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The exhaustion was the worst part of it all. The bleeding wrists that scraped against the metal shackles she hung from, she could deal with easily enough. Even the burning sensation that engulfed her hands was just annoying more than anything else.
The helplessness was a close second, though, the brunette never quite getting used to that goddess forsaken collar that left her feeling incomplete and vulnerable.
Still, it was the exhaustion that impacted the captured witch the most, both physically and mentally. She already hadn’t properly slept since Raelle disappeared for a variety of reasons, the major one being the dread and anxiety over the blonde fixer’s well-being. While the others slept, Scylla spent hours researching and trying to reach out to Raelle.
On the rare occasions that she did sleep, Scylla wished she hadn’t. Because every time she would slowly blink her eyes open after accidentally giving into the exhaustion, she would reach for Raelle.
Just as she had become accustomed to thanks to all those mornings waking up to the blonde witch while on the run.
She would reach for Raelle, only to find herself alone. And everything would come rushing back in one extremely unpleasant wave. She would remember losing Raelle all over again, the terribly familiar feeling coming on as if she were feeling it for the first time.
So, Scylla had made a habit of getting as little shut-eye as possible. A habit they seemed to be catching up to her at the current moment.
And even if Scylla thought it safe enough to fall asleep on that auditorium stage with the Camarilla soldier eyeing her down like a hawk, those chains meant she couldn’t.
She had drifted off a few times, only to immediately dart her eyes right back open at the excruciating pain that resulted from her entire body weight shifting to her hands, particularly her wrists. Wrists that had become raw and cut up after struggling so intensely against the chains out of Scylla’s false perception that she could wiggle out of them.
She couldn’t.
Her feet could barely reach the floor even on her tip-toes, so dangling completely by her injured wrists didn’t exactly feel very great to the brunette; a fact the soldier had noticed and capitalized on.
When Scylla would position herself so that she stood semi-comfortably, the man would kick her feet out from under her, sending a sharp pain to her wrists as she struggled to find her footing all over again.
What sickened Scylla the most was the sadistic grin on his face as he did so.
Then he would call in some witches to try and break into Scylla’s memories, searching for some sign of the fugitives’ whereabouts.
Even in her exhaustion, Scylla held her ground. As tiring as it was, she kept the witches out of her memories every single time, like clockwork.
She had finally gotten Raelle back (sort of, at least), and there wasn’t a shot in hell she would give that up.
Her captor quickly realized they wouldn’t get any information out of her, but certainly not for a lack of trying.
“Where is she?” The soldier asked for the umpteenth time, twirling a knife in his coarse hands.
“Can’t take no for an answer, huh, big guy?” Scylla snarked, her voice tired yet unwavering. The soldier had to admit, the girl had a knack for resilience.
“You get one last chance, witch. Tell me where the Witch Bomb is.”
At this, Scylla audibly scoffed, even as her head lolled slightly, not maintaining eye contact with the knife-wielding man.
“Or else what? You’ll run back to mommy to tell her I didn’t squeak? I’m sure telling your big bad boss that you failed to intimidate a witch half your size will go real well.”
Even as the exhaustion crept into her vision and poked at the edge of her eyesight, which she had to blink away, Scylla maintained a sarcastic, superior tone throughout.
The man laughed a cold, dry chuckle as he clipped his knife to his belt for the time being.
Though Scylla would never show it, she had to admit that she wasn’t quite sure how long she would be able to prolong the “Slaughterhouse” living up to its nickname. Still, she put on a facade of confidence. Even despite worrying that she’d never see Raelle again. The mere thought of Raelle having to deal with Scylla’s death was too overwhelming to let in, or else the only highground Scylla had - her confidence - would undoubtedly dissipate.
“If you tell me where the fugitives are, we’ll make sure the blonde stays alive.”
Though the offer caught Scylla’s attention, she refused to consider it, even for a second.
“I’m not giving up my friends.”
And “Alive” wasn’t always better than dead, Scylla left unsaid. There were far worse things the Camarilla could do to Raelle than kill her.
Scylla’s voice had been a little too serious for her liking, and she could see the twinkle in the man’s eye, assuming the man had thought he was making progress. Much to Scylla’s dismay, that was not what the twinkle meant in the slightest.
“Suit yourself. That little offer was my last order from up above. Know what that means, witch?”
That you’ll kill me. And I’ll never see Raelle again.
But that’s not what came out.
“That you’ll kill me,” Scylla started out the same, but ended, “And admit your failure to your up above?”
“No.” The terse reply was much more ominous than Scylla would have liked.
The soldier propelled himself onto the stage, closing the gap between himself and Scylla with a few steps. His hands reached to the back of Scylla’s neck to remove the collar, taking the knife back out of his belt to assist him. He was far too close for comfort, and his hot breath against Scylla’s face sent disgusted chills down her spine.
“Actually, the big bad boss said I could get myself a nice voice out of this partnership if you didn’t talk,” He fiddled around with the collar a little too long, pressing his knife into it. Scylla felt the pressure a little too strongly. “Didn’t want to let a nice catch go to waste.”
The voice was deep, terrifying, and even giddy if Scylla listened hard enough. The threat was exactly what Scylla had been fearing, but she thought she had enough time before then to figure out something .
“Between you and me,” he added as he unclasped the collar, the device clanging upon falling to the floor. He whispered into her ear as he pulled away, “I’m glad you didn’t talk.”
Scylla wasted very little time before letting out a low vibrato, attempting Spree work to get the man to release her.
The sound barely lasted a second before dying off, Scylla’s lack of energy apparent as she blinked away the dots in her vision. The endeavor only left her even more drained than before, immediately regretting the counterproductive motion.
The man laughed.
“That won’t work here. That will never work again.”
With that, Scylla sharply brought up her knee, striking him in a particular area.
He immediately staggered back, groaning in pain and barely managing to not fall off the stage as he doubled over in agony and dropped the knife to the floor.
“You’re sick.” Scylla spat venomously as the soldier kept trying to compose himself.
When he did, he looked up at her with pure hatred in his eyes.
“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this.”
His words were accompanied by his reaching to the ground and re-establishing his hold on the knife.
He began his ascent toward Scylla, who gulped as she struggled to not panic.
Her fate was once again up to her, and now was the time to act. But she was just so tired .
She had to think of something, and fast.
Until she didn’t have to.
“Unlock her. Now.”
To both Scylla and the soldier’s surprises, a particularly angry witch’s voice rang throughout the auditorium, echoing across the walls. As soon as Scylla registered the voice, she knew the man would not, in fact, enjoy this.
Scylla immediately looked toward the source of the sound, unconsciously smirking as she saw the familiar blonde standing at the entrance, strikingly beautiful even in the poor lighting.
A part of her had wondered if the cadets had actually seen Raelle, as they had claimed, so seeing her now and her being very much real led to more wonderful a feeling than Scylla could ever explain.
Raelle glanced at her, her intimidating complexion fading immediately upon eye contact. She raised her eyebrows slightly, staring at Scylla for just a moment too long before she remembered the situation at hand. All she wanted to do was get lost in those deep blue eyes, but she couldn’t. Not yet.
She re-adjusted her expression as quickly as it had fallen, back to the angry stare directed toward the Camarilla soldier, who had turned around to look at her with the knife still clenched in his hand.
He analyzed the situation for a moment before commenting, “So you’re the famous Witch Bomb, huh?”
“Wanna see how I got the nickname?” Raelle turned her head with slightly scrunched eyebrows as Scylla could see the man’s hands physically shake, even if only slightly.
He glanced between the two witches before deciding his next action.
Without warning, the soldier pivoted toward Scylla, arm wound as he prepared to throw the knife.
But Raelle was too quick. By the time the knife had barely left the man’s fingertips, the mycelium had already reached both the soldier and the metal projectile.
The knife disintegrated midair, and the soldier let out a pained yell as a yellow glow engulfed his body. Scylla winced at the sudden light, only opening her eyes when it started to fade.
As the mycelium’s cloud dissipated, Scylla’s groggy eyes could just barely make out a figuring emerging.
Before the brunette knew it, Raelle had used a single, very accurate windstrike to knock out the shackles suspending her in the air.
Her wrists hissed at the release, and her legs felt too weak to support her for more than a few seconds, but none of that mattered. She didn’t have to support herself this time.
Not with Raelle running toward her, the most love-struck, in-awe gaze grasping hold of the blonde’s features and spreading to Scylla’s.
As their lips clashed, Raelle’s hands found themselves clasping Scylla’s cheeks as if simply by habit. She kissed Scylla resolutely yet gently all at once. Beautifully, yet tragically as two halves of a whole reunited after so much painful distance between.
Scylla’s own hands gripped Raelle’s waist, deepening the kiss and ignoring her aching wrists.
With the two witches alone in that auditorium, nothing could feel more right. Their surroundings simply melted away, as if the seats, curtains, stairs, and the entire room were all aware of the fact that they’d never compare to the connection at the stage’s center.
Both Raelle and Scylla relaxed into the kiss at it neared its end, releasing so much built-up tension and just happy to be home again.
It was only when the two physically needed to breathe that Raelle reluctantly pulled away, maintaining contact between their foreheads as she pressed hers to Scylla’s, both sets of blue eyes remaining closed.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
Raelle was the first to speak.
Scylla was the first to open her eyes, making sure just one more time that Raelle was indeed there and real. Raelle soon followed, as if she had sensed Scylla’s eyes opening. Their eyes locked together, the intensity palpable in the minor space between them.
“Not as much as I’ve missed you.”
Scylla spoke as though it were an irrefutable statement, and perhaps it was.
“Oh, I’ve been told. I heard there are no animals left in the cession.”
Raelle joked playfully, her mouth twisting into a smirk that couldn’t help itself but turn into a smile as Scylla leaned into her forehead more, an equally as large smile growing on the brunette’s own face.
Both smiles began to fall, however, as Scylla faltered during the small movement, the adrenaline of their reunion clearly beginning to wear off.
The brunette suddenly lost her balance, Raelle immediately going to steady her by the waist as her features twisted with concern.
“Hey, I’ve got you,” Raelle told her as she firmly held onto her waist with both hands, eyes scanning the older witch over for injuries and internally reprimanding herself for not already doing so.
“Where are you hurt?” Upon not seeing anything, Raelle could feel the panic building in her chest.
Scylla only shook her head, closing her eyes before replying, “My hands, but that’s not-”
Raelle gently lay Scylla down on the stage, propping her up against a wooden crate nearby.
Scylla’s head lolled against the top of the crate as Raelle carefully lifted up her sleeves, which stuck to skin, revealing raw wrists covered in deep scrapes and accompanied by both dried and fresh blood.
“Shit,” Raelle muttered as Scylla let out a soft, pained groan.
The blood loss certainly wasn’t helping with the exhaustion, a fact Scylla was sure of.
“It’s not that bad,” Scylla claimed, trying to reassure the blonde even though Scylla was probably in much more need of comforting.
Raelle looked over Scylla’s wrists, slowly turning them to see the extent of the damage.
“I think you nicked an artery or something,” She observed, positioning her hands over Scylla’s and ready to heal her. “This will be quick, just hold still.”
Her eyes closed, and she quickly muttered the needed words.
“ Ask and it shall be given to you. Seek and ye shall find. ”
After a few repetitions of the mantra, Scylla’s wrists slowly healed up, the only remnants of injury being the dried blood.
She instantly felt better, but that didn’t distract much from the fact that she was just so tired.
“Scyl?” Raelle urged as Scylla’s eyes remained shut, the blonde’s worry still very much evident.
“I’m okay,” She affirmed in a weak, low voice. “Just tired.”
“I know, Scyl,” She put one hand on Scylla’s knee, and the other on her cheek. Her thumb caressed Scylla’s jaw bone as the brunette leaned into the touch she had so deeply missed. “You can rest. I’ve got you.”
Scylla nodded, giving a weak smile.
Raelle got up from the ground, Scylla momentarily groaning in dismay until the blonde bent down to scoop Scylla up bridal-style.
Scylla wrapped her hands around the younger witch’s neck, nuzzling her head into the nook between Raelle’s shoulder and neck.
Raelle ever-so-carefully carried Scylla to the truck where her friends were waiting, Scylla falling fast asleep somewhere along the journey.
Scylla slept the entire way back to the Marshall’s house, her head resting in Raelle’s lap the whole time without interruption.
It was the best night’s sleep she’d gotten in a long, long time.
—————————-
By the time Scylla woke up, it was already daylight out. Not that Scylla could tell, however, with her head nudged into Raelle’s chest as the two occupied a bed at the Marshall’s house.
She awoke to the fixer running her hands through Scylla’s brown locks, pulling the witch against her in the most protective and warm hold Scylla had ever felt.
When the brunette began to stir in her grasp, Raelle spoke as gently as humanly possible.
“Scyl? You up?”
Scylla reluctantly pulled her head slightly away from Raelle, resting her head to a new spot on Raelle’s shoulder and not-so-much regretting the movement upon crossing her gaze into Raelle’s.
“Hey sleepyhead.”
Raelle could hardly contain her happiness as she brought her hand up to Scylla’s forehead, sweeping a few strands of hair away from her face and ultimately bringing her hand to rest against Scylla’s cheek.
Scylla blinked her eyes open groggily as she smiled, Raelle returning the favor.
Oh, how the two had missed waking up next to each other.
Raelle leaned down from her more upright position, propped up against a pillow, to peck Scylla on the lips.
“Took you long enough,” Scylla snarked, earning a feigned, offended gasp out of Raelle.
“Could’ve been sooner, but someone decided to go off and sacrifice herself the second before I came back.”
Though Raelle maintained her playful tone, Scylla could tell there were hints of Raelle being genuinely upset evident in her voice.
Scylla’s smile fell slightly as she looked away from Raelle for just a moment, soon returning her gaze. She spoke seriously.
“There was no other option. I had to make sure the others got away safely.”
“And what about you?” Raelle’s voice was also much more serious by now.
“Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Scylla smirked and went to kiss Raelle, but she stopped upon noticing Raelle’s still steadfast expression.
“If I was a few minutes later than I was, you wouldn’t be,” Raelle pointed out. And she wasn’t wrong. Scylla knew as much.
Raelle continued.
“It was noble, Scyl, but we don’t do that around here. When one of us goes down, we all do.” Raelle went to fiddle with a strand of Scylla’s hair. “You don’t have to carry everything on your own anymore.”
“I know.” And she did. Goddess, now she did. “It won’t happen again.”
“Oh damn right, not on my watch,” Raelle joked, bringing lightheartedness back into the conversation. “I already had a stern talk with Tally for letting you do it in the first place.”
Scylla gave a small smile.
“Consider your self-sacrificial tendencies cut off.”
“Deal,” Scylla agreed.
A moment of non-awkward silence passed before Raelle added one last comment.
“That was still pretty stupid of you, though.”
Scylla good-naturedly tilted her head, widened her eyes a bit, and raised her eyebrows, that smirk ever evident.
“Like, really, really dumb-”
Before Raelle could finish her sentence, Scylla was reaching her head up to Raelle’s lips with a propped elbow on the bed.
The kiss caught the blonde a bit off guard, but hey, she wasn’t complaining. Maybe she could let this one slide.
Scylla pulled away briefly, her eyes beckoning for more.
“We’ve got some time to kill before the others get back from recon,” Raelle teased, the smile on Scylla’s face growing tenfold.
Scylla wasted little time before kissing Raelle again through the smile. She deepened the kiss as she sat herself upright in the bed, never once breaking contact with Raelle’s lips.
Raelle grabbed onto Scylla’s waist, and neither witch got anymore sleep that morning.