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Chapter Text

Wendy opened her eyes and sat up. She was surrounded by water and… fire?

“Where am I?” She asked herself.

“Good to see you again, sister.” A voice hissed to Wendy’s left. She looked for the source of the voice and her breathing hitched.

“Elena?”

At the Beauchamp house

Joanna sat on the floor oof her house, holding her sister’s cooling body while tears slid down her face, rocking back and forth. Tommy, the man her sister had given her last life for, had both of his hands on Joanna’s shoulder. His silent tears marring his face.

“Wendy! No, please, please, please…” Johanna whispered, holding on her sister.

Tommy was at a loss for words, what could he say? The woman he loved had died, and all for what? To save him? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. This was real, this wasn’t some kind of sick joke just to scare him.

No, this was real life, he had seen soldiers fall, but nothing like this. Not like this, and not her.

His head hurt with all the swirling emotions radiated from his chest. Wendy was a witch! An idea, a ray of hope popped into his head, “You are witches! Can’t you do magic or something to bring her back?” Towards the end of his sentence, his voice had broken, he wasn’t asking, no. He was pleading.

The oldest witch shook her head, her unruly curls not having the strength to turn with her head.

“There is no spell that can bring back people without consequences.”

Another pang in his chest, “She-she died… for me.” A whisper.

Joanna smiled through her sadness at the thought of her sister’s selfless act of love, “She gave you her life because she loved you. She thought you deserved it more.” The tears were coming in harder, making it more difficult for her to blink through them.

In another part of the house, Ingrid was locked in the bathroom. Her mind reeling and a positive pregnancy test in her hands.

I can’t be pregnant…

Her thoughts were interrupted by an anguished wailing coming from downstairs, her mind went into overdrive as she ran down the stairs, steps creaking with her frantic movements.

When she reached the base of the stairs, her head moved to the sides, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from, maybe it was her Aunt Wendy. She had just lost her boyfriend, the man she loved.

Her body went instinctively to the room where they had killed her grandfather, and the scene in front of her made her freeze in her place. Her brain registered the change – her aunt’s boyfriend was alive! Then why was her mother crying? She inched closer and a chocked sob made its way out as she connected the dots.

“Wendy!” Ingrid gasped as she ran to her aunt’s body, cradled in her mother’s arms.

“What happened?!” She asked, her voice hitching; her red-rimmed eyes looking around, searching for clues. But deep down, she knew what had happened.

The EMT didn’t answer, his voice trapped inside his own mouth, chocking his neck, and his body remained unmoving, kneeling. It was only after a few tries that the eldest witch present managed to answer her own daughter’s question: Her aunt had given her life so the man she loved could live.

Fat tears cascaded down the oldest witch’s face, collecting at her chin and falling onto the tunic her sister had been wearing. Mourning the end of her best friend, her family, her sister. The one person who had remained at her side throughout the years, the same person who had comforted her time after time her daughters died at destiny’s hand. The same person she had sent away…

Underworld

Wendy tried standing up, and soon realized her body was too weak to do so.

She tried to make her muddled brain catch up to the situation, but the fear that clung to the forefront of her mind took precedence over everything happening at the moment.

Every time she lost one of her lives, she experienced a fraction of what witches felt upon death – she had stood as far as the edge of the river before, but never this far.

A snippet of a burning sensation, life fire licking at her veins, a flash of the river she would one day cross; but just as every time before, she returned to life with a cooling sensation spreading through her body, maybe it was the coolness of death, just starting to settle in. Cold and stiff, the ache that had always settled in her muscles and joints when she took her first reviving breath.

This time there was no stiffness, no cool sensation, nothing.

From the other side of the vast expense, Elena observed her youngest sister, she had matured a lot since she had last seen her, but she couldn’t help but focus on the differences: her hair had been kept shorter than it had been in Asgard, her blue eyes were not filled with joy and mischievousness but they had hardened with the passage of years and the burden of pain, loss and grief.

Wendy looked at her sister, her gaze focusing on the face she had not seen for centuries. Suddenly, Elena smiled, a smirk that made Wendy’s finer hairs stand on edge, “Well, it looks like the cat finally lost her lives, and for a mortal man, nonetheless,” Her voice hissed with added cruelty, “What a waste!”

Wendy decided to try her luck once again and willed her body to stand up. The muscles in her legs stretching and protesting with each miniscule fiber movement made to complete such a normally mundane task.

Slightly shaky, the blue-eyed witch bared her teeth like a true feline and glared at the woman across from her, ”Leave him out of this, Elena.”

The other woman laughed once, and resumed her taunting-

“Your body is weak, dear sister,” And that manned in which that last word was said hit Wendy with a reminder of being burned at the stake.

“Well, this is Hell. I wasn´t expecting anything short of flames and blinding pain and blah, blah, blah.” Replied Wendy, feigning aloofness towards her situation.

Elena hummed, “You are at my mercy, yet still making jokes? Admirable. But you won’t be for much longer.”

“What happened to you, El?” Wendy eye’s softened slightly, understanding that the woman in front of her was not the same person she had known in childhood. Had all these years apart turned her sister into this cruel person? Why had she ended up here?

The older witch’s face took a darker turn, her lip curling in anger, her eyes narrowing, “What do you think having your father and sisters imprison you here would do to a person?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Wendy, her eyebrows drawn up in confusion.

What did she mean? Imprison?  What did she mean by that? She had died!

“How convenient that you don’t remember,” Elena sneered.

“Cut the crap.” Wendy snapped at her older sister. “There’s something I need to know, is… everyone alright up there?” She asked, her voice coming out as a chocked whispered towards the end.

Elena sighed, bored, “If we are to spend eternity together in this burning place, I might as well tell you. Would not enjoy you pestering for the rest of our deaths. Everybody is alive, if you must know.”

Wendy’s sigh of relief wasn’t heard as much as it was seen from the way her body sagged.

“Everyone, that is, but our dear nephew Frederick. He is not enjoying his new dwellings,” she said coldly. Her brown eyes emotionless except for a small glint of excitement shining through. Even though her long tresses fell over her face, partially covering it, Wendy could see enough. The expression of a predator. The one their father had once told Wendy she shared with soulless murderers.

There was one big difference, Wendy was a feline, it was an instinct to take part in the cat and mouse game. But Elena was no car, Elena used it as a weapon – to show her prey she was a great threat and should not be taken slightly. The realization made an uncomfortable tingle appear at Wendy’s back.

“What do you mean Frederick’s dead? I don’t believe you!” She yelled, her back straightening, muscles tightening painfully, uncomfortably.

“Believe what you shall, dear sister,” Came Elena’s disinterested reply. ”Our talk has been rather unpleasant, so it is time to go to the real Underworld.”

Wendy’s eyes widened as the surrounding fire started creeping alarmingly closer, licking at her soft her, marring it with blackness. The witch’s mouth opened in a silent scream, until it erupted in shrilling screams. Her vision wavered and darkness danced around the edges. Before giving into the unforgiving unconsciousness that loomed over her, she faintly made out Elena’s voice.

“Welcome to your real nightmare, sister!”

Beauchamp house

“Ingrid, listen to me, call your sister and tell her to come home, I’m not giving up on Wendy, I’ll find a way to bring her back,” Joanna said, her voice unwavering.

She refused to give up on her sister, Wendy had saved her life in more than one occasion, even watched over her after Joanna had told her to go and never come back. After everything, Wendy had always been there.

Now she wasn’t. Not anymore. She would not fail her sister as she had done before. She would do right by her in a way she could never do for Ele – no, she had to focus on Wendy.

Joanna heard Ingrid’s feet shuffle and assumed that her eldest daughter had gone to grab a phone to call Freya. Her gaze now was directed at Tommy, whose eyes were full of sorrow, tears and guilt.

“Can you carry her to the sofa?” She asked him quietly, but firmly.

The man simply nodded and pried Wendy’s body from her sister’s arms. His heart broke when his skin touched his and received nothing but coldness in return, confirming the truth of this nightmare he was living. This was his reality, and Wendy really was dead. He remembered how she always felt warm to his touch, and after finding out that she was witch, he had asked her about it. His mouth curled slightly upwards at the memory of Wendy mentioning that her inner ‘kitty’ was what kept her warm, the feline that was a part of her, a part of her that she cherished.

His wandering mind snapped back to the present when his feet hit the edge of the couch he had originally intended to move towards. With the outmost care, he cradled her body more securely and delicately laid her down. He retrieved his arms from under her lithe figure and it shocked him when her weight disappeared from his arms, she was so light. Weightless almost, devoid of life. Her presence and attitude made her seem much bigger than she really was.

Even then, Wendy looked beautiful and with his right hand, he reached down and tenderly moved a lock of silky raven hair behind her ear, reliving her pale face of being obscured. Even then, she looked beautiful.

From afar, he heard Joanna talking briefly, probably directed at no one, or maybe at him, he couldn’t be sure. His eyes stuck to the small figure on the couch.

Killian and Freya

“Where do you want to go?” Asked Killian.

Freya just looked at him and smiled, “I don’t care, as long as we’re together,” she said and leaned in for a kiss.

Killian kissed her lovingly, but something wasn’t right, Probably because we just left from visiting Dash. He must be feeling bad for him.

Suddenly, her phone rang, she almost cursed the damned little thing as she reached into her pocket. As soon as she fished it out, the call was connected and immediately the voice at the other end of the line started talking.

“Freya, you need to come home right now!” Came Ingrid’s frantic voice.

“Ingrid? What’s going on?”, she asked. When she left, everything had been as alright as it could have been, if you count her Aunt’s dead boyfriend in their living room.

Ingrid was crying, “Freya, it’s aunt Wendy…”

“What happened?”

“She’s- She’s dead…” Her voice breaking.

Freya’s eyes widened, she hung up on Ingrid and looked at Killian desperately, “Killian, we need to go to my house! Now!”, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

Beauchamp house

Joanna returned to her sister’s side with a big, old book with hundreds of discolored and yellow-rimmed pages that hinted at just about how old the thing was.

“What is that?” Tommy asked.

Joanna didn’t look up from the book’s pages as she replied, “This is the family’s book of spells.”

Ingrid came running back into the room, “I called Freya, she hung up but she’s coming.”

Sadness colored her face as she looked at her aunt’s prone form on the sofa. Her aunt had been the one person she talked to, the person who helped her when she messed up. The same woman she had rejected the first day of being back. Tears spilling from her normally serious face faster and faster.

“Mom, can we do anything? Can we- Can we bring her back?” asked Ingrid, her voice wavering.

Joanna just looked at her eldest daughter, after being reborn almost a dozen times, in each life, Ingrid was always smitten by her aunt.

They had always had a special bond that no one could break, and this life was no different. It’s not like Wendy didn’t love Freya or that Ingrid didn’t love her mother, they did. But the relationship they had with one another was special, they were somehow connected. A connection that never failed to appear. Remembering those years in which her sister had not been around, Joanna realized now how hollow her daughter had been.

Could it be possible that somehow, without ever having met Wendy, that Ingrid felt her absence?

“I’ll find a way, Ingrid. I know I can…”

I hope I can.

Chapter Text

Beauchamp house

Joanna flipped rapidly through the pages of the Grimoire, it frustrated her to no end that she hadn’t found anything remotely useful. Then again, she had lived for centuries, had created this book along with her sister, she knew exactly what was written in each of the pages.

After she flipped towards the last page, she closed the book with what sounded almost like a growl. It should have not surprised her, since she hadn’t been parted from the book for centuries, maybe she was hoping that if she checked it one more time, something new might have been magically added to the tome. Sometime remotely useful.

“Mom! Did you find anything?” Asked Ingrid as she came back into the room.

Joanna shook her head defeatedly, she got closer to her sister and stroked her hair, the same way her sister had when her daughter had died yet again. She had always been slightly envious of her sister. Wendy had the perfect blue eyes, the jet-black silky hair, and she was resourceful, crafty and strong. Perhaps not as skilled as Joanna, but she was powerful in every way.

Suddenly, and idea turned itself into Joanna’s mind – she stood up as quickly as she could and sprinted into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Her eldest daughter asked.

“I know a way to contact someone that is, hopefully, with Wendy.” The matriarch said cryptically.

“What? Who?”

Joanna looked up trained her sight on a knife lying on top of the kitchen countertop, she eyed her daughter and the knife again, “Our sister, Elena”.

She grabbed the knife and walked just as fast back into the living room, Ingrid on her mother’s heels.

“What do you mean? I have another aunt?”

Joanna sighed, “You have another aunt, yes. Her name is Elena, father banished her because of her rebellion. Wendy never knew. We told her that Elena had died while practicing magic with our father.” Explained the eldest Beauchamp, remorse showing its ugly head in the deep brown pools surrounded by the harsh lines of years’ weight.

Tommy looked at Joanna who had a knife in her hand still, “What are you planning to do with that? How is a kitchen knife going to help us?” He asked, subconsciously holding more tightly to Wendy’s cold hand. Eager to know how they could bring her back. To him, it didn’t really matter if they ended up together or not, as long as she was alive.

Joanna looked at him grimly and said, “I might be able to contact Elena and-”

She was cut off by the front door of their old house slamming open and the hurried steps of her youngest daughter, “Where is she?” Freya asked desperately.

Her eyes landed on the corpse, with her eyes closed and lying unmoving on the large sofa in the middle of the room.

“No! But… she was okay! She was fine!” The young woman cried, tears immediately cascaded down her eyes, falling like waterfalls. Ingrid moved to hug her, extending her arms to her little sister who sagged into the and continued crying, expressing her grief.

Joanna chose not to focus on her daughters, but on the task at hand, Alright, I need to draw a pentagram, Elena, please let me talk to her…

With her mind in a frenzy chain of pleads to whomever was listening that Wendy was alright and that she could return. What was Joanna without her younger sister? Life without her was simply unacceptable at this point.

Joanna’s mind was set. She quickly cut one of her wrists with a low hiss and used her other hand to dip her fingers into the crimson liquid, soon enough, she started drawing a pentagram on the floor. No one dared question what she was doing, this was their only hope.

Once she finished the circled pentagram, she whispered “Sana, sana, sana…” so that her mangled wrist could heal, and the skin that had been broken could begin to mend. Tissue reforming and leaving unmarred skin.

Immediately she started chanting in Latin again “Visionem aperuit terra mortuum, visionem aperuit terra mortuun, visions aperuir terra mortuum.”

The inside of the pentagram started swirling on the floor, and Joanna looked at it intently from her crouched position, the image of a woman that looked similar to Joanna herself appeared.

“Elena!” Exclaimed Joanna.

“Oh, dear Joanna, it’s been such a long time.” Came Elena’s mockingly sweet voice.

But as much as Joanna was shocked at her sister’s appearance, she had to focus, You’re doing this for Wendy.

“Elena, let me talk to Wendy! Let me see her!” said Joanna in a loud voice, her heart thundering in her chest.

But the other woman simply laughed, “I see what you want. But I am afraid our dear sister Wendy is with me now. She has to pay for what you all did to me!” Elena’s voice turned into a growl.

“She doesn’t know what happened! She thought you were dead! She mourned you! Father and I made her believe that! Please, let her go!” Joanna was pleading, begging. She just wanted her sister back, safe in their home with their family.

The sincerity and brokenness in Joanna’s expression made Elena falter, her cruel smile falling slightly, a frown beginning to settle.

“Did she truly not know?”

“She didn’t know, she thought you were really dead.” Whispered Joanna, her tears falling onto the pentagram showing her older sister’s face, almost as if Elena was crying too.

“I did horrible things to our sister. I blamed her for my current predicament, when she had nothing to do with it?”

The silence in the room was thick.

“What did you do to her?!” Tommy roared; his voice full of anger towards this new person who had hurt his Wendy.

“I did what I am supposed to do to every incoming soul, with a personal touch, of course.”

Joanna reached breaking point, she could not believe what she was hearing, “HOW COULD YOU?” Her voice boomed.

Ingrid, Freya and Killian took a step back, never had they seen the normally composed Joanna scream like that.

“She is our sister! How could you do that?! She is your younger sister too!” Joanna kept screaming, her voice raw and despairingly angry. A vein started pulsing from the side of her neck running up to her forehead, that single raised bulge showed how hard her heart was beating, how fast it was racing solely from imagining the horrors her sister, her younger sister, had already endured at the hands of yet another family member.

“Curse you, Joanna! I curse you and our father! I committed atrocities against my sister because of something she had nothing to do with…” Silence. Nothing more than wretched silence filled the entire room, and after another pregnant pause, Elena spoke again.

“There is only one way that I know of, if she is strong and willed enough,” she said.

And it was at that moment that hope and color returned to the people in the living room. Like that one sentence was everything they needed. The one sentence that gave everyone the hope that everything would be fine. Wendy would return. They would save their family.

“What do we have to do?” Tommy asked.

Elena looked at the EMT with mild disgust, “As I assume you don’t know, when I was banished-” she hissed the words and looked at Joanna with blatant distaste and hate, “-here, I was assigned the post of guardian. My task is to torture the souls for the Master of the realm to bathe in their glory of their agony. She has to find the Master and challenge him to a duel to escape.”

Jonna visibly swallowed, already knowing what was to come. The rest of the living occupants of the room stayed silent until Freya spoke up, asking the question none of them wanted to voice.

“Who is the Master?”

Elena trained her sight on the black-haired young woman with distaste, “Do you not read? Has Joanna not told you anything about the Underworld?” She asked, looking at Joanna with a raise eyebrow, dark eyes laser-focused.

“She means the person who here in Midgard is known as the Devil, I would say,” Joanna clarified for her daughter, different sounds of understanding resonated, followed by gasps and audible gulps.

“Give her the best fighting chance she may have, Elena.”

“I will actually take care of her, unlike you did, might I add. I do not think she will forgive me for what I have done to her.”

“If you knew remotely anything about Wendy perhaps you would know that she is more forgiving than she lets on,” Tommy added finally speaking up.

Elena nodded grimly, her head bobbing slightly.

“I have one more thing to say before I depart,” Elena says, looking at Joanna, “Your sons resides here.”

Gasps filled the room from the three women.

“He- He’s dead?” Stuttered Freya. Her twin, dead. Someone as powerful as her twin, dead? How had she not felt that?

Joanna, having a clear head asked, “Can he do the same as Wendy?”

Elena shook her head, “He can not.”

“Why? I understand that you are still mad and resent-”, But Joanna was cut off by Elena silently raising her hand, it made her feel like a child again, fighting with her eldest sister.

“There is one thing you should know about our sister. She holds a greater power than yours, mine, and Father’s. I am positive she has the ability to return him to the land of the living, the same way Father has done so many times before her.”

“What? How?” Ingrid asked, speaking up for the first time. She didn’t like not having all the information.

“When she turned three years of age, our father sealed a grand part of her power, for he feared she would eventually surpass him due to her enormous potential. And being the detestable being he is, he did not want anybody to be greater than him, not even his daughter. He took that power for himself,” explained Elena. Her voice turning cold at the memory of those times.

“Do you remember that evening he took Wendy out for a ‘special lesson’?” Elena asked her sister.

Joanna’s head bobbed up and down as she nodded, “I remember that she was asleep when they arrived.”

Elem made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, but kept on: “Do you remember how she did nor open her eyes for almost three moons?”

“I remember…”

“That was the day he stripped her of her powers. Her body, so young and small, felt a grad void of magic and shut itself down,” she continued, her voice taking a more heated town as she remembered the atrocities her father had committed against all of them, and the day he had her banished.

A blood-curling scream reverberated through the portal, creating an echo that would haunt some of them. It was the guttural scream of a woman. Elena looked behind her and immediately snapped back to Joanna, “I have to go for now. Be assured I will aid her in what I can.”

“Wait!” Joanna yelled before Elena fully turned around, she continued, “Perhaps, once this is over and done with, you would like to come here, with us. You could get out of there an-” but she was cut off.

“And what? Be a family? Act like you didn’t banish me here to every witch’s nightmare? We can never be a family again, Joanna.” And with a swooshing sound, the portal closed and the image of Elena ceased to exist.

No one dared say anything.

Joanna walked to her sister’s body and stroked her raven hair, “I know you can do it, Wendy. I know you can.” A teary smile made its way to her face

Chapter Text

Pain was the first thing her brain registered. She tried moving her wrists and found they were bound. Next were her feet, and she soon realized they were also bound. Her entire body hurt.

And then she remembered, Elena, her sister, had done this to her. Had enjoyed it even.

When Wendy was young, she had acquired the knowledge of what was done to witches in the Underworld; but as people said, one thing was to know, another thing was to experience.

She groaned as her muscles stretched with the little movements she was attempting, and her marred skin being pulled by her bindings made her hiss.

I can’t believe she’s alive… Jo told me she was dead. Maybe she really is dead and got sent down here? But she is a guarding, only people who are alive get that charge. What is going on here? Couldn’t death have been easier?

“I have to get out…”

She concentrated hard on her magic and muttered something in Latin. She lifted her head and her gaze fixated itself in the ropes that were keeping her contained. Wendy took a deep breath and concentrated harder on the rope of her right hand, “Ignis!”

The rope starter burning, a few barely-there wisps of smoke could be seen in the fiery pit she was in. She smiled at her success, and eventually, her right hand was freed. She repeated the process again, feeling more drained each time she succeeded, but not letting that deter her.

Wendy started walked in one direction, she had no way of knowing which direction was the right one, If there is a right one…

As she kept walking, she saw her eldest sister, Elena, just a few feet away from her. She felt anger, and to think of this woman as her sister made her stomach twist and turn uncomfortably. The older woman seemed to be talking to someone through a mirror portal, and Wendy’s ears perked up at the sound of a familiar voice.

Joanna!

Wendy could not help but scream with rage at the thought of this monster hurting her real family, her sister, her nieces, Tommy…

Elena turned her head just a tiny bit and threw a glance at her. She closed the portal with a wave of her hand and looked directly at Wendy. The youngest of the two raised her hands in some kind of defense reflex and Elena was sure Wendy had a spell at the tip of her tongue, ready to be cast and thrown directly her was with vicious malice.

Elena raised both hands in surrender and started speaking in a rather calm and soft voice, “Sister, before you do anything, you must listen to me-”

“Why should I listen to you?”

And the reply she received in turn made her blood boil, “Because I am your eldest sister.”

Wendy glared at her, her eyes darker than they have ever been before, danger glooming in large pools of greyish-blue, “What kind of sister tortures another one?!”

“You were told I had perished, were you not? Died in training with Father.”

Wendy nodded, skeptical. She knew that she couldn’t trust this woman, but she had a hard time looking directly into those eyes that looked so much like Joanna’s, those eyes that were the creators of many good and joyous times in her childhood spent with her older sisters.

Elena took her silence as a sign to continue with her explanation, “That was not accurate at all. Father banished me here because I was against him blocking your powers from your usage.”

Wendy’s eyes widened, What the hell?, “What do you mean by ‘blocking’ my powers? I could use them just fine.”

Elena sighed, knowing that it was now up to her explain all the treachery they had grown up with. She thought that at least, she would have some time to prepare what she was going to say, but that was not the case.

“Sister, you are one of the most powerful witches to have ever been born. You hold greater power that our father. When the King of our land discovered this, he wanted to make sure that you did not manage to surpass him by coming into your full potential. When you turned three, he tried taking a part of your magic, I was against it, even tried to take it from him, you did not deserve to live that kind of life. And because of my rebellion, I was banished here. To endure a life of death and suffering.”

Wendy’s arms hung limply at her sides, her eyes wide and no longer deadly, but rather broken, betrayed, and sad, “You said he tried taking my magic, or at least part of it. Did he do it?” She asked with determination.

Elena shook her head, “He could not take what did not belong to him. Magic that pure has no place with someone like Father. Instead, he found a way to trap them.”

“Can I ever get that part of my magic unblocked?” She asked, her eyes wide, her hands knotted together at the base of her abdomen, wringing her fingers in a display of anxiety.

Elena’s lips quirked upwards a small fraction, “You might have noticed your magic is slightly difficult to use at the moment. This is because you have, efficiently, died. You are not in the body the magic was blocked in. You have every bit of your magic at your disposal, you simply have to know how to call to it.”

Wendy’s eyebrows came together and downwards in a frown, “If I have all this magic, why is it so difficult to use?”

“Besides the trauma of having died and the subsequent… events, this form of yours needs to get reacquainted with magic.”

The youngest witch nodded, wrapping her head around this enormous pile of information that was dumped onto her, but then her expression fell, “Is there any way to go back? To Joanna and the girls, to Tommy…”, she asked in a low voice.

She had accepted her fate when she made the decision to save the EMT, but this, this changed everything. If she had a chance to return to her home, she would take. And she would make sure to do her damned best.

“Given your circumstances, you can return to Midgard with your sister, nieces and the… human.”

“Why do I get the feelin’ it’s not gonna be simple?” Wendy’s body sagged in exhaustion just by imagining what she would have to accomplish, but the idea of being reunited with her family fueled her.

Elena nodded, “You would be correct. To return to the land of the living, you must find the Master of the ream and defeat him in a duel. You well know He cannot be killed. Secondly, you are to consume a single drop of his blood.”

The black-haired woman nodded slowly, “Okay, so how do I find Him in here?”

“I will get to that in a moment. But there is something you may like to know.  The boy, Frederick, is here.”

Wendy gasped, hair standing on edge and energy thrumming wildly around her. Elena did not delay the relay of information, so she continued before her younger sister could interrupt.

“-You can save him. When you return to Midgard, you must unleash your power to bring him back to the land of the living. I have faith that with your recovered abilities, you can revive him.”

Wendy seemed to be contemplating something, so it took her a moment to open her mount, “And what about… what about you?”, she asked.

“There is nothing that can be done for me.”

Chapter Text

“So, Aunt Wendy is back?” asked Freya while wiping her tears with the sleeve of her shirt.

She had been close with her aunt ever since she had appeared in their lives. Instantly feeling a connection between them. When Ingrid called her, telling her that Wendy had died, she had felt numb, empty. The pain came right after, hitting her like a train. The pain of acknowledging that Ingrid wasn’t lying and that her aunt was really dead, because there was simply no way her sister would ever joke about something as serious as that.

Killian was rubbing her back, apparently seeking to comfort her.

Joanna was the one who answered Freya’s question with a million-watt smile plastered on her face, softening at her daughter’s pain: “She’ll come back!”

“Can she beat it? Does she have that much power?” Asked Kilian, his face somber.

If she does, I might have to steal it.

“From what Elena told me, she does- oh!” Exclaimed Joanna!

“What happened?” Asked Tommy, who was kneeling in front of Wendy, trying to will some warmth into her cold hands.

“I remember there was a prophecy. It said that there were three sisters born, the youngest of them with the eyes of a storm. Her powers would soar as her heart was destroyed. It was said she had been blessed by higher powers and she was often described as… a feline.” Joanna shared the story and almost facepalmed, how could she not have realized this sooner? It made so much sense now! Her mother had always said that they would understand the story when they were older.

This time, Ingrid’s voice chipped in, “What about our brother?”

Joanna sighed, “Well, we know he’s dead. We don’t know how he died of where his body is. Elena did say that when Wendy comes back, she’ll be back at full power. If Wendy is really more powerful than him, then we can be sure she will bring your brother back to us.”

Tommy sighed, all this talk about magic and bringing people back from the dead was hurting his head, both uncomfortable and amazed that there was such power in the world that could give back life just as easy as it could take it, “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

His voice was a whisper. His concern for the woman before him palpable.

I never got the chance to tell her…

“I know she will be back. She would do anything for family so she’ll come back.” Killian added, his tone not exactly matching his sentence, but no one had seemed to pay attention.

Ingrid suppressed a yawn, but it was noticed by her mother, “I want to stay with Aunt Wendy. What if she comes back and we’re not here?” she asked, uncertain and uncomfortable at the idea of leaving.

Joanna could not help but smile at her daughter’s devotion to her aunt, and her smile deepened when Freya chirped in saying she was staying as well. The family agreeing to stay together in this moment of need, willing to play the deadly waiting game.

Her gaze shifted to the person who had not looked at her during the interaction, “What about you, Tommy?”

“Do you mind if I use your phone? I’m calling in sick for tomorrow. Is it okay if I- If I stay?”

The eldest witch smiled, her curly hair exaggerating the movement. How could she say no? Her sister had given her life to save him, that basically made him family. She understood from the look in his eyes that he would not be deterred, and he deserved to be there just as any of them. She would not separate them. Joanna nodded towards the kitchen, where the phone was, silently letting him know that he was more than welcome to stay.

The man stood up and walked with heavy steps towards the kitchen, his back hunched and his shoulder sagged.

The empty space beside her sister’s body was strange, the EMT had refused to leave her side since depositing her there. Joanna took his place while he made a phone call. Her sister looked so stark, her face clear and pale. She had always been funny and the most outgoing of the two, the pretty one. She was so angry with their Father, – he had said Wendy would never be a good mother, he had said that she would never sacrifice anything for her loved ones–, but that was not true, and it was testament to how little their Father really knew them. Wendy would sacrifice everything again and again in order to keep her loved ones safe. She had traded immortal life for death in order to save a human.

If anything happened to Joanna herself, she knew that her children would be safe under Wendy’s care.

I know you’ll come back. But I miss you, and I’m sorry…

Joanna sniffed wetly, her tears dampening her sister’s hair. Quickly, she wiped her face and nose, not wanting her daughter to see her cry.

Suddenly, she felt two pairs of arms encircle her body. Ingrid and Freya, crying into her shoulder.

“Mom, don’t cry,” Ingrid cooed against her shoulder, marking comforting noises that she hoped would soother her mother’s pain, however slightly.

“Ingrid’s right, Mom. We know that she’ll come back – like she always does.”

Joanna nodded, hugger her daughter back. This time she needed to be held, “I know, it breaks my heart to know that she’s not even in the same plane as we are. I always had her to comfort me and set me right, every time. It’s terrible to know that at this moment, I don’t have that. But I’m not going to cry anymore, I have to prepare myself for her return.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Tommy, having returned from making the call in the kitchen.

Joanna’s head turned to him, moving her daughters with her.

“Returning from the land of the living without external assistance is not something that happens. When my daughters were revived, they returned unharmed, because the magic Father had used to bring them back had healed them along the way.”

“But Aunt Wendy doesn’t have that, we-” Freya paused to point at the people in the room, ”are not bringing her back. She is doing this alone.”

The matriarch nodded, “And because there is no external magic easing the journey back for her, I have to assume that whatever happens to her down there will be transferred to her body here. I can’t heal her until she fully returns because her soul is not inside this body either.”

“And she will probably be injured after a fight with the, uh, Devil” Tommy added, holding onto his head. His eyes closed for a moment at the thought of his lover having to fight something he had never believed in in order to survive.

I love you, Wendy. Please come back.

Chapter Text

Underworld

Wendy looked at her eldest sister, determination clear in her bright eyes, “Can you take me to Him?”

Elena sighed, “I can lead you, but not accompany you, sister. I belong to the Master of this realm.”

The youngest one nodded slowly, her mind going through the facts she had archived in her head a long time ago –– remembering every piece of information about the Underworld she could, searching for anything that might give her an advantage over what waited ahead.

One thought kept nagging at her, If her sister wasn’t really dead, then she could go back. Wendy could take her back with her. She silently vowed to do right by her sister. To give a chance at a life that had ben taken from her.

“I’m ready.” She finally said, her mind resolved on the list of things she had to do.

First, find the Master. Easy peasy of Elena can lead.

Second, defeat him. Not as easy, ey.

Third, save Frederick and Elena. Assuming I can go past step 2.

Elena understood at that moment what the human had said about her sister. The woman before her was resilient and headstrong. And most importantly, so pure. By the look in her sister’s eyes, she was planning to save her as well, even after all she had done.

Her throat knotted at that thought, and deep in her heart something stung, but she could not do more at the moment than wish her sister farewell and good luck. In the blink of an eye, Elena said something under her breath and Wendy disappeared.

Elena released a breath and partially collapsed. Her heart heavy.

In the Pit

Her legs faltered at the feeling of the floor disappearing from under her feet, making her stumble. Wendy looked around wildly, not knowing where she was. She gagged and tried to cough, the wicked smell of Sulphur burned when she took a breath, making her sputter. Her eyes must have been blindfolded or something, because she could only see in shades of brown and red.

Wendy’s nose flared; her eyes widened. Something was not right here. When goosebumps appeared on her skin at her finer hairs stood on edge, she knew that there was something lurking.

She did not have to wander for much longer, as a figure blinked into existence before her very eyes. Her breath caught in her throat as she softly gasped. The apparition before her someone she thought she would never have to face again. The ––former–– King of Asgard. Her father.

“What the hell?” She asked as a reflex.

The figure chuckled in a sinister manner before adding, “Hell indeed, Wendy.”

Wendy did not entirely understand the situation. Because of his action, her father would have to be receiving his punishment, why was he not burning somewhere else? When the man’s expression widened further, Wendy understood that what stood before her was not her father. The glint in its eyes made her shiver involuntarily.

“Who are you?” She asked.

It laughed, sending chills down her spine even though the temperature in the pit was suffocating.

“I am whomever I want to be. Whomever you would like me to be.”

The witch was ready with a retort, but stopped short when the figure before her changed abruptly, her skin thundering.

“Hey Aunt Wendy! Are you here to kill me again?” Came Ingrid’s voice. Her form inching closer to the witch.

Wendy found herself unmoving for a moment, seeing her niece here brought back some unwanted memories. The sadistic smile though, did not belong to her niece. That was all it took to snap her back to the reality of the situation.

This was not her niece.

A sinister snicker was all the warning she had before the creature launched itself at her, clawing at her waist with decidedly sharp nails that tore through the flesh on her side.

Wendy hissed, immediately lunging backwards to get away. She had to think, and quickly. Her eyes shining with tears as she looked at Ingrid’s hand, covered in her blood.

How dare this thing take the form of something so good and pure?

Beauchamp house

Tommy had excused himself to go to the restroom, Joanna sat on the big sofa with her sister’s head on her lap, stroking the raven tresses. Her gaze blanked to the side, focusing on her daughter just to see Ingrid flipping through the pages of the Grimoire.

Her eyes moved off to the side again, wandering to the figure beside her. Freya, sitting on the arm of the couch, blue eyes locked on her aunt’s face, unseeing of anything else happening around her since Killian had left to get food.

Freya drowned, her eyebrows knitting together across her face as she looked at a spreading wetness forming on her aunt’s black robe, “What’s that?” she asked.

Joanna diverted her gaze in order to look at what her daughter was pointing up, her eyebrows creased in confusion, until the liquid began seeping through the fabric of her clothes and into the sofa’s cloth, staining it a dark crimson color. There was a second of complete silence until Joanna started cursing and cinched open her sister’s robe to see a gnarled gash on the side of her waist, blood pouring heavily out of it.

“Freya, get me a cloth!” She exclaimed while positioning her hands atop the offending injury to stop more blood from coming out of her sister’s body like a busted water pipe. It was not but a moment later that her youngest daughter burst into the room, a cloth clutched in her grip.

Freya quickly handed the cloth to her mother who was desperately whispering an incantation to heal the person before her, “It’s not working!” she cried desperately.

“Tommy!” Ingrid yelled, her voice loud enough for the EMT to come running, his eyes immediately drifting to where his lover lay motionless. It was as if his heart was breaking as he realized what was happening. Wendy was bleeding –– quite severely, too.

He swallowed back his fear as much as he could and let his training kick in.

“I am certain her fight started, I can’t stop the bleeding,” Joanna said, her hands working fervently to staunch the blood.

The man moved Joanna’s hands away so he could inspect the wound, it was bad enough that it would not stop with simple bandaging, he would have to stitch the gash closed.

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” He asked.

Joanna nodded, and when she turned to ask one of her daughters to retrieve it, she saw the ends of Ingrid’s hair disappearing into the other room, going to get what they needed without being asked to.

The young witch ran back into the room with the white medical box in her hands, which she quickly handed to Tommy. Without wasting a breath, he opened the kit, he got a set of gloves and put them on quickly. He knew he would have to sterilize the needle as best he could since it hadn’t come in a closed package, so he poured alcohol over the needle.

Joanna watched intently as the alcohol slid over the surface and fell in a trickle onto the hardwood floor, leaving a dark stain that would surely evaporate in a matter of minutes.

With one hand Tommy held the needle, while with the other he fished his pocket for a lighter. Lighting the flame up, he didn’t think twice about it before he put the small instrument over the fire in order to cleanse it as best as he could. He threw a glance at Joanna and said: “That laceration is too deep, she needs stitches.”

The mother of three only nodded, trusting this man to help her sister survive.

“I need you to go around cleaning the blood out while I’m sewing, alright?” He asked, his eyes focused on hers, trying to convey the importance of what they were going to do.

“Alright…” Joanna said, as she grabbed another cloth Freya had set aside. With trembling legs, she shuffled in order to be right next to Tommy as he prepared for the task at hand.

She watched with mild horror as Tommy used his left to pinch the skin on Wendy’s small waist and started pushing the needle in, trying to work quickly and instructing Joanna to work around him.

Freya’s eyes went frantically from her mother’s face to Tommy’s, knowing what to do. Ingrid, on the other hand, focused solely on her aunt’s face –– searching for an indication of something. Anything that would tell her what was going on.

Nothing.

A few minutes of drowning silence, and Tommy had finished the last knot of the stitch. Freya was quick to hand him a roll of bandages from the discarded first-aid kit. He thanked her quietly and started to gently press them down over the laceration, making sure to clean it as best as he could. The man removed his gloves and dropped them on the floor, along with the soiled bandages, “This better be the last thing this asshole does,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Underworld

He’s too fast, she thought, I can’t give up.

The thing tainting her niece’s form laughed coldly, “Who are you kidding, Wendy? Aren’t you going to attack me? Oh, but of you hurt me mommy dearest will send you away again, isn’t she? And you’ll be nothing more than a stray cat.”

Wendy smirked and said, “Not this time. I know Jo won’t mind if I killed you this time.”

It smiled wretchedly, suddenly, its back arched as if it were in pain, and then, it wasn’t Ingrid staring back at her anymore.

Her chest constricted as if trying to contain the organ beating in her chest, gripping tightly to avoid it from jumping out. A choked whisper managed to leave her constricted throat, “Mother…”

Chapter Text

Wendy stopped breathing for a moment, her stormy eyes focused on the figure across from her as she recognized it from vivid memories of a different lifetime. A lifetime where she was young, carefree, where her family wasn’t yet ruptured nor tainted by evil.

Wendy had wished for many years to be able to see her mother one more time. And never in a million years would she have imagined this happening. A face so similar to hers, with sapphire eyes, and brown hair that was share by her sisters. Her mother, her beautiful mother.

Her instinct was telling her to attack, to act, do something! Yet she could not bring herself to move forward.

A distinct memory coming forth, assaulting her before she could stop herself.

A young version of herself, around 5-years-old, sat on a big canopy bed that had golden posts; her little legs dangling from the side. The color of the sheets a deep burgundy and multiple pillows sat atop it with a big comforter a shade lighter than the sheets thrown off to the side of the bed.

The little girl sat fiddling with her hands, her head cast down. A tall woman with brown curls and the most beautiful set of stormy eyes that shone in the dim light of the room. The woman sat down next to her daughter and put her slim hand under the child’s chin to make her look up.

“What is troubling you, my child?”

The little girl looked into her mother’s eyes, “I will never b-be as good as Joanna or Elena, Mother.” Her innocent eyes wet with fat tears.

The woman smiled gently, “You, Wendy, youngest daughter of the kings of Asgard, are destined for great things. You shall have your own future apart from your sisters and from this,” she said, slowly gesturing to the room around them.

The five-year-old’s eyebrows drew together in a confused frown, and her eyes narrowed with uncertainty, “What does that mean?”

“That means, ” the older woman started, her long arms wrapping around the little girl’s body, “That one day, you will surpass us all. One day, you will do great things. You will see when the time comes.”

Young Wendy sniffed and burrowed into her mother’s warmth.

“You are not her,” Wendy growled. The rawness in her voice betraying how much more this had affected her.

The figure before her stained all the perfect memories she had from before everything worsened. From a time before their lives were thrown down the drain and the harsh reality of what was happening in their homeland started to make itself known.

The creature smirked, knowing of her inner conflict, “You were the child I never wanted, Wendy.”

And that did it. That was the last push the witch needed to act, to push herself in order to be back with her remaining family. And she would fight with everything she had in order to go back to those she loved.

“Tolle quod tuum set forma, non possis,” she chanted.

She knew that what happened would always haunt her dreams; the figure of her mother warped, the skin stretching and dissolving, showing that underneath such beloved form, was a buzzing black mist, dripping out like sand inside a sack.

This mist flew straight at her face, and as a reflex, Wendy covered herself with her arms, but she was not fast enough. The same mist that had dropped from the inside of her mother’s body flew up suddenly, causing her to inhale it. Cold swept into her body, her nerves shot and frayed, her muscles constricted and her blood set aflame. Her legs trembled as they struggled to hold her weight, causing her to fall onto the dirty floor in a heap. In a desperate attempt to allow the passage of air into her lungs, Wendy clawed at her neck, wheezing, bloody prints covering every part of her body she could reach.

“What did... you… do?” She wheezed; her voice strained.

She could hear voices all around her, not allowing her to pinpoint where her enemy was.

The pressure on her throat lessened, allowing her to draw stuttered and desperate breaths into her beaten lungs, she looked frantically around the room, “Where are you, you coward?!”

“I am inside you. I am in the blood of your veins and in every breath you take,” the bodiless voice hissed, taunting her.

Wendy felt the pressure inside her head increase and something wet and cold rolling down her neck, she could faintly taste the coppery blood in her mouth.

Through her immense pain she managed to utter another incantation, “Depellendum esse hoc!” Her voice airy, her vision fading around the edges and dark spots appearing.

Suddenly, the suffocating pain stopped, leaving her lightheaded. She felt the wetness continuing to trail down her neck, and she touched it, unsure of what it was. Through her clearing vision, she saw her hand was stained with blood.

“How is this possible?!” The many voices belonging to the same being, the place around her shook, as if it were thundering.

She laughed slowly, her hands were now palm down on the floor, her knees planted firmly so as to allow her a moment’s respite to stand up. With what little bodily strength she had left, Wendy pushed her upper body upwards, her head held high in defiance as her gaze settled upwards, “I am a daughter of Asgard, we defy all odds.”

A disfigured form started arranging itself from the leftover mist. This new figure resembled a man, two horn-like stubs peering out of its head, two round globes on its chest area and a single protrusion on its lower back that was uncannily similar to a tail. Instead of feet, a dark dust surrounded the bottom half of the being.

The black mouth of the creature opened, a gaping black hole of nothingness, but the voice came loud and clear, though the mouth remained unmoving, “I must admit I am impressed. Never have I been reduced to my form.”

Wendy finally looked in the direction of her torturer, she laughed almost maniacally, “Is that your true form? Pathetic!” She wheezed airily. Logically, she knew she was playing a dangerous game, but she had to buy herself some time before her next move was made.

The being let out an otherworldly screen, the hollowness of its mouth extending further, threatening to rip the disfigured head in half, “I am tired of playing games with you, witch! I am the Master and this is my realm!”

Wendy felt the temperature rising around her, her left hand stifling the blood flow from the wound on her side, and with her free hand she wiped under her nose and over her mouth.

This is it, Kitty. Please don’t fail me now.

Beauchamp house

“Well, I think we got that contained,” sighed Tommy. He sat on the floor, his legs crossed underneath his body, by the head of the figure laying on the couch.

Her robe had been opened slightly, allowing him and Joanna to treat her wound unobstructed, while still leaving her modesty covered, though he was pretty sure that every person in the room had seen her naked at least once. He was broken out of his reverie by a hand touching his shoulder softly.

“You shouldn’t worry. My sister is the most infuriatingly stubborn person ever, she will succeed.”

Underworld

“I’m getting out of here if it’s the last thing I do!” Wendy yelled as she charged at the Master of the realm. White sparks of magic curling around her body, no spell needed this time, as her anger and her desire to be reunited with her family took hold over her.

The clash of darkness and light was unmistakable in the fiery pit.

Chapter Text

“She’s bleeding from everywhere!” Freya screeched in a frenzy.

“We are doing everything we can!” Replied her mother.

She and Tommy were using cotton, rags, bandages, towels –– pretty much everything they inside the old house in order to stop the flow of blood coming from Wendy’s nose, mouth and ears. Bloody scratches marred the porcelain skin in her neck, black and blue adorning several parts of her body, and some of her veins were outlined in the same colors.

The EMT was a professional caretaker, but seeing all of this happening to the woman he loved shook him deeply. Joanna, a woman of steel and reason was on the verge of tears yet again, her eyes glassy, her face pale and drawn, her hands not as steady as they should have been –– seeing the results of a battle she took no part in evidenced on Wendy’s body was heart-wrenching.

The door to the old manor swung open and in came Killian with three boxed pizzas in hand. His looming figure froze upon seeing the scene unfolding in the living room of the house. He made quick work of setting the pizza boxes on the nearest flat surface before taking long strides to reach Freya, extending an arm towards her sister, giving them both a chance to rest against him, hiding their faces on his shoulder.

Unnoticed by the other occupants of the room, Killian’s face twisted into a sick grin, It shouldn’t be long now.

Suddenly, a blinding light flooded the room, making everyone shield their eyes as best they could. Eventually the brightness receded enough to allow them to uncover their eyes. Tommy sputtered, Joana’s mouth hung open and the girls were crying, still in Killian’s embrace.

“Mom! What happened?!” Freya screeched, her voice loud and shrill.

Joanna remained speechless, her sister’s prone form had disappeared right under her hands and ––

“No, no, no, no, no!” Joanna’s hand trembled as they held onto her dark tresses, her form crumpling inwards.

“Where is she?!” Tommy thundered; his strength betrayed by the audible crack in his voice.

“Where’s Aunt Wendy?” Asked Ingrid, her eyes scanning her mother’s form.

Tommy grabbed Joanna’s shoulder, making her look up at him, and the pain in those brown eyes was an indicator of the predicament they were in, “Where is she?! What happened?!”

“Her body is not here! What do you think that means?” Joanna yelled. She was angry. Angry because she had lived with a curse for centuries. Angry because she had seen her daughters die time and time again. Angry, because they had overcome all hardships, just to lose another member of the family. Angry at everything. Devastated.

The EMT sagged, his body crumpling like fragile porcelain after being dropped. He punched the floor in anger and despair –– once, twice, and after the third time, Killian walked behind him and grabbed his arm, avoiding further injury. The younger witches clung onto their mother in this moment of grief.

Loud mourning enveloped the family.

“What’s with all the cryin’ and wailin’?”

A voice. Her voice.

Five heads snapped in the direction of the entrance to the living room.

Wendy stood there, her pallor white and pasty, her eyes tired but sparkling with life. Slightly hunched over and holding onto the frame of the doorway to keep herself upright, long tresses of raven hair cascading over her shoulder. A dress that might have once been white and pristine now enveloped her body; torn, tattered, and bloodied.

“Wendy!” Joanna squealed as she ran to her sister, throwing both arms around her sister’s lithe body, holding onto her for dear life, her sobs taking over every other sound around them. She did not notice when her daughters joined in on the hug, and Joanna found herself squished between her daughters’ heat and Wendy’s cold skin.

The combined strength of the hug was digging into her injured form, but Wendy refused to let go. She refused to let them go ever again. The thought of never being able to see them again was more torturing than anything she had lived through.

With her eyes closed, Wendy knew that there was someone missing from this reencounter. Her eyes snapped open in search of the person she wanted to see, her eyes zeroed in on him and she let go of a breath she hadn’t known she had been holding.

“Wendy…” tommy whispered. His voice breaking and barely audible. She heard him, she always heard him.

That was all it took for the women holding onto to let go. One whispered word from him and everything she had been repressing came back full force. She loved him.

“Tommy…” She whispered back, her voice cracking just as his had done moments ago.

She took a tentative step in his direction, and that was all it took for him to cross the room in hurried strides, encircling her waist with his arms. He couldn’t hold back his joy, his relief, his love, so he twirled her around, making sure she was all he saw. Wendy could not hold herself back anymore, she grabbed his head in trembling hands, forcing him to put her down, before she kissed him deeply. Needing to feel him there with her.

Tommy’s heart was overjoyed, he held more tightly onto her, making sure she wouldn’t disappear from his arms.

The strength with which he held her pressed on her battered body, unwillingly, she hissed in pain. The man let go of her, taking a step closer into her immediate space, “Look at me! Show me where it hurts!”

“Everywhere,” Wendy said slowly. And just like that, the floor was rushing towards as her legs gave out, Tommy’s quick reflexes were the only reason she did not feel the impact of the cold ground below her. The last thing she saw was the face of her boyfriend before her world turned to darkness.

Joanna made a dash for her sister as the EMT gently set her down on the floor, making sure to cradle her upper body and letting it rest comfortably against him. One arm supporting her back, while his free hand pressed two fingers to her neck, and dared to exhale only when he felt a thready beat under his digits.

“She’s alright. Just sleeping, I think.” He commented to Joanna. But she had not completely heard him, as her hands were busy whispering in Latin, traveling over her sister’s body as a faint warm light emanated from them.

“Is she okay?” Asked Ingrid in a low voice.

Her mother was the one to answer, “I think everything caught up with her.”

Freya spoke for the first time since her aunt reappeared, “Why did she just drop like that? That’s can’t be okay! We should take her to the hospital!”

Joanna chose not to answer her daughter’s questions, instead choosing to look at the man in front of her.

“Can you take her up to her room?” She asked softly.

Tommy nodded, and carefully, he maneuvered his limbs around her so he could hold onto her safely. The muscles in his arms tightening as he lifted her, standing up with her in his arms. His eyes turned concerned, as he took notice yet again of how incredible light she was. Her cold skin making goosebumps appear on his and the offending blood on her clothes staining his own, making it sticky and forever damaging the fabric.

“Mom?” Ingrid pried, her voice small and wavering, like when she was a child and scared. Joanna opened her arms to her eldest child, and was not surprised when she ran into them, wanting her mother’s comfort.

“Shh, shh… It’s alright. We’re going to be alright,” She comforted. She allowed a moment to collect herself before letting go of her child, “I have to go see Wendy.”

As Joanna started walking in the direction of the stairs, she heard her youngest daughter talking to her boyfriend, but she was not paying attention, her mind set on her sister. After climbing the stairs and marching into the bedroom, she saw Tommy sitting at the edge of the bed, just looking at her sister’s prone form ­­–– as if he were afraid to touch her.

She cleared her throat softly, announcing her presence in the room. Distantly she heard her daughters’ footsteps climbing the stairs. Joanna knew the man needed a moment to process, so she softly asked him to step out. The EMT nodded slowly and mindlessly left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

“Why did you ask him to leave?” Freya asked, her eyes red-rimmed and her face confused.

“I need to heal her, see what happened to her,” Joanna explained, as he inched closer to her sister’s chest, a spell ready at the tip of her tongue, but suddenly, Wendy’s hand flew and grabber her wrist in a dead grip, eyes wide open.

“Jo?” Wendy’s gravelly voice resonated in the quiet house; her eyes half-lidded.

Joanna nodded and smiled softly, and when her sister released her hand, she used it to pet her sister’s hair, willing her to rest, “It’s okay, Wen. It’s just me, go back to sleep.”

Wendy hummed, she closed her eyes and her head lolled to the side as she succumbed once again into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Joanna was wearing blue jeans, a grey button-up shirt with white dots on it, black boots with a small heel. She was standing in front of the stove in the kitchen, currently cooking breakfast for everybody present in her house.

Cooking helped take her mind off things, and with everything that had been happening in the last few days, she needed an out. So, cooking helped, over the centuries it had become a mindless task she found relaxing.

Footsteps echoes around the old manor, but Joanna didn’t turn from the stove. The pitter patter of feet grew closer until a pair of slender arms encircled her waist, and a head was pressed into the back of her shoulder. A few locks of the individual’s hair fell over the matriarch’s shoulder; long, black, silky.

“Wendy?” Joanna called out, softly. To be honest, she was mildly surprised that her sister was the first to wake up after yesterday’s events. She definitely had been expecting Tommy, or even Ingrid.

Slowly, Joanna turned in her sister’s arms and hugged the smaller woman. When she pulled back, her gaze traveled up and down her sister’s figure, extremely surprised by her choice of wear. Wendy was wearing loose, grey sweatpants, a black hoodie, and short black socks. Clothes she had never seen, or even imagined, her sister wear.

“I missed you so much, Jo…” The younger woman whispered in a soft voice.

Joanna chuckled slightly, “I missed you, too, Kitten. A lot. I could not imagine my life without my sister running around, causing trouble!”

Wendy’s belled laughter joined her sister’s, “I don’t cause trouble!”

The brown-eyed woman looked into her sister’s blue eyes and smiled, turning once again to the stove, paying attention to the last of the pancakes in the making. Wendy padded gingerly to one of the chairs by the table, so she could join her sister.

“So, you are blessed,” Joanna probed. The answer she received was a mere hum of acknowledgment.

“Oh, come on, Wendy!”

“What do you want me to say, Jo?” Wendy exclaimed, her arms held tightly to her midsection in a defensive manner, getting anxious with the topic at hand.

“You have to talk to someone about this…”

“I kno–”, But Wendy hadn’t managed to finish her sentence, as Freya burst into the room, her feet skidding on the floor of the kitchen.

“Mom! Something happened to Aunt Wendy, she isn’t in her- Oh.” Freya’s frantic speech halted when she saw her aunt sitting there in the kitchen table, very much alive.

The young witch paused for a moment, tears stinging her eyes and she shuffled rather quickly to her aunt, hugging her tightly, burying her face in the crook of Wendy’s neck, inhaling her aunt’s characteristic smell.

“I- I woke up, I w- went to see you a- and you weren’t there-” But before Freya could finish, her stammering turned into sobs as she melted into her aunt’s embrace.

Wendy’s eyes shone, her beautiful niece crying broke her heart, “Shh, I’m here. I’m okay, ready to resume being the best aunt whenever you’re ready, girl!” She tried her best to make the young woman smile.

“I- I just don’t want you to leave again!”

“I-m not leaving, munchkin. Not ever again…” She whispered. She looked at her sister over her niece’s shoulder and urged her to join the hug. Joanna turned the stove off and stood by her family in their torment.

When Freya had calmed down, she joined her aunt sitting at the kitchen table with her mother continued coking breakfast.

The silence was broken by Wendy, “Does anyone know where Frederick’s body is?”

Freya choked on her own saliva, her bottom lip trembling, “What?” With everything that had happened yesterday, she had not caught that very important piece of information.

Joanna sighed, “Don’t worry, it will be alright,” her gaze turned to her sister, “I was going to ask you to find him and bring him back at some point. But I would very much prefer if we waited for you to rest before attempting any magic.”

Wendy trained her eyes on her older sister, her face showing incredulity, “I’m not waiting to find my nephew, Jo!”

The eldest witch turned around from the stove, “You are still weak from yesterday. Please, listen to me.”

Wendy was about to retort, but was quickly cut off by Freya looking at her with blue eyes that resembled her own, “Please, I lost you once. I- I can’t lose you again…”

Wendy closed her mouth and extended her left hand to touch her niece’s arm, her right hand closing on the pendant that she had woken up with, a nervous habit she had always had.

Since waking up, she had refused to check the color of the pendant that had accompanied every day for centuries, but this time around she was afraid of what she would see.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Freya’s question, “Why is your necklace blue? I’ve never seen that color before.”

The feline witch’s eyes widened, she turned the pendant towards herself, then turned her head towards her sister, her face still surprised.

Chapter Text

“Immortality?” Freya gasped.

Wendy cleared her throat and answered, her voice hoarse, “Well, you know that when my necklace was green it meant that I had a couple of lives left. When it turned red, I had one. And well, you know what happened when it turned black”, slightly cringing at the memory of her death.

Death really shouldn’t have been a touchy subject in their family, having experienced it so many times with their girls. Wendy remembers clearly each and every time Joanna has given birth, each time falling in love with her nieces, vowing to protect them with everything she had, only to fail time and time again. Her eyes growing wet and her breath trembling at the memories.

“But when we were in Asgard, Wendy’s necklace was blue, the necklace had been a gift from our sister, and reflected her powers,” Joanna added, snapping Wendy from her turmoil. She did, however, notice that the feline witch’s breath was coming out in short, little pants that showed her agitation.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

The youngest woman looked at her aunt and then at her mother and repeated the motion until she screeched with happiness.

Tommy had woken up with Freya's happy screech as he had slept in one of the couches in the living room. He had fallen asleep on the loveseat closest to the unlit fireplace, vehemently avoiding the longer couch ­–– the memory of his girlfriend’s lifeless body laying prone haunted him.  The bags under his eyes sufficed as evidence that even if he had slept, it hadn't been particularly restful.

His mind kept replaying the moment in which he had opened his eyes and taken a new breath into his lungs just to come face to face with Wendy's collapsed body right beside him. How her stark parlor seemed paler, her smooth skin losing the glow that was always present, the warmth that hid underneath her skin, a heat that she had once told him was due to being a cat - or her kitty, as she liked to call her.

Wendy... Where was she? Was she awake?

Was she alive?

His ears perked up at the sound of several voices coming from the the kitchen, he could hear Joanna, Freya and... Wendy! He scrambled quickly and made his way to the source of the voices. As he crossed the threshold and walked into the kitchen he stopped. His feet planted on the ground beneath him, his smile grew and eyes crinkled at the corners to show his happiness just at the sight of her. Laughing with her family.

"Tommy?" And his gaze focused solely on the one his heart yearned for. The woman grinned. His breath caught in his lungs and it barely escaped his mouth in a breathy whisper of her name, so low that no one could hear it. He guessed that being able to shift into a cat had some perks since she heard him, and he knew it. Her eyes told him everything. His feet started moving on their own accord, one unbearable step at a time as he desperately tried to cover the distance between them.

Wendy got up from her seat and in the blink of an eye she was standing right in front him and he could almost feel the heat radiating from her skin. Without hesitation he extended his arms until he had them wrapped around her small waist and lifted her. His nose burying itself into her long hair, inhaling her.

Carefully he set her down, making sure to keep a hold of her. His eyes searched every piece of her exposed skin ––though not much; strangely enough–, looking for something amiss, something not quite right.

“How do you feel?"

Rationally, he knew that it was a dumb question, but what did you say to someone who gave their life for you? Who went to Hell and fought a mythical creature he did not believe in to come back? Silently he took in Wendy's appearance, the garments adorning her body were more than strange compared to her normal outfits, but taking into account the day before and the last few days in general he could not blame her, but she looked at him with those stormy eyes and a smile –– he forgot everything else, he just saw her.

"Ya know me, handsome. I’m okay, just tiny bit sore,” she tried to play it off as something minimal, but the moment the words had left her mouth she cringed at the heat of her sister’s gaze.

"Sore?" Jonna asked, frowning.

Wendy turned to look at her sister directly in the eyes, the younger of the two witches decided to give her newfound powers a little test run. She concentrated on her sister, on the unspoken language they shared, trying to convey her message.

Please, Jo. For once in your life, let it go, please, the raven-haired woman pleaded silently with her sister.

Joanna’s eyes widened, Wendy?!

Wendy sputtered and subsequently choked on her own saliva, What the-

And just like that, something snapped, her connection with her sister dropped and she was alone in her head once again. Her ears were buzzing and her throat dry, the stormy-eyed woman swayed on her feet her legs gave out on her. The ground was rushing to meet her when a pair of strong arms grabbed her as Tommy cradled her lithe body bridal style, "Woah there! Are you okay?" He asked, his brows furrowed.

Wendy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, due to her heightened senses she could smell Tommy, his scent –– smelling soap and musk. Each person had their own and unique scent which with time, Wendy learned to identify as a person's. Joanna smelled like herbs and paint, a strange yet oddly comforting scent that she could describe as warm. Warmth is what she felt whenever she smelled Joanna, it was the smell of a mother and a nurturer. Freya had a smell of alcohol and Sweet Alyssums, a deadly and seductive odor. Ingrid was like old books and herbs, wisdom and knowledge. She buried her nose in her boyfriend's shirt and continued to breath deeply until the thundering behind her eyes became less suffocating.

Wendy hummed, "I'm a little woozy. I think that I'm going back to my room." And she looked at Tommy and gave a small smile with tired eyes as a sign that he should put her down, "Are you sure that you want to walk the whole way there?" He asked.

"I'll go with you." Joanna intercepted before Tommy or her daughter could say anything. She was certainly curious about what that little episode with Wendy had been, but that curiosity became overshadowed by the concern she felt for her sister. She walked towards Wendy and laced their arms as soon as her sister was standing on her own volition.

"Why don't you get on with breakfast while I go with her?" She threw over her shoulder to the two people remaining in the room, but as soon as she and her sister reached the base of the stairs she realized that it might be a problem. Wendy was leaning on Joanna for support as they walked and upon reaching the steps her sister had stopped and her breath trembled as it escaped from her thin lips. Joanna frowned and looked at Wendy who would not meet her eye and sneaked her arm across her waist but stopped when she heard her sister whine.

Wendy couldn't help but let put that tiny sound at the burning sensation that crept up her whole body, sharp pains developing under her sister’s hand. It was the same place where one of the most obvious injuries had appeared the night before.

Without voicing her concerns, Joanna held on once again and together they started trekking upstairs sluggishly.

Neither talked until Wendy's room had been reached and the younger witch was laying down on her bed with her sister standing by her side with a grimace adorning her lips.

"How did you do that?" Came the harsh whisper.

"What? Talk in each other’s heads?” Wendy asked in an airy voice.

Joanna sighed and made a gesture with her hands to show her exasperation at Wendy's aloofness, "Yes!"

Wendy trained both her eyes on her sister's brown orbs, "I don't really know. I just thought our secret language, you know? The way that you and I understand each other without words."

The brunette sighed, she raised her right hand to rub at the bridge of her, "What happened down there? Are you still hurting?"

"Promise me you won't freak out."

"Wendy-"

"Promise me!" She received a nod in response.

Carefully, Wendy lifted the hem of her black hoodie and peeled it back, she gulped when Joanna gasped.

"Oh, my God," Joanna whispered. "What happened?"

The blue-eyed woman, though uncomfortable, looked at her sister with a piercing stare and hissed: "I don't know. I woke up today and I found these!"

Joanna raised her left hand to hover over her sister's battered body and whispered the same incantation she had used the day before for the very same reason, the crease between her eyebrows became more prominent as the wounds appeared to heal but left purplish-red marks behind.

"Was this what happened today or did you faint for another reason?"

Wendy let out a mock gasp, her eyes shining with laughter as she hit Joanna lightly on the arm, "I did not faint!" To which Joanna raised her eyebrow and daringly grinned.

"That was so not fainting," She laughed, but once the laughter dissolved into a lazy uplift at the corners of her mouth, the worry in Joanna's eyes became prominent again.

"What really happened to you down there?" Joanna asked. She grabbed the hem of her sister's hoodie and tugged it back down and softly patted her sister's toned stomach in a reassuring way.

The smallest of sighs escaped through Wendy's lips, that small gust of air showed her apparent frustration at the situation and her embarrassment at having everyone witness her little episode downstairs.

"I think that maybe I used my powers too soon? I created the connection between us and once it was snapped I just felt... unbalanced. And there was this pounding in my head and everything was heavy..." She explained in a small voice.

Joanna sat on the edge of the bed, making her sister scoot over a small bit and leaned down, "Stay here and rest. No magic. Just rest, okay?"

The older sister moved a silken strand of raven hair from Wendy's forehead where she placed a small kiss and Wendy closed her eyes to take in the gesture.

When Joanna stood up and started walking to the door, Wendy cracked her eyes open, "Jo?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

The mother of three turned to the bleary-eyed woman on the bed and said: "I would do anything for you as long as you stop giving me near-heart attacks and making me cry like that."

"Aww, you cried for me?" Came the teasing response.

Joanna played along and make a 'Who? Me?' sign with her hands, but the tormented brow eyes behind the playful gesture showed the tears shed and the pain felt that night.

"Of course I cried! Wen, you're my sister, my best friend for all eternity... I don't want to find out what life without you is like. We already played that game once and it didn't turn out good for any of us," And just like that, the memories of Ingrid's death at Wendy's hand resurfaced. The agony of that day and the following years made Wendy's chest constrict painfully as her heart almost physically burned. She remembered what being truly alone was like, she didn't have Joanna, she didn't have the girls. Lonely, hurting, and lost for many years.

"I really thought that I had lost you forever..." A lone tear from the corner of Joanna's eye crept down, which she hastily wiped.

Wendy's look softened, "Don't cry. We're here, we'll be okay."

She beckoned Joanna to come closer so she could pull her in for a hug. It lasted a few moments before they broke the embrace. Joanna kissed her sister's forehead lovingly, squeezed her hand and walked to the door and with a last forlorn look, she closed the door behind her and made her way downstairs with a promise to bring breakfast up for her sister.

Once in the kitchen she was bombarded with questions from Freya and Tommy. Questions that even she could not answer, but tried to play it off, promising to herself that she would fix this.

Chapter Text

Joanna managed to get Wendy's lover to leave the house after convincing him that there were lives in need of saving and if anything regarding Wendy's condition changed, they would call him immediately. It warmed her heart to know that her sister had someone like him to love and protect her. She knew that the love he felt for her sister was an unrestrained one, it was whole. He stayed and listened, even if he ran immediately after witnessing her sister shift — but that was normal, who wouldn't run after seeing a cat turn into a human right before their eyes? But he had listened to Wendy, he had accepted her powers and the ones of her family, their curse and everything that came with it. He had been possessed by their father and killed by their hands already, yet he never doubted to not leave Wendy's side. He remained present and helpful.

"Is Aunt Wendy okay?" Came Freya's voice.

The brunette thought for a moment—what should she tell her child who was so obviously worried about her aunt? Her mind became at war with itself, she promised that she would't lie to her daughters again, but she didn't want to worry them with things that neither she nor Wendy could explain.

After considering her next words carefully she said: "She needs time to heal and recover."

"Recover from what? I thought that you healed her yesterday!"

A sigh left her thin lips, "I did. You have never been in the Underworld—that you remember, of course. But each time Wendy dies, she experiences a small part of what it could be. This time around, she died entirely. For some reason, her wounds are not healing completely, we don't know why..."

She regretted her chosen words when Freya's eyes started watering and her bottom lip trembled, so she drew her youngest into the comfort of her warm embrace.

Upstairs in her own bedroom, Ingrid woke with a gasp, in her alarmed state her mind kept replaying last night's events. From the death of her aunt to the white stick, that she hoped with every fiber of her being was incorrect. Easily she became a whirlwind of panic and uncertainty. What if it had all been a dream? What if her aunt was still dead?

She knew from her memories of her past lives that she and Wendy were connected. Somehow, her aunt was the only one that saw her for who she was. Wendy understood Ingrid in ways that Joanna and Freya never did — that no one could understand but her. She had always felt some kind of void in her life, but unlike Freya, her void was a person.

She was at disadvantage whenever memories of lifetimes mattered because she could only rememberer bits and pieces of certain lives, but each she remembered Wendy most of all. She remembered how empty she felt until her aunt returned, it was as if something in Ingrid had been filled –– that void that seemed to have taken residence deep within her gradually had gotten smaller since Wendy's arrival into her life; but last night, that void had returned bigger than ever. Wendy had been the one to encourage Ingrid to do things for herself. The older witch knew what Ingrid was thinking, being able to read her too well. Wendy was what had been missing all that time.

Being the shy librarian brought her peace and it was something she enjoyed, something that didn't come with risks. Wendy came into her life causing a hurricane of emotions that sent her sprawling into life. Until Wendy, she hadn't been living a life. It was Wendy who had sent a fearful Ingrid into a life of excitement, but her aunt had also watched over her. Every step of the way, without interfering until it was necessary.

Maybe the fear that was engrained deep into Ingrid's bones was caused by the absence of Wendy, her security net, her strength.

In a flash, Ingrid flung the covers off her body and sprinted towards her aunt's room but stopped once she came across the shut door. What if it had been a dream? What if Wendy was still dead? With a trembling hand she reached for the knob on the door, the metal cool under her clammy hand.

Biting her lip; she opened the door all the way and the breath she had been holding escaped her lungs when, with glistening eyes she saw the figure laying on the bed. She slowly walked towards the edge of the bed, her hand reaching out to touch her aunt, to reassure herself that this was real—that Wendy was real and alive.

As if sensing her, Wendy lazily opened one eye and smiled when she was Ingrid, "Howdy there."

Ingrid stood there, with her eyes wide open and uncertain, her mouth slightly open, as if she wanted to say something that wouldn’t come out, but then she shook her head and said something in a voice so low that no one would have heard it.

 "Hey..."

But Wendy did. Wendy heard her. Like she always did. So, she patted the space next to her on the bed as an invitation for Ingrid to lay down with her.

Knowing the girl as she did, she realized that something was rattling the girl, so she stayed quiet. She knew that she needed to push a little for Ingrid to open up, but push too much and she would close, it had always been like that. In every lifetime. With every Ingrid that was so similar yet so different to the ones that had come before her.

"Aunt Wendy?" And just like that Ingrid seemed like a young girl again, Wendy remembered all the times that she had put Ingrid to sleep, that she had cuddled her and tucked her in.

"Hmm?"

Biting her lip, she asked: "Can I—can I sleep with you?" And looked down, she looked anywhere but at the woman right in front of her.

The answer that came from her aunt surprised her and it didn't at the same time.

"Of course you can," Wendy said. She would never deny anything like this to either of her girls, much less to Ingrid.

"C'mon, what do you say we take a mornin’ nap?" The older woman spoke.

Ingrid nodded rapidly and went to the other side of the bed and watched as Wendy got under the covers, so she rushed to do the same. Wendy laid on her side facing Ingrid who seemed to have settled on the edge of the bed, as far away from her aunt as the bed allowed. The feline woman reached out and touched her niece's arm and that's all it took to make Ingrid turn towards her and scoot so she was right next to the older woman, the tip of her nose touching the place where her collarbones would be and tensed when Wendy threw her arm over her. It made her feel safer than she ever had and she nuzzled against the heat that her aunt was offering.

"Have you always been this warm?" Came the muffled question.

Wendy laughed quietly, the vibration seemed like a hum to Ingrid, making her both happy and sleepy.

"It's a cat thing." And Ingrid could already see the grin on her aunt's lips. Even if being able to shift into a cat was part of her curse, Ingrid was sure that she loved being a cat.

Wendy frowned, she had not felt the purr of her kitty since coming back, what if her death took her kitty away? Blue eyes focused beyond her niece’s hair, her gaze unfocused, but her mind was searching inside her own self, trying to find a connection to her kitty.

There she was. Far away, slumbering, but still there. A soft purring noise emanated from her chest, making her niece look at her, bewildered.

“What is that?”

The older woman smiled and released a soft breath, her anxiety subsiding, “That is kitty, telling you how much she loves you.”

Ingrid hummed, so many questions about ‘Kitty’, but she would wait to ask all of them.

Ingrid broke the silence yet again, "Does this bother you?" She asked, referring to the new position. She felt Wendy shake her head and tighten her hold on Ingrid as a response. It was after Wendy kissed her forehead that Ingrid let herself slip into the blessed embrace of sleep under her aunt's protective, warm and loving arms. It didn't take long for Wendy to sleep either, her niece's scent grounding her. She was home.

Downstairs, Freya disentangled herself from her mother's arms and dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Can we go?" She sniffed. Joanna, with a watery smile, nodded and took her daughter's hand and together, mother and daughter, climbed the stairs. As they approached their destination, Joanna frowned when she saw the door that she had previously closed had been left ajar. Quietly and hand-in-hand, mother and daughter stepped inside Wendy's room only to smile at the sight that greeted them.

Ingrid, the most rational and independent person that Joanna had ever known was currently sleeping curled into her aunt's arms with her own arm thrown lazily on Wendy's waist and her face burrowed in the other woman's chest. Both fast asleep

Freya let go of her mother's hand and walked soundlessly to the bed and sat down on its edge. Wendy's eyes opened to reveal blue pools fogged with sleep. Freya smiled at her aunt and waved.

"You wanna hop in, too?" Wendy asked, her voice no more than a whisper, aware of the figure curled up at her side.

Freya shrugged off her slippers and slid in the bed just as Wendy rolled on her back and shifted so that Ingrid's head was nestled on her right shoulder and still have enough space for Freya to do the same on the other side.

"Are you okay?" Freya whispered, her eyes fearful eyes gazing into Wendy's, and perhaps she believed that if she looked deep enough into her aunt's eyes that she would find the answers and reassurance she so desperately wanted.

Wendy just smiled, her teeth shining a pearly white behind her pink lips and said: "I'm fine, stop worryin', you'll get wrinkles!" She teased.

Now directing her gaze to her sister, "Are you joining us?" She asked.

Joanna smiled, "I have to work, but I'll be back before any of you wake up." Her voice barely above a whisper for fear of disturbing the still sleeping Ingrid, she knew that Wendy could hear her anyway.

She had always known that Wendy's senses were heightened after they were cursed and expelled from Asgard, she remembered how at the beginning it had all been very tough for her sister. She remembered the first time her sister shifted without meaning to and how pained she had sounded –– how any noise above normal speaking level made her cover her ears; she thanked whoever was watching over them that with time, Wendy had managed to deal and adapt her hearing to live a normal life, or as normal as it could get considering that they were evicted and cursed witches in a world of humans.

She heard Wendy's hum and watched as her sister closed her eyes once again, with both of her nieces snuggled at her sides like they used to do many years ago before she had sent her sister away. It didn't take long for Wendy to fall asleep after Freya did, she was warm and tired and two of the most important people were there. They were alive.

Joanna smiled at the scene in front of her and silently took her phone out to snap a photo, stopping for a moment to admire it and her insides swelled with sadness at the situation that had caused such tender moment. This time around she was going to make sure that no one hurt her family again. She would do whatever it took to keep them safe, she wouldn't fail again. 

Chapter Text

Hours later, the midday sunbeams streamed through the gaps of the partially closed curtains. With and intake of breath Wendy woke up to the hushed voices of her nieces having a conversation.

"How long have you been awake?" She asked both, startling them.

"Morning!" Freya smiled.

"I'm pretty sure it's noon by now." Ingrid replied.

Wendy laughed, the vibrations rumbling in her chest enough for Ingrid and Freya to feel them, their heads bobbing with their movement, "How did you sleep?"

"Like a baby." Said Ingrid, Freya nodded in agreement.

"You're very comfy." The youngest said with a sleepy sigh.

"Should I be glad or..."

Both chuckled, "Oh no, you should totally be glad!" Ingrid chimed.

"Aunt Wendy?" Freya's small voice came.

"Hmm?"

"What was it like?" She asked and Ingrid remained silent.

"What was what like?" Wendy asked, confused.

"In... Hell?"

Wendy almost choked, she tensed. Ingrid wished her sister had not asked the moment she felt the muscles underneath her arm contract. Wendy's breath felt like it was being held hostage in her lungs, the memories, the sensations like ghosts on her skin—they became too much for the black-haired witch. She didn't want to remember; she didn't want to subject her nieces to the horrors of that place.

"It's okay, Aunt Wendy. You don't have to tell us..." Freya whispered, she, too had felt how her aunt had become guarded. Being pressed at her side she could feel the rigidness of the soft body underneath her.

Wendy sighed, "Girls, the Underworld is something I wish you never have the conscience to experience. It's a torment for eternity—us, witches, get tormented for eternity."

"But you were't there for eternity..." Ingrid whispered, was she curious or comforting? She didn't know.

Wendy wanted to laugh; she really did. Granted, she came back to her family, but Elena's anger and thirst for vengeance had been released upon her body, feeling things that she would only wish on her worst enemies, and maybe not even them. Things she was not about to tell her nieces, things she would never tell Joanna.

"Well, I think it's time for me to get out of bed!" She exclaimed, changing the topic of conversation as she stretched her arms from under Ingrid and Freya, something to which they both groaned at. They had been having a nice and peaceful time with their aunt, until the question. Warm, loved, and protected.

The older witch chuckled and slid her arms from under her nieces, "You can stay here if you wanna, I'm just gonna see if your mother's around."

And with that she sat and started removing herself from the bed, pushing herself up with her hand on Ingrid's body. She gasped, images flashing before her eyes and she couldn't stop them—visions.

Ingrid was in the bathroom, she looked troubled with her eyebrows pinched up and the normally soft lines on her youthful face looking harder than ever. She was clutching something in her hands, an object that resembled a stick. The image was gone before she could look at it again closely.

Another one.

Ingrid, her hands over her swollen stomach. Swollen? A baby...

Another.

Dash appeared beside Ingrid; both standing. Everyone was there, everyone was smiling. They were all happy. Dash's left arm rested on Ingrid's shoulder while his other hand drew circles on her stomach.

Another.

Ingrid, walking in a park. But she wasn't alone, Dash was with her and they were holding hands, on one of the warlock's arms was a small bundle wrapped in a blue blanket.

Coming back from her vision gasping, wide open, her chest heaving as she forced air into her lungs. Ingrid scrambled in front if her aunt, her gaze focused on the color if her aunt's eyes. Normally a blueish gray, now they were full blow gray with a strange yellowish ringlet at the edges, her pupils shrinking until they looked feline.

Wendy's gaze landed on Ingrid.

"Aunt Wendy," It was Ingrid."

Are you okay?" Another voice, to her left, Freya, asked.

"Huh?" She voiced. Her pupils returning to their normal size, her breathing slowing, her erratic pulse calming down.

"Are you okay?" Freya asked, blue met blue.

Wendy smiled, trying to keep her heart in her chest, "Yeah! I'm fine, I'm just gonna see if your mother's home." And with that, Wendy swung her legs around Ingrid and scampered towards the door and made and effort not to start yelling her sister's name.

"Joanna!" She called, looking around, Where is she?

Wendy glanced at the clock, "She has to be home already..." She muttered to herself.

"Outside!" She heard Joanna's voice, and she followed the echoing noises to the backyard where her sister was sitting on the ground. Slowly but surely, Wendy crept towards the older woman and quietly sat next to he, faltering for a moment and hissing when a silver of pain flared.

"Hey." She said in a loud whisper.

"Hey, you." Joanna smiled at her sister. The blue-eyed witch's knees were drawn up and her arms hugging her legs as her chin rested atop her knees.

That doesn’t look comfortable, Joanna thought, being mindful of the lesions that lay underneath all the clothing, she settled for asking: "How are you?"

She wasn't sure what Wendy's state of mind was, and to say the truth, Joanna was scared. Her sister was the one always offering comfort time and time again, never asking for anything. Wendy was the one full of brightness and smile and fun in a world as horrendous as theirs. To Joanna, being with her sister was rejuvenating, somehow, Wendy never let their curse change her in any way, she persisted fiercely, hoping that one day their curses would be broken—a strength that Joanna had failed to acknowledge. Even after everything they had endured, Wendy always found a way to make people smile in the darkness moment, she always made Joanna laugh and smile in ways that no one could.

"I'm okay." The younger of the two replied, vaguely.

A lie.

Joanna turned her head to her sister and lifted her sister's chin from her knees with her hand to make her look at her. With their eyes connected she asked: "Wen, how do you really feel?"

And the youngest of the two exhaled with a defeated sigh. It was one of those sounds that showed how tired people truly were just before giving up.

"I'm scared. I'm so tired of everything, and there's no amount of rest or sleep that can cure this," She took a shuddering breath before continuing, "I don't know, I guess that I'm just living up to everything that happened the last few days."

The matriarch lifted her arm and tenderly extended it along the length of her sister's small frame, pulling her into a one-armed hug as she pressed a kiss to the side of Wendy's forehead. The younger woman closer her eyes to revel in the moment. Her and Joanna rarely got cuddly around each other in public, rarely shared those moments in which you didn't know which one was comforting and with one was being comforted. It was wonderful to feel like that. The feeling of safety while free-falling in the emotional spiral, knowing that at the bottom there was someone to catch you—someone who would not let you slip.

"Oh, sweetheart, I am so sorry." Joanna whispered into her sister's hair. Wendy, so young in her eyes, having suffered untold pains and still standing. She had remained strong through all of this, but she finally reached a breaking point.

"Why are you sorry?", she sniffed.

"Because it's all my fault. I- I-" But she was cut off by her sister.

"Jo, no matter what you said or did, it wasn't. your fault. You couldn't have prevented that; you couldn't have known." A tear slid out of the corner of her eye. Those eyes that held so much fire and now, so much unrestrained power. A pair of eyes that looked not only mysterious, but they were able to gaze into your very soul. Those eyes that now looked so sad and broken, so full of turmoil.

Joanna's arm tightened around her sister, tears streaming down her own face, "But I didn't tell you about Elena. I didn't tell her that it wasn't you—that you didn't know."

Elena had always been a sore subject for both sisters for different reasons. Joanna remembered the sister she knew and that she helped, quite foolishly, to disown; Wendy remembered the sister she had and the one she thought had died, her heart mourning the death of someone she called family and would never see again only to find out the truth the hard way.

"Relationships with the people in this family are so very messed up," Wendy laughed, trying to lift the spirits. As usual, it didn't take long for both to burst into laughter. There was Wendy once again, making light of a situation with laughter. As always, Joanna wanted to laugh because if her sister was already cracking jokes about the hardships of their lives, then that meant that a small part of her had returned. A small part of who Wendy was, had healed. There was hope to be mended back together, to be a whole family.

"Jo?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you ready to get my nephew?" Wendy asked. She knew Joanna was waiting for her to get better before trying, they both knew it was a tedious process, it was quite the journey for the caster and the receiver of the spell, but honestly, Wendy was willing to take the risk if it meant her family would be whole.

She may not trust Frederick completely, but she was not going to leave him if she could help it. She would do anything for her family. Anything at all.

For her family, the people she loved, she'd do anything.

She'd die for them. She already did that, many times, but would do it again in a heartbeat. Why?

Because there is nothing Wendy Beauchamp wouldn't do for her people.

Chapter Text

Joanna smiled at her little sister, her brown eyes twinkling under the clear skies, but her look immediately turned into a frown.

"Are you sure, that you are ready for this?" She asked.

Wendy scrunched her nose, "Jo, this is Frederick we're talking about. I don't need to wait to bring him back."

Joanna sighed, "But Wendy, we don't know how you are doing, or how your powers will react and let’s take for a fact that you're still injured."

The black-haired witch looked at her older sister, "I know... But we have to do it. Frederick is family, and I owe it to Elena, at least."

Joanna's face twisted into a painful frown, she missed Elena, they had great times when they were younger. They were like three normal sisters.

Until I decided to help into getting her to the Underworld, Joanna thought, but she was snapped out of her reverie when she felt a soft, warm hand on her forearm and a small voice "Jo?"

Brown eyes focused back on the scene playing before her as she looked intently into Wendy's icy blue eyes, "Are you ready to do this?" Wendy asked.

Joanna took a moment to think, was she really ready for this? Frederick was her child, but endangering Wendy’s life again? That did not sit right with her.

"I think it is best if I check you first. Your injuries and your magic, I mean. We still need to find out why your wounds returned out of the nowhere."

Wendy sighed, "Jo, we don't have time. I waited until now to bring Frederick, we got to know who killed him because that can be a future problem, not only for us, but for everyone else. We can explore everything else later," Her piercing eyes locked onto Joanna's.

The brunette frowned, she wanted to bring her son back, desperately, but at what cost? There were so many questions regarding Wendy and it made Joanna immensely uneasy not knowing what could happen to her sister from that moment on.

Would she be able to bring Frederick? Probably. Would she be alright after it? She didn't know. Would Wendy be able to handle her new powers? She didn't know that either. How would these changes affect her family? She didn't know either. Would this affect her sister's relationship with Tommy? She didn't have an answer and it irritated her to no end. She was Joanna Beauchamp, Matriarch of the Beauchamp family and one of the most powerful and gifted witches, only second to the King of Asgard himself.

After a moment's worth of pondering and weighing pros and cons, Joanna let out a puff of air and looked into her sister's eyes, darker than ever before.

Whatever Elena did to Wendy down there, changed her. The brown-eyed woman wanted to be mad at Elena so, so badly. She wanted to hate her. She couldn't. She just couldn't. Because it was her fault that Elena did what she did, if Joanna hadn't believed their father, if she hadn't lied to Wendy, all of that could have been avoided, right?

"Jo, we're witches, we're Beauchamps, you can't wonder the what if's., Wendy said startling Joanna.

The brunette's eyes widened for a second and she spluttered, "How- wha-"

Wendy looked down, her head bowed, "Sorry... I just can't 'turn it off'." She said doing quotation signs with her hands. Joanna frowned, her eyes reflecting her worry.

"It's okay, Wendy. It must be hard to suddenly have all these... Abilities, and I'm so, so, so sorry that all of this is happening to you because of what Father and I did. It's all really my fault that yo-"

"Don't, Jo. None of this was your fault. We were all young and he was the manipulator. We, all three of us were just... Part of his game." Wendy extended her hand and swiftly grabbed Joanna's and squeezed.

She raised her head to look into her sister's chocolate eyes and smiled "Now, are you ready to bring my nephew back?" She asked, grinning.

That brought a smile to Joanna's own face and squeezed her sister's hand, "Yes, let's go."

And with that, both sisters stood hand in hand and walked inside, now calmer than ever. The thoughts troubling their minds temporarily forgotten. For the time being, at least.

Once inside, Joanna moved around the rooms looking for a map and something that belonged to her son. Something... Anything. In her trek up the old stairs leading to the upper level of their home, the oldest which in the household heard giggles and hushed voices coming from Wendy's room and smiled. Her daughter's where awake, yet they hadn't made a move to get out of their aunt's bed. They were just enjoying the time they had as sisters.

Joanna's lips curved downwards in a frown, Let them enjoy while they can, she thought, her mind going to the cruel realities that being part of their world included.

"I think I need Freya to locate him," And Joanna was startled, as she had not heard nor sensed her sister behind her.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Wendy apologized when she saw her sister jump, she had wondered, and she had reached the conclusion that Freya was the fastest way to find Frederick, as they were twins, they had a unique connection not easily severed; even if they had just found each other not that long ago.

The brunette sighed, "Wendy, I still think that you should take another day or two. I know that you're anxious, I am, too. But I honestly could not bear it if something happened to you because we rushed, so please, for once in your life, listen to me." When would her sister understand that she would not risk her safety again?

Wendy was quiet for a moment, her turbulent eyes remained downcast, her arms hugging her midsection, pensive. But after such pregnant silence, Wendy spoke, "Alright, Joanna, but you know as well as I do that there is a threat out there waiting for us to get out guard down."

"I will put all the protection spells I know around the house and on the girls, I promise. Now, will you please eat something? I want to do a checkup on you after that."

"Nothing's changed since you last saw me, I'm fine, there's no need for a checkup," Wendy grumbled, she really hated being in the spotlight, she hated being examined and prodded. Ugh, she could blame her Kitty for that.

Joanna walked the few paces between her and her sibling, "Wendy, you are going to eat, and then you're going to let me check you, because I'm your sister and I care, and if you're the same as you were this morning, I would like to see the full specter of it."

"Some times I hate you, you know?" Wendy said as she hugged her sister, softly, her warmth having a comforting effect on the older witch, Joanna laughed, soaking up the fact that she had her sister there, "Especially when I use the 'mom voice'." She chuckled.

"Especially when you use the 'mom voice'." Wendy echoed, chuckling softly.

Jonna parted, slightly removing herself from the hug so she could look her sister in the eyes, "Now, why don't you go back to bed and I'll bring you something to eat?"

The brunette made a mental note to call Tommy later, letting him know everything was alright and to invite him over for dinner.

"Well, seeing as my bed is occupied with two young witches, I think I'll suffer in your company for now." And hearing Wendy's remark, Joanna's lips turned upwards into a big smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkled at the familiarity of the statement.

Then, Wendy remembered why she had gone in rampant search of her sister, but then again, if what she was true, if they were truly visions, then Ingrid hadn't probably told anyone yet. Her best chance was talking directly to Ingrid, and then deciding what course of action to take. She wouldn't rat out her niece unless her safety was compromised, and by the looks of it, it was not.

Wendy's mind swirled with all the information she had received in the past few hours, not exactly believing it, not exactly not believing it. She had been able to connect mentally with her sister, something she hadn't been able to do before, then again, she hadn't really tried. She had to find out more, she had to talk to Elena. Oh, Elena, they had to do something to get her out of the Underworld for she did not deserve to have been incarcerated in that hellish place. She would set right the wrongs done in the past, even if it was the last thing she did. She would use this new chance at life to protect her family even more fiercely than before, she would not let it go to waste.

Her train of thought as cut off when Joanna placed a warm plate in front of her with a glass of cold milk and she smiled, Joanna knew her so well. She promptly dug into the food, silently surprised at how hungry she was, a lot had happened and she had skipped breakfast today.

The phone rang and Joanna went to pick it up, Wendy continued eating until her sister returned, "That was your boyfriend," and Wendy looked up, a smile on her face and her ears twitching like that of a cat's, "He was asking about you and asked if he could come over later. So, family dinner." Seeing her sister happy was worth it, she would give anything to have her sister happy after a lifetime of misfortunes and sufferings.

"That's great, but we may have to expand the bed as seeing that the girls are apparently sleeping with me now!" She joked, her eyes glinting with mischief and Joanna shook her head at her sister's antics, not even wanting to know what the was planning inside such mischievous head.

Seeing as the black-haired witch had finished her meal, she urged her to go upstairs and rest, saying that she would be there shortly; so, Wendy started moving in slow paces towards the stairs, "Wait!" She heard her sister exclaim and as she turned around Joanna asked: "Do you need help going up?"

Wendy looked at the stairs and thought for a moment, surely she could go about the stairs without her sister's aid, but going up was so much harder than going down 'That's why there's a highway to Hell and a stairway to Heaven...' she thought, sarcastically. She felt rather weak, and her body pulled in various places, pulsing injuries hidden under her conservative clothing.

Her silence told Joanna enough, as she walked towards her sister and put her arm around her sister's waist –– carefully avoiding where she knew some injuries lay –– while Wendy slung her arm around Joanna's shoulder, holding on and leaning on her, oh, how she hated those stairs.

The brunette silently worried for her sister, she had never heard of anything like what her sister had gone through, she had no knowledge at all, and she was scared. Scared that Wendy would not get better, that Frederick would not return to them, that everything would fall apart. She had to be strong, she couldn't lose hope now, when the impossible had happened right before her eyes, and if any of the stories about her sister were true, then they would be alright.

The younger witch was panting, her body betraying her as she her to extend her hand as to support herself on the wall, letting go of her sister to sit on the stairs, damn her weakness, she couldn't even climb the stairs, weak.

As if sensing the turn her sister's thoughts had taken, the older of the two spoke, "It's alright, we'll rest for a bit and then we can to your room."

Her heart ached, her usually independent sister, who was so used to doing things on her own would feel terrible for needing help climbing a simple set of stairs and not even managing to reach the top of the flight, so, she settled for rubbing soothing circles on Wendy's back when her sister leaned forward, hissing, and putting her head in her hands.

It took a moment for Wendy to pull herself together and stand up again, Joanna reached her and they got into position to start the ascension once more, and even though her younger sister was winded, they had made it to the top.

Hearing voices coming from her room, Wendy looked at Joanna a bit desperately, "My room then," Joanna said, and they started moving in said direction.

As soon as they opened the door, Wendy crashed on her sister's bed face down, immediately regretting when it irritated her abused body. Joanna moved fast to her sister's side, ready to assist her, but stopped her frantic movements when Wendy spoke, "Will you lay down with me?" She asked, turning her big blue eyes, shiny with a film of tears, on her older sister.

Joanna, being unable to resist her, walked to the other side of the bed and laid down on her side, watching her sister, ad it didn't take long for Wendy to curl her body beside her sister, bringing her knees up and looking so small as she hid her face on Joanna's blouse. Only letting out a small noise that loosely resembled a whine as the older witch ran her hand on her sister's hair, lightly scratching her back as she knew Wendy liked it, she remembered her sister saying that it was 'a cat thing'.

"I'm here, Kitten, and I'm not leaving you."

Chapter Text

Johanna focused her gaze back on her sister as she continued scratching her scalp with her blunt nails, untangling whatever locks of hair were perturbed by the movement. She knew that her sister had fallen asleep by the gentle motion caressing of a hand on her back, it was evidenced by the low purring sound, but Johanna did not want to stop her ministrations so her hands had diverted towards Wendy's luscious black mane, and we wondered if he sister would want to cut it again.

Her sister's had always been petite, yet her attitude and outfits made her seem larger than life itself, looking at her sister now, curled within the confinements of rather large and loose garments that seemed to swallow her whole frame, she looked quite small. Her skin was still paler than what it usually was, but it was not the ghastly pallor that she had donned upon her return to the land of the living, and Johanna's hands itched to lift her sister's hoodie so she could truly see the damage that lay underneath.

Johanna exhaled heavily, She’s breathing, she’s here. She’s alive.

Curling her entire body in a protective manner around the slumbering witch, the brunette closed her eyes and inhaled the scent from her sister's hair and closed her eyes, her exhausted mind taking a moment to turn blank and allow her to follow her sister into a much-deserved rest. Little did she know, her sister's sleep was bound to be troubled as her recent exploits would trigger certain memories that were best left forgotten.

As night befell upon East End, the Beauchamp household was eerily quiet after the day's turmoil. Wendy's curled body jolted once, vivid images of her family snapping before her, then her father's cruel gaze in her boyfriend's eyes, Elena, her girls. The images––visions–– she had of Ingrid making an appearance once more, yet this time they were accompanied by the presence of another, a malicious being which whispered in her mind terrible horror.

You'll be mine, Wendy. We are not done yet, I will get everything you have.

The adrenaline she felt at the utterance was enough to roughly shake her awake, her body coiled, her eyes wild and shining. Joanna, who had been resting peacefully by her sister was awoken by the movement and as she took her sister's profile in the dark, she asked: "Hey, are you okay?"

Wendy took a deep breath which was accompanied by a slight wince, her pupils returned to their normal size and she flashed her sister a small smile, "Yeah, just going to the bathroom."

Joanna looked at her sister, slightly uncertain. She scrutinized her sister's body language, the tight pose, the tense limbs, panicked eyes darting around the room, "Do you need any help?"

"No, you might want to change into your pajamas, though," The younger woman said, seeing as her sister was still in her work clothes.

Wendy took that moment to dash to the bathroom, her mind plagued by her visions, the voice in her dreams. Had that been a dream conjured by her fears or was there thing else? Had they not been through enough? There was the matter of Ingrid, Elena, then there was Frederick, who had killed him and why? She may not entirely trust Frederick, but she would not betray her family. 

Yeah, right. I killed my father, so much for not betraying family, huh? 

But another voice so similar to her own invaded her mind, He was not your father, that was someone consumed by greed and power. 

The black-haired witch continued her stroll towards the bathroom, once there, she closed the door and turned the faucet of the sink, allowing cold water to flow into her hands. She splashed some water onto her face to sober up from her state. Her left hand reached for the towel to pat her face dry and her gaze landed on her reflection and what stared back scared her. Her skin was paler than it had ever been, her eyes looked wild and were no longer their stormy color but a greenish hue with some yellowish tint towards the pupils which resembled slits, like that of a cat's. Her long tresses shadowed her face making it look even more somber. Yet, when she blinked, her eyes were their natural color, her pupils small and rounded.

Did I just imagine that?

As the towel obscured her view of the mirror, she dried her skin with gentle pats. Upon looking at the mirror once more, her eyes remained the same, they were normal. Her long fingers went through her hair, untangling any spots of resistance as she went, I really have to cut my hair...

After exiting the restroom, she traveled to her own bedroom in search of her phone which had been left charging on her bedside table. Her light footsteps barely making any noise as she traversed through the hallway towards her own room, her hand reached out to slowly open the door so as to avoid waking her nieces up. When her eyes landed on her bed, a smile was etched onto her face when seeing her two nieces curled up together in her bed, as it always should have been.

Her body moved toward the bedside table on the right side of the bed and she unplugged her phone, the moment was irresistible and so she captured a photo of her girls that she would show Joanna later. A frown marred her face upon seeing what times it was, the clock on her phone read 3:33 AM. The moment of peak activity, that could be no coincidence, right? There had to be a connection between her tormented slumber and the time.

She had to talk to Joanna. Her trip was slightly more hurried and forceful as she ventured to her sister's room, but Joanna was in her sleepwear, asleep. Wendy resolved to talk to her sister in the morning when they awoke once more, she had to tell her about the visions, her dreams, Ingrid, Elena, Frederick. How she wished everything was back to normal again. As she laid her body next to that of her sister, she closed her eyes and relaxed. She vowed to talk to Joanna tomorrow. She would figure out how to save the pieces of her family trapped in another realm.

Chapter Text

Wendy grabbed a firm hold of her phone and opened her text thread, looking for her boyfriend’s name. She clicked on their conversation and started typing.

‘miss u.’

The reply was almost instant.

‘I miss you too! How are you feeling? Are you ok?’’

The witch chuckled at her lover, so predictable. She wasted no time in replying.

‘im ok, promise. rescue me from prison 2morra?’

‘Call me when you’re awake and I’ll see what I can do, m’lady!’

’hold u to that, handsome! going 2 bed, tty 2morra ’

The witch didn’t wait for an answer, she dropped her phone on Joanna’s nightstand and went to sleep, cuddling up to her sister. She breathed in deeply through her nose, and closed her eyes, inhaling her sister’s scent.

Digging deep within her, she found her kitty, Please be on alert tonight, she asked. Kitty flared her magic to let her know she would stand guard. The woman could not be happier than even after relieving herself of the curse, Kitty remained. It would have killed her not to have her.

Breathing in deeply, the witch tried to clear her mind in order to sleep, as her nose caught her sister’s send, her body started shaking uncontrollably with a vision she could not stop.

Frederick, laying on the floor of a house. A knife embedded in his stomach; his blue eyes were unmoving, lifeless. A figure moving away from the scene, heels walking by the corpse.

A message left by the side of his head: DEATH TO WITCHES.

Wendy gasped, her body being violently shaken, eyes flying open. She tried to suck in as much air as she could in violent shudders.

“Wendy!” She could faintly hear someone calling her name, but with her ears ringing, all sounds were muffled.

Eventually, the ringing ceased, and she felt something warm dripping from her face. The reason for the shaking was Joanna, holding onto both her wrists with a death grip. With her breath calming down, she focused on her sister, her face creased with worry, her eyes big, her mouth moving.

Joanna had been sleeping peacefully on her bed when the person next to her starting having a seizure. Wendy was not responding to her name, her clawed hands digging its nails onto the palms, so Joanna had grabbed her so as to avoid any damage her sister might involuntarily cause to herself. Her bedding soiled by her sister’s bleeding nose. She knew immediately this was not a nightmare, but a vision –– she knew she had to let her sister ride it out.

The black-haired woman finally spoke, turning her palms so she could hold onto her sister’s forearm, “We have a big problem!”

Joanna helped her sister sit up on the bed, holding tightly onto her hands, “What happened? What did you see?” She asked.

Wendy scooted backwards so her spine was pressed tightly onto the headboard of the bed, her arms clutching at her ribs as her agitation disturbed her tender chest.

“I had a vision and there is a goddamn witch hunter in East End. A– A woman! She killed Frederick and might be coming after the girls, Jo! We need to prepare; we need to do something now I can’t lose anyone–”

Her rambling was cut off by her sister shushing her, telling her to take deep breaths as her hands glowed with a golden light, Wendy registered that her aches lessened. As Wendy calmed down and made eye contact with her sister, Joanna could not help but notice how different her eyes were. Instead of their normal blue-gray, her pupils were widened slits, a strange glowing ringlet of yellow around them.

“Okay, alright, well –– we’ll look into it tomorrow,” the older sister said as she stretched her arms to the bedside table in order to grab a tissue. Wendy’s mouth opened and closed, being unable to say anything, why was Joanna not taking this seriously? A witch hunter was terrible news, it complicated everything!

“I don’t think that figuring this out when we’re tired and worked up is going to bring us any solutions,” she said, holding the tissue against her sister’s nose, trying to clean the blood pooling over her lips.

Wendy exhaled heavily, her own hand coming up to cover her sister’s.

“We just can’t sit here and do nothing, Jo! We broke the curse, the girls died once already and I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to them, or you, or Tommy, again,” she insisted, breathing in deeply. Her instinct was telling her that something was wrong, something was going to happen and it was going to happen fast.

Her Kitty was on edge, she also knew that they could not let their guard down.

Joanna smiled lopsidedly, warmed by her sister’s vehemence for their safety. They would not lose anyone as long as they were together, “We are alright for now, Kitten. It’s okay for us to take a moment to collect ourselves. Hm?”

Wendy nodded, looking deeply into her sister’s soul, and Joanna was glad to notice that her eyes were back to normal ––she still made a mental note to talk to her sister about it later, there was a lot on her plate at the moment––, “Yeah, maybe we can wait ‘til tomorrow.”

The brunette nodded, “Do you think you can sleep?” She asked, her hands coming up to rub up and down her sister’s arms, and frowned when she noticed how cold her sister was.

The youngest of the two shook her head, her long hair cascading wildly around her, “Nah, I’m goin’ downstairs,” and suddenly she got up from the bed, groaning at her forceful movements, reaching out with her hands for stability.

Joanna stood up with her sister, looking at her tenderly, “What do you say we go down together, drink something, maybe give you a haircut?” She said, holding a ringlet of inky hair in her hand.

Wendy finally smiled and nodded at her sister, happy to share a simple family moment with her. Glad they were united. When the incident with Ingrid and Archibald happened, Wendy’s entire world crumbled. She understood that while Joanna lost her daughter, Wendy had lost everything.

Together, the sisters walked hand in hand downstairs, Jonna lit the fireplace as Wendy collected two glasses from the kitchen. As she walked into the room her sister was in, she stopped short at the markings on the floor. She could faintly see the markings the dust had left on the floor, in the shape of a circle. She quickly crossed the room, her eyes wandering around, trying to identify what else had been left over from that night.

Her sister had walked the few steps between them, cutting her line of sight and taking the two glasses from her hand, offering a knitted blanked instead. Wendy took the blanket and put it over her shoulders as she sank in front of the fireplace.

Joanna disappeared momentarily, and when she returned, she had a bottle of whiskey and hair shears in hand. Silently, the sisters drank together while Joanna cut the long tresses into their previous length. She admired the texture of Wendy’s soft hair, “Would you like me to braid it?”

Wendy’s quiet laughter sounded throughout the room, “Like when we were little girls?”

Joanna’s laughter joined hers, and so, they spend a few quiet hours together, comforting each other with their presence. The brunette scooted backwards until she was leaning against the sofa, bringing her sister to rest against her shoulder, “You should rest. I’ve got you.”

Wendy did not answer, but wrapped her blanket around her sister. Closing her eyes, trusting the other woman to hold down the fort.

Fair Haven Mansion

A figure was in the attic of the Mansion, standing in front of a shelve filled with ancient books. After meeting his brother in prison, Dash had managed to switch bodies with Killian.

His plan was in motion. He would not waste the opportunity to be with Freya. She was his, they belonged together, and he would not let his brother ruin that.

The death and resurrection of Freya’s aunt had complicated his plans. She would not be willing to be away from her family, he had to think. If he somehow managed to steal all of their powers, there would be nothing standing in the way between him and his soulmate.

His mother might have hidden this part of his life, but without her around, he had access to all her books. Spells, potions, history. He would not let this opportunity pass.

Dash understood that the biggest threat to their love were Joanna and her sister. Though the matriarch of the family didn’t suspect him, he knew it would not take long for her sister to do so, she was much more intuitive –– and if she could wield the power they said she had, he was in trouble. He had to figure out how to get her out of the picture first, the rest would follow soon after, and no one would stand between him and Freya.

They were destined to be together.

Dash smirked with Killian’s features at the thought of his thief of a brother being in jail, paying for everything he had stolen from him.

The man turned to the library once more, grabbing a heavy tome from the shelf and flipping through its pages and firmly shut it. He walked around the room until he reached the desk he had out in there, his notepad already open. He sat down, opened the book again, and grabbed his pen –– his mother had been a very smart woman, and if she had been unable to stop the witches, he would have to study, to learn, he needed to be the best.

And so, he started his reading.

He would not fail where so many others before him had.

He would have Freya.

He would have everything.