Chapter Text
Chapter 1: One Thirty-Two
Was she really doing this?
Lisette bit at the inside of her bottom lip as her mismatched eyes flickered nervously to the only door to the room and back down at her phone, counting down each second she was alone. Would he help her? She couldn't imagine he'd just agree to this idea, let alone meet with her after their last interaction.
And she wouldn't blame him if he didn't show. She had been so horribly, insufferably, and childishly arrogant to him; her savior, her mentor, her friend...her family.
The minutes ticked by. She could no longer stand to stay still, so she paced back and forth from one end of the small, nearly barren space to the other.
A knock at the metal door had her pause and look up as the door slowly opened. Her heart soared while her stomach did flips. The man that walked through had large soulful eyes, his black hair was slicked back stylishly, his well-defined jaw clenched and lips pursed tightly.
Patrick.
One of the most powerful witches to exist. At this point, he was over 900 years old if her calculations were correct. He had saved her long ago when she had been on the run from Spanish Conquistadors. Her small village had lived in hiding when they were discovered and hunted down for their magical practices. Many from her village were merely herbalists and there were very few that truly practiced witchcraft. The Spanish didn't care though. They had deemed the entire village tainted and corrupt, doomed to hell regardless of 'repentance'.
Lisette had watched her mother be violated and humiliated before her head was removed from her body. Her father had been taken, most likely to be used as a labor force for the invaders. And Lisette herself, then known by another name, had been saved from being captured by Patrick. He had sailed with the conquistadors to settle on a new land. He never helped with the slaughter of the natives and saving Lisette had been his first time interfering.
From her rescue, Patrick took pity on her, seeing as both her parents were dead, the rest of the villagers had scattered to the wind, and her home was burnt to the ground, he took her with him as he roamed the land in search of a new home.
"I honestly didn't expect you to come." She said after a beat of silence.
He nodded, exhaling through his nostrils, before responding, "I'll admit, I didn't know if I would either."
God she hadn't realized how much she missed his Irish accent. Even with the amount of years he lived in English speaking countries, he never lost his distinct manner of speaking.
His eyes quickly roamed the small space. He took notice of the ritual circle on the ground made of salt, candles placed purposefully at certain points of the circle; a septagram, from his quick deduction. His gaze turned back to his protege. It truly had been a long time since they had seen each other.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, resting his dark eyes on her, a small smirk playing on his lips, "I was surprised to hear from you after so long. If I recall, I believe the last thing you said to me was: You have nothing left that holds my interest, old man, all you do is hold me back !"
Lisette had the decency to wince at the words she had yelled on that day. She couldn't even recall what the argument had been leading up to that point. It didn't matter anymore, but she was still ashamed of her reaction. She placed one hand on her hip, her other hand going up to scratch at her cheek in embarrassment, "Um, yeah...that was...that was a huge overreaction on my part, I...I'm sorry. For everything I said that day, Patrick. I really am."
Her mentor regarded her carefully. He had thought as much. Lisette had always been a hot head, a bit arrogant when it came to her magical prowess, and even childish at times. Having been his only student he ever took on, there was a sense of superiority that she developed when encountering other witches. Because of her perceived superiority, she often took failures to heart. She became frustrated and often retaliated in anger when she felt her magical talent was put into question or when it was not performing to the standards she felt were adequate. He, too, could not recall their argument, but the blowback of her words cut him deeply at the time.
He had been saddened when she walked away and never returned.
"You never came back," he stated simply, his tone soft and tender.
Lisette swallowed a whimper, her heart ached at his unsaid admittance of worry. She felt her eyes sting and prickle, a knot forming at the base of her throat. She looked away, more shame washing over her. She cleared her throat, "I- I was scared to face you again. I didn't think you'd want to see me again after what I said."
The older witch nodded in understanding. She feared his rejection and so, rejected him first to protect her fragile heart.
"Of course I wanted to see you."
The tears threatened to fall. Her vision was blurring. He was too good to her. Lisette could see that she took advantage of that too often, too late.
Blinking rapidly, she cleared her throat a second time.
"I need your help with performing a spell."
Patrick smiled sadly. He wished to continue their conversation but he could see the glistening of tears in her eyes. Even after all this time, she remained the deeply sensitive girl he raised.
"A big spell, from what I can gather." There was a plethora of ingredients by Lisette's feet, a few jars of blood, jars with clear liquid, bowls of snow-white powder, a couple of bones, and a variety of herbs.
"I want to plane-shift."
Patrick's eyes shot open wider, his brows furrowed at her reveal. He looked at her with worry.
"Now that is a powerful spell, that is. What is going on, love?"
Her heart gave a lurch at the old endearment. Again, another wave of guilt and shame overcame her that she couldn't look him in the eye.
"I was stupid. I made a deal without knowing the full extent of it. And now that I've backed out of it, I'm being hunted down."
His concern doubled, "Deal with who?"
Her brown and blue eyes flickered up to his for a second before lowering to the salt line in front of her.
"Crowley."
His look was not one of pity, but anguished concern. The space they had kept between them since their reunion was closed by Patrick himself as he made quick strides to Lisette, pulling her into his embrace. The familiar warmth that radiated from him, his hand settling on the crown of her head, stroking her brown strands in comfort.
" A cuisle mo chroí* ."
The tears she fought so hard to keep in, poured out in defiance of her effort. Her arms circled around his waist. She buried her face into the lapel of his suit as a sob erupted from deep with her chest.
"He was taking children," she cried. "He- He had me help him make a d-device that could locate traces of magic. And like a fool, I d-didn't ask any questions, I just completed the job! He kept them caged, Patrick! C-Caged!"
Patrick didn't interrupt, merely letting her release it.
"I don't know what he thought to do to them, but I-I got them out. I couldn't ju-just leave them there! I hid them all. I placed them with some coven's I trusted and then..."
"He came after you." Patrick finished softly.
She nodded into the crook of his neck, her shaking form still nestled safely within Patrick's hold. After a few minutes, her sniffles dying down to stuttered breaths, she stepped away from his embrace, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to unload that on you like that."
He shook his head, " A stóirín* ." He stepped forward and cupped his hands on her face, lifting her head as he stared down lovingly at her, "I can help you, love. We can take him together."
Lisette's brows furrowed, her eyes remorseful as she shook her head in his hold, "And have him come after you instead? I couldn't live with myself if I let that happen to you."
As he opened his mouth to argue, she shook her head more vigorously, bringing her finger up to his lips to silence him, "No, Patrick, you don't get it! He's not just any old demon anymore. He's got power now, he has reach and he will stop at nothing til my head is brought to him on a silver platter and a cherry on top. And that goes to anyone that stands with me."
His eyes darted back and forth between hers, fear and sadness reflecting in his dark orbs. He glanced quickly at the salted lines on the ground and then to the ingredients that littered the floor behind Lisette, before turning them back to her. His bottom lip trembled slightly, eyes glistening, "If you do this...you can't come back. You'll have no way back."
She was already nodding, eyes closed in resignation. "I know...I know."
When she opened them again, his lips were pursed, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils as he let go of his hold on her, turning to the septagram, his shoulders squared up, "We best get this started then."
The two went about setting up the ingredients in silence, each contemplating the consequences once the spell was to be performed.
The planes-shifting spell was not a precise one, there was never any sure-fire way to test and prove that it even worked as was theorized. The only sure thing was that every witch that had performed the spell was never seen again. This was Lisette's only way out, other than Crowley—by some miracle—croaking early. That was not likely to happen for several hundred years if he had anything to say about it.
The pair were done after a few minutes with Lisette taking a stand in the middle of the septagram and Patrick in front of her outside the boundaries of the salt lines.
Lisette lit the torches that had been set up while Patrick ignited the herbs.
The pair raised their hands up, palms open as they allowed their magic to flow and spread around the enclosed space. Lisette looked up and found Patrick already staring at her. She couldn't stop the tears from building up again.
"Patrick-"
He shook his head, "Wherever you end up, know that I walk with you in every breeze, in every drop of rain, in every ray of sunshine, ceann beag* ."
She could feel her heart shatter. She didn't want to go, how she ached to stay here, with him, to continue traveling the land with him, to continue to learn from him. But it was too late. She had been stupid and stubborn and foolish and now this was her punishment. Sure she would be free from Crowley, but at what cost?
Patrick began to chant as Lisette tried to fight back the tears rolling down her cheeks.
The lit fires blazed fiercely as they neared the end of the spell.
Lisette didn't take her eyes off of Patrick just as he never strayed his eyes away from her. Each taking in the other for the last time.
The salt lines began to glow. Lisette felt like something was pulling her backwards at the base of her spine. Her eyes widened at the feeling.
Patrick had a tear running down his cheek. This was her last chance.
"Patrick... Nimitzneki* ."
The last thing she saw was his trembling smile before the white glow engulfed the room in its bright light and she was thrown back against the room.
***
Her ears were ringing as she came to. She struggled with opening her eyes, her hands wildly feeling around the room.
"Patrick." Her voice sounded so muffled to her ears and she could feel a headache forming at the base of her skull, her right temple throbbing where she impacted with the wall.
She felt her heart sink. The spell didn't work. She had to leave soon before Crowley's minions found her and reported back to him.
As her eyes finally opened, she froze. Her vision was blurry but she could already tell that this was not the room she and Patrick had performed the spell. The room was filled with natural light from the windows that lined one side of the wall. She could see buildings and hear car horn's blaring. The room she had been in before was similar to a bunker, no windows and only one door in and out of it.
Lisette blinked a few times, everything finally coming into focus.
She was in an apartment. She could hear thumps from upstairs that sounded like footsteps. She seemed to be in the living room portion of the home. A low coffee table placed in front of a deep navy blue loveseat. An old box TV on top of a wood shelf was at the other end in front of the loveseat. Further in the apartment, she could see the separation between the living room and the kitchen from where the carpet cut off and the linoleum floor began.
Lisette stood on shaky legs, waiting a moment for her balance to return, moving ahead once the world stopped spinning.
The apartment was humble. Whomever lived here kept their few belongings organized and the space clean. Another shelf next to the TV stand was filled with academic books; maths and sciences and a larger section on child development. Turning her eyes toward the side where the loveseat sat was a side table with an old vintage umbrella lamp with tassels hanging from the ends. The wall cut off there and turned into a small corridor with a door on each side of the small hallway. She opened the one to the right to reveal a quaint bedroom. It was smaller than the living room with the twin bed and a small desk taking up most space. The bed was decorated with pastel green striped sheets and a varying shade of pastel pink pillows to contrast. The light colored wood desk was filled with papers and books and a collection of pens and pencils mixed together in a Bugs Bunny mug.
Exiting out of the bedroom, Lisette opened the door on the other side to the bathroom. Directly in front of the door was the countertop sink with cabinet space at the bottom. The mirror reflected Lisette's disheveled look. Long brown hair in disarray, her olive tanned skin slightly pale from her exertion of performing the planes-shift spell. She looked down at her clothes. Her shirt was crinkled but her dark jeans didn't seem any worse for wear. She looked back at the tiny restroom, beside the sink was the toilet and beside that was the shower and tub combo with a rolling screen. She could make out the outlines of hair and body products within the shower holder through the mosaic screen.
Lisette slowly backed out of the restroom, closing the door with a soft click. She walked back into the living room and turned right toward the small kitchen. There was limited counter space. The refrigerator was the first one she walked by. She quickly opened it, peeking inside and seeing that it was mostly barren, except for a carton of milk, two eggs, a half stick of butter, a few fruits and vegetables mixed together in one of the bins, a few single cheese slices and a packet of ham next to half a bread loaf. Closing the door to the appliance her eyes roamed over to the four burner gas stove situated next to the fridge, followed by two feet of countertop space and ending with the sink.
The entire set up was simplistic just like everything else in the apartment. Lisette couldn't help but just stand still after taking in the space. Just listening to the sounds of the city outside.
After a few minutes of just being, her eyes went back to roaming the room. This time focusing on the decor littered across the white walls. Scenic shots of different places. Beach fronts, a forest cabin, a panoramic shot of a city that looked like New York and finally one that had her breath caught in her throat.
Her feet quickly carried her closer to the photo. It was two people. Two girls, both in graduation gowns. A beautiful red-head on the left, black rimmed glasses framing her brown, almond shaped eyes. And on the right...
It was Lisette.
She was younger, but there was no mistaking it. It was her.
Lisette turned and headed to the bedroom, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She had no idea what this could mean.
Opening the door, she looked around the room. There had to be some kind of identification to explain who was in that photo. She opened the small closet and found a brown satchel that seemed to be well used. She took it and placed it on the bed. Lisette sat herself next to it and began to rifle through the contents inside.
She took out a notebook, which she opened and flipped through the first few pages, seeing that there was just a bunch of random info and notated dates, nothing too telling. She tossed it aside and continued. A couple of packets of gum, a packet of wet wipes, a small bottle of lotion, a set of keys (probably for the apartment and perhaps a car), loose change wrapped inside singles and a five, a couple of pens, and finally what she was looking for. A wallet.
She cleared away the mess back into the satchel and set it to the floor. She opened the wallet and immediately her eyes flew to the photo ID. It was her, in the photo. Lisette looked at the name.
Lizbeth Iris Nuñez.
It was her, but also not.
Lisette breathed out. Could this mean that she really planes-shifted? The world didn't exactly feel any different though she wasn't really sure what she was expecting planes-shifting to entail.
She looked back down at the ID.
DOB: 03/13/1970
EXP: 03/13/1996
Her brows furrowed at the expiration date. This ID was old. Was this Lizbeth already dead? No, that wasn't right. Everything in the apartment was in good condition. There was no layer of dust that would indicate that the place was neglected. Pocketing the ID, she went over to the desk, looking through the papers scattered around. She noted a stack of bills on the left. Taking one that was already opened, she unfolded the paper.
It was the gas bill.
And it was dated: January 30th, 1994
She quickly made her way to the TV. It was old, something that would be common in the 90's, but maybe this girl, Lizbeth, just didn't have enough money to afford something like a 45" LCD?
She took hold of the remote on the coffee table and clicked the power button.
It was on the local news. And the female newscaster was dressed in what could only be deemed as 90's fashion. Power suit and styled bob cut.
" We have more news regarding that devastating earthquake that rocked the west coast, in Northridge, California just a month ago. Clean up efforts have been slow and rescuers are sadly discovering more bodies that were missed in the initial recovery phase of the disaster. City officials have stated... "
Lisette sat down, her eyes unmoving from the date on the screen.
February 7th, 1994. The time was 1:32 pm.