Chapter Text
It would make sense that he didn’t know what to do—he had barely spoken with Luz, and the times he had, it was usually him trying to kill her, or arrest her family, or something along those lines. The first time he had found himself vulnerable around her, he had quickly ruined any semblance of friendship with the human.
And then following that, he had run away when things had become too complicated. Luz had tried so hard to help him, even though he had done nothing but push her away. But, she had known too much. He knew too much.
Hunter couldn’t bear to go back to the Emperor’s Coven. But he also couldn’t accept that somebody was willing to care about him.
So he had run.
And he had kept on running until he found himself soaked by the cold of human rain. He was confused, and terrified, and hurt. But somehow, he wasn’t alone. They had followed Luz through the pouring rain, the green foliage and crisp air of the human realm foreign to them all.
They had followed her until the trees broke away, a smoothly paved and unnecessarily large pathway in front of them. Luz mumbled something about staying out of the pathway—which in Hunter’s mind, made no sense. Why have a pathway, if nobody was going to use it? Blasphemy.
But he listened. And was thankful that he did, when minutes later, a terrifying monster with eyes of pure light zipped past them.
If you asked him: he was not scared. Hunter certainly didn’t scream just as loudly, if not louder, than Gus, Willow, and Amity. He was afraid of nothing. Barring a few things. But for the most part, nothing.
Eventually, the group arrived at a small house. Hunter wrapped a protective arm around Gus as they followed the path up to a wooden porch. They stood idly as Luz opened up a screen, rummaging under the doormat for a key before she hesitated.
She put the key back and knocked three times against the wood.
It swung open, revealing a woman who bore a strong resemblance to Luz. She gasped, cupping her mouth with her hand. Luz stepped forward, a forced smile on her face.
“Hey, Mom,” she started awkwardly. “I’m back.”
The woman—Luz’s mother—wasted no time in sprinting towards her daughter, engulfing the teenager in a tight embrace. She ran her fingers through Luz’s here, whispering words Hunter couldn’t understand into her ears.
“Baby, I’m so glad you’re home,” the woman sobbed. “But you’re hurt. And… and you brought friends? Ay, where are my manners? Inside, all of you. You must be so cold!”
Hunter didn’t bother to interject, to correct the woman. He and Luz weren’t friends. In fact, he was certain Luz probably was mad at him for whatever she had dealt with when she had taken his place. He should have never let her.
But another part of him wanted to keep pretending that he could live that lie. That he could be one of her friends—one of the people she cared for unconditionally. It sounded nice.
Another girl, this one practically a carbon copy of Luz, poked her head into the room they had been ushered into. She opened her mouth, as if to ask a question, but quickly closed it. She exchanged a look with Luz’s mother, who nodded.
She entered the room.
“Vee!” Luz exclaimed, approaching the other girl and hugging her.
A sister, most likely.
“I’m going to go get some of Manny’s old clothes out of the attic. Vee, can you get some of your and Luz’s clothes out for the rest of them?” Luz’s mother addressed Luz’s sister, who nodded, dashing down a hallway. Luz’s mother followed.
Hunter spared a look at Luz, who now bore a tight expression. He raised an eyebrow.
She was home, right? Why was getting changed so upsetting?
Luz mumbled something he couldn’t understand, and sat down on the couch, pulling her legs in tight. Amity sat down next to her, taking Luz’s hand, and rubbing her thumb against it. Within seconds, Luz’s head was dropped onto the youngest Blight’s shoulder, her eyes clenched shut.
There were footsteps, and the two Nocedas re-entered the room, one with a box labeled ‘Manny’, and the other with a pile of clothes in her arms. Luz’s mother places the box down, wiping sweat from her brow, and then opening it up.
Vee dropped the pile of clothes onto the carpet, crouching down to spread out the assortment.
“I kind of donated a lot of stuff while you were gone, so… a lot of it is new. Sorry, Luz,” Vee rubbed the back of her head. Luz didn’t seem to really notice, grunting out a response, probably some affirmation that it was alright.
“Manny’s old clothes will probably fit the brooding big guy best,” Luz’s mom laughed, gesturing towards the box. “You can go through it. Pick out whatever you’d like. You can keep anything that strikes your fancy.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Luz squeezed Amity’s hand tighter.
“Thank you, Luz’s mother Ma’am,” he bowed his head.
“Please, just call me Camila. It’s not every day Luz brings home a boy, you know,” the woman teased with a wink. “Honestly, I’m glad she’s made friends. Ooh, I get to show you all her baby photos!”
“Mami, please. I don’t… I don’t think it’s a good time for jokes right now, okay?” Luz whispered softly from her spot on the couch. Willow and Gus had joined them, the bespectacled girl wrapping her arms around the illusionist. “Sorry. Maybe another time. It’s been a long day.”
“Of course, Mija. I’m sorry for that,” Camila smiled, but just like with Luz, he could tell it was forced. “I didn’t catch your friends’ names—would you mind telling me?”
“We… didn’t throw them?” Hunter asked, confusion written all over his face. Luz snorted, sitting up a little straighter.
“It’s an expression. But, the girl with the braids is Willow,” the girl waved, “this is Amity,” she lifted the hand that was entwined with the lilac-haired witch, “The boy with Willow is Gus, and the bad-but-sad-boy is Hunter.”
“Okay,” Camila nodded. “Hunter, pick out what clothes you want from the box. Don’t worry about taking anything—I promise you, they haven’t been used in a long time. Amity, you’ll definitely fit into anything from Luz and Vee’s closet. Gus, I’m sure Luz’s hoodies will fit you. And Willow—you can borrow some of my clothes if you’d like.”
Hunter frowned, rummaging through the box. He pulled out a few shirts, all with strange comics and graphics printed onto them. He held one up, the text reading I Tell Dad JoKEs Periodically, with strange numbers in the corner of each box that spelled out ‘Jokes’. It was… strange.
Suddenly, it was ripped from his hands, and he looked down to find Luz clutching it to her chest, tears in the corners of her eyes.
“You—you can’t have this one,” she rasped out. Camila frowned, reaching out toward her daughter. “It’s his. It’s—it’s not yours to give away, Mami.”
“Luz, nobody is using it. It’s been in the attic for five years. Somebody else might as well make use of them,” Camila sighed, pulling Luz into a hug. “Please, baby?”
The human who had seemed so strong for all those months broke down crying, the shirt clutched so tightly in her hands that her knuckles turned white. He noticed Camila squeeze tightly, how Luz leaned into it, the tears still streaming down her face.
He had no idea what to do, what was going on.
“Just… just not this one. It was the last one I gave him. It’s his. It’s only his,” Luz babbled into her mother’s just. “It’s Papi’s. Only Papi’s.”
Oh.
This was her father’s stuff.
Hunter didn’t know what to do about that.
It had been two days since they had arrived in the human realm, Willow noted. The calender in the Noceda household’s kitchen updated daily: a neat red line slicing through each day that passed.
In that time, Luz had started to shut down more and more. Gone was the energetic and bubbly girl that they knew and loved. Deep, deep, deep, down she was still in there. But wherever she was, it was far away from them all.
Willow missed Luz’s antics. It was as if the human hid behind a dam, terrified of unleashing it. The plant witch knew that Luz needed to break, to let it all out. Until that happened, nobody would be able to get through to her. Amity had been trying. Ms. Noceda had been trying. Heck, even Hunter had been trying.
Ms. Noceda had been the one to suggest going into town. Luz numbly had agreed, and now, the group found themselves wandering about the human realm.
There were the barest pinpricks of light in Luz’s eyes as she held hands with Amity. It was nice, Willow thought, to see Luz coming out of the shell he had holed herself into after her initial breakdown upon returning to the human realm. They all knew that Luz blamed herself for what happened.
Even though it wasn’t anywhere close to being her fault. Luz had the biggest heart of them all.
Sometimes, it was too big. She took the blame for things she had no part in. Things she couldn’t have known. Things beyond her control. It broke Willow’s heart to see her best friend wallowing in self-hatred.
Luckily, Ms. Noceda’s plan to get Luz’s mind off of it seemed to be working. The woman knew her daughter best, after all. Or at least, Willow assumed such based off of the way Luz spoke of her mother.
“This is the bookstore!” Luz gestured towards the building, the beginnings of a smile on her face. “It’s where I get all of my Good Witch Azura books,” she winked at Amity, “It also has a ton of really fun places to just relax and read. I spent a lot of time here.”
“So it’s like the Bonesborough library?” Amity’s eyes sparkled in awe. “That’s so cool! Is this where you can find the human book worms you told me about?”
Luz laughed softly, opening up slowly. “You’re looking right at one, Sweet Potato! It’s a nickname for people who like books a lot, not an actual worm, or anything like that.”
“Luzer is another good one!” a group of three or so girls snickered from a bit down the sidewalk. Immediately, Luz clammed up, her hand stiffening in Amity’s grasp. “Did she actually trick people into being her friend? That’s so embarrassing.”
“I bet her mom is paying them to hang out with her,” another snorted. “As if anybody would actually want to hang out with that freak. Hey, blonde guy!”
Hunter frowned, and Willow watches as his eyebrows creased. One of the girls spat out a word—certainly an insult, given Luz’s reaction to it—but Willow didn’t recognize it. She’d have to ask Ms. Noceda what it meant, later.
“You seem like, actually cool,” the second girl continued, approaching Hunter and looking him up and down. It stirred something in Willow’s gut, and she found herself resisting the urge to pummel these girls into the ground. How dare they insult her best friend and then act like nothing happened? She couldn’t stand people like this. “Ditch the freak, have some fun?”
“Okay,” Hunter shrugged. “Honestly, I’ll gladly ditch the freak. It’ll be a huge weight off of my shoulders.”
Willow was going to sock him in the face. Luz ripped her hand away from Amity, taking off into the bookstore. Without hesitation, Amity followed, leaving her and Gus alone with Hunter and the bullies.
“Great, great!” the mean human giggled. “Come on.”
“I said I was ditching the freak, though?” Hunter smirked, turning on his heel, and leaving the girl standing with her friends, her jaw hanging open. Willow stifled a snort, entering the store Luz had told them about minutes beforehand.
“You gave them what they deserved, but next time, probably do it in a way that doesn’t make Luz think you hate her, okay?” Willow rested a hand on his shoulder. “Because I was also about to punch you in the gut. I think Gus was planning your murder.”
“I was,” the boy affirmed. “But seriously, what just happened?”
“I think,” Willow sighed, “I think that was the human realm’s own version of Boscha.”
“Who’s Boscha?” Hunter tilted his head.
“She’s a bully,” Willow scowled. “Enough of that, though. We need to find Luz. She looked ready to break down earlier. I really hope that Amity found her already.”
As luck would have it, Amity and Luz were huddled up in the corner of the store. Luz’s head was tucked into the crook of her girlfriend’s neck as she cried, knuckles white as she gripped onto Amity’s clothes. The youngest Blight scowled at Hunter as he came into view.
“What the actual fuck, Hunter?” she spat.
“Hold on! No fighting, okay? Hunter was trying to turn that girl’s words against her, basically. He told her that she was the freak and then we came inside to find you guys,” Gus stepped in before the lilac-haired girl could pounce. “Luz, we do not hate you.”
“And we don’t blame you for absolutely anything. Those girls were wrong. You’re not a freak, or a loser. I don’t know what the other word meant, but I could tell it was an insult,” Willow sucked in a deep breath. “But whatever it was; it’s not true. We love you unconditionally, got that?”
“You’re one of the only people in my entire life who has cared about me, especially when I didn’t deserve it,” Hunter sat down next to the human. “I still don’t think I deserve it, but I’m working on that. You’re an amazing person, Luz. I’m… I’m sorry those girls can’t see that. I’m sorry that I didn’t see that sooner, too.”
“It’s fine,” Luz grumbled. “It’s stupid, anyways. They hate me because I’m weird and different. I know that’s what makes me special, too, but after so long of it being normal in the Isles… I guess I forgot to toughen up or whatever. I don’t know. It’s silly. We should go home, I’m sorry for ruining your guys’ day out.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, Luz,” Amity pursed her lips, sliding her fingers through Luz’s ponytail. “Those girls did.”
“Clara,” Luz whispered. “That was Clara, Sage, and Lauren.”
“Well, they suck,” Gus huffed. “They’re really missing out, you know. Being your friend is the best.”
“Thanks, Gus,” Luz wiped at her tears. “I am still feeling kind of overwhelmed, though. So… can we go back? I’m sorry.”
They chastised her for apologizing again, and then headed back to the Noceda residence. Willow observed as Luz leaned closer to Amity the entire walk back. Her head dipped low, her free hand fidgeting with the collar of Eda’s jacket.
Once they were back, and Luz was settled on the couch, napping in Amity’s arms, Willow helped out in the kitchen. Ms. Noceda was cooking dinner—something she called an empanada, which smelled delicious —and Willow was chopping up vegetales.
A comfortable silence settled over the two, as they fell into a rhythm. Chop, slide, sizzle. The aroma of homemade food filled the room.
“Ms. Noceda?” Willow began softly, sliding the last of the vegetables into the bowl of ground meat.
“You can call me Camila, sweetheart,” the woman smiled. Willow nodded. “Alright, what’s up?”
“I wanted to ask you what a word means,” the girl in glasses sheepishly admitted, taking the cutting board over to the sink and beginning to wash it.
“In Spanish?” Camila asked.
“I uh, don’t really know. I just know it’s an insult,” she sighed.
“Did Luz say it?” the brown-eyed woman raised an eyebrow. “Ay, if she’s teaching you guys insults…”
“No, no. It was something some girls said to her. They interrupted us and started calling her names. They also made some jabs about you paying us to be her friends, or something. She got really upset,” Willow began to dry the cutting board, eager to occupy her hands. “I’ve never heard the word before though.”
“Oh,” Camila bit her lip. “She was bullied?”
“You… didn’t know? It didn’t seem like the first time,” Willow swallowed. “In the Boiling Isles, Luz would sometimes briefly mention it before changing the subject. She didn’t talk much about her life here. Whenever she did, she’d start talking about something else right after. The only thing she actually seemed to enjoy talking about was you.”
“She never told me,” Camila whispered. “I knew she didn’t have friends. That’s… that’s why I wanted her to go to camp. I just… she never told me that she was bullied. What did—what did they say?”
“They called her a loser, a freak, and…” Willow paused, “and then the word that I don’t know.”
“Which was..?”
Willow recited it. Camila paled, dropping the plate she was holding.
“What were their names.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand—one that Willow happily obliged to. “Ay, those… those… I can’t insult them, that would be irresponsible of me. But, God above, do I want to.”
“Can I ask what the word means?” Willow whispered. It must have been bad to make Camila this angry.
“It’s a slur. It’s… I want it to be Luz’s choice to tell you guys why those girls said it to her, but by the dictionary it’s meaning is in regards to somebody who is less advanced in their mental or physical development. People twisted it into a harsh insult, though.”
The pale witch reached for Camila’s hand, squeezing it gently.
“Luz is one of the best people I’ve ever met,” she smiled. “Right now, it probably feels like… I don’t know what it feels like, and I’m not able to make up a word on the spot like Luz can. But my point is, all of us care about her a lot. She’s not okay right now. But we’ll stay with her through it. We won’t leave her.”
A tear slipped down Camila’s face. “I’m… I’m so happy that my baby girl finally has friends. They said that she couldn’t but… but just look at her now. Thank you, so much, Willow. You and the others are everything we’ve ever wanted for Luz. Manny would love you all so much.”
“What does this do?” Gus was buzzing with excitement. They had been in the human realm for a week now, and there had been so much to learn. He had to know everything! As soon as possible! Before he exploded, or something.
“That’s a stim toy,” Luz shrugged, picking up the object he had been pointing at. Gus watched in awe as she spun the cube around, pressing different buttons, and flicking different switches. “It doesn’t really do anything, but it’s just been something my doctor recommended for me. I guess it helps me keep my hands busy?”
“So it’s medication?” Gus jotted down a few notes. “Interesting, interesting. Tell me more! What other ‘stim toys’ have you been prescribed? What does it help cure?”
Luz blinked, registering the question. “There isn’t a cure.”
“Oh, like Eda’s curse?” he jotted down a few more notes. The human realm was just so… so fascinating! He wanted to learn everything instantly. If only he had something at his disposal to which he could ask any question he wanted.
“I answered that weirdly, sorry,” Luz laughed, continuing to flick one of the switches on the strange cube in her hands. “I’m not sick. I just, was born with a brain that works differently from other humans. I think and act differently, and some things are a lot harder for me than they are for other people. I have a lot of stuff to help me, though.”
“Fascinating,” Gus’ eyes were practically sparkling. “Does this condition have a name?”
“Yeah. Autism,” Luz pushed one of the buttons quite harshly. “Could you not tell the others, though? I don’t… I don’t want them to think different of me.”
“Why would they think different of you? You were born with it, right?” Luz nodded. “So nothing’s changed. You’re still the awesomest best friend ever.”
Luz laughed grimly. “I wish everybody thought like that.”
“Do people here act weird about it?” the young illusionist looked up from his notebook, observing the face his friend made. Luz looked sad. He didn’t like that. “Do you want to stop talking about it?”
“Huh? No, it’s fine,” Luz waved her hand numbly. “It’s stupid, I shouldn’t still have this mindset after everything. I know there’s nothing wrong with me. The human realm is just… gosh, I shouldn’t be dumping this all on you. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, Luz,” Gus frowned, abandoning his notes and sitting down next to her. “Do you… want to keep talking about it?”
“I don’t really know. I haven’t really… I haven’t really talked about it since I was diagnosed. The human realm isn’t very nice to people who are different, and—” Luz gestured towards herself, “I’m practically the walking definition of different. I’m a bisexual autistic afro-latina girl in Connecticut.”
“I don’t know what any of that means,” Gus deadpanned.
“It basically means I have to be terrified for my life if I’m not one-hundred percent sure that I’m safe,” Luz grumbled. “Woof, that came out dark. Sorry ‘bout that.”
“You can be hurt for just…existing?” the witch asked, nervous for the answer. He spent his entire life idolizing this realm, dreaming of visiting it one day. He didn’t think humans to be so cruel, especially after meeting Luz. She was just so nice, it had never crossed his mind that not all humans were like her.
She sighed. “Yeah. It’s… really not a pretty world.”
“Have people hurt you? For the stuff you mentioned?” Gus looked down at his lap, finding the cube Luz had been holding pushed into his hands. He gratefully began to fidget with the different assets—it calmed him down, strangely enough.
“Kind of, I guess,” came Luz’s reply. “I haven’t really been physically hurt. Some bullies at school would shove me, or throw a punch if they were having a particularly bad day—but they could have also just genuinely hated me. Verbally… happens more often. People’ll call you slurs and all sorts of mean things. They’ll wish horrible things upon you. It’s scary, but you have to learn to deal with it, I guess?”
“That’s horrible.”
“I know.”
“So, uh… what does that do?” Gus pointed at a random object in the room.
“That’s the Dominican flag,” Luz beamed as she answered. “That’s where my Mami and Papi are from. It’s another country, we’re in America right now. It’s still part of our culture, though. Like Spanish! It’s the native language there.”
“Wow! How many countries are there?” Gus’ eyes began to sparkle again.
“Gosh, wow. I actually failed geography, so I don’t know. We can google it?” Luz laughed her reply, scratching the back of her head.
“What’s a google?” Gus picked up his notebook once again, clicking his pen. “Tell me everything.”
“Google is a search engine. You can ask it any question, and it answers it for you!” Luz explained. “I’ll talk to my mom about giving you my old phone. Then, you can learn anything you want about the human realm whenever you want!”
Gus was practically drooling at the thought.
“Yes! That sounds like everything I’ve ever wanted and more!”