Chapter Text
"Do you want a brother or a sister, Lizzie?"
Elizabeth Thompson, three years old — almost four, as she'd tell you — was laying on her mother's stomach, currently large and round and stiff with the baby inside. She had her ear to the dome, listening for any kicks or heartbeats like her mother said she'd be able to hear if she listened close enough.
Liz wasn't listening for kicks, though. If there was a baby inside her mom, it must be talking, right? She'd seen babies, and they talked a lot. She wanted to talk to the new baby, but it wasn't saying anything. Just banging around a bit.
Her mother petted her hair and repeated the question. "Hm? A baby brother or a baby sister? You'll get to be a big sister either way."
She thought it over for a long moment, humming and hearing it echo in her head. "Both."
"Both?"
Liz lifted her head and nodded. "A brother and a sister."
"Why both, sweetheart?"
"'Cause then they gotta listen to me. Two'll do more things for me than one."
Her mother laughed, and moved Liz's hair out of her face. "The baby isn't going to do things for you, honey. And I'm sorry to say, but there's only one."
"Do you want a boy?" Liz asked her mother. "You already have me."
She laughed again. "I don't mind either way. Two daughters, a daughter and a son. Either is fine. I'll love you either way."
Liz smiled and hugged her mom, her head against her stomach. She felt the baby kick again, and decided she couldn't wait to meet them.
Liz was a month away from turning four when her mom was rushed to the hospital. Someone said the baby was coming, which confused her. Her mom said that the baby wasn't coming until after she turned four.
She was left alone in a big house, scared and confused. She cried in the hall for a while, not understanding why she wasn't allowed to come, why everyone had rushed off and left her behind. Why was the baby coming now? She hadn't missed her birthday, right?
After what felt like hours, but was really only ten minutes, Miss Mary came around in her black and white dress, the same as always. She sat Liz in the dining room, made her a snack, and assured her everything was fine. Her mother and everyone else would be home soon — including the baby.
"Mommy said that… the baby's coming after my birthday," Liz insisted.
"I know, young one, but sometimes plans change," said Miss Mary. "Sometimes babies come sooner than expected, and it can be dangerous. But Mistress is a strong woman. She did so very well with you. She'll be home in no time."
In no time turned out to be longer than either of them expected. Liz saw Miss Mary on the phone a few times, looking worried, but she was always speaking too quietly for Liz to hear.
Everyone came home long after the sunset. Liz had long since fallen asleep, but she woke up to the sound of the many footsteps echoing down the hall. Hopping out of bed, she threw open the door to her bedroom. "Mommy, you're back!"
The people in the hall looked at her with sunken, tired eyes and long faces, almost like monsters or ghosts. The man in the front of the pack, her ever elusive father, held a bundle to his chest. He stared at Liz for a moment before beckoning her forward and kneeling.
When Liz was close enough, he adjusted his hold on the bundle so she could see.
A round face. A pink little nose. Squishy cheeks. Long lashes.
"This is your sister," her father's voice was raspy. "Her name is Patricia. You're going to help take care of her, and be a good big sister, right?"
Liz nodded, and smiled at her baby sister. She was so small.
The moment didn't last, though. She looked back to her father. "Where's Mommy?"
"She's not with us anymore, Elizabeth," he said, standing. "You're the lady of the house now. That's why you have to help with your sister. Understand?"
Liz didn't understand, but she nodded anyway. Her father was tall, and he scared her sometimes. She never hung out with him because he was always working — sometimes he didn't even come to dinner.
Her father and the rest of the long-faced parade continued down the hall. At the end of it, he handed the newborn to Miss Mary, and told her to put her to bed. As she slipped past the crowd to the nursery, she lingered at Liz's bedroom door.
"Go back to bed, Mistress," she whispered. "We can talk more in the morning."
Liz wasn't sure how much she liked being called Mistress. That was what Miss Mary called her mom, not her. She was always "young one" or "Miss Elizabeth."
And her mom wasn't around anymore? Did she leave? Why? She said she loved her, why would she leave?
She tried not to cry. Her dad said she was the lady of the house, like her mother, and her mother never cried. Not even once. So a lady of the house doesn't cry.
Liz climbed back into bed. Everything would be alright. Miss Mary and her father would tell her more in the morning.
She soon fell asleep, but was woken once more before dawn by the sound of crying. It wasn't crying like she had ever heard before, it was loud and intrinsic and high pitched.
"The baby," Liz whispered into the darkness. She jumped out of bed again and opened her door, stepping into the hallway. She followed the sound down to the nursery. She hid in the shadows as the door opened and Miss Mary came rushing out, towards the kitchen.
Liz slipped into the room. In the dim light, she saw a crib, white bars and soft pillows. Inside, a figure was squirming, kicking and crying. The baby.
She walked up to the crib and stuck her hand through the bars, reaching for her sister’s.
"Hi," she said. "I'm Lizzie. Daddy said you're Patr— Pat-rish-uh. Tha's a long name, do you want a shorter one?"
The baby's cries quieted down some, and her chubby hand held tight to Liz's own.
"Maybe Patty? Do you know how to play Patty Cake? Me and Mommy play it a lot. You were in her belly, then."
The baby made some mumbling noises, but had ceased crying.
Liz smiled. "I'll teach you, Patty. I'll teach you everything. Daddy said I gotta help you, so I'm gonna. I'll be the best big sister ever! Okay?"
Patty cooed, her wide eyes staring at her sister. Liz grinned. "You're a cutie! That's what Mommy says. You're a cutie."
"Miss Eli— Ah, Mistress," Miss Mary was shocked upon coming into the room, a bottle in her hand. "You're supposed to be in bed, what are you doing here?"
"I heard Patty crying—"
"I know the Master wants you to help, but the truth is you are still a little girl. Please, let me handle it."
Liz bit her lip and nodded. She looked back at her sister and pried her hand away. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay Patty? I'll teach you some games then."
The baby watched her with wide eyes, all the way until they couldn't see each other anymore.
As Liz laid in bed, she thought about her sister. She wondered why Patty calmed down so quickly when Liz held her hand. She wondered if sisters always felt so in sync.
As she fell asleep, she figured that she was just already good at being a big sister. Nothing else to it.
Life had gotten busy since Patty came along. Her mother still had yet to return, and no one would answer her questions about it. When she finally saw her father again, Liz clung to his leg and refused to let go until he told her. She nearly tore a hole in the seam before he picked her up, sat her in a chair, and looked her straight in the eye.
Patty had their father's eyes.
"Your mother isn't coming back," he told her, voice stiff but eyes watery. "She died."
Liz quirked her head, lip trembling. "Why?"
"Patricia came early. She was supposed to come after your birthday, remember?" Liz nodded. "She came early, and it's not good when that happens. Your mother's body couldn't take the stress of it, and she died. We had to cut Patricia out of her."
"You cut her?" Tears spilled out of Liz's eyes and she jumped out of the chair, only for her father to catch her and put her right back in it, his hands firmly on her shoulders, keeping her in place.
"It was the only way to save your sister, Elizabeth."
"Then you should've saved mommy!" She screamed, struggling against his grip.
"That's not how it works," her father sighed. "If we hadn't, they both would have died. Now the fact of the matter is that your mother is gone, and that means you are the lady of the house. You have to be a good older sister to Patricia, and help Miss Mary where you can. When you're older, you'll learn more."
"No!" Liz sobbed, not listening. Her mother was never coming back, and it was Patty's fault. It wasn't fair. Why did Patty get to live but her mother didn't?
Her father couldn't offer an answer. He called for Miss Mary to come and help, and she did, cradling the nearly-four year old and taking her back to her room. Together, they sat on her bed, and Miss Mary let Liz cry as long as she liked.
"Why is Patty here but mommy isn't?" She asked, sniffling, once she had calmed down.
Miss Mary sighed. "Mistress died so Miss Patricia could live, and join you here. Sometimes… Sometimes bad things happen, Elizabeth. I'm sorry it happened to you so young."
Liz wasn't listening to Miss Mary's muttered apologies. Mistress died so Miss Patricia could live. Why would she do that? Could it be reversed? Liz was sure that it could. Her mom was gone so Patty could be here — so if Patty was gone, her mother would come back.
The only issue was that Liz didn't know how to make Patty go away. She was a baby, she couldn't walk yet. And what if it had to be a specific way? Her mother and Miss Mary told stories about sleeping Princesses, where only true love's kiss could break the spell. What if Patty had to go in a specific way, like the true love's kiss?
She'd have to be careful. She probably only had one chance.
As Liz's fourth birthday approached, Miss Mary dressed her and Patty up in black, and they got to ride in her father's fancy car. They went to a place with a lot of weird rocks that Liz wasn't allowed to climb on, and they gathered around a big, black box.
When they opened it, her mother was inside, and she jumped for joy. They had lied to her — her mother was fine. She ran up to greet her, but was caught by her father, who frowned at Miss Mary.
"Elizabeth," he stressed. "Your mother is not alive. She's going into the ground now. You won't see her anymore. She can't talk, she isn't breathing, she's cold," his eyes were watering again. "I'm sorry, but you have to understand. Your mother is gone."
The box was put in the ground, just as her father said it would be. They had closed it again before burying it. One of those weird rocks was at the front of the hole. Liz was not a great reader, but she could tell it said something .
Everyone was crying, and she started crying, too. This was Patty's fault. She had to make Patty go away so that her mother would come out of the hole, and do all those things her father said she couldn't do anymore. Her mom didn't like dirt — she had to hurry.
But she still didn't know how, until the night before her birthday, she was graced with insomnia. Sneaking around the house, she caught the door to her father's room open. He wasn't inside, but the TV was playing, and there was something shiny on the bed.
She crept inside. The TV was quiet, but she didn't need to hear the words. There was a man, holding something in his hand, pointing it at another man. His mouth moved, and the thing he was holding exploded — the explosion hit the other man, and he fell down. The show then cut to the man who fell being put in a box, just like the one her mother had been in.
That must've been how it happened. The thing — long and silver and explodey — must've been what made her mother go away, just like on the TV.
That's when the shiny thing on the bed caught her eye.
Just like in the TV show, it was a long, silver, explodey thing. She stood on her tiptoes and pulled it off the bed — it was heavier than she expected, and she had to hold it with both hands. This was how she would get rid of Patty. This was how she would get her mom back.
Liz carried the silver thing down the hall, her bare feet tapping on the hardwood floor. She had to set it down to open the door to Patty's room, but it didn't slow her long.
Patty was asleep in her crib, and Liz walked up to her, glaring. This baby, this sweet baby that she had fallen in love with her first night home, was the reason her mother was gone. And now, Liz had the means to bring her back.
She raised the silver thing, trying and failing to hold it like the man on the TV had, but couldn't figure out how to make it explode. Try as she might, the only part that moved wouldn't click. Perhaps she wasn't strong enough.
Patty cooed, and opened her eyes to look at her sister. She reached out a chubby hand, and Liz knew she wasn't strong enough. Her eyes filled with tears as she dropped the silver thing and held Patty's hand with both of hers, sobbing.
"You didn't mean to make her go away, did you?" She asked. Patty merely babbled something incoherent. "She loved you. You wouldn't make her go away if she loved you."
Liz held her sister's hand tight, perhaps too tight for a newborn. She sat, hiccuping in the dark, until the door slammed open and she jumped.
She heard a loud popping sound, like an explosion, and saw a small burst of pinkish-purple light that allowed her to see her father's shocked face. He fell backwards with a thump, and Patty cried. Liz's ears rang, and she covered them, lip quivering. She was a big sister now. Big sister's don't cry.
Her dad got up, groaning. "What the hell was that?"
Liz didn't answer, and he spotted the silver thing on the floor beside her. He took it and put it on the changing table, before lifting Liz in one arm, and Patty in the other. He sat on the floor, against the wall, holding and shushing his daughters.
"Mommy's gone," Liz said at some point, sniffling.
He stroked her hair. "Yes."
"Patty did it."
"Yes," he sighed. "But you can't blame her. She didn't try to do it, it just happened. Sometimes bad things happen, Elizabeth." His voice trembled. "Sometimes bad things happen."
"Why?"
"I wish I knew," he chuckled, dry and almost a cough. "But you have to be a big girl now, okay? You have to be a good big sister. Can you do that for me?"
Liz was laying on her father's chest, listening to his heartbeat. Patty kicked against her, squirming in her father's grasp. She was four now. A big kid.
She nodded. She'd be a good big sister. Anything for Patty.