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It was raining. It seemed like it was always raining, these days. Ever since the Camarilla had put them on the run, it had been nothing but soaked jackets and waterlogged boots.
Now, Tally wasn't a surly person, someone prone to brood. Ask anyone who knew her even slightly and they'd all tell you the same thing: Tally Craven was the personification of sunshine. And maybe rainbows, too.
What these people didn't know - or didn't think about - was that even sunshine wasn't always something equated to happiness. There were droughts, heatstroke, burns. A less well-known negative connotation of the sun was what Tally had grown up referring to as a 'fanged sun': when the sight of clear blue sky and warm-looking sunlight tricked one into going outside unprepared for the cold weather awaiting them.
That's what Tally was like, these days. That's what living on the run with the people she loved most, while being hunted down by the people who hated her most, felt like. Tally loved her sisters, loved the other few strange companions they'd convinced to come along. She loved that no matter what, she would always have a home - a witches' place - where she felt like she belonged, even if it kept moving as they couldn't stay anywhere for too long. But the light and warmth were bittersweet, tinged red with the metallic taste of the blood of everyone they couldn't save.
Above all, Tally felt like she couldn't be her usual sunshine self even if she somehow felt like it, because she shared her bed with Sarah Alder each night. For Goddess sake, the woman had already lost so much, long past even what most would consider 'everything'. And knowing that Tally had played a big part in taking away the last thing she had, right before the Camarilla struck...
"...Craven!"
Tally jumped up from the shitty motel bed, battle ready. Only to drop her scourge the moment she realized she'd just pointed it at Alder. Not for the first time.
"Sorry. Still a bit jumpy from earlier."
"Understandable," Alder shrugged, seeming untouched and unbothered by Tally's unwarranted aggression. "It was a horrific ambush. I have seen worse, but only in the heyday of our ancient enemy. You do not need to apologize for being cautious."
Her words were always so carefully chosen, stirring up a sense of security in Tally's chest that she did her best to push away. If the ex-general didn't remember or care about what Tally had done, what they both had done for each other and to each other, that was her choice. But Tally still had nightmares. Of Alder killing her - quickly, or slowly when she thought Tally was a Spree spy. Worse, of her killing Alder.
Worse still were the ones where Alder would... not kill her, but harm her nonetheless with words. Taunt Tally about her feelings, her catastrophic frantic search for truth.
But the worst... The worst were the ones where Alder was soft. Where she invited Tally into her office, offered her a drink. The ones that reminded Tally of Nicte's Pushing from the forest, only they didn't end badly. Tally always woke up with the taste of whiskey on her lips right after Dream Alder kissed her, right before she could ask what does this mean, or why are you doing this, you hate me, or could this be real?
"Still. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
Alder laughed. "Pull a scourge on me? It's not like it hasn't happened before, Craven. It's fine."
So she did remember. It didn't matter. It didn't change how Tally felt, and only cemented the fact that whatever went on in her dreams would remain there and only there. They were at war, and Alder tolerated her only because she had to. Nothing else.
"You, um. Before... you came to tell me something?"
"Ah. Yes. You missed dinner," Alder explained, an unfamiliar sheepish expression on her face. "I'm still getting used to needing to eat every day, so I forgot to alert you that we only had a small window to purchase food from the diner we scouted out earlier - Candy's. When you didn't come, I assumed you'd asked someone else to pick up your order, but then no one had anything for you. See, they'd asssumed you told me."
Tally groaned, only now realizing her stomach had been growling for a while and she'd been too distracted to notice.
"And now I have to go to sleep like this and probably keep you up with the noise. Sorry."
Alder shook her head and walked to the foot of the bed, gently placing a small white box next to her.
"Not exactly. You see, I don't really eat that much. I followed the others' lead at the diner and ordered the same as them, but I could only finish the soup and a piece of bread. I don't know if you like mashed potatoes and gravy, but it surely must be better than sleeping with an empty stomach, no?"
Tally wanted to say no, wanted to let the woman have her food after so many years being deprived of it. But there was something in Alder's eyes that said this was non-negotiable - she wouldn't let Tally end the day without a meal.
So Tally nodded and thanked Alder for sharing her food with her. And if the mashed potatoes made her insides warm up more than a normal heated meal would, she didn't mention the slight magic aura she Knew Alder had woven through the food to make it more filling. She just ate and tried to smile even as the rain pattered softly against the thin motel window.
In the beginning, it had been storms, with loud thunder and huge lightning strikes. Alder's feelings were more subdued now, more controlled. Healing, maybe. They were all healing. And it would take a long time, but just for the night, Tally wished for a quieter, softer dream, one tinged with the taste of whiskey and the tempered passion of someone with experience - even if it made her long for the very real someone laying in bed just feet away so much more.