, offering her next words with a soft drawl, as if they could be swept away and forgotten if Ariana wanted it. “Do you...want to talk about it?”

It was hardly a surprise to Ariana that Deirdre wanted to pay her for her work. She could remember their first ever conversation where she all but insisted she charge more for her time. The fact Deirdre wanted her to do well for herself was nice even if it still felt strange charging someone who opened their home to her so much for something she’d wanted to give as a gift. She supposed it was part of the way Deirdre showed she cared. While her words were often nonchalant and funny, her actions indicated she cared for her. It made her stomach turn to think that could change if Lydia told her what she’d done to Sammy. Was there any making this right? She hardly cared about doing so for Lydia. Hell, she wanted to lash out at Lydia more than anything else, but she knew it was dangerous and that it’d hurt Deirdre. As it stood, she was bound to hurt herself and others if she were to deliver on her promise. She pushed that away and smiled weakly, “Okay, we can discuss payment after I fix the leaky faucet. This time there won’t be a whole home repair to go with it.” At least she hoped as much. She walked over to the kitchen and looked over the faucet. It didn’t look like the main would need to be turned off just to tighten it again. She knelt down under the sink and grabbed the wrench from her toolkit. With a few twists, it was good to go. She leapt back up and turned it on and off for good measure. “I think we’re good in the sink department.”

She made herself comfortable now that the work part was done and called Moira over to her. She really did love this kitten who was slightly bigger than the last time she saw her. She frowned at the mention of the ghost, “Oh, Morgan told me about that. Warned me to be careful. Gave me a salt and iron mix that I haven’t really opened since I have a ghosty roommate right now. I think he’ll pass on soon though.” At least she hoped so. Sammy deserved to be at peace. At the mention of being busy, her mouth dropped and she felt her stomach flip. Did Lydia tell her? Was she upset? “You heard I’ve been busy… from who?” She asked the question though she was sure she knew the answer. Moira seemed to pick up on the tension rising in her and further butted her head into her hands. “I appreciate that I always have a room here. I really do. As much as I really want to talk about it and think you could probably help, I can’t.”

It was strange that, after so long, after all the ways she pestered people about it, her leaky faucet was finally fixed. Deirdre could have cried, in fact, she might’ve. She watched Ariana with a fond smile, hiding some sniffling as she went back to the couch—an action she figured might have been futile against a girl with enhanced senses. Either way, it was just silly to cry about a sink, even if it was the strange sense of pride for Ariana that flooded her that she was really teary-eyed about. “Morgan got to you first, huh,” she laughed, settling in again. “Ghostly...roommate…?” She cocked her head to the side, “bad or good roommate?” Ghosts could be such pests sometimes, as she saw it. But while she believed in quick exorcisms and a peaceful space, she understood where others might disagree, and so she didn’t press Ariana to just use her salt and be rid of the ghost. “Passing on soon is good, I suppose. Some ghosts can be pretty stubborn about it though.” Constance was a perfect case-study of that. She picked up a bottle of wine from one of several places she had them stashed around the great room (laziness was the greatest innovator), pulling out a glass for herself. She popped the bottle open, and started to pour. “From the internet, mostly. Apparently you went missing.” Was all she really meant by that statement, by Ariana’s reaction was peculiar—guilty, almost. Deirdre tilted her bottle back, satisfied with the full cup she poured. She turned the label to her and smiled softly before putting it down, a bottle that marked one of several gifts from Lydia. She crossed her legs, one over the other, and took slow sips. “Can’t...why?” She looked at the girl. “If it’s a promise you’re bound to, you should know fae make exceptions for each other, I could easily have it undone. Unless, of course, it isn’t that. Have you done something I wouldn’t approve of? Are you protecting someone else?” She wasn’t sure where her inquiry suddenly turned to interrogation, but it was something in the nature of her that stirred it forth. “It’s no matter, really,” she corrected herself with a short cough. “It’s none of my business. As long as you’re safe, and okay, and know what you’re doing...I don’t need to know the facts.”

Deirdre gazed into her wine glass, her reflection twisted in the crimson depths. “You are safe...aren’t you?” She set the glass down, crumbling into concern. “Promi—well, don’t promise me but...just answer me truthfully. You’re taking care of yourself? Not doing anything you shouldn’t be? You are...a valued friend, Ariana. I feel like…” She had almost said a mother, which was as laughable a concept as crying about a sink. “...your wine-aunt. I worry about you, is all I mean. You and all the other kids in this town. Are you hanging out with Blanche? I feel like that girl has got some broken or sprained or pulled or twisted or burnt part of her body every week or another. I know you lot feel like you have to do something, but maybe it’d just be better to...let someone else take care of it.” She sighed, laughing to herself. “No, you wouldn’t listen to me if I told you not to get involved with this town’s problems. Just….are you safe?”

It was a bit curious to Ariana that Deirdre was so happy about the sink. Despite her efforts to hide her sniffles, Ariana could still hear them and smiled to herself. Something about Deirdre’s guidance had become a welcome light in her life. While she was a peculiar woman in the best of ways, she found Deirdre easy to talk to. It was something she shared with Morgan. The way they made their home so welcoming to her without any sort of second thought. Something about it made her chest pang as she realized how fragile it all could be. The ghostly roommate was a reminder of that. “Not bad. He was a good friend. My medium friend is trying to help him move on, I think,” she explained even though the thought of Sammy being truly gone pained her. At the sound of the word missing, she rolled her eyes. She still couldn’t believe she was the talk of the town online when she’d just been holed up in her apartment. “Ugh, I wasn’t missing. I was literally in my apartment. I was just… well, laying on the floor and being sad admittedly, but people came and checked on me and knew I was there.” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m a little annoyed that it became somewhat of an internet spectacle. Which is not on you at all and I’m sorry that it worried you.” The next question made her stomach turn. Even if she could tell Deirdre who she owed a promise too, she wasn’t even sure it’d be meant with kindness. In all of this, upsetting Deirdre had never been something she wanted to do, but it was obvious she cared for Lydia a good deal from the way she spoke to her at that funeral. Would it matter to her that it was her friend Lydia killed? Would it matter that it was her life she was putting in danger? Not all the werewolf hunters in town were Kaden and Rio. Transforming at the Common was sure to only end in disaster. She could feel her palms becoming clammy and the rapid thudding of her heart. Crying was tempting, but she had to put on a brave face. She’d only worry Deirdre for no reason. Well, there was reason to worry, but she wasn’t sure she could even drop the right hints for her to figure it out. If her figuring out would even be a good thing. “It’s-- Maybe,” she started realizing that the indefinite answer didn’t cause the same pain to shoot up her leg, “I appreciate that, but I’m not really able to say much. I think I may be taking care of it before anything too bad can happen. I mean, I did do something stupid that I don’t think you’d necessarily approve of, but I can’t really… Even if it’d upset you, I’d tell you if I could. I respect you too much to ever lie to you.”

If her stomach could sink all the way into the ground, Ariana was sure it would. There was no way she could in good conscience tell Deirdre she was safe with what she had to do. Her mouth felt impossibly dry and she found herself focusing her gaze on Moira for a moment to calm herself. She thought over what to say. She didn’t want Deirdre to worry more, but she wanted to be honest with her. At least about this. “I think I will be,” she answered in a tone that sounded more hopeful than she felt. “I’ve got some stuff to figure out, but I believe it’ll go well.” Maybe she was riding on this spell of Nell’s a little too much, but she had to believe it would work. The alternative was too bleak. She couldn’t help but laugh at the part about Blanche. She did have a knack for finding trouble. “I do my best to stay safe, even when helping others. I don’t think I have quite the same knack Blanche does for finding trouble if that makes you feel any better.”

“Medium friend?” Deirdre raised a brow. “Do you know someone else besides Blanche?” Were there other mediums in town? Like some group of ghost-gawkers, huddling around tea to discuss the headless man by the convenience store? Truthfully, she still didn’t understand the purpose of mediums. Even as Blanche explained her goals of helping ghosts pass on. She’d been seeing and hearing the damn things since she was eight, and it’d always been a ‘toss salt and get it over with’ kind of deal. Or a, ‘don’t look your dead uncle in the eyes, dear’. “Well, I’m sorry your friend died.” She took another sip of her wine, refilling it as Ariana went on. “It’s not so bad that people were worried about you, Ariana,” Deirdre chuckled, “enough to be so nosy about it. So many people in this town go missing and…” She paused, the wine in her cup rose, threatening to spill free before she shook her head and set the bottle down. “...I’d hate it if you ended up like them.” And she’d hate it more, if her next scream happened to be Ariana’s. That was the risk she ran as a banshee, a risk that never was her concern before she started caring about people. In some way, she wondered if she should have been taking her own teachings better. But she couldn’t, with a clear mind, cast Ariana away. She didn’t want to. Deirdre frowned and looked up. “There are very few things that upset me.” She held her glass close to her. “The harm of a fae or someone I care about, is one. ‘Pull’ doors that should really be ‘push’ is another.” She smiled. She couldn’t imagine what it was she wouldn’t approve of, but at Ariana’s age, with her experience, most things must have seemed terribly dire. “No matter what it is you’ve done, Ariana, you have your place here.”

But there was still something that tugged uncomfortably at Deirdre. Ariana clearly wasn’t able to speak the entire truth, but something beyond that felt...worrying. A knot twisted in her stomach, lump in her throat. Ariana couldn’t even tell her that she’d be safe. She knew, better than anyone else, that doing the most wasn’t always enough. It hadn’t saved Morgan. And it probably wouldn’t save Blanche one day either, who found trouble like magnet. So, what would it mean for Ariana? “How would you like to die, Ariana? What would you like to be done, in your death?” Her gaze narrowed. “I know that sounds odd, I know other cultures don’t think of this so frequently but...as a banshee...it’s something I’d like to know. If you were going to die tomorrow, what would you like to do? What would you want to be done for you?”

“Oh no, just Blanche… I guess unless you count my friend Connor who’s an exorcist? That’s not really a secret since he has a whole YouTube channel dedicated to it,” Ariana answered uneasily. What if she asked Blanche questions? Would it make her situation better or worse? There was so much uncertainty with this whole situation that left her feeling constantly stressed. It was difficult to hide and pretend like it wasn’t there. There was no denying that the role she played in Sammy’s death left her feeling immobilized on even the best of days, but she was trying to push through it. “I won’t say it’s okay, nothing about how he died was okay, but I guess this stuff just sort of happens.” She looked down at her lap and couldn’t help but think she wished it would stop happening to her. How much more loss could one person take in such a short span of time? It’d been so long since she felt okay. Since she felt like she didn’t have to fill every minute of the day to keep herself from falling of the metaphorical ledge. Now she simply found she could hardly even go through the motions. They all felt so terribly exhausting and it showed. Deirdre was no fool and could likely see the bags under her eyes. Make out the way her smile never quite reached her eyes anymore. See the way her movements seemed slower now. As Deirdre spoke, she knew she made a point. The ones she cared for were the only thing pushing her through this. “I know, and I appreciate all of them. I just think drawing attention to me online wasn’t the smartest of plans. Thankfully, I don’t have much in the way of hunter problems anymore, but still, I always worry about how quickly that could change.” All it took was Adam finding out she turned someone or killed Celeste’s dad. This whole peace she had tried to build between two worlds was so fragile. She felt so fragile. “I do get it though. Things happen in this town and people want to know-- Morgan mentioned maybe setting up a little automatic response for when I don’t feel up to talking to people. I think it could be a good idea.”

Instead of trying to answer something she knew would only result in pain, Ariana simply leaned back into the couch and looked up at the ceiling momentarily. Did turning Sammy into a werewolf count as harming Lydia? She wasn’t actually hurt and the promise she was cashing in on was much more dangerous to Ariana than anything she’d done to Lydia. She wished she could just talk it over with Deirdre. Know where they really stood one way or the other. The next question hit her like a ton of bricks. Ariana had no idea how she wanted to die or what she wanted to happen in her death. For someone who was quick to rush into danger, she hadn’t given it much thought. Now, it just felt paralyzing. Would there be any hunters hanging around the Common? Surely, they’d be out in the Outskirts. “I haven’t really put too much thought into it,” she answered with her hands clasped firmly in her lap. “If I have to die, I’d like to die protecting the ones I love. What comes after, I haven’t thought of too much. Maybe put my ashes at the same tree we have marked for Celeste. Kaden knows where it is. I know you two know each other though I’ve gathered you’re not necessarily big fans of each other. Once Ulf is back, he could show you, too. If it was needed, that is. Hopefully it’s not. I appreciate you asking. What about you? Is there anything special that’s done for banshees or that’s important to you?”

Deirdre wouldn’t presume to know who Connor was, or whatever kind of YouTube videos he must have been making---it seemed to her that the platform was exclusively carved out for videos of cats. Did he make videos about cat ghosts? Were there even cat ghosts? Deirdre frowned and took a sip of her wine. “Not an okay death? Do you know who did it? Perhaps there might be justice to be delivered.” It wasn’t her business, certainly, but she extended the offer to murder out of curtesy. It was the polite thing to say. Though she was wholly willing to commit the crime herself, if it would bring Ariana and her friend some manner of peace. Ariana seemed wrecked by it, tired, anxious, unlike herself. Murder was the least Deirdre could offer. “Well, perhaps, but I’ll have you know that I haven’t attracted a single warden yet. And I do dangle myself online. It’s quite boring, in fact.” Deirdre smiled, trying to relieve some of Ariana’s worry---she was right to be cautious, given her history, but that didn’t mean Deirdre liked seeing it. “Oh,” Deirdre laughed, “yes, Morgan’s done that a few times. A simple copy and paste ‘hey, I don’t feel like talking; don’t ask me about it’ seems to be convenient.” She shook her head. “But you know people who care that much about you are going to bother you about it anyway.”

Finishing her second glass of wine, Deirdre set it aside in the interest of not downing too much at once. “For you?” She leaned back, “I’d brave talking to Kaden. But I’d expected more...I don’t know…’eating ice cream’ or ‘finally getting to set a house on fire’.” By comparison, Ariana’s death wishes were...shockingly plain, and horrifyingly practical given her age. “Me?” She glanced around the house, a dour expression pulled on her face. “I’ve already got that figured out. And my family knows how I’d like my body to be taken care of but…” She turned to Ariana, brows furrowed and hands squeezed into fists. “But I wouldn’t accept death, not where I am now.” The blasphemy of her sentence was probably lost on Ariana, and so she shook her head and pushed her question. “I’d just--as a banshee, we discuss this frequently. And I care about you, Ariana, and if I were to scream for you today...I’d like to know what you’d want me to do. This is...this is the best I can offer.” It was the highest mark of loyalty and love among them to usher a friend into death.

More than anything, Ariana just wanted to come clean to Deirdre. All this understanding and caring she was being shown felt wrong given it was Lydia who she was at odds with. There is no way Deirdre would be implying justice or revenge if she knew who it would be against. After all Deirdre had done for her, it didn’t feel right for her to be offering this advice and kindness given the circumstances. At most, all she could expect if Deirdre knew was to try and get her out of the promise. She’d have more sway with Lydia than she would. As it stood, she couldn’t say much. She simply nodded and answered, “I do, but I don’t think justice is the answer. I don’t think you’d believe it is either if you knew more about the situation.” That was as truthful as she was able to be. It wasn’t enough, but it was as much she could give Deirdre without putting herself through excruciating pain. Deirdre’s next statement did little to comfort her. She was sure Deirdre knew what she was doing, but she couldn’t help but picture something bad happening to her or Athena as a result of their meeting. It made her stomach turn and acid feel like it was rising up in her throat. She swallowed it back and said, “If you say so. I trust you know how to handle yourself. I’d just rather not deal with more hunters who want me dead, personally. Then again, that was kind of my whole life up until a few months ago.” At what cost did that game of cat and mouse finally end? It hardly seemed worth it, but there was no changing it. At the mention of Morgan, it was easier to laugh along with Deirdre. She could see Morgan doing that. “People who love you will always worry, but I think it’s a good idea to put that message out there so no one thinks you’re dead. I’ll have to adopt that the next time something terrible happens.” It seemed cynical, but it was an inevitability. She seemed to constantly be losing people. There was no avoiding the grief that followed.

Ariana let out a small laugh as she said, “Well, thank you. He’s really not that bad. I know you two don’t really like each other, which I kind of get. You’re very different, but you’re both important to me and have shown me a great deal of kindness.” A thought dawned on her and she blurted out, “You know, he makes really good pie.” Deirdre loved pie. It was part of how they became close was all the pies she made her. She quickly added, “I don’t know, setting a house on fire could be fun depending on whose house it is. I prefer venison to ice cream. So, I guess protecting people just seems natural. It’s something I already do and I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how I end up going out one of these days.” Hopefully it was later rather than sooner, but she wouldn’t know until it happened. Deirdre would get a warning which had to be difficult, but she trusted she’d do what she could to give her the death she wanted. “I am glad your family knows your plan. Hopefully it’s a long time before it goes into place.” She shook her head, it felt odd discussing all of this, but she knew it had to be natural for Deirdre given she was a banshee. Death touched their lives in different ways though Ariana grew tired of the death that seemed to follow her. She nodded along. “That makes sense with being a banshee. I appreciate that you’d give me what I’d like after my death. Being with Celeste again when that time comes is important to me.”

It was strange to hear justice--murder--wasn’t the answer. Murder was usually the answer, and where it wasn’t, it was always great consolation. Deirdre frowned, but didn’t press the point. Ariana was young, and perhaps some bit foolish, and maybe she didn’t think of murder as liberally as Deirdre did. “Oh,” Deirdre’s frown deepened, “your life is always going to be running away from hunters. That’s--” She gulped, stopping herself. Ariana must have known this, but more than this, it wasn’t the comfort she wanted to be offering. If there existed a world of peace, she wanted to believe Ariana could find it. Life was cynical enough, Ariana didn’t need Deirdre’s pessimism too. And though she hated Kaden, she lunged at the opportunity to talk about his pie instead of the futility of peaceful life. “Is it?” She feigned surprise. The one pie she’d seen that day he tumbled down the stairs was pretty nice, maybe she’d bother him to send her one. “I--uh--” And then it occurred to her that talking about death plans also wasn’t comforting; not to most people, anyway. Ariana seemed almost fatigued by it, and the more Deirdre looked at her and listened, the worse she felt about the topic. “You know...there is something I’ve always wanted to do...I think, well, what can be good about figuring out what you want to do before you die is...that you can do it right now.” She grinned. “There’s no need to wait until a scream to knock old dreams off your bucket list.” She gestured to herself, and then to her TV, “you see, I’ve always wanted to say I was better than Ariana at The Mario’s Kart.” She paused. “I bought the Kart of Mario to play with you. Like the children do. So we could have fun?” if anyone needed fun, she figured it was the girl who’d gone through too much, lived too quickly. Ariana might not have seen herself as young, but Deirdre certainly did, and according to the store clerk, this is what kids did. “Come yeet the Mario’s Kart with me, fam?”

#wickedswriting #c: ariana #chatzy #life death and mario kart #// deirdre's leaky faucet might be fixed #but my leaky eyes were not

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

Onion Tears || Morgan, Ariana, Deirdre, Lydia

TIMING: The recent past, not long after Morgan took care of the murderous alchemist Jo, before Lydia’s attack.

LOCATION: The woods

PARTIES: @deathduty @inspirationdivine @letsbenditlikebennett @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and her friends mourn the dead.

CONTAINS: Mild gore, ritualized self-harm

The moon smiled down from the pink sunset sky, pale and slight as a white shadow. Morgan hoped that if there really was such a thing as a caring universe, it approved of the proceedings. The much decayed remains of Coraline Adams had been wrapped in a cotton shroud and bundled onto the wood pyre, the rest of the remains recovered from the storage unit were strewn around her. In another world where supernaturals could bury their dead properly without raising brows or suspicions, there might have been separate ceremonies and rites for each of them. But the alchemist hadn’t cared enough to label her specimens by the person she gathered them from, only by material. Banshee nails in one jar. Nix scales in another. Vampire teeth, Mara eyes, wolf pelts, and fused bones, all ordered except in a way that would help Morgan make them into people again. Morgan circled the clearing again for unwanted mushrooms and teenagers daring each other to go deeper into the trees. Gulls squealed, squirrels foraged, life went on. But there had been enough of humans bumping and breaking their way through life for one stretch. Morgan wanted to give them a reprieve from watching their backs all the time, and for the dead to have a moment with their own.

She spread out a tiered tray of refreshments, kindling, and the nice big matches she had once used for her own sacred rituals, scented to help guide what was left of the dead’s souls to wherever they needed to go. It felt wrong, somehow, to slip into a hospitality mindset, but if Ariana and Lydia were going to help witness the rites and pay their respects as much as anyone could, they might as well be comfortable.

One of their guests approached the clearing. “Hey, we’re almost ready,” she said.”But you should come in and have some water or wine if you want any.”

Hearing of another dead werewolf only made her heart feel heavier. After Ariana had discovered werewolves were being killed for their organs, it only furthered her sense of unease to know someone else was doing weird magic experiments. What the actual fuck was wrong with people? It wasn’t something she could wrap her head around, but she hoped paying them respects would help them find peace in their afterlife. The setting sun painted the sky in colors she couldn’t quite distinguish, but the moon was rising. Perfect for the wolf of the bunch, All the fellow supernatural beings who had been killed for whatever this witch was doing deserved better. Maybe they couldn’t change the past, but they could try to keep their memory alive. Help them find peace. She walked to their meeting spot and saw Morgan was the first one there. Not at all surprising. There were even refreshments set up though she found she wasn’t entirely hungry at the moment. She gave a small wave as she approached, “Hey, Morgan. I’ll pour some water for myself. Save the wine for Deirdre. She really loves wine.” The words felt awkward and it was hard to navigate through what she was feeling.

Lydia almost paused when she saw Ariana, the wannabe thief that had been snooping through her property that one time. Mutual friend or not, Lydia did not like the girl in the slightest, even at a funeral. As such, she immediately decided to ignore her for the whole evening, walking over to Morgan with a small smile. “Wine would be lovely. I’m grateful you put in all the effort.”

Morgan opened her arm out to the young wolf when she arrived and wrapped her up in a hug. “That she does,” she agreed. “But, tiny exceptions can be made for you if you change your mind after. Thanks for coming.” She didn’t know what else to say, if wolves had a kind of kinship between each other that made condolences appropriate, or if it was just the chill of seeing the remains of someone who could have been her.

At the sound of Lydia’s approach, she released Ariana to hydrate herself and turned to her fae friend. “I’m glad you came,” she said, pouring a glass and carrying it over. “This is the least I could do. If things were different, maybe there’d be more. But if things were different, maybe there wouldn’t be a need for this kind of service in the first place.” Her eyes flitted to the pyre, gauging the arrangement of the remains. Should she space them out more? Or arrange them more artfully? The nails should probably be laid out, instead of clustered, maybe… Morgan stopped herself with a tight smile. It did not matter. It absolutely did not matter. She knew better than anyone how much it didn’t matter, knew that it was just the last moment, terrible or not, and then sleep. This was just for their own guilt and sorrow, their own intentions in the universe. “Deirdre’s just getting ready to perform the rites. And I’ll spread the ashes myself later. Oh, and you should meet our friend Ari! She’s here in honor of the wolves we’re laying to rest today as well.”

Somehow, despite her cool skin, Morgan always had a certain warmth to her. It brought a small smile to her face and Ariana welcomed the hug from her. Once she stepped back, she laughed weakly and answered, “I think I’ll be okay without the wine. But I am sorry you had to find all of this. It’s really… Upsetting.” She looked down at her feet and heard someone else approaching. Sniffing the air she realized it wasn’t Deirdre, but it was familiar. Her eyes widened when she realized it was Lydia. Her heart sank. The actual last person she wanted to see. Especially at a funeral. Especially when she was slowly killing someone she’d grown to care for. It took a conscious effort to keep from balling her fists, from glaring. Today wasn’t about Lydia. Hell, it wasn’t even about Ace. It was their duty to honor the fallen members of their community in hopes of them being able to find some sort of peace after their violent deaths. “Maybe one day there won’t be a need for services like this,” she said quietly. Part of her wanted to slink away as Morgan introduced her to Lydia. It was hard to pretend she didn’t hate her with every fiber of her being. It was doubtful that her feeding had to include keeping humans for prolonged periods of time until they finally died. Through gritted teeth, she responded, “We know each other already.” She tried to soften her features, but it came across a bit awkward. “But thank you, Morgan. I really appreciate you and Deirdre for doing all of this.”

Deirdre knew better than most what a fae funeral should have looked like. There should have been more in attendance, the sound of instruments trilling through the air under the sound of sombre lilting. She had whispered her apologies to Coraline’s body on the way to the clearing, and she whispered it by her again. This observance would have to be stripped, for the sake of safety--the fae could not be made privy to the horrors committed, their penchant for vengeance would prove too reckless. And the other supernatural reduced to their parts had practices and rites that Deirdre wasn’t the faintest bit familiar with. She pulled at her funeral dress---once white, now stained with the soot of every funeral she’d attended---was a muddy grey, patterned in blotches. The delicate lace detailing was a stark black, and the only thing about the dress she liked. Deirdre tugged at it again, then pulled her dark robe tighter around her, trying not to drop the rod of iron she held wrapped up in cloth in one hand, and the knife she had in the other. She slipped the rod back into the pocket of her robe, and approached the rest of the group silently. “There will always be a need for services like this,” she hissed, irritable under the stress of autumn. Irritable given the event they were all in attendance for. She would apologize to Ariana for her shortness later, but for now, she didn’t bother. “No matter what this world is. There will always be death, and where there is death, there is suffering.” She nodded towards Lydia, and noted Ariana’s tenseness. “You’re supposed to drink at these things. Like Lydia.” She spoke almost with an air of resentment, an air that reared itself now, and had neglected to show on the way over. The forest held the faint drift of mushrooms, she would explain to Morgan later in apology, but for now, she didn’t bother. For now, she wasn’t happy. “You’re supposed to do a lot of things…” Deirdre sighed, “are we good to start?”

“We met through one of her pack members, as it happens,” Lydia replied airily, much better at faking politeness that Ariana did, the little minx. She was practically showing the whole world how much she disliked Lydia, when Lydia was the one who had been trespassed on! She hadn’t been the most enthusiastic at Ariana’s soccer game, but then who would have been? She hadn’t earned this animosity in the slightest. Noting Morgan’s tight smile as the way her gaze flitted around the pyre, Lydia tilted her head in genuine concern. “How are you holding up, Morgan?” The person Lydia was really interested in, though, was Deirdre, in her murky grey dress and her dark robe. She looked irritable in the same way that Lydia’s chest ached every time she glanced at the pyre. Her comment to Ariana was strange, certainly, even more so with that tone, and Lydia couldn’t help but gravitate closer to her. “I think so, my dear,” she said softly, standing at Deirdre’s side.

Morgan gave Deirdre a look as she chastised their young friend. You’re doing it again. Bring it down. She had been warned about what the forest might do to her banshee this time of year, and on some of their walks she had grown peevish, but Ariana was special to both of them and-- Morgan put the thought aside. Fucking mushrooms. She gave Ariana’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’re doing everything just fine,” she said softly. “Don’t mind her today,” she added in a whisper. She smiled with relief and gratitude at Lydia, who was handling the pull of the mushrooms much better. Two grumpy fae were more than she wanted to contend with. “Well as can be expected. My condolences to you and your people.” She did not know if all fae believed as banshees did, that there was nothing after except the comfort of darkness and nothing, or if it would make anything better for Lydia to know that’s just what she’d experienced before she came back. Smiling again--she didn’t know what else to do--Morgan sidled up to Deirdre’s other side. She touched her arm gently for a moment and nodded. “We’re good, babe,” she said.

In the past, Deirdre had always discouraged her drinking as she was underaged and it left Ariana very confused. At least being left perplexed by Deirdre made it easier to ignore the fact she’d very much like to rip Lydia apart. She turned to Deirdre, eyebrows knit together in confusion, and answered, “Sorry? You usually don’t like me having alcohol since I’m underaged.” Then it was very apparent her words were entirely misinterpreted. Death would always be part of life and Ariana knew that, but against all reason, she had hope that maybe one day the supernatural and humans could coexist. “That’s not what I-- nevermind,” she began and decided against trying to explain herself. Today wasn’t about her. Today wasn’t about any of them. Today was for those who fell before their time in a manner that was far too cruel. It was a little easier to relax and let Deirdre’s odd behavior go with Morgan’s always comforting words. Somehow, she always knew just what to say. Even putting this whole thing together was something that seemed so incredibly… Morgan. She hugged her leather jacket around herself more tightly trying not to look to Lydia again. Trying to ignore her presence for Morgan’s sake more than anything else because surely she couldn’t interact with her and pretend like everything was fine. Not when she had Ace locked away in her home like that was just a totally okay thing for people to do. She wondered if Morgan and Deirdre even knew. She took a few steps towards the pyres and asked Morgan, “So how are we doing this?”

Deirdre grew angrier every time her eyes fell to Coraline’s wrapped body on the pyre, then as she glanced around at their empty funeral. Coraline died wrong, would she be honored that way too? Those people in jars; would their memory be the four people who dared to remember them? She boiled as Lydia moved to her side, reminded of what injustice she was committing to their community, and then how badly she wanted to ask how she’d met Ariana, exactly, and why the younger girl seemed so tense with her. I think Ariana is jealous of your beauty, she would offhandedly remark to Lydia later, finding it the only logical explanation. But if Lydia served as a reminder of all that she was doing wrong, Morgan was the opposite. Deirdre relaxed reflexively near her, anger dissipated. She took Morgan’s hand and squeezed it, then she took a step forward, glanced at Coraline’s body, and thought of everything that was wrong again. Her mind continued to plague itself with questions even as she pulled a large purple onion from her robe. “Normally, there’s a human sacrifice. Or--punching bag, if you will. So the fae can exact their anger, right the wrongs, have fun, harvest an arm to use at their next poker game---that sort of thing.” She shook the onion, the pupils of its misplaced googly eyes bobbled. The lips Deirdre had painted on were beginning to flake off. She hated this just as much as she thought it was stupid; which was very. “Considering humans and onions have about the same mental capacity, and taking into account our present company, I thought I’d forgo the human and just use this instead.” She held the onion out, “before I begin the ceremony, would anyone like to partake in hurting the sacrificial onion? And if you will please, just imagine it’s begging for its life and for you to stop. Which, coincidentally, is exactly how Coraline died.” She shook the onion again. “Any takers?”

In the mirrored district, for that poor, nameless Lampade, they had done this with the human. Lydia hadn’t taken a shot then - that kind of violence didn’t bring her any pleasure, it never had, and she’d been to more such funerals with the sacrificial onion in its place. Unfortunately, she had been to many funerals that required such a sacrifice in the first place. She looked to Deirdre, trying to read all the facets of her face right now, all that pain and anger, and the tension in her hand as she squeezed Morgan’s. Lydia wondered how often, exactly, Deirdre had had to do these rites. How much she’d seen while handling the body and these jars. “I’ll start,” Lydia said solemnly, taking the purple onion in her hands. She looked at the googly eyes and lips, the corner of her lips twitching. As far as she knew, the googly eyes were not tradition, but they did add a certain something to the proceedings. She shook the onion once, until the eyes were roughly pointed to her. Raising one hand, Lydia stabbed one googly eye with her golden acrylic nail. The eye popped off, lost into the woods. The onion skin crackled and crunched as she sank her nail deeper into the flesh of the onion, and then dragged it down, leaving a long slit in her nail’s wake. Lydia twisted her nail, and pulled up at the seam, tearing up the onion. She ate the onion parts she’d torn off the onion, as was tradition, and handed it back to Deirdre. “May Coraline find peace in this onion’s suffering.”

Morgan couldn’t name what it was about how Deirdre handled the sacrifice that filled her with pride and affection. Maybe it was the earnestness of the googly eyes and the painted lips, trying to fill this need for adequacy, for giving enough to the dead. Maybe it was the way she squeezed her hand, emerging from the haze of her grief and the mushrooms hiding deeper in the forest to be herself, to feel and to try when she felt some of these losses as if she’d known them herself. Whatever the reason, it was almost enough to make Morgan feel like this was going to be okay and everything had been fixed fair. She took the battered onion gently from Deirdre, fingers brushing hers, and cradled it against her chest a moment, the juice dripping down the front of her white cotton dress. Her thoughts were with the dead supernaturals, the comfort they could not have and the hours of pain they could not be saved from and the days of recovery that they could not get. She had to turn down towards her shadows to remember Jo. Remember how she’d thrashed in Miriam’s grip. How she had called them pigs. How close she had been to taking another supernatural who’d trusted her. And as she thought, she dug her hands deeper into the onion flesh. Deeper, as she tried to imagine what exactly Miriam had done to the woman, exactly how long she had lasted in the two days she was kept, and whether any of it was close to enough when there weren’t even enough remains left for separate pyres.

Half the onion exploded in her grip, spraying skin and juice and soft clumps of fresh into the air. They landed in her hair and dress, sprinkled down on the earth like rain. At any other time, Morgan would have been embarrassed, but it wasn’t that sort of occasion. She took a piece from the clumpy wreck in her hand and chewed it thoughtfully, wiping her face and hair from the mess. She held out the remnants for Ariana or Deirdre to have a turn with, murmuring, “May Coraline find peace in this onion’s suffering,” And in the suffering of her killer.

While Ariana wasn’t sure what to make of the customs Deirdre spoke of, she could definitely get behind murking an onion right now. Especially if it meant honoring the fallen fae, werewolves, and other supernatural creatures they had pieces of in the pyre. Now wasn’t the time to pay Lydia any mind at all. She didn’t deserve any of the focus that was intended for the deceased. Twigs cracked underneath her combat boots as she reached to take the mostly exploded onion from Morgan. The half that was still intact was now in her hands now. The googly eyes were long gone now, but the painted on lips were still half there. To honor the wolf here today, she’d have to embrace the wolf in herself. Not that this differed from any other day, but there was no pressure to live up to human norms around Deirdre and Morgan. A low growl echoed around their clearing and Ariana gave the onion a stern look before sinking her teeth ferociously into it. While she kept her human form, she mimicked the way she tore into a deer’s throat every full moon. She ripped away at the rest of the layers of the onion with her teeth, living bits and pieces on the floor. There was little care for the fact her black dress now smelled like onion. Onion juice dripped down her chin and she let it. A deer would be more appropriate, but she’d treat the onion with all the ferocity she had in her. Only small, jagged pieces of onion remained in her hands. Her gaze remained stony as she solemnly said, “May their memory and fierceness live on in all of us.”

Ariana looked to Deirdre momentarily before adding, “I’d like to add a bit of werewolf tradition in.” While she didn’t know the full ins and outs, Ulfric had explained his moon shrine to her as well as some of the aspects of the religion his pack back in Norway had followed. She looked up to the moon, softly glowing in the sky with sunset hues she couldn’t perfectly make out all around it. She raised her onion soaked hands and recited, “O Great Diana, goddess of the moon, night, and hunt-- please guide those who have fallen to peace. May they find enlightenment under the soft glow of moonlight from here on out.” It wasn’t perfect and she wasn’t sure she got the words right. Actually, she was positive she hadn’t. She made her own prayer loosely based on ones Ulfric had shared with her previously, but she hoped it helped their souls find peace in death.

What Deirdre hadn’t expected was the seriousness with which her admittedly idiotic sacrifical onion was taken with. She expected some resistance to which she could explain her train of thought: they couldn’t use an animal, because animals were inherently innocent and that would defeat the point. But she watched instead, humbled, by Lydia, Morgan and Ariana all harming an onion in Coraline’s name--she did imagine that an animal would have been tastier than a raw onion though. She reached out to pick bits of onion out of her girlfriend’s hair and off her nice dress. “Beautiful words, Ariana,” she smiled, having forgotten her earlier animosity. Funerals were not merited by their turn out, she remembered, but the compassion of those who did observe them. Odd as the onion was, Deirdre could only hope that Coraline would see three people who were angered for her, and desired to bring her peace. With her thoughts at peace again, she remembered why exactly she was here to begin with and her anger with herself disappeared. She had an onion to thank for that. The banshee shook her head, drawing her hand back from Morgan and pulling a small rod of iron wrapped up in thick wool out of her robe. “I think I can start now.” She stepped back and moved to the pyre. “Coraline Adams died at the hands of someone she trusted, her skin transmuted to iron,” she began, then tapped the jar with the banshee nails. “The two in here were tortured by a warden for forty-four days before they succumbed to their injuries.” Deirdre went on, listing the ways each part and piece had died, filling in names where she could and omitting gorier details out of respect. “Some of these people had died by Jo’s hand, others were simply her property by trade---bought or bartered otherwise. They will rest easier knowing Jo suffered as she should, and that no more harm can come from her. We remember their deaths.”

Deirdre turned back towards the other, rolling up her sleeve with one hand as the other unwrapped the iron rod carefully. She gripped the iron with her hand safely behind the wool, searching her forearm for the scar that seemed to grow every couple of years. She pressed the iron to it. “As the living, we will know their pain. And may they rest knowing that we carry it with us, and the pain of every injustice like this we cannot stop.” Her skin seared, blistering and peeling under the iron. Deirdre didn’t flinch and her face remained impassive. She would hold the iron there for as long as Coraline burned. “The house of winter is dark, and you may rest in its shadows. But your blood was spilled by the undeserving,” her voice dripped out steadily in Gaelic. “So I hold your pain in my heart, I hold it with my life. It is with each who watches me, each who knows. You can rest now, free from it. You can rest, by the decree of fate’s faithful, you can rest. The house of winter cherishes you now; to your home your body returns.” She pulled the iron away, bits of her skin were still stuck to it as she dropped the rod to the floor. Blood ran down her arm, dripping carelessly to the earth. She turned to Coraline’s body, dropping to her knees and pulling the cloth away from her face. “Take my blood for all that was taken from you.” She carefully lifted her head, delicately wrapping the wool around it before finally pulling her ceremonial knife out. There, she cut across her palm and dripped the blood on to the white cloth holding her body. Deirdre’s voice surrendered to a low hum, softly singing her family’s lament as she moved through each piece of the ceremony---from the wool wrappings to the cut palm. Eventually her singing trailed away, and she stepped back. “You can light it,” she told Morgan, “with any luck, her skull will be preserved enough to keep with the ashes. They can rest now.”

Deirdre had explained to Morgan what happened at a fae funeral and how it was her duty, as the officiant, to carry the pain of those who had died. She had known what the rod was for and how long it had to be held against Deirdre’s skin. But solemn discussions in the night didn’t come near to preparing her to see Deirdre’s skin melt off in red, gummy layers, steam rising from beneath. Nor was she prepared for the monstrousness of Deirdre’s silence. Her face looked like stone for all it moved, some hollow, unreal nightmare.

The burnt spot on Deirdre’s arm popped with heat and blood simmered and ran in thin sticky lines around the wound. Morgan had to cover her mouth to keep from screaming and running over to her. A muffled whimper escaped her lips and she clamped down harder, reaching for Ariana’s shoulder to keep herself still. This was part of a banshee’s role when a community was lucky enough to have one. This was what fae did for each other. Morgan knew this. She knew this. But she trembled with the urge to intervene as Deirdre cut her arm open, spilling more blood for the dead.

When she was called to light the fire, Morgan shuffled forward, fumbling for the long matches in her pocket. She had lit enough fires in her day, even without magic, to handle this with the kind of grace the situation asked for, but her arms were stiff and trembling. It took her three tries to get the end lit right. She held her gaze over the flame as it ate the wood one inch at a time and laid the flame over each bundle of kindling she’d laid on the pyre. She circled the structure til she came back to Coraline’s head. When it was done she flung the match into the blaze and stepped back, reaching for Deirdre. She slipped her arms around her waist and pressed them close together, her head resting on Deirdre’s chest. “I hope that was okay,” she whispered.

Ariana had never been to a fae funeral before and she had a bit of a hard time keeping a close eye on Deirdre. She couldn’t understand the parts that were in Gaelic, but she imagined there was some sort of explanation for why Deirdre had to put herself through physical pain for the ritual. Instead, she watched the pyres burned and wished that their souls would find peace. The circumstances surrounding their deaths had been bleak. More so than anything probably should have been, but more and more she was learning that’s just how the world worked. The smoke began swirling above them into the sky that was becoming darker now. The flames glowed around them and the smoke began to overtake the smell of the onion though she still tasted it on her lips. She remained silent as Deirdre continued on with the ceremony and refrained from wincing at Deirdre’s pain.

Lydia had last been to a funeral with a banshee officiant when she’d been a young child. While the human sacrifice (or onion sacrifice) was a common one, somehow, other species of fae were not as keen to take on pain in honouring the death. Lydia had only ever seen instead the damages transferred to a chicken. Deirdre was not a chicken, and she didn’t remember that childhood funeral right until the second Deirdre pulled out the iron bar. She steeled herself, staring at Coraline’sbody as Deirdre’s skin began to burn. If Deirdre wouldn’t flinch, nor would Lydia. It was an honour to suffer for the dead, as much so for the chicken as the Banshee. It wasn’t until Deirdre spoke, in a beautiful clear form of Gaelic that was so different to Lydia’s own tone, that a single tear rolled down her cheek. The witch’s death did not undo any suffering. It still lingered in the air, in their hearts, and in the skin on Deirdre’s arm that would take time to heal. When Deirdre’s voice dropped to a hum, Lydia found the rhythm and joined it too. The heat of the flame licked Lydia’s skin, uncomfortable without burning. She set in the fire five pieces of canvas, each made with ecstatic inspiration. So much that no image on them was legible, but for a funeral that was what was desired. Art in its purest, least dilute form. They burned, and in each carried the hope that the people cremated would find joy in the life hereafter. “Let nothing hold you to this earth. Your word has been kept, and you have been relinquished of what holds you here.”

It was a battle of wits and long limbs as Deirdre tried to navigate wrapping her arms around Morgan without getting blood on her. She was bleeding far too much for this to be accomplished, and so she remembered that white dresses were worn specifically to be sullied and she wrapped her arms around Morgan, staining her back with blood. "I think it was," she replied gently, "I think it really was." She bent down to kiss Morgan; first on her cheek, forehead, nose, before she eventually settled on her lips, capturing them for as long as she could. "Thank you," she mumbled as she lingered close. "For doing this. You really have brought them all peace, Morgan. I know it." There were no ghosts that lingered, and so it must have been true. "You did good, my vigilante zombie." She kissed her once more before she retreated, approaching Lydia and Ariana. "Your words were beautiful, and your voice is too. You should sing more," she smiled at Lydia, pulling her close—this time she took great care not to get blood anywhere, knowing Lydia didn't seem as strong-willed at the sight usually. She pressed a kiss to her temple and thanked her for giving that canvas, then for coming. The funeral was over, more or less, but Deirdre would stay until the flames died and help Morgan collect the ashes. She turned to Ariana next, forgetting whatever strangeness plagued her and Lydia earlier, or even her own actions. She wrapped her arms around the young girl, careful again with her bleeding arms. "And you, young wolf, have greatly honored us today. Thank you for sending that wolf to peace, and for observing the rest with us." She pressed a kiss to her temple too before releasing her. The funeral pyre grew steadily, the sound of cracking wood painting the air. The flowers laid atop did what they could for the smell, but to a wolf like Ariana it might not have mattered what they put. The funeral was over, technically, and all guests were free to leave—though this portion was usually colored with drinking and merriment. But watching the embers pop and disappear, the flames consuming all within with, she didn't think that they would. Not yet.

It wasn’t until Deirdre pulled her into her arms that Morgan released whatever she’d been holding onto of the dead girl she’d first found in a pile of garbage with Kaden, of everything she’d seen in that awful storage unit. For a moment, she could even release the unfairness of being supernatural in a world where your history and identity had to stay some stupid, deadly secret. For a moment, as the flames surged in the twilight evening, everything felt like it was enough. Morgan sagged into her banshee’s grip and hugged her back just as tight, kissed her just as long. The forest was quiet except for them. The birds, sensing something amiss, stayed away or else hid in their roosts. The deer watched from a safe distance and closed ranks around each other, grateful for another day to come. Morgan released her hold and watched Deirdre give her parting kisses to their friends, then followed behind to slip her arms over both of them at once. They came together easily, with only a few inches of height difference between them. Morgan held them tight in their group hug, murmuring, “Thank you, for doing this with us. And thank you for being my friends.” She pressed a kiss to each head and held them a moment longer. The moment was fading, the weight of the world beyond them pressing in as surely as the night. “You can sit with us and watch awhile? But I understand if you want to get back. I know someone still has a coaching gig in the morning.”

It was a relief to see that Deirdre no longer seemed annoyed with her though she didn’t love the sight of her bloodied. Ariana welcomed the hug and told her, “Thank you to both you and Morgan for putting this together. I like to think it helped all of them find peace.” Her voice was wistful as she continued to try and put her hopes for those lost out into the universe. When Morgan came over to her, she still kept her features gentle. There was no use to acknowledge Lydia at this point. The moon was higher in the sky now and the stars twinkling above the smoke that was still present in the air. “Of course,” Ariana started before she realized what Morgan was doing. Her stomach flipped and her entire body tensed up despite their now serene surroundings. Morgan was pulling her and Lydia into a group hug and she wanted to rip herself away, but Morgan didn’t deserve that. She was actually pretty sure Morgan had no idea just who Lydia really was. Being fae was one totally cool thing. Keeping people you fed from hostage in your home-- totally different ball game. Lydia was nothing but a glorified serial killer in high heels that had someone very dear to Ariana trapped in her home. It left her feeling disgusted as she awkwardly let herself be enveloped in the hug. She did her best to keep close to Morgan, but she could still feel Lydia’s body against her own. Ugh. It was hard to ignore the discomfort and urge to fight, but she did. This wasn’t the time or place. Still, it left her skin crawling even as she pulled away. Even though she hadn’t been sleeping well, Lydia being out of the house meant maybe she could see Ace tonight. “If I didn’t have such an early day with the kids tomorrow, I’d definitely hang around, but I’ll come by soon. I do believe I owe Deirdre a strawberry rhubarb pie,” she said with a grin before offering a final wave and getting the hell away from Lydia.

“I’ll sing more with you,” Lydia replied softly, taking Deirdre’s healthy hand for a quick moment, a gesture meant just for the two fae women, only for Deirdre to pull her into a hug a moment later, and Lydia squeezed her back tightly, for as long as she was allowed before Deirdre moved on to Ariana. She turned to the flames and didn’t look away from them until Morgan’s arms slipped around her. “Oh!” She gasped, suddenly pulled tight against two of her favourite people and an annoying brat. She hugged Morgan back at the very least, and smiled as they were let go. “I’ll stay-“ she was cut off by Ariana’s quick reply and equally quick disappearance. She eyed the young girl until she was out of sight and sighed. Shaking her head, she looked back at the others. “I’ll stay and sit for a while.”

Morgan gave Ariana one last squeeze as she departed. She floated slowly to the ground by the wine service with the two fae, pressed in close to Deirdre. Around them, smoke fine as mist rolled through the air, carrying the smell of char and death with it. The smell was so rich it penetrated the haze around Morgan’s senses. As she breathed it in, she imagined that the dead were with her and knew her in a way most of the living could not. Morgan looked into the fire with its blinding yellow core, with its desperate hunger. Was their rest in the pop of flesh going up in smoke or the cooling of the bones? Was it when the smoke kissed the tops of the trees, or when the embers died? If the dead had the answers, they couldn’t give it to her. Morgan huddled closer to Deirdre, stretching a hand out for Lydia as well, squeezing her hand. If peace was something the universe granted to zombies, it would be something she had to make for herself.

#onion tears #wr chatzy #wr deirdre chatzy #wr ariana chatzy #wr deirdre #wr ariana #wr lydia #wr lydia chatzy #self harm tw #self-harm tw #wickedswriting

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zahneundklauen-retired · 3 years

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Lead And I Will Follow || Ariana and Alcher

TIMING: Sometime after Alcher got back from dreamland (Current-ish) PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett and @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: Alcher and Ariana discuss what the future might hold and how the present might unfold. CONTENT: None!

It was hard to know, now, what was real and what wasn’t. And while Alcher hadn’t seen Klaus since she’d “woken up”-- but oh did she wish to, oh how she wanted to-- she still wasn’t sure she could truly trust anything she was seeing. Was this bench real? Was the farm real? Was the figure coming up the drive real? Her sense had never failed her before, but she hadn’t even realized who it was until she could see them in front of her. Ariana. But even reaching out to touch the girl couldn’t prove she was real, could it? And so Alcher waited, watching her with tired eyes. The bags that had grown under them showed off the lack of sleep the older wolf was getting, and the creaking of her joints reminded her of how long it had been since she’d changed. She felt stiff, solid, frozen. Her head always hurt. Her chest felt empty. She hadn’t told a soul what had happened in that dream world, the shame wrought inside of her like a poison-- not even Ulfric. She wanted to be strong for her new pack, but how could she remember her love for them when she could not feel her old family’s? Blinking away the thoughts, she stood up from her spot on the bench outside to greet the young pup. “It’s good to see you,” she said with a ghostly smile, “it’s been a while. Have you reconsidered living here at all?”

The farm had quickly begun to feel like a second home of sorts. It wasn’t quite a cabin in the woods, but Ariana found she felt at ease there all the same. It was definitely more spacious than her apartment and Alcher and Ulf always seemed more than happy to have her there. In theory, moving in would have been easy, but as it stood, she realized Alcher didn’t even really know about Celeste let alone Athena. Or her friendship with Rio and Kaden. Then again, had they not had a good talk after everything with Adam? It was hard for her to wrap her head around. This living squarely in between two worlds wasn't easy, especially when she was in a spiral of doubting her own ability to truly help anyone. Her own worries seemed to slip away as she made her way up to the farm. Alcher... did not look good. If she was going to be frank about it, she might even say Alcher looked like shit. Her limbs and eyes both seemed heavy. It even took her longer than normal to acknowledge who was approaching when she was normally so sharp. Just in time, Alcher was up to greet her and Ariana offered a smile. “It’s good to see you too,” she said with a slightly quirked brow, “I haven’t. The place looks great and I love you guys, but I couldn’t imagine leaving Athena. It’s… well different kind of love and all. Doesn’t mean I won’t be by all the time.” She gave Alcher a slight nudge, but still couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t quite right. “How are you doing? You look… tired.”

“Ah, yes, your new, er--” Alcher started, but lately she’d been forgetting more and more English words. It was supposed to be a simple one. “Freundin, partner.” That was what Ulfric had told her she and him were, and it had warmed her heart. She hoped Ariana felt the same with her Athena. “I take it she is treating you well, then? And you her?” she motioned for Ariana to come sit with her, sliding an arm around her shoulders. The height difference between them seemed less so now when her body hung her so heavy she slouched. As they sat, Alcher moved with great effort, leaning back with a sigh of relief once she was down again. Usually her body healed quickly, but she supposed super healing didn’t apply to a body that was damaged in another realm. Perhaps the ink that had swallowed them was still in her lungs, her heart, her veins. “I am...dealing,” she answered. It was the only answer she had. Perhaps Ariana was not even real, and Alcher was simply having another conversation with her own consciousness. She shook the thought away and reached out to squeeze Ariana’s hand, grounding herself in this reality. “I can not really begin to describe what happened, it’s as if it was really just a dream…” her voice tapered off as her eyes glossed over slightly. A beat later and she blinked, coming back to herself. “It was not without consequence, though. But,” she turned to look at Ariana, “I am home and I am alive, and that counts for something.” It had to, otherwise everything she’d sacrificed would be for nothing.

“Freudin,” Ariana repeated slowly, “Girlfriend, but partner also works. More general and suits everyone, you know?” There was still something about any of the words that excited her still. While they had settled into a comfortable routine together, there was a certain magic to it all. How even her heaviest moments seemed lighter somehow. “Yes, we’re treating each other well. Supporting each other and all that. It’s been nice.” There was only a slight hint of a blush on her cheeks that faded just as quickly as her head tilted. Alcher’s response was arguably more of a nonanswer that left her wanting answers. It was likely that Alcher didn’t want to put any problems on her, but she couldn’t help but wonder. Couldn’t help but want to help before that familiar sinking feeling rose up in her. Help. Something she longed so much to give yet whenever she tried, she only seemed to make things worse. No, this wasn’t about her and wasn’t time to sink back into those darker feelings that kept creeping back to the surface no matter how hard she tried to push past them and remind herself that trying was always worth the pain. “Dealing,” she said slowly as she tried to formulate how to approach this, “A dream? Can you try… to, you know, describe it?” Whatever had Alcher in this state, she definitely wanted to know about it though she wished she realized something was up sooner. Alcher was always so quick to offer help to her, it felt like that should go both ways. “It does count, for a lot, but so does whatever you went through.”

“Good,” Alcher said, patting Ariana’s leg, “good. You deserve someone who can make you happy like that. As long as she’s treating you well.” Her voice trailed off a moment, as if she were contemplating something. “That’s all that matters.” She turned her head to look at Ariana and wondered if, perhaps, she’d completely lost it, and this version of the girl was a conjuring of her own imagination. How would she be able to tell? Sure, she could smell Ariana, and hear the sound of her voice, and even see the blurry shape of her figure beside her, but if her senses could have been tricked once before, why not again? She simply let out a breath and closed her eyes, trying to remember as best she could. “I promise you, Ariana, I am not trying to...minimize what I went through, but it is not your responsibility to pick me up from it,” she opened her eyes to look at her again. “I want to be the best I can be for you and while that may take some time to get back to, I will get there. You need just look out for you and make sure you are doing your best.” She would not want to look so weak as to need to lean on her pups. No, she had Ulfric for her more immediate needs, and others for her more difficult ones.

“I’m inclined to agree with you, but I think most people deserve someone like that in their life,” Ariana agreed with a slight shrug. Hell, a little bit of love could make a hell of a lot of a difference for most. Alcher may have had her own thoughts on that, but it was hard to gauge. Where Ariana was an open book, Alcher seemed to keep her troubles close to her heart. She trusted Alcher, she had earned that much, but she wished she’d show a bit of vulnerability. Wolves had the pack so no one had to be strong all the time. There was a slight frown on her face as Alcher spoke and she looked down at her lap momentarily to refrain from letting out a sigh. “It’s not about whether it’s my responsibility. I care about you. If there’s anything I can do to help, I want to do it,” she explained earnestly. If she really thought about it, she could understand Alcher’s tendency to be a bit more reserved with her troubles, but emotion ruled and she found herself pressing for that trust she put in the older wolf to be returned. “You already are,” she insisted, “It’s not- your best isn’t something that stays the same, okay? It’s always changing and right now you’re at your best given whatever you’ve gone through. Maybe I can’t change what happened, but I can be here now. And pr- assure that I’m staying out of trouble on my end. But we’re wolves, we’re here for each other. It’s kind of our thing.” She reached to give Alcher’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Maybe she was pushing too hard, but after everything Alcher had done for her, the least she could do was offer some support.

“Hmmmm…” Alcher hummed quietly, contemplating. “Yes, most people do.” She wondered if she did. She wondered if she deserved what she did have. If she couldn’t even protect her family, how could she protect a pack? Were any of the packs she’d helped better off now? Was Cain’s pack doing okay? She wondered if they would welcome her back. She wondered if they missed her. She missed them, sometimes. Her mind came back to the little wolf sitting next to her and she blinked. She frowned, furrowed her brow. “I...would not even know what to ask of you, Ariana,” she admitted quietly, “because I do not know what I need.” For the first time in her life, she had no idea what she needed. There was no vengeance left, no stain on her past, no family to hold. There was just-- this. A farm, a pack, a partner. She wanted a family. So, perhaps, she did know what she needed. “You’ve always been so strong, Ariana,” she said then, turning to look at her. She appreciated the gentle touch, the reassuring stare. “The others look up to you, you know. They’ll need your help. I can only give them so much.” She would give them her entire body, soul and mind and all, if they asked. “RIght now I think I need you to...be there for them, while I can’t. I want this place to be...a home for them. I’d like to think it could be full one day.” She turned her wistful gaze out onto the land that stretched towards the horizon, and the treeline. “Ulfric wants that, too.”

Ariana found she admired Alcher’s quiet strength. The way she carried herself always had a hint of pride to it. Life hadn’t been easy for either of them, but if Alcher persevered through it all, maybe she could too. Even on the days she wasn’t so sure she could. It was evident the elder wolf still carried pain close to her heart. Maybe it wasn’t something she felt inclined to share, but in its way, it made Alcher easier to relate to. Even this wolf, who in her mind had been relentlessly fierce and almost untouchable, had moments of vulnerability. Even if they weren’t shared with her, it was a good reminder to stay strong. To keep pushing. “That’s okay,” she responded gently, “It’s not always easy figuring out what you need. But for what it’s worth, I’m here and I care.” Ariana decided being there was what she could do. Alcher was so determined to help wolves all around the world, so she could be here. She could be strong. She could help Luis and Damien even if the latter fought tooth and nail to keep her at arm’s length. She found herself looking up as Alcher spoke of her strength and how the others looked up to her. It was nice to hear. “You are too-- strong that is,” she said easily, “And I’ll do my best for the others, too. I think Luis could use somewhere to call home. Hell, I bet if Damien pulled his head out of his ass for all of thirty seconds, he’d like that, too.” There was a bit of a laugh as she spoke of Damien. Annoying him had become a bit of a hobby for her, but she had the feeling she was getting under his skin. It made that dream they shared that much more achievable. She smiled softly. “I think one day, we’ll all be here together roasting meat over an open fire and just… laughing. Singing. Enjoying ourselves. And that’s because of you and Ulf.”

“It is worth so much,” Alcher reassured Ariana, giving her a pat on the hand. And it was. She would not lie about that, even to make a pup feel better. Ariana was so much stronger than the rest of them, her resolve so unshaken. She knew the girl had been through a lot, but it showed, and she proved herself time and time again that she had a good head between her shoulders. Her only fault laid with the humans and hunters she so desperately protected. But Alcher didn’t have the energy-- nor the will-- the fight that battle right now. It could come later, when she was better. When things were back to normal. If that ever happened. “Luis is...so lost,” she sighed. The poor boy was going to run himself to death if he kept thinking his wolf was a disease that he could find a cure for. She was touched, though, that he tried so hard to connect with her. Damien, on the other hand, was left to his own devices. While she cared for all wolves, she could see the hate inside of him that would drive his path, and she could do nothing but offer him her guidance if he so wanted it. He was old enough to make his own choices. “I hope so, too,” she said, pulling her thoughts back to the present. “I think I’d like that.” She looked out across the farm and saw, in a momentary lapse, her brothers running free and wild across a field of lush green. Rolling, playing, laughing. She felt nothing for it, and emptier for that. “If you find something important, Ariana, hold onto it. Tighter than anything else. Okay?”

The reassuring gesture left Ariana feeling a little better about everything. She still worried for Alcher and whatever it is that she may have gone through recently, but better than most, she knew there was no changing the past. Sometimes just being there for people you cared for had to be enough even if you wanted to give them the world. There was a soft grin on her face as Alcher patted her hand. The breeze that picked up around them perfectly mirrored the gentleness of the moment and carried with it the smell of new life coming into bloom. As nice as this moment was, Ariana found she did worry for Luis and she wasn’t quite sure how she was supposed to help him. Nearly every time she spoke to him, she found herself confused and it seemed he managed to find so much trouble. “He is,” she said softly, “I’m not really sure how to help him. All of this is so new to him and White Crest is so well… White Crest. It’s good he at least believes what he is now, I just think acceptance and becoming one with the wolf side himself will take time.” She was able to gather that Luis didn’t really want to hurt anyone. Maybe showing him how she went through life could help. “What do you normally do to help new wolves get a good grip on all of this,” she asked, genuinely curious. Alcher probably knew better than anyone how to help new wolves. After all, travelling and helping packs was her life’s work. If she could pick up on some of what Alcher had to offer, she could help, too. And they’d be closer to that nice barbecue day together on the farm. “I thought you would,” she responded with a small smile before her face settled into a relaxed yet thoughtful glance out at the field. She nodded slowly, “I will. I think-- Well, we both know how easy the people we love can slip out of reach forever. But I’ll hold on to what’s important to me, always. And that includes you, Ulf, Luis, and even Damien.”

The breeze was nice. Alcher closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feeling for a moment, as she listened to Ariana’s words, and thought on them. The truth was that she had not encountered anyone as lost as Luis. There had been many, lost to rage, or sorrow, or pain-- but never to the point of this. She was still deciding what was best. She wanted to take him in and hold him until he understood, and another part of her wanted to force him to face himself, his wolf, and embrace it, just like her father had made her and her brothers do. But that sentiment was....cold. An echo in her chest. “I’ve found the best way is to just...show them what you can. Show them that their wolf is not a monster. We are simply-- part of the ecosystem and we are at the top of the food chain. Our rage and our power does not have to be used to maim, and it can be controlled. But I think most of us are just...searching for peace, and it is a hard thing to achieve when a beast crawls in your chest.” She looked over at Ariana. “Perhaps he just needs someone who understands him more. We were both born as we are, but he lived a very human life up until his bite. I just do not...know who might be able to give him that.” Alcher reached up to rub her head, a sudden throb working its way across her temples. Sleepless nights had turned into painful afternoons. “Good things are never really gone, if we keep them in our hearts,” she mumbled. Her heart was cold and empty now, the good of her family taken by a creature who made empty promises.

Even when it was apparent things were not completely okay, Ariana found there to be something peaceful about sitting on the porch of the farm with Alcher. This space really felt like it could be a safe haven for the wolves. As the breeze swayed blades of grass, she could picture all of them running free out here. She could see them working with newer wolves to help them learn control. On summer days, she could see them out here barbecuing far too much meat and laughing away. She held on hope that they’d all see those good times together sooner rather than later. Her focus shifted back to Alcher as she took in every word. From the moment she’d met him, Ariana felt protective of Luis. He’d been so lost as to what he was and so sure he was sick. “That makes sense. I can definitely try to show him more and work with him on learning to embrace being a wolf. I think maybe acceptance plays into that, both the control and the peace. The way he talked about it was like it’s a disease,” she said slowly as she tried to wrap her head around some ideas. Maybe sparring out in the forest or meditation or something could help. Focusing in on her breathing had always helped her, but her wolflike nature was ingrained in her personality, she was never fighting herself or her instincts. And she also knew Alcher was right, they’d never really be able to understand his struggle. They were born this way and didn’t hate what they were because they’d never known anything else. “I try to understand, but I know I can’t. Maybe we’ll meet another new wolf who could relate to him better. I think Damien was bitten, but he’s not exactly the friendliest guy around.” Ariana could understand that, wanting to be understood. She let out a soft sigh and leaned back her seat. A lot of good things lived on in her heart, but they sure as hell felt gone. It was a nice sentiment though so she nodded, “As long as we carry them with us.”

The breeze brought the scent of the forest around them to Alcher’s head and she felt a relief she hadn’t in a long time. It was a relief to know she had Ariana by her side, and it was a relief to know she had this place. It was her sanctuary, just like her home in Germany had been. She’d been searching for one for so long now. Had she even realized that, until this moment? She couldn’t be sure. “I think he might feel more at peace with someone closer to his age. I fear I might...intimidate him,” she admitted quietly, “but at least he knows, now, what he truly is. He poisons himself with our bane, though, and I wish there was a way to stop him from that. Perhaps with time, with demonstration.” She looked back over to Ariana. “I am sorry to place this burden on you, Ariana, but I believe you can be a great leader, one day.” She reached out to gently tuck some of her hair behind her ear. “A pack would be lucky to have you at its head.”

It was funny how something Ariana had always wanted could leave her feeling so uncertain. While the smells and sounds of the forest that surrounded the farm brought her a sense of ease, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was really the one to help or lead. All she knew was trying felt worlds better than leaving people she cared for hanging. “I think you may be right. I think age-wise we can relate well and I enjoy his music. I don’t love that he uses the wolfsbane, but I think it gives him a sense of control. Maybe not real control, but I believe he can get there,” she said thoughtfully. The next part was a little more tricky. Befriending hunters and even loving a select few of them either made her the best fit for leading or the worst. She was sure plenty of wolves would challenge her ideals just as she was sure many hunters would too. They all deserved some peace though. “Hm,” she sighed as she thought it over, “Thank you… and it’s not a burden. I think leading means being there for people you care about and that’s never something I’d consider a burden.” The gesture from Alcher left her feeling a bit warmer and less wary of everything they all faced. “No matter who is leading, I’ll always try to help other wolves in need,” she said more confidently this time and hoped that it ensured Alcher the wolves in White Crest would be well looked after even if she hoped that didn’t mean Alcher would make her way to another town soon.

Ariana’s words nearly matched the same ones Alcher had said to her mother over three decades ago. Her mind tried to latch onto the memory, trying to remember why it had mattered so much. But it left nothing, only the burning ache that had replaced all of it. She closed her eyes and breathed in again, washing the memory away. She had new ones to create. “You’ll make a great leader,” she reiterated, patting her hand gently. She looked back out across the farm again and turned to Ariana. “How about we go for a run? We haven’t done that for a while. I can show you how far the property stretches and we can decide the best place to have our future barbeque.”

#chatzy #chatzy: ariana #lead and i will follow #ariana #wickedswriting

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3starsquinn · 4 years

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[Ariana drops off an oreo cheesecake alongside a gift box wrapped in starry wrapping paper to Rio’s home. Inside the gift box, is a wooden memory box filled with photos of Rio and his friends. The lid of the memory box has the constellation Orion carved into it. The card reads as follows:]

Happy Birthday, Rio! Hope this is one of the best birthdays yet. I’m super glad you were born and that I get to call you my friend. Love you!

xoxo,

Ari

#submission #c: ariana #oh my GOD <3 #the irony #before birthday chatzy

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 3 years

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Hell’s Kitchen || Ariana, Rio, Damien, and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Kaden’s Apartment PARTIES: @letsbenditlikebennett, @3starsquinn, @damienxsheppard, @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden finally recruits help to make the staggering number of pies needed. Two werewolves, two hunters, and one pixie, no problems whatsoever.

“Is there more flour over there?” Kaden called out, barely looking up from the counter as he worked to make more dough. It didn’t matter who answered. Honestly he wasn’t certain that his apartment was big enough for all four of them at once, at least not actively working and baking. He knew it wasn’t big enough for the number of pies they had to make. It was hard to keep from muttering curses under his breath as he worked, mostly about two hundred pies and mostly in French. Still, he was grateful for the help at the moment, odd bunch though it might be. Two werewolves and two werewolf hunters. All in one apartment. Kaden had to keep rolling his shoulders back to ignore the chills down his spine every now and then. “Make sure the finished ones are labeled,” he called out to the living room. “Uh, please.” The timer buzzed and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “And someone grab that. I’ve got another ready here to swap out.”

Orion felt like a fish out of water. He didn’t think it was going too far out on a limb to assume that he had the least amount of experience with baking. Unless watching his sister bake growing up counted for anything. “I think I saw some flour over here.” Rio answered Kaden, dodging in and out of furniture and people to get to the counter. “Sorry, excuse me!” Rio mentioned to Damien as he slid behind him. Though the two had not met before, Rio figured that if he was a friend of Kaden and Ariana’s then he must be alright. He finally reached the bag and held it up in the air triumphantly before tucking it under his arm to take back over to Kaden. He ignored the tingling sensation nipping at his skin, a mainstay anytime he hung out with Ariana. Eventually it would stop bothering him like it always did. “What do you want me to do with it?” Rio found himself asking. This had been how he tried to make himself useful despite the minimal amount of baking experience he had. He didn’t know how to bake the pies, so he busied himself grabbing ingredients and measuring things out instead.

Damien wasn’t sure why he agreed to help. He was not typically the sort to be favorable to others, and he sure as shit didn’t know how to bake. Regardless of his usual disposition, he found himself here, ignorant of the threat the two men in the room could be to him, and annoyed to see the little werewolf walking about. “What are you doing here?” Damien grumbled lowly as he bent his form down to address Ariana. His tone lacked the sharp edge he wanted it to have, dulled now by their familiarity and a liking he wouldn’t admit to. If he was made to recognize the two hunters in the room he’d be forced to realize she was his closest ally. With a brief introduction to Rio, and an old greeting given to Kaden, Damien went to work. His hand snapped out to clasp the timer as Rio slipped past him, he should be glad the alarm of it signaled another pie was done and the lot of them were closer to their goal, but he hated the sound. Maneuvering through the maze of people, Damien arrived at the oven to free it of a recent baked good, leaving the door open for someone to place another on the racks.

“Hand it to me,” Kaden said simply, holding his hand out to take the bag of flour. With a quick sigh, he realized he could actually take a whole fucking second to explain. Rio did want to learn about baking, he’d said as much before. “I need to coat my hands again so that the dough doesn’t stick to them when I’m working with it.” Without even looking at the bag, Kaden reached in to scoop out some flour and pat it onto his hands. Only as soon as he did, something was off. It was… sticky? Definitely not flour. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled to himself, holding out his sugar covered hands. “Did you read the label on the bag, kid? I thought you liked reading.” he asked as he dodged around the two werewolves to get to the sink. “Please tell me you’re doing better over here. And can you get the next pie in the oven, Rio? Just make sure it’s not one that was already baked.”

Appreciative of Kaden trying to teach him along the way, Orion listened eagerly as Kaden explained the process and dipped his hand into the bag, only to pull out a handful of definitely not flour. Rio frowned at the bag, doing a double take to see that it did indeed claim to be sugar on the outside. Which didn’t make any sense considering he knew he had grabbed the flour. “I’m so sorry! I swe- I thought it said flour.” Rio caught himself mid sentence and rephrased, still eyeing the package as if the words were going to change back to flour. Rio pivoted quickly, still listening to Kaden while trying to right the wrong he had done. He found the bag of flour, opening it up to confirm this time before picking it up to take over to Kaden. Except this time when he lifted it, a stream of flour began pouring out of the bag from the bottom. “Oh come on!” Rio groaned, lifting it up to see a hole in the bottom. How had that happened? He plugged it with his hand and moved it next to Kaden, “There’s a hole in this, I don’t know why.” He explained clumsily before moving along to Kaden's next request, the new pies. He grabbed an unbaked one and moved towards the oven, waiting for Damien to remove a few before occupying the empty space. “Are you any good at baking or are you just as inept at this as I am?” Rio asked, smiling weakly at the man in what was probably a poor attempt at making conversation.

The commotion behind him drew Damien’s attention and he turned to watch as Kaden plunged his hand into a white bag and drew it back with his fingers covered in sugar. It seemed like an easy enough mistake to make, various ingredients in the kitchen were astray as the lot of them clamored to make more pies. One by one Damien pulled the pies from the oven, placing them on the limited counter space till only one was left perched in his hands wrapped in a cloth to prevent the heat from sinking into his fingertips. Searching the area for an available space, he found Rio struggling with the sought after bag of flour, a hole allowing for white powder to flow from the bag and dust their surroundings. He couldn’t help the small grin that developed on his face as Rio spoke to him, “you’re making me look good,” the werewolf replied as he moved through the limited space and dropped the last pie on the counter. An audible crack followed its landing as egg oozed from beneath the pan. “Fuck!” the curse was a little louder than need be, amplified by his genuine surprise, “where the hell did that egg come from? Did one of you put it there?” Damien reached for some paper towel to address the mess, “who the hell just leaves eggs lying around like that.”

The last person Ariana expected to see at Kaden’s apartment to help with baking pies of all things was Damien. Did Damien know Kaden was a hunter? Did Kaden know Damien was a werewolf? He had his whole werewolf sixth sense thing so he had to know, right? Maybe Ariana wasn’t his only exception which she was somehow both grateful for and a little jealous of, but she definitely preferred Kaden not trying to kill the grumpy werewolf she adopted so she’d take it. She couldn’t help the eye roll when Damien asked why she was here. “Helping make pies, obviously,” she answered jokingly as she continued rolling out some pie crust she had been working on. As fun as embarrassing Kaden could be, she wasn’t too keen to go into their fairly complicated backstory. Instead, she cackled as Kaden got his hands all sticky with sugar. It seemed like what followed was just a series of unfortunate events as Rio dropped flour everywhere and Damien broke a random egg. Ariana couldn’t help but laugh at Damien’s curses. “Y’all good? Do we need to like… reorganize the space,” she asked before her rolling pin went over an egg that definitely wasn’t there when she started rolling. “Hey,” she exclaimed with a hint of frustration in her voice, “Just because you’re making a mess of the eggs doesn’t mean you had to put one in my way,” she grumbled at Damien.

The kitchen was filled with cursing, which was nothing new, but it left Kaden wondering if the was a good idea after all. Maybe he should have just continued to struggle on his own to chip away at the growing list of orders. “My hands are wet, I can’t--” He didn’t get to finish his sentence before having to try and clumsily grab the leaking bag, alternating wiping his hands dry on his jeans. It only worked a little. The cracking behind him made him wince. “The hell is going on in here?” he muttered, mostly to himself, setting the bag aside for now. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of the way before remembering that his were both still a little wet and sprinkled with patches of flour. “Rearrange. Yeah, let’s do that. We can, uh… We can move things…” He looked around for any opening. “Somewhere. I don’t know, we can move the extra ingredients out onto the table over there, the one with the--” His brows furrowed as he went to point towards the dining room table. The one currently covered in mushrooms. Putain. Of course the fucking pixie was at it. Something he knew he could explain to Rio and Ari. How much did Damien even know? And what kind of shit would that lead to? Kaden sighed. For now, ignore it. “The mushrooms. Just move those. Ignore them. Whatever.”

“When was the last time you had your eyes checked,” Damien countered Ariana as she reeled to recover the damage the egg had done to her rolling pin, “I’ve been too busy to plant eggs around here for you.” He snagged another paper towel and cleaned the surface the pie was resting on, discarding the material into the nearest trash bin. He had hardly been paying attention to what the hunters were doing, only turning around when Kaden began to formulate a new plan for their operation. Eyes scanned the cluttered workspace for available room for the pies, locking on the table the same time Kaden noticed the abundance of mushrooms. Where the hell had those come from? He didn’t remember seeing them when he walked in, and if he had he would have turned tail and left thinking this was some kind of joke. Damien had been fortunate enough that since moving to White Crest his interactions with the supernatural were limited, or subtle. They didn’t exactly step out and admit they were vampires or fae. Only recently had he encountered another of his kind that resulted in any damage. He had no idea what could have produced so many mushrooms. “Are you joking?” he turned to the others, clearly confused, “are we using those? We’re not using those, right? That would be disgusting. I might not have the cooking skills of a Frenchman but even I can’t stomach the idea of mushroom pie.”

Did baking usually involve this much mess? Orion knew people always said that a few eggs had to be cracked, but he had never considered that the phrase was meant literally. “Mushrooms?” Rio asked, perplexed by Damien’s statement until he had turned and spotted them for himself. That was certainly odd, and if Rio had to take a wild guess, probably involved some sort of fae. But why here of all places? “Is this a normal occurrence while you’re baking?” Though the thought was perplexing, he thought it would be mildly humorous if the hunter’s secret to baking was some sort of fae ingredient. Rio was checking on the pies he had put in the oven when he heard music start playing from seemingly nowhere. Recognized the song too, Abba. He had always loved the group until he realized the Silver Bullet played it so much. “Where is that music coming from?”

Not quite willing to admit Damien was probably right, Ariana opted to stick her tongue out at him before cleaning up the mess in front of her. “Whatever,” she muttered before following Kaden out to the table. Her brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of all the mushrooms. Sure, he was dating a banshee, but Regan didn’t exactly seem the type to enjoy getting hopped up on fairy mushrooms. Plus, she was pretty sure those weren’t there when she arrived. “Ignoring the mushrooms. Sounds like a great idea,” she said with a not so subtle hint of sarcasm in her tone though she eventually found herself laughing at Damien’s questions. She’d explain later, but for now, she joked, “Obviously someone requested a mushroom pot pie.” Only seconds before Rio mentioned it, she could faintly hear the sound of that one Gimme Gimme Gimme song that Celeste had always liked. It caused her mouth to twist into a slight frown. “Yeah, Kaden, what’s with the old people music?” She shook her head, “No wonder you and Celeste were friends. Same boomer music taste.”

“Not normal, no,” Kaden called out with a sigh not far behind. He wiped off his hands once more on his jeans before turning to the fridge, swinging the door open, and reaching in for two bottles. “Here,” he said, handing one of the bottles of beer to Damien. “I think we’re going to need this.” He cracked open the cap and took a swig before looking at the state of the table. Rumpleskuffs, had to be. Showing off for all the new guests. Kaden debated disappearing into the other room to make a deal with the pixie just long enough to get this all over with when he, too, heard a familiar sound. His eyes darted to the teenager, wide and shocked before narrowing in on her. “Cut it out, Ari. Is this another one of your tocking tick pranks? Putain, this isn’t--” Only it was clear she wasn’t responsible for the music, either. “Hey. I’m not that old. I don’t even like ABBA. That much. Anyway.” The timer went off again. His brow furrowed and he looked back to the oven. There was no way that was right. The pies just went in. “One second,” he said as he went to check on the pies. Not done. He turned off the timer and reset it, hoping that he wasn’t going to have to reset it again in a minute or two. Something told him that might be the case.

“You don’t like ABBA?” Orion questioned the hunter, perplexed by the bold statement. When it played at the Silver Bullet was just about the only time that people in that place didn’t seem all that bad. For a moment, they stopped being all grumbly and macho. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Rio’s part. “It’s tiktok, Kaden.” He sighed, almost amused by how terribly he had butchered the app name, “And I don’t think this song is one of the popular sounds.” Not this ABBA song at least. A timer suddenly going off made Rio jump, hopping away from the oven and raising his heart rate on instinct. There was no way those were done already. Rio folded his arms and cast a worried glance over towards Damien. If he wasn’t here, Rio would be asking about what was actually going on. Since Kaden and Ariana weren’t bringing it up, he assumed that meant he must not be in the know. Or at the very least, not in the know about fae and the mischief they can allegedly cause. “I didn’t know volunteering to help you bake pies was going to be so... eventful.”

Damien gratefully accepted the beer Kaden offered him, with the music playing in the background and mushrooms piled up onto the table things were starting to feel part of a show. A cooking segment you accidentally landed on while clicking through shows and paused on because of the quirky nature of it all. He took a drink of his beer and shrugged off the remarks between the two discussing the name of an app and their taste in music. Damien snagged an empty bowl meant for cooking and started to collect the mushrooms, “mushroom pot pie my ass,” he replied, though he was sure by Ariana’s tone that she hadn’t been serious at all. “And don’t lie Kaden, everyone likes ABBA, or at least one of their songs.” Damien took the mushrooms he collected into review, looking over the strangeness of their appearance as if the answer was written just out of sight. “What do you even want me to do with these?”

“What? No. Even if this was a good prank, this whole mess is longer than one minute,” Ariana said with a matter of fact tone to her voice as if Kaden was supposed to know that TikTok videos couldn’t be longer than a minute. She grabbed some more finished pies to set on the table and clear their workspace and shook her head at Damien’s mushroom pot pie questioning. Later, she’d explain the significance of mushrooms though she was dying to know now just why they were here. Still, curiosity took over as she picked up one of the mushrooms and eyed the almost fake looking spots that danced across it’s cap. “Is Regan on a mushroom kick or something,” she blurted out before adding the mushroom to the bowl Damien was collecting them in. Regan didn’t seem the type to intentionally partake in fae things, but it would explain the pimping out pies thing.

How was it that everyone in that damn room knew his secret? How the hell did they find out? Kaden’s eyes shot to Ari. Did she tell Rio? She could have. But how did Damien know, too? “Alright, fine,” he admitted with a grumble into his beer. “I don’t hate ABBA but I don’t love them or anything like that.” His brow furrowed again as Damien brushed the mushrooms off the table. Interesting. Normally they were just visual illusions. Then again, Rumpleskuffs had been very bored lately. Maybe he save some spores just for this sort of occasion. “You can, uh, just put them in the trash. Or something.” Shit, would that anger the tiny fae? Probably. “Or, uh, just set them to the side. Somewhere. Doesn’t matter, figure it out.” The timer went off again and Kaden thought he might scream. At the very least he was going to take this fucking timer and chuck it out the window. Instead, he simply turned it off again, reset it again, and placed it down on the counter as gently as he could manage. It still was a bit of a slam. “Huh?” he called back to Ari, his chest tightening at the thought. He knew Ari knew what Regan was. And Rio. But would that give her away to Damien? Couldn’t they just all pretend to be completely fucking normal humans for an hour or two? Wouldn’t that be nice? “No, definitely not hers. Regan hates mushrooms. I think. Nah, this is just, uh, wel…” Shit, should have gone with her explanation. “Maybe just another experiment of hers or something. Like that.”

Damien discarded the bowl of mushrooms on the couch sofa, it seemed unlikely they’d need that space for anything else with the pies quickly taking over the apartment. He had never asked how Kaden managed to rack up such an order and it seemed a little late now to question it. The timer began to chime again, signifying one more item baked towards their goal, but the sound of it landing on the counter a little too harshly caused Damien to turn his head. Was this about Regan? He didn’t see how mushrooms could be tied back to her but the stress of this, it seemed like the roots really dug into something more daunting than a bake off. “I don’t get the impression Regan is much of a trickster. Though maybe she’d have an interest in mushrooms if they were sprouting from something recently departed. Or were related to the death of something,” at least, that was more of the impression Damien had of her, knowledgeable about all things deceased. He strode over to Kaden, placing a hand on his shoulder, “maybe you should take a break man,” he gave a light push over towards the couch, “I think he can manage for a little bit.” It was then that Damien turned his head, or rather, looked down to find Ari, “come on girl scout, time to earn a badge for baking mastery.”

Mushrooms were a fae thing, Orion knew that much. Though he didn’t think it was really a Banshee thing. Definitely not a Regan thing. Not unless this whole health kick where Regan assumed that Rio was one missed protein or strong breeze would be his breaking point had been nothing more than a practical joke all along. If that were the case, Rio would actually have to be a bit impressed. And maybe a bit disappointed. “Saprophytes” Rio suggested casually as the discussion turned towards mushrooms growing on dead things, “It’s a type of fungus that grows on dead things.” Not that those mushrooms were the kind that grew on dead things. At least he didn’t think so. Damien was trying to get Kaden to take a break, which was probably the right idea. Even if the idea of losing his lifeline to this whole baking thing was a bit terrifying. “Who is in charge then? Because I don’t know what I’m doing. Guidance requested please.”

Considering Damien seemed to shrug off any warnings she gave him about other supernatural crap that happened in town, Ariana doubted that he’d put together two and two when it came to fae and mushrooms. Kaden seemed pretty certain Regan hated mushrooms and given how serious Regan was, she doubted she was really into pranks. Still, if she happened upon some mushrooms, that could have changed her outlook a bit. At least from what Ariana understood about fae and mushrooms which admittedly wasn’t much for someone who had a warden girlfriend. She looked Damien and Kaden both with an amused grin on her face and wondered why they weren’t just throwing the mushrooms out. “Couch, seems good enough until the kitchen is freed up,” she said with a shrug before she added, “And I’m a little old to be a girl scout, but I’ve gotten pretty good at baking. So don’t worry, you two be grumpy old men together and Rio and I can take over in the kitchen for a bit.” Before she even finished her sentence, she could practically hear Kaden grumbling about how he wasn’t grumpy or saying some French swear word. While he hadn’t responded, it still left her smiling. She linked her arm up with Rio’s and assured, “No worries, Rio. I’ve been baking with your sister long enough that I’m practically an expert at this point.” Somehow, the timer was going off again and she swore it had only been a few minutes. Someone was definitely joking around here. If this was a cartoon, she was sure steam would be coming out of Kaden’s ears and that was enough to have her laughing amongst the chaos again. She dragged Rio into the kitchen, turned the timer off, and whispered, “Okay, what the hell is going on here? Who is not me and pranking Kaden?” Mime stripper reviews crossed her mind and her eyes lit up. She poked her head out of the kitchen and asked, “Hey, Kaden? Has Nell been here recently?” Though mushrooms still didn’t seem like Nell’s style even if she had joked about enchanting vegetables after the potato incident.

Damien was going to elect Ariana as the leader of this little group, she seemed to be the thread that connected most of them, but he also did not want to give Ari the satisfaction of his vote. So, he took to his role in accompanying Kaden to the couch as the second half of the grumpy man team, throwing an arm around Kaden’s shoulder as he indulged in his beer. “I’ll be happy to fit the grumpy man trope if it lets me finish my drink,” he murmured to Kaden, maneuvering towards the couch. Damien let his body all but crashing into the cushion, sinking in without protest. The time spouted off again causing him to briefly turn his head to see how the others were managing the kitchen before returning his focus on the drink. He knew he shouldn’t ask what came next, that he shouldn’t want to know, but some part of him had grown to care for these people and Damien struggled to ignore that. “How are things going with Regan, with her classes I mean?” he asked Kaden, “is she taking breaks in-between to work on the pie business?”

“Guess Ari is your guidance,” Kaden said back to Rio. “Just shout if you all need help. And I’m not that old, alright,” he grumbled as he took a seat on the couch. Putain, he couldn’t remember the last time he sat down today, if he was being honest. Maybe the teenage werewolf was right and he did need the break. The timer went off again and he pinched his nose between his fingers, hoping the pressure would relieve some of the tension in his head. It wasn’t working so he took a swig of his drink instead. It didn’t make the headache go away but it was good beer and it was better than the goddamn mushrooms. “It’s not Nell. Or Blanche. Or Grace.” Not that it was even possible to be some of them but he knew the cause of this was a small fae who had taken up residence in his apartment. Another swig was definitely necessary. “How do you know Nell, anyway?” Then again, it wasn’t hard to run into at least one Vural in town. Well, now that there were three again. Kaden sighed and was about to take another drink but Damien’s comment made him stop and furrow his brows. “Huh?” he asked as he looked over to Damien. Classes? What cl-- Oh. Oh. That’s right. When he’d explained the banshee lessons. Putain. “Uh, yeah it’s going alright. She’s made progress I think. Almost done. But yeah, the pies have been a good break for her. As much of a fucking mess this is, it’s been nice to have.”

Somehow, the two youngest ended up in charge of the pies. Luckily for Orion, Ari knew what she was doing. Unluckily for him, she knew what she was doing because of his sister. She wasn’t exactly an ideal conversation topic. Ironically, she was probably the most conflicting part of his own friendship with Ari at this point. He trusted her to keep Ari safe, but not much beyond that. “Just tell me what to do. I’ll be the obedient sous chef.” Rio laughed. When she whispered to him he shrugged but glanced toward the two. He didn’t know Damien, but he didn’t really seem the type. Kaden hadn’t been wrong to suspect Ari first, admittedly. “No idea. But all seems very… fae-y. Just pretend that’s a word.” The kitchen was a mess and he couldn’t tell what parts of that were their doing and what part was whatever was continuing to mess things up. While he waited on instructions, Rio worked to try to tidy up. “We have a very intricate young person friend group, Kaden.” Rio answered his question. Of course they knew Nell. Probably because of Winston. At least in Rio’s case, they had been the common string that introduced most of the friends Rio had now. “We’re all very tight knit.” Trauma and near death experiences had a habit of encouraging bonding experiences.

Seeing as Kaden wasn’t dropping any hint of who the hell was playing mushroom pranks on him, Ariana figured it was probably time to drop it. She could always bug him about it later. It seemed like she could have a true partner in crime with pranking Kaden. The part of her that enjoyed the clout on TikTok was delighted. The part of her that still struggled to wrap her head around fae things after everything with Lydia and then Deirdre, decided maybe this prankster wasn’t up her alley. Mushrooms brought a rightful sense of unease. “Your sous-chef duty for now is gonna be turning the timer off since it seems to like going off every 2 minutes and we all have too good of hearing for that shit,” she said to Rio who could probably already sense she wasn’t the only werewolf in the room. She got to rolling out some more dough for the crust and called out, “What he said.” It was easier than explaining they chatted online a few times before Nell and Bea helped make charmed jewelry to help protect her and Celeste. So much help that did, not that it was their fault. With a few more crusts cut out, she got another batch of pies ready to move into the oven. As crazy as the afternoon was, Ari found there was some sort of content feeling that came with being surrounded by people she loved.

#writing #wickedswriting #chatzy #hell's kitchen #ariana #letsbenditlikebennett #damien #damienxsheppard #3starsquinn #orion

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