Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cornelia opened her eyes. She blinked. In front of her was her own reflection. Her reflection scowled at her. Huh?

Oh, right. She wasn’t Cornelia. She was an Astral Drop. It’d been a while.

“Good, you’re ready,” Real Cornelia said, dashing about her room. Real Cornelia’s room. She grabbed a backpack off the floor and shoved some clothes into it. Astral Cornelia caught sight of her actual reflection in the mirror, squinting through the late morning light. Headband, nice blouse with layered sleeves, long mauve skirt and a belt. Not a bad choice. Real Cornelia walked into frame, creating a four-fold reflection, like being in a funfair mirror maze.

“What are you waiting for? You need to clean this place up for tonight!” Real Cornelia hissed, and snapped her fingers in front of her face.

Is that what she’s meant to be doing? A little embarrassed, Astral Cornelia gave herself a quick shake and cleaned a few stray bottles of eyeliner and lip gloss back into her vanity drawer. She tried to focus on her memories – Real Cornelia’s memories - shoving clothes into her dresser on autopilot. It’s a challenge. Coming into existence used to be so seamless - a perfect copy of her real self that knew exactly where she was and where she needed to be. Nowadays it felt like the more she was created, the slower the memories were to click into place. Like one of those pictures in her biology books that was a photocopy of a photocopy, over and over, until it was so faded and blurry you could barely tell what it was, no matter how much the teacher insisted it was a diagram of diffusion across a cell membrane.

The idea of letting Real Cornelia know she felt like this… forget being absorbed, it made her want to sink into the ground and disappear completely. Astral Cornelia existed for one reason – to replace Real Cornelia perfectly – and she wasn’t about to fail.

Right, right. Today is… Saturday. No homework left, she finished it earlier. No plans for today except… Oh! The sleepover! The girls had organized a sleepover tonight at her place. Cornelia’s place. They hadn’t been able to arrange one for ages.

Astral Cornelia’s hands slowed. Wait, why was she here again? Real Cornelia wouldn’t create her just to help her clean up her room, would she? She wasn’t Irma. Or Will, admittedly. Or Hay Lin, in all honesty.

“Right, I shouldn’t be too long-” Real Cornelia paused suddenly, staring into the distance as if hearing something. She tilted her head, mouthing her reply. Something like ‘On my way?’. Oh, she was probably talking to Taranee. They must have some sort of Guardian mission Astral Cornelia couldn’t remember the details of. Astral Cornelia couldn’t hear the telepathy, because Taranee could only talk like that to the five Guardian girls. People who were important, and not just their copies.

Something stung in her chest. It would have been nice to hear Taranee’s voice. Not that she’d ever really met Real Taranee outside of a brief goodbye, but Astral Taranee was pretty great.

Did she really mouth her replies like that without noticing? That’s sort of embarrassing, but admittedly a little funny. She hoped Real Cornelia wouldn’t catch that she got Astral Cornelia’s memories back.

Real Cornelia raised an eyebrow at her. “What are you smirking about? Whatever, I have to go. Remember, if I’m not back by tonight the girls have a sleepover at my place, so make sure you’re all here. Until then just,” Real Cornelia gestured vaguely and impatiently, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Got it?”

Astral Cornelia rolled her eyes. My place. Was she always so bossy? Real Cornelia should know she had it handled. They were the same person, after all. “I’m you. You don’t have to tell me twice. Go have fun saving the world, Blondie,” she said, just to annoy her.

With an unimpressed look, Real Cornelia poked her head through the bedroom door to check if her parents – Cornelia’s parents – were around, then raced out the front door.

Then Astral Cornelia was alone. A whole day ahead of her. With no instructions.

It wasn’t often that she was left with free time. She smoothed her hair down. And again. Picked some clothes up off the floor and put them away. Picked up her hairbrush. Put it down. Napoleon nosed his way through her door and narrowed his eyes at her, then turned around and left, tail swishing unhappily.

Come on! This is stupid. She wasn’t some lost, empty girl – she was Astral Cornelia, a perfect copy of Real Cornelia, and she didn’t need someone to tell her what to do. She should know this.

What would Cornelia do?

...What are the girls up to?

---

Astral Will is busy. She’s still at swim practice, Real Will’s mom tells Astral Cornelia – apparently she ‘hasn’t had much chance to be in the pool lately’ and wants to practise for the monthly time-trials. Cornelia knows that’s a lie for Real Will, but she understands; Having the experience in your memories isn’t the same as feeling it on your own skin. Real Cornelia had only just taken up ice skating again, so it hadn’t been an option for all of Astral Cornelia’s existence until now, and a part of her longs to stretch her legs on the rink.

It’s a little late in the day to go all the way across town though, and Real Cornelia gets frustrated when Astral Cornelia spends her money. Ice skating is fun and freeing and empowering, but now that Elyon is gone it’s also a very solo activity.

She picks the phone up and calls another friend.

Hay Lin- Astral Hay Lin is busy. She tells Cornelia, in a rapid conversation she snatched between orders, that she’s been conscripted in Real Hay Lin’s place into helping out at the Silver Dragon by her parents. That’s disappointing, but fair enough. Real Cornelia has had this exact conversation with Real Hay Lin before, so they’re doing an excellent impersonation. She could offer to help out, or keep her company, but Real Cornelia has never done that, so she doesn’t.

She picks up the phone and tries again.

Taranee is busy. She wants to get some time to read before this evening. Cornelia tries to not sound disappointed when Taranee tells her that they’d all spent last Saturday helping Cornelia shop her way around Bristoff Mall, which Cornelia remembers but- but some part of her wants to yell that that was Real Cornelia and Real Taranee, and wouldn’t it be nice to spend some time together as themselves? Cornelia smiles uncomfortably and ends the call. Perhaps to Taranee, there’s no difference between being Real or Astral.

Astral Cornelia tries not to think about that.

It’s not like Cornelia doesn’t know they’re all going to meet up this evening anyway, but so what if she wants to spend some more time with her friends? Astral Cornelia doesn’t get to exist every day!

She picks up the phone and hesitates. Only one option left, and Real Cornelia would object to it. Cornelia sighs in exasperation.

Real Cornelia has been avoiding Irma. It must have been at least a month since they last hung out together without a buffer of at least two other friends. Even when all of W.i.t.c.h is together, it’s like Real Cornelia spends a lot of time just staring at Irma when she isn’t looking, a gross mixture of anticipation and anxiety, even anger, flooding and overwhelming in her chest.

Astral Cornelia is certain she knows what this is about.

Real Cornelia is scared Irma is going to make fun of her for getting dumped by Caleb.

Astral Cornelia doesn’t know how to feel about Caleb. All these wonderful memories of dreams and pining and feeling real love, how it felt to kiss him deeply – but just memories. Astral Cornelia never personally met him. Considering he broke up with Cornelia the second he saw her as a human girl rather than a glamorous Guardian, that’s really for the best. She’s not any keener on him than Real Cornelia, even if she only has the memories of the heartbreak rather than the experience. Being dropped like a bad habit still weighed her heart down, still hurt, even after a couple months.

On the one hand, Irma hasn’t been particularly sensitive about Caleb in the past, so she understands the worry. On the other hand, Real Cornelia is being totally unfair. Shouldn’t she have learned after last time? If anything, avoiding Irma was more likely to make her play up for attention.

It’s not fair that she’s supposed to avoid hanging out with a friend because Real Cornelia is being unreasonable. It’s been forever and she misses Irma, even if she can be annoying. It’s not like Real Cornelia ever told her to stay away. Besides, if nothing goes wrong then she can prove Cornelia’s fears wrong and help her stop feeling too nervous to hang out with Irma, which is pretty embarrassing of her. It’s a win-win.

Irma is free, so they agree to meet up at Golden.

---

“You started eating before I even got here? Do you understand the point of meeting at a diner?” Cornelia said, sliding into the sticky vinyl booth across from Irma and her tray of food. It was a little before the midday rush, so Golden was just beginning to fill up with customers. Families and gaggles of friends are greeting each other at the door and filling in in groups, but Irma had managed to claim their regular booth near the front regardless. She had her hair up in that cute double bun style, held in place with little blue flower clips that matched her necklace and her long-sleeved pink shirt, so she looked pleasingly presentable. Cornelia didn’t mind being friends with people who had a… lacking fashion sense – she was still close with Will, after all – but Irma In particular actually looked nice when she made an effort. Even if the effect was ruined by the smears of ketchup on her cheeks.

“You took too long,” Irma replied unapologetically, handing her a laminated menu, “I had to save us a seat. Besides, you’ve been avoiding me so much I wasn’t sure if you were gonna turn up.”

Astral Cornelia cringed. Real Cornelia was never as good at being subtle as she thought she was. Weakly, she tried to cover for her. “Sorry. I’ve just been busy lately.”

Irma gave an unimpressed little hum. "Whatever, I don't miss you when you're gone,” she said teasingly - still, ouch - then slid a half-eaten basket of fries to the middle of the table. Cornelia took one, smart enough to recognize a peace offering, and scanned the menu.

Not that she needed to. W.i.t.c.h. comes to Golden constantly, when they’re not sneaking free food from the kitchen of the Silver Dragon. The place fulfills all of their criteria: It’s cheap, popular, and the portions are huge.

Cornelia – Real Cornelia – always ordered fries and a chocolate milkshake, and allowed herself a snack wrap at lunch. That’s what Astral Cornelia had always stuck to before, when she came here with the rest of the girls. Cornelia gets a generous allowance, and it wasn’t like she had to watch her diet that much – running around fighting lizard people or evil witches or whatever else was good for cardio, so Real Cornelia was probably working them both up a calorie deficit right now – but it just felt… Gross? Schlubby. Not like Cornelia.

But Irma’s burger smelt so good right now. “Hey,” she said. Irma looked up at her around a mouthful. “Are you going to finish that?”

“You are phabsolutely-” Irma started, and almost choked. She swallowed, offended. “Absolutely not getting any! I bought this burger with my money-”

“Irma’s money-”

“Irma’s money is my money. I already gave you my fries, get your own damn burger.”

Cornelia bit her lip. “I don’t... Real Cornelia doesn’t buy burgers.”

“‘Real’ Cornelia?” Irma replied, clearly amused. Did she think that was weird? She pointed at Cornelia with a French fry. “Okay, well, who gives a shit what she wants? We’re all going to be absorbed at the end of the day, stop caring about her diet or whatever.” She stuffed the rest of her burger in her mouth, glaring at Cornelia like she might try and stop her.

The reminder of their impending end sent an uncomfortable feeling straight through her core. Which was stupid. She shouldn’t feel that way, because it’s what she’s supposed to do. It should just be like becoming whole again, right? “I give a shit Irma, I’m Cornelia. I want what she wants.” She crossed her arms. “Somehow I’m not surprised that a copy of Irma just does whatever the hell she wants.”

To her surprise Irma looked seriously peeved, thick eyebrows scrunching together. “’Real-Deal’ Irma does whatever she wants. I don’t get to do what I want because she makes me do stupid crap like clean her room or do her algebra homework. Pretty sure I’m actually the smarter Irma now, but if I let her know that she’ll start making me take her tests or something.” She sighed, and wiped her hands on her skirt. “I’ve gotta fit in all of that report Mr Collins wants on the Mongols this afternoon. Eugh.”

That was… unexpected, from Irma.

Something about it felt- wrong, somehow. For any version of Irma to be so unlike herself. Irma didn’t compromize herself for anyone - that’s why she and Cornelia got into so many fights. Most of the time it was an annoying quality, but its absence - this obedience-

“So why do you bother doing all those things? Do Real Irma’s homework for her I mean.” Irma looked confused, and Cornelia swallowed uncomfortably. “We’re all going to be absorbed at the end of the day, right?”

Irma took a slow slurp of her milkshake, fiddling with the straw between her lips.

“It’s what we’re meant to do, right? Be a perfect version of them. It’s why we exist,” she said quietly, not meeting Cornelia’s eyes.

A dark cloud fell over the table.

She wasn’t wrong. That’s what they were made for. There shouldn’t be any hard feelings about it. Cornelia didn’t have any hard feelings about it. It’s the same reason Astral Cornelia didn’t spend Real Cornelia’s money on shopping sprees, why she had never gone ice skating before, why she ate dinner with Real Cornelia’s parents and played games with Real Cornelia’s little sister.

Why she ordered the same damn thing Real Cornelia did at the same damn diner she always ate at.

But something about seeing Irma look so defeated – even a copy of Irma, even one as temporary as Astral Cornelia was – made Cornelia feel like maybe this situation was a little... bad. Unfair. She loved Irma, despite everything, even if the only difference between the ungrateful real version getting off scot-free and the magical copy just having to put up and deal was a matter of circumstance. Cornelia may have found her attitude annoying, and she would like Irma to be a bit more responsible, but-

Who was Real Irma to make Irma feel this way?

It made Cornelia want to do something. Say something. Prove her wrong. Put a smile back on Irma’s face. She wished Hay Lin was here. She would be better at this.

“You ready to order dear, or do you just want to stare at that menu all day?” came a southern drawl from behind her. Cornelia jerked up, broken out of her thoughts by W.i.t.c.h.’s favorite waitress, Dottie.

Thinking about it? Cornelia had a brilliant idea. Something that would always make Irma happy and prove her wrong.

“Sorry, Dottie. I’ll have a double cheeseburger, super-size fries and a strawberry milkshake. Two, actually,” she said, and saw Irma shoot her a curious glance. Well, Cornelia could indulge this a little more. For both of them. “And a slice of apple pie, please.”

Dottie jotted that down with a smirk. “You orderin’ for yourself or for Irma? Special occasion dear?”

Cornelia gave her a sweet smile. “Just feeling like today is a special day. Thank you Dottie!”

As Dottie bustled away, Irma leant in close over the table, a small pleased smile overtaking her face and one brow cocked suspiciously. “Two milkshakes? That’s a lot of food for one person, Corny.”

Rolling her eyes, Cornelia leaned back against the sticky booth with affected casualness. “What can I say? I’m the generous sort. We can share the fries again, since you were so kind earlier.”

“And the apple pie?” Irma said excitedly, wiggling in her seat a little and making Cornelia feel extremely pleased with herself. Making Irma happy was so easy. Honestly, what would she do without Cornelia?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. That pie is all mine,” Cornelia teased, but from the look on her face Irma didn’t believe her for a second. She fake-inspected her nails. “But if I happen to have some left over, I suppose you can finish it. Aren’t you lucky?” she teased.

Irma grinned, leaning closer over the table. “Ohhhhhh, I could kiss you right now. I owe you one Corny, anything you want, you’ve got it.”

“Well, I do have some algebra homework that needs doing…”

“Anything but that,” she said without missing a beat, and Cornelia laughed.

“I don’t think you’re really earning that pie.”

Irma pouted as if she was put out, and played with the end of her straw again. “Well, I think I earned it a little bit. You took my advice didn’t you, burger queen?”

“Never call me that again.” Cornelia complained. Irma just snickered. She smiled coyly as Dottie returned with her food, thanking her before resting her chin on her palm. “I don’t know about you, but I’m able to make my own choices. You should take your own advice, you know. Forget homework. Hang out with me today.”

Irma giggled, loud and unabashed in that way she sometimes does, where her whole body shakes with it and her face goes red. “Never thought I’d hear you suggest that I should blow off homework. You really aren’t ‘Plain Old’ Cornelia, huh?”

She started pulling Cornelia’s pie toward her side of the table, with absolutely no subtlety. Cornelia shot her a look. She pushed it back guiltily. Rolling her eyes, Cornelia pushed the fries over and took a bite of her burger. Her first burger ever, really, outside of childhood memories. It’s even better than she expected. “You know what, Real Cornelia is missing out. I’ve been missing out, following her lead.”

“And taking my advice?”

Cornelia tilted her head, conceding a little. “Not the worst thing in the world. Congratulations.”

Irma preened like she’d just been told she won an Oscar. Or knowing Irma, a VMA. God, she was so easy to please.

“Well, speaking of listening to me, is there anything else that you want to try that ‘Basic Bitch’ Cornelia wouldn’t want to do? Because I have some suggestions.”

---

Trying new things with Irma was both boring and eventful. Irma dragged her to some CD store called Janas that Cornelia has never been to before, and lousy complained that Cornelia didn’t know anything about modern music – which Cornelia objected to, because it isn’t her fault! She doesn’t own a CD player, her dad keeps the radio firmly on the classical stations and her mom banned MTV from the sanctity of their living room as soon as she got a whiff of it.

Irma ignored her protestations and shoved a pair of headphones on her ears, then handed her some sort of disc player. “Listen to this and absorb some culture, Blondie,” she told her, before wandering off to buy the latest Karmilla single and track down an old Springsteen single for her dad. Cornelia wrinkled her nose and skipped past a lot of Alanis Morissette’s whiny rock songs and age-inappropriate hip-hop from artists she didn’t recognize – she tried not to wonder how Irma obtained those – before settling on some Latin songs by Marc Anthony. Irma snickered at the choice, but she tracked down a copy of his album among the shelves and egged Cornelia on until she bought it for herself.

It was nice weather for early Autumn, so they bought ice cream and listened to a few more songs in the park. Cornelia tried pistachio flavor for the first time, and after a few tentative licks realized she hated it. Irma let her swap it with her chocolate scoop, but not before a protracted pointless squabble about who has the superior taste in desserts.

They went to Irma’s house, and Cornelia needed to head home to prepare for the sleepover,  but instead she got roped into lounging around on the couch watching TV. Cornelia only really watched TV when she was sick, or supervising her little sister, but she still immediately vetoed some awful reality show Irma put on, and Irma rejected her suggestion of Friends because it “went downhill three seasons ago’’. They eventually ‘compromized’ - disputable - on a re-run of Law & Order, because they both agreed it sucked. Cornelia groaned every time they said some lame dramatic line, and Irma provided a running commentary heckling all the inaccuracies in the police investigation. It was nice. Cornelia laughed especially hard when Irma’s little brother poked his head into the room and added, in his squeaky pre-pubescent voice, “Are they messing up the stupid evidence collection again? The forensics must hate these guys.”

When it’s time to go, Cornelia still feels like lingering on the doorstep. She’s going to see Irma again - see everyone again - in only a few hours, but today’s been fun, and Irma hadn’t brought up the Caleb thing once. Irma caught her eye and winked. “See you later. I’ve got one more idea for tonight that I know ‘Regular Coke’ Cornelia hasn’t tried. It’ll be a surprise though,” she said.

Cornelia raised an eyebrow. “My mom is going to be there, so I hope your idea doesn’t involve any spinning bottles,” she said, and fought a pleased smile when Irma guffawed.

---

Crammed on the sleek modern sofa in Cornelia’s living room with the rest of the girls, on the 20^th and final turn of a game of Mario Party, Cornelia had a life-changing decision to make.

Irma had brought the console over in a small bag, looking so eager that Cornelia had only teased how lame her choice was a little bit. Cornelia had picked up the strategy of the game quickly despite a few struggles with the control scheme for her pink princess character (Irma had insisted on the choice), and was in a narrow second place. Hay Lin and Taranee’s green dinosaur – Yoshi, Hay Lin kept yelling – had the same number of Stars as her, but was far behind in coins. Being the other video game newbie and facing the 4-player limit, Taranee had offered to just sit out and watch – but Hay Lin wouldn’t hear it, and ‘as the second most experienced player’ had drawn her into an unorthodox two-player alliance, squeezed on top of each other on the end of the couch, where Taranee decided the map movement then passed the controller to Hay Lin to play all the mini-games.

To their credit, they were both beating Will, whose limited experience with the game was no match for a string of truly awful dice rolls. She’d migrated to sitting criss-cross on the floor, back pressed against Cornelia’s leg and hanging her head in despair whenever Mario rolled another 3.

The ‘most experienced player’ on the other hand was showing absolutely no mercy – Irma was leading the game by two entire Stars, trouncing most of the mini-games with her annoying yellow character. It made Cornelia roll her eyes, but her competitiveness and the way she excitedly bounced the whole sofa was at least sort of endearing. More importantly, the way she got mad and pouted whenever ‘complete newbie’ Cornelia beat her at a mini-game was extremely gratifying.

Cornelia had never played a video game before. It was lame. It was fun. She understood why the Real Cornelia didn’t want to try it, but she had no regrets about the last two hours besides the cramp in her hands.

She narrowed her eyes at the screen. An eight gave her two options – the right path would take her to one last Star, locking her into at least a second place finish. According to Irma there were even bonus stars at the end, so with her higher coin count she may even be able to snatch up the win at the last second. The idea of beating Irma at something she excelled at was incredibly enticing. But, and it was a big but, Irma knew this game a lot better than she did. Irma could be pretty sharp, but only ever put her brain toward two things: getting out of trouble, and competitive board games. Cornelia had lost enough games of Clue to not underestimate her.

She shot a look at Irma, squished between herself and the couch arm. Irma leaned back lazily and smirked at Cornelia. “What are you waiting for Corny? Want to see who wins on Bonus Stars?” she taunted.

Screw it. Today was a special day.

Cornelia raised her eyebrows, smiled sweetly at Irma, and directed the princess down the left path. Directly toward--

“Wait, what are you-”

“Isn’t that the wrong way?”

“She’s going to land on-”

“Wait, is that Chance Time!” Hay Lin gasped in utter delight, clapping her hands excitedly.

Irma shot back up, staring at the screen in disbelief as the screen transitioned to a stage, jaw on the floor. “Blondie, are you crazy? On the last turn?”

Taranee and Will stared at Cornelia, amused and confused respectively. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d go for it. This game really does make people crazy,” Taranee said. They all knew the power of the Chance Time space, having seen it completely bankrupt Will's poor Mario on turn 4 as she was forced to turn over all her coins to Hay Lin and Taranee. Will hadn’t even been the one to land on it.

Hay Lin started up a chant of ‘Chance Time! Chance Time!’, pumping her fist with each word.

Cornelia turned her focus back to the screen and the spinning blocks. They followed a repeating pattern, and seemed slow enough to time if she paid attention…

Irma leaned in, talking hot and close in her ear, “I swear to god if you land on-”

Boom, Irma’s character.

“Corny- Cornelia, I will kill you, I will kill you dead-”

“Shut up,” Cornelia hissed, “My mom will turn this off if she thinks it’s violent.” Irma scowled, and started mouthing the death threats instead, complete with a throat slitting motion that Cornelia ignored.

Taranee reached behind Cornelia’s back to put a hand on Irma, shaking her. “Wait, you’ve still got a chance, the trade could go your way.”

Everyone held their breath and leaned in close as Cornelia positioned her character under the middle block, hunched over to focus on the CRT like some sort of gamer. Irma had her fingers crossed, muttering “Not stars, not stars,” under her breath like she was trying to pull off Real Irma’s magic mind trick on a video game.

She lined it up, took a deep breath, and focused on the spinning block. She just needed to- There!

The block stopped on Star swap.

“NOOOOOOoooooo!” Irma wailed, falling forward off the couch dramatically and landing in a defeated lump on the porcelain floor, narrowly avoiding squishing Will. Cornelia couldn’t help it – she cackled, loud and joyful. Hay Lin joined in, laughing so hard she was holding her stomach, while Taranee and Will absolutely failed to hold back giggles at their friend’s expense. Irma gave up and rolled on her side, reaching longingly for the screen. “You. Are. Absolutely. Terrible. You are the worst friend I’ve ever had. How could you do this to me,” she cried, outraged.

“It’s Chance Time Irma, that’s just the way the game goes sometimes.” Cornelia simpered, and hit her character into the last block without particularly caring who it landed on. A familiar red hat flashed on screen.

“WILL! You gave my victory to WILL!”

“Wait, I what?” Will perked up, watching Mario enter the screen. Stars flew out of Irma’s character into her own. Irma let out another cry of despair.

Wiping tears out of her eyes, a flushed Hay Lin grabbed Will’s shoulder and shook her. “You get all of Irma’s Stars! Oh my god, a come from behind victory! Will! Will! Will! Will!” she started chanting again. Taranee grabbed her other shoulder and joined in, as Will’s position shot from last to a completely undeserved first. Will leapt to her feet and fist pumped.

Irma kicked Cornelia’s foot, still languishing on the floor, breathing heavily with her shirt rolled up. Cornelia rolled her eyes and gently kicked her back. “Don’t be grumpy, dear. Maybe you’ll win on bonus Stars?” She taunted, and held out a hand. She was a little surprised when Irma let herself be pulled back up.

“I’ll be grumpy all I want,” she replied, although she didn’t sound too upset. She slumped messily next to Cornelia, whispering as the last mini-game loaded up redundantly, “I can’t believe you threw away your chances of winning just to make me lose.”

“Can’t you? We target each other all the time.”

Irma nudged her shoulder into Cornelia’s. “I don’t think ‘White Bread’ Cornelia would pass on a chance to come first. You just wanted to make me lose. After you were so nice to me today. Bitch.”

Irma’s character bounced on her princess’s head, sending her plummeting into the water as a bomb hit their platform. Whatever, Cornelia had already lost. That thought would have pissed off the Real Cornelia, but who cared about her right now? Astral Cornelia was still giddy from laughing, heart thumping with joy. As far as she was concerned, she was doing a better job with Cornelia’s life than Real Cornelia ever had.

“I feel like the other Irma would have been more mad about it. You have to admit, it was really funny,” she smiled, nudging Irma back. The timer on their game chirped ‘Finished!’

Irma hung her head, not even looking at the screen as the final results screen pulled up, smiling ruefully. “It really was. Guess now I know how it feels to deal with me.” She shot her a funny look, exasperated and oddly fond. “I’m glad you’re not her. I like this Cornelia a lot more.”

Oh. Cornelia felt herself flush, feeling warm in the core of her being. It felt- strange, for someone to notice, to like Astral Cornelia for the ways in which she was herself.

She looked around at the group. Will looked flustered and pleased as the results were announced, Mario making a celebratory gesture to the camera. Hay Lin continued to cheer her on while Taranee inspected the final results with pleased surprise – somehow the bonus stars had actually shot Yoshi to second place over the princess. Good for them.

At this moment? She felt more like herself than ever.

She snaked an arm around Irma’s shoulders, leaning against her in a floppy side hug. Irma wrapped an arm around her middle and squeezed her a little.

“You know what? Me too.”

Chapter Text

“You would think that the five Guardians Of The Infinite Dimensions, ass kicking babes with power over all the elements of Earth- would have something in their skill set that would let them open a fucking door.”

“Irma, language!”

“Sorry Mrs. Cook. I’ll take myself to the principal's office right away.” From somewhere behind her, Will groaned.

“Guys shut up I’ve nearly got this!” Hay Lin griped, crouched and trying to… Irma wasn’t sure. Blow air through the lock? 

Whatever it was, it wasn’t working. It was cold and dark on the 8th floor balcony to Cornelia’s room, the fire escape faintly creaking over the hum of the building’s HVAC, and Irma was exhausted. 

Guardian work had kept them busy in Metamoor with a full day’s mission fighting some sort of evil earth spirit, one painfully good at slipping away whenever Witch thought they’d finally pinned it down. Superpowerful Queen Elyon could have handled it, obviously, but she was too busy at some sort of interdimensional peace conference to spare the time, so Kandrakar had called in Witch as a favor. A favor which involved way too much being thrown into cliff faces and getting sand blasted into her eyes. Thank god the guardian forms were so durable, because Irma was sore.

But that wasn’t even the worst part! Oh no, the worst part was that Caleb had been there. Helping. He was annoying, he was distracting, and he was throwing off everyone’s game. 

Only Will had been able to summon up the civility to even talk to him. You would think a guy would know when he wasn’t wanted! 

And obviously, it was the worst for Cornelia. She had been super on edge from the moment they saw him, giving one word answers and missing her shots at the spirit and alternating between giving him long morose looks and refusing to look in his direction at all. Irma had tried to keep the mood up with a bit of banter, but even now Cornelia was barely acknowledging her. If anything, she’d gotten even quieter since they’d come back to Earth. 

Which was frustrating, but she wasn’t going to be distracted - this was Caleb’s fault. If a few stray jets of water had happened to fly in his direction in the heat of the battle, she had the right to remain silent until she spoke to her lawyer.

Now according to Will’s phone it was three in the damn morning, and Kandrakar hadn’t even had the decency to send them straight to Cornelia’s place. They’d been dumped under the flickering streetlights on the sidewalk outside. Useless pain in the ass cosmic bosses.

Irma stood over Hay Lin - to her irritation - and held a hand up to the cold glass window to peer into the room better.

Whoa. Well, This was for sure going to get a response from Cornelia. “Are we certain certain we can’t just bang on the glass a bit more? Pretty sure I can see my copy in Corny’s bed, and I’m a pretty light sleeper.” 

There was a short pause while everyone absorbed that statement. And a much longer pause while they waited for Cornelia to snap to attention and complain about it. 

Any second now. 

“Corny?”

“Hm.” Blinking slowly, Cornelia stepped forward so she could look through the window too. “I hope you’re not expecting to stay in there,” she said, but her voice sounded so weirdly empty it gave Irma pause. Right, right - extra exhausted having to deal with keeping her emotions in check all day. On another night Irma might have been tempted to fight for her right to stay in the better bed, but tonight? She could deal.

A little more alive, Cornelia shook her head and squinted into the dark. “Lillian is also a light sleeper, so that has to be a last resort. Will, have you been able to get the Heart of Kandrakar to do anything?” she asked.

Dangling the chain between her fingers, Will sighed. “Nothing. Nada. Sorry, it can be kinda choosy about when it wants to help out. Maybe it doesn’t think we’re in enough trouble?”

“Trouble,” Taranee whined, “If anyone saw us climb the fire escape all the way up here we’re in big trouble. Why does being a Guardian involve so much breaking and entering?”

Aha! Irma saw their salvation through the darkness. She was a genius. “Speaking of breaking and entering,” she announced, “I have another idea.” 

Taranee groaned miserably.

Cornelia caught her shoulder and scowled at her. “There better not be any breaking involved, it’s my door.” 

“Corny, relax, you’re gonna love this plan,” Irma replied, scooting Hay Lin away from the door. She closed one eye and took aim with a finger gun, letting her magic rush down her arm from the shoulder in a straight line. Cornelia tensed up, clearly thinking Irma was about to pull something stupid like a waterjet through the glass, while the other girls hovered nervously in her peripheral vision. Typical, no faith. Sure, she hadn’t been that helpful in the fight today - but there was one advantage to being the one Guardian whose element wasn’t ubiquitous. That is-

Irma focused on reaching her magic further further, past the door, through the room and into the glass of water perched precariously on the shelf behind the headboard.

-Perception.

For a moment, Irma felt a bit bad about this plan. But really, why feel bad about taking the bullet?

With a flick of her wrist, the water tossed itself out of the glass and over the mattress, hitting her – clone Irma – clear in the face. She blinked awake and jerked up, looking down at herself in bewilderment and wiping her face.

Cornelia let go of her shoulder and huffed, faintly amused. Hey, that’s a win! Bad things happening to Irma, always a crowd pleaser.

“Oooh, poor Irma,” Hay Lin winced in pity. 

“Nice work,” Will said, grinning at her. Irma fist pumped, letting unabashed pride bubble through her veins. Taranee might be the smart one and Will may come up with all the best plans, but she liked to think she had her moments.

Taranee tapped on the glass softly until she caught copy Irma’s attention, waving at her. Animatedly, copy Irma threw her head back and groaned, dragging a hand down her face.

Rolling her eyes, Irma tapped on the glass more insistently. “Drama queen! It’s like 3am, get over here!” she hissed.

Clearly not speeding up at all, Astral Irma finished her little pity party and rolled over to flick the bedside light on, illuminating the shelves of shiny trophies as well as the bedheads of the other girls huddled together on the far side of the room. Cornelia’s spare bed made her bedroom easily the best slumber party site available, even if all the marble floors and high windows meant that the Hale’s apartment was hella cold as soon as autumn rolled in. Irma spotted Hay Lin’s copy blinking blearily awake in the sudden light, hair cascading over the side of the bed. 

Copy Irma stretched slowly – oh come on – and finally dragged her ass over to unlock the door. Yanking it open, clone Irma leant against the door frame, blocking their way and wiping a trail of water off her face with the back of her hand. “Quick question - what’s your problem?”

“What’d you think we were going to do, stroll in through the front door?” 

Irma pushed herself out the way, feeling the tingle of magic where she touched Astral Irma’s body. Everyone piled in after, joining their own copies until the room was crowded with copies, like standing in a house of mirrors. Cornelia took up the rear, quietly closing the door behind them.

Irritation seeped through the exhaustion in Irma’s mind as she beheld her own copy, making the same grumpy expression she recognized on herself. “Why wasn’t someone awake?” she complained.

“Because it’s twenty past whatever-the-hell in the morning? At least this way you get to inherit my sleep.”

“It would’ve been nothing past what-ever-the-hell if you guys hadn’t locked the door!”

“Whoa, stranger danger Miss Magical. Remember what dad says about personal security? Not all of us-”

Two decorative pillows beaned Irma and Astral Irma on the head simultaneously. 

“Oh my god,” one of the Hay Lins said as the pair spun around. Both of them had their throwing arms raised, sharing matching looks of annoyance as they sat on the spare bed. “Give it a rest Irma! It’s too late for this!” The copy Hay Lin nodded enthusiastically, adding, “Sleep now, argue about this never.” 

From where she had tugged Astral Will into the corner, Will shot her a scolding look. “We all just want to sleep right now, guys.” 

Completely buried under the covers, Taranee’s copy sleepily muttered, “Five more minutes…”. Taranee yawned wide, shrugged and simply touched her wrist, absorbing her astral copy in a wave of soft orange magic and a flicker of heat. She blinked slowly, catching up with her own memories, then beheld the pile of left behind pyjamas with the agony of someone who clearly deeply wanted to sleep in her day clothes.

Irma pouted, then blew out a tight breath, and slowly let the feeling of defensiveness wash through her and fade. Oh whatever. It really was too late to argue. Presumably making the same internal journey, copy Irma brushed her hair out of her face and sighed. Normally now would be the time to get all the day’s gossip off her copy, but she was just so tired- oh wait hang on. 

“So, how did you get prime position tonight? Normally we’re the one who has to sleep on these cold ass floors cause Corny won’t share,” she whispered, nudging her clone.

In the corner of the room, Will let out a soft sigh as a pink glow enveloped her body, Astral Will disappearing into a pink mist. Will and her clone never lasted long in the same room together, after astral Will got her into trouble that first time.

Grinning, copy Irma pointed a thumb at herself. “I got the bed because I charmed the pants off our dear Cornelia all day! She finally decided to stop avoiding us, so I made it worth it her while. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Almost giddy, Irma felt a big stupid smile spread across her face. Really? She got Corny back?

For the last few months, she’d been trying to learn to be more patient with Cornelia. It was hard to remember because she was so annoyingly composed all the time, but Cornelia had taken Caleb breaking up with her hard. Irma remembered with clarity how she had looked in the aftermath, lonely and devastated, holding it together for only a few moments before weeping as she collapsed into the arms of Witch. Maybe Cornelia found that embarrassing, but Irma was glad they’d all been there for her when she needed it.

So when she had started acting weird and avoidant after the breakup, Irma had missed her… but she’d tried to like, not push it, this time. Trying to force a Caleb-related confrontation was just asking for another huge argument, after all. Cornelia just needed some space and time to get over her heartbreak, and then she would be back to her brilliant and bold self. And apparently she had! Just in time for Irma to miss it, naturally, but she’d happily replace every miserable memory of today with whatever good times her clone seemed so proud of.

Irma felt her heart soar. She thought of how sad Cornelia had been today, how quiet. With any luck, Cornelia would do the same - forget all about her stupid ex boyfriend and just remember the good times Irma had given her today. God, she was such a good friend.

Yep, looks like her astral drop had handled everything just fine.

Wait a second. 

“Wait, did you get that report done for Mr Collins?”

Astral Irma froze, the smile dropping off her face, then raised her chin. “Oh sorry, is friendship not important? Am I just a homework machine to you?” she said contemptuously - Wow, defensive much? “Come on, Cornelia actually called me-”

Cornelia pulled back the covers on her bed and took a sharp, stuttering breath. Huh? Irma turned to check what she was looking at. It better not be some new magical emergency, because she was not prepared for...

Oh.

The distinct blond head of Astral Cornelia was also sleepily pushing herself out of Cornelia’s bed, hair damp and clinging as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. “Irma…?” she murmured, as if to hammer in the point, before locking eyes with her counterpart and going extremely pale.

Huh. Exactly what sort of charming had Astral Irma been up to? 

Stupid thought. But seriously, if Cornelia was in that bed, that would mean her and Irma had been sharing? The bed?

That couldn’t be the case. Cornelia didn’t share with anyone at slumber parties, hadn’t since Elyon left. Sure, those two had been happy to curl up together, but Corny had made it real clear that nobody else had that sort of permission. Especially not Irma.

So what the heck? What had astral Irma done?

Staring at copy Cornelia’s guilty face brought to mind how it had felt earlier today, when she’d been sent flying into that cliff face. Brain slow as molasses, trying to remember when and where and why she was. 

Looking at Corny- 

Oh fuck. Cornelia looked like she was about to have a fit.

Cornelia stalked over to her bed and dragged Astral Cornelia out of it by the wrist, nearly yanking her onto the floor. “You and I need to have a talk,” she hissed, pulling a grimacing clone behind her and out into the corridor, white nails digging into her arm violently. Before anyone else could get a word in, the door swung shut behind her.

Irma bit her lip. Yikes.

Yeah, she’d been celebrating that ‘good memories’ thing too early. What the hell was her clone thinking? Obviously Cornelia would hate being- seeing herself be all cuddled up with Irma of all people. 

At least Cornelia seemed to be more mad at herself than Irma? Was that thought better or worse?

A very, very awkward silence settled over the room. 

The girls looked at each other nervously. Suddenly, everyone felt much more awake than before. 

From her seat on the bed on the other side of the room, Taranee narrowed her eyes at Irma, like she was putting her big brain toward solving a maths problem solving a math problem. Slowly, she started, “If I remember correctly, Irma and Cornelia fell asleep after the rest of us.”

Everyone turned to look at her.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Irma waved her hands, defensively. This was not on her! This went well beyond the sort of teasing Irma would subject Cornelia to, and besides! It was definitely too embarrassing for Irma herself. Cornelia was a friend, but they weren’t that close. “Hey don’t look at me! Look at her!” she pointed at Astral Irma repeatedly, who scowled at her. “She’s the one who got Cornelia all embarrassed! What the heck did you do that for?”

“What, ‘cause Cornelia was willing to share a bed for once?” Astral Irma raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall and holding her ground unapologetically. ”Why does everyone always assume the worst of me! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Irma poked her in the shoulder. “Because we both know me and Cornelia would never? Did you blackmail her or something?” 

Slapping her hand away, her clone crossed her arms. “Yeah, I just opened my big box of blackmail material and she did whatever I wanted. No! We just ended up sharing. You guys are the ones making a big deal out of it.” she said, defensively. 

That was definitely Irma’s lying voice! She should know! “We’re making a big deal out of it because it’s a big deal? Newsflash sister! You’re my clone, you’re supposed to act like me!”

Astral Irma stared at Irma with wide eyes, and took a sharp breath. She almost looked like she was about to…

Venomously, Irma’s copy sneered, “What, are you jealous? Because I’m the one who solves all your goddamn problems? Because my Cornelia likes me better than your Cornelia likes you?”

Oh God. Did Irma accidentally make a gay clone? The hell was wrong with her?

This was so embarrassing. Irma threw her hands up and stomped her way over to flop in Cornelia’s desk chair, because clearly she’d earned it. Whatever the problem was, there had to be something wrong with her copy - Irma obviously wouldn’t do something like this with Cornelia, and more importantly if she ever did, she couldn’t see herself ever, not in a million years, not making a big deal out of it. “Oh great. I screwed up my astral drop guys,” she moaned, dragging her hands down her face. “She's gone haywire. Astral Will-style.”

“Girls! Please, stop.” Will broke in and held her hands up firmly, moving to stand between the pair of them. “We aren’t-” she looked at Irma specifically, “-trying to accuse you of anything. We just want to help sort things out with Irma and Cornelia, when she comes back.” She turned to look at Astral Irma, employing her full leaderly authority voice. “So please, we’re not mad. Just help us understand?”

Astral Irma puffed herself up angrily, like she was about to really let Will have it, before Irma caught the exact moment something shifted behind her eyes. Her shoulders dropped, and she looked down, shuffling her feet.

For a second, she looked oddly sad. “I understand,” she said quietly, then- 

“I understand that everything was going fine between me and Cornelia - oh sorry, ‘fake Irma’ and ‘fake Cornelia’ - before you all showed back up!” she burst forth, shoving Will out of the way and striding over to Irma. “You two are the ones that have a problem with each other, so how about you explain what you did that was so fucking wrong!”

Astral Irma grabbed Irma’s face hard.

Magic and memories smashed into Irma like they were pounding her head into the sand. She gasped.

Today flooded behind her eyes in quick flashes. Talking to her real self- Chasing her brother around- Staring at the ceiling- Talking to her mom- The excitement when Cornelia called her, making sure she dressed nicely for once- Going to Golden and eating apple pie- Getting sad about homework- Cornelia teasing her and making her laugh- Cornelia agreeing to hang out with her- Getting Cornelia into - Marc Antony? That’s hilarious, she didn’t think it was her type (Wait, Cornelia doesn’t own a CD player, does she?)- Getting that CD for her dad- Bickering with Cornelia about music, and ice cream, and tv channels, her constant, fulfilling attention, Cornelia’s eyes on her- Making Cornelia laugh- Missing an episode of Big Brother and not even being mad about it- Playing - Mario Party??? She got Cornelia to play Mario Party? She lost to Cornelia at Mario Party? And she wasn’t even mad about it. That cinched it - there was definitely something wrong with her clone. But…

Cornelia, Cornelia, Cornelia again - Astral Irma hadn’t been joking about spending all day with her. Which was awesome. But also totally weird? Did Irma blink and miss when her and Cornelia were that sort of besties? Irma hadn’t even acted weird, but Astral Cornelia had definitely acted a little differently than normal.

Blinking out of the flood of magic, Irma was faced with the other girls staring at her in shock. The soft blue silhouette of Astral Irma was still fading into into sparks, and then nothingness, leaving behind only her pyjamas in a pile on the floor.

Invisibly, she had the feeling of something missing clicking back into place inside her soul, but not fitting quite right.

Hay Lin - the real one - rushed over and grabbed her shoulders, eyes wide and worried. “Are you okay? Did she do something to you? Are you, you?” Astral Hay Lin also peered at her, looking suspiciously impressed.

“Did not know she could do that,” Irma muttered, still dazed from the experience. She stared at her hands, which felt oddly heavy. Ugh, remind her to not piss off her clone so much next time. Absorbing them was normally way less unpleasant. “Well, I feel like I just got smacked in the face with memories, and not metaphorically. But other than that I’m fine, Hay hay.” Hay Lin worried her lip, staring at Irma like she wasn’t certain she was telling the truth. What, did they think Astral Irma took over her brain or something?

The faint brush of Taranee’s mind passed over Irma’s own, prodding and noticeably nervous. ‘Can you hear me?’

Irma looked over Hay Lin’s shoulder to see Taranee frowning at her, head tilted. ‘It’s me, Tara,’ she thought in Taranee’s direction, catching her widening eyes.

‘Sorry! Just checking,’ Taranee replied sheepishly, then cleared her throat to talk to the rest of the girls. “I can’t feel anything wrong with her mind,” she said reassuringly. Hay Lin, relaxed, giving her space. “Outside of the usual, I mean.”

“Hey!”

The other girls giggled, the air in the room instantly warmer and lighter. Being the one everyone found it easy to laugh at was worth it, sometimes.

“Soooo,” Taranee folded her hands under her chin, eyes glimmering behind her glasses, “you’ve got all your memories back, right Irma? How did you really end up… you know…”

“Cuddling up with Cornelia!” Hay Lin laughed behind her hand. The other Hay Lin was smirking too, which made Irma feel slightly ganged up on as they both started chiming in. “I haven’t seen her share since we had sleepovers with Elyon.”

“Oooh! Did she have a nightmare? Were you her knight in shining armor?” 

“Or maybe they’re secret besties? Is Cornelia way nice when it’s just the two of you?” 

Irma felt her face heat up. “We weren’t cuddling,” she said, uncomfortable under the attention. Great, now all of Astral Irma’s embarrassing actions were her embarrassing actions to justify. You’re welcome my ass. 

What had happened? Irma remembered losing at Mario Party crystal clear - fucking Chance Time - then getting chased into Corny’s room by Cornelia’s slightly intimidating mom, who firmly insisted they keep it down so Lillian could get to sleep. They’d played truth or dare, which had quickly devolved into would you rather, and then into the aimless, soft, sleepy, midnight chatting that made slumber parties so great. Naturally, she couldn’t remember a word of it. Eventually, the sleepier members of the Witch squad started dropping out; First Will, because she was a crazy early riser, then Hay Lin, tired from working the midday rush, then Taranee, nearly drifting off with her glasses still perched on her nose before Cornelia laughed at her and told her to pack it in.

Throughout the whole evening, her and Cornelia had stuck right next to each other, just the same way they had all day. The last ones awake, shoulder to shoulder, whispering and laughing until she could barely keep her eyes open. Normally Irma would have split to sleep, but she had been so warm and happy. She hadn’t wanted it to end.

Feeling the weight of a head resting on her shoulder.

Fighting for a few more seconds, until-

Well, until she woke herself up blasting water in her face. Thanks for that, me. 

She was suddenly very aware of how Corny’s arm had been slung over her waist, her head pressed against her spine.

Shit, had they been cuddling? Spooning? 

Cornelia would absolutely kill Irma and Irma’s clone twice over if she told anyone that part. Irma groaned and rubbed at her eyes, remembering being on the other side of her own argument. Ok, sure, she hadn’t done anything wrong, but why couldn’t she have just come back to some good old regular sleeping bags on cold floors! She couldn’t even be reliable for herself. 

And it’s not like Cornelia was helping. Acting so weirdly nice all day, then making a big deal out of a little mistake instead of playing it off? Like, was she really that upset? That kind of… hurt, a little.

Whatever. Irma was just going to have to save face for both of them. Corny was gonna owe her one.

Looking at everyone’s curious expressions, Irma composed herself and tried to shrug casually. “She- I was right the first time. Nothing happened, we just fell asleep a little after you guys,” she said, omitting the embarrassing parts.

Will nodded slowly, while both Hay Lin and Taranee looked at her knowingly - with suspicion. Ugh, it was really hard to lie to people who knew you well. “Really?” Hay Lin pushed, and Irma felt Taranee’s mind quietly look into her own again- Oh Come On! 

Ridiculous. Irma scowled, standing sharply and crossing her arms. “You guys are so nosy! Sorry, were you hoping for something salacious? Go get your own memories, you’ll see I’m not lying,” she snapped, ‘and get out of my head!’

“Irma!” Hay Lin cried, blushing and covering her mouth with a hand while her copy pulled a face. “Don’t go there, I was just curious!” 

Taranee winced as Irma snapped off their mental link. Whatever, Irma was totally justified in using a little mind control if someone kept trying to read her thoughts.

“Right!” Will caught everyone’s attention and clapped her hands together, silencing any additional arguments. “I think we should all take Irma’s word for it, because we can all agree that That. Is. Enough for tonight. I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’m in need of 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Anyone with me?” 

Sighing, Taranee deflated a little, and pushed her glasses up to rub at her eyes. “You’re right. Sorry for pushing.” Irma shrugged, not quite forgiving her but letting it go.

Hay Lin nodded, and yawned wide and noisily, setting off a yawn in Astral Hay Lin too. They chuckled in unison, before Hay Lin held her hand out, her copy taking it and vanishing in a whoosh of silvery magic.

As the girls begrudgingly changed into their nightclothes, Irma thought. About some things.

Mostly, she thought about Cornelia.

As embarrassing as it was, Irma didn’t really have anything against sharing with Cornelia. Nights were cold, and it didn’t mean anything to her - Irma wasn’t the sappy type. Sharing the bed with the other girls was warm and pleasant and meant they didn’t have to waste time on inflatable mattresses, so every other member of Witch had probably used her as a pillow at some point. Curse of being the most ‘comfortable’ member, as Hay Lin would put it, which was a nice way of saying she was kinda chubby. Hay Lin didn’t mean anything bad by it. 

For as slim and bony as Cornelia was, she hadn’t been uncomfortable with the closeness. In fact, it was really… nice. Nicer than normal.

Cornelia was always taking steps back, hiding away the parts of herself that were soft and sweet from anyone not named Elyon or Caleb. So maybe… maybe Cornelia taking that little step forward, letting herself be sleepy and unguarded with Irma like that… 

It felt like being trusted with something important. 

Irma really liked that.

But Cornelia was clearly having second thoughts, from the way she’d torn Astral Cornelia away. Well, Irma corrected herself - Cornelia was, literally, in two minds about it. Typical. She finally got a version of Corny who liked her, only for her to be ripped away by defensive, heartbroken ‘real’ Cornelia, Jekyll and Hyde style.

Which Cornelia would remain, when the two reunited?

Will caught Irma’s elbow gently, as the other girls started slipping into bed. “Are you thinking of checking in with Cornelia?” she whispered. 

Irma nodded.

Only one way to find out.

Chapter Text

“What the fuck was that!” Cornelia hissed, and just barely stopped herself from slamming the bathroom door shut. She could hear it now, over the low thrum of the bathroom fan, how shrill she was. Who cared! What the fuck was that! With Irma! “With Irma!”

Astral Cornelia straightened from where she’d been nearly shoved into the room. Under the pallid lights, she looked strange and sickly, hair hanging damply. Rotten, Cornelia thought. Her copy glared haughtily at Cornelia with narrow, pale eyes. 

“You’re being hysterical.” 

Hysterical! When her own Astral drop had done the one thing Cornelia had been avoiding for months now! 

The bathroom lights were buzzing too loud, bouncing off the white tile and drumming into her from all sides. “You,” she said lowly, “You can't just do whatever you want! I don't do whatever I want! You can't just-” she cut off in a frustrated whine.

Just what? Cornelia was supposed to be avoiding Irma until she could take control of whatever that stupid feeling was. The strange, sick sensation in her stomach. The crawling under her skin. The way she kept finding herself fixated on her. The anxiety.

Over Irma. Words could not express enough hatred.

Until she conquered this weakness, until it went away, she was going to keep her distance. No matter what. Even if it made her feel so… even if it wasn’t what she wanted. Astral Cornelia knew this. Or she should, if she wasn’t some broken copy like Will had a habit of making.

Folding her arms, Astral Cornelia glared at her. “What do you think this is? If you would listen to me for one second instead of-”

“You know I've been avoiding her!” Cornelia cut her off. Listen to her! If it wasn't three in the morning Cornelia would have let herself get actually furious. “You are supposed to act like me.” 

Astral Cornelia flinched. Good. Whatever she is - whatever she did - she needed to be punished. This behavior would not be allowed to happen again.

Biting her lip, her copy let her hair fall across her face and turned away, locking eyes with herself in the bathroom mirror. 

Cornelia waited impatiently for her to defend herself. It’s what she would have done.

Astral Cornelia spoke again, slowly, but with a recognisable surety. “You don’t have to avoid her.”

“Oh?”

She spun around, and Cornelia saw her own stubborn expression mirrored back at her. “I spent all day with Irma and it was fine. See! I can even say her name. Absorb me. You’ll see that I’m right.”

All day! Forget the time, Cornelia was going to scream. Why? 

The thought of claiming a whole day of memories- a whole day of awful, uncomfortable feelings- whatever her mistake of a clone had done in her place- 

It had been bad enough trying to keep herself together though one version of today, let alone two. There had been no escape. Whenever she turned one way Irma had been there, always larger than life, cracking jokes and making stupid comments and generally making a fool of herself, like usual, except for the part where sometimes she would catch Cornelia’s eye and grin and Cornelia’s heart would start racing like she was scared of something. 

Then whenever she turned around, Caleb was there. Smooth and suave and composed. Cornelia couldn’t keep herself from staring. Whatever she was hoping for - some sign of regret or sorrow - she didn’t find it. It was painful, seeing him so perfect and unaffected. Her limbs shook with the energy of it, magic and power angry and unsettled in her bones. Cornelia had already cried over this stupid boy in front of everyone once. It wasn’t about to happen again.

She must have lost her grip on the earth spirit at least five times. None of the girls had called her out on it, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t noticed.

And she didn’t even get to see-

Her stomach lurched. Stupid. Pathetic. She clenched her teeth. Don’t think about it.

She didn’t want memories. She wanted answers.

“Do you have no self control, or are you trying to ruin my life on purpose?”

“Oh I’m sorry, are you suddenly allergic to hanging out with a friend!”

Cornelia snarled and slammed her hand against the sink, rattling the pot of plastic toothbrushes. “Tell me, since you’re so interested in living my life - Do I normally get into bed with my friends?”

Astral Cornelia blushed like a stoplight, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “If you would stop interrupting me,” she forced out, “I would have told you that it was an accident. Mistakes happen!”

That was her excuse?

“Not to me. Not like this.” Cornelia held up a hand to silence her clone’s objection, scowling. “And I don’t know who exactly you think you’re fooling. You’re me. You are aware I’m the one who has to go back to the others and play it off?” 

Astral Cornelia sneered. “Oh right, because you sure didn’t make a big deal out of it in front of everyone!” 

“You’re blaming me for this?” Cornelia cried, throwing her hands up. Her hand caught a hairbrush on the counter, sending it skittering noisily across the floor.

Two pairs of shoulders shot up to their ears.

The girls looked at each other in an awkward panic.

Slowly, Astral Cornelia crouched down to pick up the brush, while Cornelia put her ear to the door to check for movement.

Silence.

She let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the unyielding wood of the door.

“Ugh. Whatever. I can’t do this right now.” Cornelia cast a glance at her copy. “This won’t happen again. Next time, I’m making sure I make an Astral Drop who can do as she is told.” She smoothed down her hair, running her nails across her scalp to try and prepare herself for whatever memories her copy was going to dump her with.

Astral Cornelia straightened up and looked at Cornelia critically, with wide anxious eyes. The impression of being analyzed prickled at the back of her neck. Taranee made her feel like this sometimes, but that was just because she was too sharp for her own good. Astral Cornelia, on the other hand, was frowning at her seriously.

“You… I’m you, you know? I know it’s embarrassing, but…” she hesitated. “You don’t have to pretend that you don’t like Irma in front of me.”

This clone had officially passed her expiration date.

Who did she think she was! Who did she think Cornelia was!

A faint tremor bounced through the building’s foundations. “You don’t know anything. You do not get to talk about her.” 

“I-” Astral Cornelia’s face was near translucent.

Cornelia cornered her reflection against the counter, hands shaking with fury.  “I don’t need your input, I don’t need your help. Not with my friends, not with my family, not with Caleb and not with fucking Irma!” she finished, digging her nails into her palms. How dare she! How dare her ridiculous copy try to choose what was best for her!

Suddenly, ominously, the weight of anger seemed to fall off Astral Cornelia. “Wait. This whole thing - it really is about Caleb?”

Cornelia stared at her, and didn’t recognize who she was looking at. “You need to stop talking.”

Astral Cornelia reached out and took her by the hands with urgency. Her hands were smooth and pale and long, a perfect copy of her own, and hummed with the magic of her soul.

“Cornelia. Please. If you actually talked to Irma, you would–” 

And then, the hands dissolved.

Her copy looked down at her disappearing body. She looked back up at Cornelia, opened her mouth to speak–

Then in a swirl of floral magic, Astral Cornelia was gone.

The fan hummed quietly. 

Memories buzzed and wormed their way through Cornelia’s head like hornets. She took a controlled breath, in and out. Mechanically, she changed into her nightdress and tossed her clothes and shoes into a pile in the corner. It was cold in here, colder now that Cornelia was alone.

Don’t think about it.

She pushed her palms into her eyes until it hurt, dug her nails into her hairline. She took a breath. And again. And again. And faster. And-

She choked on a sob, and slid down the door.

It was so unfair! Cornelia had been angrily wasting away her day in misery over Caleb - Caleb, who broke up with her, who acted like he was doing the best for them, who only ever fell in love with a fake version of her - even her own copy had grown up and moved on. Had spent her day with someone who made her feel happy. Happier than Cornelia could remember being in weeks. 

It was so easy for her, wasn’t it! She didn’t have to deal with this feeling! No fear. No tension. No struggle. Her own copy got everything she wanted. She hadn’t even made an effort to hide how much she had enjoyed spending time with Irma today. She had been so obvious.

Humiliating.

What would Irma think of her? She must seem so needy–

What would Irma think of her? Cornelia blinked like she’d been smacked over the head. Holy shit. If she was actually thinking like that, she had got to get her act together. 

Breathe deeper, slower. She forced herself to feel the cold tiles under her feet, to let them ground her. Filling her lungs and holding it in until her mind cleared. Casting her sense of self outward, becoming the gentle fronds of the houseplants in the hallway, the branches of the trees outside, the cold geological stillness of the earth below. She was bigger than this. She wound her hair around her fingers until she could feel the blood throbbing underneath.

Unfair? The world wasn't fair. That was why she had to conquer this, like she would conquer how she felt about Caleb, like she would conquer her silly little crush on Peter and actually make a move on him, someday. How she felt about Irma, however Irma thought about her - it was just another obstacle. 

There was no way in hell Cornelia was going to deal with the burden of Irma’s pity, because she wasn’t going to give her a reason to pity her. She was going to walk back to her bedroom with her head held high and her pride untouchable. The girls would tease her, but she could cow them into holding their tongues. That wouldn’t work on Irma, but she was flighty; She would get bored and move on. 

Everything was fine. She would make it fine. Everything would go back to normal.

Knocking rattled the door above her head.

“Pst. Corny? It's been a minute. Are you still taking off your makeup in there or are you in the middle of some kind of bathroom disaster?”

Cornelia jolted, heart racing, and groaned under her breath. Would it have been too much to ask for Irma to give her a few more minutes? Tomorrow morning? The nauseous sensation of anticipation bloomed in her gut, familiar but almost surprising as two expectations from two sets of memories clashed against each other.

Unfurling to her feet, Cornelia dusted herself off. A quick check in the mirror confirmed some redness around her eyes, but nothing too noticeable. Whatever, she wasn’t about to face the most observant member of W.i.t.c.h.

Cornelia swung open the door and scowled at Irma. “What do you want?” she said, and tried not to wince over the slight wobble in her voice.

Irma squinted into the light, and raised an eyebrow. “Wow, forgive a girl for checking in? You’ve still got your makeup on, by the way.” She peered over Cornelia’s shoulder. “Did you and Copy Corny make up yet?”

Cornelia sighed, clicking off the light and plunging the two of them into darkness. Already that stupid, nameless feeling skittered under her skin, she thought with a bolt of irritation. “Just me.”

Faltering moonlight fell through the gaps in the drapes drawn over the high windows, dappled with spots of condensation, while the warm glow of artificial light spilt like liquid from the gap under Cornelia’s doorframe. In eyes unadjusted to the dim of night, the marble corridor, the potted plants and all the picture frames were reduced to vague shapes and shadows. It would have made Cornelia drowsy, if her head hadn't been pounding so hard.

A pause. Cornelia heard Irma shuffle her weight from one foot to the other, back and forth. “Right. So back there. That was…”

Swallowing dryly, she made an effort to keep her voice level. “Whatever you’re going to say, save it. It was a mistake.”

Irma threw her a skeptical look. She was so expressive, easy to read even in the dark. “I’m not sure mistakes tend to involve that much cuddling, Corny.”

She glared down her nose at Irma, determined to give her the hardest cold shoulder she had experienced in her life. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she sniped, and tried to walk past, but Irma darted in front and intercepted her path like some sort of football player. Of course she did, the insufferable little- Anger sparked in her chest; She considered just shoving her, but that would have made her look desperate.

“Long day boiled the last of your gray matter or - wait, stop,” Irma scolded and held out her palms in the stop gesture, seemingly to herself. Seconds ticked by as she closed her eyes, blew out a breath, and tugged her fingers through her hair. “Three AM brain, sorry.”

Cornelia glowered at being made to wait, and made a point of tapping her foot against the floor. “Like it has to be three in the morning for you to be this stupid.”

“Sorry! Whatever! This isn’t why I wanted to talk to you.” She motioned Cornelia over to the far end of the hallway by the stairs, further away from Lillian’s bedroom, which she contemptuously followed. Frowning, Irma crossed her arms and huffed. “God, Will would be better at this. She makes all the good speeches. Couldn’t you have spooned her instead?”

A wave of nausea prickled up Cornelia’s throat. “We were not spooning.”

“Eh, agree to disagree,” Irma muttered, as if she were discussing something innocuous like the weather, which Cornelia tried not to hate her for. Finally steeling herself, she cleared her throat. “Okay, for real. I just wanna know if we’re uh. Good?”

“Good?” 

“Well. Our copies - our Astral Drops, I mean - they had a good day today, right?”

Cornelia narrowed her eyes. “Where are you going with this?” 

Irma looked away, scratching the back of her head. Then, before her eyes, something beautiful happened: Irma became bashful.

“It’s been a while since we last hung out, and I mean a while - which is totally not a problem, I mean not my problem, not that you’d- care?” she rambled, voice strangely pitchy,  “But it all went well! Well - it went good, great even, I had a good time. And I know we came back to something really, really embarrassing, for both of us but especially for you, but-” she made a meaningless fumbling motion with her hands, “I know I was joking before, but we both know it was basically an accident, and we- they didn’t do it on purpose.”

As Irma spoke, the prickling sensation spread, curling around her limbs and into her bones like a creeping plant. Stronger than before but new, pleasant. It felt like excitement. 

Bright even in the silvery light of the waning moon, Irma cocked her head and gave her a small, uncharacteristically nervous smile. “And I just don't want that last bit to have ruined everything. Especially since our version of today just. Sucked. Right?"

A hot and tight surge of emotion pulled at her throat as Cornelia stared. It hadn’t occurred to her that Irma would want to make amends. Surely she knew that it had all been Cornelia’s fault? This must have been her way of giving Cornelia an out, but she had chosen an awfully vulnerable way. Not an invitation to poke fun, or start sparing. Guiltily, it hit her: She liked seeing Irma like this - not embarrassed or humbled, but almost… surrendering. Looking for reassurance from her.

Cornelia suddenly had the creeping suspicion that she hadn’t been a very good friend. She had forgotten that Irma cared about her. About all her friends. However clumsy she was about showing it. 

How was she supposed to speak around this feeling in her throat? Cornelia swallowed. “Today… really did suck,” she finally agreed, weakly. Not the best response, but a concession at least. 

Irma’s smile twitched. “Right? Fucking Caleb. Don’t know you managed all day.” She put her hands on her hips and gave a long, deep sigh. “I should’ve waterboarded him when I had the chance.”

Cornelia sputtered on a laugh, taken aback. “You’re awful, don’t joke about that,” she chided, fighting to control her expression as a smile forced its way onto her face. This girl was annoying, but Cornelia had forgotten how much she made her laugh. She really had been missing out, forcing herself to stay away.

“I’m serious! Give me one reason and I’ll introduce Metamoor to the concept of the enema.”

Grimacing around her smile, Cornelia smacked Irma on the arm. “Shut up. Stop being vulgar.” Irma shook her head and chuckled, unaffected, but her smile still seemed uncomfortable at the edges. Cornelia wanted to reach over and smooth it out. Metaphorically. 

“So, listen.” Letting out a frustrated puff of air, Irma placed her hand gingerly on Cornelia’s bare arm. The warmth and weight of it shot goosebumps up her arm as she suppressed a shiver, but she didn't shake her off. Irma bit her lip, then plunged ahead. “Are you still all broken up over that guy?”

Hm. Okay, whatever affection Cornelia felt earlier was draining rapidly from her body. “What exactly would you know about that sort of thing, Irma?” she snapped, glaring.

“Oh, shit, no, I meant-” Irma’s eyes widened as she backpeddled, “I know you don't wanna talk about Caleb with me, I'm the last person who wants that. I just think that hanging out with your friends is a good way to get over him, you know? Instead of trying to go it alone again?” 

Before Cornelia could decide how offended she was at that statement, Irma looked away and groaned lowly, mouth twisting. “I told you before, didn’t I? I miss you, when you’re… Look, I’ll be really pissed off if the bed thing or seeing Caleb again or any of that crap made it like today didn’t happen.”

Oh. That’s what this was about. Something knotted in Cornelia’s chest constricted. Irma wanted to spend more time with her. 

Cornelia had missed her, too.

She wanted to tell her. In this private place between the two of them, her blood racing inelegantly through her veins and breath tight in her lungs, it felt like it was the sort of thing she was supposed to confess. Life was more fun when Irma and she were together. Irma had taken that risk of admitting it. Surely, Cornelia owed her the same.

But the feeling was there again, making her gut churn and the words turn sour in her mouth. This stupid, awful, friendship-ruining fear. 

No, screw that, she wasn’t about to be outdone, or indebted. She was Cornelia Hale, Guardian of Earth. She had faced down disgusting snake monsters and evil princes and ancient sorceresses, and she could be nice and reassuring to a friend! Play into their banter like she always did, and she would think of something. Irma liked it when Cornelia teased her. She was reliable like that.

“Of course today happened. I don’t think I would forget beating you at Mario Party on my very first attempt.”

Irma hesitated, but picked up on where Cornelia was heading with ease. “That was a miscarriage of justice as you clearly know. And after I was so nice to you all day!”

“Nice to me? You ate my food, you dragged me around town and you made me watch mediocre cop procedurals.”

“As if you couldn’t have said no?”

Cornelia ignored her, enjoying the warmth of easy conversation. “You convinced me to buy a CD. I don’t even own a player.”

“So I don’t even need mind control to convince you to do whatever I want?” Irma batted her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Dangerous thing to admit, Corny.”

This girl was giving her a headache. Her face flushing, Cornelia rolled her eyes.  “You have a nice one in your room, don’t you? You’ll have to let me use it sometime. You owe me that much, for all this trouble.”

Tossing her head back with a barely restrained laugh, Irma grinned obnoxiously, the way she was meant to. “Well, If you say so, I suppose I do. You’re so welcome.” Her eyes crinkled, pleased and relieved, and Cornelia knew she caught her meaning.

There it was. It felt good to put the smile back on her face. Eugh, sappy thought. It was far too late at night for this. 

Irma gave Cornelia’s arm a quick squeeze, then slowly reached around to awkwardly pat her on the back. The motion brought her close, so close Cornelia squirmed at the breath against her collarbone. Their position would have been flustering if it wasn’t so completely perplexing. What the hell was she doing?

“What the hell are you doing?”

Irma rolled her eyes, as if Cornelia were somehow asking a stupid question. “What, do you want a hug? I’m being nice and considerate.”

“With back pats? Are you my dad?”

Snorting, Irma looked up at her with a challenging curve to her smile. “You're so ungrateful. Fine, one Lair-style hug coming up, Princess.”

That was all the warning Cornelia had before Irma wrapped her arms around her waist and yanked her in, crushing them chest to chest and tugging Cornelia up onto her toes.

Cornelia nearly bit her tongue. Blood thumped inside her skull. 

“Are you gonna do something nice for me now, babe?” Irma teased, then stuttered on her breath when Cornelia wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

Instantly, she felt sick to her stomach. Irma didn't even- this was supposed to be a joke, wasn't it? She was supposed to play along, somehow, not-

Irma loosened her grip, and for one terrifying moment Cornelia was certain she was going to push her away, but she just settled and spread her hands against Cornelia’s back, fiddling with the pleats of her nightdress and warm through the thin fabric. “There we go,” she murmured.

Long, extended hugs weren't a Cornelia-and-Irma thing. They weren't a Cornelia-and-anybody thing, anymore.

But Irma was soft, and sturdy, and she smelled nice. Cornelia breathed in deep, her chest moving against Irma’s body, Irma’s heart thumping steadily against her own. Floral. All those baths were paying off. Cornelia tucked her head into the collar of her pajamas, curls brushing against her cheek, and squeezed her tighter, relishing in the pressure when Irma returned the gesture.

Despite how much her heart was racing, despite the headache pulsing through her temples - for the first time all night, the anxiety was gone. Cornelia felt like she could breathe. Like she wasn’t going insane. In fact her mind felt blissfully, perfectly empty. Perhaps that was a side effect of being close to Irma.

She loved this. It was pathetic how much steadier being held made Cornelia feel. She had missed having a friend she could feel this close to.

Hay Lin was right. She always did say Irma gave the best hugs.

When was she going to get the chance to do this again?

“Are we the sort of friends who can do this now?” Irma asked over her shoulder, voice light and humming against her chest. For once, Cornelia couldn't tell if she was teasing or not.

Please don't make her answer that. Because if it were up to Cornelia, then… “I guess so?” she said, grimacing at the hopefulness in her voice. Way too obvious.

Giving her one last squeeze, Irma drew back until her hands rested just lightly on her hips, then let her go. Cornelia’s own hands came to rest on her shoulders, until she realized she was the only one maintaining contact. She straightened out Irma’s collar and dropped her hands quickly. In the cold of the night the nervousness sprung back to life, but getting to see Irma’s eager grin soothed it into something tame, like embers dimly glowing under her skin. “You guess? I’m honored. Careful who you give that sort of permission to Corny. I might just do that around the girls, you know,” she said, laughter in her voice.

The image rose to her mind, unbidden. Irma tugging her into her arms, brazen and shameless with a big stupid smug smile, in front of all the other girls-

Absolutely not. Get it together. Irma was teasing her. The utter adrenaline spike from the idea was stupid. Cornelia didn’t want that. All those eyes on her indulging in something so embarrassing? Forget it. Stop thinking about it. “I’ve changed my mind, hugging privileges are revoked.”

Irma giggled, and bumped her shoulder into Cornelia’s. “Not even in front of Caleb? Come oooon, let’s make him jealous.”

Cornelia… briefly entertained that idea. The two of them in their breathtaking guardian forms, laughing and curling an arm around Irma’s shoulders, her wings fluttering under her fingertips, Irma’s hands warm and firm on her hips. Catching Caleb’s attention just to completely ignore him, wrapped up in her own world. Horrifically appealing, although nothing that would be effective on Mr Perfect. He would just be happy about her getting over him, or something.

Also, not the sort of petty behavior Cornelia wanted to indulge in. Even if Irma was tempting. Her idea was tempting. 

...But another person sprung to mind. One that Irma hadn't mentioned. One that Cornelia hated herself for thinking about.

Cornelia’s stomach turned. “He’s not worth it. And he’s… not really the problem.” At her side, Irma made a little curious noise. 

Damnit. She was going to admit it. She wanted to. Irma’s blabbermouth was catching. The thing she had been dodging around all day - the thing Cornelia wouldn’t even admit to herself. 

The picture of Caleb in her desk was still burning a hole in the back of her mind. But Elyon had been the one to draw it for her.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed Elyon.”

Saying the words hurt. Worse, it made them real. It felt like a great tide dislodging a truth that had been stuck in her chest.

She did. For as long as Cornelia could remember, Elyon and she had been best friends, two halves of a whole. She missed Elyon like a part of her soul had been chiselled away. She missed her narrow shoulders and her flaxen hair and her soft, sweet eyes, and the way they’d brighten and sparkle when she was excited over a grand new idea for her artwork, how easily flustered she got whenever Cornelia praised her. She missed her quiet, clever comments, the ones she made just for Cornelia, the eye rolls they shared when Irma and Hay Lin started getting too rowdy. She missed how it felt to share her private thoughts and dreams and space with someone who got her.

How Elyon had looked at Cornelia with such pride when she won the Heatherfield Ice Club Novice figure skating division. Her soft and firm faith that she would make the New England regional championships someday, holding her ice-cold hands. The shiver it sent down her spine.

There was always something a little captivating, a little ethereal, about Eylon. Something Cornelia prided herself on noticing, even when nobody else could see it. Something that made her special. Important. More special and more important than Cornelia, in the end.

God, she missed her. 

How long had it been now? Nearly a year, since Elyon had first been spirited away to Meridian. Close to half a year since Cornelia had last seen her.

Cornelia had put everything on hold to help out in Meridian today. Ex-boyfriends, figure skating, sleepovers - none of them had been important, in comparison to making the time to see her best friend again.

Elyon hadn’t done the same. So much for never forgetting their friendship.

What an awful thing to think. What would Elyon feel, if she knew? Would she resent her, too?

Irma was quiet, like she was actually thinking before speaking. Cornelia shut her eyes tight, partly to will away the sensation of tears, and mostly so she didn’t have to look at whatever pitying look Irma must be giving her right now. 

“I’m sure she wanted to see you. It just didn’t work out today,” Irma answered uncertainly, voice cloyingly sympathetic.

Cornelia couldn't bear this. “Shut up. I know.”

“You shut up.” She expected some sort of aggrieved reply, but Irma just softly pressed her shoulder against Cornelia’s and held it there. “Fine, want me to be honest? Kind of a dick move for Ellie to not come over and see us. Especially you.”

Clenching her jaw, Cornelia let herself lean into the contact a little in agreement. “She’s a queen now. She has responsibilities. I can’t expect her to make an exception for me.”

“Are we complaining about her or not? She’s your friend. Our friend.” Irma tilted her face into Cornelia’s shoulder to stifle a yawn. Her messy curls tickled on her neck. “We all are. I don’t know. Everything’s changed so much since last year. So much time gets taken up by all these stupid responsibilities. Don’t want to be mad at Ellie for being busy, but…”

A pulse of hot gratitude blossomed in Cornelia’s chest. Even sloppy and sleep-deprived, Irma did get it. She took a shaky breath, and let some of the tension drop from the set of her shoulders. Her hand brushed against the back of Irma’s.

“That’s called growing up, Irma. It’s something we all have to deal with.”

“Okay smartass. Doesn’t mean we have to pretend to be happy about it when it sucks.”

Cornelia hummed in concession, and knocked her hand against Irma’s on purpose. It felt... better, in a sense, to have it out in the open. Maybe there was some truth about a sorrow shared.

“Fascinating. You may actually be smarter when you're sleep deprived.”

Irma huffed a little laugh into her shoulder, then finally stopped her slow slump into Cornelia, pushing away and up on her tiptoes to stretch her arms over her head. “I’m smart all the time, you just pretend I’m not. I guess it’s not all bad. Boyfriends, jobs. Badass magical powers. Regular teenager stuff. Taranee’s a sweetheart, and Will’s super cool.”

Quietly, so quietly Cornelia could barely hear it, Irma murmured to herself, “And we’re like, besties now?”

Something molten sputtered to life in her chest.

“Besties?” Cornelia asked, loudly, a grin obvious in her voice. 

Irma jolted, looking at Cornelia’s face for a split second before whipping her head around to look anywhere else, crossing her arms stubbornly. Cornelia leant down to try and catch her eye. Was she blushing? “Wh- Well! You heard me! I'm not saying we have what you and Elyon had, but I went to all this trouble to give you this late night pep talk. I think I deserve to call myself a best friend!“

The excitement was back. Cornelia wanted more of it.

“Are you the one who gets to decide that?”

Irma sputtered over her words in such a lovely way. “Yes? You’re the one who said you wanted to be that sort of friend? You're really fun. And I can talk to you for ages.”

“Isn't it mostly bickering?”

“Is that so bad?”

“I don't know, it might say something about your character.”

Irma rolled her eyes and punched Cornelia in the arm with a little too much force. “I take it back. Lack of exposure made me forget how much I want to strangle you.”

This instinctive, open delight - Where did this come from? Cornelia didn't feel anxious now, didn't feel uncomfortable or scared. She felt like she was made of gold, happiness ringing in her chest like the clanging of a bell. Irma thought that she was fun. She thought that they were best friends.

This feeling, like she was on pins and needles around Irma. Was it just a desire for a deeper, reciprocated friendship?

That felt… right. 

Ugh, she is so corny. Irma can never know.

“Oh dear, your poor memory.” Cornelia patted Irma condescendingly on the cheek. “I can’t give you another opportunity to forget your best friend. That’s simply not fair.”

Irma batted her hand away, but flashed her a brilliant smile, and Cornelia knew she was right.

“Does this mean I get hugging privileges back?”

“Only if you’re discreet.”

–--

Cornelia and Irma beheld the bedroom situation with a pair of equal, exasperated, exhausted expressions.

Yep. The other three girls were all sleeping in the spare bed again. Those bitches. 

“I’ll…” Irma started sluggishly, and yawned, like she was starting to fall asleep mid-sentence, “I’ll get the sleeping bag.”

“Don’t bother,” Cornelia said, and then realized what she said when Irma turned to look at her strangely. Spending time with Irma made her stupid. She stared straight ahead and dug her nails into her palms. “It’s late. Let’s just not make a big deal out of it.” 

It wasn't… wasn't bad to want a little more time with Irma. She was allowed to want this now. Irma wanted more of her. Spending today with Irma had been fun. Talking to her tonight had solved her stupid feelings problem. She felt a faint pang of guilt, because her Astral Drop had been right, but it’s not like she had explained herself well. It couldn't be helped.

Irma tossed the covers and flopped herself backward into Cornelia’s bed, making herself comfortable directly in the middle of it. Cornelia stared at her, mind going blank. Obviously, Irma had a way of looking satisfied with herself that made her look at home no matter where she was, but at this moment…

Cornelia bit her lip. After a second, Irma flicked her eyes open and looked back at her, tilting her chin like she was trying to call her bluff. Raising her eyebrows, Cornelia followed her first instinct, and scolded her.

“Move over. You’re worse than Napoleon.”

Eyes widening, Irma shuffled over as Cornelia joined her, muttering under her breath. “Oh, you were serious. Okay.”

“I’m always serious. Move it.” She didn't move enough, but Cornelia wedged herself in at the edge of the bed anyway, rolling on her side to face the door. Irritatingly, Irma followed suit behind her.

“You know, if you’d decided you were okay with this an hour ago we could have avoided a lot of stress.”

“I can and will push you out of this- Jesus Christ your feet are freezing!”

“Yeah, and you’re warm. We should go back to spooning.” Irma pressed up against her back, digging her chin into her shoulderblade and slinging an arm over Cornelia's middle in demonstration. Absolutely not. Cornelia shoved her away, infuriated.

“Get off me we are not-”

“Oh so hugging is fine but this is a step too far-”

“Is this discreet to you?”

“Who wanted to share again?”

“If you two don’t shut up I can and will call your parents right this second.”

The pair whipped their heads around and caught Will’s furious glare. Cornelia swallowed. Irma waved sheepishly. Narrowing her eyes, Will turned over and smashed her face into the pillow. 

“Nark,” Irma mumbled under her breath, and reached over to turn the light off.

With only slightly more muffled pushing and shoving Irma backed off, but insisted on leaving a hand curled against Cornelia's back, which made her struggle not to squirm, and two absurdly cold feet wedged between her shins, which was acceptable. She had known Irma was affectionate, but having it pointed her way was… insufferable. Albeit a little sweet. At least somebody wanted to spend time with her tonight, Cornelia thought bitterly.

Irma let out a jaw-crackingly wide yawn, hot against the back of Cornelia's neck through her hair, and wrapped the covers tighter around herself to seal out the night air. “Night, Corny,” she sighed, made a little sleepy grunt, and knocked out within seconds.

Cornelia stared into the darkness, and counted the seconds. Exhaustion pulsed and ached behind her eyes, open or closed, the way it did on her most sleepless nights. Being a night owl was nothing new to her, but after a day as long and fraught as today, shouldn’t it have been easy for once? Her Astral Drop hadn’t found it hard to succumb to sleep at all, and she was in exactly the same position she had been in, experiencing the same emotions. She felt warm, and comfortable, and wanted.

She felt… 

Anxious?

The blood raced to her head as her heart pounded with a sudden spike of adrenaline, her headache following like a descending fog. Irritating. Irritating! What was with her! 

She took a deep breath, and couldn’t help but notice the way Irma’s hand shifted against her. This was fine. There were always nerves before a performance, even if she had practiced the routine a thousand times. Cornelia was out of practice when it came to being a best friend. Irma was nothing like Elyon, but she would figure it out again. Learn the motions, get used to the moves. At least it wasn't like last time - she didn't have to worry about some magical responsibility to another world ripping Irma away. Their magical responsibility had bound them together for life. Guardians united, like Will always said.

Sure, one day Irma would have a boyfriend, and eventually, a husband - so would Cornelia - but W.i.t.c.h. would always be bound together by something deeper. A shared, spiritual bond of unity. She wasn't going to lose her.

Something about that future didn’t quite soothe her heart. 

What was her problem? She had been so open with Irma. She hugged her. She was sharing a bed with her right now! 

What more could she possibly have wanted from a friend!

With an awful, geological slowness, a new idea slipped into place.

No. 

Fuck.

She did know this feeling.

Not- not in this exact way, but too similar to ignore.

Cornelia had always told herself that she was good at facing unpleasant truths. Reality doesn't wait for your delusions - it's only mature to confront it head-on, to be able to prepare for what comes next.

For once, Cornelia just really, really wished she could turn her head away.

Like a mountain crumbling from erosion, rain infiltrating the ground until the truth slipped loose and smashed in a great landslide into her life, reality crashed down on her without mercy.

She had a crush on Irma.