Work Text:
PENELOPE
These airplane seats are impossibly uncomfortable. No matter how much I fidget and readjust, I cannot get into a position where something isn’t digging into my stomach, or my hip, or my thighs. It’s almost enough to assume that airplane companies have some sick vendetta against individuals who do not fit the perfect Western standards of beauty.
Wankers. The lot of them.
I look around to see if my friends have settled down as well. I am the only one who is sitting amongst strangers. Lucky me , I think, sarcastically.
Agatha and Shepard are sitting a few rows ahead of me. I do not envy her at all. In fact, she may give me an earful once we arrive back in London for saddling her with Shepard. The man is absolutely relentless. I can only imagine the thousands of questions he will no doubt be asking Agatha. I am silently wondering how long it’ll take Agatha to beg me to exchange seats. I had not intended things to work out this way, but the seats assigned to us were the only ones left on the flight back home. Since we were on this flight illegally (as well as technically kidnapping a Normal -- although he more than gave consent to come along to London), it was best to stick to our original seats.
The group was not happy with me when I told them I was smuggling Shepard into the UK. Simon, while actually getting along well with Shepard, was worried that I would get into more trouble with the Coven: “It’s just that. We’ve already broken a lot of rules. And isn’t this kidnapping?”
Baz felt it absolutely necessary to be a smartarse. Trying to repair his cool mask after the trauma we had just experienced. Typical of a Pitch.
“Adopting Normals, are we Bunce? Your mother will be so thrilled.”
“Well his personality is a lot more palatable than the vampire I adopted last year!”
“You slay me, Bunce. You truly do”, Baz had responded with a sneer.
Speaking of which, I turn my head to a few rows behind me, to where Simon and Baz are sitting. Although they were seated next to each other, both of them looked like they wished they could be sitting anywhere else. Baz is sitting next to the window, staring at the landing strip, a melancholy look in his eyes. Simon is sitting in the aisle seat, completely preoccupied with whatever is going on in his head. I sigh angrily to myself. Those impossible boys will be the death of me. I do notice Simon turning to look at Baz, maybe reaching over to him. I shake my head and turn back to my seat.
Nicks and Slick, there may be hope for those idiots, yet.
I may give them a difficult time, but it’s truly because I care about them. For both of them! Simon is my very best friend. I love him as if he were one of my brothers. All I want is for him to be happy in his life. His whole life has been about sacrifice and suffering. He’s never been allowed to have anything for himself. For once in his life, he has a reason to be happy and hopeful for the future. I just want him to allow himself to be happy. To allow himself to accept being in love and to be loved back.
And Baz does love him. Any fool could see that he is utterly devoted to Simon. Stupidly devoted, but devoted nonetheless. And he is a good man, and an absolutely brilliant magician. I wish we had become friends earlier on at Watford. That hard outer shell that seems to envelop every member of that pompous family is just that -- a shell. Inside, Baz is softer than any one of us, always looking at Simon as if he’s the center of his world. Simon is my best friend, but I also care about Baz and it has been very difficult to watch him suffer because neither one knows how to talk to the other.
They need to figure their feelings out. I had hoped that this trip would not only help Simon, but that maybe it would help them as well. My initial hope was that Micah and I would settle our own issues and we could all travel together, demonstrating that nothing is ever lost. Even the most hopeless situations could be fixed.
I was wrong. I was so incredibly wrong. I tug at my jumper, trying to not think about the last time I saw Micah. How foolish I was to think we could fix our relationship. Micah had signed off on our relationship a lot sooner than I did. I want to stare out the window longingly (take a page out of Baz’s book), but I am stuck in an aisle seat. Instead, I pull out my mobile, pop in some earbuds and start to listen to some music.
The deep bass and thumping drums of “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac starts playing and I groan to myself. Of course this song starts to play as I begin to contemplate my failed relationship.
“Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom . Well who am I to keep you down?”
The thing is, Micah NEVER told me he wanted his freedom from me. He never once expressed that he was finished with us. He never gave me the option to fight for us. He decided on his own that this relationship was dead. I suppose that’s why breakups are so horrible. Most of the time, it really takes one person to decide to end things, while the other is left blindsided and unprepared to deal with the emotional aftermath. This whole trip was a series of Penelope Bunce being unprepared for everything.
If you had given me a chance to fight, Micah, I would have fought. I can feel the tears beginning to fall down my face once more. The poor passenger next to me will think I’m absolutely batty. Maybe I am absolutely batty. I am crying tears for a boy. A boy that broke my heart. I wrap my arms around my waist and close my eyes. Morgana, I am pathetic. Where is your fighting spirit, Penelope Bunce!?
“Thunder only happens when it’s raining. Players only love you when they’re playing. Women they will come and they will go. When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know. You’ll know.”
The plane starts to move, leaving the gate. It won’t be too long now before we take off, leaving all of this ugliness behind. I don’t think I ever want to come back here. I think we will all be better off if we leave America well enough alone for the remainder of our lives. I say goodbye to Micah in my mind.
Goodbye Micah. I am sorry that I checked you off a list. I am sorry that I was too thick to realize that we were over a long time ago. I am sorry that you did not feel it necessary to inform me that you were done.
I am sorry FOR you, Micah.
I am sorry for you, that you were too cowardly to be upfront and honest with me. I am sorry for you, that you felt it better to give up on us instead of fighting for us. I am sorry for you, that you have resigned to live your life in mundanity.
“Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions. I keep my visions to myself. It’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams and have you any dreams you’d like to sell?”
Maybe I did check him off. Maybe I did decide that we had an established relationship and that there was nothing else to worry about. Maybe I was wrong in assuming that any relationship could be so certain. But that’s how it’s supposed to be, right? You meet someone, you get married, you start a family, end of story! You don’t have to worry about being in a relationship once your relationship is settled and secure! Once your relationship is settled, you can focus your time and energy on other pressing matters.
And there it is, I suppose.
“Dreams of loneliness, like a heartbeat drives you mad. In the stillness of remembering what you had, and what you lost. And what you had, and what you lost.”
I did take Micah for granted. I did assume that he would just always be around to wait for me. Wait for me to finish Watford. Wait for me to help Simon finish a quest; Wait for me to finish making sure that Simon is whole again. I mistakenly believed that he’d wait forever, and that was not fair to him.
At the same time… Erin . Baz was right when he told me that Micah was a coward. I assumed Micah would wait for me; Micah assumed he was free to date other girls, while still messaging me. Maybe this was for the best. After all, after the first night in America, I had stopped thinking about Micah. Even when I thought I was about to die in that vampire vehicle, Micah never once crossed my mind. Now, if I truly loved him the way that Baz loves Simon, wouldn’t I have thought more about him? Would I have made more of an effort to be with him? Who’s to say, really? That did not give him an excuse to hurt me like he did. His actions were unfair to me and caused me pain. He chose to accept the grey-area of our relationship as a reason to be unfaithful, and that was wrong.
“When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know. You’ll know. You will know. Oh, you’ll know.”
“Penelope. We are in the air. The seatbelt sign is off. Can we PLEASE switch seats. Your Normal is driving me mad!”
I snap out of my depressing thoughts as Agatha has begun to nudge my arms. I look at my watch. 40 minutes was enough to break her. I sigh and unbuckle my safety belt. I suppose spending eight hours next to a chatty Normal is better than being alone with my thoughts.
“I was hoping you’d last longer, honestly. And he isn’t my Normal!”
I take one last glance outside as the plane leaves the American skies behind.
Goodbye Micah. I wish you well in your life. I shall be alright in mine.