Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A soft staccato rapped against the closed door, drawing Scylla’s attention away from the book spread out on her desk. She set down her pen on the tiny notebook filled with delicate yet crisp handwriting and stood up. Her brow furrowed a bit as she peeked out the window. It was still a bit early, nowhere near meal time. Dusk was barely settling in. Through the open window she could hear the pounding of footsteps as cadets jogged in formation and the random shouts of drill instructors egging their charges on.

Approaching the door, she swung it open to reveal an exhausted looking Raelle. The blonde was slightly hunched over, palm flat against the door frame. The tenseness in her arm and shoulder showed the hand was supporting her more than she would let on. Dirt streaked her face and what looked like dried blood worryingly clung to the spot right behind her ear. 

The same spot Scylla loved to tease with soft lips when they were alone.

“Raelle?” she couldn’t hide the concern in her voice. 

“Hey,” Raelle tried to straighten her stance. She winced at the movement, barely hiding it with a muted grimace. Her training uniform was stained dark brown and tiny droplets of reddish liquid...she hoped it was water...clung to her eyelashes and shirt. Her jacket was no where in sight. 

“What happened?” Scylla ushered her in with gentle hands. 

“Hand to hand today.” Raelle limped into the room, as Scylla shut the door. The brunette quickly turned back around as she continued, “Outside in the Pits. Abigail and Swythe decided it was the perfect time to remember they pretend to hate each other.” A shrug, “Libba’s unit jumped in.”

“And you couldn’t let High Atlantic handle it herself.” Scylla concluded.

“Unit unity, right?”

Scylla shook her head, walking up and placing her hands on Raelle’s shoulders, “You look terrible, why haven’t you gone to the infirmary?”

“You should see the other guy.” Raelle tried to joke, but it came out as more of a pained grumble. “And, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Tired and bleeding.” she touched the flecks of dried blood. She chewed on her bottom lip as she felt the small cuts, healed but still there.

“It’s nothing. Barely a scratch back home. Not even worth talkin’ ‘bout.” Raelle tried to assure her. “Just need to walk it off.”

“Rae,” Scylla swiped her thumb against the curve of her jaw, “You can barely stand. You’re not walking anything off.” Her eyes roamed over the other girl, checking for any other visible injuries, “How did you even get here?” The Pits and training grounds were nowhere near the Necro barracks. 

“Wanted to see you,” she blinked at Scylla’s look, “Tally and Glory might have helped me.”

“Of course they did.” because everyone knew Raelle would have dragged herself over there anyways. At least the other two cadets didn’t let her be a complete idiot and end up face down in the middle of the road somewhere. “Where was Bellweather?”

“Shit talking Swythe’s Unit about how a fixer kicked their blaster and knower’s asses even after they tried to jump me from behind.”

Unit Unity. “Come on, Collar. Let’s get you out of these clothes and in bed.”

A wicked grin, “Best orders I’ve heard all day.”

The eye roll could have been felt a mile away. It probably was, “You’re in no shape for anything. You need to rest, and you’re filthy.”

“You like it a little dirty.”

Scylla quirked an eyebrow, leaning in to let her whispered words brush against her ear, “I like it when you can’t even make it to my bed because you need me so badly. When you pick me up and I can feel how strong you are, feel every single muscle in your arms, when I know you’re going to make me feel so good.”

Scylla pulled back to see blown pupils focused on her. Raelle tried to bend in, hands already reaching for her face, when Scylla held a hand against her chest, “I also like it when you don’t look like someone beat you up and can actually stand without being in pain.”

“W-What?” Raelle blinked slowly, mind not catching up.

Scylla pushed her back gently, “Raelle, you couldn’t lift a feather right now, let alone me.”

“I could lift a feather.” Raelle muttered.

An exasperated sigh, “Come on,” she tugged at the bottom of the mud caked shirt and pulled it up and off, leaving her only in her sports bra. Her hands absently tossed the garment to the floor as they slid down a slightly bruised chest. 

“You smell nice”

“I’m not covered in mud.” she made quick work of the belt and helped Raelle shimmy out of the rest of her pants, boots, and socks. “Go lie down.”

Raelle only nodded, easing herself over to the bed and dropping onto the cool sheets. She landed on her belly with a groan. 

Scylla scooped up the discarded clothes, moving them over to a pile in the corner before plucking out a fresh shirt. Leave it to her girlfriend to get into an actual fistfight over something that didn’t even involve her. Of course Raelle would jump into the fray headfirst without a care that she might get hurt. She could easily see the younger girl throwing herself into battle, taking on the entire other unit. Necros didn’t really work with units the way the other soldiers did. They didn’t fully understand the sense of...camaraderie they possessed. And Raelle had told her more than once about how Bellweather was an arrogant brown noser who thought she was better than everyone else because of her last name. But, she also had seen how Raelle started to become friends with Bellweather and Tally. How she cared about them. And, even if she hadn’t, Raelle was loyal. 

She had proven her loyalty to Scylla more times than she could count.

“Awake?” Scylla gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed near Raelle’s hip, “Want to put this on? I can get you some water.” 

Raelle mumbled into her pillow.

Scylla couldn’t help but smile at the cuteness, “Sleep for a bit. Then, you should take a shower. It’ll help you feel better. And, you won’t stink so much.” She tenderly rubbed her palm up and down the path of Raelle’s spine and placed the clean shirt on top of the locker near the bed, knowing Raelle was too worn out to change into it.

Raelle turned her head, squinting one eye up at her, “Take a nap with me.”

“I need to finish this, first.” she had to complete those notes for training later that night, “And we barely fit on this bed. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Wouldn’t hurt me.” the words sent a bolt of guilt through Scylla, because hadn’t she already? “Finish what?” she groped blindly at the bed until Scylla offered her hand. She barely tilted her head, peeking over her shoulder, “Shit, were you busy? You were doin’ somethin’.”

Scylla rubbed the pad of her thumb over Raelle’s cracked knuckles, unable to stop the burst of affection inside of her as the southern drawl became more pronounced. “Just a few notes.”

“‘M sorry.” Raelle let her head fully turn back into the pillow, “Go’n. Finish. Didn’ mean to interrup’.”

Yeah, Raelle was two seconds away from falling asleep. “You didn’t.” She bent over, pressing a small kiss to the back of her shoulder, “Rest, baby.”

Raelle was out before she finished her sentence.

Allowing herself a few moments, Scylla gazed fondly down at the soldier. Her back rose and fell evenly with each breath. There were a few patches of blue and purple on the otherwise flawless skin. Hair not tied up in braids was damp and tangled. The chain of her medal flashed as the sunbeams filtered in. 

Scylla traced the cut of her shoulder blade, letting her fingertips trace a line down to the band of her boyshorts. Her other hand held Raelle’s, not wanting to break the connection the simple touch created. She cradled it as if it were the most sought after treasure in the world.

It might have been.

A warmth sparked inside of her. It grew into a comforting blaze. Like a crackling fire on a cold winter’s night. She could stay there forever. Watching over this headstrong temperamental woman who skipped the infirmary and dragged herself all the way across Base just to fall asleep in her bed. 

Raelle more than once told her she liked it. Liked to be where Scylla was. Be able to wake up in her arms and see her smile before heading off to training. 

Raelle was so battered and bruised inside. Held so much hurt and pain. Scylla could feel it. Knew it just as well as she knew her own. Understood what it was like to be broken. Yet, Raelle was there. Warm and soft and no longer wanting to get herself killed. 

Scylla shuddered at the thought of Raelle dying on the front lines for an oppressive and unjust army. Having her life taken from her because she was different. Special. Because of who her parents were.

The military took and took, and they never cared. Never gave a damn about what it cost. About the shattered lives left behind. About the cruelty inflicted on people just because they had values and opinions of their own.

People, who went about their days, not caring that witches were forced to protect them. Taking for granted that every day a witch died so that they could act as if nothing was wrong with the world. Like they weren’t the savages forcing witches into a sick sort of blood sacrafice for their own satisfaction. Slaves sent to battle so they could stay home and drink wine and feel good about themselves.

Raelle was training, her body bruised and bleeding, and all so she could participate in some military industrial complex that targeted her from birth as another body to be sent to slaughter. 

Whether they burned at the stake or burned on the battlefield, they still burned. 

My pop is a civilian.

My mama died.

Raelle knew the costs. Had already borne them. And, past all the reckless rebellion and questioning of authority, she still took the oath. She still talked about her dad like he was the best man on the planet. Her mom was her hero. She questioned the army, but was still there. She secretly held a kernel of optimism that they could have a life together. She and Scylla. 

She didn’t turn her hatred against those who took from her.

She turned it inside.

And then she let it be replaced by Scylla.

Scylla, who was supposed to recruit her. Bring her to the Spree. Show her how she could use all the pain and grief inside to exact revenge and bring about true change in this world.

Bring about freedom.

Scylla believed in the Cause. She would never forget how the army brutally murdered her parents. She would never accept that forcing young women to fight in other people’s battles was right. Was ok.

But, something inside of her was shifting. She felt love more than anger. Happiness more than grief.

She felt love for Raelle.

Who was asleep in her bed after fighting someone else’s fight. Because that’s who she was.

She silently wished Raelle would never have to die for someone else.

“Scyl?” a sleepy voice pulled the necro out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, Rae, I’m right here.”

Raelle squeezed her hand, “Didja finish?”

Scylla swallowed, “Yeah, babe. I finished.”

“Good.” she shifted, “Come to bed.”

“Ok.” Scylla kicked off her boots and stretched out on the bed. She snuggled into a sleep warmed body.

“Stop thinkin’ so hard, beautiful..” Raelle ordered as she began to drift back to sleep.

Scylla let her eyes close, burrowing deeper into the embrace.

The way out is in.

Maybe the way out...was in Raelle.

Chapter Text

Scylla exhaled loudly, fingers restlessly fidgeting as she roamed her room. She glanced over at the open books on her desk. She should be taking notes. Preparing for class. Izadora expected her students to be ready to participate with no assistance or warning. You wouldn’t receive advanced notice in the field. You were the advanced notice. 

She couldn’t concentrate on that, though. 

The printed letters blended together into inscrutable indistinguishable blobs when she attempted to read. Her hand shook when she tried to write, causing her notes to be unintelligible scribbles. 

She chewed on her bottom lip and took another lap to the window. The rumors had come quickly. For a military base that prided itself on being able to keep secrets, it also prided itself on intelligence gathering.

It was excelling far more at the latter that day.

Who could miss the news? How during physical fitness training, one of the first year cadets had fallen. A nasty spill that might’ve broken a bone if not severely cracked her entire body. 

How another cadet had rushed to her side and healed the injury before the drill sergeants could force the fallen soldier to go to the infirmary. 

How the fixer used weird pago-christian bullshit chants that were so far outside of canon surely something was off. Something was wrong with her. A damn weirdo who would probably do who knows what to you. How unusual it was that her drill sergeant let her use that type of magic.

Yet, it was also the same crazy cadet who was in the infirmary not even a few days ago because she tried to heal a dead man. Ran straight to a boy who flung himself off a roof and nearly got herself killed in the process.

Scylla bit her lip so hard she tasted the faint tang of blood. 

Damn Raelle Collar.

Another lap back to the door. 

She shook her hands out, trying to get rid of the anxiousness tingling in her arms and seeping into her chest. She couldn’t stay still. Couldn’t quiet her mind. Images flashed in her head. 

Raelle on the ground next to Porter, eyes closed and lungs barely breathing.

Raelle being carried away to the infirmary, limp and unmoving.

Raelle, pressing her hands to a nameless faceless witch, murmuring under her breath as she took on the pain of another. 

Raelle not breathing. Eyes wide open and staring unseeing into the bright blue sky.

No, Scylla shook her head. That last image hadn’t happened. Wouldn’t happen. 

A glimpse of the past tickled her memory. Worried faces peering at her, urging her to hide before disappearing. 

Her parents.

A swift knock at her door dragged her out of her thoughts. Taking a deep calming breath, she forced her features to relax into a calm passive expression. She couldn’t let anyone else see what she had hidden for so long. The pain. The guilt. The anger. The sadness. Outwardly calm, she closed the distance and swung the barrier open.

And was met with an angry Abigail Bellweather.

Scylla almost frowned, ready to say something that would make High and Mighty bristle, before she caught sight of the short blonde tucked into the tall girl’s side, arm slung around her back.

“Here.” Abigail, maneuvered Raelle so she staggered a bit before leaning against the door jamb, “Dumbass Shitbird is all yours.”

Raelle scoffed, eyes squinting.

Scylla remembered she’d been suffering headaches.

Ever since Porter.

Abigail turned blazing eyes on her unit mate, “I swear, Collar, if you ever do something like that again, I will kick your ass.” She pointed at Scylla, “She wanted to come here. Something about a date. I don’t care. Just...take care of her.”

“I’m fine, Abigail.”

The glare was intense, “She practically broke her back, Raelle.” 

Scylla’s eyes widened. 

What?

The returned stare was just as strong, “It was Glory. Tally couldn't have handled something happening to her.”

Neither cadet looked away.

“Hey,” Scylla ran her hand down Raelle’s arm, grasping her hand, “Thanks for bringing her, Bellweather. I can take it from here.”

“Yeah, have fun with that.” Abigail rolled her eyes, “I’m going to check on Tally.” Her parting words were shot at Raelle as she moved to leave, “Don’t do anything else stupid today.”

Raelle shook her head in annoyance as she watched her walk away, “Whatever.” When Abigail was out of sight, she twisted her head, letting steely blue orbs settle on Scylla. A lazy grin spread across her face, “Hey, beautiful.”

Scylla didn’t smile. 

“Get in.” she tugged on their linked hands. 

Raelle stepped across the threshold, wincing as she moved. Scylla wordlessly led her over to the bed. As they drew close, Raelle pivoted slightly, drawing Scylla’s hand up to her mouth. She placed a casual kiss against the back of it.

Scylla pulled her hand free.

A confused frown marred the fixer’s face at the action. Blinking, she leaned toward the brunette, angling her head for a kiss.

A palm met her chest, stopping her.

“Sit down.” Scylla ordered. She gently but firmly pushed, forcing Raelle to drop down onto the edge of the bed.

She visibly bit back a groan.

“Scyl?”

Scylla marched over to her desk, opening a drawer and blindly rummaging inside.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Raelle started to stand up, grimacing as her back stiffened in protest.

“I said sit down.” Scylla refused to look at her.

“Ok,” Raelle settled back down, “Want to tell me why you’re acting like this?”

“Like what?” Scylla slammed the drawer shut, “Like my girlfriend recklessly got herself hurt for no damn reason?”

Well, there went that complete lid on her emotions.

“I’m fine."

“That’s why Bellweather was practically carrying you here? Because you’re fine?” she chuckled in disbelief, “Does she normally have you in her arms, then? Must be a Unit unity, thing. I bet you snuggle together and make charm necklaces, too. Is her’s bright pink? Maybe she can also carry me around Base. We can bond.”

“What is going on with you?” Raelle was not even close to smiling anymore.

“Really, Raelle?” she gestured at her, “Haven’t you learned anything, yet?”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” Raelle’s voice lowered defensively, “You know us Cessions. We ain’t the smartest.”

“Don’t even start that. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Do not try to push it off onto something else.”

“Because you never do that. You always talk to me and don’t change the subject, right?”

The room grew deathly quiet.

Raelle dropped her head first. She picked at the sheet, “It was Glory. What was I supposed to do?”

“Let her go to the infirmary. Have the fixers fix her.”

“I’m a fixer.”

“You’re still hurt!” Scylla’s voice rose. She paused, fighting to regain her composure, “You’re still hurt, Raelle. And, you’re a first year. You’re still in Basic.”

“I’m fine. And, even if I wasn’t, it’s not like I’m going to be 100% all the time.”

“There is no reason Glory couldn’t have gone to the infirmary.”

“I was right there.”

“You were stupid and reckless!”

“I’m a fixer, Scylla. This is what I do.” Raelle went to stand up, but her back caught with a grimace. She froze, cursing at the pain.

“Goddess, Raelle, sit back down.” Scylla tenderly grasped her shoulders and guided her back onto the bed. Her fingers curled into the curves of the already battered jacket, and she slid to stand between her legs, “Did she really break her back?”

Raelle gave a tiny shrug, the action resulting in a streak of pain, “Don’t know. Probably not.”

“Damn it, Raelle.” she fisted the material in her hands, “You could have died.” She itched to sing a seed, perform some basic song that she learned her first year to help ease the pain. But, she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk linking with Raelle...Raelle seeing what had happened with Porter. The meetings with the blue balloon. The darkness that was slowly dissipating in Raelle’s light. She couldn’t heal her pain because of the lies and pain already inside of them. Inside of her.

That hurt the worst of all.

“I didn’t…”

“You almost died, Raelle.” Scylla cut her off. “You tried to fix Porter and you ended up in the infirmary. They were saying you should’ve died. That you were so close they thought you were actually gone for a minute.” Tears coated her voice at the memory. How she stood there and listened as two second year fixers talked about her girlfriend nearly dying like it was some fascinating lab study instead of real life. She blinked, slanting her head to push back the wetness in her eyes. Taking a shuddering breath, “You almost killed yourself trying to fix someone, and it’s barely been two days since you were released, and you’re trying to do it again?”

“This is what I can do, Scylla.” Raelle replied.

Fear trickled into her words, “You were reckless. You’re always so reckless. You just act! You can’t keep doing that.”

She refused to think how Raelle’s penchant to jump before she looked was why they were there right now. How Raelle ditching her first training lesson...offering to walk a girl back...leaning in for that second kiss was why they were even together. Why all these feelings inside Scylla warred with the logic yelling at her to get this mission over with and turn her over to the Spree. Why that voice of logic in her head had already been beaten by the calling in her heart.

“I’m not going to stop trying to fix people, Scyl.” Raelle ground out, “It’s what my momma taught me to do. She taught me to fix people, just like she did.”

“You can't fix everything!” Guilt and pain churned deep in her belly, mixing with the grief and fear in her blood. Raelle couldn’t fix everything. She couldn’t fix the fact they were both conscripted. Couldn’t fix that every day witches were dying. 

She couldn’t fix this. No matter how charming her grin or how sweet her kisses, she couldn’t fix the ache inside of Scylla. She couldn’t fix the fact that Scylla was lying to her. That Scylla was going to hurt her. That the thought of anything happening to her made Scylla feel like her entire world was ending.

She couldn’t fix the hole in Scylla’s heart that appeared every time she wasn’t in Scylla’s arms. Couldn’t fix the broken shell of a girl that was filled with warmth for the first time in years the moment they first touched.

She couldn’t fix it.

“If you don’t take care of yourself, no one else will.” Scylla bit out. “The Army won’t. They will use you. Take and take until there is nothing left.” To the Army, Raelle was nothing more than enslaved war meat sent out to die for people who would never meet her, never care about her.

The agony in Raelle’s words chilled her to the bone, “You think I don’t know that? You think I don't know how a nobody like me will be treated? A half civilian cession? You think...I don’t know what they did to my momma?” Raelle’s mom was gone. Dead. Because of the military. Because the Army used her until she was exhausted. Spent. Done.

Scylla gulped back her emotions. She apologetically massaged Raelle’s shoulders, hands sliding up to caress her neck and face, “Raelle.”

The blonde sniffed, angrily rubbing the back of her hand over her nose.

Scylla cupped her cheeks, lifting her head so their eyes met, “I can’t lose you, too.”

She couldn’t.

She’d lost so much. Everyone she ever cared about. Gone.

She couldn’t lose Raelle.

Her chin quivered, “You are so brave...and reckless. You run in headfirst. And, I like that about you. I do. But, one day you’re going to run in to fix someone, and you won’t come back. You’ll give your life for someone else’s. Die to save someone else. I can’t accept that. I can’t let you die to save someone else.”

Raelle softened under her touch, “It’s my job, Scyl.”

“Not like that.  

Raelle hesitantly raised her arms, back spasming as she touched Scylla’s hips, holding her. “You know I didn’t care when I first got here.” Another sniffle as her mouth wobbled, “I wanted to get shipped off to the front lines and get it over with. I saw what happened with my pop. How...broken he was after my momma didn’t come home. He...we...it hurt so much. To have that medal sent back and nothing else. To only have her letters.”

Scylla soothingly tucked an errant strand of hair behind Raelle’s ear, tracing the curve of her jaw. 

“I never wanted to do that to someone.” Raelle continued. “I never wanted to make someone else go through what we did.” A hint of a smile cracked, “But I met you.”

Scylla felt her heart tighten and flutter at the same time.

“I don’t want to hurt you. But, I like seeing you. Being with you. It’s,” her voice choked off with a wet huff, “I want to come back to you.”

Goddess.

“Raelle,” she slowly fell to her knees. She shuffled close, pressing a tearful kiss to a shaky mouth. She kissed her again and again. Raelle met her half way, returning the comforting balm with her own silent assurances and promises. Scylla broke away and peppered butterfly kisses along Raelle’s chin and cheek. As her mouth ghosted over Raelle’s ear, she whispered, “I want to come back to you, too.”

Raelle smiled. She dipped her chin, letting their foreheads meet. She kissed her, “Fixing is the last thing I have of my momma. She taught me how. I need to do it.”

Scylla cupped the back of her head, “Ok.” Another kiss, “Ok.” Their noses brushed, “Please, be careful. Choose yourself. If it comes down to you dying, choose to protect yourself.”

“Scyl,”

“I will always choose you, Raelle.” Scylla spoke seriously, “Please, I need you to choose you, too.”

“I’ll try.”

“You’re so stubborn.” Scylla’s eyelashes fluttered.

“Stubborn enough to see if I can get you in this bed with me before you remember you’re mad?”

Scylla couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up.

Raelle nuzzled her cheek, the corner of her mouth, “Don’t act like you don’t want to.”

“Have sex with someone who can’t move without wincing? Mmm...not sure you should be rewarded for bad behavior, Private Collar.”

She kissed the smooth column of her neck, “Punish me, then.”

Scylla angled her neck, offering more of the creamy skin to the wandering mouth, “I don’t need Bellweather back here telling me how I broke her fixer.”

“Break me, baby. It’d be worth it.” 

Goddess.

Scylla’s hands dropped to the edges of Raelle’s jacket. She pushed it off the thin frame, mouth suddenly dry and a familiar unquenchable need sparking between her legs. “Seduction as a distraction. Interesting choice.” She forced herself not to think about how she thought that was what she was doing when she first laid eyes on Raelle. The plan which lasted less than a week.

She didn’t think about how confused Raelle had continued to be after Porter. How she was asking questions. How she was unknowingly putting herself in danger. Making Scylla nervous. Making Scylla scared. Making Scylla wish that everything would go away for one moment and she could just be with Raelle. That nothing would ever happen to the young cadet.

She didn’t think about how Raelle was supportively waiting for Scylla to open up to her more. And how that was just as scary.

“We just fought. Make up sex is healthy.” Raelle sucked on her pulse point, “Let me choose you, Scyl.” Her tongue swirled, “Let me in. Please.” 

Scylla gasped at the sensation, “You’re too smooth for your own good.”

“Can’t help it when I have a beautiful girl in my arms.” She nipped tenderly, “Help me feel better. Beltane is so far away.” Her voice dropped, “And I don’t want anyone but you, anyways.”

Scylla fisted the hair not already caught up in braids and pulled Raelle back into a messy kiss. She eagerly but gently pushed Raelle back until she was laid out on the bed. She crawled up her body, fingers tripping over the buckle of a belt as she tasted the hallow of Raelle’s throat. “Let me heal you.” lips sucked and soothed.

Raelle threw an arm over her face, a moan on the tip of her tongue. 

Hands tugged at the belt and slipped between legs, “I choose you.” She kissed her, “I choose you.”

Chapter Text

It was dark, only the faint tendrils of the fading late afternoon sun skirting underneath the closed garage door and illuminating a tiny strip of yellow on the cold concrete floor. Scylla crouched in the corner, the overwhelming blackness covering her. She could feel the dampness of the ground and smell the whiff of dust and oil in the still air. A can of paint, leftover from the previous tenants, poked her back, and the tickle of broom bristles teased her arm. 

She held her breath, not daring to let her lungs contract. Not allowing a sound to be made from her lips. 

She was supposed to be finishing her homework. She had just started school. A ramshackle place that had old used textbooks and a barren lacrosse field. Not much. But, it was their new home. Where she was known as Scylla Ranson and kept her head down her first day as she navigated the neighborhood. She hadn’t made any friends. Most likely wouldn’t. Dodgers kept to themselves. It didn’t make much sense to interact with people you wouldn’t see in a few months because you had to keep moving. The only people she really knew were the other dodgers in her group. Like Porter. He was...nice. In his own way. Intense. Nervous. Angry. He acted like he could protect Scylla, but he just didn’t seem to get her. She didn’t need his protection. His heavy arm over her shoulder. She just...wanted someone she could talk to about stuff. Who didn’t feel like a weight on her chest. Someone that made her feel light and happy. Not...scared of being caught all the time. 

He hadn’t arrived yet with his family. 

But, beyond not having the boy by her side, her first day went well. 

She even caught sight of a cute blonde in baggy jeans and a weathered flannel darting around the hallways as she stepped into her chemistry classroom.

But, that had been earlier. Before she got home to find her parents making soup and sandwiches. Grilled Cheese and tomato soup. A comforting favorite to celebrate a successful first day. 

They never got to touch their meal.

The military police showed up.

Found them.

They had been so good at hiding. At staying undetected. 

Except this time.

Except this moment.

Her dad went to meet the witches, hands up and unwilling to fight. He wasn’t the type. He was...kind. Friendly. A pacifist to his core. 

Her mom ushered her into the garage. Ordered her to hide. To not make a peep. 

To not move, no matter what she heard.

Her jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached as she listened. Heard the soldiers order her parents to stand there. To not move. Accused them of being traitors. Cowards.

They didn’t listen as her parents tried to go willingly with them. Promised to not fight them.

The low hum rang in her ears like a tornado. Loud. Unending. Vicious. 

Haunting.

She couldn’t move. 

She needed to move. To help. They were going to hurt her parents. Her mom and dad. Her family. The two people she loved. The two people who made her world bright and happy.

The thud of a body hitting the floor echoed in the small space.

No.

No.

Another thud followed.

No.

NO!

Scylla’s eyes flew open, her chest heaving and cold sweat dripping down her back. Her entire body tensed as her gaze flew around, desperate to find something...anything. It was so cold. So dark. She felt trapped. She couldn’t move. She was pinned to the ground. 

“Scyl?” a groggy voice mumbled behind her. 

Scylla gulped for air as the arm slung casually around her waist shifted, a warm palm slipping under her shirt and flattening against her belly. 

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

“Scylla?” the voice grew more clear. “Hey...wha’s...what’s wrong?” the hand pressed more firmly against her clenched stomach. The body behind her, soft and familiar to the tiny corner of her mind not still in that garage, moved closer, propping up on an elbow and slightly angling over her shoulder, “Scylla?”

Scylla didn’t respond. Couldn’t. 

“Hey, Scyl. Babe.” a quiet curse, “You’re shaking. Hey, you’re ok. You’re ok.” Arms more fully enveloped her, cocooning her in a sense of safety she only ever felt with one person now.

“Raelle?” Scylla swallowed thickly, forcing her mind back to the present. Out of that garage. Away from the fear and coldness. To her dorm. 

Back to the bed she was sharing with her girlfriend after a long day of training.

”Yeah.” Raelle dipped her head, brushing a light kiss against her temple before leaning further searching for blue eyes, “Nightmare?”

Scylla pursed her lips. All she could do was nod. 

She had to get herself together. 

It had been a while since she had this dream...this memory.

She couldn’t...she just couldn’t.

Raelle rubbed her belly gently before letting her hand slide free. Cautiously, she reached for Scylla’s hand, curled protectively against her chest. She slowly worked Scylla’s fingers out of their death grip and folded her fingers between the slightly paler ones. “Want to tell me about it?”

Scylla closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

She was fine.

She was at Fort Salem.

She shook her head, “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Her chin quivered, but she forced her voice to be smooth. Unaffected, “It was nothing. Just some dumb dream.”

She could feel Raelle frown, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Scylla bit her lip, “Just imagined you trying to use those terrible pickup lines of yours. Terrifying stuff.”

A nose nuzzled past her loose hair and teeth nipped her ear, “Those lines worked on you.”

“Even scarier.”

Raelle rested her forehead against Scylla’s temple. Scylla basked in the feel of her so close. The peacefulness that touched her soul.

“You screamed.” Raelle’s voice broke the quiet. There was a tiny hitch in the murmur.

Scylla tensed for a moment before making herself relax, “Like I said, your lines are horrible, Raelle.” She attempted a smile, the broken jagged line of her lips invisible in the dark. “We should go back to sleep. Don’t want you to fall asleep in training again.”

Scylla held her breath as the last word left her mouth. She could feel Raelle wanting to say something. Expected it. Prepared for her to point out how Scylla was holding back. Wasn’t be honest. How she might have told Scylla she was with her, no matter what, but it was all a lie. Call her out for not trying to be better at this like she swore she would.

“Ok.”

Raelle didn’t believe her.

But, she wasn’t forcing her.

Scylla could cry.

“Ok.” Raelle repeated. She let go of her hand and began to roll away.

Scylla choked back a whimper at the loss of contact.

A second later, Raelle tilted her hips, swinging her leg over Scylla’s. The sheets, kicked off sometime in the night, were pulled over them, hiding them and cradling the two women in their own small world. Raelle wrapped herself tighter around Scylla, grasping her hand once more and tenderly sweeping her hair away from her face and neck. Scylla felt tears prick her eyes as the lightest of kisses dotted her throat and cheek. She unconsciously snuggled deeper into the girl behind her, heart aching at each loving kiss. Raelle nuzzled the back of her neck, ran the tip of her nose along the curve of her jaw, tasted the spot right behind her ear.

Scylla’s chest hurt. 

No. 

Her heart hurt.

It hurt so much. 

It burned with sadness and guilt and regret.

Claws tore at it, ripping and shredding viciously. 

She had to let it out.

She thought the Spree gave her somewhere to put it. All the pain inside.

But, it was still there. Searching. Needing. Consuming.

She didn’t know tears were dripping down her face until she tasted salt on her lips.

“My parents were killed when I was sixteen.” she whispered.

Raelle paused before kissing the back of her shoulder.

Scylla took a few moments before continuing, “Dodgers always keep moving. We were going west. We...we were even in the Cession. Stopped for a while. Settled down. Were in a house on a street with white clapboards and a yard.” Her voice cracked, “They found us.” Her throat bobbed, “My mom and dad were...they were good. They didn’t want to fight. They didn’t want to hurt anyone. They liked to read books and play board games. They were always kind to everyone we met.” Her mouth shook, “They were kind.”

Raelle listened quietly. Never interrupting. Letting her get it all out.

“I can still remember the smell. I was in the garage when they found us. I hid and I...I hid.” Her shoulders dipped with a shrug, “They killed my mom and dad. They tried to go with them. Told them they would. And the army didn’t care.” Her voice broke, “They didn’t care.” A faint whisper, “My parents were kind.”

She never talked about her parents.

About that day.

She’d told Raelle before that her parents died.

Things had gone south with the military when they caught up to the dodgers.

But, she hadn’t told her this.

And, now Raelle knew. 

Knew that she still dreamed about her parents. 

That she hid while her parents were killed.

Murdered by the army.

“Your parents sound nice.” Raelle pressed her forehead to the back of Scylla’s neck. “They made a great kid.”

Scylla huffed sadly.

“I’m not going to tell you it’s ok, because it’s not. If I could take this pain away from you, I would. But, I can’t. And it sucks. And life is...is really fucked up sometimes.” She squeezed her hand, “Your parents raised the best person I know. And only good people could do that. I think...they’d be really happy to know you’re ok. You’re trying to be ok.”

Scylla hugged the arms around her tighter.

“Thank you for telling me about them.”

“They would’ve liked you.” and she meant it. Her parents would have adored Raelle. Been charmed by her. 

Raelle grinned against her skin, “But, were they weird like you? Put milk in the bowl before the cereal?”

The laugh burst out unexpectedly. “What?”

“You’re so weird, Scylla. Everyone knows you put cereal in before the milk.”

"I’m weird?” her eyebrow ticked up, a thin yet strengthening block of brightness wedging into the darkness inside and forcing it away.

“Sexy weird.” Raelle recited, “I like it.”

“You better.” 

Scylla turned in her arms, wrapping her own around Raelle’s back as they faced each other. She could just make out the outline of her girlfriend’s face in the night, the spark of her gaze as it sought out her own.

“My parents,” she let the emotions wash over her, “were more toast and coffee type people.”

Their hands formed together, fingers playfully fighting as their palms joined. 

“That is a terrible breakfast.”

“It was nice. Comforting.” Scylla replied. “No matter where we were. No matter how little time we had. There was always time for toast and coffee.”

Raelle hummed, “If you say so.”

“Not everyone is a trash compactor like you.” it was well known Raelle could eat her entire meal and then some.

Raelle kissed the tip of her nose, “Butter and jelly? Jam? Not plain, right?”

“A bit of butter. A bit of jam.” She rubbed her thumb over Raelle’s, “Perfectly toasted. Not burnt.”

“Burnt toast is the worst.”

“Not sure how you would know, with how much jam you spread on your own.” The pieces would be dripping whenever Raelle made it.

“It tastes good.” She playfully guided Scylla onto her back, “Almost as good as you.” Back home, she rarely got things like jam and jelly. Being here, she let herself indulge in the stuff she couldn’t get back home.

Like the girl in her arms.

“Almost?”

“Might have to test it out. Run some experiments to be sure.” their mouths met.

“Me or burnt toast. I feel so special.” Scylla joked, cupping the back of Raelle’s head. 

“At least I don’t put milk in before cereal.”

Scylla giggled, “You are being such a child.”

Raelle swept her up in a long slow kiss.

When they broke apart, Raelle settled her hips against Scylla’s, “Keep sweet talkin’ me about jam and I might have sex with you at two in the morning.”

“It’s three.” 

“You are such a…” her words were cut off by insistent lips.

“Blackberry.” Kiss. “Strawberry.” Kiss. “Grape.” Kiss. “Apple.”

Words turned into moans as hands tugged at shirts and hips rolled beneath sheets.

As the sun slanted in through the window, Scylla stretched her sore muscles with a groan. Her hand flopped out to the side.

Where she anticipated a sleeping Raelle, she felt emptiness.

Blinking her eyes open, she peeked around.

Raelle was gone.

Which was new.

She heard the bells for inspection ring in the distance.

A frown. Usually Raelle either woke her up to say goodbye before sprinting off for inspection or, valiantly trying to let Scylla sleep, stumbled noisily around the dark room and smacked into the door loud enough to wake anyone within hearing range.  

It was a wonder Raelle hadn’t knocked herself out yet.

Sitting up, she let the sheet pool at her waist. Her stomach grumbled, and she rolled her shoulders. 

She should have enough time to shower and grab a piece of fruit in the mess hall on the way to class.

Not much, especially after last night, but it would have to do till lunch.

Ducking around to get out of bed, Scylla froze.

There, on top of the locker next to her bed, was a plate and mug with a quickly folded piece of paper propped against it. 

Two pieces of perfectly toasted bread with light smears of butter and jam were stacked together. Steam wafted up from the coffee in the mug nudged up against the plate.

Trembling fingers reached out, tips running across the rim of the cup before snagging the note.

She brought it up, flipping it open so she could read the writing inside.

Hey beautiful,

Had to go for inspection. Tried to let you sleep in. 

There’s always time for toast and coffee, though.

See you tonight. 

R

Scylla held the note to her chest. 

The toast and coffee were the best she had ever tasted.  

Chapter Text

Death is life is death again.

She should have been there.

She should have known.

She had to be ok. 

She had to be.

That’s what flashed through Scylla’s mind as she flung herself out of the truck before it even slowed down enough to pull up near the gaggle of jeeps and humvees outside of the infirmary. The sickening stench of death hung in the air, crushing her lungs and making her stomach clench.

She used to be fine with the scent.

Took small comfort in it. The familiarity.

Not anymore. 

Not now.

Not here.

Her skin prickled and nose twitched. Ash floated in the air like perverse snowflakes. Holes were burnt in the once pristine grass. Large jagged craters carved up the pavement. Tiny canyons criss crossed her path. 

Blood still clung to tree branches.

It had been a bloodbath.

The reports trickled in slowly, then hot and fast.

Scylla didn’t know.

Not at first.

She had been away. Sent with a small group of other necros and knowers to scout out a rumored Camarilla headquarters. 

Fucking Camarilla.

The military and Spree were forced to join together. Every witch was in danger. Whatever thoughts or beliefs that differed between the two sects were set aside for a brief moment of unity in the face of total destruction.

Trust was in short supply, and tensions ran high whenever a Spree interacted with a soldier, but they still stood shoulder to shoulder. Still battled to protect their sisters. Their culture.

Their loved ones.

Scylla’s feet slapped against the ground as she sprinted. Her boots slashed through the mess, scrambling over debris and around dazed soldiers toward the building in front of her.

She had been on a mission, and the Camarilla attacked Fort Salem.

Attacked the War College.

It was unheard of. Unthinkable. The amount of protection cast upon the Base plus routine patrols should have made it impossible for anyone, let alone humans, to breach its borders.

Yet, the Camarilla found a way.

Bastardized their voices and their seeds to descend upon the sleeping soldiers before dawn even broke across the sky.

By the time Scylla returned with the disappointing and annoying knowledge that the alleged Camarillia headquarters was a bust and a complete waste of time and resources, the battle was over.

The Camarilla had been driven back. Defeated. Retreated to fight another day. 

But, at a cost.

Scylla crashed into the half open door of the infirmary. She yanked it out of her way and bolted inside.

The smell of fear and agony hit her like a brick wall.

She staggered. The sounds of pain filled moans echoed between the walls. 

Her breath caught in her chest as she saw the chaos.

The carnage.

Bodies littered the beds lined up in front of her. Bleeding and broken cadets were propped up against walls, some strewn across the floor like rag dolls. 

The cadets had fought bravely. Valiantly. 

But, they were still cadets. Students in War College along with first year privates in Basic. Slumbering young women who, instead of getting a few more hours of rest before inspection and class, were torn out of bed by sharp blades and fire.

Gulping, Scylla desperately scanned whatever faces she could see. 

No.

Not her.

Not that one.

Not her.

Where was she ?

An officer, a corporal from the stripes on her shoulders, stepped by Scylla, arms full of bandages and face grim. Scylla’s hand shot out, gripping her arm, “Collar. Raelle Collar.”

The Corporal frowned and shrugged her off, “Don’t know.”

Scylla tightened her hold, “Where is Raelle Collar?”

“I don’t know.” she ripped herself free and swept away.

Scylla pressed her lips together in a thin line. She couldn’t panic.

She had to find Raelle.

Raelle, who had barely spoken to her in months.

Who was dead.

But, came back.

Who Scylla still fucking loved.

Who Scylla needed to see. Needed to make sure was ok.

Because Raelle held her heart in her hands, and Scylla couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t pretend to live in a world where Raelle wasn’t in it. The other woman could hate her. Despise her. Tear her to shreds.

Scylla just needed her alive.

She rushed further into the room, head swiveling left and right as she prayed that Raelle wasn’t in one of those beds. Wasn’t dying.

Wasn’t already gone.

Glancing to her right, she didn’t see the redhead pop up and step into her path.

They collided, Scylla bouncing back as the other witch let out a little squeak.

A growl, then her eyes widened, “Tally?”

“Scylla.” Tally Craven stood before her, lines around her hardened eyes and uniform rumpled.

Scylla opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Tally Craven. Raelle’s friend. Her Unit mate. 

A connection.

She licked her dry lips, face contorting as she tried to get out the words. They were trapped behind the lump in her throat. Unable to break through the terror.

Sensing her struggle, Tally sighed. She placed a hand on her shoulder.

Scylla didn’t even know her entire body was trembling until that touch.

“She’s alive.”

Her knees nearly gave out.

Tears burned.

“Is...is she…” Scylla choked out. “Where is she?”

Tally seemed to nod to herself before speaking, “Come on.” The hand on Scylla’s shoulder guided her toward the far end of the room.

Raelle was ok.

She was alive.

That played in a loop in Scylla’s head.

She was alive.

She was alive.

“It’s good to see you.” Tally murmured sincerely. 

Scylla scoffed wetly, “Sure it is.”

Tally shot her a look, “You and Raelle are stubborn idiots. You hurt her, Scylla. But, she almost died. She did die. Now, she’s back and you two love each other. You need to stop ignoring that because we are in the middle of a war, and none of us know how long we have left. Don’t you want to spend it with the person you love?”

Not waiting for a reply, Tally drew her up to a clump of beds.

Scylla froze.

“She’s been here since the fight ended. Won’t even leave for a cup of water.” Tally muttered.

Scylla barely heard her. She didn’t notice as Tally walked away, announcing she was going to speak with Abigail.

Her gaze, her entire being, every single molecule, was focused on the blonde knelt by a bed, hands pressed lightly against the neck of a beaten body. The smooth cadence of her voice, worn down but still working, filtered in like sound through sea water to Scylla’s mind.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you

Through the rivers, they shall not flood you

When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned.

Her uniform was singed, black streaks angrily clawing at her back and sleeves. The cuffs around her wrist were torn and covered in mud and dried blood. Her hands, normally so strong and sure, shook with exhaustion. Cracked and covered in grime. Her scourge hung limply at her side. Rounded shoulders swayed as the tension in her arms caused her entire form to stiffen. 

Blood and dirt stained nearly every inch of her. 

And Scylla didn’t know if it was hers or not.

And, she didn’t care.

Rage, as bright and intense as the stars, curdled in her belly. 

“Raelle!”

The blonde flinched but didn’t stop.

Goddess, “Raelle Collar.” 

Raelle sat back on her haunches. Scylla heard a sniff and watched her thumb swipe at her nose. An unmistakable tick Scylla knew well. Raelle was emotional. 

And she was going to be an ass about it.

Scylla was not taking that shit today.

Not today.

With a grimace, Raelle planted a hand on the floor and slowly pushed to her feet.

Scylla got a full look at her.

It made her blood turn cold.

Red clung to nearly every single inch of her. It caked her cheeks and dug into her reddened eyes. Once bright blue orbs were dulled with exhaustion and coated in unvocalized hurt. Her lips were pale and pursed together in a way Scylla knew she was injured. She seemed to favor her left leg, and Scylla could see a part of the leg of her trousers was gone, burned away. The exposed skin was raw and screamed of a horror Scylla felt in her soul.

“Goddess.” Scylla breathed out, overcome at the image of the woman she loved looking like death had reclaimed her

Raelle’s throat bobbed, but she didn’t utter a sound. Instead, she sniffed and limped to the side, intent on going to the next bed.

“Raelle, stop.” 

She didn’t.

“Damn it, Raelle!” Scylla bit out. “Stop!”

Raelle glared at her, “Why are you here, Scylla?” She quickly added, “No, never mind. It doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for this.”

“The hell you don’t.” Scylla blocked her path. “Goddess, Raelle.”

“Move.”

“No,” Scylla gestured at her, “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, for someone with a damn death wish.” Scylla snarled. “You haven’t gotten any better at lying, don’t try now.”

“You would know about lying, wouldn’t you?” 

Scylla inhaled sharply, the jab landing. “You need to rest.”

“I need to do my job.” 

“Someone else can fix them. Take a break. Rest. Shower. Hell, get a cup of coffee.” worry tinged the anger, “Look at yourself!”

Shaking her head, Raelle tried again to step around her.

Scylla grabbed her hand.

They both paused. Neither seemed to breathe at the sensation.

How long had it been since they touched?

Even the barest brush of a finger?

“You’re tired. You just fought in a battle. Raelle,” Scylla blinked, “you’re going to kill yourself.”

“We all have to go sometime.” Her voice dropped to a mumble, "Not like it stuck the first time."

Scylla snapped.

“Fuck you, Raelle Collar. Fuck. You.” Her hold became unbreakable. With a harsh tug, she dragged the blonde away from the beds and to the nearest door.

“Let go of me.” ground out Raelle as she attempted to pull back. Her body, drained of every last ounce of strength, could only stumble along.

Scylla slammed through the door and roughly pulled Raelle through, shoving her against the wall. 

Raelle couldn’t hide the cringe as her bruised back touched….anything. “Scylla,”

“Shut up.” Scylla ordered. Her chest rose and fell with each harsh pant, “You are not doing this. You are not killing yourself on some stupid suicide pact you’ve had with yourself since Basic.”

“I’m a fixer.”

“You’re hurt!” she dug the heel of her palm into Raelle’s shoulder, smirking angrily but taking no pleasure at the wince, “You can barely walk. You’re fucking covered in blood, Raelle!” She voice dropped, “You’re covered in blood.”

“I’m fine.”

Scylla shook her head, “You’re not. You haven’t been since you came back. Even before that.”

“How would you know?”

“Because you might hate me, but I will always love you. ” 

Raelle’s jaw quivered as she clenched her hands into fists.

“I love you.” Scylla repeated, unable to keep the pain from her voice, “And I can’t lose you. Not again. So, you’re going to stop. You are going to take care of yourself  and quit being a reckless idiot.”

Scylla twisted the scratchy material of Raelle’s jacket between her fingers, right over where she knew a scar resided, “Hate me. I don’t care. Do whatever you want to me. But, do not make me have to go to your funeral again.” A lone tear broke through and slid down her cheek, “I can’t do that again, Raelle. I can’t.”

“Scyl,”

“You’re brave.” Scylla blinked, more tears falling, "You are so damn brave and powerful, and I hate it. I hate that you put others before yourself. Because, we both know how this ends. And, I can’t accept that. You promised me you would choose yourself. If it came between you and someone else dying, you would choose you.” She swallowed down a sob, “You broke that promise once already. Don’t break another promise to me.”

At the sight of Scylla breaking down, Raelle’s barriers broke.

She was tired of fighting. Of being angry. Confused. Hurt. Bottling up the emotions she kept telling herself she shouldn’t have, that didn’t exist in her anymore. 

She was so damn tired.

Her arms wrapped around the brunette, one hand cupping the back of her head while the other splayed across her back. With a sob, Scylla fell into the embrace. She hugged Raelle back, cradling her close.

It felt like safety.

It felt like home.

They clung to each other like a life raft in the middle of an ocean. 

Like they had found their one saving grace in the midst of a world full of hate and sadness.

The glimmer of peace in the brutality and cruelty of war.

Emotions and long days and nights catching up with her, Raelle slumped into the hold. Scylla tenderly rubbed her back, eyes closing as a nose brushed the side of her neck before burrowing into the curve of her shoulder. “I got you,” she whispered into Raelle’s ear. “I love you. I got you. Rest, baby. Rest.”

Raelle’s legs gave out, exhaustion total. Scylla caught her and slowly lowered them both to the floor. She leaned her back against the wall, pulling Raelle into her lap. Raelle’s head pillowed on her chest, and Scylla couldn’t help but place a tiny kiss to the top of her head. She cocooned the soldier in her arms, silently remembering what it was like to hold her like this. 

Back when they could be in love and act as if the outside world couldn’t touch them.

They couldn't go on like this. The absolute terror at hearing Raelle was attacked, and not knowing if she was alive or dead. Missions and unspoken feelings pulling them apart. 

The image of a battered and bloody Raelle, healing others while she herself bled would haunt Scylla for the rest of her days.

Stupid reckless selfless Raelle who took on others’ pain no matter how much it ruined her.

Not again.

Not anymore.

This war was not going to take Raelle. 

She was not going to lose anyone else she loved.

Scylla vowed to herself and her love. She would do everything to protect her. She would go through hell and ask for more if it meant seeing that charming grin one more time. 

“Let me take care of you.” Scylla whispered into Raelle’s hair, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of smoke, iron, and the faintest hint of pine and cession moonshine. She soothingly rubbed her thumb against Raelle’s shoulder, “We still need to go to the beach. I promise, we’ll go. You’ll hang up your medal and we’ll let the birds say our goodbyes.” Another kiss to her hair, “I promise.”

Chapter Text

The punch landed square on her jaw, flinging Scylla’s head back with a powerful crack. She stumbled to her knees as knuckles pounded into her cheek. The rough fabric of her attacker’s glove nicked the corner of her eye, and her teeth rattled at the brute force.

Everything had gone wrong.

So terribly wrong.

It was meant to be a simple mission. An abandoned warehouse allegedly used by the Camarilla before they left to seek a secret safehouse to spring their next attack from. In their haste to leave, Intelligence debated that vital information was left behind. 

A small team of knowers and necros from the army and Spree was formed to survey the building and gather whatever they could find. 

Someone forgot to tell the Camarilla to actually leave.

It was a trap.

Scylla swiftly brought her hands up and blocked a kick aimed at her chest. She scrambled back, memory desperately searching for training she barely received while at Fort Salem. Necros didn’t learn much beyond a day or two of casual half-baked fighting lectures. They didn’t even have scourges. Why would they? Their time was spent where the fighting was not. Labs. Leftover battlefields. 

Not in the middle of a damn surprise attack.

And, if they were, usually there’d be units of blasters and other battle hardened infantry witches to protect them. 

The military should probably work on that.

She rolled as a heavy boot stomped down, barely missing its target. Dust flew up, stinging her eyes and lungs and causing her to cough and blink rapidly. 

The taste of iron overtook her senses as warm bitter liquid filled her mouth and ran down her face.

The shimmer of a blade was the only warning she had before the sharp edge sliced down and across her arm. She cried out in pain, the cut instantly throbbing as blood coated her jacket.

She was going to die.

No .

She forced her body to move, to duck and weave. 

She was not going to die.

She was not going to let this man who mocked their powers and spilled filth about their culture win. 

She did not go through hell with the people she loved for this to be the end.

Catching his boot, she shoved him back. He staggered but quickly found his footing. The harsh vocals of the stolen seed continued to singe the air, stealing the witches’ ability to do anything more than hand to hand combat.

Scylla’s entire body felt like it was on fire. Her chest ached and could barely take in a breath before fists were raining down on her again.

The blade cut through the air, the metal whistling millimeters from her ear. 

She had to hang on. 

She had to keep fighting.

A hand grabbed her jacket, smashing her tiny frame to the ground. 

A burst of red tinged air jerked out of her mouth, spraying over the dirty floor. The world wobbled and her eyesight went fuzzy.

She lifted off the ground and seemed to pause in midair, like she was on Salva with a rope tied to her foot and a beautiful girl reaching for her. 

The earth shook as she was slammed back into it.

Pain.

All she could feel was pain.

Her mind started to shut down. 

She couldn’t think. Couldn’t hold on to a thought. Memories and images slipped by, just out of reach. 

She blinked back the daze shrouding her gaze and peered up at her killer.

She wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing her pain. 

As he lifted his arm to deliver one final blow, a crack sounded in the air. Brown rope, pure and strong, wrapped around his neck from behind. With a snap his head flew back and his body catapulted into the air. He landed out of sight, the thud as loud as a hurricane. 

The seed blasting overhead abruptly stopped.

It was quiet.

Finally.

Scylla smirked.

Then her eyes began to roll into the back of her head.

A body dropped right next to her, another soon following suit. Hands grappled at her, grasping her arm...her shoulder...her neck. Voices spoke above her, but she couldn’t make out the words. Couldn’t understand the string of syllables.

Fingers picked at the buttons of her jacket. 

She felt a touch ghost over the combat charm tucked away in the coat’s inside pocket.

The charm Raelle made for her so long ago.

The charm that reappeared in a box in her room one day.

The charm she told no one about but refused to ever be without.

“No,” she blindly batted at the hands. “No.”

They couldn’t take it from her. She wouldn't let them. It was hers. It was all she had left.

The only token of better times.

The only piece of Raelle’s love she could still call her own.

The hands tried to push hers away, but she only groaned in frustration. 

A voice called out to her.

She didn’t understand.

It tried to break through the fog clouding her mind.

The hands disappeared.

Then, one pair returned.

Palms firmly yet tenderly curled around her flailing hands. Familiar callouses tickled her skin and comforting fingers melded back into well worn spots.

“Scyl...Scylla...damn it. Scylla, hey.”

Scylla squinted. Her hands were pinned to the floor; someone hovered over her, straddling her hips. The weight was recognizable even to her addled brain. “Raelle?”

“Hey beautiful.” Raelle’s worried face came into focus, “I need you to calm down, ok?”

“Rae?” Raelle was there. How was Raelle there?

“It’s ok. You’re ok. We’re trying to help you.”

Help her? She tried to shift, but white hot pain, worse than lightning, spasmed her entire body. Her teeth grit as a weak whine escaped her blood soaked split lips.

“Don’t move.” Raelle ordered. “I’m going to make it ok.” Scylla could hear the twinge of panic in her voice.

“Hurts.” Scylla moaned, coughing up blood and spit. 

“I know. I know, baby. But, I need you to be still, ok?” Raelle’s thumbs rubbed soothingly against the faint pulse in her wrists, “You can’t move.”

Scylla’s head began to roll to the side, passing over the witches standing guard nearby, “Who’re…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Raelle cautiously released one of her wrists, finger and thumb softly touching her chin and turning her eyes back to meet intense blue, “Look at me. Don’t worry about anything. Just look at me, ok?”

“Ok.” she felt so tired. 

She wanted to fall asleep in Raelle’s arms again.

Feel the safety of being in her embrace. Knowing that when she woke up, a gentle kiss would warm her cheek and a heart stopping grin would beam down at her.

She stared up into the unblinking universe as loyal devotion pressed ever so softly against her bruised and sore chest. 

“ Do not fear for I am with you

Do not be dismayed, I will strengthen and heal you

Place me like a seal over your heart

For love is as strong as death

It burns like blazing fire

Rivers cannot sweep it away.”

Scylla felt the pain begging to ebb, her muscles relaxing. Her body sunk into the floor, energy drained and all that was left was a feeling of bliss. Of sore exhaustion. Like a long day spent hiking with her parents or dancing with the girl she loved. 

Or making love through the night.

She blinked, inhaling deeply as color returned to her cheeks and her skin became unblemished. The memory dug itself up, answering the silent call and burying itself in the established link.

Scylla blinked her eyes open, squinting into the night. It was still late...or early depending on how you looked at it. The sheets were pooled low on her hips, and a warm arm had lazily slipped over her waist. Warm air puffed against the back of her shoulder. Carefully, so as not to wake her sleeping girlfriend, Scylla turned slowly in the loose embrace. Raelle whined a bit, frowning as the bed dipped. She unconsciously pulled Scylla closer, burying her nose in Scylla’s shirt, sleepily nuzzling the dark fabric. Scylla couldn’t help but watch her. Silently let her gaze trace the slightly scrunched eyebrows, perfectly shaped lips, and dashing scar. Here, with the moonlight casting its pale shadow over the room and illuminating the peaceful face of her lover, Scylla had never felt safer. Happier.

She could live in this moment forever.

Memory after memory swam up, floating along the current tethering them together.

Music washed over them, their bodies swaying to the beat. Raelle looked dapper in her dress uniform. Gorgeous and handsome and what Scylla believed a princess charming looked like if such a thing existed and fairytales were real. The bell had chimed six times...and all she could do was hold Raelle closer. Steal one last moment, one last dance. She could never say no to her. Damn the military. Damn the Spree. Damn anyone or anything that wanted to take this beautiful soul away from her. 

“No matter what happens, I love you.”

The chanting stopped.

The pain was gone, replaced only with familiar exhaustion.

Raelle never broke their gaze.

Scylla could see the strain around her eyes. The pinch of her brow and the tremble of her chin. 

Could finally feel the absolute unyielding fear in her fingertips. 

Slowly, Scylla slipped her palms over the back of Raelle’s, causing the blonde’s breath to hitch. She shivered beneath her touch. The mask of strength covering Raelle’s features flickered, the ache of anguish and dread poking out from the camouflage of emotionless toughness.

“Hi.” Scylla whispered.

Raelle’s eyes finally closed, a shuddering breath causing her mouth to shake. She ducked her head.

Scylla swallowed, “Guess they took us Necros being close with death a bit too seriously.”

Raelle half laughed, half choked. 

“Work with, not as, the dead. Ameauter mistake. Didn’t they do the reading? Izadora would be pissed.”

The hands on her chest pinched her jacket tightly. Scylla watched as Raelle rocked gently above her, fighting to maintain some sort of composure.

Scylla mentally willed herself to not cry. To not succumb to the storm of fear and anxiety and surprise and hope and pain brewing inside of her. She plastered a smirk on her face, “Won’t complain about this, though. View is nice.”

Raelle’s face crumbled, “Damn it, Scylla.” She jerked the older girl up hard, swallowing Scylla’s gasp as their mouths roughly crashed together. 

Every single emotion raging inside Scylla burst into a blazing spectacle of color and feeling.

She instantly threw her arms around Raelle, cupping the back of her head and urging her closer, deeper.

Teeth nipped and tongues tangled as they let their hopes and dreams, wants and needs finally be free. Scylla pressed and pulled, needing more. Always needing more. Wanting to feel every inch of the other woman. Feel her heartbeat. Her soul. Her very essence. In return, she offered her all. Every breath. Every thought. Every single thing that made her who she was, made her the person who would love Raelle until the end of time. 

And even beyond that.

After what felt like the span of a moment, they broke apart, chests heaving and bodies trembling. Their foreheads met. Scylla felt everything and nothing. Her body hummed but all she wanted was one more second. She shook even harder when Raelle chased after her lips, wordlessly begging for another taste. Pleading for another touch. 

Offering herself and asking for the same in return.

Scylla pressed her hand to Raelle’s cheek, the side of her neck, her shoulder. She traced the edge of her ear and carved a path along the dip of her jaw. 

“Collar.” another voice broke into their world.

Raelle lingered, not moving away from the girl in her arms.

“Collar, we have to go.” Abigail looked over at them from her spot near the door where she had been standing watch, “Everyone else has been evacuated.”

Raelle nodded but didn’t let go.

“You and Necro can have your big dramatic reunion back at Base.” the tiny smile softened her words. “Preferably where I don’t have to see or hear it. Or worry about us getting stabbed. Again.”

“Better listen to your leader,” Scylla whispered, running a fingertip along her scar, “you know how a Bellweather can get about chain of command and being ignored.”

Raelle rolled her eyes but carefully stood up, helping Scylla to her feet. She sniffed, ducking her head and running the back of her hand across her face, “She’s not the boss of me.”

“I am when we are out in the field, Collar.” Abigail shot out. “Now, let’s go.” 

Raelle linked her hand with Scylla’s face brightening when Scylla gave a little squeeze.

“Goddess, this is going to be like Basic all over again, “ Abigail grumbled, “Tally is going to go nuts.”

Chapter Text

The leaves were turning.

It was a gorgeous sight. Reds and yellows and oranges blending together like splashes of mother nature’s palette across the rolling hills and smooth plains. A gentle breeze swirled the mixtures. The goddess dipping her paintbrush to dot the landscape with color as the sun dimmed and the air chilled. Sweaters and jackets appeared. Steaming mugs of cider and all sorts of pumpkin and apple pies filled bellies. Children ran through the peaceful streets, giggling and jumping into piles of freshly raked rainbows. Couples held hands as they strolled and groups of adults bickered over football teams and whose turn it was to mow the lawn one last time before winter hit. Gourds and dried branches that smelt of earth and hearth decorated porches and store fronts.

Very few paid any attention to the two young women slowly walking uptown in the small village. Life bustled around them, swooping and sweeping by but unable to penetrate the bubble of quiet enveloping them. A handful of store clerks and the old woman who sat in a rocking chair on her porch watched them, vaguely them, almost knew them.

The couple was quiet. Silent. They walked side by side, but didn’t touch. Their hands were close, so very close, but did not meet. Both were dressed simply. The blonde had an old weathered flannel haphazardly draped over her shoulders, grey cotton peeking out from the open half buttoned flaps. Her blue jeans had a hole in one knee and the frayed edges slumped over her battered sneakers. The brunette wasn’t as rumpled, faded jeans cuffed at the ankles and arms covered by thin long white sleeves.

The couple turned the corner, stepping into the park and veering out of sight.

Scylla sat on her bed, absently fiddling with the charm in her hands. The light rustle of people downstairs echoed up through the floorboards, a soundtrack she easily ignored. Lost in her thoughts, she bit her lip.

It had felt like a lifetime since she’d seen Raelle.

Since the younger witch had stormed into the Camarilla hideout with storm and fury. Since she rushed to Scylla’s side and healed her.

Since they kissed.

Scylla ran the tip of her finger along the length of the bird skull, tracing the runes line by line. Goddess, it had felt like finally coming home. To finally touch her. Be touched by her. Feel her hands and arms against her skin. Feel her lips, taste her mouth. Be able to hold her entire world in her palms once more.

Scylla heard the gossip. The whispers. 

How Bellweather Unit went damn near berserk the second they caught wind of what was happening. Heard that the mission was a bust. That witches were in danger. 

That Scylla was in danger.

They didn’t wait. Ignored orders to let a nearby tactical team form and determine logistics before staging an intervention.

No, they immediately ran into the fray. 

Soldiers and Spree alike spoke about how Raelle, a Fixer and youthful cadet still in classes, damn near took out an entire Camarilla cell by herself. How her scourge swung with such deadly force that not even hell itself could protect the devil from the blows. 

How the palpable rage disappeared the exact instant her eyes landed on Scylla. She lost all focus for anything but the necro as her unit took care of the rest of the attacked team. 

Scylla lightly touched her mouth. Phantom lips traced her own. Ghostly hands pressed into her chest.

They kissed.

They’d kissed, and Scylla felt everything she never knew could exist.

What she never thought she would feel again.

What she only ever felt with Raelle.

Love. Hope. Belief. 

She felt her past. Her present. Her future.

She felt the universe.

She felt life.

She felt the only thing that mattered anymore.

But, that had been then. 

And Raelle was gone as soon as Scylla was dropped off at the infirmary to rest.

Scylla returned to the house now used by soldiers and spree alike, and Raelle most likely went back to her life of war college classes and training.

Scylla couldn’t blame her. How could she? It was...heat of the moment. Nothing more. Raelle didn't forgive her. Would never forgive her. Would never forget or...or move past it. Raelle was loyal. So damn loyal. She didn’t understand betrayal. Not like that. She had a temper. Was reckless. Threw herself head first into things without thinking about the consequences.

But, she could never betray someone she loved.

Not like Scylla had.

A quick knock at the closed bedroom door drew Scylla out of her thoughts. Blinking away the sadness, she plastered a confident smirk on her face and stood up. Setting the charm down on the bed, she strode over to the door. 

It was probably Anacostia here to tell her about another mission.

Finally. The last one might have gone south, but Scylla was more than capable of getting back in the field.

She swung open the door, snarky greeting on the tip of her tongue.

Her mind went blank. 

Words left her.

Raelle stood on the other side.

Scylla’s hand shook on the door knob. Her eyes widened, and damn her but she couldn’t stop the glimmer of hope that always flickered to life whenever she stared into those hypnotizing blue eyes.

Raelle was slightly hunched, shoulders rolled and lips forming a thin line. She didn’t look at Scylla, head ducked slightly and gaze off to the side.

They stood there.

Neither moved.

Neither spoke.

Scylla held her breath.

Seconds ticked by.

Scylla drank in the sight of her. The sight of the woman she loved standing before her. She looked so good. Had she ever seen Raelle dressed in civilian clothes before? Scylla felt the urge to cuddle into her, let the warm looking flannel wrap around her. She wanted to kiss the scar prominent on the gaunt face. Had Raelle been eating? Taking care of herself? She wanted to run her hands through her half braided hair. Rub her thumbs across scrunched brows, smooth out the lines of stress and sadness.

She wanted to tell her everything inside of her heart.

She wanted to kiss her.

She wanted to know why Raelle left. Why she kissed her and held her and disappeared.

She wanted to pull her onto the bed and feel their bodies meet.

She wanted Raelle to push her against the wall and reach for her belt buckle.

She wanted to know if Raelle would ever be hers again.

Finally, Scylla found her voice, “Raelle?”

“Want to take a walk with me?” Raelle blurted out, words racing together.

Scylla frowned, “What?”

Raelle swallowed, clearing her throat. She inhaled deeply before finally...finally letting her eyes land on Scylla. She straightened her back, “Can we go for a walk?” 

Scylla stared at her for a moment. Took in the hesitant fear tinged hope underlying the fake confidence. “Yes.”

Unspoken relief flooded Raelle’s gaze, “Ok.”

“Ok.” 

They shared a tiny smile.

Scylla quickly turned around and grabbed the satchel hanging from the chair. As subtle as possible, she reached out and plucked up the charm, carefully shoving it in the bag before looping it over her shoulder. As she faced Raelle, the blonde was staring intently at the bag. “I'm ready.”

Raelle stepped back with a short nod, allowing Scylla to go by. The brunette’s shoulder brushed Raelle’s chest, and the air crackled between them. Closing her eyes and summoning strength, Scylla moved forward. She guided Raelle down the creaky stairs and past the handful of witches milling about in the kitchen and living area before stepping outside. 

They began to casually stride down the street. Side by side. 

Scylla breathed in the crisp autumn air and let the mid-afternoon sun warm her face. She tried not to think about the hand that was so close to her own. How she wanted to reach out, close the distance, feel Raelle’s fingers tangle with her own and give a gentle squeeze like they used to. Rest her chin on Scylla’s shoulder or place a light kiss on the back of her palm before playfully nibbling the tips of her fingers. 

Instead, she stretched out her fingers, willing the anxiety tingling in them to disappear as she gave them a gentle shake.

They walked quietly. Silently. They meandered by the houses, through the quaint town, and into the park.

Scylla wanted to say something. Break the tension that lingered between them. Something funny. Something witty. Get Raelle to laugh or smile or just look at her. Raelle could be quiet. Late at night when they would hold each other and sleep was luring them into its depths. When Scylla was studying for class and Raelle cleaned and cared for her scourge, each in their own little world but still linked. 

But this...this was different. 

And it scared Scylla because Raelle was fury. She was the sun. She burned bright and hot. It was something Scylla hated and loved about her. Hated that Raelle would let her emotions put her in danger. Get her hurt. Cause Raelle to do and say things she shouldn’t, wouldn’t, if she took a breath and calmed down. 

But, it also was what made Raelle so magnetic. The electric want in her torch when she took control and brought Scylla to the stars with a swipe of her tongue. The pure joy that radiated when she swung Scylla around the dance floor. The undeniable love when she proclaimed her feelings for Scylla, everything else be damned. She was sexy as hell when she whipped her scourge and the muscles in her arms flexed with the effort. 

She was loud and brash and brave. Bold. An enticing mix of a lover and a fighter that drew Scylla in like a moth to a flame.

Raelle was rarely quiet. And she never refused to look at her.

Raelle being quiet, right now, was scarier than anything the Camarilla could do to Scylla.

The last time she was this quiet, Scylla was chained to a chair. The last time she was this quiet, she turned her back to Scylla and walked away. 

She’d rather Raelle yelled at her. Screamed. Raged. Fought with her. Gave her a chance to respond to whatever was haunting her. 

In the eye of a hurricane, there is quiet.

As the grass crunched beneath her boots, Scylla heard a soft confession, “I miss you.”

Scylla’s heart stuttered. She unconsciously ran her hand over her bag, imagining the charm inside. 

Raelle sniffed, swiping the pad of her thumb across her nose and fidgeting, “I…” a self-deprecating shrug, “I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve never been able to stop thinking about you.”

Scylla gulped, “Raelle.”

Raelle turned her head away from Scylla, “I fell in love with you. I would have done anything for you. I wanted to do everything because of you.”

Scylla’s mouth trembled, “I still want to do everything with you. Raelle, I fell in love with you, too. I’ve always been in love with you.”

“You lied to me. About everything.”

“Not about that.” Scylla firmly spoke. “Never about how I feel about you. You have to know that. You do know that.”

“Do I?”

“ Yes. ”

Raelle let her head drop.

Scylla curled her hands into fists, “What do you want, Raelle?”

Raelle raised her head, “I want to stop feeling this way. I want...I want to believe that the woman I love is someone I can trust. I want to not feel like I can’t breathe because you’re not here.” A bitter chuckle, “Getting stabbed in the heart never hurt as much as seeing you and not being able to kiss you. To not know who I fell in love with.”

“You know me.” Scylla replied, putting every bit of honesty and truth inside of her in the words, “You do. And...and whatever you don’t know, ask me. I’ll tell you. I will tell you anything, Raelle.”

Raelle shakes her head.

Scylla searched her face. Desperate for...something. Dread and a terrible sort of acceptance began to seep in, “You’re never going to forgive me.” A tear threatened to fall, “I’ve never stood a chance, have I?”

Silence.

Scylla looked away, unable to look at heartbreak any longer.

Not even death could feel this painful.

Life is death is life again.

She never admitted to still harboring a thread of hope. Hope that Raelle would be hers again. That the future she saw in her eyes could be theirs once again. 

She couldn’t breathe.

Raelle was leaving her again.

I’m sorry we ever met, Scyl.

A voice inside her told her to fight. To not give in. Prove something...anything. Not lose that last real thing in her life.

I’m sorry we ever met, Scyl.

Calloused fingertips brushed over the back of her hand.

Scylla silently gasped.

Raelle slowly took her hand. Curved her fingers between Scylla’s. Gave a gentle squeeze.

“I forgave you five seconds after you told me the truth. And, it scares me because I’d forgive you for anything, Scyl.” Raelle confessed in a tearful whisper. “I’d believe anything you told me, even if it was a lie. You’re the only one who can break me and make me feel whole. And it’s stupid. I’m so stupid. So damn stupid. I should hate you but I don’t. I can’t. I’ve never hated you. I’m so stupid and weak and... ”

Scylla spun and tugged Raelle into her arms. She captured her lips, swallowing Raelle’s doubt and self-loathing. Raelle kissed her back, just like she always did. Like she always would.

Their tears mixed together, mouths meeting sloppily. It was too slow. Too fast. Too hard. Too soft. The angle was wrong. Teeth clashed. 

It was perfect.

They broke apart slowly. Their breaths mingled as Scylla spoke tenderly, “I am in this with you. We’re going to figure it out together, ok? Whoever you are. Whoever you were. No matter what happens. No matter what anyone else thinks. I’m with you.”

Raelle’s grip on her hand tightened.

“No matter what happens. No matter where we are,” Scylla continued, “I am in love with you. I am the woman who takes walks in the park with you. I’m the woman who holds your hand, even when it’s sweaty and dirty. I’m the woman who will take care of you when you have a hard day and makes sure you don’t get yourself killed. I’m the woman who dreams of a future with you.” She held her close, “I’m not afraid. I know who I want. What I want. I know who I am with you.” She brought their joined hands to her lips, “I am so so sorry I hurt you. I never want to hurt you. I just want you. We can figure everything else out. Together.” She dropped their hands to her chest, holding it there between them. “I just want to be by your side.”

Raelle cupped her cheek, “You go where I go.”

Scylla’s knees buckled slightly as her body was overcome by the emotional toll of the moment. She leaned into Raelle, who easily accepted the added weight, easily welcomed it. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Raelle’s voice floated on the breeze, “I need you with me, Scyl. I can’t do this by myself anymore. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you,” Scylla kissed her, “I love you. Always. I will always love you.”

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t…”

“Shh.” Scylla soothed. She pressed tiny kisses to the corner of her mouth, along the faint white line of her scar, “We’ll figure it out. You’re so strong, Raelle. You’re strong and you’re brave, and you have so many people who care about you. Love you. You’re not stupid, baby.” 

"There's just so much..."

"I know." Scylla caressed the curve of her throat, smoothed the neckline of her shirt, "I love you. Ok? Let me be the strong one." She brushed her smile against Raelle's forehead, "If you can pretend to be a blaster, I can be a fixer."

Raelle huffed.

“I love you.” Scylla vowed. "Believe me one more time. All I need is one more time."

“Ok.” Raelle burrowed into the crook of her neck, "I believe you." 

As people filtered into the park, enjoying the afternoon outside, a few people noticed the couple curled together near a giant maple tree, so entwined it was nearly impossible to figure out where one ended and the other began. 

Chapter Text

Another day.

Another battle.

Raelle stood at attention, or as near to attention as her faltering body could handle. Her hands were chipped and cracked, blisters forming from where she’d worked so hard, so damn hard, to heal the lieutenant they cut down from the pyre. She could still feel the heat of the embers and errant flames licking her wrists and biting her arms. The smell of smoke clung to her hair and skin like a never-ending nightmare. Her uniform was dirty, ash smudged across her cheek and a tiny clump nestled in the corner of her eye, irritating the already reddened skin. 

They’d deployed to the forests around the edge of Norway. Deep dark woods that didn’t let in a strand of light until they burst upon a clearing filled with blazing stakes and screaming witches.

The screams echoed in her head.

They didn’t stop.

“Raelle.”

Raelle shifted her gaze to the woman standing in front of her.

Her mother.

The woman who gave birth to her. 

The woman who kissed her cuts and bruises before healing them.

The woman who slowly danced with her dad beneath the stars when they thought no one was watching. 

The woman who lied to her. Left her. Left their family in shambles and heartache.

The woman who was only back in her life because of a tenuous alliance between the Spree and the military.

This woman before her who gazed upon her with worried yet determined eyes and hair that young Raelle used to practice braiding was not someone she knew.

Her mother was gone.

Nothing left but a medal, some letters, and an old bird’s foot.

“Raelle,” Willa’s voice softened a fraction more, her commanding visage flickering, “go. Shower. Clean up and rest.”

Raelle inhaled all the emotions brewing inside. Choked back the anger and pain and utter saddened rage that burned the back of her throat like the fires dancing in her memory, “I should return to my Unit. There are still soldiers in need of medical attention.”

“Raelle,” Willa sighed. She lifted a hand, motioning as if to touch her.

Raelle straightened her spine into the perfect stance Anacostia taught her the first day of basic, “Request permission to be dismissed, ma’am.”

“Raelle.”

“Permission to be dismissed.”

“I’m not your commanding officer.”

Raelle stared straight ahead, 

Willa’s hand fell, “Permission granted.”

Raelle gave a quick nod and did a sharp about face. 

Anacostia would be so damn proud.

Her feet marched away, her face holding strong as she heard the shaky breath behind her. Unwilling to show what was inside, unwilling to acknowledge that she wasn’t fine, that she brimmed with a temper that others accused her of being unable to control, Raelle made her way down the hallway of the small makeshift outpost. Her lips pursed as her hands shook at her sides, but she kept her gaze forward. 

She was fine.

She just needed to get to where she was needed. Where she could help. Do something. Where women lay hurt, and she could take it away from them. Take it from them.

Because, she could handle it.

She was fine.

Absolutely fine.

She nearly stormed into Abigail as she turned a corner.

“Shit,” Abigail yelped, their shoulders clipping.

“Sorry.” Raelle muttered, righting herself.

“Raelle,” Abigail’s brows furrowed as she looked her up and down. Specks of dirt still clung to the edges of her fingernails, but water droplets dotted her face and the fresh scent of soap drifted around her, “you look like shit, Shitbird.”

“Thanks.” Raelle needed to find the infirmary. She knew it was a quickly constructed tent around back, filled with fixers and the injured.

“You need to shower.” 

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“No, you’re not.” Abigail blocked her from leaving, “You smell terrible. Wash up. Tally went to find us some food.”

“Abigail,”

“I will pull rank.”

Raelle glared at her, “You’re one rank ahead of me, and we both know it’s bullshit.”

“Shower, Collar. Now.” Abigail pointed toward the bathroom, “I’ll report you to Anacostia, and you do not want to deal with her right now.”

Anacostia, who always seemed to find Raelle when she needed a slap upside the head and was not afraid to give it.

Raelle’s hands fisted as she stood her ground.

Abigail didn’t blink.

“Damn it.” 

“Go.” Abigail half smirked. “I’ll grab a clean uniform for you."

Raelle frowned and stomped over to the empty bathroom. She harshly tugged the door open, slamming it shut behind her. The bathroom was small, barely big enough for the shower, toilet, and sink. The light ticked on, the bright bulb bathing the white tiles in a sickly yellowish burst of fake sun.

The blonde roughly went to the shower and shoved her hand past the curtain to twist the knobs.

Water came streaming out of the showerhead, providing a soothing cadence.

Pulling her hand back, Raelle made the mistake of letting her eyes drift down.

She froze at the raw flesh.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

She hurt so much.

Closing her eyes, she forced away the images threatening her mind.

The fires reached up to the heavens. Flames sucked at the lifeforce of the witch tied to the wooden pole. Her screaming had stopped. She was slumped over. Lifeless. Like a ragdoll. Raelle still jumped to her. Leapt at the burning ropes as Abigail worked to extinguish the fire beside her, drawing rain clouds high overhead. She dug at the thick binders, blunt nails and the knife taking too long to cut through. The moment she finally released the witch, the body dropped into her arms. 

Viciously she grabbed at her clothes. She fumbled with the buckle of her belt, cursing as the metal nipped at her battered hands. She tore at the shirt, scrambling to pull it off. Her entire being vibrated.

“When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned.” Raelle recited, hands pressed to the moaning soldier splayed out on the ground. Blackened skin painted her palms, breaking away as she focused on the soul needing to be saved.

The tips of her fingers bumped over something hard. Something small and true. 

Her combat charm.

The damn bird’s foot.

Pinned to her chest like a beacon of protection.

This was your Mama’s. And her mama’s before that.

Raelle gasped, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she held onto the last vestiges of composure.

Raelle felt the world drop away as the woman stepped into sight.

Her Mama.

She was alive.

“Damn it!” Raelle grabbed the charm and ripped it away with all the strength she had left. The clip gave easily, the tiny foot nestling in her curled palm. Blue sparkled in the light, and the familiar weight fit comfortably, as it always had.

The little boy was terrified, desperately fighting to go someplace familiar. Someplace safe. Raelle held him tight, recognizing the panic. The fear. 

“I know what you need.” and she did. She did because she saw herself in this kid. In this little boy who had taken her hand and giggled as she told him funny stories during the march back to the helicopters. She saw in him the scared child who would wake up from a nightmare and have her Pop soothe her as he read her Mama’s letters to her. Have her Mama chase away the darkness when she hugged her and let her play with the charm she wore when she left home. “See this? See this?” She unhooked the pin, “This will keep you safe.” The kid was going to be ok. She was going to take care of him. 

She wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

She couldn’t breathe.

The blade slid so easily through her heart, at first she didn’t even know it happened. Didn’t feel pain.

Didn’t know how tired she was until her body hit the ground.

Didn't know what peace was like except for a few fleeting moments when she watched her Unit and that little boy wearing her charm at the helicopter and felt like she could go to sleep.

Didn’t know true pain until Abigail refused to let go. When Raelle knew she didn’t have a future and couldn’t stop Abigail from foregoing her own. 

With a silent sob, Raelle’s legs gave out. She plummeted to the floor, knees instantly pulling to her chest. She tumbled against the wall, back bumping against the unforgiving plaster with a pained punch. Tears streamed down her face, tiny rivers forging paths through the grime and agony.

There was so much.

Too much.

Why did this happen?

Why did her Mama lie?

Why couldn’t she save those witches?

Why couldn’t she save her family?

Why wasn’t she enough? Why was she never enough? Not powerful enough. Not strong enough. Not enough. Not enough. Not powerful. Not strong. Not worth it. 

I left my charm with Dad. Soon you will need it more than me. May it keep you safe and sound. I love you, more than the sky above.

Her mama was alive and Spree. She left their family to join a group that killed people. Killed people like her Pop. And she didn’t care. She didn’t…

How could she?

Anger flashed like lightning.

How could she stand there and act like she hadn’t betrayed their family? Hadn’t broken her Pop’s heart. Hadn’t lied and lied and...people were dying! People died. They died in Raelle’s arms as she tried so hard to keep them. To save them. Take their pain away.

She tried.

The charm cut into her palm as she squeezed.

Why wouldn’t it stop?

She just wanted it to stop.

The tiny squeak of the door opening didn’t break through the haze of guilt and turmoil enveloping Raelle. 

She was so stupid. She’s always so stupid. She knows not to believe people. Knows there's no way out. Was stupid to even think there was. And now Tally and Abigail were fighting every day for their lives and Raelle couldn’t keep them safe either. No where was safe. She couldn't keep anyone safe.

Scylla was on the floor, blood all around her. A man, the Camarilla, stood over her, knife drawn back.

The entire building shook as Raelle whipped out her scourge with a snarl.

A cool hand, a balm to the inferno scorching her skin, lightly cupped her cheek. Fingers tenderly touched her leg, her knee, the hand curled so tight it ached.

“I...I…” Raelle murmured, unable to speak, to think, to feel anything other than the storm inside. It was so much. Too much. It wouldn’t stop.

“Rae...Raelle.” A calm gentle tone washed over her. 

She let her face lean into the hand, lips trembling as a delicate thumb traced her scar. 

“Raelle,” a body was crouched in front of her.

“It hurts.” Raelle finally choked out. Finally admitted.

“I know.” the tone grew even more caring, “I know. You’re ok. It’s ok.”

“No,” Raelle cried.

“Shhh.” the thumb wiped away her tears as the fingers on her hand tapped carefully. A little rhythm that drew her attention. “Breathe, baby. Count with me.” The fingers kept tapping. “One...two...three. Come on, one...two...three...four...five.” 

Raelle couldn’t. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move.

“Come on, Collar. I know you cessions can count. One...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight...nine...ten. Come on, Champ. One...two...three.”

“One.” Raelle got out, “Two. Three.”

“Good. Good. You're doing so good.” 

They kept counting.

“Can you take a deep breath for me? Breathe with me, ok?” 

Raelle nodded, her head swimming.

The hand on her face drew away. It slid down to her own free one. She shivered as the hand lifted and pressed her palm to a chest. The rise and fall of her savior’s lungs and the faint beat of her heart bled into Raelle’s consciousness.

They breathed together.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The world slowly came into focus.

The sound of the still running shower.

The faint buzz of the electric lightbulb.

The haphazard pile of clothes hastily dropped on the floor.

Concerned loving blue eyes.

Licking her lips, Raelle dipped her fingers into the crinkles of the shirt under her touch. She soaked in the vision huddled near her. A siren anchoring her in the middle of a hurricane.

“Hi,” Scylla whispered.

Raelle swallowed thickly, “Hi.”

Scylla caressed the hand against her chest, “Can I hug you?”

Raelle felt her broken heart shatter even more. She nodded.

“Ok,” Scylla carefully, so carefully, wrapped her arms around Raelle.

It felt safe.

“I got you, Rae.” Scylla whispered. 

Raelle gave in. 

Her body collapsed into the embrace.

Scylla kissed the top of her head and held her tightly, “You’re ok. You’re safe. Everyone is ok. I love you.”

Raelle wanted to hit something. She wanted to yell. Scream. She wanted to run and run until she reached the end of the world. 

She wanted to cry. To sob. To never get up.

She wanted peace. Quiet. She wanted the terror inside gone. 

She wanted to be at the beach. 

She wanted to be home in the Cession.

She wanted to be in the ground.

“Scyl,” she croaked.

Scylla cradled her in her arms, “I love you. I love you. You’re safe.”

We’re witches, Scylla. Where’s safe?

As Raelle clung to the one hint of hope still in her life, the one bit of faith in a future beyond death and destruction and pain, to the source of her true belief, the arms around her shifted.

With hidden strength, Scylla scooped Raelle into her arms and stood up.

Raelle nuzzled into her shoulder, body turning inward to the source of love and home.

“I love you, and I’ll take you somewhere safe. Soon. I know a place.” Scylla promised as she began to carry her out of the bathroom and down the hall toward the sleeping quarters, “Rest, Rae. Rest.”

Chapter Text

Her entire body ached.

It felt like every single molecule inside of her was being ripped apart only to be hastily and sloppily stitched back together by unsteady gritty hands. Her own hands felt like they’d been dipped in hot oil and lit aflame. They trembled as her parched throat croaked out the words. A sledge hammer pounded against the back of her eyes, blinding pain that stabbed...stabbed...stabbed.

She ignored it, shoved every single thought in her mind as far away as possible except for the words. Except for the power coursing through her and inhaling the agony filtering through the body at her fingertips. 

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.”

The Spree agent...the witch before her coughed, groaning as her arms spasmed. Blood trickled from her lips and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

Raelle shook with the effort to keep steady. She was tired. So damn tired. The team had been brought in, a battle breaking out between the Camarilla and the magic wielders in the middle of Salem proper. The injured were rushed to Fort Salem, and any fixer in the vicinity was called to the infirmary. Even a few non medical personnel were close at hand to offer support and a hand. 

There were so many. 

Witches.

Even civilians.

Everyone got caught in the crossfire. 

“When you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep you.”

Raelle, half asleep from boredom and late nights trying to adjust to the time change from Norway and Spain, not to mention the nightmares that sometimes plagued her sleep, especially when she slept alone, had dropped the textbook her class on advanced defensive seeds was meant to be reviewing when the trucks rolled in and a drill sergeant swept through the hall ordering all fixers to report to the medical buildings. She was out of her chair and sprinting after the officer before the rest of her class even realized something was wrong. 

She’d caught up with the officer, only to be told if she was a fixer to get her ass over to medical, no questions asked. 

She caught a glimpse of Sergeant Izadora as she arrived at the unimposing building. She gave the young soldier a brief glance and serious nod as the caravan pulled up.

Raelle barely registered that she was moving before she found herself jogging alongside a stretcher, reaching for a bloody hand and hearing tearful pleas for help.

That had been hours ago.

“When you walk through the fire,” her breath hitched. Images of burning stakes and howling women slammed into her mind, playing horrifically like a sick movie. 

The fires reached up to the heavens. Flames sucked at the lifeforce of the witch tied to the wooden pole. Her screaming had stopped. She was slumped over. Lifeless. Like a ragdoll. Raelle still jumped to her. Leapt at the burning ropes as Abigail worked to extinguish the fire beside her, drawing rain clouds high overhead. She dug at the thick binders, blunt nails and the knife taking too long to cut through. The moment she finally released the witch, the body dropped into her arms. 

Gritting her teeth, she forced the memory away.

“You will not be burned.”

Her head felt heavy. Her arms were made of lead. Boulders pressed down on her chest and shoulders. 

Her eyelids flickered. 

Suddenly, another body slipped into place across from her on the other side of the bed. Raelle didn’t look up at the newcomer, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the broken body. 

She was going to help her.

She could do this.

She had to do this.

No one else was going to die that day.

Others had walked away from this girl. This Spree agent who was too injured to be moved without significant risk. Who was spilling blood from her mouth and had lacerations so deep it was a wonder she had any more blood left to spill.

Raelle wasn’t giving up on her.

She wasn’t walking away.

They could save her.

She could save her.

Firm strong hands landed on top of her own. They stilled the quivering fingers, and warmth infused Raelle’s hold, slowly working its way up past her wrists and along her arms. It was like a comfy blanket on a cold winter’s night. A burst of sunlight on a rainy day. A small sugar rush from a box of candy. A mother's hug after a nightmare.

A low voice began to chant with her.

“The flames will not set you ablaze.”

They stood there, hovering over the whimpering youth. Chanting. Healing. The cuts began to disappear. Flesh reunited with flesh. Blood stopped staining the bedsheets and tattered clothes.

“Fear not for I am with you.” their voices echoed together in perfect harmony.

The final cut closed, the body healed.

Raelle blinked, staring through a fog at the hands resting on her own. As if moving through mud, she lifted her head.

Willa Collar looked back at her, face unreadable. 

Raelle swallowed thickly, throat as dry as the desert. She pulled her hands away, stumbling back a step. The world spun as she righted herself, the boulders on her chest and shoulders still there. What little energy boost she’d had was gone.

The pain was still there.

It never went away.

It only got worse.

“Raelle,” her mother spoke softly.

Raelle straightened her spine and locked her jaw. She gave a quick nod and turned to walk away.

To find someone else in need.

“Raelle,” her mother called louder. Firmer. 

Raelle jerkily stepped around the bed, “I need to go.”

“Stop.”

Raelle didn’t. She took a few measured steps, but her legs nearly snapped at the weight of her exhaustion. An arm flared out to balance herself. 

Willa immediately caught it, swiftly moving to her daughter’s side, “You should take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“Honey, you need to take a break. That took a lot even from me.”

Raelle bristled, “Don’t.” Don’t call her that. Don’t talk to her. Don’t act like she cared, “Don’t tell me what to do.” She tugged her arm free from the steadying hold. “You’re not my CO, remember?”

Willa sighed. “Stubborn child.” she muttered under her breath. “Raelle, you’re no good right now. Not like this.”

“ I’m fine. ” Raelle growled. 

“What have I always told you?”

“You told me a lot of things.” Raelle sniped.

“Be stubborn where it helps. Where it matters.” 

“I’m helping.”

“You’re not.” Willa held up a hand as Raelle opened her mouth to retort, “If I hadn’t come over here, you would already be in one of those beds right now, needing your owner fixer. Do you want to take someone away from helping because you’re too stubborn to stop?”

Raelle glared at her.

“If you don’t take a break, I will have you admitted here. Don’t test me, girl. I’m not your commanding officer, but I am a leader here. I will get your commanding officer to order you to rest.”

Raelle clenched her fists. Anacostia would do it. So would Abigail.

Her mother tilted her head, “Take care of yourself, Raelle. What would your Unit think if you had to be admitted for exhaustion? That you couldn’t join them? They’d be down a member.” Her gaze bore into her, “What would your girlfriend think knowing you worked yourself into needing medical attention?”

Unadulterated anger flared up, sizzled like hot oil in a burning frying pan, “Don’t you ever talk about my Unit or my girlfriend.” She got in her mother’s face, words spit out with searing vitriol, “Don’t go anywhere near them.”

Her mother’s face flickered, but she held strong, “I’ll go find Sergeant Izadora right now.”

The stand off didn’t flinch.

After a minute, Raelle exhaled loudly and stepped back, “Fine.”

“Good.” Willa nodded. She waved a hand, “Let’s go to my office. I have some food and water there.”

Raelle clenched her jaw but spun on her heel. She limped toward the door, clumsily darting around different nurses and cadets as she went. Willa hovered a half step behind her. Raelle didn’t see the hands that hung in midair, ready to catch her if she fell. 

The office was small, nearly the size of a closet. It probably had been one before Alder allowed the Spree to have space inside the Fort.  The uneasy alliance required communication, and that required certain leaders to be near each other.

As the door closed, Raelle leaned against the wall, eyes closing at the effort it took to make it there. Her chest heaved and she nearly fell asleep right there.

“Sit down, Raelle.”

“I’m good.” She refused the offer. 

“Raelle,”

“I’m not sitting down.” Raelle cut in, “This isn’t some friendly chat. We aren’t meeting for tea.”

“You always hated tea.”

“You always made it too sweet.”

“It was your grandma’s recipe. Your dad loved it.”

It felt like the knife, invisible this time but even more jagged, was jabbing through her heart. Again. “Don’t talk about Pop.”

Another sigh, “Rae,”

“Don’t.” Raelle sniffed. She rubbed the back of her sleeve across her nose, “Don’t talk about him like you care.”

“I do care, Raelle.”

Raelle scoffed, “Right. That’s why you left. Because you care so much.”

Willa frowned.

“Never mind.” Raelle shook her head, “I don’t care. Don’t...don’t say anything. Forget it.”

“We should talk.”

“No, we shouldn’t.”

“We can’t keep going on like this.”

“Like what? Like a soldier and a Spree leader who have to fight against witch hunters? Sounds about right to me.”

Willa rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead, frustration leaking into her stance, “Stubborn like your father.”

Raelle vibrated with anger. She bit her tongue so hard she tasted copper, “Great talk. I’ve had enough of a break.”

“Sit down.” the order was not to be trifled with. It was the order a mother gave her petulant child.

Raelle breathed heavily. She didn’t sit. But, she didn’t leave.

Willa’s shoulders slumped. She slid around her desk, pulling open a drawer and rummaging inside, “You’re very impressive. Your work. Everyone thinks so. One of the best healers here, and you’re still so young.”

“Guess War College taught me a lot.”

“It isn’t War College,” Will plucked out a few energy bars. “You’re naturally gifted, girl. Ever since you were small you’d fix things. Mr. Cooper’s dog from down the street. That little boy’s arm when he fell out of that tree. You always have helped people, healed people, Rae. It’s why I started teaching you when you were barely up to your dad’s knee. You wanted to learn so badly. You saw a girl crying one day because she cut her finger, and it tore you up inside that you couldn’t heal her.” She flashed a small smile, “You couldn’t say no to a cute girl even back then.” Her smile grew proud, “I’ve always been proud of you. Knew you would do amazing special things. What you can do, that’s not taught in a classroom or in the training rooms here. It’s you. It’s natural. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

It was too much.

The smile, honest and real.

The memories, spoken so casually.

The words, full of pride.

It was too much.

Raelle exploded from the wall, hands waving and eyes wild, “Shut up! Shut up!”

Willa took a step back at the palpable anger.

She saw red. Unbridled rage and pain and despair spread through her like a wildfire. All she could feel was the hurt. All she could see was the face of the woman who brought so many tears to her pop’s eyes. Who manipulated and lied and nearly drove her family into the ground.

“Don’t talk like you know us. Like you care. Like you give a damn about me or Pop or anyone else besides yourself. You don’t care. You never cared. Proud of me? Proud of the daughter you left? The kid you made think was alone? I lost you. You left me, and you didn’t even look back. Just walked away like you were going for a fucking stroll to the store. Pop cried! He cried and we had nothing left of you but your damn medal and those letters you wrote saying you loved me. Loved me! You didn’t love me. You don’t love me. You don’t love Pop. You’re so fucking selfish.”

“I did it to protect you!” Willa shouted over her. She took a deep breath, “Everything I have ever done has been to protect you and your dad. If you would just listen to me…”

“No, no.” Raelle shook her head. She held up her hands, “I’m not listening to your lies. Not anymore.”

“Raelle,”

“What? You’re going to tell me you left us because...what? You wanted to protect us? You made us think you were dead, made us grieve for you, so you could run off and join a group that kills civilians. Kills people like Dad. People like me.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Stop, just stop. This...this isn’t love. What you did, is not love.”

Willa snapped, “And getting yourself killed because you’re too stubborn to admit when you’ve had enough, when you need help, is love? Forcing the people who care about you to watch as you fade away because you’ll save everyone but yourself is love? You are ignoring your own pain, your own hurts, and you are making everyone else watch. You are making us see you slowly die.” She planted her hands on the desk, “That isn’t how you treat your loved ones, either.”

“Guess I learned a hell of a lot more from you than I thought I did.”

“You could learn a bit more.”

“Like how to fake my own death? No thanks,” Raelle lunged closer, “I’m not hurting anyone. I’m not like you.”

“What happened in Norway?” Willa shot back. “How are you sleeping at night? What dreams do you have? How many cuts and bruises cover your body right now?” A slight tremble at the corner of her mouth and twitch of her eye gave away the anguish inside, “I know what’s happening, honey. Sweetheart, I understand. I gave so much to the army. I gave and I gave until there was nothing left to give.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“You are so driven to help people, and it’s...you’re so brave, Raelle. You have goodness inside of you. Power. You can do so many great things. You will. Such powerful needed work. But, you’re tired. You’re in pain. Honey, it won’t go away if you don’t let it. It will consume you until you can’t take it anymore. You’re helping so many people that you’ll lose yourself in the process.” She reached out a hand.

Raelle jerked back, “Don’t touch me.”

“Raelle,” she exhaled, “I never wanted this for you. Any of this. The pain. The fighting. The fear. I wanted you to be happy.”

“So you faked your death and joined a terrorist organization. Well done. Great job.” she sarcastically nodded.

“I gave up my own happiness to fight for yours, to join a group fighting so you don’t have to.” Willa replied, “I miss you. I miss your father. I miss my family and our life together. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t wanted to hold you in my arms. Hear about your day. Watch you play around with that lacrosse stick you like so much.” She licked her lips, “Watch you fall in love with someone. Watch them fall in love with you.”

Raelle’s back stiffened hard enough to crack. Her voice dropped to a dark snarl, “Don’t even think of saying her name.”

“Scylla,”

“Scylla was used by you!” Raelle roared, “You used her, and you used me. You didn’t give a damn about her. She loved me, and you tried to ruin her. You hurt her. You sent her to manipulate and lie to me, and when she didn’t, you attacked.” Raelle knew about the witch who choked her girlfriend after pretending to be her. Had seen the flashes of memory as she healed the older woman after a nasty scrape. It had taken both Tally and Abigail to drag Raelle away from the stunned woman, Raelle’s fists still swinging. 

“I have never wanted anyone to be hurt.” Willa tried to calm her down, “I passed down orders for her to bring you to me. I never told anyone to harm her.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You are my only child, Raelle. I love you more than anything. I want you to be happy. Protected. I wanted you with me. And Scylla...you care about her. I couldn’t hurt someone you love. Not like that.”   

“Sure.”

“I swear. All I wanted was for you to be safe. To never know the horrors of war. To never experience one day of fear. You already went through so much with your dad and I being who we are and being married. Being your parents. I didn’t want you to go through taking the oath, too.”

“Well, you did a swell job there, Mama. Well done. A+. Bang up job.”

“I know I wasn’t perfect. I didn’t get everything right. But, I tried. I’m still trying.”

“Trying to manipulate me. Manipulate the people I care about. The woman I love. Use us until you get whatever the hell it is you really want. Then, you can disappear again. I mean, why are you even here? Because of some agreement with Alder? You could have found me any time. You knew where I was. You wanted to see me? Have me with you? I never saw you step foot near the Cession. Never saw you when I took the oath. Never saw you when the bus dropped me off for Basic. I never saw you.”

“Honey,”

“Stop.” Raelle backed up, “We’re done here. I’m...I’m done. Don't come near me. Do not go near Scylla. Leave us alone. My mama died. She died on a beach in Liberia. We buried her. An empty casket near her sister. Pop laid flowers there. Lays them every week. Daffodils. Her favorites. I miss her every day. She was my hero.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, “I don’t know who you are, but you’re not my mama. You...you’re just someone I serve with until this war is over.”

Wiping harshly at her eyes and cheeks, Raelle turned her back to the older woman and walked away. She tore through the door, biting her lip to hold in the sobs. She didn’t watch where she was going, couldn’t even if she wanted to through the tears. 

“Whoa, hey...Raelle?” Tally twirled out of the way of the hurricane, the short blonde crashing between her and Abigail.

“What’s going on?” Abigail asked.

“Are you ok?” Tally added.

Raelle just kept walking.

The pair shared a look before peering the way Raelle came from.

Willa stood in the doorway, her own cheeks wet as she watched her daughter leave.

“Oh shit.” Abigail breathed out, Tally’s eyes wide.

Chapter Text

People bustled back and forth through the narrow hallway. The sounds of the television and laughter echoed from the common room, and the clatter of boots, clink of silverware, and slamming doors ricocheted from the dining area. A pair of second year cadets gossiped about the boys arriving for Beltane later that day while a gaggle of blasters exchanged tips on forming the perfect blizzard and jockeying over who could produce the cleanest tornado.

Raelle hunched in the tiny alcove off to the side, ignoring the soldiers milling around her. She held the phone to her ear. It smelt of stale sweat and bleach, and she wrinkled her nose as the stench wafted over her. 

Goddess, Fort Salem was old.

The first year privates needed to do a better job cleaning. Or actually clean and not just douse it with a bottle of cleaner.

Anacostia would have murdered her if she hadn't polished the phone to gleaming perfection during Basic. Straight up made her run ten miles before hand to hand combat training.

Which she knew because it'd happened. More than once that first week or two.

Her foot began to tap anxiously as she felt bodies sweep by her.

She smelled smoke.

Her foot tapped faster.

The air grew thick with dust. Hazy. A strange unnatural orangish glow. 

She shuffled her feet.

“I did it to protect you!” Willa shouted over her. She took a deep breath, “Everything I have ever done has been to protect you and your dad. If you would just listen to me…”

Breathing in and out slowly, she concentrated on the air filling her lungs holding it and carefully letting it slip out in a steady stream. 

In.

Hold.

Out.

Anacostia’s voice tickled the back of her mind.

It helps, Collar. You need to focus on your breath. Your movements. Nothing else. Not the memories. Not your thoughts. Breathe it out. Count it out. One, two, three, four, five. That’s it. That’s all you gotta do.

Closing her eyes, she counted the beats each ring took. 

One. Two.Three. 

One. Two. Three.

One. Two. Three.

Her fingers tapped out the count, pointer finger touching the pad of her thumb, then her middle finger taking its place, ring finger the last in line.

In.

Hold.

Out.

“Hello?”

“Pop,” her voice shook imperceptibly at the familiar deep voice. She turned further into the small phone stall, her back to the rest of the world and body forming a miniature cocoon against the wall, “Hey.”

“Raelle? Hi, kiddo.” she could hear his smile. “How’s it going up there?”

She pursed her lips, a sudden wave of emotions threatening to spill out and overtake everything. Pour out like the waves crashing onto a distant shore, unrelenting and overwhelming. Her grip tightened on the phone, the plastic creaking at the rough hold, “Fine. It’s fine.” She unconsciously fisted her shirt in her other hand, fingers clinging to the cotton. “How’s it back home?”

“Eh, you know how it is around here.” he chuckled, “Bobby done broke his front axle again. Boy don’t know how to drive anything bigger than a tricycle. Mary Ann brought over some pie yesterday. Peach.”

“You hate peach.” Raelle bit her lip. “And she can’t bake.”

“Tasted like ash.”

Ash.

Ash filled the air, choking her lungs and making it nearly impossible to breathe. She squinted through the haze, feeling the heat of flames around her as she knelt over the half dead soldier.

“Please...please...I don’t want to die.”

“I got you.” Raelle promised. “Look at me.”

The young woman, no older than Raelle, turned terrified brown eyes on her. Ash covered her, the brown orbs the only thing visible through the white mask of dirt and burnt embers.

“I got you.”

“Kid?”

“Yeah,” Raelle sniffed. She blinked away the memories. “I’m here.”

In.

Out

In. 

Out.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

A slight pause, “How are your classes? You actually payin’ attention now that you’re in College?”

“I paid attention in school.”

“You’re like me, Rae. We don’t even read the directions on the back of a pancake box.”

“Must be why your pancakes are terrible.”

A laugh, “Ouch, kid. You weren’t complaining back in the day.”

“I had to eat back in the day.” Raelle shot back, “I fed half it to gitli anyway.”

“That damn dog.” he huffed.

The conversation lulled.

Raelle licked her lips, “I miss you.”

“Miss you too, Rae.” his voice softened. “I’m really proud of you.”

She rocked closer to the wall, releasing her shirt and pressing her palm flat against the plaster. The words were on the tip of her tongue. She could taste them. The pain. The agony. 

How they kept getting deployed even though Alder let them in War College because they were good at what they did and their numbers were depleting.

How she burned all over and smelt the stench of smoke everywhere. 

How she was so tired. 

How she kept having to fight. 

How she was worried about Tally and Abigail. Worried they’d be hurt. That she wouldn’t be there to fix them. Wouldn’t be good enough, strong enough, fast enough, smart enough to stop their pain. Save their lives. 

How Abigail frowned more now. Tally wasn’t as cheerful. 

How she felt a phantom knife slide through her heart when she slept at night.

“Your mama would be real proud of you, too.”

She smacked her hand against the hard wall, not even flinching at the pain that shot through her wrist and down her arm. 

Her mama.

The woman over in the medical building, walking around like everything was fine. Like she hadn't broken their hearts. Abandoned them.

Like her husband didn’t think she was gone forever.

“Pop,” her voice broke.

“Rae, kid.” his voice grew worried, “Talk to me. What’s wrong? Are they sending you back out?"

“No, no.” she shook her head, blinking back tears. She was fine. She was absolutely ok. She was strong. Tough. 

She could handle this. 

“Just miss you. And home. Even miss that stupid broken toaster you never fixed.”

“It works just fine.”

“It burns one side and doesn’t even warm up the other.”

“You just gotta use it right. You treat it right, it’ll treat you right. Just like a woman.”

“Yeah,” she sniffed at the familiar saying. 

“Speaking of,” his tone took a mischievous tone, “how’s that girl of yours? The one with the prettiest blue eyes and a smile that makes you feel all funny inside.”

Raelle couldn’t help the grin that tugged at her cheeks, “I never said that.”

“Pretty sure you wrote about ten pages to me all about her laugh. The longest essay you’ve ever written. Your old English teacher would be thrilled.”

“My old English teacher was blind as a bat and slept through class more than I did.”

“Come on, kid. Tell me about her. How are you two? You charm her enough I need to start lookin’ into if my good suit still fits for the weddin’?”

“Don’ you be startin’ that.” Raelle playfully threatened, her native drawl coming out to join Edwin’s.

“Startin’ what? I’m sure I have your grandma’s old ring around here somewhere. You want it sent up or you gonna pop the question down here? I’ll make tea.”

“Stop.” She breathed out a tiny laugh, “You’re actin’ crazy.”

“Not everyday my kid writes poems about a girl’s eyes.”

Raelle rolled her own blue orbs, “I didn’ write any poems.”

“Sure, kid.”

“Her eyes are pretty, though.”

“How pretty?”

Raelle sighed, “More beautiful than the summer sky when the sun rises after a rainstorm.”

A whistle.

Raelle leaned her forehead against the wall, “She’s special, Pop. She’s so beautiful. And smart. She can do things no one else can. She’s that powerful. She...she can create magic I never thought possible.” Her throat bobbed, “She makes me feel safe. I look at her, and I feel like I can breathe.”

“That’s good, Rae. That’s really good. You hold on to that.”

Raelle sucked in a breath, “Pop?”

“Yeah?”

Her chin quivered, “I love her. I love her so much.”

He stayed silent.

“I’m scared.” tears stung the corners of her eyes, voice barely audible. 

“What’re you scared of?” his tone matched hers.

A lump formed in her throat. Her stomach clenched painfully. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

In.

Hold.

Out.

“She lied to me, Pop. She lied.”

“Rae,”

She wiped at her face, “And, it’s stupid. It’s so stupid, but I can’t...I love her so much, and I can’t stop. I can’t not love her. She could lie to me, and I’d still forgive her. Still want her.” She sniffed, “Am I stupid?”

“No, no Rae.” he soothed. “You’re in love, honey.”

Her knuckles were white as snow around the phone, “I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do.”

“You love her.” he replied simply. “Does she love you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. She believed that. Above all else, more than anything, she believed Scylla loved her. 

“Ok. Then, let her love you.” there was a slight fumble and static as he moved around, “Rae, it’s ok to love someone. And, people in love, they do stuff. They hurt each other. Love hurts. Your mama lied to me about being a witch when we first met. She lied to me about a lot of things. I lied to her too. We fought. We argued. One time, when you were real little, I thought for sure we’d get divorced. But, we loved each other. We stuck it out. We worked through it, together. So, if she loves you as much as you love her, and you believe that, believe in her, then it’s ok to be scared. But, don’t let that fear make you lose something special. You work at it. You fight for it every day. You fight for her and let her fight for you. If it’s worth it, if she’s worth it, you do what I know you can and you work your ass off at loving her.”

The lump in her throat was the size of a boulder. She couldn’t form words, no sound could get past the knot.

“Raelle, you’re my kid, and I love you. More than anything on this earth. If she treats you right, if she loves you enough to fight for you, then, you let me find that old suit of mine because all I ever wanted for you was to be happy and healthy.”

“She’s worth it.” she croaked out. 

“Good. Now, what did you do to get her to give you a chance? I had to follow your mama around with flowers for weeks before she agreed to a date.”

Raelle flushed as she remembered that first week of Basic, “Who says I was the one chasin’?”

“We both know that girl’s the catch. Us Collars always aim high and are too lovestruck to know when a girl likes us till we’re dancing in the moonlight and she kisses us.”

Wasn’t that the truth, “I called her beautiful.”

“That’ll do it.”

She shifted on her feet, “Pop?”

“Yeah, Rae?”

She let the words that she never spoke to anyone slowly work up from her heart and paint her secrets across pale pink lips, “What if I leave and can’t come back to her? What if I hurt her?”

The line stilled.

She remembered his face when the military officer arrived on their doorstep, somber and stoic. She remembered how white her gloves were. How pristine the dress uniform. 

The way her face never changed, as she told them her mama wasn’t coming home.

“You do what you can, Rae. You take care of yourself and wear that damn bird’s foot and do whatever you need to, to make it home.”

She could feel the phantom knife slicing through her back, the taste of blood on her lips, bitter and dark. 

She could see the casualties piling up. Beds full of moaning groaning soldiers, blackened from fire and begging for mercy. 

She could hear Scylla’s voice.

“I love you.” Scylla repeated, unable to keep the pain from her voice, “And I can’t lose you. Not again. So, you’re going to stop. You are going to take care of yourself  and quit being a reckless idiot.”

Scylla twisted the scratchy material of Raelle’s jacket between her fingers, right over where she knew a scar resided, “Hate me. I don’t care. Do whatever you want to me. But, do not make me have to go to your funeral again.” A lone tear broke through and slid down her cheek, “I can’t do that again, Raelle. I can’t.”

“Raelle,” his voice was firm, “you can’t worry about us. You have to worry about you. You take care of yourself, and you come home. You remember that there are people who love you. No matter what. If you keep goin’, we’ll be here at the end ready to catch you.”

“Mama didn’t come back.” Her voice shook, “You still have her picture in your wallet.”

“Rae, I love your mama to the moon and back. Ain’t no other woman other there for me. I don’t blame her for not coming home. And, no matter how much I wanted her to stay, neither of us could let our fears stop us from being happy during the time that we had together. You remember that girl of yours, and you’ll come home.”

She never hated her mother more than in that moment.

Willa snapped, “And getting yourself killed because you’re too stubborn to admit when you’ve had enough, when you need help, is love? Forcing the people who care about you to watch as you fade away because you’ll save everyone but yourself is love? You are ignoring your own pain, your own hurts, and you are making everyone else watch. You are making us see you slowly die.” She planted her hands on the desk, “That isn’t how you treat your loved ones, either.”

Another voice. Another memory.

“Shut up.” Scylla ordered. Her chest rose and fell with each harsh pant, “You are not doing this. You are not killing yourself on some stupid suicide pact you’ve had with yourself since Basic.”

“What if I get tired like Mama got?” What if she couldn’t take it anymore? What if the visions in her head became too much? She couldn’t catch a breath when her chest seized up at random times? She became war meat on the front line? 

He exhaled heavily, “Then you rest, Rae.” More shuffling, “Your Mama was strong. Strongest woman I knew. She didn’t know how to not be strong. You get that strength of yours from her. She didn’t let anyone help her. Not like that. And, she couldn’t. She didn’t think she could let us help her. She thought she had to, I don’t know, protect us from what she was going through. You don’t have to protect anyone, Rae. Not like that. You rest and you let that girl of yours give you a hug or you talk to those unit pals of yours or you give me a call. Alright? I bet even that Sergeant who shook my hand at your graduation and told me you were talented would take a walk with you.”

She nodded silently. 

“What if...I get angry? What if I hurt her on purpose?”

She’s dead to me.

We all have to go sometime.

I’m sorry we ever met, Scyl.

“You got that temper of yours from your mama’s side of the family. You’ve always had a wild streak about you, that’s for sure. Hot and cold. But, you’ve always listened to your heart, Rae. Sometimes, you pretended like you couldn’t hear it, but you always listened in the end. You might say things you don’t mean. You apologize and try not to do it again. Even wild horses and lone wolves  learn to run with the pack.”  

She let his words settle in her mind.

“I love you, Pop.”

“Love you, too, Rae.”

Rubbing away the hint of emotion from her eyes, “I gotta go.”

“Ok, kid. Don’t be a stranger, alright? Give your ol’ man a call soon. I gotta tell you about that new lacrosse field the school is finally putting in. New sod and everything.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Ok, you take care of yourself. Pay attention in class.”

“Ok,” her voice lowered, “bye, Pop.”

“Bye, Rae.”

She carefully dropped the phone back in its cradle.

She held onto it for a second, breathing slowly. Methodically.

“You done?” an impatient voice asked behind her.

Raelle nodded, pushing away from the wall. She dipped past the younger cadet and meandered down the hallway, mind elsewhere.

“So, if she loves you as much as you love her, and you believe that, believe in her, then it’s ok to be scared. But, don’t let that fear make you lose something special. You work at it. You fight for it every day. You fight for her and let her fight for you. If it’s worth it, if she’s worth it, you do what I know you can and you work your ass off at loving her.”

Her feet picked up speed, and she flew out of the building. Before she knew it, she was sprinting across Fort Salem, hopping over curbs and darting around marching privates.

She didn’t slow down until she jumped up the steps of the old office building that had been turned into a barracks for the Spree agents working with the soldiers. She even gained speed, flinging herself down the hallway and all but crashing into a closed door near the very end on the third floor.

She raised her fist, pounding on the door as her chest heaved, lungs gasping for air.

The door swung open, a surprised pair of blue eyes widening at the sight of her, “Raelle?”

Raelle stepped forward, cupping Scylla’s face in both hands and capturing her lips in a heated kiss that made her toes curl and body feel like it was floating on salva.

Scylla kissed her back, hands flailing before grabbing her shoulders, fingers digging into the rough material of her jacket and chest pressing into her own. 

Raelle tilted her head, deepening the kiss even more. Lips, teeth, tongue, all worked together to alleviate the pressure in her soul.

They stumbled into the makeshift dorm room, tripping over a chair and crashing onto the bed. Raelle’s calloused palms slid down, caressing a path along a delicate neck and across ticklish ribs to supple hips. She grasped the back of smooth jean clad thighs, lifting and pushing Scylla fully onto the mattress. Hungry lips swallowed a throaty moan. Her hips stuttered when short fingernails lightly scratched the back of her neck, teasing the fine hairs at the nape before trickling down to massage scorching flesh. 

Her mouth broke away, inhaling sharply before attaching to the inviting throat, sucking on the pulse beating rapidly beneath her tongue.

“Rae, baby.” Scylla panted, knees crooking and cradling the body above her.

Raelle exhaled, mouth trailing down until she nuzzled the crook of her neck, “I love you.”

“Raelle?”

The blonde raised her head, shifting so she could rest her forehead against the brunette’s. She let the calm comforting presence envelope her, enter her blood and fill every inch of her being. 

“I love you, Scyl.” Raelle whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Scylla assured her. She ran her hand along the back of Raelle’s head, smoothing down the loose hair and tickling her scalp, “What’s going on?”

“I believe you.” she spoke with more conviction than she ever had before. “I want this. I want you. I...there’s so much sometimes. But, I meant it. When we were in the Park. I want to come home to you. I always want to come back to you. I’m always going to come back to you .”

Scylla gently kissed her, “I’ll be here. I go wherever you go. Ok?”

Raelle nodded, “I just want to do the right thing.”

“You are, baby. You are.” She kissed her cheek, “Remember that safe spot? The one we are going to go to once this is all over? We are still going to go. Once this war is over, we’ll run away together. Lay out on the beach and watch the boats go by. Take naps and feed the birds. We won’t leave our bed for days.”

“I want that. I do.” Her voice caught in the back of her throat, “I don’t like fire. I can’t...I can’t stop feeling it. Smelling it. It’s everywhere. All the time. And...my mom...I’m so mad, Scyl. I’m so mad.”

“Shhh, it’s ok. It’s ok, Rae.”

“I don’t want to smell smoke anymore. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You’re not. You won’t.” she kissed the dip of her chin, the thin white scar, “I trust you, Raelle. Abigail and Tally trust you. Anacostia trusts you.”

“I can’t stop, Scyl. I can’t stop.” No matter how hard she tried, the urge to fix coursed through her veins and ignited her spirit when she saw someone in danger. “Sometimes I get so mad, and I…I get scared...I’m scared, Scyl,” she brokenly confessed, “I’m scared...and I can’t breathe...and…it hurts...I see my mom and it hurts so much...I can’t think...I....”

“Raelle,” Scylla tenderly squeezed the back of her neck to get her attention, before tapping a familiar rhythm, “you count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Ok? You talk. You breathe. You let me help you. Please, baby. We both know you’re too stubborn to not get yourself into trouble. When you do, you let me help you. Let Tally and Abigail help you. Ok? I’m scared, too. I know what it’s like to wake up and know you’re not going to be there. That I might never see you again. So, we work on it, right? Like we said we would. You and me. You’re the one who told me that, remember? No matter what. We’ll figure it out.”

Her jaw worked, “I want to watch the boats with you.”  

“I know. We will. We’ll sit and watch the boats till the sun sets.”

It sounded perfect.

It sounded like a dream.

That might be all it would ever be.

Chapter Text

The tire hit a dip in the road, causing the side of the bus to drop a bit before righting itself. Raelle let her body sway with the movement, feet firmly planted on the floor as she let her elbows rest on her bent knee and twisted her torso, stretching the kink in her back out.

“I didn’t say shit to him.” Abigail innocently shrugged her shoulders with a knowing smirk from beside her, tall in her seat and eyes sharp with mirth.

Trees and shrubs whipped by them outside the window, a steady stream of green, brown, and golden sunshine. It had been a good day. A nice spring day. The sky was clear and the softest blue the women had seen in quite some time. A few white clouds of fluff dotted the crystal sea of air and the warmth from the sun wrapped them all in a comfortable hug. 

Tally raised an eyebrow at her and tilted her head, answering her friend’s look with one of her own incredulous ones. She turned her body so her shoulder relaxed against the back of her seat, diagonal from the rest of her unit. They were seated near the middle of the vehicle, a couple rows full of chatting War College cadets chatting about boys, girls, annoying teachers, and whatever else came to mind ahead of and behind them.

“What? I didn’t.” Abigail returned the look.

“Must be a High Atlantic trait” Raelle straightened, her spine no longer zinging, “You gave him that look. The one that says “I’ll kick your ass without breaking a sweat and then go sit for tea with the President.”

“Raelle would know. You gave her that look everyday our first week of Basic.” Tally nodded. “Actually, you still give her that look.”

Raelle made a face, causing Tally to grin at her.

“Of course,” Tally continued, her grin growing more impish, “Raelle never even sees it because she can only see the love of her life.”

Raelle’s eyes rolled but a dusting of red brushed across her cheekbones. 

“How is Necro? I haven’t seen your heart eyes on her in a few days.” Abigail turned her attention to the short blonde.

“She’s fine. Working with Izadora on something.” They hadn’t been able to talk much since Scylla was caught up in a special project with the older necro, but every night, Raelle felt a reminder of the love that anchored her in the darkness. She unconsciously rubbed the inside of her left hand, tracing where a raised S would appear later that evening, helping to calm her and chase away the demons that hid in the shadows of her mind. “I don’t have heart eyes.”

Raelle could feel Abigail about to say something, “Don’t.”

Tally sprung in, “It’s cute. You are cute together.”

“Whatever,” Raelle’s blush covered her entire face. She tried to fight the dopey smile from forming.

“Aww, look at our chaotic little puppy of destruction. She’s blushing.” Abigail cooed.

“I hate you.” grumbled Raelle as Abigail nudged her shoulder.

“We’re really happy for you, Rae.” Tally ducked her head to catch her gaze. “You look happy.”

“I am happy.” She was. Not always. Not every day. Not even every minute. But, she wasn’t as sad. Wasn’t as angry. A sense of pure radiant hope had taken shape inside of her, and she allowed it to slowly bloom with gentle kisses and sure touches.

“Oh, we know you’re happy.” Abigail chortled, “We were all on Base for Beltane. We felt that energy burst.”

“For the good of the Unit, right?” Raelle cheekly tossed back.

“Your entire body was glowing when you walked in for breakfast that morning...or was it dinner.” Tally teased, “That hickey on your neck was so big I thought it was your witch’s mark.”

Raelle absently pressed her palm to the side of her throat, the smooth skin no longer marked by hungry teeth and possessive lips.

Goddess, Beltane.

Raelle felt the power coursing through her. The need. The want. The undeniable call to touch every inch of the woman in her arms. Worship her like the goddess she was. Kiss her until she floated back up to the heavens she descended from to grace this mere mortal with her alluring smile and endless beauty.

She shuddered as teeth nipped at the tender skin of her neck, muscles straining as she arched into Scylla, fingers working faster. Hands caressed her, everywhere and nowhere. Urging her deeper. Harder. More. Always more.

Raelle complied. She would always give her what she wanted. What she craved.

“Love you,” she gasped as Scylla sucked hard, hand slipping between Raelle’s sticky thighs.

“Next year they’re only going to need you two to do the dance. Enough energy to power the entire country.” Abigail chuckled.

“Look at your face.” Tally leaned closer, “How shiny is that mark? Still glowing?”

“Fuck off, Tally.” Raelle lightly pushed at her face.

Tally wiggled her eyebrows, but quickly let her smirk turn to a friendly smile, “We really are happy for you, though, Rae.”

“Necro is good for you.” Abigail admitted with a sigh. She’d never let Scylla hear it, “Modern miracle.”

“Scylla loves you.” Tally shrugged, “You let her love you.”

Raelle bit her lip, “Yeah.”

Tally scooted closer to the edge of her seat, “We know you’re working through some things. “With,” her voice lowered, “your mom and the war.” Her voice rose back to its normal pitch, “It’s good that she’s there for you.”

“And if she isn’t, she’ll find out just how badass a Bellweather can be.” promised Abigail. “No one gives my shirtbird shit except me.”

Raelle’s lips quirked with silent understanding at what was really being said.

“How is it going with...your mom?” Tally quietly asked, eyes pure and concerned.

Raelle’s face dropped.

“You are my only child, Raelle. I love you more than anything. I want you to be happy. Protected. I wanted you with me.”

“Rae, I love your mama to the moon and back. Ain’t no other woman other there for me. I don’t blame her for not coming home.  

“Fine.” Raelle grit out. Shoulders so taut it felt like they might snap, she looked away from the caring gaze, “It’s fine.”

“Have you spoken to her since that day?”

“No,” she made a point to not go anywhere near where she knew her mother would be. If that meant taking an extra fifteen minutes to get to class, then so be it. 

“Maybe you should.” Abigail chimed in.

“No,” Raelle shook her head, “This...this isn’t like it was with Scylla.” Her chest began to ache, “I don’t want to think about her. I don’t want to see her. Focus on the mission, right? Isn’t that what you always preach?”

“She’s your mom.”

“Yeah, and we know how great moms are, right?” Raelle bit out. 

Abigail sat back as Tally reached forward, settling her hand on Raelle's knee, “You care about her. Whether or not you forgive her, we support you. We just want you to be ok.”

“I am ok.” She was getting there. “Scylla helps me be ok.”

“You don’t have to just rely on Scylla.”

She gulped, “I know.”

“Good.” Tally squeezed her knee. 

“And, you don’t have to keep taking the long way around Base to get to class, weirdo. Just walk with us.” Abigail smirked, “If you can drag yourself out of whatever bed Scylla’s in.”

“You could barely walk after Beltane.” Tally joked.

“Shut up.” Raelle grinned, grateful for the change in subject, “It’s not my fault my girlfriend is sexy as hell.”

“Girlfriend.” squealed Tally. “We are back to girlfriends.”

“About time. Thought we’d have to stage an intervention. Lock you two in a room.” Abigail jostled her.

“Go ahead.” Raelle winked, “Maybe leave a pair of handcuffs just in case, you know, we try to escape.”

Abigail’s eyebrows rose, “Damn, Collar.”

“Living that dodger style life, Bellweather.”

Tally opened her mouth to say something, but instantly closed it. Her smile fell away.

Noticing the change, Raelle peered over at her, “Tal?”

“Something’s wrong.” Her eyes widened and she jumped to her feet, “Stop the truck!”

“Tal, what?” Raelle grabbed the back of the seat in front of her, ready to pull herself up.

Then,

The world turned upside down.

Pain.

That’s the first thing Raelle became aware of.

Relentless all consuming pain.

Tiny rocks and chips of asphalt dug into her cheek and scratched the edge of her eye from where her face was pressed into the road. Crumbs of pavement and metal littered the ground around her, sparkling like tiny diamonds in the sunlight. A heavy weight pushed down on her back, forcing her breath to catch wetly. It was like a hundred men stood on her spine, pushing and pushing until she sank through the molten earth and fell till she reached the center. 

Ringing.

All she could hear was a constant insistent ringing.

She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. She felt so tired. So damn tired. A knife slashed at the backs of her eyes, stabbing the inside of her head again and again. She felt a warm liquid pool in her ear and drip down her cheek. She could taste the dank copper as it curled at the corner of her mouth.

She smelled smoke.

She felt heat. Constant unending unforgiving heat.

Fire.

Summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she cracked her eyes open.

Everything was a blur. Unfocused. Random blobs and colors and shapes.

Her fingers slowly inched over the hot blacktop stinging as debris cut into the unprotected flesh. 

Her mind was like mud. Full of molasses. She tried to remember where she was. What was happening. She couldn’t. Couldn’t understand. Couldn’t concentrate.

She just wanted to go back to sleep.

She just wanted to rest.

A deafening roar burst out behind her.

She barely heard it over the ringing.

The damn ringing. 

She needed it to stop.

It was like Base’s third bell lived inside her head, going off and off forever.

Blinking dazedly, the shapes and blobs slowly began to meld together. 

A tree.

A shrub.

A burning chunk of metal.

The bus.

The bus they had been riding in.

They were heading back to Base after a quick trip into Salem proper. A chance for the soldiers to interact with the civilians and foster relations that were still strained after the attack that seemed so long ago. Grab a slice of pizza and show they were not the ones to be feared.

They had been heading back to Fort Salem.

They.

The Unit.

Tally and Abigail.

She had to find them.

Willing her eyes to fully open, she winced as the dirt rubbed against her eye. Breathing as deeply as she could, she tried to move.

Pain.

Absolute pain.

She exhaled sharply, biting her lip to hold in the howl.

It hurt so much.

She had to find Tally and Abigail.

They could be hurt.

Everyone could be hurt.

Locking her jaw, she slowly pushed her hands into the ground. Her arms shook violently, threatening to collapse. 

Her chest lifted from the ground.

The weight awkwardly slid off her back.

A piece of metal. Twisted and deformed into an ugly scrap of sharp edges and splintering iron fell to her side. 

She wobbled, wavering as her body tried to adjust to the difference. 

She had to move.

She couldn't rest.

If she rested…

She was so tired.

“Then you rest, Rae.” Edwin’s voice was the balm it always was.

“Raelle,” Willa’s voice softened a fraction more, her commanding visage flickering, “go. Shower. Clean up and rest.”

Scylla inhaled sharply, the jab landing. “You need to rest.”

No.

Abigail and Tally needed her.

She wouldn’t let them down.

A desperate animalistic grunt erupted from her broken body as she climbed to her knees. Blood and dirt stained her ripped uniform, painting her in gruesome reds and browns. The blood rolled down from her ears, where that neverending ringing refused to stop. She coughed, red tinged spit splattering in the puddle of blood already growing beneath her. 

Twisting her head as far as she could, she took in the sight before her.

The bus was on its back, ripped to shreds and barely a shell of what it used to be just five minutes ago. Bodies covered the road, some moving, some not. Fire burned bright in the metal carcass, flames licking at the rivers of oil streaming outward like tributaries to the sea.

She opened her mouth to call out, but no sound came out. Her throat ached. Burned.

All she could smell was smoke.

All she could feel was pain. Was hell’s inferno beckoning her closer. 

She coughed again, wheezing wetly as her insides felt like they were melting and churning into lava.

Then, she spotted her.

The familiar tuft of brown hair and dark skin. 

Abigail.

She was laid out on her back, half propped up on an elbow as she tried to move. Her leg was bent at an awkward angle. At the wrong angle. A deep gash sliced across her face, bleeding profusely.

She had to fix her. She could fix her.

Jaw so tight it hurt, Raelle staggered to her feet. She didn’t wait for the pain to catch up, the rush of dizziness as her stomach flipped and bile rose. She tripped forward, stumbling to her knees after only a few steps. She didn’t stop, determinedly dragging herself across the scarred pavement. She ignored the way hot bits of metal and jagged rocks jabbed at her exposed skin. 

She just kept moving.

“Shit, Raelle?” Abigail gasped as her dusty browns landed on the girl crawling toward her. 

“Hey,” Raelle crossed the last few feet.

“You look like shit, shitbird.”

“Should see the other guy.” Raelle tumbled against her.

“A bomb.” Abigail surveyed the carnage, “Had to be a bomb. Planted on the side of the road.”

Raelle nodded, only catching half of what she said. She laid a hand on Abigail’s thigh, “Lay back down.”

“Raelle? Collar, no.” Abigail batted at her hands, “Stop.”

“I can fix you.” Raelle murmured.

It was so hot.

Harsh miserable moans echoed around them.

The fire blazed.

“Collar!”

Raelle’s eyes snapped up as Abigail shoved her away.

“I’m ok. You’re worse than me.” Abigail explained. Worry filled her voice, “You’re a lot worse than me.”

Raelle began to shake her head, but the world spun faster and the knife jabbed again.

“A hidden roadside bomb.” Abigail muttered, “How did we not sweep for it? How did we not know?”

Know.

Know.

“Tally knew.” Raelle breathed out. 

Their eyes locked. Fear filled them both.

Tally.

Where was Tally?

Both scanned the area, terror locking them in its cold grip.

“Shit.” Abigail breathed.

Raelle followed her gaze.

A few feet away was red hair and a serene face.

Tally.

She wasn’t moving.

“Tally!” Abigail shouted. She tried to move, but groaned as her leg throbbed.

“Tal,” Raelle spoke softly. “Tal.” she rolled, clawing her way over.

“Raelle!” Abigail tried to catch her but missed.

Raelle clambered to her, plodding inch by inch until she was at her best friend’s side.

First burst into the sky, a flaming ball of toxic heat flaring up from the lake of gas surrounding the crushed vehicle.

She hit the ground hard, gravel kicking up as the shards of scorching unbearable heat slammed into her.

Ash threatened to fill her lungs. Paint her insides white and grey and bleak.

Ash filled the air, choking her lungs and making it nearly impossible to breathe. She squinted through the haze, feeling the heat of flames around her as she knelt over the half dead soldier.

“Please...please...I don’t want to die.”

No one was going to die. Not today.

“Move your ass, Collar. I know you can run faster than that. Your Unit depends on you. Are you going to let them down?” Anacostia shouted above the rain and wind as the cadets raced along the obstacle course. 

Muscles protesting and ligaments screaming, Raelle forced her body to move. 

“Tal, hey Tal.” she shoved her brittle and ragged hands to Tally’s neck, tenderly enclosing it in her grasp, “I got you. I’m gonna fix you.”

The stench of blood overpowered the smoke. 

There was blood on Tally’s face. Her arms. 

There was blood inside. Raelle knew it. Couldn’t see it, but could feel it.

So much bleeding inside.

“I’m gonna fix you.” she vowed. She closed her eyes and focused, let the familiar power roll through her.

“Ask, and it shall be given you. 

Seek, and ye shall find

Knock, and it shall be open unto you.”

Her entire body began to tremble.

So much pain.

So much blood.

“For every one that asketh

Receiveth, and he that seeketh

Findeth, and to him that knocketh

It shall be opened.”

It hurt so much.

It felt like it would never stop.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

Fire. Fire. Fire.

A hand clamped around her wrist.

Raelle’s eyes shot open. She looked down to see half lidded honey brown orbs.

“For thine is the kingdom

The power and the glory

For ever and ever.”

The hold on her wrist tightened.

Raelle started to recite the words again, but the grip on her wrist turned harsh.

“Raelle,”

“It’s ok, Tal. I got you.” She stared into the eyes that offered her friendship. Offered her sisterhood. Offered her the first friendly face she encountered at Basic. Offered her happiness and laughter and support.

“No, Rae.”

“I can do this, Tal. I can fix you.”

A tiny image flashed in her mind.

Porter.

The boy she couldn’t save.

The boy who was too far gone.

“Rae,”

“I can fix you.” her lips trembled. Tears mixed with blood.

There was so much internal bleeding. So much pain.

Her textbooks and teachers would tell her it was too late. Too much damage.

Raelle would tell them to fuck off.

“Ask and it shall be given you,” she began again.

“Raelle Collar.” Tally’s voice broke through, “stop. It’s ok.”

“No,” Raelle shook her head. “Let me concentrate. I...I need to concentrate.”

“Ask, and it shall be given you. 

Seek, and ye shall find

Knock, and it shall be open unto you.”

“I love you, Raelle.” Tally whispered wetly, blood coating her tongue. “You’re my family.”

Raelle choked, unable to get the words out. Unable to continue.

“Abi needs you.”

She ducked her head, forehead resting against Tally’s.

“It’s ok, Rae. Don’t make me pull rank.”

“It’s one above me, and it’s bullshit. Just like with Bellweather.”

Tally shook with pain, “You’re my sisters. My witches.”

Raelle sobbed.

“Love you two. Take care of her. Scylla too. Don’t...Don’t get all grumpy and closed off. You know you do.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“You and Abigail take care of each other.” Tally ordered. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not your fault, Raelle.”

Raelle swallowed thickly, barely able to get it past the lump in her throat.

“Tell Scylla you love her a lot. Your heart eyes are adorable. Always liked her.”

“Shut up.”

Her eyes turned glassy, “Love you, Rae.”

“Love you, too, Tal.”

The hold on her wrist loosened.

The hand fell.

“Tal? Tally? Tally!” Raelle screamed. Her fingers swept over the pale neck, searching for a pulse.

There was none.

“No,” Raelle shook her head. “No.”

“Raelle!”

“I can fix you. I can fix you.”

“RAELLE!”

The blonde reluctantly looked up at her friend’s shout.

Abigail was breathing heavily,”What’s happening? Is she ok? Is Tally ok?

Pursing her lips, Raelle turned to look one last time at the woman who became so much to her. 

We’re special, you guys.

I think I just got flirted with.

We’re here. We got you.

I did it to protect you. Please, believe me.

Love you, Rae

She leant down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“Rest, Tal. I’ll see you later.”

Then, she slunk away, scrambling back to Abigail’s side.

“Is Tally ok?” Abigail asked.

“Shut up and lay down.” Raelle ordered. She flicked the blood out of her eyes and somehow forced Abigail onto her back. She clamped her hands to the base of Abigail’s throat, 

“Ask, and it shall be given you. 

Seek, and ye shall find

Knock, and it shall be open unto you.”

The rumble of trucks shook the ground. She didn’t look up as the medical transports screeched to a halt and witches leapt out, fixers rushing to the injured soldiers’ sides. 

Willa Collar launched herself out of a still moving truck and sprinted over to her daughter.

She placed her hands on Raelle, “Raelle,”

“Go to Tally.” Raelle ordered, never look at her.

“You,”

“Go. To. Tally.” her voice broke to a fractured whisper, “Please, Mama.”

Then, she started chanting again.

She blocked everything out.

Everything but the words.

And the pain.

Chapter Text

The chair was hard. 

Uncomfortable.

A piece of metal that was haphazardly manufactured for pennies and so old and overused it was barely holding itself together.

Scylla didn’t even notice.

She didn’t notice much beyond the woman on the bed, stale standard white sheets tucked tightly around her waist and darkened puffy redlined eyelids covering the twinkling blues that captured Scylla’s heart and never gave it back.

She eased forward, the chair squeaking loudly in the quiet room. 

She wasn’t going to cry.

She couldn’t cry.

Not right now.

Not here.

Scylla chewed on her bottom lip, letting her gaze rest on the slow rise and fall of Raelle’s chest as she slept.

A small comfort. She was breathing. She was alive.

She stared. Couldn’t look away.

Afraid if she did, it would stop. Those lungs would stop taking in the bleach infused air and that heart, that beautiful caring hardened heart, would stop beating.

She was not going to look away.

Biting her lip harder, Scylla took a shuddering breath of her own. 

Goddess, this couldn’t be happening.

Not again.

This wasn’t real. 

A stupid nightmare. She’d wake up and be back in that tiny regulation bed with her girlfriend’s arms wrapped around her and a gentle yet hungry mouth offering devoted kisses as hands tickled her sides before slipping lower.

Raelle was supposed to be safe. Staying at Fort Salem and focusing on her classes while other people, other units, were deployed. Joking with her friends and planning the date the two of them were going to take once Scylla came back from her short trip with Izadora to collect some samples. 

Not getting hurt.

Not almost dying.

The look Izadora gave Scylla when they were leaving to head back to Base is etched forever in her memory. The way her head tilted and eyes glazed over as she listened to a message from leadership, from a friend willing to break protocol and inform her about the circumstances before they got there and learned from a news report or whispered gossip.

The way her face softened and shoulders dropped as she looked at Scylla, her own features flickering with concern.

They needed to get back quickly.

There was an attack.

Scylla didn’t even hear who was involved. She didn’t need to. 

She knew.

She fucking knew.

Her chest tightened. Lungs constricted so hard she could barely take in a gasp of air.

The journey back to Fort Salem had been the longest of her life.

Raelle looked so small in the bed. Face covered in bruises, garish blacks and blues and purples that only mother nature in her most hateful sadistic moments could paint. She was in a gown, her uniform supposedly so bloody and torn it was nothing more than brittle broken trash to be burned along with the memories of the witches who had died because humans hated them. Despised them. Hunted them down and murdered them.

Humans did this.

They placed that bomb on the side of the road, knowing the bus was coming.

A bus full of unsuspecting young witches. All that youth and grace and life extinguished in a moment of monstrous cruelty.

Hadn’t they taken enough?

The Camarilla. The civilians. The military.

Hadn’t they stolen enough from her?

Her parents.

Her family.

Her future.

They couldn’t take Raelle. Not her, too.

But, hadn’t they already?

Scylla clenched her jaw harshly, teeth aching as they grit against the wave of anger and sadness that beat against her soul.

Raelle, her beautiful sweet headstrong lover. No one cared that she was hurting. That she couldn’t sleep at night without Scylla’s quiet calming breaths beside her. That she sometimes couldn’t move, couldn think, could only drown in panic because someone lit the fireplace. 

How her heart was broken and no matter how much Scylla tried to sew it back up, someone, something else would come along and tear it back in two.

A damn bomb.

Raelle had to witness fire and rage again.

Didn’t they know Raelle hated fire?

Didn’t they understand that the woman Scylla loved was fading away? That Scylla was desperately trying to hold on to her, but in her deepest darkest most depressing moments...wasn’t sure she could.

Scylla couldn’t lose her. Not Raelle.

Not again.

She wouldn’t let them take her. Wouldn’t let them steal the one ray of sunshine her world had. A grumpy gorgeous charming scoundrel who liked to cuddle and made corny jokes that she learned from her dad.

She was everything.

A sob bubbled up, threatening to push past the lump in Scylla’s throat and spill out into the silent infirmary, infecting everything in sight with the utter absolute agony that resided inside the girl.

Raelle could have died.

She should have died.

Stupid, stubborn, noble Raelle who tried to fix people even when she was on the brink of death herself.

Goddess, she could be so stupid. So self-sacrificing. She didn’t think about herself. Didn’t think about how the injuries she attempted to heal would hurt her far worse than the one she wanted to help. Didn’t give a damn about the people she would leave behind.

That she was leaving Scylla behind.

Of course she didn’t. Her first thought was always to help. To rush in like a fool and take on the world.

She wasn’t even trying to be a hero. She was just being Raelle.

And damn Scylla, she loved her.

Loved her and couldn’t, wouldn’t change her. Not the very essence that forged the spirit of the only person she would ever love this way. The person she wanted forever with.

Goddess, please, let them have a future. 

Together.

Scylla hesitantly raised her hands. They trembled as she made to reach out to Raelle’s hand, still as stone and just as white, perched on the bed near her hip. She could see the lines on the back of it, see the chipped knuckles and angry cuts that were still not healed because her girlfriend took so much on her body would need to take an eternity to heal, if it ever did at all.

A broken body for a broken soul.

Her fingers wiggled, anxious but unable to rest in the spot they so craved. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Scylla didn’t look up at the voice hovering beside her.

“No visitors. You need to leave.” the nurse instructed sternly.

Scylla scoffed and pulled her hands back, folding them in her lap.

Nothing could make her leave Raelle’s side.

Nothing.

“I said, you need to leave.” the nurse moved closer, “Strict orders. No visitors. Get out before I call the MPs and your commanding officer.” 

Scylla grit her teeth, “Does it look like I have a commanding officer?” Her wrinkled plain long sleeve t-shirt and high waisted washed out jeans were nowhere near the required uniform for military personnel. 

“Spree.”

“Scylla, actually.” she sniped. 

“You should not be anywhere near here. You…”

“She can stay.” Abigail’s clear tone cut off whatever the nurse was going to say. 

“She is…”

“Did I stutter?” Abigail glared. “I have the authority from my CO, your CO, and as the commanding officer of Collar’s Unit to say who can and cannot visit her. Necro stays.”

The nurse rolled her eyes and stomped off with a huff.

Scylla’s mouth quivered as she felt Abigail step into the space vacated at her side, “Thought I’d have the pull the Bellweather card.”

“Didn’t know that ever worked for you.”

“It does for those who aren’t macabre shitbirds.” a hint of what could have been thought of as camaraderie filtered in.

Scylla’s lips quirked with a tiny sad smile, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” She nodded at the bed, “How’s our girl?”

Our girl.

Scylla watched the rise and fall, “Asleep. Resting.”

“About damn time. Shitbird’s been a mess with you gone. I swear she moves around so much at night just to piss me off. Not even night patrol can deal with her. I caught her trying to read ahead for one of her classes more than once in the middle of the night. She even smuggled in a book on mushrooms.” 

Mushrooms. “I’m here now, so I guess you won’t have to worry about that.”

“I guess not.”

A silence descended upon them. Not completely comfortable, but not antagonistic.

Like two people who were finally seeing if they could fit.

“I have to go.” Abigail spoke after a minute. “My mom has been on my ass about classes. And Tally…” her voice died out.

Without thinking, Scylla pressed a comforting hand to Abigail’s arm.

Abigail took a deep breath, regaining her composure. “Tally likes you. You should visit her, too. If you can stop making those sickening heart eyes for a few minutes.”

Tally. The redhead who hung out with her at the Bellweather wedding what felt like a lifetime ago. The one who still offered her friendly smiles and supported Raelle in fighting her demons.

Scylla let her hand fall, “Yeah. I will.”

“Good.” with a firm nod, she began to turn away. Before she left, she touched Scylla’s shoulder, “Hold her hand. Collar is a dork about that stuff. I swear, I’ve had to hear her talk about your hands, and I am pretending all you two do with them is holding.”

“Something like that.” Scylla cracked a smirk. “A lot of holding.”

“I bet.” Abigail patted her shoulder. “Necro.”

“High and Mighty.”

Boots clacked away, the sound growing distant and then disappearing.

Scylla peeked at the hand on the bed, shaking her head at what just happened.

Abigail Bellweather. Who saw that coming?

Raelle did. She mentioned a few times how her and Abigail were close now. How Abigail wasn’t the complete elitist jackass many thought she was.

“Your Unit is crazy.” Scylla muttered under her breath.

Vision tracing the curves and dips of Raelle’s hand, she leaned forward.

She was scared.

Scared to touch her.

Scared this really was just a dream and the moment she reached out, closed the gap, it would all disappear.

She’d be back in that dungeon.

Back at the funeral.

Back to a time where Raelle wasn’t there.

Stealing herself, she placed her shaking palm on top of Raelle’s. 

It was cool, the skin chapped.

It was like holding the most precious gemstone.

“Hi,” Scylla exhaled quietly. Her eyes stung and her voice quaked, “Hi, baby.”

Raelle didn’t stir.

Scylla swallowed, throat bobbing, “You sure did a number on yourself this time. Can’t leave you alone for one minute. I’m going to have to tell Bellweather to not let you leave your room.” She huffed a wet laugh, “You’d still probably get yourself into trouble even then.”

She caressed each knuckle, drawing little shapes, “Izadora and I finished. We got what we needed. She’s ready to start researching. Wants me to help once I’m able.” She sniffed, “She said I can take my time. No rush. She...sends her best. Would like to see you once you get better. She likes you, but who doesn’t, right?”

She lifted the hand, slipping hers underneath and curling her fingers and thumb around the knicks and bruises. “When I said you needed to rest, this wasn’t what I meant.” She ducked her head. Emotions churned low in her belly, and she needed a moment. Needed a moment to not break. Not crumble.

Just needed a moment.

“Damn it, Raelle.” she croaked, “You can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep finding out you’ve gotten yourself hurt. That you did something stupid and heroic and...I need you to come home. You said you would always come back to me. We don’t lie to each other. Not anymore. We made promises, and damn it, we are keeping them.”

She carefully brought the hand up to her lips, placed a light kiss before resting their joined fingers against her forehead and closing her eyes, “I love you. I love you more than anything in the world.” Her body slumped, “I’m tired, too. I don’t...it hurts. Seeing you like this hurts so much, and I want to be here. I am here. But,” a tear slipped out, paving a mournful path down her cheek, “I can’t keep doing this. We can’t keep doing this.” She squeezed her eyes shut so tight she saw stars, “We can run away. Never look back. Go to our safe spot and live out our lives.”

A tiny sob broke through.

Raelle would never run.

Not like that.

Not when her Unit was still there.

Not when there was still a fight to be won. People to be helped.

Damn it.

“I need you to help me.” Scylla pressed the hand to her mouth to hold in the cries, cover the anguish, “Help me, baby, because I can’t do this alone.” Her voice tumbled into the barest hint of a whisper, “I’m not strong enough anymore.”

She was so angry. She could tear the entire building down. Angry at Raelle. At the Camarilla. At the Army. At society. At herself.

She was so sad. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. Weep until there were no tears left. 

She was so...hurt. Grief stricken. Confused. 

She felt so much.

There was so much

Suddenly, she just wanted to crawl into bed with Raelle. Hold her close and breath in the faint hint of pine and cession moonshine that clung to her no matter how far away from home she was mixed with freshly cut training ground grass and polished scourge leather.

Hold her close and feel her heartbeat. Feel the rise and fall of her chest.    

Feel her.

She wanted to yell at her. Shout. Let out all the anger and frustration inside. Why couldn’t she stay safe? Why did she try to heal someone who was near death? Why did she keep going even when blood was pouring out of her body, staining the road and pushing her towards a place Scylla couldn't follow her to, couldn’t bring her back from, no matter how powerful she was in her chosen field. 

Scylla couldn’t manipulate death

Not like that.

Why couldn’t Raelle put them first? Put herself first? Scylla first?

She wanted to cry. To stop being the strong one for one second and have someone tell her it’s ok. That she will be ok. They will be ok. Live the life they talked about late at night under the blanket of the stars and moon.

She wanted her parents to hug her. Her mom to soothe away her fears. Her dad to chase away the monsters. 

She wanted to go to the beach. Sit and watch the boats. 

She wanted Raelle.

A squeak of shoes on the spotless floor announced the arrival of another visitor.

Scylla didn’t look over.

She didn’t have to.

She recognized the presence.

Neither said anything for a long minute.

“She healed a lot of people.” Willa spoke, finally, tone even, “Even when she was hurting.”

“She does that.” Scylla bit out. 

Willa sighed.

“Why are you here?” Scylla asked.

“She’s my daughter.”

Her body grew taut.

Willa drew closer.

“Stop.” Scylla snapped, “Do not do this to her. Do not act like you care about her only to walk away the moment she wakes up.” She saw red, “Where have you been? Where were you when she was crying? When she was wanting to get herself killed? Where were you when they sent her out there?”

Willa opened her mouth to reply, but Scylla wasn’t finished.

Oh, she was not finished.

It all burst out. All the hate and grief and devastation that burned inside ever since she could remember, that grew and grew as the years passed. Grew as her parents were murdered. Grew as she fell in love. Grew as the whole world seemed to want to make her and her girlfriend suffer. “Raelle is in this bed, and all you can do is say she is your daughter? No. Not today, Willa. You are not going to use her to assuage whatever guilt you feel or be a part of whatever plan you have. You are not going to use her anymore. I am not watching her get hurt by you again. Not anymore. Not after this.”

“I love her, too, Scylla.” Willa fiddled with the folded blanket in her hands. “You don’t understand everything.”

“Don’t I?” Scylla shot back. “I was there. I was the one you sent to manipulate her. To be used as a pawn in whatever game you played. I did that. I lied to her. I hurt her . For you. Because you’re too much of a coward to face your own family.” She sucked in a breath, “I wanted her to have her mom back. When she thought you were dead, I would have given anything for her to be able to see you one more time. I would do anything to see my mom again. Your death ruined Raelle. She wanted to die, did you know that? She was ready to get herself killed because of you. She still might.”

Scylla shook her head, “I fell in love with her. I love her more than I can say. I want her to be happy. I am going to protect her. If that means keeping you away from her, then so be it.”

“I’ve explained to you why I did what I did.” Willa stared at her. “My daughter…”

“Your daughter could have died! She did die!” The pain cut through her heart like jagged glass, “She died.” Her bottom lip trembled, “I will support her if she wants to talk to you. But, you can’t do this. You can’t go back and forth. Raelle loves with everything inside of her. She’s all in. You have to be the same, or I will stop you from breaking her heart.”    

They stared at each other. Neither blinking. Neither moving.

Finally, Willa held out the blanket. 

Scylla instantly recognized it.

It was Raelle’s. The blanket she first brought with her when she arrived for Basic. The well worn stitched pattern had offered her comfort and a sense of home and family during the night.

“Her grandma, Ed’s mother, made this for her when I first got pregnant. Wanted her to have something warm to protect her from the world. Let her know her family loved her.” Willa closed the distance to the bed, “She would sleep with it every night, no matter how hot it got in the summer.” She fingered the edges of it for a moment before unfolding the blanket. With ease borne from countless nights tucking her child in, she tenderly draped the blanket over the sleeping woman. She smoothed it out and patted it in place.

“I know you love my daughter. That Raelle loves you. If she’s anything like her father, that love will be the only thing she cares about. You will be the only thing she wants, and she will fight for you no matter what.” she faltered, “Until you have kids. Then, she’ll love them just as much.” She straightened, refusing to show any emotion on her face, but her eyes screamed, “I want her to be happy just as much as you, Scylla. I want to protect her. I never wanted her to be here. To be like this. Like me. If nothing else, believe that. She’s so much like her father. I wished every day she would turn out like him. Not give so much that...there was nothing left of her. To be hurt. So many times she got into fights at school because I married Ed. Because she was different. My mother died fighting. My sister died fighting. Raelle fought enough as a child. She shouldn’t have had to fight anymore. Not for the rest of her life. I...I wanted her to be normal. To...to wear those flannels she likes so much and not worry about if she’ll be alive tomorrow or if she’ll...she will have to save her best friend’s life. I failed at getting her away from all this. I failed.” 

She lifted her hand as if to reach out, touch Raelle, but she pulled back. “Please, take care of her. Raelle is stubborn. It takes a special kind of person to love us. Just ask Ed.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Scylla watched her go, brows furrowed. 

A slight shift and subtle groan caught her attention, and she swiftly turned back around.

The blonde’s closed eyes were pinched, lips thin.

“Raelle?”

Another meek whimper.

“Raelle?” Scylla hovered over her, “Raelle?”

Slowly. Ever so slowly, eyelashes fluttered.

Scylla could have wept when hazy greyish blue appeared.

She did weep.

A groggy grunt, “Scyl?”

“Hi, baby. Hi.”

“Wha..What’re ya doin’?” the drawl was long and low.

Goddess, Scylla had missed it.

“Watching the most gorgeous girl around sleep.” She gently squeezed her hand

“Tha’s weird.” Raelle’s eyes threatened to close again.

“Sexy weird.”

“Like us.”

“Yes, just like us”

“Hurts, Scyl.”

“I know. I know. You’re ok, though. You’re ok.”

“Can’t...can’ hear ya.”

Scylla touched her face, her neck, traced the line of her collarbone and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, “You ruptured an eardrum, babe.”

“Huh?”

Scylla chuckled at the confused look, “You’re ok. I love you.”

A tiny dopey grin, “Love you, too.”

“Rest, Rae. Then, we are going to talk about you staying out of trouble.”

“I’s my type.” she mumbled, “Dark hair ‘n trouble.”

Goddess.

“Scyl, ‘m late for third bell?”

“No, Rae, that’s the concussion.”

“Wha’?”

She cupped her cheek, thumb rubbing the thin white line of her scar, mindful, always mindful, of the bruises, “I love you. No matter what. You did good. Ok, Raelle? You did good.”

“Ok.” her eyes slid closed again.

She was asleep within seconds.

Finally letting herself crumble, Scylla hid her face in the crook of Raelle’s neck, letting her tears dampen the starched pillow.   

Chapter Text

The rain pattered gently against the glass of the window, tiny streaks and miniscule rivers dipping and weaving in various patterns as the cloudy sky rumbled softly. A light summer storm had descended upon Fort Salem. The nourishing waters fed into the soil, encouraging colorful flowers to bloom and bright green grass to grow. The pavement below was painted with dark splotches, and the brick and stone of the building proudly displayed cascading water droplets merging into pseudo waterfalls. Relaxing clouds slowly meandered through the grey sky. The sun, though not visible, still let its presence be felt in the warmth of the breeze that wafted through the branches and tickled the leaves. The same breeze that weaved under the slight opening of the window on the third floor of the converted old office building and filled the makeshift bedroom tucked away at the end of the hallway.

The room where the air was tense and emotions simmered just below the surface, volatile and thick.

“What did you want me to do, Scylla?” Raelle threw her hands in the air. She glared from her perch near the corner of the room, subtly leaning against the chair shoved up against the worn and chipped desk. “People were hurt. Tally and Abigail were hurt. I’m a Fixer. I fixed them!”

Scylla held her hands up, half calming, half ready to grab her girlfriend and shake some sense into her, “You were bleeding from your ears, Raelle. You were concussed. You couldn’t even hear from your left ear when you woke up.”

She still couldn’t.

“I could still help them. I did help them.”

“That’s not the point!” She grit her teeth, trying to take a calming breath. She fought to tamp down the anger and frustration building in her chest, bubbling like molten lava, “You could have died, Raelle.”

“I didn’t.”

“This time!” her voice rose.”You were injured. One of the worst. Other medics were on their way. Other medics were there!” 

“Not fast enough and not close enough.”

Scylla’s hands vibrated with pent up frustration...and fear. Hard eyes locked on Raelle, ”You asked what I want. What do I want? I admit it. I want my girlfriend to be alive. Novel concept, I know.”

“Tally wouldn’t be here if I didn’t link with her!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do!” Raelle roared. She started to move, but stopped when her entire body locked up in pain and the world spun. 

Noticing the grimace, Scylla dropped her hands, “Rae, look at you. How long did it take you to get released from medical? You still aren’t fully healed. Still. After being treated by Col. Wick.”

“I’m fine.”

“And I’m the Queen of England.”

“Welcome to Fort Salem, your majesty. Your room is a bit small for royalty.”

Scylla’s eyebrow rose. Raelle was being an ass. Typical. If she wanted to play that game, Scylla knew the moves well. Better than her. “Ok. You’re fine. Good. Let’s work on training.” 

“Scylla,”

“No, let’s do this.” Scylla nodded, silent barely suppressed anger filling her every step as she approached, “You’re fine. You need to train. Don’t want to fall behind in your classes. You know how Bellweather gets if you’re not top of your class, and we know how much of a top you are.”

Raelle’s eyes burned fiery blue.

“What should we do? Hand to hand? Seeds?” she blindly ripped open a drawer, hand rooting around as her eyes never left Raelle’s. “Fixing, since you like it so much?” she removed a small pocket knife, slamming the drawer closed and flicking the blade open. She drew it up to her neck, just like she’d seen Izadora do countless times before in demonstration.

“STOP!” 

The furniture shook, walls rattling as the desperate voice boomed, power radiating out in a wave of strength and terror. Raelle nearly tackled her to the ground. She batted at the knife, leg a half step behind the rest of her as it hitched and dragged.

“Why? You want to fix everyone else. Fix me.” her chin quivered, “Fix me, Raelle.”

The blonde pursed her lips, jaw working as she fought the words on the tip of her tongue, so many emotions filtering through her wide gaze it was impossible to pinpoint just one.  

“Fix us.” Scylla tossed the knife onto the desk. The corners of her mouth dipped sadly, “You still can’t even walk right. You can’t hear.” Her words dropped, a powerful whisper that was strong yet true, “You promised me.”

Raelle suddenly needed to move. To pace. To fidget. To let out the energy burning inside. The feelings burning inside. “I came back.”

“Practically in a body bag.”

“I didn’t set the bomb, Scylla. We are in the middle of a war, if you haven’t noticed.” she gestured.

“Oh, we are? Really? I forgot.” Scylla sniped “You may not have set the bomb, but you sure as hell chose to heal other people while you were bleeding out.”

“Tally would have died if I waited.” the internal bleeding had been so much, it was a wonder she survived at all. Colonel Wick said if they had waited till the medical team arrived, the window would have closed.

“And Abigail?”

“What?”

“Would Abigail have died if you didn’t link with her?”

“She’s my friend. Part of my Unit. I wasn’t going to…”

“To let her have a broken leg for a few hours?”

“I wasn’t going to let her down, too!” Raelle shouted.

Scylla’s mouth snapped shut.

“I fix things. That’s what I can do. It’s...it’s all I can do.” Raelle admitted.

“You are more than just a Fixer, Raelle.”

“Yeah? How? I was always going to be a combat medic.” Her hands waved wildly, “I can’t see like Tally or control things like Abigail. I don’t know...anything like you do. I’m not...I’m not some High Atlantic with a big name and fancy titles. I’m not going to become an officer. I’m a Collar from the Cession. I am going to be a combat medic and…”

“And get blown up in the field? Die young?” Scylla cut in, “That was a hot garbage plan back then and it still is now.”

“Scyl,”

“What are we even doing?” Scylla asked, eyes wide and wet, “If you are so determined to die, what are you even doing with me?”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Funny. I thought that’s what having a death wish meant.”

“I don’t…”

“...take on someone else’s injuries when you have enough trauma not even the Army’s top medical officer can fully heal you? You don’t collapse from taking on so much that you don’t even wake up for days? Huh, must be my other girlfriend. Sorry, I get confused easily. Must be from breathing in all the bleach while spending every day in the infirmary wondering if you’ll even wake up.” 

“I’m always going to take care of my Unit. I thought you understood that. Being necro, I guess you don’t. Or maybe it’s a Spree thing.”

Her teeth ached with the effort it took to let that go, “I understand, Raelle. You need to take care of yourself, too. Abigail and Tally would tell you the same thing, and you know it. They have told you the same thing. Everyone has told you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You haven’t been fine since you got here! And, I know you’re going through a lot. So much is happening...”

Raelle shook her head, pushing past her and limping toward the door. “I’m not doing this right now.”

Scylla scoffed, “Didn’t think you were a coward, Collar. Walking away from a fight. Running away when you have to actually face what is happening.”

 “You don’t get it.”

“Then make me understand!” Scylla cried out. 

Her next words sent a chill through the entire room.

“Do not walk away from, Raelle Collar. Not again.”

Raelle turned away from Scylla, unable to look any longer at the woman chained to the chair in the bleak damp basement. Unable to listen to her lies. Her pleas. Look into the eyes so full of tears, beseeching her to believe. To understand. To feel.

Unable to let the love harbored deep inside, trapped beneath miles and miles of anger, begin to infiltrate and tear down the guardrails of rage she had used to push it away.

“Don’t leave me here alone because you can’t handle what’s happening.”

Raelle froze.

Scylla stared at her back, at the glaring red lines on her shoulders indicating her rank in a military that was more than willing to toss her to the wolves and the tiny wrinkles in the uniform that proclaimed to the world she was a slave to conscription. “Look at me.”

Raelle didn’t.

“Raelle, please. Look at me .”

Raelle bit her lip, jaw working as she suppressed the emotions burning the back of her throat and making her hands shake. 

“Rae,”

Her eyes closed at the broken tattered plea. Shoulders slumping, head down, the anger melting away in the summer air, unceremoniously ripped away by the tears glistening in both their eyes, Raelle slowly spun on her heels.

Scylla took one step. Then another. She cautiously raised her hands, the tremble evident as her fingertips skipped along the air. They were held aloft, hovering just inches from Raelle’s arms. Wanting to touch her. Needing to hold her. 

Afraid to crack both of their hearts open and truly reveal what’s inside. What is inside her own heart and mind.

“Do you love me?”

Raelle’s eyes snapped open. “What?” She gasped, disbelief morphing her features into incredulity. “How...how can you ask that? Of course I love you. Of course I do.”

Scylla let her hands rest on Raelle’s elbows, “You, Raelle, are powerful. You have so much to give. There is so much you can do. You might not believe it, but I do. I know it.” She licked her lips, exhaling shakily as Raelle curved her palms around her biceps, thumb unconsciously rubbing soothingly against the sleeve of her shirt. “I love you.”

“Scyl,”

“You’re hurting me.” Scylla blurted out.

Raelle quickly tried to drop her hold and move back, “Scyl?”

Scylla tightened her grip, “Please, don’t.” Don’t move. Don’t leave. 

“I didn’t...I’m not…I don’t want to hurt you.”

Scylla bit her lip so hard it was a wonder she didn’t taste blood. 

“Scylla, what...what am I doing? Where? Did I…” Raelle searched her, eyes desperate for a sign of a bruise or a cut, “Let me fix it.”

“Kiss me.”

Raelle’s gaze jerked to Scylla’s, “What?”

Without waiting, Scylla released her arms only to cup Raelle’s face. She wordlessly pulled, catching smooth lips with her own, sad and hopeful. Begging, wishing, fighting to make Raelle understand. To feel. 

To give and take and be there .

Raelle kissed her back, mouth slanting and opening to allow Scylla inside, to taste the hunger, passion, and devotion in the touch. Her hands flew to Scylla’s hips, tugging until they were nestled against her own.

As Scylla slowly broke away, she rested her forehead against Raelle’s, breathing her in and committing to memory every inch she already knew by heart. Every heartbeat. Every unspoken thought. “You need to fix yourself.” She caressed her face, skimming over where purples and blues had only just disappeared, “Every time you hurt yourself, you hurt me.”

“I don’t mean to.”

“I know,” Scylla pressed closer.

Raelle searched for words, searched for something in that moment to make it better.

Sensing the struggle, Scylla kissed her again, “I know who I’m with. I know who you are.”

You tried to save him. That was your first instinct. That’s who you are.

“I’m here. I need you here, too.”

“I am.”

“Are you?” her body fit perfectly against the blonde’s, “You don’t sleep. You have nightmares. You won’t tell me about them. Not really.” The pad of her finger slid down, tracing the length of her throat before landing right above her heart. Right above where the scar would forever mar her tanned flesh. A reminder. An omen. A sign.

“You’re worth more than dying for someone else.” She flattened her palm over Raelle’s heart, “I want to be happy, Rae. I want this to be enough.”

“You are. It is.”

“Stay.”

Stay there. Stay with her. Stay alive.

“I want to be happy with you.” Scylla confessed.”You’re difficult and stubborn and such an idiot sometimes. But, I like you.”

“I like you, too.”

“I’m not used to staying. But, I’m staying for you. Stay with me, too. We can...we can be happy again. I never thought I could be until I met you. You showed me I can feel something other than..pain. Anger. Fear. Don’t...don’t take that away from me. Please. Don’t...let yourself only feel those things, too.”

I like you, ok. I have feelings for you, and they're not something I'm used to having. Not something I'm used to dealing with. I'm a dodger, which means no attachments because things go away. We go away. I haven't learned to get past this, but I'm trying.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah, Scyl. Ok.”

“I…” 

Squeezing her waist, Raelle tilted her head, capturing Scylla’s bottom lip and sucking lightly before kissing away the quiver of emotion and whatever else she was going to say. She tasted the love, the fear, the tears long since cried. Agile fingers slipped under the edge of Scylla’s shirt, smoothing along the softness of her belly. They slid around, massaging the dip of her back and teasing the edge of her jeans.

Scylla dug her blunt nails into the black cotton of Raelle’s shirt, firmly cupping her jaw with her other hand and throwing herself into the kiss. Throwing herself into Raelle. Into them. 

Eyes closed, Raelle pulled back, barely letting her mouth leave the lips she would gladly kiss for eternity. She could feel the wanton smile pull at her lover’s cheeks. She took in the moment, the feel of Scylla so close, the hot breath against her face, the hands asking for more. Asking for everything. 

Asking for all of her.

Raelle hooked her fingers under her own shirt, tugging it up. Scylla’s hands joined hers, removing the suddenly offensive garment and tossing it aside to reveal sinewy arms and a flat stomach. Scylla ran her nails down the powerful abdomen, muscles built from endless days of training clenching as she explored. Traced lines long since memorized but that always felt new. 

Raelle’s hips shifted against Scylla’s, her jagged breaths shameless as they mixed with the brunette’s. She kissed her cheek, her jaw, nibbled a path to the curve of her neck as hot frantic hands fiddled with the buckle of her belt.

Scylla pressed her mouth to Raelle’s ear, “Let me show you how powerful you are.” She nipped gently, “How much you’re worth.” A light kiss, “How much I love you.”

Raelle paused, taking in her words.

The air stilled. Both breathing in the person in their arms, in their souls.

The rain pattered against the glass.

A low rumble of thunder gumbled off in the distance. 

Letting everything inside of her, everything around her, disappear except for the woman offering her the universe, Raelle succumbed to the moment, gave in to the one person who could find her in the darkness, offer a small light in the vast gloom. She buried her face in the side of Scylla’s neck, sucking and biting the tender flesh.

Scylla’s fingers scrambled with the belt, flinging it loose and tripping over the button and zipper of the uniform trousers. She dipped her head, pressing hot open mouth kisses along Raelle’s exposed shoulder. Deft hands pushed away the trousers and boyshorts, pulling her girl along as Raelle stumbled wherever she led. 

Scylla carefully pushed Raelle down, dropping to her knees as Raelle landed on the bed. She quickly got rid of her boots and socks, the rest of the other girl’s clothes following. Peering up, she coyly bit her lip at the sight of crystal clear blue. 

Twin blue orbs that trusted her.

Loved her.

Spoke of forever and always.

With a smirk, she stood and undressed, feeling the appreciative eyes on her, soaking in every move, every inch of revealed skin.

As her bra fell away, she slowly, deliberately, crawled up the length of Raelle’s body, shivering as their bodies slotted together perfectly. Each finding the one spot they would always be welcome, always fit. 

Scylla peppered the lightest of kisses across Raelle’s stomach, up through the valley of her breasts, and across the expanse of her chest. She paid special attention to the scar over her heart, lavishing it with a wet tongue and unspoken adoration.

“Scyl,” Raelle whimpered, fingers tangling in the long hair she would play with late at night as they fell asleep to the gentle hum of Fort Salem.

“Shh,” Scylla scraped her teeth along her collarbone.

“Love you.” Raelle arched into her. “I love you.”

Scylla charted a path along the crook of her neck, landing at her ear, the ear Raelle refused to admit wasn’t right. “I am always going to love you. Even if you stop loving me. You are worth everything.”

Raelle blinked, brow furrowing as she turned her head.

Scylla kissed away the forming frown, “I love you.”

Raelle touched her cheek, face turning solemn, “I’m sorry.”

“Rae,”

“I’m sorry.” she spoke more firmly. Her lashes fluttered as she gathered the words, “Let me love you. Let me fight for you. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I want to come home.”

So, if she loves you as much as you love her, and you believe that, believe in her, then it’s ok to be scared. But, don’t let that fear make you lose something special. You work at it. You fight for it every day. You fight for her and let her fight for you. If it’s worth it, if she’s worth it, you do what I know you can and you work your ass off at loving her.

“I want to do everything because of you.”

Scylla stared at her, taking in the strength of the words, the sureness. 

They were an oath.

“Always.”

As their lips met, the rain slowed, and the sun peeked out from behind the dreary darkness of the storm.

The next morning, Scylla woke up slowly, stretching out her tired muscles and letting out a tiny yawn. She frowned when she realized a familiar body was no longer in her arms. No gentle snores or quiet murmurings as her girlfriend let herself be cradled in the land of dreams and slumber. 

Blinking her eyes open fully, she rolled over, looking for the watch she left on the small bedside table to see what time it was. 

Had Raelle gone to class? Back to the infirmary for a check-up? To see Abigail?

Was it even late enough for classes to have started?

How had Raelle left without waking her?

She didn't spot the rumpled uniform they'd left on the floor before falling asleep, curled into each other. Raelle's boots were gone, too.

Pushing her tangled hair out of her face and behind an ear, Scylla reached for the watch.

Her hand stilled.

A small plate with two pieces of perfectly cooked toast, a smear of jam visible, and a mug of still steaming coffee sat next to the tiny timepiece. 

Chapter Text

Thick yet well manicured grass crunched under Raelle’s boots, the sweet smell of fresh rain and the tickle of humidity lingering in the air after last week’s storm. The young woman felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth as she thought about the morning after the cleansing water had drifted away to leave a gorgeous rainbow and comforting rays of yellows, pinks, and oranges dancing merrily across the horizon.

Raelle woke slowly. Peacefully. An arm was slung low across her hips, fingers lazily, sleepily, tracing unintelligible patterns and shapes across her stomach. 

She couldn't remember the last time she felt so...ok.

A time when she didn’t feel so exhausted her body cried out to just stop and fall to her knees instead of take one more step, think one more thought, feel one more feeling.

Breathe one more breath.

That was gone

Instead, she felt...rested.

Hand drifting down to cover the marble hued one on her belly, she brushed her thumb over the unblemished skin. Carefully, she rolled over onto her back.

Scylla’s slumbering visage glowed in the early morning light. Unworried, her mind far away from the horrors and never-ending pain of the world, her face was free of lines and doubt. The face that Raelle would travel through the deepest darkest of hells to see one last time, the features that never failed to make her believe in the promises she made to fight for one more smile on those pale pink lips. Sleek eyebrows, slender nose, and elegant jaw, she reminded Raelle of the storybook princesses her parents used to read about to her before figuring out she would much rather hear about pirates and rousing adventures.

She was the most beautiful thing Raelle had ever seen.

Would ever see.

She knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Scylla let out a small mumble, a string of syllables and vowels that made no sense but had her scooting closer to the blonde.

How could someone so stunning be so adorable?

Grinning to herself, Raelle smoothed her hand across Scylla’s temple, gently tucking a few locks of tangled hair behind a cute ear. 

She loved her.

Goddess, did she love her.

Images from the day before flashed in her mind. Being released from the infirmary. Seeing Tally, awake and with Abigail, grateful but concerned, always concerned about her friend. The guilt and doubt that ate at Raelle’s insides, guilt that she hadn’t done enough because Tally still nearly died. Fear. Worry. Shame that she wasn’t able to be the one to heal her. Scylla appearing, anguished happiness hinted at in her sparkling blue eyes as she led Raelle back to her room. The argument. Scylla’s broken pleas. The pain on her face. Pain caused by Raelle. Caused by who they were. Who they had to be.

Dipping her head, Raelle pressed a tender kiss to Scylla’s forehead, holding it there and inhaling the presence that calmed the hurricane inside of her.

“I love you.”

Blinking out of her thoughts, Raelle found herself in front of the Necro building. The smooth stone was cast in shadows, even with the brilliant celestial star reigning free of clouds in its heavenly domain.

Hesitating slightly at the entrance, she peered down into the cavernous depths. 

Raelle needed to find Scylla. Anacostia was acting like she was crazy. Like Raelle didn’t know, unquestionably believed with every fiber of her being, that Scylla was alive and needed help. 

No one would tell her anything. Not Quartermaine. Not her Unit. No one cared that Scylla disappeared off the face of the damn planet. 

She was going to find her.

Hand unconsciously gripping the strap of the bag slung over her shoulder, Raelle slipped through the entrance and slowly descended the stone steps.

The air was cold, crisp, far from the sticky heat saturated atmosphere outside. It felt more like a brisk autumn day. A day meant for mugs of hot cider and watching children jump into piles of leaves. 

Weather for walking in a park.

They broke apart slowly. Their breaths mingled as Scylla spoke tenderly, “I am in this with you. We’re going to figure it out together, ok? Whoever you are. Whoever you were. No matter what happens. No matter what anyone else thinks. I’m with you.”

Raelle’s grip on her hand tightened.

“No matter what happens. No matter where we are,” Scylla continued, “I am in love with you. I am the woman who takes walks in the park with you. I’m the woman who holds your hand, even when it’s sweaty and dirty. I’m the woman who will take care of you when you have a hard day and makes sure you don’t get yourself killed. I’m the woman who dreams of a future with you.” She held her close, “I’m not afraid. I know who I want. What I want. I know who I am with you.” She brought their joined hands to her lips, “I am so so sorry I hurt you. I never want to hurt you. I just want you. We can figure everything else out. Together.” She dropped their hands to her chest, holding it there between them. “I just want to be by your side.”

Raelle cupped her cheek, “You go where I go.”

Her fingertips ran along the wall as she marched down the last few steps. Stopping at the base of the stairwell,she peered around. It was empty, not a soul in sight. She didn’t hear the squeak of a boot or the glimmer of a medal. 

Brow furrowing, she turned and picked her way down the long hallway. Doors lined the dim basement, only faded artificial light interacting with the shadows. She strolled past each door, searching for one to be open, for someone to talk to, to ask why she was summoned there.

Searching for Sergeant Izadora  L'Amara.

“Collar.”

Raelle looked up from where she was shoving her textbook into her bag. The crinkly plastic of wrapper from the energy bar Scylla forced her to take because she knew Raelle would need a snack as she darted from class to class tickled her hand. 

One of the training officers stood near the doorway, off to the side so as to let the students from the afternoon’s An Introduction to Seeds and Surgeries course exit. Raelle didn’t recognize her, the officer wasn’t one of those assigned to the fixer trainings, but she stood, looping the bag over her shoulder and turned to face her.

A brief flash of terror hit her. Her jaw locked.

Was it her Unit?

Tally?

Abigail?

Was it...Scylla?

The officer spoke evenly, “You are to report to Sergeant  L'Amara's office at 1600.”

Izadora? The edges of Raelle’s eyes pinched in confusion, “Why am I…”

The officer shot her a look, “That’s an order from your Commanding Officer, Private.”

“Private, First Class.” Raelle muttered. She glanced at the clock on the wall.

She had ten minutes to get to the Necro building.

Great.

Continuing to walk, Raelle reached out and cautiously opened a door. 

It was empty.

Just a few standard desks and chairs. A whiteboard on one wall next to a lectern.

The next room revealed itself to be the same.

Getting a bit annoyed and anxious, Raelle rubbed her hands together. She pressed the pad of her thumb along the contours of her left palm, tracing the invisible S that had been there that morning as her first lecture of the day began. If she concentrated, she could still feel the raised roughened skin, the spark of love that ignited inside as their connection came alive.

Silently let her girlfriend’s support sink in and steady her

That’s when she felt it.

The call.

The air in the building hummed with an almost imperceptible energy. Distinct. Different from the magic that swirled around the training grounds and combat simulation facilities. It was darker. Not necessarily bad, but spoke more of the earth than the sky. Older. Somehow wiser. Intune with the ground below and the depths of the past.The depths of the soul. Of life itself. And beyond.

Breathing in the strangely comforting scent of dirt and mushrooms, Raelle turned to face an unopened door.

She felt the draw.

The way it tugged at her bones. Her spirit.

The mycelium.

She knew it was there. Just behind that door. Beyond that trifle of a barrier.

“Private, First Class Collar.” Izadora’s quiet voice echoed off the walls as Raelle reached out to open the door. “Or, should I say Corporal Collar?”

Raelle whipped her hand back, hairsbreadth from turning the handle. 

Wait.

She frowned in confusion and looked over her shoulder.

Izadora stared at her, face blank but the hint of an amused smile flickering in her eyes, “You didn’t touch anything, did you?”

“No,” Raelle faced her, hands dropping to her sides as she straightened her posture.

“Good,” Izadora nodded. She began to walk down the hall, “It’s better if we talk before you potentially discover a way to link yourself with the otherworld. Again.”

Was that...sarcasm? “Sergeant...ma’am.”

“Yes, Corporal?”

They reached her office. She ushered Raelle in, closing the door behind the confused girl and moving toward the small drink station hidden in the corner.

Raelle stood near a chair, hand once again thumbing the unseen S, “I’m not a corporal.” She was still the only private in her Unit. Something Abigail used to her advantage a hell of a lot more than she should have.

“As of this morning, you were promoted. Congratulations, Raelle.” Izadora fiddled with the teapot, pouring out two cups. “Long overdue, from my understanding.” She walked over and held out a mug to Raelle.

“Thanks,” she took the mug, hands wrapping around the warmth.

“Please, have a seat.” Izadora gestured, taking her own on the other side of the desk.

Pursing her lips, Raelle let her body drop into the chair, shuffling her bag off to the side, “I’m sorry but...why am I here?”

Izadora took a sip of her tea before setting it down on her desk, making sure to not have the mug touch the stacks of papers and files littering the surface, “You have talent, Raelle. Power. You are well ahead in your classes even though you’ve been deployed multiple times.”

Her gaze dipped down to the mug cradled in her lap. 

“I am starting a project. Research into certain links and connections.”

Raelle bit her lip, “Is this about the witchbomb?” She shook her head, “I already told all of you everything I know. Multiple times.”

That had been an intense week. Alder didn’t let up, sending in officer after officer to question Raelle and Abigail, even questioning them herself. Wanting to know everything. Not believing when they said they didn’t know. So singularly focused on discovering what the explosion was, it took General Bellweather and Anacostia teaming up with Colonel Wick to get the top brass to leave the two girls alone long enough for them to actually heal.

“While General Alder wants to harness that power for a weapon that could turn the tide of any war, “ Izadora acknowledged, “that is not my goal.”

“What?”

Izadora sighed and leaned forward, “You are a very powerful witch, and that was before you interacted with the mycelium. I remember when you put an entire class to sleep without even performing the seed.” Her eyes laughed with mirth, “Quite the accomplishment. From my understanding, also not the last time I will reprimand you for not listening to instruction yet producing excellent results.”

Raelle was not following.

“For someone so young, so inexperienced, you have performed above many ranked far higher than you. You have a natural talent, Raelle. Something unique. The fact you have a connection with the mycelium is only something to be viewed as an...enhancement. Something to be understood. A chance to improve some of our nonlethal capabilities and knowledge.”

“You don’t want to build a bomb.”

“Contrary to believe, not all of us are solely focused on how much power we can wield in combat and use to gain a foothold in global influence.” Izadora replied, “You are a fixer, Raelle. A healer. The balance between your capabilities and the work necros do is vital. I believe we can discover ways to better utilize both of our branch’s capabilities as well as utilizing your link with the mycelium to form a better knowledge base from which to strengthen how we view and work with life and death. The world around us.”

Life becomes death which becomes life again.

Raelle sat back, trying to take it all in. “You want me to work with Necro?”

A nod, “You have been reassigned to me until further notice. You will continue your coursework in War College, but you will no longer be deployed. As of this morning, I am your commanding officer.”

Her eyes widened, “What? But..what about my Unit? I can’t…”

Izadora calmly interrupted, “Your entire Unit has been reassigned to Intelligence. From my understanding, Bellwether and Craven will work directly with General Bellweather. Most likely filing paperwork and running errands until you all graduate.”

Raelle fiddled with the ring on her pointer finger, “I’m no longer going to be deployed? None of us?”

“No, Raelle. Not until you graduate, at least. Then, it is always a possibility.” 

No more deployments.

Abigail and Tally wouldn’t see combat.

She wouldn’t see combat.

Raelle stopped fidgeting, “Why are you doing this?” She licked her lips, “Is this because of Scylla?”

Izadora took her in, “While Ms. Ramshorn was an excellent student and is a more than a capable partner during this joining of forces, I did this because of you, Raelle.”

Raelle sniffed and rubbed and swiped at her nose, teeth chewing on her bottom lip, “I don’t...know if I’m who you think I am.”

“You are.” was firmly spoken. “Make no mistake. I have seen your accomplishments throughout Basic and now War College. It was only a matter of time before I snatched you away from Anacostia. Who, might I add, did not let you go easily.” She smirked, “Hearing Scylla talk about how great you are was merely confirmation of my beliefs.”

Raelle set the mug on the desk, absently rubbing at her left ear.

The ear she still couldn’t hear out of.

The nurse handed over the pair of earphones, gesturing for Raelle to put them on. 

“You’ll hear a series of beeps. Raise your hand when you hear it.” she instructed.

Raelle put the giant headphones on, fighting to calm her racing heart.

She closed her eyes and, as the nurse turned her back, quickly touched the left earphone, tracing a quick pattern she had spotted in one of Scylla’s books.

As the nurse turned back and started the test, every beep sounded in the right ear.

“If this is because I’ve been hurt or...I’ve had...moments, I can still fight. I can still be a fixer.”

“Raelle, you are a gifted fixer. I doubt anyone would say you are not an asset out in the field. While your injuries have been...severe, according to your record and file, there is nothing indicating you are not fit for deployment.”

“I don’t want to be separated from my unit.” 

“You won’t be. You will all still take your courses and be able to see each other.” Izadora assured her, “They will simply perform duties for Petra while you work with me.”

“I’m...I’m not necro. I don’t understand any of this stuff.”

“You don’t have to, though I doubt you have spent this long with Scylla and not learned anything.” 

Death is more complicated than people think. It’s not so cut and dry.

Izadora smiled, “I want you because you are a fixer. I want your perspective. Your talent. Your views and knowledge.”

Raelle looked down at her hands.

An S was carved into her palm

Breathing in deeply, she lifted her eyes, “I look forward to working for you, ma’am.”

Izadora smiled with a nod, “Good. Now...are you more of a black or herbal tea drinker?” Her smile grew, “Also, please don’t touch anything.”

“Did you touch that?”

“It was one time!”

“Raelle, come here. What do you see?” Izadora stepped back and gestured at the microscope.

Ralle peeked up from the sample she was carefully studying. She walked over, stepping into the space Izadora vacated. She paused before looking through the lens, “I can feel it.”

“Feel what?”

“It. Whatever’s under there. I can feel it.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Death.”

Raelle slouched in the chair, mug cradled in her trembling hands as she stared off into the distance, “I...I can’t stop it, sometimes. It just...it hits me and all I can see is fire. I smell smoke everywhere. It gets so hot.”

Izadora sat quietly, listening.

Raelle’s mouth quivered as she refused to look at the officer, “I don’t...it gets so loud and hot and it won’t stop.” Her chest shook, “It’s stupid, I know.” She ran the back of her hand across her face. “I try counting. I try ignoring it. It keeps happening. Someone lit the fireplace and I freaked out. I almost hit Scylla.”

Goddess, she almost hit the woman she loved.

If Abigail had not been there to hold her down. If Scylla hadn’t had quick reflexes and ducked out of the way. If Tally hadn’t pulled Scylla back. 

“Raelle, your emotions are strong. You experienced terrible things. Some things...you can work to manage, but they will always be there.”

“I don’t want to be like this.” she sniffled, “I could have hurt her. I do hurt her. I know I do.”

“You cannot blame yourself for what’s happened to you. You can only focus on working with it. Accepting it. Controlling it.”

“No, no. You don’t understand. I...I see things, and it’s like I’m back there. I can’t think.”

Izadora slowly reached out, touching her arm, “You have to stop blaming yourself. We can work on ways for you to recognize when you may be about to experience one of these moments, but you have to forgive yourself first. You have to accept this is a part of you, just like your magic or the fact you love Scylla.”

Raelle was barely able to swallow past the burning lump forming in her throat.

“I always believe truth is the best course to take.” Izadora quirked an understanding smile, “You will be ok. It may take time, but you will be ok.”

Raelle’s chin shook as her tenuous hold began to break down, “It won’t stop.”

Izadora moved around her desk, crouching by the young woman’s side.

“I’m so scared, and I try, and it keeps happening, and…”

Izadora put a comforting hand on her knee as the first tears fell.

“I swear, Iz, she was so beautiful I almost ran into a wall.” Raelle plucked the stack of memos and reports from her bag and set them on her CO’s desk, “It was not fair, and Scylla plays dirty.” Her voice lowered to a grumble, “I wasn’t even drunk.”

“Good, because alcohol isn’t good for helping with your episodes. Not to mention it is prohibited for enlisted on Base.” Izadora didn’t look up from the memo she was reading, “You completed your homework?”

“Yes, but there are a lot of other ways she could have gotten me to study. That was just...uncalled for.”

“You also aced your exam.” she confirmed.

“Yes, yes, Scylla is amazing and helped me get an A. That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“She’s a damn tease and no one cares!”

Izadora signed the document, “I’ll be sure to bring it up with General Alder that the Spree are teasing her soldiers and therefore we should break the accord between us and face the Camarilla alone.”

“Are all necros this sassy?” 

“Scylla is with my mother. Somewhere down state. I’m not sure where.”

Izadora poured more tea.

Raelle took the mug gratefully from her, “I just...I miss her. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Nightmares?”

A nod, “She helps with that. I don’t have them as much if she’s there. If I can hear her breathing, it helps. And now, she’s off with my mother and…”

“And you’re worried about her.”

A nod.

“And, you’re worried about your mother, too.”

She froze.

“We can’t help who we care about, who we love.” Izadora dunked her tea bag, “We have to accept it just like we accept what has happened to us in the past.”

Raelle busied herself cleaning up the small workstation. She felt a presence to her left and lifted her head to meet Izadora’s eyes. She rubbed at her ear, subtly touching the tiny spot where the patch, much like salva, had sunk into her skin.

The patch her girlfriend pressed there every day as Raelle readied to leave for her morning class.

The patch Scylla helped Raelle create.

The patch that allowed her to hear.

Raelle swung the jacket up off the back of the chair, shoving one arm in a sleeve before tugging it around and slotting her other arm in. She smirked as Scylla stood from the bed, sheets falling away and smooth legs flexing where the pajama shorts ended. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re late.” Scylla snatched the small box from the drawer in the bedside table, sliding open the lid. 

“Everyone told me you were a bad influence.”

Scylla rolled her eyes and plucked out a small opaque circular patch. She slipped up to her girlfriend, chastely kissing her before cupping her cheek. Raelle leaned into the touch, angling her head so Scylla could press the patch to the skin just behind her ear. It quickly dissolved as she brushed a kiss to the shell. Her hand smoothed down the awkward collar of the soldier’s jacket as she whispered directly into her ear, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”  

Raelle sat in front of the opaque wall, staring into the white void that swirled and shifted under her gaze.

Beckoned her.

Called to her.

“What is it?” Izadora asked from behind her.

Raelle didn’t look away from the mycelium, her eyes turned a deep silver threaded blue.

As summer turned to fall, the temperatures cooled and the days grew shorter. Leaves changed colors and slowly, lazily, fell from their branches, coloring the walkways and paths with nature’s beauty.

Miles away from Fort Salem, in a building hidden from view, the Camarilla plotted their next attack.

In a war room on the other side of the world, protected beneath layers of intricate chants and spells, a general contemplated a new war.

Chapter Text

The bus swayed gently, giant tires rumbling down the highway at a steady pace. The towering New England forests and rolling hills had given way to endless plains and trickling streams. Scylla breathed in the warm air filtering in through the cracked window, so different from the crisp cold sky they left behind at Fort Salem. As the miles grew, the weight of the anxiety, exhaustion, and fear that normally lived in her heart and mind was replaced with an unusual foreign lightness. It was like the first breath of air after drowning in a raging sea. The feeling of freedom after the final day of school. The awakening of the earth after a long winter with the first hint of sun and bloom of a single flower. 

If she closed her eyes and dreamed hard enough, she could almost picture this as her life. Her future. Rambling down the road with no cares in the world. No war. No fighting. No duties she never chose but were thrust upon her. 

No more death and destruction.

No more loss.

No more pain.

A simple easy life. One filled with wide open roads and endless clear blue skies.

A tiny snore snuffled against her shoulder. Scylla glanced down to see a blonde head pillowed there, body curled into her side. 

Raelle had fallen asleep somewhere back in Virginia. Her eyelashes fluttered, and against her mutterings that she was not tired and could Scylla stop looking so pretty for five seconds because she needed to tell her about how Izadora slit her throat for a demonstration and she was not prepared for that, she nodded off. 

Raelle let out a quiet whimper, nuzzling into her chest. Scylla beamed and dipped her head, pressing a soft kiss to blonde braids as she tucked the small woman further into her side. It amazed her how such a short girl could possess such...fire and fury. 

She was almost the shortest soldier in her class, yet Raelle would fight till her last breath.

It may be a scrappy no holds bar brawl, but she wouldn't back down from a challenge. 

The nearly six foot tall cadet who got caught gossiping about Scylla being untrustworthy traitor trash found that out the hard way.

Burying her nose in Raelle’s hair, Scylla let her eyes drift close, the lull of the bus soothing her into memories of how they got to be there.

Scylla giggled, arms stretching up above her head as Raelle hovered above her.

“‘Morn’n” Raelle drawled, sleepy eyes and a content smile reflecting in the early rays of the sunrise.

Scylla bent up, pressed one, two, three quick kisses to a pliant mouth before falling back to the pillow. “Good morning, baby.” she let her hands drift back down, running up Raelle’s arms and over her back. 

Legs tangled together, Raelle shifted her hips, earning a smirk, “I don’t have class today.” She brushed her lips over Scylla’s forehead, to her cheek, her nose, “Nothing to do at all.”

“Nothing?” Scylla dug her fingernails into her back, urging her closer. 

A booming knock rocked the closed door.

“Shit.” Raelle nearly fell over at the unexpected sound. 

Scylla held her in place. Was Raelle expecting someone at...5 am?

Another firm knock.

“COLLAR!” Anacostia’s stern voice echoed through the door, “You have thirty seconds to open this door.”

“Shit.” Raelle rolled off the bed, landing with an awkward smack on the floor. Scylla pulled the sheets up, even though she was fully dressed, and watched as her girl stumbled to the door.

Raelle opened it, coming face to face with her former drill sergeant, “Anacostia?”

Was something wrong? Were there new orders?

Anacostia pushed past her, “Ramshorn, I’ve been looking for you. Should’ve known you’d be in Collar’s room.”

Scylla’s eyebrow rose, “You were looking for me?” She smirked, “And you didn’t come here first?”

Anacostia didn’t smile, “Get up. You have two minutes to get dressed and meet me downstairs.”

“Anacostia,” Raelle began, but the older woman held up a hand. 

“Why am I going anywhere besides my girlfriend’s warm snuggly bed?” Scylla asked.

“We’re going for a jog. You now have one minute forty-five seconds.”

Scylla’s face said it all, “Does it look like I jog?”

“She really doesn’t.” Raelle muttered.

“One minute thirty seconds.”

“Excuse me, I forgot. When did I start listening to you? Just want to know when I rejoined the army, was assigned to a combat unit, and fell under your command. Was it before or after my trip to the basement?”

“You have one minute. Don’t make me wait.” Anacostia turned and walked out the door.

Raelle blinked, “What the hell was that?”

Scylla sighed and threw her legs over the side of the bed, “Guess I’m going for a run.” She stood up, “I’m wearing your shoes...and clothes.”

“Not how I pictured you wearing my stuff.” Raelle pouted. “I wanted breakfast. In bed.”

“Sex would have been nice, too.”

“Who said breakfast was food?”

The bus hit a pothole, causing it to roughly swerve for a second. Scylla’s eyes snapped open, and she held Raelle tightly. 

The girl adjusted sleepily in her seat, curling into a tight ball and digging her nose into Scylla’s shoulder. 

Anacostia jogged lightly, feet barely hitting the ground before launching into the next step. 

Scylla abley kept up, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on her skin like dew on the grass.

They turned the bend, bypassing Scylla’s old barracks and continuing on.

“Is there a point to this run, or did Izadora skip out on you and you needed another necro to fill her place?” Scylla panted.

Anacostia quickened her pace.

Damn it.

Scylla dug in her heels, catching up. 

“Combat is a grueling assignment. I’ve trained many cadets. Taught them how to defend themselves. The correct seeds to use and when to use them. How to wield a scourge. How to be physically fit to withstand constant stress and movement.” She gave a pointed look at that last sentence.

Scylla huffed, “You teach teenagers how to hopefully not die within the first few minutes of deployment. Kudos.”

Anacostia slowed down, coming to a stop near a tree.

Scylla pretended not to recognize the spot.

The younger girl pulled up, hands falling to her knees as she caught her breath.

“Collar is a mess.” Anacostia got straight to the point. “She has been since the day she stepped off that bus and didn’t know her left from her right. Since then, she has proven herself to be more than any of us thought she could be, myself included.”

“Raelle is special.”

“She has seen combat. Experienced...the fight more than most others have. In different ways.” She stared at Scylla, “She needs support, and you are giving her that.”

“I love her.”

Anacostia nodded, “I know.” She bounced on the balls of her feet, “Get something other than Collar’s training uniform. We’re jogging every morning. 5 am. Don’t be late.”

The bus pulled to a stop, and Scylla looked out the window. They were at a redlight. The big cities and quaint photogenic country towns they’d driven through were gone. A gaggle of ramshackle houses and a store, paint peeling and window cracked, were covered with a layer of dirt along their path. A beat up old car, held together with duct tape and hope, idled next to them.

The Cession.

Scylla, still damp from her shower and really wanting a glass of water or ten, spotted Raelle at the mess hall table, Abigail and Tally across from her. They were speaking in frantic yet hushed tones. Tally was nodding her head vigorously. She made her way over, mouth quirking when Raelle spotted her and quickly stood up. 

“Hi,” Scylla greeted, leaning in for a kiss.

“Hey,” Raelle returned the greeting before pulling out her chair. 

Scylla’s eyebrow quirked at the gesture and she sat down, “Hello ladies.”

“Necro.” “Hi, Scylla.”

Tally blatantly elbowed Abigail in the ribs as Raelle plopped down and resumed fidgeting with her tea mug, fiddling with the handle and rotating it back and forth. “We need to go. Petra wants us to deliver some memos.”

Abigail rolled her eyes but stood up, “See you around, shitbird. Necro.”

“Bye.” Scylla sat back in amusement at the obvious quick exit. Tally was not subtle at all with her bright eyes and hand waving. 

“Want to tell me what that was about, or should I pretend to not have seen Tally giving you a thumbs up?”

Raelle bit her lip. With one final spin of the cup, she blurted, “We got leave.”

Scylla frowned.

“Two weeks leave. For Thanksgiving. Abigail invited us to visit her house in Annapolis. Not sure if it's her summer or winter place...especially since it’s fall. Do you summer or winter in fall?”

“Oh,” she tried to sound chipper, “have fun. Send me a postcard.”

This was going to be a miserable two weeks.

But, she couldn’t be unhappy. Not when Raelle needed this. A moment away from training and fighting and the threat of deployment no matter what Izadora said. 

Izadora may work to keep Raelle out of the front lines.

But, she wasn’t the general.

The idea of Raelle getting a moment’s peace, though, was not something Scylla could say no to. 

Raelle deserved peace.

“I’m not going.” Raelle took a moment. Then, “To Abigail’s. I’m going home. To the Cession. I haven’t seen Pop since graduation and…”

“It’d be good for you to visit him.” Scylla concluded.

Raelle nodded.

“I’m sure he’ll like that.”

“Yeah, he can't wait. I called him earlier.” Raelle twisted in her seat, tenderly grasping Scylla’s hand and cupping it between her own, “Will you come with me?”

Her breath caught.

“To the Cession?”

“Home. Come home with me.”

They hit another pothole, this one jostling the bus so hard Raelle startled, head whipping up and nearly flying into the window “Wha’?”

Scylla rubbed her shoulder, “Hey,”

Raelle squinted, “Scyl?” She rubbed her eyes and peered out the window, “Oh.”

Scylla giggled, “Sleep well?”

“Always when I’m with you.” which was the truth. Mostly. The nightmares were not anywhere near as bad when she was close by. “We’re almost there.”

The nights Scylla was gone, neither of them able to fall asleep in each other’s arms, found Raelle up till the crack of dawn, alternating between long walks around the Fort Salem grounds and attempts at Izadora’s suggested meditation techniques. Night patrols knew when Corp. Collar was having a bad night. 

Scylla nodded, the two of them quieting as the bus traveled the last few miles down the gravelly hole riddled trail, more rock than pavement. They both looked out the window, watching the houses grow more rundown and dilapidated, the grass growing high and weeds overtaking entire plots of land. 

Feeling Raelle tense, Scylla rested her chin on her shoulder, “Is your dad picking us up?”

“Yeah,” Raelle relaxed a fraction, “he supposedly got the truck working.”

“It wasn’t before?”

“It’s supposedly been working since I was five. It also has been parked in our driveway and hasn’t moved from it’s spot since I was five.”

“Isn’t your dad a mechanic?”

“For other people. He has a list of things he’s going to get done around the house. I think teaching me how to tie my shoes is still on there.”

“Is that why you’re always tripping over your feet?”

“One. Time.”

“Uh huh.” she pecked her cheek, “It’s cute.”

“You necros are so mean. Is it part of Necro training? Sass your Fixer 101?”

“It's a second year course, actually.”

“I’m sure you excelled at it.”

She nipped her earlobe, “Almost as well as ‘Kiss your Fixer.’”

“Kissing a lot of Fixers, are you?”

“All the time. Can’t stop.” She kissed her temple, “Especially this one fixer. Cute. Blonde. A rebel.”

“I’ll let Brady know you’re thinking about her.”

Scylla pinched her side as the bus pulled off the road and groaned to a halt.

“Here we are. Home sweet Cesion.” Raelle shifted out of Scylla’s arms. 

They both stood up, grabbing their bags before shuffling off the bus.

Scylla looked around as her feet hit the ground, Raelle’s hand in hers. 

It was dusty. Yellows, browns, and reds blending together in the evening heat, a visible haze descending upon them as the sun set. There was a beat up old bench and a faded boarded up building surrounded by knee high golden grass and splotches of mud.

That was it for the bus station.

“Pop!”

Scylla turned to see Raelle drop her bag and let go of her hand before jogging over to a weathered smiling man.

“Hey kiddo!” the two embraced, the man’s eyes closing as he basked in his daughter being back. After a moment, he let go, holding her at arms length and giving her a once over, “They treatin’ ya alright up there? Are these muscles? Ya workin’ out?”

“About as much as you are.” she lightly poked his belly.

“Hey, hey.” He ducked, “Don’t be mean to your ol’ man.”

Scylla slowly approached, picking up Raelle’s forgotten bag as she did so. A wave of nerves crashed through her. This was Raelle's dad. The man she admired and loved. And, this was her home. Where she grew up. Both so important to her. To who she is, who she became. This was the man who raised the woman she loved. The woman she had hurt. The woman she saw in her future.

“Well, who is this?” Edwin grinned politely and held out his hand, “Edwin Collar.”

“Scylla Ramshorn,” she took it, oddly comforted by the warmth and sturdy lightness in his touch.

“I apologize for my child. I thought I taught her how to treat a lady.”

“Pop,” Raelle quickly moved to Scylla’s side, taking her hand, “This is Scylla.” Her smile was shy yet so happy you could feel the giddiness a county over, “My girlfriend.”

“I can see that.” he chuckled, “Welcome to the Cession. Truck’s this way.” He crooked out his elbow, “If I may.”

Scylla glanced at Raelle before she hooked her arm through his, “Lead on, Mr. Collar.”

“Ed, please. We ain’t formal around these parts.” he led her toward a rusted dented truck, only tiny hints of the once sparkling blue paint still clinging to the metal. Raelle followed them, bags in hand. She easily tossed them in the bed of the truck, subtly elbowing her father out of the way as he escorted Scylla to the passenger side. “Go start ‘er up,”

“Sure, kid.” he laughed, relinquishing his hold and walking around the front. Raelle reached for the door, swinging it open and holding out a hand, “Watch your step, it’s a bit tricky.”

Scylla lifted an eyebrow and smirked, but let Raelle help her up. As she settled into the slightly ripped seat, the door shut gently and she saw the top of a blonde head race around to the other side.

“Come on, champ, in you go.” Edwin gestured, popping the driver’s seat forward. Raelle crawled into the back, plopping down near the center and reaching out for Scylla’s hand. 

Edwin popped the seat back in place, lumbering in after her and turning the key. The truck sputtered to a start and soon they were rolling down the road. The radio hummed with a soft country tune, the guitar strumming along with a hint of a forlorn fiddle and static.

“Scylla,” Edwin spoke up after a moment, “I must say, you are just as pretty as my kid here said you were, and that’s sayin’ somethin’ because she wrote a whole hell of a lot about you.”

“Did she?” she peeked over her shoulder to see Raelle as red as a tomato.

“Sure did. Didn’ know she knew so many words for ‘pretty.’”

“Well, you are.” Raelle shrugged.

“It’s ok. You’re very pretty too.” Scylla assured her. 

Raelle lifted her hand to her lips, “Not as pretty as you. Prettiest girl there is.”

“Trying to charm me, again?”

“All the time. Don’t want you using those lessons to catch yourself another fixer.”

“Catching you is enough for now.”

“Catchin’ you is enough for forever.”

Well damn.

“Rae, I got that thing of your grandma’s all cleaned up and in your room.” Edwin broke in.

Scylla had never seen Raelle’s eyes grow so wide.

“What thing?” she asked.

“Nothing!” Raelle shouted as her dad laughed loudly. “Not. A. Damn. Thing.”

Scylla tilted her head, not believing her for a minute. “Tell me later?”

“I’m sure she will.” Edwin muttered happily turning the wheel and reaching for the gear shift, “Here we are. Last stop.” He hopped out, snapping the chair up to allow Raelle out and fumbling with the keys. Raelle was out and to the passenger door before Scylla could fully look at the home. 

It was small.

The land around it was unkempt, more nature than anything. The buzz of crickets hummed in the cooling night air. Paint flecks on the wooden siding were merely a smattering of white, like snowflakes, and the front door creaked and squealed as Edwin opened it. Random car parts, tools, and containers dotted the land.

“I know.” Raelle spoke up, shame tinging her words, “Ain’t no High Atlantic summer home on a private beach.”

Not like the Bellweather home.

It wasn’t even Fort Salem.

No.

No, it wasn’t.

This was an actual home. 

Not a house. Not old regal soulless buildings. A home.

Worn down and lived in, but still standing. Still strong. 

Scylla easily jumped out of the truck, wrapping an arm around Raelle’s waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek, “It’s perfect.”

Raelle smiled softly and let their hands slide together, “Come on. I’ll show ya aroun’ then get our bags.”

“Your dad seems nice.”

“Don’ tell him that. It’ll go to his head.”

She bumped shoulders, “You seem nice.” The drawl was out, and Scylla couldn’t stop her heart from fluttering.

“Treat your girl right; she’ll treat you right.” Raelle recited, “An’ I’ve seen ya mad.”

“Yet, you keep getting into trouble.”

“Can’t help what my type is.”

Scylla rolled her eyes.

Raelle squeezed her hand, “Welcome home.”

The bedroom door clicked shut behind them, the house descending into silence save for the chirp of the crickets through the open window and the rumble of a distant storm. Raelle clicked a lamp on. The pale light cast shadows over the room.

They’d said good night to Edwin, the man having had a long day at work and the journey catching up with the two women. 

“My room.” Raelle set the bags down. “Not much but,”

“It’s nice. I like it.” Scylla walked around, picking up a lacrosse ball from the desk.

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while.” Raelle carelessly, almost angrily, tore a few pictures off the wall, folding them before shoving them in a drawer.

Scylla caught a glimpse of a younger looking Willa.

Similar to the photo she saw displayed proudly, lovingly, in the Collar living room. A family photo of a childish Raelle in between her gleeful parents. A camping trip, Edwin had explained. 

Raelle was taut with guilt and rage during the entire story. 

Scylla ignored her own sting of remorse. All she could do was alternate between eagerly learning a small snippet of her girlfriend’s past and covertly calming Raelle down with well timed taps to the back of her hand.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

“Lacrosse, huh?” she tossed the ball to Raelle.

She caught it easily, “Yeah. Played in school.” She looked down at the ball, spinning it in her hand. 

“Don’t tell me you were a jock.”

“Like you didn’ know it already.”

“You’ll have to teach me sometime. I never played.” she grabbed the front of Raelle’s shirt, pulling her close. “Hi.”

Raelle let her arms go around Scylla’s waist.

Scylla kissed her. A questioning kiss. A searching kiss.

Raelle pulled back, resting her forehead against the brunette’s.

“Tired?” she ran a hand up Raelle’s spine.

Raelle took a moment before shrugging.

“Rae,”

“It feels weird. Bein' back here.”

A kiss to her chin, “Weird how?”

“Didn’t think I’d ever actually come back.”

Because she thought she would be dead went unspoken.

“You have.” Scylla scratched her back, “Is this ok?”

Raelle leaned into her, tucking her face into the crook of her neck, “I like you here.” She pressed a kiss, “I like bein' anywhere you are.”

“Charmer.”

Raelle lightly touched her hips, “Can I show you somethin’?”

“Always”

Raelle stepped back, tossing the ball away before catching Scylla’s hands and tugging her out of the bedroom. They tiptoed through the house, the sound of old basketball game highlights murmuring from the living room where Edwin was splayed out on the recliner, snoring heartily. 

And supposedly Collars didn’t snore.

Soundlessly, Raelle led Scylla out the front door, taking extra care with the squeak of the hinges, and around the side of the house, making sure to skip past old tires and empty canisters.

As they walked, Scylla watched her girlfriend’s face, the stars and moon painting it with an almost ethereal glow. Catching her stare, Raelle nudged her shoulder, “It’s not far, beautiful.”

After about ten minutes of walking, Scylla was ready to ask where they were going, when Raelle pulled them to a stop in front of a copse of dead trees. Licking her lips, she whispered, “Close your eyes.”

Scylla tilted her head, silently wondering what was going on.

No answer. Only hopeful blue.

She closed her eyes.

Hands, gentle and sure, curled around her hips and cautiously steered her through the thicket. She felt the faint scratching of branches and twigs, but nothing more than a whisper of a touch before Raelle moved the danger away.

After a handful of steps, Raelle stopped them.

“Ok,” brushed against her ear, “open ‘em.”

Scylla did.

And gasped.

It was like nothing she had ever seen before.

The entire field, as far as the eye could see, glittered with thousands of tiny spectral lights, like fairies illuminating the night sky, mini stars in their own galaxy.

Fireflies.

Thousands of fireflies.

Raelle wrapped her arms around her from behind, cheek pressed to hers, “You like it?”

It was stunning.

“I love it.”

Her voice lowered, “I love you.”

“Rae,”

“I love you.” Raelle spoke confidently. “It’s...scary and real. I would do anything to see you smile. I want you to know, I’m always going to love you. I choose you. I’m not gonna leave you like my momma did to my pop. I’m gonna fight every day to be with you. To make you happy. I can get lost sometimes. A lot of times. My head is...but, you find me. If I’m ever where you’re not, know I’m thinkin’ of you and doin’ everything I can to be where you are. I swear.”

Scylla spun in her arms, crushing their mouths together and melting into the body against her own. Her hands framed Raelle’s face, urging her closer, forever closer.

“I love you.” Scylla gasped, “I’ll always choose you.”

“I’ve always loved you.” Raelle vowed, “No matter what.”

Scylla rolled onto her stomach, groaning as the soft solitude of slumber drifted away. Her brows scrunched, and she rubbed at her face, swiping the sleep away as an errant hand patted around the small bed.

Nothing.

It was empty.

Opening her eyes, she lifted her head and looked around.

Raelle’s childhood bedroom was cluttered, a chaotic mess of momentos, lacrosse gear, clothes, and blankets.

It was Raelle.

Sticking her nose into the battered yet inviting pillow, Scylla breathed in the all so familiar scent of moonshine, pine, and now a dash of damp earth and mushrooms. 

Memories from the previous night flashed in her mind, and she hugged the quilt around her close, smiling widely. 

She never dreamed something like this would happen to her. Never in her wildest craziest fantasies.

Love? Friends? Maybe family?

No.

But, here she was waking up in her girlfriend’s bed in her childhood home.

A girlfriend she loved more than anything.

And there, surrounded by stitched quilts and grass stained jerseys, was peace. No war. No conscription. No armies or witch hunters. No generals or missions.

Just the early morning breeze and calm.

She should be wary. Should expect the other shoe to drop. That’s what happened with dodgers. Nothing ever lasted. Everything always went away.

But, she couldn’t

At this moment, she could not do anything but let the sheets tickle her legs and think about midnight promises.

A clatter and voices drew her attention. Slipping out from under the sheets, she shivered as her bare feet padded across the wooden floor. She plucked a deep maroon sweatshirt from the back of the chair and slipped into it. 

It felt like a welcome hug.

The voices grew louder as she meandered through the house, folding the sleeves over her fists to protect against the chill.

She stopped when she spotted the kitchen, two Collars bickering as one held a mixing bowl and the other was bent over the table.

“My pancakes are great.” Edwin proclaimed, rooting around in the drawer for a spoon. “She’ll like ‘em.”

“Pop, I ain’t lettin’ ya kill my girl. We didn’t survive Fort Salem just for you to murder us with lumpy burnt piles of dough.” she waved a screwdriver at him.

“I don’ know why you’re actin’ like my pancakes are bad now.” he groused.

“We talked ‘bout this.” She tinkered with what looked like a box of wires and screws, “She doesn’ eat pancakes.”

“Who doesn’ eat pancakes?”

“My girl, who you aren’t killin’.” 

“Kid, you’re going to electrocute yourself.”

“I’m jus’ fixin’ it.”

“That toaster hasn’t worked in years. Why are you fiddlin’ with it now?”

Toaster. She was working on a toaster.

Raelle sighed and reached for a screw, “Because I’m makin’ toast.”

“We are having pancakes.”

“Ouch,” Raelle flung her hand back, shaking it. “Damn it.”

Scylla decided to step in before Raelle actually did electrocute herself, “Good morning.”

“G’morning, Scylla. Want some of my famous pancakes?” Edwin asked.

“No, she does not.” Raelle hopped up, bounding over and giving her a kiss, “Hi.” She frowned, “You don’t, do you? Because if you do, I’ll go to the diner and...”

Scylla cupped her cheek, pulling her in for another kiss, “Coffee is fine.”

“Ok, I’ll get it. Have a seat.” Raelle gestured to the table before going over to the stuttering coffee maker.

“Ya’ll got plans today?” Edwin asked.

Scylla looked to Raelle, who shrugged and poured some of the hot liquid into a mug, “Thought maybe we’d go for a walk.” She dumped in some cream and sugar, stirring briskly.

Scylla gave her wrist a grateful affectionate squeeze as Raelle handed her the mug of steaming coffee. “That sounds perfect.”

Raelle perked up, winking before going back to her box of wires that was formerly known as a toaster.

“What are you doing, babe?” Scylla asked innocently.

“Fixin’.” Raelle replied, chewing on her bottom lip. She could normally fix something like this, but this toaster was not cooperating. 

“How’s it going?”

Raelle grunted.

Shaking her head, Scylla scooted her chair around so she was next to Raelle, “Can I help?”

Raelle looked like she was going to refuse, but then slumped in her seat, “Have you fixed one of these before?”

“No, but we can probably figure it out together.”

Strolling casually through the field, wind ruffling their hair, Scylla leaned into Raelle’s side, grinning as the other girl lifted their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of the brunette’s.

Raelle let their hands fall between them, glancing down at her feet, “I was nervous.”

Scylla looked at her, silently urging her to continue.

Raelle shrugged, “The nightmares get worse if I’m somewhere different. Your bed or mine, they’re manageable. Elsewhere...they happen more.” Another shrug, “I was worried I’d wake my dad up.”

That he would learn she had nightmares.

Scylla wrapped her arm around Raelle’s shoulders, “I think he would understand.”

“He shouldn’t have to.” she pursed her lips, “It’s bad enough you have to deal with me.”

“Stop.”

A sigh.

“Hey,” Scylla shook her gently, “focus on me, ok? Tell me about this place.”

“Not much to tell. It’s what you see.”

Her fingers tangled in the chain that hung around Raelle’s neck, “What was it like here growing up?”

“Rough.” Raelle bent over, scooping up a dandelion. She held it out to Scylla, who took it, twirling it playfully. “As you can tell, there’s not much here. Pop does his best, but not everyone uses a mechanic or can even pay for one. I’d fix people for cash sometimes. Other times just because it was the right thing to do.” She bit her lip, “Most people are civilians. Don’t care one way or another about the wars and all that. Some aren’t too happy about Pop having a witch for a kid, but it is what it is.”

“What would they do?”

“Say stuff. Sometimes more, but I didn’t wait till Basic to learn to throw a punch.” 

“Raelle,”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” the thought of civilians attacking Raelle because she was a witch made her blood boil.

“Momma was deployed all the time. Because she married my dad. Had me. They cut her pension to practically nothin’. When she...went away...we didn’t get much of anything.”

“You dad?”

“Did his best. That’s what he does.” she stopped walking. Inhaling deeply, she faced Scylla, “That was back then. Now, right now, I’m happy. I even like serving under Izadora. You necros aren’t so bad.”

Scylla went with the subject change, “I love you.”

“Hope so. I don’t just bring anyone to see the Cession sights.”

“Thank you. For what you said last night.”

“What? About how I love you? Nothin’ new there, Ramshorn.”

“You know what.”

Raelle turned serious, “I meant it. Every word.”

Scylla ran her hand along the back of Raelle’s neck, tugging the metal chain and pulling the medal out from beneath her shirt. She cradled the circular charm in her palm, “I hate this.”

She flipped it over.

“Corporal Collar. Intelligence.” she read.

“It’s not the only oath I’ve taken.”

Scylla felt a lump forming in her throat, “Might as well be a chain around your wrists.”

Ralle lightly grasped her chin, running the pad of her thumb along the line of her bottom lip, “Together, right? Like anyone else. I go to work, and I come home. You go to work and come home. Sometimes work just happens to be in a creepy necro basement.”

“I wish I could break you free.”

“You already have.” 

Birds chirped overhead.

Then, without warning, Raelle smacked Scylla’s shoulder and raced off, “Tag. You’re it!”

“Serious?” Scylla laughed, running after her.

“Come on, Scyl! I thought you were a runner now.”

Damn Anacostia.

“You’re such a child, Collar!”

They ran around the field, dodging and weaving, chortling and grinning.

Scylla finally tackled Raelle to the ground, pinning her in place, “Caught you.”

“Yes ma’am, you sure did.”

The air around them sparked.

Lips melted together.

Hands pulled at clothes. 

Bodies moved together, arching and crashing in a well known rhythm.

Scylla sat at the kitchen table, idly poking at the toaster and thinking about how quickly two weeks could slip by when Edwin strolled in, buttoning the last button on his work shirt, “Hi, Scylla.”

“Hi, Ed. Raelle is in the shower.”

He nodded, “I’m going to drop you two off at the bus then head in to work.”

“Whenever you’re ready. We packed our bags last night.” At his look she amended, “I packed. Raelle would’ve waited till five minutes from now to pack.”

“That’s my kid.” he poured a mug of coffee, taking a sip before leaning against the counter, “I haven’t thanked you yet.”

Scylla frowned in confusion, “Thank me?”

“For taking care of my daughter.” another sip, “She...she didn’t have the best childhood. When her mom died, she lost that spark in her. I thought it was gone forever, until I saw her get off that bus with you.” He fiddled with the handle, “I knew you were special the first time she mentioned you. She rarely mentions anyone, let alone someone she’s interested in. She kept talking about you, and I knew she found a keeper.”

Scylla ducked her head, not used to the praise.

“Something happened to her. I don’t know what exactly, but I can tell. I saw the same things in her momma when she was still around.”

Scylla held her breath.

Edwin set his mug down and moved to the chair next to Scylla, “It’s not easy, being in love with someone who is always in danger. Always trying to help other people.” He spread his hands out on the wooden tabletop, “I hate that my daughter has to serve. She didn’t have a choice. There are so many things she could have done. Could do.” He paused, “But, she found this. She found you. And, I’m thankful for that.”

“I’m grateful she found me.”

“I want you to call me whenever you want. Write, too. I might be an old man, but I can listen. I know what it’s like to watch the woman you love leave and not know if she’s coming back. I know what it’s like to have her come back and be different. Have a certain look in her eyes. Willa would get this look. Lose herself. Not be here with us. I’ve seen that in Raelle sometimes. I want you to know, I understand you’re good for her. You’re keeping my kid here. You’re keeping her with us. I’ll do whatever I can to help you and keep you here too.”

Scylla didn’t know she was crying until she found herself wrapped in Edwin’s arms, whiffs of moonshine and oil filling her senses.

“Welcome to the family, kiddo.”      

Chapter Text

Raelle marched down the narrow hallway, stepping closer to the wall and giving a friendly nod to the formation of first year cadets milling about in their crisp white lab coats outside of the classroom, waiting for one of Izadora’s fellow Necro teachers to arrive to present the next lecture on the proper way to collect field samples. 

They were such baby weirdos.

Raelle shook her head. Of course, she remembered the first time she bumped into a necro collecting field samples.

It led to her first trip on salva and starting to live a little.

Goddess, who would have thought being reckless enough to follow a girl, she’d only met because of ditching her first training session, to tie a rope around her ankle and slap unauthorized government issue salva to her neck would result in her plotting the fastest way to Petra Bellweather’s office so she could drop off these files and catch Scylla before dinner?

The thought of seeing Scylla caused more butterflies than could ever be found in nature to erupt in her belly, and Raelle would have rolled her eyes at herself if she wasn’t so giddy. 

Not that she would let anyone else know that.

But, after the trip home, even before that, life was...ok. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But, things were ok. She was happy. Her and Scylla were happy. Even Abigail and Tally were doing well. 

A few of the cadets waived at the familiar face, and Raelle smiled back before darting away. A short chuckle slipped out as she heard one of the witches scold them for not properly greeting someone of a higher rank. She breathed in the gentle thrum of energy, unconsciously slowing down in front of a certain door before picking up her pace and skipping up the stairs.

The cold winter air smacked her in the face like a sledgehammer the moment she reached the top. Her nose immediately turned red, ears pink, and she ducked her head, pulling her coat tighter around her lithe frame. 

Scylla’s voice, reminding her to bring her gloves, echoed in her head as her bare hands dove into her pockets, seeking shelter from the invisible stabbing needles the dreary season launched at her. 

“You’re cute, Collar, but it’s freezing outside.” Scylla set her post-run bottle of water down on the bedside table and reached for the drawer, “And you can’t handle the cold.”

“I can handle it.” Raelle pulled on the end of her sleeve, straightening out the bunched wrinkles near her shoulder.

Scylla hummed, “I don’t want to hear about how my tough cession soldier got sick because she was too stubborn to wear gloves.” Scylla stepped up to her, tiny can in hand. She plucked out a patch and motioned for Raelle to tilt her head.

“It’s just snow.” she offered up the back of her ear.

Scylla rolled her eyes, “As if you have actually seen snow.” The patch quickly dissolved. “You started ditching those sexy sleeveless shirts the second it dropped below twenty outside.”

“I’ve seen snow.”

“In pictures.” she brushed her lips against the shell of her ear, “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

A tiny nip and Scylla was stepping back, “Wear your gloves. I need those hands protected. They’re very important.”

“Oh? How important?”

“Immensely.” she smirked, “They bring me coffee in the morning.”

“Is that all they bring?”

“Guess we’ll have to see tonight, so you better protect them until then.”

Raelle sighed, “I have to go. Meet before dinner?” 

Scylla studied her for a moment, “You don’t know where your gloves are, do you?”

Raelle returned the stare for a moment before relenting, “Tally was cold the other day.”

Scylla shook her head ruefully, “Tally gave them back to you.”

A slightly sheepish shrug hidden behind an air of casual conversation, “The new cadets are collecting samples, and one of them kept shaking so badly I thought they would tear up the entire field. Would have messed up the entire training session. Made Izaora mad, and I can’t have my CO angry. It would look bad.”

Scylla softened, her entire face saying everything. She carefully returned the small container to its drawer before tugging Raelle into her arms, “You’re cute.” She pecked her lips, “Right drawer of your desk. She dropped them off yesterday while you were in class.” Another quick kiss, “Put your gloves on.”

Raelle cupped her chin, drawing her in for another kiss, this one much longer, “Who said you could order me around?”

“Your dad.”

“Figures.” 

Fingers tickled the chain around her neck, tracing up to the fine hairs at the nape, “Are you going to kiss me, Corporal Collar, or am I going to have to remember my Kissing a Fixer 101 course?”

“Is that threat, Ramshorn?”

“You were trained in how to deal with threats, weren’t you?”

Raelle slipped her hand to cup the back of her head, urging her into a kiss, “Yes ma’am”

She forgot her gloves. 

Blinking, she felt smooth leather rub against her knuckles. She stopped walking and plucked out whatever was bundled inside.

Her gloves.

Smiling to herself and biting her lip, she tugged them on before pushing her hands back into the little cloth cubbies.

How in the hell had Scylla snuck those in there?

Fumbling with her boots as she raced against the clock to not be late to her first class of the day as Scylla helped her back into her coat flashed in her head.

Of course.

Trudging forward, she didn’t see the figure ahead of her until it was too late.

Willa Collar looked warm, cozy, even, wrapped in a scarf and winter coat, hat covering her ears and once vibrant hair. 

The smile on Raelle’s face disappeared.

“Raelle,” Willa offered her a gentle grin.

Raelle barely glanced at her.

“Raelle,” her voice grew more firm.

“I have to go.” Raelle stepped around her, “Assignment from my CO.”

“Where are you going? I’ll walk with you.”

Raelle scoffed. Of course she would. “I don’t need an escort.”

Willa continued on as if she hadn’t spoken, “Congratulations on the promotion to Intelligence. I haven’t been able to speak with you since it happened, but I wanted you to know I’m proud of you.”

They hadn’t spoken beyond a terse greeting since the bus incident.

Raelle tensed, jaw locking hard enough to crack stone, “Guess that’s what happens when you leave. You miss things.”

“Raelle,”

“I’m not going to tell you anything.”

“Army intelligence and I share information. I most likely already know what’s in the memos you’re carrying.”

“Makes me a pretty useless target, then.” a humorless chuckle, “Nothing new there.”

“Rae, honey, please.” Willa reached for her arm.

“Don’t!.” Raelle ripped her arm back and spun around to face her. Her eyes blazed with barely contained fury, “Don’t call me that. And, don’t act like…”

“Like your mother?”

“Like you’re anything to me.”

Willa’s face hardened, but her eyes were shattered, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you are my daughter, and I love you. More than the sun and the moon.”

The pockets of Raelle’s coat bulged as her hands curled into fists, “Not enough to stay.”

Willa sighed.

Raelle glanced away, sniffing, before turning her blue orbs back on the woman whose own eyes everyone said mirrored hers, “I visited dad. He still doesn’t know you’re alive. Your pictures are still up...like...like you’re part of our family. But, you’re not. How could you be? You chose to leave us.”

“Rae,”

“He still misses you!” Raelle shouted. Her hand flew up, gesturing wildly, “Pop loves you, and you’re standing here as if you never broke his heart. You’re weak. You’re weak, and you’re cruel, and you are not the woman who married my father because there is no way he could love someone like you.”

“Someone who loves her family enough to let them go? To give up everything in the hopes that one day her child doesn’t have to go through what she has?” Willa shot back. “If you think for one moment, girl, that it was easy for me to walk away, then you need to look at yourself.”

Raelle shook her head.

“What does Scylla think of all this?”

The winter wind would never be as cold as the eyes that glared at Willa, once bright blue turning a darker angry shade, icy and jagged, “Don’t talk about her.” The air crackled with electricity.

“Scylla joined us of her own accord. She wasn’t manipulated or coerced.”

“Stop.”

“That girl believes in the Cause. You know it.” Her eyes bore holes in the younger woman, “She wants the same thing I do. For you to be free. Do not be angry with me because I fought for you longer.” She took a breath, switching tactics, “She was tortured. Locked up. Chained. By the same military you think won’t force you to give up everything you hold dear because of an agreement made lifetimes ago to let civilians live free while witches die for them. Her parents were murdered for not wanting to serve. For not wanting to give everything for nothing in return.” 

Raelle couldn’t stop touching her. Kissing her. Needing to know this was real. This wasn’t a dream. A hallucination. 

Scylla was alive. 

She was alive.

Emotions overtook her, filling her mind and guiding her body as she desperately tried to hold on to the other girl. Tell her how much she loved her. Wanted her. She felt so much, she didn’t know what to do. All she wanted was to lose herself in the girl she loved.

Scylla was so pale. Bruised. Almost broken.

“Did they hurt you?”

Raelle was in her face before Willa could take her next breath, “You are nothing like her. You are nothing like me. Don’t you dare act like you’re some saint.” Her body shook.

Willa looked calmly at her, “How are the nightmares, Raelle?”

Raelle stared at her. 

“Are they gone? Do you never have a moment where you wake up screaming? Wake up thinking you’re back in the middle of the fight? Surrounded by witches dying? No matter how much you give, it’s never enough? Is that all gone?”

Raelle’s lip began to tremble.

“Do you worry about hurting the people you love? Injuring them because you don’t know where you are? Can’t tell them from the visions in your head? Wake up so tired that you would rather never get up than have to face one more day?”

“I’m getting better.” Raelle ground out. 

“How long till they send you back out? How much will that ‘help’ you are getting work when you’re back on the front lines?”

Raelle stepped back, pursing her lips. 

“You will be sent back out. The army doesn’t care how many deployments you’ve been on or how much you’ve endured. If you think Alder won’t punish you for being with a Spree the same way I was punished for being with your father, you need to think again, girl. They left you on your first mission. You and your Unit member. They did not try to save you. That... Alder deployed you straight out of Basic without one ounce of regret.” She softened her tone, “We have a common enemy now, but the moment the Camarilla are gone, everything will go back to how it was. Witches will still be forced to spend their lives dying for other people’s wars. You will be forced to deploy. Again and again. You will be sent out knowing you won’t come back to the people who love you. That you will break their hearts because you don’t have a choice. Whether it’s because you’re dead or you might as well be.”

“So, what? You want me to join the Spree? Go around killing innocent people, lying and manipulating, until what? Until you say it’s ok?”

“I want you to think about the life you really want to have. And, the life you’re going to have if you don’t accept that things need to change.” Willa lightly ran a finger through the loose strands of short blonde hair, letting her touch linger along the curve of Raelle’s left ear, “Remember what you’re fighting for. Remember what you could lose, what they will take away from you.”

Willa’s hand dropped away, “I love you. I don’t want you to go through what I did. Not what your father and I did. Because, they will use you. They already have.”

“I love you.” Raelle sobbed, kissing Scylla. 

She didn’t know what was happening. Where they were. All she knew, all she cared about, was that Scylla was there. Alive. In her arms. Warm and solid and real beneath her hands.

She loved her. She loved her so much.

Murmuring everything she felt, Raelle held on to her, kissing her. Willing Scylla to feel that Raelle was hers. Her heart, her body, her soul, her everything belonged to Scylla. Nothing else mattered. Scylla was there, and Raelle loved her.

She didn’t hear the door.

Didn’t hear the boots.

Hands roughly grabbed her arms, forcing her back and away from Scylla.

“NOOOO!” Scylla’s voice tore Raelle’s spirit to shreds.

No. No. NO!

Raelle fought. Kicked and screamed and clawed and wrestled, willing to break every bone in her body, battle every army, to get back to Scylla.

The next thing she knew, she was in her bed, Scylla’s screams haunting her mind.

“I will protect you as much as I can.” Willa urged her to believe, “But, you have to let me. See what is really happening. See what Scylla sees. Things are coming, Raelle. Don’t get caught in the crossfire.”

Snow began to fall and a line of cadets, jogging in time, swept down the path, separating the two.

Raelle stared at her a moment longer before walking away, hand unconsciously patting the courier bag hanging near her hip.

Scylla stood in the middle of the room, her back never facing any of the other occupants. She took on an air of calm. Disinterest. Command. 

Anxiety churned inside her stomach.

Everything felt wrong.

“You’re sure this is accurate?” she asked, casually hooking a hand in her trouser pocket. 

“Our sources confirmed what the Spree operatives told us.” the junior intelligence officer nodded at Willa. “The top Camarilla leadership is located outside of Philadelphia. We believe they are plotting a large attack, maybe even against Fort Salem again. They do not know we have apprehended one of their members.”

Who was most likely in the dungeon Scylla once called a bastardized version of home. 

“So,” Scylla smirked, “you want me to pretend to be this member and play spy? Sounds like fun. Why me, though? Don’t you have actual intelligence soldiers to do this sort of thing.” A shrug, “I’m just a low level Spree traitor.” Her eyes ticked to Willa then Petra, the other two occupants, “This is above my paygrade.”

“You’ve proven yourself.” Willa replied.

“Oh? That’s new. Guess we all remember how my last undercover mission went a little differently. The torture and starvation may have messed up my memory, though.”

“We need to move quickly, and there is no one else here who has fully mastered the ability to...change your appearance.” the young officer cut in.

Many of the Spree operatives were scattered around the country, returning to their homes for the winter months.

“This is a once in a lifetime chance. If we take down the leadership, we can fully defeat the Camarilla.” Petra explained. “Or at least strike a devastating blow that they cannot recover from.”

Scylla looked at her, “You really believe that?”

“Yes,” Petra nodded, “based on our gathered intelligence from the field, we can end this war. Limit any further casualties.”

Limit any further casualties. 

End the war. 

“How long?”

“You’d leave now. As soon as possible.” the junior officer piped up, “We will drop you just outside of the location. You will travel the rest of the way on your own. We will have support nearby. The moment you confirm our intelligence is completely accurate and provide information as to the location the leadership is housed in - their movement patterns, ingress and egress, possible dangers - our team will move in and eliminate the threat.” 

“Any other information you could glean while there would also be most helpful.” Petra chimed in.

“Now?” Scylla scoffed, “Right now?”

“There’s no time to waste.” Petra spoke.

The corner of Scylla’s mouth quirked, “You want me to walk into what is probably a trap, or at least where I’ll very likely die, and you want me to do it right now? No questions asked? Because you say so?

Willa took a step towards her, “You know what this could save us.”

Scylla met her eyes.

Blue eyes.

The same color but oh so different from another Collar’s.

The implication was clear.

Ending the war could save Raelle.

She could save Raelle.

“I want to see her.”

“There’s no time.” Willa shook her head.

“I either see her, or I don’t go.” Scylla stood her ground. She was not leaving without seeing Raelle. Saying goodbye to her. Kissing her.

“Ms. Ramshorn.” Petra drew her attention, “Time is of the essence. The window is closing. They will soon discover their member is missing. If we do not act this very moment, we will lose our chance.” She nodded to the junior officer who pulled a lighter out of their pocket along with a picture. 

It was a man. Nothing very distinguishable or memorable. Medium height. Short brown hair. Stubby nose and piercing black eyes. 

This man was the key to defeating the Camarilla. 

“Please.” Willa whispered.

Biting her lip, Scylla took the lighter. 

She flicked it. Once. Twice.

This was dangerous. 

She could die.

Flick.

Flick.

“I love you.” Raelle spoke confidently. “It’s...scary and real. I would do anything to see you smile. I want you to know, I’m always going to love you. I choose you. I’m not gonna leave you like my momma did to my pop. I’m gonna fight every day to be with you. To make you happy. I can get lost sometimes. A lot of times. My head is...but, you find me. If I’m ever where you’re not, know I’m thinkin’ of you and doin’ everything I can to be where you are. I swear.”

Flick.

Flick.

“Corporal Collar. Intelligence.” she read.

“It’s not the only oath I’ve taken.”

Scylla felt a lump forming in her throat, “Might as well be a chain around your wrists.”

Ralle lightly grasped her chin, running the pad of her thumb along the line of her bottom lip, “Together, right? Like anyone else. I go to work, and I come home. You go to work and come home. Sometimes work just happens to be in a creepy necro basement.”

Flick.

Flick.

“Yeah? How? I was always going to be a combat medic.” Her hands waved wildly, “I can’t see like Tally or control things like Abigail. I don’t know...anything like you do. I’m not...I’m not some High Atlantic with a big name and fancy titles. I’m not going to become an officer. I’m a Collar from the Cession. I am going to be a combat medic and…”

Flick.

Flick.

“Shut up.” Scylla ordered. Her chest rose and fell with each harsh pant, “You are not doing this. You are not killing yourself on some stupid suicide pact you’ve had with yourself since Basic.”

“I’m a fixer.”

“You’re hurt!” she dug the heel of her palm into Raelle’s shoulder, smirking angrily but taking no pleasure at the wince, “You can barely walk. You’re fucking covered in blood, Raelle!” Her voice dropped, “You’re covered in blood.”

Flick.

Flick.

“I don’t want to smell smoke anymore. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Taking a deep breath, Scylla covertly drew an S on the inside of her palm.

She ran her thumb over the lighter. 

A tiny flame appeared.

She lifted it to her face.

“I love you, Raelle. I’ll come home, soon” she silently vowed before starting the chant under her breath.

The door to the room swung open as the flame leapt to her hair.

“Scylla, I swear I have been looking all over for you.” Raelle burst through, Izadora and Anacostia hot on her heels. “There are orders to…”

Raelle’s eyes landed on her.

On the flames starting to consume her face.

Scylla felt the world end.

Saw it obliterated in the fire reflected in Raelle’s eyes.

Time stood still.

The world stopped turning.

Then.

“NO!” 

The inhumane animalistic howl tore from the very depths of Raelle’s being. Primal. Ancient. Deafening. 

The room quaked, windows shattering. Furniture slid across the floorboards denting and tearing.

Raelle lunged forward. Wild hands slammed into the lighter, harshly knocking it from Scylla’s hand as they moved to bat at the flames.

“Raelle, no!” Willa shouted as the junior officer moved to block her, “Corporal Collar!”

Scylla stumbled back, unable to comprehend what was happening, hand stinging.

Her lover was seeing her face on fire.

Her lover who was haunted by phantom flames and smokey skies.

“No!” Raelle cried, throwing the officer off like she weighed nothing, a floppy ragdoll easily tossed aside.

“Rae, Raelle.” Scylla called out, holding her hands up.

“Collar!” Anacostia shouted. She dove, tackling Raelle from behind. 

Raelle squirmed in her hold, elbow connecting with the sergeant’s face as Izadora fell on top of her, grabbing for her flailing arms. 

Scylla felt like she couldn’t breathe. No. No. No.

“Rae, baby. Look at me. It’s ok.” She desperately tried to calm her.

“Collar, calm down!” Anacostia ordered, blood pouring from her nose. 

“Scylla! No!” Ralle twisted, shoulder jamming into Izadora’s chest. 

“Raelle,” the necro teacher tried to hang on, “breathe.”

“Get off me!” Raelle shouted, hyperventilating “Scylla! She’s on fire. SHE’S ON FIRE!!!!”

“Rae, stop. Baby, stop.” Scylla begged. She spun around, her face now that of a middle aged man, her hands not her own, voice too deep. “Where’s the lighter? Where’s the damn lighter?”

Anacostia rolled Raelle onto her stomach, pressing her entire body on top of her as Izadora helped to hold her down.

Scylla looked to a stunned Willa, “Give me a damn lighter!”

Snapping out of her horrified stupor, Willa dug in her pocket, producing a small plastic lighter. Scylla snatched it from her, quickly chanting under her breath as she turned her back to Raelle and flicked the flame to life.

The room shook so hard, Scylla nearly fell over.

“Collar, Raelle, listen to me. Listen to my voice.” Izadora commanded. “I need you to concentrate on my voice.”

Scylla squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to ignore the screams. The terror. The agony.

“SCYLLA! Get off! I gotta help. I gotta...someone help! She’s burning! Can’t you smell it? Fire...they’re...they’re burning.”

The second she felt the lie melted away, Scylla catapulted around. She dove to the ground, “Raelle. Raelle!”

Thunder cracked overhead.

The air grew hot. Scorching.

“No, no, no, no.” chanted Raelle, eyes wide, unseeing. The blue so dark it was nearly black.

“Raelle, look at me. Look at me. I’m ok.” Scylla stretched for her.

Without warning, Raelle twisted and jerked back, nearly sending Anacostia tumbling off and into the wall. Desperately, she wiggled her hand free, the scarred S visible on the inside of her palm. She shoved her right hand against it, muttering under her breath.

“Do not fear for I am with you

Do not be dismayed, I will strengthen and heal you

Place me like a seal over your heart

For love is as strong as death

It burns like blazing fire

Rivers cannot sweep it away.” 

A warmth began to infuse Scylla. She gasped at the sensation. Her senses filled with the scent of pine and moonshine, mushrooms and dirt. She could feel Raelle. Inside.

Love. Devotion. Affection. Joy. Trust.

It infused into her heart. Bathed her in promises and belief.

“Raelle.” Scylla gasped.

The air shifted.

It hummed. Vibrated at a frequency none of them had ever experienced before. 

Silver streaks began to overtake midnight blue.

A burst of wind, strong as a hurricane, whipped through the room, knocking everyone to their knees. 

Scylla reached out, her hand falling on top of Raelle’s.

Raelle 

She stared into the eyes she loved.

Eyes that were windows to the soul she would always cherish. Always love.

She held them in her gaze. 

Refused to look away.

The air grew still.

A silent void.

The universe stopped existing.

Then.

From their joined hands burst forth a wave of power so strong it could not be described in words. Erupted like a volcano. Like the beginning of the galaxy. Stars and moons and planets colliding and shaping and bringing life to the desolate emptiness of space and time.

Scylla stared into Raelle’s eyes.

And nothing touched her.

A sphere, translucent and pure, enveloped them. The galaxy of destruction and chaos in the room surrounded them, but did not touch them. It floated like a bubble around them, a beckoning rolling ocean.  

“Rae,” Scylla whispered. She felt the energy between them. The current of something so strong it felt like all the magic in the world filled them, connected them, bound them together. Molding and melding, coursing through her veins and igniting in her mind and soul. 

Warmth. Love. Fear. Anger. Agony. Despair. Hope. Every single part of Raelle fused within her. She felt her own essence merge with the other woman’s. She caught glimpses of stitched quilts and goodbye hugs. Sad letters and early morning banter. She saw herself through Raelle’s eyes. Their first morning together, their first kiss, their first hug. The first time Raelle knew she loved her.

She thought she saw a glimpse of her own parents, smiling and happy.  

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

“Scyl?” Raelle whimpered.

Scylla tenderly whispered, “I love you.” She clasped her palm to Raelle’s. 

The power snapped.

The bubble burst.

A deafening boom shook the building, the very foundation rocking.

The shock wave was visible in its immense power. It raced through the room, rolling over everyone inside before crashing through the brick and mortar to submerge the surrounding grounds and all living souls within its boundaries. 

Then, it was gone.

And the earth quieted.

The hurricane died down.

Peace descended upon Fort Salem once more.

Anacostia’s crumpled form sat up, nose fully healed. Body perfectly healthy, even the tiny cut on her hand from an earlier training session was gone. Fixed. 

Willa began to stand up, no aches or pains contorting her body. She tugged at her shirt. No bruises underneath from where she hit the desk. 

They would soon learn every person the wave touched was healed, no injury, whether big or small, left uncured.

Izadora stared at the two girls, mouth in a contemplative thin line, concern crinkling the edges of her eyes. A sharp contrast to Petra's calculating gaze.

Scylla watched as Raelle’s eyes slowly changed color. Back to the light greyish blue she adored. 

“Rae?”

Raelle collapsed, eyes rolling back in her head. Scylla clambered to her. She wrapped her in her arms and pulled her into her lap. “You’re ok. It’s ok. We’re ok.” she muttered, kissing the top of her head. Raelle was boneless in her embrace, head lulling underneath her chin. “We’re ok, baby. We’re ok.”

“What the hell was that?” Abigail spoke loudly from the doorway, a wide eyed Tally beside her.

Chapter Text

The hum of the crickets outside thrummed the air, a pleasant buzz that reminded her of long nights spent sneaking out the window and wandering through the nearby fields, staring at the stars and hunting fireflies. The old house creaked and groaned with age, strong foundations settling in for the night. 

Staring up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom, pock marked and chipped, Raelle pretended she could see through the ceiling, past the patched roof and to the sky. Millions of stars twinkled in her eyes. Bright celestial winks that entreated her to imagine that this was normal. This was what she could have every night for the rest of her life. 

That she could fully allow herself to have a plan that involved peaceful quiet evenings with the most beautiful girl in the world curled in her arms. 

Be happy.

Have a life.

Licking her lips, she felt a cute nose nuzzle into her chest, warm puffs of air tickling the skin near her heart. She peeked down, unable to stop herself from burying her face in wild brown locks. She pressed a kiss there, closing her eyes and letting the feeling of love fill her soul. 

Scylla, in the throes of slumber, muttered under her breath and cuddled closer. She weakly twisted her fingers in the faded cotton of Raelle’s tank top. Raelle rubbed her shoulder lightly, carefully untangling the hold and linking their fingers together. 

How this one girl could make her feel so much amazed her. It was never anything she expected to happen. How could she? She was a witch. A half breed, the rag-tag troublesome kid of a lowly civilian and constantly deployed witch. A Cession. What did she have to offer beyond putting others out of their misery with her early death? 

What did she have to offer beyond healing as many people as possible before she got blown up on the front lines?

What sort of life could a Cession combat medic have?

A nobody with nothing?

This.

This was the sort of life she could have.

They had gone through so much. Scylla put up with so much. Her nightmares. Her moments of panic. Her deployments. 

Her caustic words and harsh actions.

Here they were. Scylla was still in her arms. Still told her she loved her every morning. Still held her hand and looked at her with the prettiest blue eyes known to humankind. Sassed her and touched her and gifted her with kisses that made Raelle’s head spin.

Scylla, who didn’t have a family. Didn’t have a Unit. Who stood strong, tall, independent. Could take care of herself but snuggled into Raelle when the wind kicked up or the nights grew cold.

Who made Raelle believe this moment could happen.

Who believed right along with her.

Who kept choosing her.

Challenged her once to live a little and never let her stop.

Pressing one last kiss to her head, Raelle carefully let go of her hand and maneuvered out from under her. A flick of her wrist had the quilt pulled back up to the slumbering girl’s shoulders, warm and soft. She held her breath, watching the pale peaceful face for any sign of discomfort. 

She was so beautiful.

Young and gorgeous, free of worries and doubt. Gone was pain and the need to protect herself. She wasn’t a young woman who put on a mask of rebellious derision to hide the grief inside of her. Scylla was far away, in a land where she could just be...Scylla. 

Raelle’s fingers twitched, itching to touch her. Trace the smooth plain of her cheek, the adorable dip of her chin, the elegant cut of her jaw, the delicate curve of her brow. Memorize this moment, this girl, and tuck it in her back pocket for a rough day, a day she needed reminding that there was a light in the darkness.

There was someone to always come home to.

Who would always come home to her.

Scylla let out a teeny grumble and grabbed the pillow, hugging it close and burrowing into the quilt.

Smiling to herself, Raelle padded quietly over to her desk. Slowly, oh so slowly, she pulled the drawer open, wincing as it made a squeak.

She glanced at Scylla.

No movement.

Still asleep.

Deft hands reached inside, plucking out the random bits and pieces, old school papers, pens, a long forgotten pack of stale gum, before touching the bottom. Running her hand over the rough wood, she hooked her fingertips around the edge. With a few hearty tugs, the wood lifted up. She removed it, setting it on top of the desk before plunging her hand inside and grabbing the object hidden within.

The small wooden box fit snugly in the palm of her hand.

The wood was clean and smooth. Intricate lines were carved on the sides, strands of ivy culminating in a blossoming violet on the lid.

Swallowing thickly, Raelle flipped the lid open.

The ring was small. A simple silver band nestled in a bed of crumpled paper and scraps of cloth. The tiny blue gem delicately placed in the center sparkled in the moonlight, shimmering like the ocean at midday. 

Her pop had proposed with this ring. It was passed down for generations, starting way way back when her ancestor found the most elegant rock around and fashioned a ring for his love. Her pop took this ring and gave it to her mama. She accepted it. Never wore it. She was always away, and war was no place for something like this. Her grandma kept it till she died, then her pop hung on to it.

Kept it safe till she found the gal that would make her feel as free as the sky and as cherished as the earth. 

Her fingers hesitated, reaching out but not touching. Her pop did a good job cleaning it up. The flash of blue reminded her of Scylla’s eyes when she sunk down into the sheets of their bed, kissing her and holding her close. 

She trembled as she finally let her fingertip slide down the side of the band. 

Goddess, but it would look perfect on Scylla’s finger. 

Raelle exhaled slowly. She was a witch, but a civilian at heart. She learned from her Pop. You find the one, it’s for forever. You know when it’s right, and you do all you can to live that forever in every moment. Cherish the one who you wanted to give the world to. The one who made it so you could finally see the sun after an eternity of darkness. Was the moonlight in your night sky.

The kind of love that got this ring never stopped.

The kind of love she already knew she felt. 

Chewing her bottom lip, she reached under her top, pulling out the medal that rested against her chest. She held it in her other palm thumbing the etch of an eagle before flipping it over to see her rank and assigned division.

She looked back at the ring, hand fisting around her medal. 

“Rae?” Scylla’s groggy voice whispered, “Babe?”

Sniffing, Raelle quickly snapped the box closed. She shoved it back in the cubby, putting the fake bottom in place and shutting the drawer, “Yeah…”

“You ok?” Scylla shuffled around, pushing up on an elbow as she rubbed at her bleary eyes. 

“Yeah, jus’...just checkin’ somethin’.” Raelle walked back to the bed, climbing back under the covers.

Scylla cupped her cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth tenderly, “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Raelle grinned gently and kissed her. “I’m good.”

Scylla studied her for a moment, “You’re thinking about something.”

“You, always you.” 

“Charming even at two in the morning. We’re staying here forever. I like you in the Cession.”

Raelle rolled them over, hovering over her, “You sayin’ I’m not always charmin’?”

“I’m saying you are usually snoring at two in the morning.” she wound her arms around Raelle’s neck.

“I don’t snore.”

“Loud. Like a chainsaw. Truck engine. Jet plane.” Scylla teased. 

“Don’ know why I put up with this.”

“You love it.” Scylla scratched the back of her neck soothingly. “And no one else will eat your dad’s pancakes.”

“How’re you still alive?

“I know a fixer.” her lips met Raelle’s.

She was so tired. 

It felt like she could sleep for days.

Her eyes were heavy, held down by invisible weights. 

Her entire body was mud after a fierce spring storm, wet and immoveable.  

Something warm was behind her, around her. It seemed familiar. Nice. Welcomed. Like home.

“Wh...Wha’?” she groaned, unable to lift her arms let alone open her eyes.

Goddess, she just wanted to sleep.

“Raelle?” a tender yet urgent voice broke through the haze. “Raelle?”

She grumbled, barely able to flex her fingers.

Her throat was dry, so dry. Like a burnt out patch of land, nothing but dust and wind. Her mind fought to work. Dull and dazed. 

She wanted to go back to sleep.

“Rae, baby. Can you open your eyes for me? Please? Honey?” a thumb smoothed her scrunched brow, soothing away the wrinkles and lines.

Using every ounce of power she had, Raelle listened to the siren’s call and did as told. 

Odd shapes and blobs floated in her eyesight before fully taking form, “What?”

“Hey, stranger.” Scylla breathed out, pressing her cheek to Raelle’s temple after giving it a quick kiss. She wrapped her arms more firmly around the groggy woman, gulping back the sob that tickled the back of her throat.

“Scyl?” Raelle rasped.

“Yeah, baby.” Scylla kissed her cheek, the top of her head. “I’m right here.”

Raelle blinked. She was in her room. She recognized the messy desk and, on the back of the chair, her holey maroon sweatshirt Scylla liked to steal. The one she snagged from back home that had her old school’s mascot on the chest and supposedly felt like a hug when Scylla wore it. The arms around her felt nice. Safe. Mentally shaking her head, she pushed through the fog. Trudged like a stumbling deer caught in a blizzard. A bird flying in a storm. She was in bed. In Scylla’s arms. The necro was leaned back against the headboard, her chest Raelle’s pillow as her legs cocooned the blonde.

“Hey, shitbird. It’s about time you woke up.” Abigail’s voice called out.

Raelle lazily tilted her head. Abigail and Tally were perched near her side, concerned faces offering friendly smiles. “Abs? Tal?”

“Yeah, Collar.”

“We’re so happy you’re awake.” Tally added, reaching out and placing a hand on Raelle’s knee.

“How long’ve I been asleep?”

“Two days.” Scylla answered, a slight quiver in her voice.

“Necro here hasn’t left your side.” Abigail nodded, “Feel free to hold your breath at the stench.”

“Smells nice.” like the earth as the sun rose after a cooling rain. Raelle’s words made Abigail roll her eyes as Tally’s smile grew.

“Rae,” Tally squeezed her knee, “Do you know what happened?”

“What’d ya mean?”

“The explosion.” Abigail provided.

“Explosi’n?” What were they talking about. What explosion? “I don’...there was...I needed to find Scylla.” Scylla took her hand and gave it a light squeeze, “I...there were orders. About some mission.” she tried to remember. She was so tired. “I told Anacostia and Izadora. We went looking for her...you.” she peeked up at Scylla, who shot her an encouraging smile, “We..you were…”

Fire.

Scylla had been on fire.

Raelle’s breath quickened. Scylla’s face was engulfed in flames. Hot, unrelenting flames. 

“Rae, Rae, baby.” Scylla gripped her hand. She ran her other hand along the fixer’s chest, flattening her palm over her heart. She began to tap a rhythm, “Focus, Raelle. You’re ok. Everyone is ok. Count with me. One. Two. Three.” Her hand beat in time.   

Raelle curled inward, mind darting back and forth.

The feel of Scylla’s hand. 

The fire.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Flames. All consuming flames.

Scylla’s voice. Sweet and strong. 

“One,” Raelle forced her mouth to form the words, her vocal cords to vibrate, “Two. Three.”

“Good. You’re doing good.” Scylla praised, “Four. Five.”

“Four. Five.” Raelle counted along.

Her heart rate began to calm. 

She didn’t feel the burning embers licking her skin. 

She kept counting.

“Good, Rae.” Scylla rubbed her chest, “You’re ok. I’m ok. Can you tell me you’re ok?”

Raelle nodded weakly, “I’m ok.”

“Great. Good.” Scylla kissed the back of her head.

Raelle noticed her friends watching them, Abigail’s face intense yet slightly uncomfortable while Tally looked shaken.

Shame hit her like a brick wall.

As if sensing her mood shift, Scylla poked her, “I love you.” A smirk, “Want to get charged up?”

Abigail rolled her eyes, “Whatever, Necro. Keep it clean. You’re already in bed together. My eyes don’t need to see anything more.”

“Shush, Abi, they’re cute.” Tally winked.

“How,” Raelle cleared her throat, “how am I in my room?”

“You passed out,” Scylla explained, not letting herself remember what it was like watching Raelle collapse, “Anacostia carried you back here. We thought it would be better to bring you here instead of the infirmary. Alder doesn’t know what happened, and it’d look suspicious if you were the only one on Base who wasn’t super healthy.” She didn’t mention that Raelle’s mom was the medic overseeing her recovery.

“We have no idea what happened,” Abigail looked at her, “Tally and I walked in to see you becoming another witchbomb.”

“But, you didn’t explode.” Tally quickly added. “Not really.”

Raelle tried to catch up. Flashes of terror and Scylla holding her hand crashed through her mind.

She tried to piece it together. Tear apart the jumbled mess in her head and have it all make sense. Stitch it back together in some sort of semblance of logic. Structure. Like her grandma’s old quilt.

The quilt tucked around her legs and waist.

Scylla carefully flipped the blonde’s hand over, tracing an S along her palm before pressing their palms together.

Raelle closed her eyes at the touch.

Let herself float in a current of pure affection for a second, only a second.

It all came back, fast and relentless.

Panicking at seeing Scylla.

Needing to help her.

Needing to fix her. Save her.

The power. The electric charge that filled her. 

Scylla.

Feeling her. All of her. Her hopes, dreams, every single emotion and thought becoming her own.

Memories. The first time Scylla saw her and decided to follow her. Dancing at the Bellweather wedding. Kissing in the park, dressed in civilian clothes.

She could’ve sworn she saw her grandmother.

A spark. A flash. 

Feeling as if her spirit was ripped out of her body. Every single molecule sucked out and scattered to the winds.

What the hell had happened?

She tried to reach up to massage her temples, arms shaking, but Scylla beat her to it. She relaxed as small circles were rubbed, a small act against the forming headache.

There was a knock at the door. Without waiting to be allowed entrance, Petra Bellweather strolled in, Izadora a step behind.

“Oh, you’re awake. Excellent.” Petra glanced at Raelle. 

“General, perhaps this can wait.” Izadora stepped around her, “Cpl. Collar, it is good to see you awake.”

“Thanks, Sergeant.” Raelle shifted, sitting up a bit more. She leaned back into Scylla’s chest, head tucked under her chin. Scylla slipped a comforting steady hand over her belly, arms once again holding her close and forming a wordless barrier to the outside world.

"Yes, well, time is of the essence.” Petra nodded, “I trust Cpl. Collar understands the importance of us understanding what happened and our limited amount of time.”

Abigail frowned, “Mom.”

“Abigail, please.” Petra held up a hand, “It is only a matter of time before General Alder discovers your...friend...was involved in this. We can only keep it quiet for so long. We must understand this new….development beforehand, so we can better explain it to her.”

Raelle’s eyebrow ticked up as Scylla stiffened.

“Better explain what, exactly?” Scylla asked. Her blue eyes were hard as stone.

Petra ignored her, “Cpl. Collar...Raelle...you performed quite the Work the other day. I’ve never seen anything similar before.” A light huff, “You healed every single person on this Base. Tiny cuts. Broken bones.” She angled her head, “From my understanding, you have experienced another explosion before. Back in the Tarim Basin.”

“I don’t know what happened.” Raelle shrugged.

“You said the same thing about that incident.” Petra smiled indulgently, “Surely you have some idea.” She began to walk around the bed, exuding power and confidence. 

“General,” Izadora spoke up, “We still do not fully understand what happened in China. I have been working with Cpl. Collar on determining precisely what occurred. This will require time as well.”

“We do not have time.” Petra responded, “Collar obviously understands this.” She looked at Raelle, a flash of concern flickering on her face. She let her voice drop to a soothing cadence, as if Raelle was the only one in the room, the sole focus of a mother’s care, “Raelle, I fully understand all that you have gone through. We have an opportunity here to do something good. You need to trust me. I will help you.”

Raelle didn’t react. She was still looking at Izadora.

Scylla’s eyes widened a fraction. 

She subtly brushed her lips against Raelle’s left ear, “I love you.”

Raelle didn’t reply.

Two days.

It had been two days since they used a patch.

Petra was on her left side. 

Though she spoke clearly...Raelle was still recovering. And, her voice had gone so soft...

Scylla spoke up, covertly tapping Raelle’s left leg, “Raelle doesn’t remember what happened. She only just woke up. Maybe you can speak to your own Intelligence people if you want ideas on how to win your war.”

Petra stared at Raelle, who turned her head to look at her,  “We are in the middle of a war. Any advantage we can devise will help save lives.”

Save lives.

She softened slightly, but her tone still held firm, “General Alder will see this as something to be used immediately. I am on your side.” She glanced at Abigail and Tally before diverting her full attention to Raelle, “Trust me. Same as when you came to me about ,” she briefly glanced at Scylla, “the methods Sarah used to learn about Baylord Auto.”

Scylla scoffed. Trust this woman? She knew her kind. Could read her eyes, see the true meaning behind her words.

This woman was no different than Alder. Than any of the generals. Than the military itself.

Their power came on the backs of the grunts on the ground. She’d just as soon toss Raelle to the front line as Alder would. Was too blinded by propaganda and position to see what the lowly soldiers really went through.

She wasn’t doing this to Raelle. 

“Petra,” Izadora spoke up, “We all want to help win the war. We need time to give you and General Alder the answers, though. I assure you, my soldier is more than willing to do what she can, and we will work on this the moment she is healed. She’s proven her loyalty and her willingness to serve more than once.”

Petra stared at the sergeant. “Izadora, you know what Sarah will do.”

Izadora didn’t back down, “If and when she learns of this, I invite her to speak to me about the soldiers under my command.” Her voice was sturdy, “We need time.”

They needed Petra to buy them time.

“There is only so much I can do. There are eyes everywhere. This event is not easily ignored. Alder will not let this go twice. If Raelle could...”

“Mom,” Abigail piped up before Petra could continue, “you have that meeting with General Alder in ten minutes.”

Petra looked at her. Tally nodded, “About the Camarilla prisoner. She wants a debrief.”

Her two soldiers didn’t blink.

Scylla caught the short glance the friends shared.

“General Alder doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Tally tacked on. “And the more time she has to think about something other than the fight is more time she can think about this.”

“We know your schedule, mom. We made it.” Abigail closed.

“Yes, well,” Petra sighed, “We will continue this later.”

Abigail and Tally jumped to their feet, sharing a look and subtlety directing Petra out of the room.

With a chorus of goodbyes, the door shut behind them.

Izadora paused for a moment before sweeping over to the bed. She touched Raelle’s arm, “It is good to see you awake, Raelle.”

“Good to be awake.” She took a breath, “What’s going to happen?”

Izadora looked pensive, “You did something incredible, Raelle. The power you exuded. The healing capability you showed. It is astounding.” She frowned, “It is something to be controlled, to be understood, for certain. I’d like you to come to my office as soon as you are able so we can further discuss this.”

“Discuss?” Raelle scoffed, “Discuss what? That I’m a bomb?” 

Izadora shook her head, “That you are a fixer. Remember what our objective is? We are studying how to better heal our fellow soldiers. To be more efficient and effective when it comes to fixing. How the necro field and the fixing field can merge.” she smiled at the couple, “I think this may be the breakthrough we have been waiting for.” She patted her arm, “You healed people, Raelle. You didn’t hurt anyone. Don’t forget that.”

With a nod, Izadora turned and left, making sure the door shut solidly behind her.

The room went quiet.

Raelle’s lip trembled, “Congratulations, you’re dating a bomb.”

“You do blow my mind.” Scylla joked, hugging her close.

Raelle coughed out a bitter laugh.

“Together.” Scylla whispered into her hair, “We’re going to figure it out together.”

“What if I hurt you,” she choked out.”What if…”

“You won’t. You heard Izadora. You healed people. You tried to save me.”

Raelle could barely get out the words, “I saw fire.”

“I know.” Scylla rested her forehead against blonde locks.

“I don’t know what to do.” 

“We will figure it out. Then, we’ll take another vacation. Maybe see your dad again. Or go to the beach. Rent a house and lay out in the sand all day, watching the boats float by.”

“Leave my medal on the door?”

“The birds will say our goodbyes.”

Raelle closed her eyes, “I wanted to be ok.”

“You are. We are.” she assured her. 

“I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Rest, Rae.” Scylla rubbed her stomach.

She was so tired. 

The door opened again.

Willa stood, frozen in the frame, package in hand.

Raelle squinted, already half asleep, “Mama?”

The box fell to the floor, the older woman’s feet moving before it even touched the wooden surface. “Raelle.” she dropped to her knees, worried hands touching her arm before cupping her face, eyes dancing around, taking in the red rimmed half-lidded blue orbs and sheen of exhaustion, “Raelle.”

Willa wrapped her arms around Raelle, an uncomfortable Scylla caught in the embrace.

“You’re ok. I didn’t know…” Willa whimpered. She pulled back, cupping Raelle’s face in her hands, “I was so worried, girl. Don’t you ever do anything like that again, you hear me?”

Raelle’s eyelashes fluttered, stunned at the familiar order her mama would say every time Raelle was sat down at the kitchen table after getting into another misadventure.

Raelle couldn’t stop the words from slipping out, “ ‘m tired, Mama.”

Willa’s throat bobbed, “Go on and rest.” She glanced at Scylla, “We’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Raelle couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.

Scylla’s voice lulled her to sleep, “What are you doing, Willa?”

“Taking care of my daughter.”

Next thing Raelle knew, she was dreaming of sunny skies and crystal clear waters.

Chapter Text

Scylla paced back and forth down the empty hallway. 

It was near midnight, most of the Base fast asleep save for the nightly patrols and a few night owls holed up in their barracks playing cards or writing letters. A freshly fallen snow blanketed the campus, untouched and pristine. Icicles graced the edge of the roof and the cold crackled in tiny flakes across the windows.

Scylla barely even noticed.

She tugged the ripped sleeves of the maroon sweatshirt further down her arms, covering her knuckles and only leaving the very ends of her fingers visible. She had flipped the hood up earlier, hiding her dark hair and distraught eyes.

Back and forth, she walked. 

Back and forth.

Why did life have to be so complicated?

Why did it have to be so hard?

So painful?

Why couldn’t they be happy? Weren’t they happy? 

One minute, she was sitting eating burnt pancakes with her girlfriend, laughing at a dumb joke, and the next she’s cradling the same girl in her arms, not knowing if she’ll even wake up.

And now this.

Goddess.

Now this.

She grit her teeth, mind flashing back.

“I don’t know.” Raelle slumped over in the chair, head in her defeated hands. “I don’t know.”

Scylla tenderly ran her hand up Raelle’s spine, rubbing small comforting circles along the tense path before lightly scratching the back of her neck. She massaged the taut muscles, trying to soothe the distressed blonde. Dipping her head, she searched for Raelle’s eyes, brushing a kiss to her temple, “It’s ok, Raelle.”

“It’s not ok!” Raelle’s head jerked up, dislodging Scylla’s hand, “I exploded. Again. I’m a damn bomb!”

“No, you’re not.” Scylla touched her knee.

“I’m not?” Raelle shook her head, “You’re dating someone who will kill you because I can’t....” Her voice broke on the last few syllables. 

Izadora carefully tilted the teapot, fresh hot boiling water pouring in a steady stream into the three mugs on the side table where she stood silently listening. She set the pot down and picked up the first mug, setting it down gently on the desk in front of the distressed soldier.

Izadora glanced at the young necro as she grabbed the other two mugs, setting one before Scylla before taking her own seat, gripping the handle and taking a sip.

“Rae,” Scylla gripped her knee, “stop.”

Raelle shook her head, jumping to her feet and storming to the other end of the office. “Nothing about this is ok!” she whirled around, jabbing a finger into her own chest, “I did this. I don’t even know what this is. I...I lost control and hurt people.”

“You didn’t hurt anyone.” Izadora calmly spoke up.

“Except yourself.” Scylla muttered.

It took a week. An entire week for Raelle to be able to not fall asleep standing up. To even be able to stand. So overcome with exhaustion, it was chilling. Like her spirit was gone. Her essence, her life, sucked out and an empty hole left in its wake. 

Scylla had been so scared. Terrified. 

And, while Raelle recovered, slowly regained her strength, there was Alder. Alder and Bellweather and everyone else who would want to use her girlfriend for whatever plans they had. Not caring if they hurt Raelle or not. Not caring about Raelle at all. 

Raelle - her stupid self-sacraficing idiot of a girlfriend.

Anacostia and Willa had teamed up to run interference, something no one saw coming but was strangely effective. Alder still didn’t know it had been Raelle who caused the healing wave to overtake Fort Salem, and Petra had not made a move to enact some power play. Abigail swore she wouldn’t but Scylla didn’t trust someone with that many stars on their uniform.

It was only a matter of time, though.

Time.

It was infinite, yet there was so little.

And Raelle, Goddess, Raelle.

Scylla clutched at the edges of the sleeves. 

Holding her nearly lifeless body, watching Anacostia carrying her limp form, would haunt her forever.

Hearing her anguished screams.

Watching as she broke down while Scylla desperately hunted for a lighter.

Not being able to help. To do anything but beg and plead that she listen, that she come back from whatever fiery nightmare she lost herself in.

She couldn’t protect her. No matter how hard she tried, she failed.

And now, how long until the generals and their civilian counterparts figured out what Raelle could do?

There was only one way Scylla could think to save her.

It just wasn’t something Raelle would accept.

Digging her nails into her thighs, she offered the only thing she could, “What if we left?”

“What?” Raelle looked at her, confused.

Scylla swallowed, forming her features into an encouraging look, “We could leave right now. Catch the next bus out of Salem. Hitch a ride.”

Raelle’s brows furrowed, “Leave?”

Scylla licked her lips. She thought about it far more than she would admit. The two of them disappearing. Leaving. Never looking back. Sure, they joked about it. Talked about the future where life would be simple and they didn’t have to worry about wars or deployments or dying.

It was all a dream.

There would always be a war.

There would always be another deployment.

Always be death.

“Yes.”

Raelle’s face fell, “Scyl.”

Scylla could hear it in her tone. 

And, it hurt.

She expected it. Should have expected it.

Goddess, but did it hurt.

She knew. She knew Raelle wouldn’t leave. Would never walk away from the army, no matter how much she should. How much Scylla begged and pleaded. 

Her hand flew to her forehead, trembling fingers pressing against the forming headache of doubt and fear. 

Raelle was going to get herself killed. Stupid selfless idiot. 

“They’ll kill you.” Raelle’s voice rang out like a shot.

Scylla’s head whipped back around.

Raelle’s eyes were dark with dread. Despair, “If I leave with you, they will kill you. You’re already on thin ice as it is being Spree. If...I won’t let you do that.”

“I’m not the one in danger, Raelle.” Scylla bit out.

“You would be with me. They’ll kill a dodger. A deserter. You know that better than anyone.”

Scylla felt the jab in her heart.

Raelle took a breath, “I can’t leave. Not...I can’t leave Abigail and Tally. I can’t leave. I have responsibilities.”

“Damn it, Raelle, you have to put yourself first at some point.” Scylla’s voice rose.

“And what? Run around the country? Hiding from the military while abandoning my friends...my duties...while I wait until one day something happens and I fucking explode? No, I’m not going to hurt anyone else because I’m a mess.” 

Scylla didn't know what she would have done if Izadora hadn’t been there, offering tea and steering the conversation back to what happened. Away from dreams of freedom and back to reality.

They could discuss options once they knew what exactly was happening.

All Scylla could do was feel her heart break knowing Raelle wasn’t choosing her. Wasn’t choosing them.

As Izadora stepped to the bookshelf, studying the bindings for the correct tome, Scylla felt a fist on her knee. She glanced over to see Raelle’s hand, the fingers uncurling and a palm facing up at her. 

Asking.

Offering.

Closing her eyes, Scylla placed her hand in Raelle’s, their palms slotting together and fingers tangling.

She bit back a sob as Raelle rubbed her thumb along the back of Scylla’s hand, a silent apology. A plea for understanding. 

“Damn it.” Scylla choked out in the dark. She crossed her arms, shoulders curling in. 

She knew it was a longshot. Knew Raelle wouldn’t...couldn’t leave. 

And, Scylla could only forgive her. Could never stay upset with her.

“Raelle,” Izadora studied her face, “you touched the mycelium.”

“It was one time.” she grumbled.

“One time is enough.” Izadora gave her a look. “You have a connection with it. We determined that is the most likely cause for what happened in the Tarim Basin.” 

“You think it has to do with this, too?”

“You’ve been drawn to the wall since you were assigned to me. You can’t walk by that door without stopping. I’ve found you there almost every day.”

The mycelium. 

Ancient.

Primordial.

A powerful connection, a doorway, a path, to the underworld. To the other side. 

Life becomes death which becomes life again.

Raelle had touched it. Linked with it.

“You did what!” Scylla glared at her girlfriend, eyes narrowed and fury rolling off her in waves

Raelle shrugged, “It wasn’t like I planned to link with it! I was trying to find you!”

“So, you decided to touch the one thing that could possibly kill you?”

“I didn’t know it could kill me!”

“It’s the mycelium, Raelle! You don’t just accidentally touch it.”

“Sometimes you do.”

“No, you don’t! Why would you touch it?”

“Because it wanted me to!”

Scylla paused, leaning against the wall. She burrowed in the hoodie, needing the hug that wearing it felt like.

“The power the mycelium holds,” Izadora frowned, “is immense. Untold. It is strong enough to keep Alder as she is and not be affected at all. The magic that was learned from the Cession, from the tribes, is not something we fully understand. What we do know, is that the power this thing holds is more than one witch can handle.”

“What are you saying?” asked Raelle.

“How many times should you have died?” Izadora asked.

Scylla gulped, a lump forming in her throat as tears burned her eyes. 

Raelle should be dead.

From the salva overdose.

The blade to her heart.

The many times she healed one too many witches, took on their injuries as her own.

The bus explosion. Where she was already dying when she took on enough of Tally’s injuries for the other girl to survive long enough for help to arrive. And then she went to fix Abigail.

Scylla’s lips trembled.

Raelle should be dead.

“The mycelium is keeping me alive?” Raelle frowned.

“I’m not sure that’s it. Not completely. It’s helping.” Izadora scanned the book in front of her before turning and writing a note in her notebook. 

Scylla quickly turned the pages of her own book, taking a moment to glance at a pile of reports on the mycelium before returning her attention to the creased pages. 

It took them hours, the entire day, but when the idea was spoken out loud…

“Power.”

“What?” Raelle blinked.

Scylla looked at her old teacher.

“The mycelium is power. You linked with it. It’s sharing its power with you. When you go to heal, you are giving part of yourself, your life force, to those you cure. Working outside of canon.” Izadora hypothesized, “You have given so much of your life force you should have died more than once. But...the mycelium…”

“Is giving you power to share.” Scylla finished for her. “When you give your life force, it helps fill the void. Provides you more to give.”

Izadora nodded.

Raelle pursed her lips, “So, I’m immortal? I can just keep giving this other force?”

“No,” Izadora shook her head, “You are still human. Flesh and blood. Your body can only handle so much.”

“It’s why you were so tired after the...thing.” Scylla finished. “You gave your life force to heal everyone...and you almost gave all of it.”

“But, I didn’t.”

Izadora looked at Scylla, but she already knew.

She knew.

“I helped.”

Izadora nodded, “An anchor. A conduit. The exchange of power between Raelle and the mycelium is wild. Uncontrolled. Sometimes, it’s small enough to not matter. But, this time, it wasn’t. If you weren’t there, Scylla, I can’t say what would have happened.”

“You would have died.” Scylla felt the floor drop out from underneath her. “Raelle would have died.”

“You linked with her. You allowed her to, in a way, start to control this uncontrolled power. You both have so much power.” A miniscule shrug, “You saved her.”

Scylla turned around, head down as she marched back down the lonely hallway.

“What are you going to do, Raelle?” Scylla shouted, racing alongside the other woman as she stormed down the hallway, the fluorescent lights flickering above them, “Get yourself killed?” She grabbed Raelle’s elbow, spinning her around to a halt, “You know better than to walk away from me.”

“I’m not walking away from you.” Raelle’s eyes blazed.

“No?” Scylla glared, “What then? What are you doing?”

“I don’t know, Scyl!”

“Then, stop and be here with me.” Scylla cried out, “Stop running from this.”

“I’m not running.”

Scylla shook her head, “You are not leaving me, Raelle, and you are not letting them kill you.” Raelle opened her mouth to reply, but Scylla kept going, “The second they know what you can do, they will use you. They will use you until you’re dead. You’ll be deployed over and over and they’ll make you give and give until you don’t have any power left. Any...life left inside of you. This is just like before. The only difference is you have the damn mycelium allowing you to heal more people as you die.”

“They’ll find out, Scyl. There’s no way they won’t. Alder. The Spree. Anyone. I’m not...I can’t...I’m a fixer, Scyl.”

“Then, let me help you.”

“And have you die with me? Have you get hurt? Scylla, you’re not even in the army anymore.”

“I’m not letting you deal with this alone.”

“If Izadora is right. If...I’m some weird messed up power surge...I’ll hurt you. I’m not going to hurt you because I don’t know how to control this.”

“That’s the point! I can help you. Together. We can learn to control this together.”

 “Alder will kill you. The military...you’re Spree, Scyl.” Tears coated her words, “You’re a traitor. No one is going to let you do this. The second the Camarilla are gone, you’re gone too.”

“You’re not leaving me, Rae. I won't let you. You promised to not walk away from me. You promised to come back. Always.” She grabbed the front of her shirt, cotton and the medal underneath twisting in her grip, “I’m helping you. And, I’m not letting you die because you think you can be a hero and keep everyone else safe.”  

“Maybe,” Raelle kept breaking her heart, “maybe this is all I was ever going to be, Scyl. No matter what I thought or tried. A Cession always ends up on the front lines. Alway dies quick. It was stupid to think I wasn’t going to.”

Scylla sucked in a haggard breath, her head and heart aching.

Raelle paused in front of a closed door.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was behind it. Even if Scylla hadn’t already known, she could have figured it out quickly.

“Please, Rae.” Scylla touched her lower back, “I love you. I know you want to help. You...you can’t stop it. Your first thought is to help. You don’t even think.” She stepped closer, pressing against her back, “I love that you are so brave. I love that you care so much. I need you to love me enough to listen to me right now. We aren’t sure what’s happening. Not yet. But, if this is true. If you have this power, it’s yours. You can help people. But, not if it takes you away from me.” She leaned her head against the middle of her back, “You have a job. You go to work and you come home. If I can help you control this, then I am going to help you. We can do this. But, you made promises to me. I’m holding you to them, Collar. All of them.”

Scylla stopped in front of the phone. 

She stared at it.

She couldn’t do this.

She shouldn’t do this.

It wouldn't help.

He probably didn’t even mean it.

Traitorous fingers shoved into her jeans’ pocket and pulled out a crumpled ball of paper. Unwrapping it, she hesitantly lifted the receiver and held it to her ear as she dialed.

It smelt like sweat and bleach.

The dull ring blared in her ear like a foghorn.

“Hello.”

She harshly wiped at her wet face, “Hi...Mr. Collar?”

A pause. Then, “Scylla?”

“Yes.”

A chuckle, “Now, what did I say about that mister stuff? Jus’ because you’re back up with those fancy ol’ brick buildings doesn’ mean you don’ call me Edwin.”

She giggled wetly, “Hi Edwin.”

“How’s my girl’s girl doin’?”

She sniffled, hold on the receiver almost painful, “Ok.”

He sighed, “Alright, what’s my kid done now?”

She swiped at her eyes, “Edwin…”

“Let me hear it. I swear, that girl sometimes don’ know up from down.”

“Life has been...difficult, lately. That’s all.”

He hummed, “Well, I can understand that. Life ain’t no picnic.” His voice softened, “I’ll tell you what my kid knows. What you need to know. Us Collars...we’re for life. Once a Collar, always a Collar. Whether my kid has made it official or not, you’re a Collar now. You’re one of us. So, whatever is bein’ difficult for ya, remember you’re a Collar, and we fix things. We stick around. I’m here for you. Raelle is here for you. She loves you. Any fool can see that. She won’t leave you. You got yourself a lifetime of this. So, whatever you’re doin, ya’ll will figure it out.”

She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood as she worked to hold in the sob. Pulling the receiver away from her face, she took a calming breath, mentally yelling at herself to not cry. 

“Scylla? Kid?”

“I love your daughter.”

“I know that. You two kids are a good fit. You take care of each other. You even got that damn toaster to work.”

“Why didn’t you run?” she blurted out.

“What?”

She couldn’t stop herself, “Willa...your wife...Raelle’s mom...she was deployed a lot.”

He hummed in agreement.

“Why didn’t you run?”

“Become a dodger?” he asked.

She silently nodded.

“We thought about it.” he revealed. “Rae was young, though, and we just thought it wasn’t worth it for us. No disrespect to those who do, but it’s a tough life. Most people didn’t understand us. A civilian and a witch? That ain’t right. Them having a kid? Some folks treated Raelle worse than the mud on their boot. Not everyone, though. Some folks understood. Or didn’t care. And, we have roots here. Been here since before the Cession was even the Cession. We didn’t want to take her away from that.”

His voice cracked a bit as he continued, “Raelle don’ say it, but her mama was her hero. Looked up to her like she walked on water. Wanted to be jus’ like her. Before...before Willa died, she was lookin’ forward to joinin’. She wasn’ crazy about it, but she accepted it. Didn’ mind. She was goin’ to be a medic like her mama and fix people. It’s in her blood. She knew the army isn’t perfect. It was because of the army her mama was always gone. And, we never told her the army was easy. She knew it would be tough. And, you know my kid, she’s a rambunctious one. Ain’t never met authority she won’t fight against. But, she could fix people like her mama. Maybe even serve with her. After...when we got Willa’s flag, she changed. The army was a death sentence. It took her mama...and it was going to take her, too. I knew it.” 

Scylla could hear the tears in his throat as he cleared it.

“She met you, Scylla, and she’s here. She’s fixin’ folks and doin’ what she can to live her life. I know she’s ok because I know she met you. She’d be a fool to let that go, and I know my kid. She’s crazy, but she ain’t no fool.”

“Ed,”

“She took her grandma’s thing up there with her. That’s all I need to know. So, lean on her if you need to. She’ll catch you every time. And, if she can’t? She’ll be there to fix it. Ok?”

She forced her voice to not quiver, “Ok.”

“Good,” he shuffled around, “now, I think it’s late there. You best head to bed.”

“Thanks, Ed.”

“No thanks needed. I’m glad you called.”

She hung up; pressed her fist to her mouth to muffle the sobs.

Scylla gently shut the door behind her. She turned around expecting Raelle to be fast asleep, a lump under the covers.

Instead, her heart stopped.

Raelle was sitting up, back to her as she stared out the window.

“Rae? Baby?” Had she had a nightmare? Had something happened while she was gone?

Raelle bent her head, fiddling with something in her hands. 

Scylla approached slowly, “Rae?” What was wrong? What had she missed?

She watched Raelle slip the chain of her medal over her head as she stood up. A flash of something, maybe a small box, caught her eye before it disappeared in the deep pocket of her sweatpants. Facing Scylla, the stars reflected off of a beseeching face, “Can we go for a walk?”

Chapter Text

The once pristine coat of white that blanketed the grounds of Fort Salem was now littered with footsteps. Boot and tire track markings that blended into grey slush and blocks of opaque ice. The infirmary was shrouded in icicles and clumps of dirty snow. The brown, almost black, earth threaded through to turn the hard packed frozen crystals into an unhappy mess pushed up against the brick walls. 

Raelle huddled near the entrance, blue eyes taking in the cloudless morning sky. She kicked at a patch of ice. The toe of her boot broke it into tiny chunks, and she knocked one a few inches away. Her gloved hands rubbed together, more for comfort than warmth. Her thumb pushed into the heel of her left palm, unconsciously massaging the leather covered skin.

Nerves danced up and down her spine, like tiny electric charges sparking at each vertebrate. She wanted, needed, to move. To let the energy that buzzed within her out. She felt like she could run for miles and never let up. Never even slow down. 

But, she stayed put.

She was there for a reason.

Scylla’s face, sleepily smiling at her as they laid in bed together, flashed in her mind. The feel of her arms around her, the gentle puff of her breath on her chest, the way her nose nuzzled into her neck.

Raelle shuffled her feet, half cold and half impatient.

She had a reason to be there, and she couldn’t even bring herself to wonder if it was the right choice.

If she was doing the right thing.

Because, at the end of the day, she would do whatever it took. This included.

The door swung open, causing Raelle to twist and stare up at the passageway.

Willa, shrugging her heavy brown coat on, paused at the sight of her daughter. “Raelle?”

Raelle straightened her posture, hands falling to her sides, fingertips brushing her scourge. She took a deep breath, pulling her shoulders back and steeling herself, “Can we talk?”

Willa blinked, taken aback by the sudden appearance and unexpected request. “Yes, of course.” She offered a tremulous smile as she stepped toward her. Before she could say anything more, Raelle nodded and turned, beginning to walk away from the building. 

Raelle kept her eyes forward as they walked, not letting herself look over at the woman who fixed her knees when she skinned them exploring the fields near her home or hugged her goodbye before leaving on another deployment.

The woman whose final hug before her last deployment seemed to go on forever.

She knew she was leaving back then. That she wasn’t coming back.

Raelle bit her lip, not allowing herself to feel the jolt of pain the realization sent straight to her heart every time she thought of it. 

Didn’t allow herself to think of, half asleep and barely aware of anything around her, how Willa hugged her for the first time since that final goodbye. How it felt to have her mama’s arms around her once more. The comfort it brought. The sense of ease. That everything would be alright, because her mama was there and her parents could always make everything better. 

How much she wanted that to be true. To go back to a time when her mama’s smile and soothing voice could chase away all the monsters and make her believe that she could be something special.

That the world wasn’t a giant scary place.

That her mama loved her and her dad and they were a family, no matter what.

Once a Collar, always a Collar.

“Raelle, what’s going on?” Willa finally asked as they turned a corner, the infirmary bobbing out of sight. 

Raelle didn’t answer.

Huffing, Willa’s voice grew more firm, frustrated, “Raelle, what is…”

Spinning to a stop, Raelle cut her off, “Scylla is Spree.”

Willa stopped. Her brow furrowed in confusion, “Yes.”

Raelle glanced around, body vibrating with barely controlled anxiety. Her jaw worked as she searched for the words to say, to actually voice what was troubling her. Had been troubling her, “You said she isn’t safe. We’re not safe.”

Willa’s face changed as she started to understand.

“I love her.” Raelle admitted. “I love her more than anything.”

Willa’s shoulders dropped, “Raelle,”

“And I need her to be safe. I…” her voice cracked, and she grew quiet, battling to block her emotions from tumbling out in a jumbled mess. “You said we’d be treated differently. Like you and Pop. That they’ll go after Scylla because she’s Spree. After this is over, they’ll come for her.” 

“What are you asking me?”

Raelle stared her straight in the eye, “I need you to protect Scylla. No matter what happens. I need you to promise me you’ll help her. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Willa sighed. “I can’t promise that.”

“Yes, you can.” Raelle sniffed angrily, “You know people. Places. You were able to get out of Liberia without anyone knowing. Hide away for years.”

That wasn’t exactly true, “I understand you care about her…”

“I have grandma’s ring.” 

Willa went silent. The weight of the statement, it’s implications, palpable.

Raelle shifted on her feet, “You hurt me. You left me.” Her voice shook, “And, I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that. For what you did to Pop.” She swallowed thickly, “I shouldn’t trust you. You lied for so long about...everything.” She exhaled, “But, I need your help.”

Willa studied her face, “You want to run.”

A bitter scoff, “I’m not like you.”

Willa frowned, trying to take this in, “If you join the Spree,”

“I’m not joining you. I’m not joining the Spree.” Raelle spoke firmly. “I’m asking my mama that...if something happens...she protects the woman I love the same way she used to protect me.”

Willa shook her head, “If you stay here, with the army, there’s nothing for you, Raelle. These people will kill you. You have a stubborn streak a mile wide within you, girl, and you’re as headstrong as a horse, but you do know that. The longer you stay, the worse it will be for you and Scylla.” She reached out, hesitating as Raelle leaned away, “I can get you out of here right now. Somewhere safe.”

Somewhere safe.

Where was safe?

“I took an oath.” Raelle moved back a step, “That might not matter to you, but it does to me.”

“An oath to a military that doesn’t care if you live or die.” 

“There are people here who do. And, I’m not leaving them if I don’t have to. If I can...control this, I can help people. Help my Unit.” If she could control this new power, control her life, she could do something. Something...good. 

“You’ll be deployed. Once you graduate War College, if not before. You can’t save everyone on the front lines. You’ll be separated from your Unit.”

“I can try.” she licked her lips, “I’m Intelligence now. I might not even be deployed.” Petra was very likely to pull strings and keep her daughter from seeing actual combat ever again. Abigail would fight to keep Tally with her. Raelle knew Izadora was working to keep her on Base.

Everyone was.

Raelle looked at her friends. Her sisters. 

Abigail sighed, but her eyes were clear and voice strong, “We’re with you, Rae. We got your back.”

Tally nodded, smiling gently as she reached for a hug, “We can even bunk together again.”

“Tally, no.”

“Why would they keep a combat experienced medic on Base? One who has been through War College and has proven more than once to perform bravely in high stress situations?”

“I’m deaf.” Raelle’s hand trembled as she admitted it, “they don’t know yet. But, they won’t deploy someone who can’t even hear out of their left ear.” Her hands shook harder, “I can’t be around fire. I have...moments...and I don’t know when they’ll happen. I’m a danger out there.” If Abigail or Tally were deployed, she would go with them. If it was really needed, she would drop in wherever she could help.

But, she wasn’t right.

She was messed up.

She made her choice.

She didn't want to hurt anyone.

She didn't want to hurt Scylla.

She wasn’t going to hurt Scylla.

She didn't want to hurt.

Goddess she didn't want to hurt. Didn't want to feel the flames on her hands and smell the smoke in the air. Didn't want to see one more tear threatening to fall from Scylla's eyes. The look shock and worry on her friends' faces as they bled on the battlefield.

“What happens when Alder finds out you were the one who caused the healing incident? What happens when Petra Bellweather sees her chance to take over and uses you as the way to do so? Raelle, they won’t keep you as a Fixer in the infirmary or some junior officer to the Necro teacher. It doesn’t matter if you’re deaf or blind. They will deploy you to the worst battle zones, and they will do whatever it takes to Scylla to get you to cooperate. They tortured her before. They are not afraid to kill her to keep you in line or make an example. If they don’t, they will not support you being with a traitor. They will see you as a tool to be used until broken, then they will toss you in the trash. Whatever time you have now will end. What then?” 

Raelle stood next to Abigail, silently offering her thanks as they waited.

Abigail wordlessly accepted it with a short understanding nod. 

The snow crunched as two figures emerged from the other side of the tree.

Raelle lowered her voice, “There’s a guy called Adil. If something happens, I need you to get Scylla and find him and his sister. They’ll know what to do from there.”

Willa didn’t speak. Finally, after a minute, she nodded in resignation “I hope you know what you’re doing, girl. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

“Great.” Raelle ducked her head, “I should go.”

She didn’t move. 

Both stood there.

After a few moments, Willa nodded to herself and took a step away. “I love you, Raelle.”

Raelle’s hand shot out, grasping her wrist.

The mother froze.

Raelle’s jaw quivered.

Feeling tears sting her eyes, Willa patted her hand.

Raelle choked out a laugh when Willa said sadly, “You’ll tell me when you give her the ring?”

The younger woman nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

“Scylla Ramshorn, huh?”

“I called her beautiful, and she never let me go. She makes me want a future. Believe I can have it.”

“I’ll keep Petra in line.” She was a general, but she was also a mother.

“Thanks, Mama.” 

Willa’s breath caught in her throat. She blinked back the tear that formed in the corner of her eye, “You’re welcome, Rae.”

With that, Willa drew away, and Raelle let her.

Scylla stepped out of Izadora’s office and strolled down the hallway. Her former instructor had to go teach a class, and Scylla needed to find Anacostia to talk about next steps.

Steps toward Raelle and her learning and controlling this new power.

Steps toward their future.

Scylla slowed to a stop, hands instantly going to her knees as Anacostia bounced on the balls of her feet like they hadn't just jogged across sleek snow and ice covered paths. Snow glittered in Scylla’s hair, and her breath came out in short white puffs.

“Getting better, Ramshorn. Five miles. Better than some of my units.” Anacostia kicked her leg back, grasping her ankle and stretching.

“One of your soldiers has helped me with my stamina.”

Anacostia’s look was enough.

Finally catching her breath, thighs burning, Scylla glanced around before speaking, “Raelle won’t leave.”

The sergeant’s eyebrow shot up.

“There’s still a lot for her...us...to learn here. To train on.” Scylla licked her lips, intent in her words, “She’s not fit for combat, though.”

“Soldiers not fit for full active duty can be reassigned to non deployment positions.” She gave her a hard look, “Recommendations and assignments can be overridden by a general.”

Scylla didn’t flinch, “Interesting that we happen to know one.” She stretched her arm across her chest.

“General Alder can overturn any decision.”

“I’ve heard the west coast is a great place to move to. Clear ocean waters. Big forests. Sunny skies. You can lose yourself in the beauty of it all.”

Anacostia dipped her head, “We should head back. I have an early meeting with General Bellweather.”

Her parents had plotted a way west through the Cession before they were killed. Scylla knew the path by heart.

Tally liked to talk about how nice California was in the springtime.

Tucking her hands in her pockets, coat hanging over an arm, she meandered past youthful cadets slipping into class, eager to hear what their teachers would impart on them that lesson.

She could remember being like that. Excited to learn what she could about necromancy. Fascinated, drawn to, the seeds and methods that allowed them to connect with something so...pure. So majestic. So misunderstood.

Something she shared with her mother.

Something that let her keep a connection, however tenuous, with her parents.

Turning a corner, she glanced up to see Raelle strutting purposefully toward her.

Goddess, even in the regulation uniform, hair damp from melting snow and collar awkwardly flipped from when she must have taken off her outer coat, she made Scylla’s heart skip a beat.

It had been a few days since her phone call with Edwin. Since they started to figure out what was happening with Raelle. Since Raelle and her took a walk around the grounds and Raelle told her that she loved her.

That she was choosing her.

Looking into Scylla's eyes, it wasn't even a choice at all.

Not anymore, if it ever really had been.

The night they began to consider options.

Together.

Opening her mouth to greet the blonde, her brow twitched at the determined face and quick stride. “Rae…”

Calloused hands cupped her face and dragged her into a searing kiss that stole the words from her mouth and made her see stars.

An involuntary moan rolled from her lips as a mouth, hot and insistent, claimed hers. 

Goddess.

Her knees grew weak. Coat dropping, she flung her arms around lithe shoulders, holding on and urging her closer. Hungry lips slanted further against hers, and it was all she could do to kiss her back, accept a questing tongue and meet it with her own.

Her body was on fire. Her insides blazing a trail where molten heat flared between her legs.

Unsteady hands grasped at Raelle, snagging on the bars stitched to her shoulders. She gasped for air and sanity as Raelle broke away, teeth immediately attaching to her throat. Licking and nipping the tender flesh. Biting down on her pulse point before teasing the mark with a soothing tongue. Hands slid down, ghosting over her breasts before curling around her hips. 

Scylla’s eyes squeezed shut so tight she saw galaxies. 

Her feet stumbled backwards, strong arms holding her against a hypnotic body. She didn’t notice anything except for the fingers digging into her waist and the scrape of teeth against her skin until something solid connected with her back.

The door to the classroom slammed closed, Scylla pushed against the sturdy wood. Raelle pressed into her, just as solid as the door. Fingers tickled her hipbones before moving up...up...up, dragging her shirt along with it. She shivered as short nails scratched a path along her sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as her shirt lifted. She wordlessly raised her arms, letting the shirt slip over her head and be tossed aside.

“Rae,” Scylla gasped as the other girl sucked on the patch of skin right below her ear. She cupped the back of her head, other hand flung around the back of Raelle’s shoulders. 

Her hips jerked as hands snagged her belt buckle. 

Head tilting back, Scylla fought to breathe. Every nerve ending was on fire, her body feeling like it could explode. She massaged Raelle’s scalp, fingers digging in as her belt gave way. “Baby,”

Raelle tasted the curve of her ear. Voice, husky and dripping with want, whispered, “Ok?”

Scylla nodded, not able to form words. Her hand on Raelle’s shoulder shook as her pants and underwear were striped down, pooling at her knees.

Her muscles twitched and hips bucked as teasing fingers swiped along her bare belly. 

Her mouth and legs fell open as they dipped lower.

Her breaths came out in short shallow pants as she felt the first touch against her already slick folds. 

Realle’s forehead rested against her own, mouth so close to hers she breathed in every gasp, every silent plea.

“You’re so beautiful,” she heard as Raelle entered her.

Fuck.

“Rae,” she kissed her, sloppy and wet, overcome by the intoxicating closeness of her lover.

The pace was steady, short hard thrusts as they moved together. 

Scylla forced her eyes open, staring into startling blue. 

Staring into love.

The love she felt with each stroke. Each touch. 

The want.

The need.

The feel of Raelle inside her, a part of her, was so much. It was everything. 

It felt so good.

She felt so damn good.

Pleasure dipped and crested like waves in the ocean.

“I love you,” she got out breathlessly, feeling a tightening in her lower belly.

She let her hand drift down Raelle’s back, mindlessly grasping at her side. Raelle reached for it, forcefully shoving it against the door. Her hold loosened with the next thrust, left palm sliding against Scylla’s right.

A blue grey flash sparked between their hands.

Sparked in Raelle’s eyes.

The ocean turned into a tsunami. A hurricane. Unrelenting and fierce.

Scylla’s body quaked, knees fully collapsing as the storm overtook her. She rocked into the final few thrusts, mind lost in the crashing waves that whipped through her.

As she slowly drifted back to land, she felt Raelle pressing delicate kisses against her face as she carefully pulled out. Scylla squeezed her hand, breathing deeply against the tremors. She let the hand tangled in Raelle’s hair float down, tripping along the nape of her neck. 

Raelle tucked her head in the crook of Scylla’s neck, breathing her in. Scylla kissed the side of her head, mind still half caught in the typhoon of slick heat and nimble fingers. She massaged Raelle’s neck, “Baby.”

“I love you.” Raelle murmured, voice muffled.

“Love you, too.” Scylla licked her lips. She took an extra breath before continuing with a lighter tone, “Did you miss me?”

“Always,” Raelle slowly lifted her head, angling it to rest against Scylla’s temple, “Let’s go to the beach.”

Scylla blinked, “Raelle?”

“When the snow melts. When this war is over. Let’s go to the beach.” 

“Ok,” she closed her eyes, “Let’s go to the beach.”

“This will work.” an almost imperceptible waiver of doubt.

“This will work.” Scylla confirmed. She smirked, “Anacostia said you’ll bring a whole new meaning to base brat.”

“She did not.” Raelle snorted.

Scylla hummed.

Pulling away slightly, Raelle bent her head, placing a tender kiss to Scylla’s sternum before shucking off her jacket and draping it over her, “Jeez, Scyl, it’s cold out. Put some clothes on.”

Scylla caught her wrist as she moved to step away. Serious eyes noted the flecks of worry in the blue orbs, “This will work.” she reassured. She squeezed gently, “Together, right?”

Raelle grinned softly, “Yeah, together.

Scylla let her go, stooping down to pull up her pants as Raelle picked up her shirt, “You’re sexy as hell when you need a charge.” 

Raelle rolled her eyes at the teasing tone, “Thought you were the one needing it, since you’re running so much now.”

“Aww, I’m sorry I wasn’t back when you woke up.” Scylla accepted her shirt, tossing it back on. She kissed her cheek.

“You should be.” Raelle smiled as Scylla dove in for another quick peck. 

“See you for dinner?”

Raelle hooked a hand around her waist before she could leave, “I love you.”

Scylla smiled, “Base brat.”

She wiggled her eyebrows, “Guess you better punish me.” 

“After dinner. Don’t let Izadora slice your throat in front of another class.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

"You always have a choice." words somber, referring to more than assisting in training.

Raelle understood. "Sometimes things are just the way they are. No changing it. Just might take a while to fully see it." a shrug, "You have a choice, too. But, I'm not going to act like being with you isn't the only choice I'm ever gonna make. That I ever could make. It's you, Scyl. You're it. No choosing or changing that." A small breath, "Just remember, you're working on staying. But, if you go running, you take me with you." 

If I do get the urge to run, I'll take you with me.

I'm a dodger, which means no attachments, because things go away, we go away. I haven't learned to get past this, but I'm trying.

Scylla searched her eyes. Overcome by the truth, she pulled Raelle into a hug, smile pressing into her shoulder as they held each other.

Chapter Text

“Don’t be so grumpy.” Scylla cooed, lightly pecking pouty lips.

“I’m not grumpy.” Raelle rolled her eyes but accepted another kiss.

Scylla’s raised eyebrows did not buy that statement.

A gentle snow floated down from a sunny afternoon sky. Warm golden rays filtered through the branches of the large oak tree, causing the ground to sparkle as if it were filled with thousands of glittering stars in the twinkling night sky. 

Scylla leaned further into Raelle, the blonde resting her back against the rigid bark of the wide tree trunk. Scylla fit perfectly between her arms, one spot Raelle would always welcome her to and Scylla would always seek out.

“Hmmm,” Scylla hummed, playfully tugging at the collar of Raelle’s coat before smoothing it down, “It’s ok. I heard you didn’t get much sleep last night.” 

Raelle kissed the wicked smirk, “Shut up.”

Scylla snickered, “I’m sorry, baby.” She brushed her lips against her cheek, “I take full responsibility.” A kiss on her chin, “For making you so sleepy.” A quick kiss to her lips, “I only wanted to help you do well in your classes today.” The smirk was back, “You seem to perform best with a little...encouragement.”

“Encouragement?” Raelle wrapped her arms more fully around the svelte frame, “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“You should be thanking me.”

“Thought I did that all last night.” 

Scylla cupped her cheek, thumb tracing the white line that adorned cool flesh. She stared into peaceful blue. Her breath caught in her chest as if it were the first time she looked into those eyes. 

It amazed her how, even after all this time, she could still lose her breath just by looking at Raelle.

Inhaling the scent of pine and earth, she guided their foreheads together. Her eyes slid closed as she let herself just...feel.

This girl could make her feel so much. More than anyone else ever had. Ever would.

Right here, huddled against their tree, loving arms holding her close, Scylla never felt more safe.

“I love you.” fell from her lips before she even recognized she was making a sound.

She could feel Raelle’s grin, “I love you, too.”  

Taking a deep breath, not wanting to disturb the calm moment they’d found amidst the ongoing chaos and constant confusion and worry, but knowing she needed to, Scylla asked the question that had been on her mind for a little while, “How are things with your mom?”

Raelle stiffened, only relaxing a fraction when Scylla kissed the tip of her chin and rubbed her side. “Fine.”

“Rae,”

“I don’t want to talk about her. I don’t…” she trailed off in frustration.

Sensing the turmoil just below the surface, Scylla knew Raelle would willingly live the rest of her life not thinking or talking about her mom. Just like she would do for a number of other issues that plagued her mind and soul. Scylla also knew Raelle needed to talk about them. Think about them. She couldn’t ignore the pain and conflict forever. She wasn’t built that way. It would either come out in a safe spot with Scylla holding her or in a not so safe spot, such as a battleground where uncontrolled emotions could lead to death.

Raelle might not be deployed now, but that didn’t mean her pent up anger and sadness couldn’t get her in trouble.

Get her hurt.

“I know.” Scylla soothed, “But, I’m here. I’m with you.”

A sniff, “I know.”

“You can tell me anything, whenever you want.”

Raelle’s head dropped, and she leaned against Scylla’s chest. The brunette wrapped her arms around her, hoping her embrace could say everything she wasn’t, offer everything she felt in her heart.

“She’s always there.” Raelle finally whispered.

Scylla stroked her back, silently letting her know she was there. 

“She’s right there. Absolutely fine. But, we buried her. Pop and me. We buried her and got a stupid flag and she’s right there, Scyl. Like...like she never left. Like she just got lost goin’ to the store one day and came back a little late.”

Scylla kissed the top of her head, understanding what Raelle wasn’t saying, “You miss her.”

Raelle defiantly shook her head, but no words came out.

“It’s ok to miss her.” Scylla whispered. “She’s your mom.” While Scylla would do anything to protect Raelle, was still livid at what Willa had put her through, was continuing to put her and Ed through, she also understood what it was like to lose a parent. She would give almost anything to have her parents alive and by her side right now. 

They would have loved Raelle. Thought she was a bit of a scoundrel, all rebellion and brash confidence, but they would see the sweetheart underneath the rumpled barely passing inspection uniform. 

And, seeing Willa try to care for her ailing daughter after the healing explosion, see her brush the hair so gently off Raelle’s forehead and clearly want to hug her so badly she visibly shook, Scylla couldn’t deny that some part of Raelle’s mother existed and cared about her child.

“It’s up to you. I will be with you no matter what you do.” Scylla continued. “I know you love her. You’re loyal and caring and wonderful like that. People hurt you, and you still love them. If you want to talk to her about what happened, I’ll help you however I can. If you don’t, you’ll never have to see her again.”

“She wants me to become Spree. Leave and join her.” 

Scylla bit her lip. She wanted to scoff. As if Raelle would leave and become Spree. But, she couldn’t help the tiny part of her that wondered what it would be like. If Raelle had agreed...if she’d even just chosen to leave, Spree or no Spree…

“Is that all she wants me for?” Raelle went on, “She left and came back only for the Spree?”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Raelle’s head popped up, “I can't just leave. Why can't she get that?”

“She cares about you.” 

Raelle softened, “I know I made you stay.”

“Rae, no.” She pressed a finger to Raelle’s lips, stopping her from speaking, “We decided together to try this. You stay on base.You stay safe. I’m with you because I want to be wherever you are. I go where you go, remember? And, we’re not letting you get deployed. We are going to be happy, just like we discussed.”

Raelle nodded.

“We’re both sticking around, Collar.”

“Yes, ma’am. Understood.”

Scylla rolled her eyes, ducking her head and pressing a warm kiss to the side of Raelle’s throat.

Raelle’s fingers snuck down, splaying across her lower back, “Tell me about your day? I like hearing you talk.”

“Anacostia woke me up at the crack of dawn and forced me to leave my gorgeous girlfriend alone in bed.”

“Terrible. Absolutely terrible. She should be court marshaled.” 

The crunch of boots on snow broke the calm reverie around them. Blinking, Scylla turned her head to glance over her shoulder.

Anacostia and Izadora were a little ways away, serious looks on their faces as they spoke to General Alder, the leader surrounded by her biddies and a few other officers.

She frowned, watching the intense exchange. Anacostia did not look happy, and Izadora was not masking her concern very well, either.

“What’s that?” Raelle asked, following her gaze.

“I don’t know.” After a few more seconds of dower exchange, Alder marched off, biddies and officers tripping after her.

Anacostia and Izadora shared a frustrated look before turning toward the opposite direction. As they approached, their journey leading them past the tree, Scylla felt a hand slide into her own and squeeze before Raelle was pulling her along, “Sgt. L’Amara!”

The two older women stopped, eyes on the couple, “What is it, Collar?” Asked Anacostia.

Raelle lifted her chin, “What was that?”

“None of your concern, Corporal.” Anacostia answered firmly.

Scylla did not like that answer.

Not at all.

Neither did Raelle, “What did Alder want?”

“I said, it is none of your concern.”

“As Sgt. L’Amara’s assisting officer,” Scylla spoke up, “it may be smart to have her know what her CO is doing, including conversations with leadership.” Scylla shrugged, “She needs to be aware of those things to be able to perform her duties.”

The memory of Raelle bursting through a door, on a mission to find Scylla because she read reports about a mission few knew about, tickled the back of her brain.

Scylla didn’t even need to glance over to know the look Anacostia gave her.

“Is it to do with Abigail or Tally? Scylla?” Raelle tacked on.

“No,” Anacostia sighed, sharing a look with Izadora, “we recently captured another Camarilla prisoner. Unfortunately, he died before we could question him.”

Scylla briefly wondered if it was by his own hand or an interrogator.

“Was he important?” asked Raelle.

Izadora’s dark eyes took in the two women before speaking, causing Anacostia to sigh again, “We believe he knows a lot of information about the Camarilla’s workings. Enough to provide us with what we need to plan and execute a full assault to render them useless here in the United States.”

There was something she wasn’t saying. Scylla could feel it. See the flicker in her eyes. It was why Anacostia wasn’t telling them anything.

“When did he die?” Scylla asked.

“A few hours ago.”

The timeframe to speak with him was closing fast. “Alder wants you to speak with him. Wake him up.” Like they had done to Porter.

Izadora nodded.

“Wake him up?” Raelle looked between the two necros.

“We can speak with the dead, but it is only for a short period of time and requires immense energy and power. We needed the power of Beltane to perform something similar.” Izadora explained.

“It’s a lost opportunity, that’s all.” Anacostia jumped in, arms crossed. 

She was not happy.

Scylla was growing more confused. 

She had never seen both of them look so upset before. Except…

“You said he knows a lot.” She licked her lips, “Enough to help us win.”

“We’ll never know for sure.” Izadora cautioned, “But yes, Intelligence believes he could lead us to where the Camarilla are located throughout the country. Their plans. Their communication methods. All of it. General Alder would like us to get that information, but it’s not possible now.”

“What else?”

Anacostia frowned harder as Izadora’s brows pinched.

“Scyl?” Raelle’s shoulder pressed into her own.

“What. Else?” Scylla spoke clearly.

There was more.

She knew there was more.

Something else they weren’t saying, were hiding.

Anacostia shook her head as Izadora replied, “We believe he is the one who planted the bomb that blew up the Salem transport last spring.”

Salem transport?

Scylla’s heart stopped.

The world narrowed to a thin black tunnel, air leaving her lungs.

The transport.

Last spring.

The bomb.

The bomb that blew up the bus Raelle was on. That caused her to nearly die. To lose her hearing in one ear. 

The bomb that almost took Raelle away from her forever.

That Raelle still had nightmares about. 

That Scylla still had nightmares about.

“Where is he?”

“Ramshorn.” Anacostia began, but was interrupted by pure ice.

“Where. Is. He?”

“Scylla,” Izadora offered her a sympathetic look, “it’s done. He’s dead.”

Scylla shook her head, twisting around and stepping toward the path that led to the necro buildings.

She began to jog.

“Scylla. Hey,” Raelle tried to match her stride, already a few steps behind, “Slow down.”

“No,” Scylla growled.

She wanted to see him.

Needed to see him.

The man who wanted to ruin her life.

Wanted her kind dead. Her girlfriend dead.

Nearly succeeded in doing so.

She powered across Base, mind only on the body she knew was in the necro labs. She didn’t see the snow or the soldiers or anything other than the image in her mind.

Raelle, asleep in the infirmary bed. No one having any idea if she would wake up. Bloody and broken. 

Tired.

The Camarilla were monsters.

This man was the devil.

“Scyl,” Raelle called out, reaching for her arm.

“He hurt you.” Scylla whipped around, nearly causing Raelle to trip over her own feet and plummet to the ground. “He almost killed you. He killed other witches. I am not letting him or his damn hunters try again.” Her chest rose and fell rapidly, words spitting out like bullets.

No one, not even Raelle was going to stop her.

No one could stop the anger coursing through her veins, igniting her blood and calling for vengeance. Justice. Retribution. 

Stop her from protecting Raelle.

“I know.” Raelle retook her hand, their hold having broken when Scylla ripped away in her haste, “Let’s go.”

Scylla swallowed.

Raelle was with her.

Hand strong and sturdy in her own, Scylla took off once again. Before she knew it, she was speeding down the stairs and through the hallways, shadows dancing at her feet like dark mirages, beckoning her onward.

She slammed the door open to the lab she knew he would be in.

There was a lump on one of the tables, a white cloth sheet covering the face and body.

It was him.

She knew it.

Her feet crashed to a halt. 

All she could do was stare at that sheet. At that lump.

This man...this thing...tried to kill Raelle.

Wanted to kill all witches.

Was one of the reasons her girlfriend was in danger.

She hated him.

A sense of dread filled her.

A nameless faceless monster that haunted her dreams was finally taking shape. This wasn’t a story or piece of gossip. Not a memo or ghost drifting off into the night.

This was real.

This was the man.

“Scylla,” Izadora’s voice broke through her thoughts. 

Scylla blinked, coming out of her mind and fully noticing her surroundings. Raelle was at her side, hand on her back, tight lipped and worry etched in her gaze. Anacostia stood by Izadora, stoney faced and silent.

“Scylla,” Izadora spoke again, “there’s nothing you can do. I understand. I do. I want answers as much as you do, but the window is short and we do not have enough power to wake him and conduct an interrogation.”

No.

There was a way.

There was always a way.

Scylla’s mind traveled back to her lessons. 

Different seeds and songs rifled through her mind.

To make a dead person your eyes, to see through theirs.

To make a death cap.

To preserve a body so it could be transported home for a proper burial.

None of them would help. 

The only one would be to reawaken him. 

To force his soul back from the underworld and hold it here as long as possible.

Make him talk.

Moving away from Raelle, Scylla approached the steel table. Lifting her hands, she hesitated before tugging the sheet away from his face.

Another unremarkable person. Regular nose. Regular mouth. Small moustache. Shaggy hair.

This man set a bomb to kill witches. Kill soldiers. Kill Raelle.

This unassuming face haunted her nightmares and kept Raelle up at night.

She felt sick.

Rage and fear churned in her belly like warring dogs fighting for dominance. 

The enemy was at her fingertips.

She wanted to kill him.

Make him suffer. 

Have him feel the devastation he wrought. 

“Scylla?’ Raelle called out quietly.

Exhaling, Scylla felt the tense muscles in her back and shoulders relax. She focused on that voice. Let it calm her. She needed to be calm. In control.

Closing her eyes, Scylla fought to remember the proper key, the proper sounds. An old, nearly ancient, song she’d read about in an advanced textbook she’d found one night long ago in the necro library. Not canon. Older. More powerful. More intricate. She stuck her hand out, fingers curling slightly as she opened her mouth and emitted a low note.

Magic swirling around her, she let the note soar, twisting and turning as it ebbed and flowed in intensity. High. Low. Long. Short. 

Nothing happened.

Concentrating harder, her body shook as she focused all her energy, all her power, on the man. 

Eyes closed, she saw colors and shapes, essence that she reached for and dragged out, urging, forcing, beating into the body before her. Her hand fell to the small patch of skin on his chest visible above the sheet.

More.

She needed more.

Sing harder.

She could feel it. So close. Life. Death. A portal. A sign. A connection. 

She could feel a spirit. A ghost. A voice.

Fighting her. Unwilling to come. Unwilling to listen.

It was strong.

She was stronger.

The room around her began to quake. 

She was so close.

“Ramshorn.” Anacostia’s warning voice piped up.

She didn’t hear her.

So close.

She could do this.

She could bring him back.

Make him talk.

Force him to listen.

“Ramshorn!”

He was right there. 

She could make him speak.

Make him answer their questions.

Answer for what he did.

More.

More.

So close.

More.

Sweat pooled at her temples. Her throat ached, burned, felt like hot knives were flaying her vocal cords.

More.

So close.

She couldn’t stop

Almost there.

Right there.

It hurt. 

She couldn’t stop.

Wouldn’t stop.

The shadow of a soul morphed into something solid, something tangible. It bobbed and weaved, not wanting to cross over.

Her body trembled violently.

The song began to waiver.

She was tired.

Growing so tired.

She could barely hold the soaring note.

She was so close.

She was so tired.

The shape, the shadow, was slowly moving away, slipping from her grasp. She desperately reached out. Desperately beseeched him to listen, to come, to do her bidding.

He was moving away. Fighting. Struggling. Pulling, pulling, pulling. Going back to the darkness. 

A palm swiftly connected with hers, fingers gripping hard around her hand. 

A burst of energy exploded through her veins. Pure power engulfed her, roaring in her blood and making every nerve in her body sing.

The shape, the image, seeming so far away and drifting even farther was suddenly right in front of her. 

With every ounce of power she could summon, she dragged the darkness to her.

“Oh my goddess.” someone breathed.

“Quick, take notes. Keep your eyes on Collar.”

“Don’t move, Scylla, Raelle.”

The voices blended together, random sounds that meant nothing to Scylla. Made no sense. All she could see, all she could feel, all she knew was the tenuous grasp she had on the darkness and the power surging through her. The thread of pure light that looped around her and filled her with a strength and warmth she couldn’t describe but felt so familiar that tears wanted to fall.

It was so strong.

So powerful.

It burned and hurt and was so hard to hold on to. 

Images beckoned her. Called to her. 

A door. A path. A portal to somewhere else. 

She shook so hard it felt like her teeth would fall out.

The darkness wanted to leave. Fought against her. Never wanted to be there.

The thread, though. The thread held her aloft. The light. 

Moments swam through her mind, flickering like images on a movie screen.

“Tally!” Abigail shouted. She tried to move, but groaned as her leg throbbed.

“Tal,” Raelle spoke softly. “Tal.” she rolled, clawing her way over.

“Raelle!” Abigail tried to catch her but missed.

Raelle clambered to her, plodding inch by inch until she was at her best friend’s side.

First burst into the sky, a flaming ball of toxic heat flaring up from the lake of gas surrounding the crushed vehicle.

She hit the ground hard, gravel kicking up as the shards of scorching unbearable heat slammed into her.

Ash threatened to fill her lungs. Paint her insides white and grey and bleak.

She gasped, overcome with unrelenting terror.

Then, the image changed. And with it came a sense of joy. Affection. Devotion.

She grinned against her skin, “But, were they weird like you? Put milk in the bowl before the cereal?”

The laugh burst out unexpectedly. “What?”

“You’re so weird, Scylla. Everyone knows you put cereal in before the milk.”

"I’m weird?” her eyebrow ticked up, a thin yet strengthening block of brightness wedging into the darkness inside and forcing it away.

“Sexy weird.” she recited, “I like it.”

She couldn’t hold on to the darkness any longer.  

It slipped from her fingers, falling back through the portal and away from her.

Everything went blank.

“Scylla? Scylla? Ramshorn? Come on.”

Head feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds, Scylla groaned as she forced her eyes open.

Anacostia was kneeling in front of her, hand on her shoulder, “That’s it. Slowly.”

“What?” Scylla’s throat was parched, “What happened?” She felt terrible. Her shirt was sticky with sweat and damp hair was matted to her face. 

“You connected with him. You linked with the dead.” Izadora answered her. 

Scylla’s head rolled to the side. She was seated on the lab floor, legs splayed out and back against the wall. She blinked. Izadora was a few steps away, hovering over a slumped Raelle.

“Raelle?” Scylla croaked, trying to reach for her, but her arms felt like lead.

“She’s ok.” Anacostia assured her, “Knocked herself out helping you.”

Scylla’s face flickered. What was she talking about?

“You just woke the dead, Ramshorn.” Anacostia explained, eyes wide with disbelief. “You almost did it yourself, too. Collar over there jumped in at the last minute.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Izadora propped Raelle up, the blonde groggily coming to. “Your power...you were so close, even on your own. When Raelle linked with you, you did something we’ve been able to do with a power surge only available during the likes of Beltane or All Hallows.” She rubbed Raelle’s shoulder comfortingly, “The power you two have is incredible.”

“I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, Ramshorn,” Anacostia sighed, “But you woke him long enough to get us answers.”

Scylla barely heard her. Her gaze was on the blonde waking up. Dragging herself across the floor, she tumbled into Raelle, “Rae?”

“Scyl?” Raelle rasped, “Wha’?”

Scylla’s head rested on her shoulder, arm sleepily falling around her waist.

“You ok?” Raelle asked, head lolling, cheek coming to rest on Scylla’s crown.

Scylla nodded, “Tired.”

“I can’t be sure,” Izadora crouched before them, “but this link you two have is stronger than anything I can recall seeing. The power I’ve seen you have apart...and now together...it’s immense.” 

Anacostia glared at Scylla, “What you did was outside of canon. Extremely advanced Work.”

“What else is new?” Scylla felt Raelle lay an arm around her shoulders. 

“Prematurely age me.” Anacostia muttered under her breath.

Chapter Text

Scylla did not like this.

She did not like this at all.

Something was very very wrong.

Standing near the center of the room, she peeked to the side to see Willa and Anacostia a few feet away, faces stoic but confusion in their eyes. They were close enough to be polite, but there was no love lost between them. Even working together, they were not friends. They would never be friends.

They were working toward a common cause, wanting to eradicate the same foe, caring for the same witch, but that was it.

Focusing her full attention back on the desk before her and the person sitting regally behind it, Scylla inhaled silently. Sarah Alder was everything that she despised. The matriarch of their slavery. It was because of her that witches were forced to fight in wars not their own. It was because of her that peaceful men and women who chose not to willingly participate in, not to submit to, their own deaths were murdered even when they surrendered. It was because of her that Raelle has the scar on her chest right above her heart. 

Sarah Alder was not her friend. 

She was simply another woman who sought out power and did everything she could to hold on to it. 

Blinded by her own arrogance and privilege. 

She knew that Alder refused for far too long to believe the Camarilla were back. Refused to acknowledge what was right in front of her, what the Spree had tried again and again to warn her about. 

Instead, she kept believing that the Spree, those who fought to free witches, would attack their own without provocation or motivation.

Sarah Alder may be helping lead them in the war against the Camarilla, but Scylla would never trust her. 

The older woman appraised her, taking in the young witch with barely concealed disdain. 

Catching her blue eyes and holding them, Scylla took on a disaffected air. “Sarah, it’s been too long.” She casually tucked her hands in her pockets, making a show of looking around the office, eyes passing over the biddies, “I love the decor in here. Much more modern than our last meeting place. More...office chic than medieval servitude.” Her gaze landed back on the general, “Still slave’s quarters, though, isn’t it?”

The biddies glared at her, a hiss echoing in the air.

Scylla didn’t flinch.

Alder returned her stare. Unaffected. Calm. “Hello, Scylla. I see you have taken well to our hospitality.”

“The food is a bit less...sharp, but I can’t complain.”

Scylla could feel Anacostia’s warning look.

Alder smirked, gesturing to the chair before her desk, “Please, have a seat.”

“I’m fine, thanks.” She wouldn’t be surprised if chains appeared to strap her down.

“Very well,” she stood up, uniform glimmering in the ample sunlight.  The medals and pins gleamed as she stood tall, “We have recently come into some very important information.”

“Is it your skin care routine, because I would love to learn how you look so good for your age.”

 Alder continued on as if she hadn’t spoken, “We have solid intelligence concerning the locations of the Camarilla within our borders. I am sending strike teams to scout the locations and stealthily eliminate the threat.” A hint of a smirk flashed at the corner of her mouth, “I would like you to participate in the strike on the headquarters of their top leadership.”

Scylla concealed her frown, only allowing a slight lift of her brow. She could sense  Anacostia shift uneasily on her feet, “Me?”

“Yes. Those from the necromancy field will be needed to assist with logistics and surveillance. I believe you were assigned to that field when you were in War College.”

“Scylla isn’t one of your soldiers.” Willa’s voice rang out. “She is one of my operatives.”

“No, she is not entirely under my command, but I assumed the Spree would like to have their operatives take part in this mission. We are, after all, working together, are we not?” Her smirk appeared, though her eyes were hard, “And, what better operative to send to the most vital location than one we trained here at Fort Salem...before she chose to become a traitor and pursue terrorism.”

Scylla’s jaw clenched, “The only terrorism is what you do to those poor cadets who don’t know any better.”

“General Alder,” Willa intervened again, “Scylla is my operative. She doesn’t take orders from you.”

“No, of course not.” Alder acquiesced with a tilt of her head. Her gaze flickered with power, “I simply thought she would be interested in pursuing the intelligence she was able to procure from the prisoner.”

Scylla felt all the air leave the room. 

Her face dropped.

Intelligence she was able to procure from the prisoner.

Alder knew.

Her mind could only focus on one thing. Over and over.

Alder knew.

It felt like the floor disappeared from beneath her, and she was plummeting into an endless abyss.

How did she know?

What else did she know?

A cold sweat trickled down her back. 

Feeling movement, Scylla blinked, mentally forcing herself back into the moment, back into Alder’s office.

“General, “Anacostia spoke respectfully, but worry caused her shoulders to grow taut, “yes, we were able to obtain vital accurate information from the prisoner, but who told you Ramshorn was involved?”

Alder smiled, no warmth in the gesture, “I know what happens on my base, Sergeant.” Her eyes ticked back to Scylla, “So, Ms. Ramshorn, do you refuse to assist the army on intelligence you allegedly obtained? Refuse to help us stop our mortal enemy once and for all?”

Scylla clenched her jaw so tight it ached, “I’m not going on one of your suicide missions. I know how much you like to send those who challenge you on those.”

She was not going to let Sarah Alder intimidate her. 

“Scylla is not participating in this mission.” Willa backed her up. “Especially when you have presented no plan, no information on the logistics, nor even informed the Spree of this until right now.” Willa’s tone was pure ice, “The Spree want the Camarilla defeated even more than you do. But, we will not send witches to their deaths just to stroke your ego. We need to know this mission will be a success.”

Alder continued to stare at Scylla.

Scylla didn’t wilt under the glare, but the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Something was happening, and she wasn’t sure what it was. 

She had to figure out what Alder was playing at.

What was her endgame here.

If she wanted Scylla, wanted to try to use her, there were easier ways to get her.

Her first trip to the basement of chains and torture proved that.

“Very well.” Alder said after a moment. She returned to her chair, folding her hands on top of the pristine wood. “I have selected the soldiers to serve in the Spree’s stead, if you choose to not participate.” 

Scylla did not like this.

There was something in her tone. In the haughty confidence of her posture.

As if she expected this response.

And had already made her checkmate move.

The door opened.

And, the world turned upside down.

It all became clear in the blink of an eye.

How could they have been so blind?

Raelle marched in, confusion in her bright blue eyes as she noticed who was present. Her steps imperceptibly stuttered when she saw Scylla standing there.

“No,” Scylla whispered, the words out before she could even process what was happening. What was about to happen.

This couldn't be happening.

“Cpl. Collar.” Alder addressed the young blonde.

“Gen. Alder, ma’am.” Raelle stood at attention before the desk. 

“No,” Scylla spoke up, eyes wide. “You can’t do this.”

She couldn't.

She wouldn't.

“Sarah,” Anacostia intoned quietly, a slight shake to her voice.

“Sarah, don’t…” Willa began.

Alder held up a hand, silencing them.

Raelle’s eyes squinted in confusion. 

Scylla couldn’t breathe as it fully dawned on her what Sarah Alder was about to do.

She was checkmating them all, and they never even knew they were playing chess.

Her heart stopped beating. Air refused to enter her lungs. 

It was like watching a train wreck about to happen and being unable to stop it.

Like hiding in the garage as her parents tried to speak with the military police raiding their home.

Alder looked straight at her, “Cpl. Collar, you have been performing admirably in your courses in War College. Your teachers have only the highest of praise for you. Smart, resourceful, and brave. You have a natural talent as a Fixer. Many believe you will be one of our best.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“With these accolades in mind, I am assigning you to Beta Strike Team. You will be received by your new commanding officer and briefed on your next mission once you leave this office.”

Scylla watched Raelle freeze, no expression on her face. But, Scylla could feel it.

The same surprise, fear, and confusion that pumped through her veins rolled off her girlfriend in waves. 

Alder was deploying Raelle.

Ice trickled down Scylla’s spine, cold dread branching out and overtaking her senses.

“Hurts, Scyl.”

“I know. I know. You’re ok, though. You’re ok.”

“Can’t...can’ hear ya."

Alder was sending Raelle to die.

They didn’t listen as her parents tried to go willingly with them. Promised to not fight them.

The low hum rang in her ears like a tornado. Loud. Unending. Vicious. 

Haunting.

She couldn’t move. 

She needed to move. To help. They were going to hurt her parents. Her mom and dad. Her family. The two people she loved. The two people who made her world bright and happy.

The thud of a body hitting the floor echoed in the small space.

“Gen. Alder,” Anacostia stepped forward, “Cpl. Collar has been assigned to Fort Salem and off the active duty roster.”

“Ah yes, Sgt. L’Amara’s request that Gen. Bellweather signed off on. I have overridden it. Request denied. Collar will report to her new commanding officer immediately.” She mused quietly, “Strange, how a Fixer was assigned to serve in Necro.”

Scylla wanted to run. Grab Raelle and catch the next bus leaving town. Never look back until they hit the west coast, as far away from Fort Salem as they could get.

She wanted to hold her girlfriend’s hand. Let her know she was there. They would be ok. She would figure this out.

She wanted to take the fear and pain away.

She wanted to protect her.

She wanted Raelle.

“Cpl. Collar is physically unable to deploy.” Anacostia tried.

“Yes, the hearing loss.” Alder lifted her chin at Raelle, “Something you kept from your superiors until recently. A breach of protocol and regulation. Notwithstanding your continued effort to undermine authority in pursuit of your continued advancement through the combat units, I see no reason to keep you from active duty. It looks to me as if you wanted to remain in a combat ready role, Corporal. Even so, from my understanding, you have a patch of some sort for this. Devised a way to counteract your disability. Is this true?”

Raelle’s voice was thin, eyes straight forward, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Problem solved.” Alder reached for a stack of papers, “The paperwork has been signed and Izadora is being informed of the reassignment as we speak. No need to wait, Corporal. Perhaps you can utilize your healing Work. Being able to heal multiple people at once without linking may be quite useful on this mission.”

Raelle swayed as the implication hit her.

Scylla went completely numb.

Alder knew everything.

And, she was going to take it out on Raelle.

The general continued, “A perfect time to practice it under your commanding officer’s supervision. The strike team, as well as the army overall, will greatly appreciate your abilities. Saving lives is a fundamental cornerstone of the military and the Fixer units. I see a bright future for you, Corporal. One where we do not need to grieve for our fallen sisters as we have before. Knowing how many lives can be saved by you, how many families will not have to suffer the pain of losing a loved one, should fill you with pride. You have the chance to help others, Corporal. I know you will make all of us proud.”

Scylla’s hands curled into fists.

She was going to use Raelle for her own means. 

And she was directly manipulating Raelle’s drive to fix people, the goodness inside of her that motivated her to heal others, to do so.

Damn her.

No.

No.

They were not going to sacrifice Raelle.

“I’ll go!” Scylla shouted, words ringing like a gunshot. 

All eyes turned to her.

She didn’t care.

“I’ll go.” she spoke firmly, desperately. “I volunteer.”

“Scylla, no.” Willa called out.

Raelle frowned at the brunette, trying to piece together what was happening.

“Excellent. We appreciate the Spree assisting us on the vital operation.” Alder smiled. “Prepare to depart at 1600.” She pulled a piece of paper to her and began to read, “Cpl. Collar, your assignment is still valid. Please, report to your new commander. Dismissed.”

“What?” Scylla shook her head, “No! You can’t do this.”

She volunteered!

“Scylla,” Raelle’s voice wavered as she finally caught on to what happened.

Scylla snapped.

“You can’t do this!” Scylla lunged forward, only stopping because Raelle side stepped and caught her before she could reach the desk, “How dare you!”

“Willa, I’d suggest you reign in your operative.” Alder spoke, boredom in her tone, but the threat clear.

“Come on, Ramshorn.” Anacostia grabbed her shoulders, pulling her back toward the door. Scylla struggled against the hold. 

All she saw was the face of the woman who took her parents from her. Who was going to take Raelle from her. 

Rage consumed her, filled very part of her mind and soul.

Pure rage.

She wanted to hurt Alder.

Just like she was purposefully hurting her. Hurting Raelle.

“Scylla,” Raelle stood in front of her. Blue locked with blue, “Not here.”

Scylla pursed her trembling lips, “Raelle.” How could Raelle be calm? How could she just accept this? Raelle never just accepted anything. 

Then, she saw how the blue weren’t calm at all. How tight her muscles were under her uniform, straining with exertion from stress and the effort to not react, not rebel.

She could feel the emotions raging right below the surface, inside the heart she knew so well. The hurricane forming at sea, churning and spinning before hitting landfall. 

“Come on,” Anacostia dragged Scylla out of the room, Raelle and Willa following. They stormed down the hallway, no one saying anything until they were outside.

Once they were free of prying eyes and ears, or as free as one could be on the grounds of Fort Salem, Scylla ripped herself away from Anacostia, “What the hell! She can’t do that!”

“She can.” Raelle spoke softly.

Scylla spun, pinning Raelle with blazing blue, “You’re not going.”

“Orders are orders, Scylla.”

“No,” she shook her head, “you can’t go. It’s not safe.”

“And you can?” heat finally threaded into Raelle’s words, “What was that ‘volunteering’? You’re not a soldier anymore, Scyl. You were never really one to begin with!”

“I can hold my own.” Scylla waved a hand, “At least I’m not the one blindly following a mad woman’s orders to my death. Because, that is what’s going to happen. The last time she sent you on a mission because you pissed her off, you died.” A wet sheen coated her words, “You died, Raelle. If I need to take your place so that never happens again, I will.”

“You’re not trained for combat. Not like this.”

“You’re a Fixer! You’re not trained for it either!” she tried to force herself to calm down, heart racing, “You’re not going. That’s it. You. Are. Not. Going.”

“If you think I’m letting you take my place, you’re crazy. There is no way you are going anywhere near this mission.”

“But, you’re going to go? Be some guinea pig because Alder told you to?” 

“What am I supposed to do?”

Scylla didn’t have to say the words. They were written plainly on her face. 

“Scyl,” Raelle’s shoulder slumped, “I can’t run.”

Scylla stepped up to her, taking her hands, “If we leave now, we have a chance. There’s still time.”

“She’ll know. She will find us.”

“Raelle,”

“I can’t have you with a deserter. Not like this. They will hunt us down. They will hunt you down. The only reason you’re still allowed here is because of the Camarilla. If a Spree operative helped a deserter...you’re not going to die because of me.”

“But, it’s ok for you to die?” Scylla ground out, “You are not ok to go out there. You know exactly what will happen. What you will see. She is doing this because we didn’t tell her about you. We tried to hide. The way out is in.” She quietly begged, only the two of them able to hear her words, “I love you. But, we can’t stay here. If you deploy, you won’t come back.”

Raelle gently cupped her cheek. She closed her eyes, touching her forehead to Scylla’s. Scylla bit back a sob as the blonde whispered, “I love you. So damn much.”

Scylla grasped her wrists, thumb pressing against the pulse point of her wrists, taking a small bit of comfort in the steady beat. 

“You made me believe I could make it through all this. Don’t make me stop believing now.”

Scylla’s jaw quivered, “She’s testing you. Us. She wants us to cause something to happen.”

“Good thing you’re not going.”

“I go where you go.” Scylla recited, “I’m not letting you go alone. Never. We either leave together right now, or we get on that transport plane together. You’re not walking away from me.”

Raelle raised her head, pressing a kiss to Scylla’s forehead. She let her lips linger, memorizing the feel of Scylla so close.

Scylla squeezed her eyes shut, holding on to her wrists like they were anchors in a storm.

As Raelle pulled back, her eyes cut to Willa.

“And I need her to be safe. I…” her voice cracked, and she grew quiet, battling to block her emotions from tumbling out in a jumbled mess. “You said we’d be treated differently. Like you and Pop. That they’ll go after Scylla because she’s Spree. After this is over, they’ll come for her.” 

“What are you asking me?”

Raelle stared her straight in the eye, “I need you to protect Scylla. No matter what happens. I need you to promise me you’ll help her. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Scylla blinked her eyes open, gaze ticking to Anacostia.   

Scylla didn’t flinch, “Interesting that we happen to know one.” She stretched her arm across her chest. 

“General Alder can overturn any decision.” 

“I’ve heard the west coast is a great place to move to. Clear ocean waters. Big forests. Sunny skies. You can lose yourself in the beauty of it all.” 

Anacostia dipped her head, “We should head back. I have an early meeting with General Bellweather.”

Scylla cupped Raelle’s chin, drawing her eyes to her, “No more goodbyes. That’s what we said. You tell me, are we getting on that transport plane or are we getting in a car and driving west?”

Raelle took a shuddering breath.

“Tell me, Raelle. Are we deploying, or are we going home?”

Chapter Text

A delicate breeze wafted off the water, tickling her brunette locks and caressing her face like that of a gentle lover. The calming scent of salt and sea beckoned her, drawing her eyes to the boats bobbing on the lapping waves, distant dots sailing along the vast horizon. Scylla closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting her senses take over. Feel nothing but the sand cushioning her boots and the sun warming her brow. If she closed her eyes tight enough, she could almost imagine her mother’s laugh, her dad’s playful hollers as they chased her around Labor-in-Pain. The joy that filled her young heart and caused her to smile wide. Dream of far away lands that the passing ships would take her to. Adventures filled with daring escapades and endless sky. A life full of love and happiness. Traveling the world without any worries. Without any sadness or despair. 

Dreams of a child who didn’t know what the world was really like. 

A child who still whispered in the back of her mind. Telling her she could trust. She could love. She could be loved.

“Not exactly what I meant when I said we should go to the beach.”

Scylla smiled softly, opening her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder to see Raelle approaching, steps a little uneven in the mercurial sand. She silently marveled at how the light reflected off her beautiful blue eyes, glimmered in the curve of her grin and made her hair shine like a lighthouse in the darkness.

She looked like a beacon to a wayward sailor, a sign of land after years lost at sea. 

“Guess you should have been a bit more clear.” Scylla replied.

Raelle reached her side, rolling her eyes but taking her hand, “We’re moving out soon.”

Scylla nodded.

She knew.

A night strike. 

Under the cover of darkness they would infiltrate the old building the Camarilla commandeered as their main headquarters in the States. A moonless night would provide them the cover they needed to surprise whoever was inside and complete the mission quickly and efficiently.

“Cpt. Huang believes it should be an easy operation. Low risk.” Raelle recited.

Scylla watched the tips of the waves turn from white to crystal blue.

She didn’t believe that.

Nothing was easy.

Not anymore.

Raelle sighed, “Necros stay at base. Monitor what’s happening. They don’t participate in the actual infiltration.”

“Fixers are supposed to stay behind and only jump in when someone needs medical attention.” Scylla’s eyebrow ticked up, “Are you staying behind, too?”

Raelle pursed her lips.

Scylla nodded, “I’m going with. If you want me to stay back, then you can stay back with me.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Raelle exhaled in frustration coated with acceptance. 

“I won’t. I can handle myself.” she nudged her, “I know a decent fixer if I do.”

A tired grin flickered before she turned somber, “Promise me you’ll stay close to Tally and Abigail.”

The transport plane hummed as the pilot did a final walk through check before take off. Beta Strike Team was settling in, packs dropping to the floor and small chatter filling the space as soldiers took a seat. 

Scylla offered Raelle a grateful look as the blonde grabbed Scylla’s pack from her and carried it over to an empty spot. She could feel the anxiety in the blonde’s brief touch, see it in the pinch of her brow. 

Scylla felt the same worry in the pit of her stomach. She schooled her features into a calm facade, but deep inside, she could only picture Raelle on a similar transport plane, flying off to China, unaware of how her life was about to change, only knowing that she tried so hard and was still being sent off to the front lines.

No matter what she did, she was still just a fixer from the Cession with no respected matriline to fall back on.

She was powerless to the forces around her.

And it resulted in her nearly dying.

Just like it might do again.

Scylla reached for her arm, getting her attention and locking eyes with her, “I love you.”

Raelle gave her a tremulous smile, “It’s going to be ok, Scyl.”

It was unclear if the words were meant for Scylla or herself.

Scylla didn’t notice her hand was trembling till Raelle gave it a light squeeze.

“Yo shitbirds! Break it up. We don’t need shiny marks giving away our position.”

Scylla watched Raelle’s face light up with disbelief. She turned toward the back of the plane.

Abigail Bellweather and Tally Craven marched up the ramp, gear on their backs and determination in their steps.

“Abi? Tal?” Raelle asked.

Abigail shrugged as Tally spoke up, “We heard about the mission. We volunteered immediately.”

“Can’t let you have all the glory, Collar.” Abigail added. She nodded at the combat charm pinned to Raelle’s chest, “If you take that off, again, I will kick your ass.”

“Like to see you try, Bells.”

Tally smiled at Scylla,”They’re like this every mission. You get used to it.” She waved at the seats, “Let’s sit over here. I want to hear more about how Raelle is a secret romantic who took you to see fireflies. She won’t tell us more than ‘We went outside and looked at bugs.’” 

Scylla followed the friendly redhead, chancing a glance back to see Raelle’s shoulders slump in resignation as Abigail gave her a serious look.

“If you promise to not do something heroically stupid.” Scylla twisted to face her. Her fingers slipped over the old bird’s foot, fiddling with the pin holding it in place. “I know you, Collar. Listen to me for once, and don’t break the rules.”

“If I didn’t break the rules, I would have never met you.” Raelle’s throat bobbed as she cleared her throat. She ducked her head, watching Scylla straighten the pin, “Skip out on one training lesson and I meet the love of my life. Sounds like I can’t say no to trouble. Just ask Tally. It’s a thing.” 

“Is it?” Scylla patted her chest, palm resting above her heart, “Here I thought you were the one causing trouble.”

“Don’t let ‘em fool ya.” her drawl came out long and slow, the words rolling off her tongue like molasses on a hot summer day, “I ain’t got no power over trouble, I jus’ do wha’ trouble tells me to.”

“If trouble tells you to stay safe?”

“Wearin’ this ol’ bird's foot, aint’ I?”

She sighed, “I’m serious, Raelle.”

“So am I.” Raelle stepped back, letting her eyes scan her lithe body. She stretched out and tugged on the straps holding the pouch to Scylla’s side, tightening the straps till the pack was snug against her but not too tight as to be uncomfortable. She adjusted the hood of the uniform so it sat evenly behind Scylla’s head. Finally, she reached back into the pouch, pulling out the small painted bird’s skull Scylla always kept close at hand. She fought with the pin before ever so gently clipping it to Scylla’s chest, “Make sure your hood doesn’t get tangled or caught on something. Better to keep it over your head to counteract that. If you feel a windstrike coming or see someone about to use it, stay to the side. The force only goes forward and the width of the range is small.”

“I know.” Scylla bit her lip.

“They’ll have vocal inhibitors, again. Stay back until we clear those out.” She patted the knife secured to Scylla’s hip, “Don’t hesitate. Aim for the throat in case they have the vocal boxes. Quick short strikes. You're small. Use that to your advantage. If you get hurt, stay down and find cover. I’ll...”   

“Rae,” Scylla caught her hands. She rubbed her thumbs over the back of her knuckles, “I know.”

“Yeah. I know.” Raelle nodded, eyes still worried. Terror still coursing through her body, trickling out and easily felt by anyone close by.

“Hey,” she tilted her head, searching for heartfelt blue, “We can both do this. My old teacher sliced your throat in front of a class for a demonstration. Us Necros know how to protect ourselves. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, so I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Ok,” Raelle took back one of her hands, shoving it in her own pouch. She pulled out a crumpled folded piece of paper. With a quick flip of her wrist, she stuffed it in Scylla’s pouch, “Read this when we come back, ok?”

“What is it?”

“Don’t worry about it. Read it when this is all over.”

Scylla sat next to Abigail, half listening as the girl snored lightly, having drifted off to sleep about an hour into the flight. The older girl looked around the plane, eyes landing on the bent over blonde head of her girlfriend. 

Raelle had found a scrap of paper and pencil. Her hand was swiftly moving across the page, jotting down words hastily and a bit sloppily. 

Tally scooted over to the fixer, peeking at the paper before staring at the side of Raelle’s head. Her mouth pinched as she whispered something Scylla couldn’t make out over the roar of the engine, but she could see the way the knower stiffened at the sight of whatever was being jotted down. 

Raelle shook her head, not stopping as she continued to write.

Tally placed a hand on Raelle’s shoulder, glancing over at Scylla before leaning in to Raelle, offering wordless support.

Raelle turned her head, a serious look on her face. One Scylla had never seen before.

Tally listened intently as Raelle spoke.

After a moment, she nodded her agreement. Sadness filled the movement.

“Raelle,” Scylla frowned. What was in the letter? 

“After.” Raelle tapped her hip, “Something to look forward to. Besides our bed.” Sensing Scylla about to question it further, Raelle smirked, “Tally told me on the plane we have a bright future together.”

Scylla reluctantly went along with the subject change, “We do?”

“Yeah, and she’s a Knower, so it must be true.”

“Was she talking about your witch mark?”

“That’s already shiny. Not sure it can get much shinier.” She smirked, “Though I’m willing to try.”

Scylla rolled her eyes, “For the good of the Unit, like during Beltane?”

“Practice is important. You taught me that.”

“And what are we practicing?”

“Our future.”

Scylla couldn’t suppress the smile, brushing a quick kiss to her lips, “That’s what Tally saw? Us...practicing?”

Raelle shrugged, wrapping her arms around her. She slid behind her, resting her chin on Scylla’s shoulder and peering out at the ocean, “What do you think she saw? I’m thinking a house. Not too big. Something perfect for us. No High Atlantic mansions needed.”

Scylla leaned back into the comforting embrace, playing along, “It will have a small yard out front. You’ll try to plant flowers, but you’re terrible at gardening.”

“We’ll plant all your necro plants, instead.”

“Your dad will give us his truck, and you won’t get rid of it even though it only runs half the time.”

“It’s a good truck, just needs some work.”

Scylla rested her hands on top of Raelle’s arms, “Near the water. We can walk to the beach whenever we want.” 

“Argue about the mortgage.”

“You’ll fix things. Fix people.”

“You’ll read books. Discover new seeds. Create new Work.”

“We’ll have date night every Friday.”

“You’ll always think I forget it’s Friday until I show up with flowers.”

“Flowers you picked from the neighbor’s yard because you did forget.”

Raelle kissed her neck, “You forgive me everytime.”

“You use that drawl of yours. Unfair advantage.”

“I’ll tell you I love you every morning.” her hold tightened. A finger crept up, tracing the back of Scylla’s left hand, the path trickling down her ring finger, “Never leave without kissing you goodbye.”

“I’ll kiss you when you come back.”

“Best kisses of the day.”

Scylla’s chin quivered, “I’ll always love you.”

“You better.” her voice shook, rumbled low in her chest, words nearly stuck in the back of her throat, “I’m spending forever with you. Makes things easier if you do.”

Scylla blinked back tears, “Sounds like Tally saw a lot.”

“She’s good like that.”  

Scylla looked out, watching as pinks and oranges and blues painted the sky like nature’s masterpiece. The giant fiery ball of life was descending quickly beneath the horizon. Night would soon be upon them. She spun in Raelle’s arms, catching her mouth in a fervent kiss.

It felt like everything. A hello. A goodbye. An I Love You. A promise. A dream.

“I can’t wait to yell at you about washing the dishes.” Scylla sniffed as they broke apart, noses brushing.

“How many times I gotta tell you, babe? I’ll get to it tomorrow.” Raelle joked wetly.

For a brief moment, Scylla allowed herself to imagine it. The house. The dates. The silly arguments and passionate make ups. 

A crunch of sand under boots broke the stillness of the moment.

“Cpl. Collar, Ms. Ramshorn. We’re ready to move out.” a soldier, rigid and tall, called out, stern hand on the scourge at her waist and eyes not taking in the beautiful sunset.

“We’ll discuss this later.” Scylla whispered.

“Yes, ma’am.” Raelle pulled away. Before she could move more than two steps, Scylla grabbed her wrist and pulled her into another kiss.

She always needed, always wanted, one more kiss.

One, two, three, a thousand - it was never enough.

And this one, filled with love, with promise, with remembrance, would never be forgotten.

After a moment, she released her, “Let’s go.”

As they both began to follow the strike team member, Raelle looped an arm around Scylla’s shoulders and pressed her mouth to Scylla's ear, “Remind me to give you something when we get back. Thing my grandma used to have. I think it’ll look good on you.”

Chapter Text

Soft.

That’s the first thing that registered in Scylla’s head.

Soft.

Senses slowly returning, she felt like she was floating through air, spread out on a fluffy white cloud as it traversed the heavens, peacefully meandering over land and sea, without a care or worry to be had. A hint of a warm breeze traced the length of her body, running along her arms from the tips of her fingers up to her face. The barest tickle of salt and sunshine teased her nose. 

The feel of her body came in bits and pieces. Her legs. Her torso. Her shoulders, dipped against cradling cotton and comfort. 

Mind slow, the world came into being a second at a time, one relaxed easy moment after the other. 

Well rested exhaustion weighed down her eyelids. She felt as if she had never slept so well, so deeply in her life, and her body, her soul, craved the solitude it had finally achieved.

The breeze swirled around her brow and touched the tip of her nose, causing it to scrunch under the playful pat.

Lashes fluttering lazily, crystal clear blue unhurriedly were revealed. The darkness drew away and light took its place, illuminating the universe with its unrelenting kindness.

Licking her lips, Scylla blinked. Hazy and unfocused, her vision transformed the land of dreams into a small bedroom. 

Where was she?

Lifting herself up onto her elbows, the crisp sheet that had been pulled up to her chest slipped down, unveiling the loose flowing white top adorning her chest and cascading down to her hips. She was in a bed, a simple wooden structure with large pillows that held her head with the gentleness of a lover’s chest, the thin sheet the arms holding her in an embrace. The room was airy and bright. She could hear the almost hypnotic call of a seagull paired with the crash of the tide. White currents billowed from an open window, and specks of sand speckled the wooden floor. 

Glancing down at the shirt that was not her own, the rays of the sun soaking into her skin and providing her with the energy and life it conveyed across all it touched, she felt a tickle of a thought in the back of her mind, a tiny idea that broke through the calm.

A grin.

A grin she loved that would absolutely beam at her, happy and affectionate, as she curled on her side, staring into blue orbs that sparkled like the tips of the waves she could hear outside. 

Raelle would look beautiful in this bed beside her. Sun in her hair and life in her touch. 

Raelle.

Scylla’s eyes widened.

Her lungs constricted tightly, jaw locking as the dream world around her suddenly became a nightmare in her mind.

Where was Raelle?

Gulping, she flung the sheet away, loose white capris rippling against her legs as she swiftly dropped her feet to the floor. She swayed, dizziness striking at the sudden movement. Her stomach lurched, bile burning the back of her parched throat.

She had to find Raelle.

Where was she?

Where was here?

What had happened?

Raelle had to be ok. She had to be. She was...she was nearby. Somewhere close. She wouldn’t leave Scylla alone. She wouldn’t leave Scylla. 

Scylla wouldn’t lose her.

Wracking her brain for any clue, any semblance of an idea as to where her girlfriend was, the past hit her like a tornado, harsh and powerful.

Chaos erupted around her. Voices shouted, blending together until she couldn’t tell one apart from the other. A panicked obscene mix of curses and calls that would haunt her days and nights for eternity. 

She spun on her heel, trying to see through the smoke and confusion. She could hardly breathe, the burning fires scorching her lungs. The screech of the vocal inhibitors tore at her ears, and it took all her strength to not curl up into a ball and hold her hands to her ears, desperately praying for the sound to stop. She gripped the knife in her hand so tightly her knuckles ached as the handle bit into the flesh of her palm.

Tally hovered beside her, scourge out and head whipping around as she searched for something...anything. 

Scylla hopped over a pile of crushed glass, weaving around a table and vaulting into the next room. She could feel Tally at her heels. She had to find Raelle.

Everything had gone to shit so quickly.

One minute, they were entering the building, Raelle at her side with her scourge out and Tally’s voice echoing that she saw something.

Then, the explosion.

The vocal inhibitors.

Swinging blades and hunters with vocal boxes using their own seeds against them.

Scylla had lost Raelle in the scramble to thwart the attack. One second the blonde was swinging her scourge, the end slicing into a charging hunter. The next Scylla was by herself, blocking an oncoming blade meant for her stomach.

Running as fast as she could over broken furniture and unmoving bodies, Scylla didn’t see the figure lunging at her.

“Scylla! Left!” Tally cried out.

Acting on pure instinct, Scylla ducked and twirled, hand catching the wrist stretching out to jab a knife into her belly and flung her body around. 

Her blade cut cleanly through the neck, slashing open the vocal box strapped to the Camarilla’s throat and ending his life in one stroke.

He fell to the floor in a heap.

Scylla breathed heavily, Tally lightly touching her back as she moved beside her. The Knower darted forward, swinging her scourge with deadly accuracy. 

Pushing back against the rising fear, Scylla brandished her knife.

There was no time to think.

All she could do was act.

Fight.

Protect.

Find Raelle.

She didn’t see the person behind her.

A calloused hand, familiar, goddess so familiar, covered her mouth without warning, a blood stained arm looping around her waist.

Lips pressed hotly against her ear, a ghost of a kiss brushing the patch of skin right beside it before a voice chanted, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.”

The word went dark.

Hand trembling, she pressed her fingertips to her temple, the memory playing out like a morbid movie across her mind’s eye. 

It was blank after that.

She was there, and then she woke up wherever this was.

Goddess, what had happened? 

Stumbling, her hand dropped as she moved to the door of the bedroom. She cautiously walked, feet bare and the floor smooth. She held her breath, listening for any sounds beyond those of mother nature and her calls. Eyes darted around, hands lifted and ready for whatever she may come across. Her mouth remained slightly open, throat dry but ready to sing.

She walked out into the hallway.

The house was small. Open and airy. The ocean filled the entire structure with its salty breaths and sleepy sunshine. Scylla followed the blue and white accented corridor, peering in at another bedroom, empty and the bed made. Approaching a corner, she slowed down.

“What is the army's final report?”

Scylla’s brows flickered. Willa? She cautiously peered around the corner. 

Willa stood in front of a mirror, back turned toward Scylla. If Scylla angled her head just so, she could make out who the Spree leader was speaking to.

Anacostia Quartermaine’s stoic visage stared back at the older Collar.

Anacostia! She would know something about Raelle, right? Willa or her would know where Raelle was. Could tell her if she was ok. 

There had been so much smoke. Fire. Violence.

She had to find Raelle.

Anacostia’s face remained grim, “A success. The strike teams performed exceptionally well. Limited casualties for our side. Intelligence is currently analyzing the situation. Early indicators are that the Camarilla have been all but eliminated on our shores. We will continue to monitor and assist our partners in the Hague with the global threat.”

“Good.” Willa nodded.

Anacostia continued, “We suffered minimal losses. I regret to inform you Cpl. Collar was reported MIA and is presumed to be KIA.”

KIA.

KIA.

Scylla fell to her knees.

No.

No.

This was wrong.

This wasn’t real.

She was still asleep.

Still dreaming.

A nightmare. She was caught in a nightmare.

“Her medal was found hanging on a piece of debris and her combat charm was nearby along with substantial amounts of blood. Based on the extent of the damage caused by the explosion Beta Strike Team encountered paired with multiple accounts by our soldiers, we have determined Cpl. Collar was attempting to assist a fellow soldier when she became a casualty of a nearby explosive device.”

Anacostia’s voice echoed in her head like the distant static of a broken radio, faint and biting.

KIA.

Assisting a fellow soldier.

KIA.

Explosive device.

KIA.

No.

This wasn’t right.

This couldn’t be happening.

Raelle was fine.

She was fine.

They were both fine, and they were going to go away. 

Raelle was fine!

Goddess. 

No.

Scylla couldn’t breath. She slumped against the wall, unable to move.

This was fake.

Her heart felt like it had stopped beating yet it raced so fast she couldn’t help but think it would leap out of her chest.

The world turned foggy.

She heard wrong.

Anacostia was wrong.

She was lying.

It was all lies.

A phantom voice whispered to her, “ One...two...three...four...five...”

Raelle couldn’t be gone.

The voice nudged her, “Come on, Scyl, if a Cession can count, surely a Necro can. One...two...three...four...five. Breathe, beautiful. Breathe.” 

Scylla found herself unconsciously tapping her fingers against her chest, the spot where her own combat charm had been...the spot where her broken heart screamed. 

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Half aware of her surroundings, Scylla closed her eyes against the now too bright sunlight, the wickedly cruel call of the seagulls.

Willa’s voice pricked her ears, “Similarly, our own operative, Scylla Ramshorn was declared dead at the scene of the attack. Our operatives removed her body and will conduct a proper burial for her.”

Scylla’s head whipped around so fast she nearly smacked her cheek against the wall.

Dead?

She wasn’t dead.

She was fine.

She was right there. Alive. 

Her shattered heart could only come from being alive. The dead would never suffer such torture. Such pain.

Anacostia nodded, “We offer our deepest condolences and thank you for your assistance during this unexpected conflict.”

With a shimmer, Anacostia disappeared.

Scylla breathed heavily, mind reeling. Dead? KIA? What...nothing made sense. 

“Scylla.” a motherly tone called out to her.

Scylla looked up to see Willa stepping towards her, a soothing hand held out.

“I see you are awake. I hope you slept well.”

“What. The. Fuck.” Scylla tried to jump to her feet, but the emotional weight of her tattered soul made her clumsily stagger and bob.

“Don’t move too quickly. Waking up too fast will cause you to feel sick.” Willa cautioned. 

“Sick? What? What the hell is going on? I don’t…” 

“How about we go to the kitchen. I have some homemade iced tea, freshly made. Let’s have a glass and talk.”

“Iced tea? I don’t want iced tea!” Scylla could not believe this. “Where is Raelle? Where am I? Why did you say I’m dead? I’m not dead!” Was she? Was this all some strange hallucination?

“I know.” Willa spoke calmly. “You’re not.”

“Why did you…” she trailed off. She looked, really looked at the face, so much like Raelle's, staring at her.

Raelle.

It dawned on her.

Oh, Goddess.

Something clicked inside. A stupid idea that made too much sense.

She should have known.

Should have seen this coming.

Damn Raelle.

Damn it all.

Anger clawed at her.

“She planned this.”

A calloused hand, familiar, goddess so familiar, wordlessly covered her mouth, a blood stained arm looping around her waist.

Lips pressed hotly against her ear, a ghost of a kiss brushing the patch of skin right beside it before a voice chanted, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.”

“Raelle planned this.” Scylla repeated, the words bitter on her tongue.

That voice. That hold. She knew Raelle. Would know her even if she was blinded in the middle of a chaotic battle.

Willa nodded, “She asked me to take care of you. If something were to happen, to help you.” A small shrug, “I’m doing what my daughter asked me to.”

Of course she did. Of course her girlfriend would go behind her back and act like a noble idiot. “Where is she?” She wet her chapped lips, “She can’t be dead. She’s not dead.” Her head whirled, “How could she do that? How could she not tell me.” She mentally cursed the youngest Collar. “Damn it, Raelle.” she spit out. 

“Did you read my daughter’s note?”

“What?” Scylla’s hands shook. Note? None of this made sense, yet it made complete sense. 

She thought they had a plan, yet Raelle had her own the entire time. 

She’d kiss her if she didn’t strangle her first.

“Go read my daughter’s letter. I think it may help.” Willa nodded back toward the bedroom. “I’ll have some iced tea ready when you come back out.”

With that, Willa turned and walked away.

Letter? What damn letter?

“Ok,” Raelle took back one of her hands, shoving it in her own pouch. She pulled out a crumpled folded piece of paper. With a quick flip of her wrist, she stuffed it in Scylla’s pouch, “Read this when we come back, ok?”

The letter!

Hanging on to the thinnest thread of hope, Scylla launched herself back to the bedroom. She tripped across the threshold, wildly looking around.

There, near the bed, neatly folded, was the uniform she had worn as part of the strike team. On top was her pouch.

Thrusting her hand inside, she ripped the stained and creased paper out. Quickly unfolding it, she read.

Scylla,

Hi. I never thought I would write one of these. I never thought I would have someone to write one to. I know a few who have done so. My mama did. I hope you never have to read this, but if you do, know I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I love you. More than anything.

I never wanted to die.

Not since I looked into your eyes for the first time. You appeared out of nowhere, and I haven’t been able to see anything or anyone else since. You don’t know how much you changed my life. How much you made me ok again. Your smile made me think there was something more to this life than dying.  I would do anything to see you smile one more time. 

You have a gorgeous smile, beautiful, and I hope you show it every day, because the world is a better place when you give it.

I’m a soldier. Nothing can change that. I was always going to end up here. Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to spend all my other days by your side. I wanted to come home to you so badly. I wanted to kiss you. Hug you. Just be near you and know you are right there. I wanted to make you happy. I wanted to love you every single day of my life.

My pop would tell me about love. How, when you have it, when you have met the one girl who will hold your heart forever, you want to spend every single day loving her, fighting for her.

Know I fought for you. Every moment. 

I’m sorry I can’t be there with you. I can’t hold you when you have a nightmare. Kiss you awake every morning. Tell you how much I love you every night. 

You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me, Scylla. 

I am so happy I met you. 

I only wish I had met you sooner. That I was around longer. That I loved you better.

I wish we had more time together.

I wish I could love you the way you deserve to be loved.

I so wanted to take you to the beach. 

If I had the choice, I would leave my medal hanging and have the bird say my goodbye.

I would be with you.

I would take you somepalce safe.

People say you meet the ones you love from one life in the next. I sure hope I see you in the next, because I have a lot more love I need to give you.

I Love You,

R

Scylla didn’t know she was crying till the tears rolled down her cheeks, one drop, then the next, landing on the fragile paper.

She sobbed, unable to hold in the primal despair and grief. She bent over, desperate for arms to hold her. 

Goddess no.

No.

This wasn’t real.

How could this be real?

Shaky hands curled tightly around the paper, balling it up. She reared back, ready to tear it to shreds.

No.

She caught sight of Raelle’s handwriting.

Raelle.

She quickly, desperately uncrumpled the paper, smoothing it out as best she could.

“Rae, baby. No.” Her fingers glided over melting graphite. 

Then, her eyes strangely focused on something. 

A sentence.

If I had the choice, I would leave my medal hanging and have the bird say my goodbye.

Her mind flashed back to what seemed like another lifetime.

“So, what are we waiting for?” Raelle leaned into her.

Scylla couldn’t help but smile at her, “We’ll run away, live on the beach.”

Raelle held out her hand, mimicking her words, “Hang our medals on the door.”

Overcome with love, Scylla stooped low, swinging Raelle into her arms. They giggled as Scylla stared into her eyes, “Tell the birds to sing our goodbyes.”

Scylla gasped for air.

She reread the letter.

If I had the choice, I would leave my medal hanging and have the bird say my goodbye.

I would be with you.

I would take you someplace safe.

People say you meet the ones you love from one life in the next. I sure hope I see you in the next, because I have a lot more love I need to give you.

She nearly dropped the paper.

Her medal was found hanging on a piece of debris and her combat charm was nearby. 

Her combat charm. A bird’s foot. The bird saying her goodbye. Her medal hanging…

“It can’t be.” Scylla whimpered.

She was crazy.

It was an illusion. 

If I had the choice, I would leave my medal hanging and have the bird say my goodbye.

I would be with you.

People say you meet the ones you love from one life in the next. I sure hope I see you in the next, because I have a lot more love I need to give you.

Her brain replayed the conversation over and over. Trying to fit the pieces together. Trying to see the picture being painted in front of her.

I regret to inform you Cpl. Collar was reported MIA and is presumed to be KIA.

Similarly, our own operative, Scylla Ramshorn was declared dead at the scene of the attack.

Her feet were moving before her mind caught up.

She careened through the house, skidding into the kitchen.

Empty.

She twirled around.

There was a sliding glass door that led out to a porch overlooking the ocean.

Willa stood against the rickety wooden railing, glass of iced tea in hand. 

Scylla approached her, a sense of fear suddenly overcoming her. Anxiety. Nervousness. 

Was she right?

Was she insane?

As she crossed the threshold, Willa turned to her, taking a sip of her tea, “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“Freedom.”

Scylla blinked.

Willa turned back to look out at the water, “I’ve heard the Cession is a beautiful place to visit in the springtime. A perfect stopover on the way out west.”

The truck rumbled to a stop, brakes protesting at being used. Scylla hugged her bag to her chest, peering out the window at the chipped paint and worn wood of the house.

“This here the right place?” gruffly asked the driver, a kind old man who had offered the lost girl a lift from the bus stop.

Scylla nodded.

“Well, alright then. You be safe now.” The man nodded.

“Thanks,” Scylla absently offered as she reached for the door handle. The door creaked as she swung it open, and she blindly jumped to the mud and grass underfoot. She closed the door and felt the truck bumble away behind her, kicking up a cloud of dirt in its wake.

She stared unblinkingly ahead.

The Collar home looked the same as it had when she visited with Raelle over Thanksgiving. Run down and broken but still standing. Still strong. Much like it’s occupant. The faint scent of wildflowers mixed with oil greeted her, and the wind ruffled her hair. The dew was still visible on the grass, swiping tiny wet spots onto her jeans in the early morning light. 

She was afraid to move.

She wanted to run up to the door and burst through.

She wanted to turn around and sprint as far away as her legs could take her.

She never wanted to leave.

Steeling herself, she picked her way through the knee high grass and random tools scattered about. 

She could almost hear Edwin’s laugh. Picture Raelle in the kitchen bickering with him about the toaster as Scylla watched on in amusement. Feel the gentle touch of her girlfriend as they laid in bed together, talking about forgotten childhoods and favorite memories.

Her lip trembled, and she bit it to hold in the emotions bubbling up.

Steadying herself, she walked up to the door, head held high.

She could do this.

She could see Edwin.

She could face whatever might be behind this door. 

What if she was wrong?

What if Willa told her what she wanted to hear?

What if she made it all up? Misread the clues? 

Was just a grieving sad broken individual unable to handle losing the love of her life?

Was surviving only on stupid juvenile hopes and dreams that would never come true?

Her parents didn’t come back.

Why would the heavens let Raelle?

Closing her eyes, she raised her fist and knocked on the door.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

No one was coming.

No one was there.

She had been wrong.

The home was empty.

How could she have let herself hope? Believe?

“Hey, Beautiful.” 

Scylla felt time stop.

The earth stood still.

Nothing else existed except for that voice and the beating of her heart.

The confident voice spoke up behind her, “Didn’ hear ya come by. Can’ hear the best. Old injury. Bu’ if you’re lookin’ for somethin’ to eat, Pop is inside burnin’ some pancakes. Wouldn’ recommend eatin’ ‘em though.”

Terrified this was a figment of her imagination, a cruel voice in her head, Scylla slowly turned around.

Raelle Collar, dressed in a red and black flannel shirt over an old battered lacrosse jersey, sleeves rolled up and forearms splattered with oil, a backward ball cap covering her blonde braids, grinned nervously at her. Her words were itching with spunk and fearlessness, but the shy nerves couldn’t be hidden. Her hands fidgeted anxiously, cocky grin wobbly with unsureness.

“Was workin’ on the truck. Thing ain’t run right for years. Want to take it on a trip out west. Got some friends there. Adil and Khalida. Goin’ to visit them.” she rubbed her hands together. 

Scylla stared at her.

Nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet, Raelle shrugged, “The pancakes aren’t any good, but I fixed the toaster again. Can make you some toast? Maybe some coffee?”

Scylla’s bag crashed to the ground as she dove away from the house.

Calloused hands caught her as she slammed into Raelle, warm and solid and real, the blonde stumbling back a step as Scylla wrapped herself around the other girl.

“Damn you, Raelle.” Scylla whimpered, mouth seeking her girlfriend’s.

The moment she touched her, time started back up again.

The universe came back to life.

Color returned.

She was home.