Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You came back home with shopping bags in your hands, when you noticed that the door was already open, but your dogs weren’t making any noise, which meant that no one had entered, so you figured you had probably just forgotten to lock it before leaving.
When you walked in, you were met with Miranda, your old acquaintance and ex-wife.
In the corner of the room, sitting on the couch, were three young people who looked to be at least 25 years old, and in your favorite armchair, you saw a bearded man wearing glasses, all covered in grease.
In another armchair was a tall woman with black hair and pale skin.

"Miranda, could you ask your friend to get out of my armchair? He’s all dirty!"

"You haven’t changed, have you, Y/N?"

"I haven’t, and I imagine you haven’t either, Miranda Artois."

Heisenberg and Alcina exchanged curious glances.

"No one has called me that in centuries. I abandoned that last name when those people betrayed me."

"But it’s who you are. It’s who you’ll always be. People never change, Miranda. You may want to leave that person behind, but it’s who you are. It’s who you were born to be."

"I’ve changed. I’m no longer that Miranda who just wanted to bring her daughter back from the dead. I followed your advice after years, and I’m finally going to let my little girl rest in peace."

"It was about time, wasn’t it?" you said as you went to the kitchen to put the groceries away and got startled when you saw a veiled woman sitting at the dining table, knitting while using your best threads.
"And who are all these people in my house?"
Miranda let out a giggle, finding your tone amusing.

"Well, they’re my family."

"What kind of story is that? You never had anyone you liked even remotely, and now you’re talking about family?"

"That’s not true. I always liked you. I loved you and still do."

"And even so, that didn’t stop you from leaving."

"I made a mistake and I know it. If I had stayed with you, I would’ve been very happy. But if I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have met these people, who I’ve grown to like over time."

A doll jumped out from under the table and started chattering.
"This house needs to be cleaned soon. There’s dust all over under the table."

"Great, now I also have a possessed doll in my house," you rolled your eyes and spoke to the doll. "Don’t touch my stuff, got it?"
You turned to the blonde standing in front of you.
"Be specific, Miranda. Why did you decide to show up now?"

The doll interrupted the conversation, shouting,
"Hold on! This is the first time someone isn’t scared seeing me talk. Are you crazy or what?"
The doll looked at you suspiciously.

"It’s not the first time I’ve seen a doll talk. That’s actually a basic witchcraft trick."

"What?! You’re a witch? I want to fly on a broom! Can I, Donna?!"
The doll turned to the woman in black, who just told her to behave and whispered an apology.

"Apology accepted." You smiled at the veiled lady and then spoke to the doll again.
"Yes, I’m a witch. And Miranda is too."
From the living room, you could hear the man whisper,
"Told you, Alcina. She’s a witch. You owe me ten thousand Lei."

"Can we talk somewhere private?" Miranda asked, and you motioned for her to follow, locking the door to what was apparently your bedroom.
Miranda looked around and noticed a few decorations in the room, then started speaking as she picked up some colorful dolls on top of the computer.

"You’re doing well. Last time I saw you, you lived in a much smaller house."

"Get to the point and don’t stall."

"A few months ago, I heard about a man named Ethan Winters who survived after fighting one of my experiments. He had a daughter who was the perfect vessel for Eva, and I infiltrated his house and took the baby. But he went to the village where my family and I lived, and soon enough he proved to be a very determined man. He killed monsters that normal humans never could.
So I asked Donna, the woman in black in the kitchen, to make some hallucinations. Everything he experienced was just an illusion. He thought he killed us, but we just hid. And now we need a place to stay until it’s safe to return."

"And I guess that place is here?"

"If you allow it, yes. The house is big and my daughters are well-behaved. I can’t guarantee that my son Heisenberg is, but he could try… I think."

"Why here? Why, out of all places, here?"
You asked, sitting on the bed, looking a little tired.

"Because you’re the only person I trust blindly, my love."
Miranda sat next to you and held your face in her hands.

"Don’t call me that… You don’t have that right anymore. But I’ll help, for them, not for you."

"Liar. You don’t even know them. You know full well it’s for me. You’d never let your Miri sleep out in the open, would you?"
Miranda teased, and you rolled your eyes.

"We both know you have enough money to go to a hotel or buy a house, maybe even an island if you want to hide. And that tall woman looks rich too."

"Yeah, true… But I wanted to be close to you."
She tried to kiss you, but you turned away.
"You can stay here, but not with me."

Miranda was going to try to win you back. She made a mistake when she left you after Eva’s death, and she had always known that.
But now, she wanted to make it right.

Chapter Text

After everyone had settled into their rooms, you found yourself having to deal with Angie, the doll, who kept bombarding you with questions about witchcraft.
You suffered from insomnia, and since the doll didn’t sleep either, it was actually nice to have someone to talk to during the night.

"I still want to fly on a broom," the doll said, laughing almost desperately.
"Impossible. I’ll only do that with Lady Beneviento’s permission."
"Why are you such a killjoy, Y/N?"
"I’m not a killjoy. I’m just careful. That’s different."

After a few minutes of small talk, Angie resumed her endless stream of questions.

"And what about Miranda? Is she really a witch? I bet she’s some nasty old hag who uses sorcery to stay young!" You burst out laughing, and Angie joined in: "I knew it, didn’t I? She’s an old crone who steals people’s souls to keep herself young!"
"Well… you’re not entirely wrong. There is a way to remain young forever. It’s pretty cruel if you think about it. But survival is instinct, after all, and we do what we must."

The kettle on the stove whistled sharply, and you went to take it off the heat. Angie flew right after you.

"But only the older witches do that. Can you even drink tea?"
"No, I’m still a doll, you idiot."
"Hey, don’t be rude!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. But when exactly is a witch considered old?"
"At like… three thousand years? I don’t know, I’m terrible with numbers."

Just then Miranda walked into the kitchen and slipped an arm around your waist. You slapped her hand away.

"A witch is considered old after two thousand years," the blonde explained to Angie.
"Are you old, birdbrain?" Before Miranda could reply, you laughed. "Miranda? She’s well past old."

You and Angie laughed together while the older woman narrowed her eyes at you both.
"Are you finished?" she asked, her voice sharp.
"Sorry, it’s just funny how sensitive you get about your age."

You kept laughing, and the priestess was about to leave, but you caught her hand to stop her.

"It was a joke, Miri…" You held her gaze for a moment until Angie broke the tension.
"Why don’t you two just get a room already?"
"Not a bad idea," Miranda said with a sly smile.
"Don’t even start," you warned, giving her a cold look.

Suddenly, Angie started talking to herself:

"What? But why? I was here first! We were talking about witchcraft and then this birdbrain showed up to ruin everything!"

The doll zipped off through the house, muttering as she went:
"I can never do anything…"
"All I wanted was to talk about witchcraft…"

When Angie’s voice finally faded, Miranda stepped closer with a sly smile.

"At last, just the two of us."
"Don’t even try. You know perfectly well I’m still angry with you."

The blonde slid her hand back to your waist and whispered in your ear:
"Not for long."

Your legs trembled, and part of you wanted to give in but you wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until she gave you a real apology. So you changed the subject.

"Is Angie schizophrenic?"

This time, it was Miranda’s turn to laugh.
"No, she isn’t. Donna must have called her."
"How, if she never even came here?"
"Through the mind."
"Through the mind?!"
"Yes," Miranda said, as if it were obvious. You gave up trying to make sense of it.

"I made tea. Do you want some?" you offered, holding out your cup.
"I’d love some. Maybe a goodnight kiss to go with it?"

Had she always been this close before? Or had you simply been too absorbed in her to notice?

You pulled back, and the air turned tense at least for you.
"It’s late. I should try to sleep."
"Don’t you want me to come with you?"

She was relentless and deep down, you were grateful for it.

"No." That was all you said, heading off to your room.

Lying in bed with a silly smile on your face, you caught yourself thinking about her: how close she had been, the feel of her hands on your waist, how long it had been since you last kissed her. You had already forgiven her you just hadn’t realized it yet.

"And I didn’t even drink my tea." You turned onto your side and hugged your pillow. Tomorrow would be another day.