Chapter Text
Abigael had been able to mask her emotions for years. Growing up in the house she was raised in it was a way of survival. But still her facade dropped with the simple sentence “…We’re throwing in the towel”. She knew she was irredeemable, yet it was one thing to think it, another to have the three most persevering women she had ever met agree.
Just as quickly as her face fell it was right back to its rough exterior. Still, she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering for a brief moment. Thoughts of self-deprivation and resentment pooled into her head before Maggie caught her ear by saying “Hard as it is to admit, you win.”
“I always do” Abby quickly added the sarcastic and confident retort, ensuring that the Charmed One would think nothing of the moment.
Wanting the attention far from her and posing as a good host, she offered Maggie anything in the house. She grabbed the witch her wine and took a seat in her rather expensive couch. Sharing a quick smile, she took a deep sip to try and erase any of the pain she might currently be feeling.
‘Just minutes into the trial and already the Charmed Ones think me as bad as the perfectti do’, she thought to herself. She couldn’t blame them entirely; she had done some pretty heinous things; the clips the perfectti showed at trial not even breaking the top ten at times.
Though maybe she wasn’t fully to blame she countered to herself. After all, her mother was never kind or loving to her. Shock cuffs, beatings, days without food, kicked out, and the crate sure left their mark on the hybrid. Tack on her father wanting nothing to do with her, putting the hit out on her, and his callous remarks, who wouldn’t come out a little scathed.
‘Don’t be ridiculous’ her mind tormented her back to reality. She was a bad child, deserving of what her parents did.
And just like that the thoughts she had conjured up quickly left her feeling hopeless and warranting of whatever the perfectti sentenced her.
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As she sat back in the wooden chair of the cold stone trial room, she could feel something in the back of her mind prickling a warning flag. Not being able to quite place her finger on it she ignored it and listened to Maggie’s question.
“One second you’re stabbing us in the back, the next you’re risking your life for us.” Maggie began, “so I guess the question is, why?”
“Because I’m desperate for a crumb of validation”- ‘where did that come from’ she thought as her eyes grew wide. “-I didn’t mean to say that.” She added, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to backtrack her vulnerability.
“You know what they say, the truth will set you free.” Maggie said with a smirk and raised brow.
‘How dare they invade my mind and violate my privacy.’ she thought instantly. However, that prickling feeling arose in the back of her mind again, not in warning this time, but in hope.
‘Maybe Maggie, Macy, and Mel will see me for more than the persona I give off. Perhaps they’ll realize I’m not just a backstabbing, oversexed demon overlord with no care for others, but that underneath the shell of who I let others see me as I genuinely care for the women, though one more than the other two. And I’m sincerely trying to make amends for the horrible woman I’ve been conditioned to be.
“You saved Mel’s life…” her head quickly snaps up at the mention of the woman she likes. “…a number of times, you could have left her for dead, but you didn’t, why?”
Though she rather it hadn’t come out this way Abby has no quarrels in saying how she longed for Mel and how pure she believed her to be.
“Because I care deeply about her” she let out with a sigh. “And if there’s any chance she might ever feel the same about me I have to fight my worst instincts and try to be the person she thinks I could be.”
She’ll admit that was a little more than she thought she was going to say and so she lowers her head and eyes timidly, trying to catch a glance at how Mel reacts to her confession, but sees nothing.
The sound of the balance falling in her favor wakes her from her tangent thoughts.
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When the perfectti questioned her on taking Macy’s power she’s hit with conflicting feelings. Part of her sees no wrong in her actions. Macy didn’t want her power, Abby did, Macy wanted Abby to help strip her of those powers, Abby did; what wrong was committed.
If you were to donate a shirt to a thrift store and the owner then wore the shirt, could you get mad? It was mutually beneficial, the shirt is off your hands, and the owner finds a new comforting shirt.
Yet the other part of her tried to be empathetic and see why she could be wrong. Macy was in a vulnerable place, she needed a favor from Abby and Abby took advantage of the power and position she had. The argument rolled on as Macy asked for a recess.
“You stole my demon power” Macy said with heat.
Abby scoffed at the notion. Her prior reasoning thrown out the window in favor of defensiveness when questioned by the witch.
“You gave it away willingly, shed it like an infection, all I did was retrieve it from the bin…I warned you not to trust me, it’s the scorpion and the frog, and I always sting” she said sharply trying to keep her walls up and protect herself.
“No wonder your sister won’t testify for you” her attention was thoroughly caught at that.
“My sister, you spoke to Waverly?”
“Well, we reached out to her, hoping she’d stand up for you, but uh, she said ‘hell no’”.
Now Abby had hit her limit. Her interaction with Macy that morning was still fresh in her mind, her selfishness called upon, that haunting hallucination with her mother, and now Macy speaking on something she has no right to. There was so much Abby kept hidden from her, from the lot of the women, to protect herself, they truly had no idea how strong some of their words hit her.
Abby was particularly sensitive when it came to her sister because of how much she hurt her. The nightmares still plagued the young hybrid, how she burnt her because she was too weak and stupid to understand and control her power. Her deficiency led to her sister, her blood, being hurt. It was a thought she could never run from, nor would she ever let herself forget.
“You charmed ones save each other every day, but every battle I’ve ever fought, I fought alone.” She takes a second to compose herself and think about the Charmed Ones efforts in all of this.
“Now I will try and do what I can to save Jordan, but its hopeless either way, the perfectti know what I am and so do you.” Abby had to take another moment before she could continue, Mel’s words still bit away at her when she thought of them: “Mel said it best, I’m irredeemable.”
Water filled her eyes and she resented herself for showing emotion to Macy. She tried to plead her case, but saw she not going to get far with the eldest sister, so she dropped the matter.
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She would gladly go revisit being with Macy when she sees who comes to speak soon after at trial, Francesca Jameson. Seeing her always put Abby on edge, how else could you react when being in the same room as your abuser.
Though she didn’t spend much time following the news she knew how victims were held to such a higher standard than that of their oppressors. Why did she have to be the one to keep her emotions in check, why was her background being called into question, it was quite obvious it was only used in a way to aid in the oppressor’s defense? Put the fact that Abby had some run ins with some unpleasant people and suddenly the jury would not feel so bad for her, and maybe see reason to Francesca’s madness. She hated the double standard and hated the faux security she was so thinly given.
“How do you teach a toddler to control her powers?” Mel questioned her mother.
“Well, you reward them when they do something right, and punish them when they do something wrong.”
“What do you mean by punish?” Mel said.
Abby was starting to get nervous, she really rather not have the girls learn about her haunted past. Being vulnerable never worked in her favor. Any time she showed emotion instead of her hard exterior it always ended with her hurt, sometimes in many ways than one, but still, she had hope for the Charmed Ones. She trusted they might treat her differently than all the others before.
“You know, like a time out.”
“Is that what you’re calling it now?” Abby quickly scoffed, she was enraged by how her mother was politicking her way around the truth and how the perfectti took her side.
“She restrained me with shock cuffs.” She let out bravely.
“You used electric shocks on a two year old?” Mel said not being able to believe her ears.
“It’s not that unusual to use power cuffs on” Francesca took a moment to compose herself, Abby knew this brief pause was to think of a better word than ‘repulsive monster’ before the perfectti, “hybrid children”.
She saw Macy throw her a sympathetic look, but quickly looked away. She didn’t want their sympathy, if she was to gain back their trust and respect she didn’t want it to be from them knowing her trauma, she rather that come from her mouth when she was ready. Alas she didn’t have much a choice currently. She promised herself in that moment she would right all her wrongs to the three witches, not for their validation, but because she knows how wrong she’s been. Perhaps her intentions weren’t always of ill nature, but someone or someones’ feelings were hurt through her actions.
She knew how it felt to be hurt and even though she knew she was acting a lot of the time for self-preservation she finally realized her actions had ramifications.
All the thoughts bubbling in her mind we’re starting to throb at her head.
“But you never cared, did you? You never saw the witch in me. You spent my entire childhood punishing me for your ill-advised assignation with a demon.” She knows she meant to act calm and collected, but the truth serum and years of neglect pushed her to respond.
Her mind was reeling so fast she didn’t realize until later she said, “What are you going to do, throw me in the crate again?” Another part of her past the Charmed Ones now know. Macy may have figured their interaction earlier odd, but this confirmed any suspicions she may have had.
“All I ever wanted was for you to love me like you loved Waverly, but you didn’t even try did you? Did you???”
Finally, her limit was reached, the day had been trying, the days before long and tormenting in the tomb as well. She no longer cared how she acted in front of the girls, her mother, nor the perfectti. As she banged on the enclosed space she longed that her mother would for once be honest and face her truth. “ANSWER ME!”
Though she knew her attempts were always in vain. A person who displaces their insecurities or uses stupidity to reach conclusions will never be reasoned with with truth.
Before she was sent away, she was left with the smirk her mother had plastered on her face of her being reprimanded, a smirk she was very familiar with.
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As she sat back in the tomb, alone, she spent the time to really reflect on her latest years. Who had she become, why had she acted certain ways, and most of all: how could she use her realizations to change who she was?
Mistakes had been made, and her redemption may be long, filled with relapses, but Abigael Jameson-Caine was motivated to change herself for the better.