Chapter Text
Please don't leave
Don't leave me in the shape you left me
Please don't leave
Immediately, she knew something was wrong.
Hilda felt it in her bones, settling deep within her marrow, reshaping her core.
She kept her head down, her attention focused on the wailing babe in her arms. She didn’t need to look up to know that they were in Edward’s office, nor did she need to glance up to see Faustus Blackwood seated at her brother’s chair. No, she could tell that by the sharp intake of breath by Zelda that only herself and Sabrina could hear, and Hilda almost felt Zelda’s entire nervous system seize up as if it were her own.
“Faustus…”
The babe in her arms scrunched up her face upon hearing Zelda utter Faustus’ name and Hilda had to repress a slightly hysterical chuckle at the child’s obvious disdain for the warlock. She bit her lip hard instead and tickled the girl’s cheek instead, which did nothing but bring about another screech.
“Sister Zelda… sister Hilda…” His voice boomed in the quiet room, even against Sabrina’s screams. Hilda felt the tone of the conversation pressing down on her like a stone. She wanted nothing more than to go back to the mortuary with Sabrina and Zelda and live in blissful ignorance of whatever Faustus was going to confirm in the next few minutes.
“Where’s Edward?” Zelda’s voice cut through Hilda’s thoughts. “And Diana? And why in Satan’s name has Sabrina been teleported to the mortuary of all places?”
Upon hearing the names of her parents, Sabrina finally settled down, but that did nothing to calm the sense of impending dread that had come over Hilda at that moment.
Hilda stole a glance towards Zelda. Stupidly hoping her sister would give her a small look of comfort, of assurance, of anything, but all she received was her sister’s profile illuminated by the dimming embers of the fireplace. Even though Zelda’s face wasn’t fully lit by the flickering flames, it was still something to behold; a stony facade that only Hilda knew well enough to realize it was already cracking.
Hilda was sure her own face was a mess, she had always worn her emotions on her sleeves. A tear slid down her cheek, as if to prove her point.
“I- I’m afraid I have some grave news.”
Hilda was glad his gaze was not focused on either of them at that moment, it would have been too much to bear. Faustus Blackwood was one that Hilda would rather not maintain eye contact with if it could be helped. His eyes reminded her of a shark’s when stalking its prey. Cold, lifeless, black as a void.
Zelda took a sharp intake of breath through her nose whilst Hilda shifted next to her, keeping Sabrina calm.
“What- what sort of news?” Hilda managed to choke out while she laid a hand on Sabrina’s little cheek in comfort. Hilda could feel Zelda’s impatience radiating off of her in waves, and knew that disaster was close at hand if Faustus didn’t bloody come out and say it soon. She supposed he thought he was doing them a kindness, delaying the news, but the time for that had passed, and now his silence was absolutely infuriating.
“I have received word that Flight 2331 went down overseas en route to Italy, and that there were no survivors.”
Hilda bit back a sob as she remembered frantically waving at the plane as it took off this morning, ignoring Zelda’s dramatic eye-rolling and general display of displeasure at having been dragged all the way to the nearest airport to see them off. To think that that would forever be the last time she saw Edward and Diana. She shuddered, holding Sabrina close, glad that at least her niece was still here, even if the means of which how she got to the mortuary exactly evaded both Zelda and Hilda.
For a brief moment, Hilda felt stable, with Sabrina in her arms, grateful of the weight that tied her to this mortal plane but then she caught sight of Zelda, face taut as if it were a statue of marble carved to perfection, eyes darkening as the implications of Faustus’ words registered in her head. Hilda could feel Zelda’s power and rage grow tenfold in that fraction of a second.
“That’s not possible,” Zelda spat back through gritted teeth, as if she could simply defy Death through sheer spite and denial. Hilda sniffled, wiping her eyes with a sleeve. Having been a victim many a time of her sister’s rage and malice, Hilda knew to tread carefully when Zelda’s power was at its full peak like this.
It seemed that Faustus did not, or did not think those rules applied to him when breaking the news of their brother and his wife’s deaths to Zelda.
“I’m sorry to say that it is, Sister Zelda,” Faustus stated in an even tone and Hilda watched as he met Zelda’s gaze then, straight and true, and how with a small gasp, she felt her sister’s magic and fury dissipate in a matter of half a second.
“Our Dark Lord Satan has called them both home,” he continued and Hilda felt as all of Zelda’s energy suddenly stopped and collapsed in itself till there was nothing left but a faint thrumming in the air that only Hilda could detect. She didn’t even try to read Zelda’s mind; Zelda had shut her completely so many years ago, not wanting to allow anyone access to any of her thoughts or feelings. Hilda was always met with a freezing expanse of empty air whenever she tried, accompanied by that faint thrumming.
“But what about Sabrina?” Zelda’s voice cut through Hilda’s thoughts like a knife, that distant noise now fading away as voices overpowered it.
“Up until this moment, we had been under the assumption that she had perished in the crash as well. I had no idea the child ended up on your doorstep.” Hilda’s eyes narrowed at that, but she didn’t raise her voice to question it. The Council supposedly knew everything about everyone, always poking their noses into everyone else’s bloody business, surely they had to know how Sabrina ended up at the mortuary.
Faustus surprised her even further when he genuinely asked, “How long ago was this?”
“An hour, at the most. Maybe less,” Zelda answered, and Faustus’ brow came together, deep in thought and concentration.
“Just the child?” Faustus looked just as puzzled as the sisters.
They both nodded in response.
“With her little basket, and her blanket,” Hilda added in a trembling voice as she rocked Sabrina quietly, adjusting her grip on the babe and the sleeve of her cardigan as Sabrina’s fingers had clenched around a bit of the fabric.
“And bawling,” Her sister stated matter of factly, pausing for a moment, “She hadn’t stopped till just now.”
Faustus looked between the pair of them, and Hilda felt her stomach lurch as he did so. He looked far too keen for someone who had just ascended to the role of High Priest in her opinion. She bit back the bad taste that his actions left in her mouth as he leaned forward to look at both of them.
“Sisters, this is most unusual. According to our brethren coven in Italy, there was no detection of magic being used in the area where their plane went down. No trace of it all.”
“Then how in Satan’s name did Sabrina end up at the mortuary?” Zelda’s voice cut through the uneasy silence that had settled over them after Faustus’ declaration that there had been no trace of magic at all.
Hilda, however, was still caught up on Faustus’ words. With a tilt of her head as Zelda and Faustus bickered, Hilda used her telepathy to peer into their new High Priest’s mind.
Truly she didn’t do it often, having found her power more harmful than helpful in certain instances, but there was something about Faustus Blackwood that she didn’t trust. Accessing his mind in this instance was the least she could do for the babe in her arms who suddenly turned up on their doorstep. Her heart constricted upon thinking of Sabrina, and then Eddie and last but not least Diana, with whom Hilda had gotten rather close to since the mortal had announced her pregnancy.
Instead of being greeted with a vast emptiness, Faustus’ mind and thoughts were singular; how indeed had Sabrina ended up at the mortuary? The question swirled around in the air of his consciousness, changing in pitch and tone till Hilda couldn’t take it anymore and she severed the connection to his head. Feeling a bit lightheaded as her own thoughts filled her mind once more, Hilda barely heard the next exchange between Zelda and Faustus.
“Diana’s family has in fact been contacted and notified of the tragedy, and-” Faustus had scarcely gotten the sentence out of his mouth before Zelda interrupted him with a tone Hilda knew all too well.
“Out of the question. We’ll keep the child, raise her… guide her. I will not leave my half-witch niece to a bunch of witless mortals.”
Hilda gave a noise of dissent to calling Diana’s family “a bunch of witless mortals”, seeing as she had met them at the engagement party and wedding and thought they were lovely little mortals, but she did not outright disagree that Sabrina should be left with them. Although, she wasn’t so sure how much Eddie and Diana would have wanted Zelda and Hilda to care for her. She knew that since Zelda had been named as Sabrina’s Nightmother, it was only natural that she wanted to protect her, raise her. Hilda worried at her bottom lip, wondering how Zelda would ever react if she found out the truth of the lengths Diana had gone to protect Sabrina’s duality as a half witch.
“As I already said, Sister Zelda, we were unaware of Sabrina’s miraculous appearance at the mortuary.” Faustus stated, “I’m afraid I already informed Diana’s family that there were no survivors in the crash, including Sabrina.”
“And you have no plans to change that, present information included?” Hilda felt a flicker of power surge through the air around her sister, but she remained quiet.
“I see no reason to,” he shrugged. “Like you said, a half-witch has no business amongst mortals.”
“But they are her family,” countered Zelda fiercely.
If Hilda was surprised to see her sister fighting on the side of mortals, she was careful to keep it from her face. It was rare, these times when her sister’s actions shocked her, but Zelda had a way of every once in a while turning about-face and completely confounding her and everyone around her. Secretly, Hilda knew it was because her sister cared deeply and more so than anyone else even if she couldn’t be bothered to let it show when it mattered the most.
She focused her attention on the babe in her arms, who had awoken from a brief sleep upon hearing the rising voices. Stroking Sabrina’s cheek with a gentle finger, Hilda largely ignored the conversation that was happening between her sister and Faustus until both of their voices grew so loud that Sabrina started crying once again.
Feeling the expanse of power radiating from her sister, Hilda thought it better to place some distance between herself and the babe from Zelda and Faustus and as such they ended up by windows. The stars still twinkled against the pitch black sky, and Hilda was once again reminded that the world still turned, relentlessly, no matter what personal tragedy one experienced and no matter how much one thought that the world must stop and become disordered because of it. The cosmos and whatever lay beyond it didn’t care about their needs, or wants. Time still moved on, regardless.
Her thoughts were broken by the sound of a hand slamming down against wood, and Hilda flinched, eyes going towards the sound as she watched Zelda stay stoic against Faustus’ rage.
“Zelda! What’s done is done. End of discussion. As far as the mortals know, the girl is dead along with her parents, and that’s how it will stay. I will personally make sure of it.”
Hilda watched as Zelda’s spine straightened with a rigidity that foretold of danger.
“Is there anything else, Your Excellency , or are we free to go?” Hilda inhaled through her nose at the tone, the biting edge Zelda’s voice took with that question and threw a quick prayer down to the Dark Lord that this night would see no more bloodshed, that Zelda would keep her emotions in check for a little while longer, just till they were back home.
“The Council will be conducting an independent inquiry come the morning light. Any findings that come of it, I will let you know as soon as I can.” Faustus stole a glance towards Hilda, which surprised her, and she answered with a quiet thank you, accompanied by a few sniffles.
Hilda glanced towards Zelda then and saw Zelda turn into stone for a moment, wiping away any traces of any emotion from her face, focusing on the task at hand. Truly Hilda wanted to yell at her, to tell her it was okay to feel , but she knew it would go unheard. Still her heart ached for her sister at that moment.
“If you need anything, Sisters, please don’t hesitate to call upon me, or other members of the coven. In the face of such a terrible tragedy, our coven must come to face this together in our collective strength.”
Zelda let out the scoff that Hilda was biting back at Faustus’ words, and Hilda nearly smirked at her sister’s snarkiness, a reminder of old times.
Both of them knew that Edward hadn’t been the most well-respected High Priest in the last few centuries, mostly thanks to Edward’s ideas of mortals and witches and his subsequent marriage to Diana, but Hilda doubted that most of the coven would lift a finger to help her and her sister now. They were a selfish lot, witches and warlocks, especially in Greendale and beyond.
As if sensing her Aunt’s distress, Sabrina cried even louder despite Hilda’s attempts to quiet her, and in all of the noise, Hilda missed whatever Faustus said to Zelda, and only felt the pressure of Zelda’s ring-clad hand coming down on her left shoulder and the bite in her sister’s tone as she spat, “No need. We Spellmans take care of ourselves. We’re more than capable of getting home without your help.”
Biting her lip, Hilda glanced at Zelda to say that actually yes, having Faustus teleport them would be a good idea, especially since Zelda was expending so much magic through her anger and anger alone, but before she could speak, Hilda found herself in the kitchen at the mortuary.
One look at Zelda, who truly looked as if she would collapse to the floor whether out of grief, despair, or exhaustion (or all three) Hilda did not know nor did she want to find out, and Hilda tutted inside of her head, not daring to say anything to her sister’s face, not when she was in this state.
Instead, Hilda simply asked, “Shall I put on a pot of tea?”
“Something stronger if you wouldn’t mind, sister,” merely a murmur from Zelda and then Zelda seemed to regain some of her strength as she held out her arms expectantly for their niece, “I’ll take the babe for a moment.”
Still wary that Zelda had truly overdone herself, Hilda regarded her for a moment, before passing the swaddled baby into Zelda’s awaiting arms.
Immediately Sabrina calmed down, an instant effect that not only set in the stone cold reality before them, but made Hilda all the more teary-eyed as she rummaged about the kitchen, looking for mugs and ingredients. She didn’t even need to think about what she was grabbing, it was automatic, which was good because in the silence it all hit her like a punch to her stomach.
“I just don’t understand it,” the words slipped past her lips as she turned on the stove, “They were alive this morning! And then Sabrina teleporting here! Of all places! It doesn’t make sense!”
She was met with silence, which was what she expected. Zelda didn’t do well talking about tragedies as she preferred to brood quietly while the grief chipped away at her day by day until she was nothing but a shell of a person.
“Zelda?” Hilda asked quietly after a few moments, noticing the silverware was twitching in the cabinets, a sure sign that Zelda’s telekinesis was in full swing. She passed her sister a cup and shut off the burner as Zelda narrowed her eyes at the concoction in front of her.
“What is this?”
“Chamomile tea with a bit of your vodka in it.” Hilda answered as she poured one for herself and drank it.
“That’ll work,” Zelda said approvingly and downed it in a single swallow. In the silence that followed, Hilda struggled to keep the one question that had been growing louder in her mind since they left Edward’s office at bay.
“Zelds?” Hilda hated how small she sounded in that moment, forever the little sister, forever the baby of the family, but she couldn’t help it. Things had gotten so turned upside down in the last few hours, her sister was the only thing Hilda was still sure of, could depend on.
Still, she paused before asking, “Are you sure about this?” as she looked between her sister and her niece.
“Of course I am,” Zelda responded not a moment later, so sure of herself, so confident. Hilda believed her, just for a moment, before her own insecurities about raising Edward and Diana’s child came rushing back into her mind. Luckily, Zelda was there to keep her moving before her thoughts dragged her down into a pit of despair.
“You should run to the store, I’ll stay here with Sabrina.”
It was not a question.
“The store?” Hilda blinked before registering what Zelda was asking. “Oh, oh right. Oh goodness, we’re going to need a lot of things…” she muttered to herself, a list already forming in her head. Nappies, toys, clothes, food, a whole itinerary of things needed for a baby came into her head.
“Start with the absolute essentials for tonight, I don’t want you gone too long,” Zelda reminded her as she held Sabrina in her arms.
“Right, right…” With her mind already racing, Hilda moved about the kitchen for a bit before pausing and nearly stopping in her tracks to turn to look at Zelda.
She regarded her sister for a moment, seeing her as she truly was in that one particular moment. With Sabrina in her arms, Hilda could almost believe that everything was normal. Zelda had an uncanny ability to appear stoic and calm even when she was frazzled beyond belief, but even Hilda could see the slight cracks emerging in her armor now; the tension in her shoulders, the way she bit at her lower lip, the ever so slight trembling of her fingers, and it worried Hilda.
Her silence caused Zelda to lift an eyebrow at her and the words came spilling out.
“I just… it’s just.. I know that look on your face, Zels.” A glare now took over her sister’s features where the uncertainty had been,“You have to promise me you’re not going to do anything impulsive while I’m gone.”
Zelda scoffed “And leave the babe alone? Please, Hilda, we’ll be fine.”
Hilda remained where she was. She knew that an event like this would and should shatter them both completely, leaving them both in pieces at the death of their eldest brother and his wife, having to care for their niece as if she were their own. And she knew what happened when Zelda fell to pieces, better than anyone else.
Hilda remained there for a moment, regarding Zelda as if she was trying to judge whether or not Zelda would act irrationally if she left her alone for more than five minutes.
After a few beats of silence, Hilda gave up with a sigh, making the determination in her head not to be gone for too long lest Zelda try anything.
She nearly yanked the coat hanger off the wall whilst trying to retrieve her coat, and then pressed a light kiss to Sabrina’s forehead with a quick glance towards Zelds before stuffing the keys to the hearse in her pocket as she headed outside.
It was cold, well into December at this point, and Hilda saw that the grounds were covered in a light blanket of a fresh snowfall. As she walked towards the hearse, she heard the light crunch of her own footsteps and somehow that felt quite grounding to her, at least in that moment in time.
Once in the car, ignition on, Hilda paused for the briefest of seconds to think about where in the world she needed to go to get baby supplies in this town, and that was when she felt the grief suddenly seep into her veins from her heart as she started driving.
It started slow, just with the realization that she and Zelda were now responsible for their nearly three month old niece. Then it hit her that Eddie was gone. Then Diana. Then the truth really hit her, really took root in her subconscious, not just as some abstract far away thought that couldn’t touch reality, that felt distant and made up.
They were dead. Really and truly dead.
Hilda had seen death enough times to know the finality of it, the truth of it, but she had never thought it would have happened to Eddie and Diana so soon. They had so many years left, so many things to experience, they had just gotten started.
Now, they were-
No, no, if she pondered over the specifics, Hilda was sure she would vomit. She wasn’t quite ready to accept that part of their deaths, not tonight, not now. As it was, when she pulled up to the local corner shop with its neon sign, she already found herself blubbering and sobbing in her rearview mirror. She took a moment to compose herself, for tonight wasn’t about her, it was about Sabrina.
The frigid night air and the bright light from the shop helped her calm herself after she exited the hearse. The chattering between customers helped too, for it provided a buzzing background in which Hilda could lose herself in as she repeated the list she had come up with in the car as a sort of refrain: Baby clothes, formula, diapers.
Keeping her eyes out for those specific items while wandering up and down the aisles took most of her focus, and as such she didn’t notice when she nearly barreled a poor woman over whilst turning a corner. Startled, Hilda watched as some of the items the woman had her grasp tumbled to the linoleum floor, and she had half a mind to curse herself for being so stupid and clumsy, today of all days.
“Oh I’m so terribly sorry, please let me help you,” she sputtered out while bending down to grab at a bag of crisps. She grabbed the bag and a few other items and held them while the woman collected the rest.
When the other woman turned to face Hilda, she could have sworn she recognized her, but then again immortality tended to blend one descendant into another, and Hilda had been in Greendale for so long, surely she was thinking of an ancestor or someone else so she said nothing. But Hilda couldn’t shake the feeling as a good-natured smile appeared on the woman’s face. Dark brown hair pulled into a loose bun, glasses, a chain of pearls, and did Hilda spy a cross as well? That wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for Greendale, Satan knew this town was very religious to combat the witching world community within its borders.
The maroon sweater and black skirt with simple Mary Janes didn’t bring about anything specific to Hilda’s mind, so it was only when Hilda passed her the bag of chips and other items, their hands briefly touching, that it occurred to Hilda where she had seen this woman before.
“Thank you, you’ve been very kind,” Wardwell, Mary Wardwell, said as she took back the items.
It had been an event at the local library that Hilda had attended, about the history of Greendale. Hilda had gone for a lark and to see how much had been actually accurate and how much was propaganda had been imbued in the town’s local history. Zelda had scoffed at Hilda’s invitation to join her, but Hilda had thoroughly enjoyed herself, so much so that she had gone up to compliment the speaker, Mary Wardwell, on how well she had done afterwards.
“You’re welcome, Ms. Wardwell,” Hilda said after a slight cough, trying to cover up how hoarse her voice was from the crying session she had had only a few minutes ago in the car.
Mary’s head titled at the name, “I recognize you from somewhere,” she stated, eyes appraising Hilda warmly.
“The History of Greendale presentation you did at the library. Hilda Spellman,” Hilda stuck out her hand and then, upon remembering the woman had her hands full, awkwardly retracted it into the sleeve of her coat.
“Yes, that’s right. Spellman, how could I forget a name like that here in Greendale?” Mary smiled, “Thank you, Hilda.”
“Happy to help, but I think your crisps might be a bit crushed though,” Hilda eyed the crinkled bag with a worrying bite to her lip, “Sorry about that. It’s… it’s been a long day.” That last part was unexpected, a small moment of vulnerability that threatened to swallow her whole if she wasn’t careful.
Focus, she had to focus. Idling made her grief worse, and she was somewhat stalling going back to the house, afraid of what she might find. At least here, in the corner store, Hilda could pretend that nothing had happened, that nothing was wrong. But at home, she had Zelda’s grief to contend with, and Sabrina to manage.
“Oh, thank you,” Mary noticed the chips and daintily put them on the shelf next to them, “I’ll have to go get another bag.” After a pause, and another look at Hilda, she asked, “Are you alright, Ms. Spellman?”
No.
The word immediately jumped to Hilda’s lips, but she shoved it down.
No, no, and she probably wouldn’t be ‘alright’ for the rest of her years.
She had thought upon losing Thomas that that had been the worst pain she had ever felt, but the pain at losing Diana and Edward was worse, and if she thought about all three of them, along with her parents, she might actually shatter into a thousand pieces and would never pick herself back up again.
“Right as rain, Ms. Wardwell,” Hilda stated in the most chipper tone she could manage, although she was sure it came off to the other woman as merely extremely high-pitched and insincere, especially accompanied by the half hearted smile Hilda summoned to muster on her face. Hilda truly hoped she wouldn’t press on the matter anymore, and although Ms. Wardwell looked as though she’d like to sit down with Hilda for a cup of tea at her cottage, she merely gave Hilda a tight smile and nodded. “If you need to talk, please feel free to come by, my door is always open. And I have cookies!” she added with a smile that scrunched up her nose.
“Thank you, that’s very kind, but I really should be getting home.”
Hilda hurried off before Mary could wish her goodbye, disappearing into the sweets aisle and she stared at a box of cookies (or biscuits as she liked to call them, old habits die hard) until her vision was no longer teary-eyed. Once collected, Hilda set about getting the rest of the items as quickly as she could, and made a bee-line for the cashier as soon as she had everything she could think of.
Out of the corner of her eye while waiting in line behind an older lady who seemed to determined to get every coupon she could, passing every clipped out piece of paper to the teenaged cashier who looked as though he’d rather be anywhere but here, Hilda thought she spied Mary Wardwell once more. She decidedly kept her gaze forward until it was finally her turn.
The drive home was about as blurry as her trip to the store, and once she pulled up to the driveway, she almost wished that sense of blurriness would stay with her as she entered the house. Hilda stayed in the car for the moment as the feeling dissipated like one of Zelda’s smoldering cigarettes, and the clear cut truth made its way to her mind once more.
The lights were still on, that was a good sign. No outward signs of telekinesis on the house at least as far as she could tell. The interior, however, could be a different story entirely. Hilda recalled one instance where Zelda had willed every single knife to the kitchen ceiling during an argument, nearly taking the drawers with them.
The winter night was still, and unbearably quiet, and soon Hilda longed for the familiar hustle and bustle of the Spellman family home, even if it was just her and Zelda now.
As she stepped inside, she was greeted by the lingering smell of cigarette smoke, not fresh, but from earlier this morning before Sabrina had mysteriously arrived on their front door step. For once, Hilda wished she would find Zelda sitting in the kitchen smoking, holding Sabrina for no other reason than the witch would have her hands full with the baby and her cigarette holder and couldn’t possibly do something reckless and rash as she was wont to do when her anger simmered into grief.
Zelda in a rage was a tempestuous storm that would sink ships in a few hours time, Zelda in her grief was a silent change in the current, a sudden riptide that would pull you under and drown you in an instant, destroying everything in its grasp.
The kitchen was as she had left it, with Zelda and Sabrina still in it; Sabrina still in Zelda’s arms, and Hilda breathed a sigh of relief.
The air in the room was different though; charged with magic, Hilda could practically see it shimmering in the light. Zelda must have gone to great lengths to keep herself in check while she was gone.
Hilda placed the items on the table one by one, and Zelda surveyed them with approval. She truly had just gone for the essentials.
“Should I take her upstairs for a wash and get her changed?” Hilda asked, grabbing one of the new outfits she had bought, a cute little giraffe pyjama onesie. She knew she had to be the one to focus on Sabrina for now and let Zelda process her grief for her own sake.
But Zelda flinched at the suggestion, as if struck, as if taking Sabrina away from her was the worst possible thing Hilda could have proposed. Zelda’s features actually twisted in pain for a moment, and Hilda took a step back. She wondered if she would find herself in the Cain Pit in a few seconds, but Zelda sighed and handed over Sabrina and Hilda took quickly before Zelda could change her mind.
Sabrina was a small warm bundle in her arms, still asleep, still somewhat ignorant of what had occurred tonight and for that Hilda was grateful. Of course they’d have to tell her over and over again as she got older, but for now, besides maybe on a subconscious level that even Hilda’s telepathy couldn’t reach, Sabrina just knew that she was safe right now and that’s all that mattered.
Hilda took Sabrina upstairs into a spare room to change, and tried not to think what self destructive behavior Zelda was getting herself into, although she did hear the liquor cabinet slam shut, which confirmed her suspicions, followed by the front door.
It was easier to focus with Sabrina around, who was now awake, to concentrate on her mind on the task of changing her dirty nappy into a fresh one, to put on that adorable giraffe onesie, and to press a kiss to the girl’s forehead, which caused her to shriek in delight and giggle.
With a flick of her wrist and a few words, Hilda summoned a long lost cradle from the attic that had been collecting dust, and two beds to go on either side of the crib. She knew herself and Zelda well enough to know that they were in this together, that they couldn’t do this alone, and as such they both would want to be as close to Sabrina as possible for as long as possible.
Eventually she’d be given her own room, but for right now, Sabrina being close to the Spellman sisters was more for their sake than her own. Neither of them could fall apart if they had Sabrina to immediately attend to. It was a failsafe.
Hilda hoped Zelda wouldn’t balk at the idea, or become all haughty on her. She didn’t think so, not with all of the tension from her confrontation with Faustus. Zelda had expelled all of her energy and anger during that conversation, she’d simply be too tired to argue with Hilda now.
They needed each other. Even if Zelda would never say so out loud.
Now that Sabrina was settled, Hilda got herself into her pyjamas, and put on her favorite housecoat and slippers. It didn’t bring about the same sense of familiarity that it usually did, but Hilda felt comforted by it all the same. Grief truly did destroy everything that once felt familiar and safe.
Holding Sabrina, Hilda ventured downstairs to see how much damage Zelda had done, and upon opening the front door, shielded Sabrina from the cold by covering her with her housecoat.
“Zelds?” Hilda’s voice was small.
“Yes, Hilda?”
Suddenly, Hilda felt nervous. She couldn't see her sister, but knew that tone of voice of hers. All she could see was the hand that held her cigarette in the night air.
“Sabrina and I are all set for bed. I didn’t know if you wanted to go wash up…”
A beat of silence greeted Hilda and she bit at her lip hard, wondering if Zelda would crack now, if she would have to pick up the pieces of her sister and put her back together again.
Hilda waited for destruction.
Then, she heard the dying embers of Zelda’s cigarette being smothered against a solid surface as her hand twitched, and watched as another cloud of smoke rose up from her fingers into the air.
“I’m going to bring Sabrina back inside.” Hilda stated when Zelda didn’t move, and shut the door, a potentially lethal action against Zelda but Hilda couldn’t stand the stony silence anymore. She needed warmth, stimulation, and so she set off for the kitchen, along the way pointing out things to Sabrina, who was half asleep against her chest.
A minute passed and Hilda heard the door open, and quick footsteps, accompanied by the fresh scent of cigarettes.
It comforted her more than she would ever dare admit to Zelda.
As Zelda wandered upstairs, Hilda occupied herself in the kitchen. She put Sabrina in her high chair so that she could use both of her hands and absentmindedly set to work. As to what, she truly had no idea, but she knew that she needed to keep moving. She started with re-washing the dishes she had done this morning, aggressively scrubbing at any detected or suspected mark until she broke a nail. She then moved to folding hand towels, making sure each one was perfectly aligned and folded correctly.
Hilda had nearly lost herself in the process of reorganizing her various pots and pans when suddenly, the air in the whole house changed. That spark of electricity was back, and what’s more Hilda felt the sensation of an incantation circle being enacted.
It was a strange feeling, when another used magic, but Hilda had known her sister for centuries and knew exactly what it felt like when she used magic.
Muttering a curse, Hilda quickly grabbed a sleeping Sabrina (she had fallen asleep with her head to one side in the high chair at some point) and bounded up the stairs as fast as she could. Her own magic told her where Zelda had lit the incantation, and Hilda burst into the bathroom.
The scene before her was just as reckless as she had imagined it would be. Zelda in one of her beloved kimonos, one leg in the tub with water that looked far too pretty to be water from Greendale’s well system, candles all around her.
“Zelda Phiona Spellman, what in Satan’s name do you think you’re doing?”
It was the closest tone to scolding she could embody without waking Sabrina, but Hilda’s anger boiled over. Hadn’t they lost enough? Did Zelda really need to do this? What did she possibly hope to accomplish with this insane plan?
“You promised me!” Hilda whispered, wanting to burst into tears but knowing she couldn’t, “You promised you wouldn't do anything rash.”
Zelda’s mouth opened to speak but all she offered was silence, and that silence scared Hilda more than any explanation could.
“I’ll be quick,” she stated as she glanced at the waters of the Mediterranean, and it took all of Hilda’s self control not to throttle her. Instead she spat out, “And what am I to do while you engage in your suicide mission?”
“Stay with the babe, obviously.” Zelda still wouldn’t look her way.
Hilda watched as she put her other leg into the cold waters, and Hilda felt her heart lurch into her throat.
“ Zelda …” Hilda managed, in a threadbare voice that made her feel like such a child but she couldn’t stop herself. “You can’t save them, Zelds. There’s nothing to gain in risking your life like this.” Hilda’s voice wavered. “I can’t lose you too.”
There was a pause, and then a slight chuckle from Zelda.
“You’re not going to lose me that easily. After all, I’ll be the death of you, and you, sweet sister, shall be the death of me.”
Zelda looked up at her then, and finally saw the tears that had been gathering in her eyes.
“Hilly…” she sighed, and Hilda really did almost sob then, for Zelda only used that nickname on the rarest of occasions, “I’ll be fine.” Zelda paused, nonchalantly adding, “And if I’m not back in three minutes, you have full permission to drag me out by my hair.”
“ Three minutes -!” Hilda nearly dropped Sabrina at that, and her panic spun full blown, “Of all the- you could be dead at the bottom of the ocean floor in three minutes time, you could-, Zelds no, please, don’t do this.”
Zelda didn’t answer, didn’t even look at Hilda as she disappeared beneath the depths.
Hilda swore quite loudly once she was gone, nearly waking Sabrina up. Thinking on her feet, Hilda magicked the crib to the doorway and set Sabrina down. If the worst should happen, she would need both hands to pull Zelda… no, no she couldn’t think like that.
With her heart in her throat, Hilda counted the minutes, cursing them for how fast and slow a minute could simultaneously be, depending on one’s needs. On one hand, she wanted it to go by quickly, to have Zelda back with her as soon as possible, but on the other hand, she wanted to give her time.
With three minutes on the dot, Hilda’s stomach started to twist when she saw no sign of Zelda in the water.
“Satan’s hooves, Zelda I’ll put you in the Cain Pit myself if you live through this,” she muttered to the water. She watched the tub like a hawk, until finally, she thought she spied something moving.
She plunged one hand into the water without thinking and clasped around what felt like a wrist. She pulled upwards, hard, for Zelda was deadweight. She got her up and over the tub, both of them sprawled out on the tiled floor as Zelda heaved for air, and Hilda let out a flurry of words that even she couldn’t decipher.
A blanket covered Zelda soon enough, for she was shivering something terrible, and throughout it all, Hilda’s hand remained tightly around Zelda’s wrist, as if she let go, Zelda would disappear on her.
When Zelda finally did look at Hilda, after catching her breath, she found that her sister’s face was tear-stained.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again, Zelda Spellman,” she got out in a sob. Her grip tightened on Zelda’s wrist but then Hilda crumpled and embraced Zelda fully.
“Where’s- where’s Sabrina?” Zelda asked hoarsely.
“In the doorway,” Hilda released her and took a good look at her sister. She was dripping wet, like a shipwrecked maiden, soaked through and trembling, “Asleep in the crib. I just kept her there in case I had to-”
It was then that Hilda saw the photograph in Zelda’s hand. She knew that photograph so well, she kept a copy of it in her desk along with the bulletin from the Church of Night on the day of Edward’s wedding.
Neither of them spoke for a moment.
“Sweet Satan,” Hilda’s voice wobbled, “so it’s true?”
The silence from Zelda was confirmation enough, and that hurt more than Hilda was expecting. She bit her lip, wondering what in the Heaven Zelda had gone through to get that, what she must have seen, even in those depths.
“What do we do now, Zelds?” Hilda’s voice was barely audible.
“ I don’t know …” Zelda’s mask slipped then, the one of the dutiful daughter, the responsible one, and Hilda saw her Zelds in that moment, her older sister trying to make everything better come Hell or high water. But just as it appeared, that mask came back on with her reply.
“But I’ll figure it out,” she attempted to stand on shaky legs, but Hilda stopped her.
“Sweet Lucifer, Zelda, will you just stop for one moment?” Hilda grabbed both of her arms steadily.
“I asked what we’ll do now? Not just you. You're not alone in this. And we will figure it out,” Hilda smiled half-heartedly.
Zelda offered her a nod in return, and a ghost of a small, tiny smile, although Hilda could have been imagining that.
“Now,” Hilda started, putting on her best I’m in charge voice, “You are going to sit here while I clean up and get some fresh jammies for you, and you’re not to move until I come back.”
It was a testament to how truly exhausted her sister was that she didn’t even give a snarky remark, just a simple nod of acceptance.
Hilda moved about downstairs with a purpose, not wanting to leave Zelda alone any longer than necessary lest she think of another dangerous idea.
Seeing Sabrina in Zelda’s arms comforted her more than she was willing to admit, and allowed her to breathe a bit easier.
“Someone has their Auntie Zee already wrapped around their tiny little finger…” Hilda murmured as she set the pot of tea down and the set of pyjamas, moved the crib over, and began to clean up the mess while Zelda perched herself in her chair at the vanity, with Sabrina in her arms.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Zelda remarked with a roll of her eyes, “and she is certainly not calling me Auntie Zee .”
“Zelda’s a hard name for a child to pronounce, you know.” Hilda pointed out as she finished up mopping the floor.
“If I had to pronounce my own name at a young age, so can Sabrina.”
“Back to your usual snipes I see,” Hilda commented, but instead of frowning, she held a small smile on her face.
A brief smile overtook Zelda’s face for a moment, before she masked it by tending to Sabrina, whose eyes had opened at the sound of their voices.
“Hello there, little one. Did we wake you?” Zelda kept her voice lithe and Hilda marveled at how gentle Zelda would be when she wanted to. Hilda finished cleaning the floor, and stood to find Sabrina asleep in Zelda’s arms. As sweet of a scene it was, Zelda still looked as though she would collapse to the ground at any moment, and as such Hilda held out her arms for the girl.
“I’ll take her for a moment, drink some tea and warm up.”
With Sabrina settled in her arms, Hilda magicked the crib back to the guest room she had set up, and entered the guest room, closing the door behind her.
In the silence, Hilda held onto Sabrina a bit tighter, the rush of emotions from Zelda’s near death experience finally hitting her. What was it with this family and testing Fate so carelessly? First Thomas, then Edward, now Zelda… If their parents were still around, surely Hilda would be praised as the only one acting sane, which would be so insanely ironic and ridiculous that Hilda let out a small chuckle, but soon sobered up.
Zelda had scared her tonight. The fact that she had nearly lost Zelda too along with
Edward and Diana tonight had been too much for Hilda to recognize in the moment, but now in the silence, it was overwhelming.
Hilda couldn’t handle a baby on her own, well at least not according to Zelda.
She constantly remarked on how soft Ambrose had turned out, a snide comment regarding the fact that she had mostly raised him on her own after Thomas died.
Truthfully, Hilda didn’t want to do it alone. As frustrating and endlessly annoying as Zelda could be, they balanced each other out, and they needed each other.
Wiping away tears that she had refused to shed earlier, Hilda set Sabrina down in the crib and inwardly cursed herself for idling. That was why she was upset. She simply needed to keep going.
After making sure the girl was asleep, Hilda went downstairs to pack up a load of laundry that she had left sitting for most of the day. It was dry and clean, but ever since Sabrina had showed up, her attention had been diverted to her niece.
She encountered Zelda on the stairs with a basket on her hip, looking rather frantic, which was so unlike her.
“Zelds, what are you doing up and about?!” Hilda tried to keep her tone light, but her sister still looked like she would fall over with one good breeze in her direction, and her annoyance must have leaked through her tone towards the end.
“That photograph, of Edward and Diana, I seem to have misplaced it. Could you check and see if it’s with the items you took from the bathroom?”
Zelda never misplaced anything, so her admittance of that had Hilda already on guard.
“Course, Zelds.” She put the basket down on the floor and went into the laundry room. Rummaging through Zelda’s soaked clothes proved fruitless and she ended up returning to Zelda with empty hands.
“I can’t find it, perhaps it’s on the vanity.”
“I checked, no sign of it there either.” Zelda bit her lip, a tell-tale sign she was nervous.
“Well, it can’t have gone that far. I’ll check upstairs again with you in a moment.” Hilda believed that to be true, but she also said it to ease Zelda’s anxiety. It seemed to have the desired effect as Zelda looked less worried as they climbed up the stairs and split off, with Zelda going to check on Sabrina and Hilda in the bathroom.
They climbed back up the stairs, and Zelda went to check on Sabrina while Hilda looked over the bathroom.
Hilda had just started to inspect the floor, to see if the photograph had gotten caught under the rug or under the clawed feet of the tub when she heard Zelda’s voice from the other room.
“Hilda! I found it.”
Hilda went to her immediately, inwardly grateful that she didn’t have to spend on the floor searching for it.
“Oh good, where was it?” She popped her head into the room to find Zelda in front of their niece.
“With Sabrina, in the crib.” Usually Zelda hid her feelings from Hilda, but she sounded in this moment just as perplexed as Hilda felt.
“How in the Heaven did it get there?” Hilda peered over Zelda’s shoulder to see the photograph, and voiced a noise of confusion. She tried to retrace her steps, and where she had placed Sabrina but didn’t see any clear connection between setting Sabrina down or in her arms and the photograph that Zelda had procured from the bottom of the sea.
“You didn’t place it there?”
“Swear on Satan’s claw,” swore Hilda with her hand, expression serious.
Zelda swallowed after a beat.
“Perhaps I still had it in my hand when I picked up Sabrina when she started crying, and she grabbed it.” She said, but Zelda didn’t sound too sure.
“Smart girl, just like her parents,” remarked Hilda with a grin as she tickled Sabrina’s nose affectionately, causing a squeal of glee, and then moved to ready herself for bed.
“Zelds.” She called out quietly when she saw that Zelda hadn’t moved an inch.
“Hm?”
“You should try and sleep.”
It was as close as a reassurance as Hilda could muster for her right now. Sleep wouldn’t bring back Edward and Diana, and it wouldn’t make either of them Sabrina’s legal guardians anymore, but it could provide some respite from this cruel world, even if just for a few hours. The foxglove Hilda had snuck into her tea should see to that.
Nothing but a heavy sigh left Zelda’s lips after that, and Hilda almost felt dragged under herself by the weight of responsibility behind it, the guilt, the shame, the grief.
“I promise you that Sabrina and I will still be here when you wake up.”
It was the only promise Hilda could give her right now. The only sure thing that they had; each other and Sabrina.
“I’ll try,” her sister replied, with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and Hilda could only hope, no pray that Zelda would lean on her during this time, that she could support her, that they both would weather through this storm together.
After all, they only had each other left.