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Reflected Twilight

Summary:

Crystal Pelham is probably the last person people expect to mourn Khepri.

But, then, most people don't know they were roommates.

Notes:

Made for clue 1234567's rarepair challenge.

Crystal might be wildly OOC. I think it's fine, but, like, fuck, I wrote this in an hour and half off the harebrained 'yo what about Crystal as Taylor's roommate in Chicago, but it's Ward and she's at Rachel's monument mourning Taylor after Carol plays fuck fuck games with inviting Amy to the thingy'

Obviously, Crystal was significantly more pissed at Carol in this, on top of being pissed she would do that to Vicky, as well. Carol and Mark are both not very high on the books for the young DPTN members here.

Work Text:

The monument wasn't the sort of thing you saw in many places. A lot of people tried to forget her. To…forget what she did, because none of them knew what she sacrificed. Few did, and even fewer would mourn her for it.

 

I let myself fall back, float an inch above the snowy ground, back against the monument. The grave.

 

“Hey, Tay.” I said, softly. “It's been rough since I last visited.. Carol’s playing games. Mark’s not stopping her, and doesn't get it. Vicky is crashing at my place, and Amy’s…Amy. Unrepentant. She doesn't think she did anything wrong, or maybe she thinks that trying to atone a little is enough for forgiveness.” My eyes traced the shape of the clouds.

 

Hah.

 

One looked like a spider. I could almost delude myself that she was listening, that Taylor was present.

 

“I can't forgive her. Not for Vicky, and not for you.” It felt like a relief of some sort, to say it out loud. “Lisa’s told me the story, finally, because of this. Turns out she's weak to messy girls showing up on her doorstep absolutely furious. Go figure.” Strange, really. To think that after the end of the world, that the Undersiders would be my best friends. That I would split my time between two worlds like this.

 

I hadn't ever known Skitter; not really. I helped her shove Armsmaster's halberd up Leviathan's ass. The end of our relationship. Or, it was.

 

But I knew Weaver. Chicago had been an attempt at a new start, away from the dust and echoes, away from Carol and Mark. And even though I was twenty, there was something about me that made Weaver a little less of an ice cold bitch.

 

I chose to believe it was because in some small way, I’d been there for Skitter. I was…some tiny, infinitesimal part of Brockton Bay she could reclaim.

 

“You never should have let her touch you, Tay.” My eyes burned, a little. “Maybe it's hindsight, maybe it's just right, but you should have let Bonesaw do it. She could've brought you back, wouldn't have broken you.”

 

Maybe it was unfair. To blame Amy for Khepri. To blame Amy for the fact that everywhere I looked, all I saw about her was fear, and scorn, and hate.

 

To blame Amy for the loss of the girl that would find me, a messy twenty year old, crashing on the Chicago Wards’ couch, binge watching TV, and decided that she’d do something about it.

 

A spar, a workout, a book she recommended.

 

I still had each and every book.

 

The crunch of boots in snow alerted me to the presence of another person. I looked up, and froze. Just a little.

 

“Hey.”

 

Victoria, my recently acquired roommate, sounded casual as she scrutinized the monument. I wasn't sure how she'd found me here, but I wasn't surprised that my cousin had found a way.

 

I’d been avoiding her about why I had blown up Carol’s grill like she had mangled her white picket fence. She'd been…curious.

 

“Hey.” I didn't really know what else to say. Other than, maybe ‘hey, Vicky, maybe you should leave because if Rachel finds you here she’ll sic the dogs on you’, but…

 

She came to float next to me, and she looked thoughtful. “What was she like?” It felt like a loaded ass question, to be asking me now. “Khepri.”

 

“Weaver. I knew her as Weaver.” I scrubbed my face. “It's probably a little weird. She was 17, 18. I was 20, 21. Still not sure how Dragon swung it, letting her stay with me by the PRT.” I paused.

 

It had been rocky, at first. I liked things cluttered, full of mementos and memories. Taylor liked organization, things where they were supposed to be. We came to a sort of arrangement, an unspoken messy thing that ended in a forest of carefully organized shelves. I had tried to replicate it, and failed miserably.

 

“Parahumans don't really do normal, I guess.” I wasn't sure, really, what Victoria's actual opinion on everything was, but I shrugged and accepted the statement as an olive branch.

 

“She was…focused. Absolutely razor focused on the end of the world. But when she was dragged into the quiet moments she was…shy. A bit of a dork. Liked books, wasn't much for technology, but she was the kind of person that was…not happy, I’m not sure she was really capable of it, but…copacetic with being there, doing things with people she liked.”

 

I glanced to Rachel’s monument.

Taylor

My Friend

It wasn't…the normal. But it was very Rachel, no frills, just a name and a little thing carved into a big rock.

 

“Sounds cozy.” Victoria commented, her eyes searching my forehead as if she could peer into my brain and get answers. I wanted to laugh, because there wasn't a simple answer to Taylor Hebert.

 

“Is it unfair of me?” I asked, suddenly, staring at the spider cloud that was drifting lazily in the sky. “To blame Amy?”

 

Victoria tensed. “About what?” It was a careful question, and I knew that Gold Morning was a bad memory for her.

 

“Khepri. She made Khepri.” My eyes stung for real, now, and wetness started to trail my cheeks. “And…I wasn't there, Victoria. I was hiding. Like a coward. Like…like hiding from that was even an option.”

 

A sucked in breath told me how that made her feel.

 

I didn't stop now. “She just…she killed herself, Vic, and I wasn't even there to say goodbye. Walked right into those bloody hands for the chance that it might save the world. And…”

 

And she did. And I wasn't there.

 

It went unsaid. I didn't finish the statement. I scrubbed at my face, because I really didn't want to be crying over this. I thought I had gotten over the tears already.

 

I guess wounds like this never heal.

 

“I didn't know.” She sidled up, and pulled me into a side hug. “I don't know, Crystal. I’m not unbiased. I don't think it's unfair.” How hard must this be for her? For Victoria to think about this without freaking out? “Tell me about her. The little moments. The things worth remembering.”

 

I hiccuped, just a little. “On her eighteenth birthday, she dyed her hair. Temporary hair dye, this wonderful deep shade of red, just because I mentioned once I find dyed hair attractive. She couldn't see her dad, but we made a day of it. It was…good. She put in a lot of effort.” I gave a little smile. “Even though I knew I was never really her priority…she refused to do anything less than two hundred percent.” I leaned into Victoria.

 

“Sounds like it was good.”

 

I laughed. “Honestly…I think I would’ve started to feel stifled by it. She was intense, really intense, and it was great and wonderful…but kind of overwhelming. Didn't matter, in the end…” I sighed.

 

Victoria’s head bobbed, briefly brushing my hair. “I get you. So…that's why you blew up Carol’s grill.” I nodded, and opened my mouth to say something else—

 

Bastard howled as he emerged, far side of the field. “Time to go!” I shot upwards without any further explanation, and it was a little funny to see Victoria's expression as she followed.

 

I didn't get much of a glimpse of Rachel before we were too far,

but…

I think she looked satisfied, in her own way, that I had visited the monument.