Fic!
title: Untitled
author: Incanto
rating: PG
summary: "It wasn't long after Black John's defeat that things began to go downhill for the coven."
assignment: Cassie/Sean, Cassie has a 9-5 job, Cassie and her mom talk witchy stuff, canonworthy characters
notes: none
It wasn't long after Black John's defeat that things began to go downhill for the coven.
Faye disappeared only weeks after graduation and with a combination of looks, sex, and magic, she became one of the most sought-after models in the business - despite rumors of everything from porn roles to murder. She returned halfheartedly for any major rites - or when she needed a helping hand - but the coven was never quite the same. Still, they tried hard to hold on, despite the distance of going to various colleges, finding spouses, and all the little things involved in growing up.
The Henderson brothers never recovered from Kori's murder, though they tried for Cassie's sake to look like they had. Nevertheless, their mischief grew into vandalism and petty crime, and more than once Cassie and Adam drove them to the hospital for near-overdoses or alcohol poisoning. Sometimes, Cassie realized, everyone forgot how young they really were until it was too late. It was so easy to think of Chris and Doug as tough, resilient Lost Boys, or as powerful witches in a coven, but even easier to forget that they were also, more than anything else, two little boys who lost their sister.
But it was really when Sean died that everything fell apart. The killer was never found, and not even Cassie could tell whether the Henderson brothers' flippancy toward the murder was an admission of guilt or a defense against sadness. The tension between the coven members grew insurmountable, and though everyone managed to keep more or less in touch, the days when they would all meet on the beach for rituals ended. Diana slowly began to lose her faith in the basic goodness of people, and bit by bit she withdrew from the world; eventually, there was talk of sending her to a facility. In those days, Cassie often found herself wondering how someone she'd once seen as so strong could become so fragile. We're just children playing dress-up, her bitter thoughts would whisper to her when she lay awake at night. How did we ever think we could handle all this?
Suzan easily found work as a high-priced stylist and makeup consultant, and her job afforded her the luxury of staying in New Salem as often as she wanted; she traveled when necessary, and now and then she ran into Faye. Cassie could never tell how much of Suzan's reassurance that Faye was doing fabulously was truth and how much was kindhearted placation, but part of her was too afraid to question it.
Deb had found her calling - and her freedom - in bounty hunting, and though she still lived on Crowhaven with the others, she was very rarely home. Laurel also stayed behind, making a decent living with her herbs and recipes, while Melanie went off to a fantastic college as expected, and now worked in California at a fancy technological facility that involved keycards and security access codes. She wrote often, and insisted that soon, very soon, the need for paper letters would be eliminated, and she couldn't wait for that day. Nobody was exactly certain where Nick went or what he did, but he stuck to his promise to keep in touch, and Cassie regularly received postcards from all over the world; they weren't very descriptive, but they were a reassurance that he was still alive and healthy, and that was all she could really ask for. Sometimes he might turn up on her doorstep unannounced, and he and Adam would engage in a lighthearted rivalry for her attention throughout his stay.
Cassie and Adam led the least exciting lives of the lot, and after all that had happened, she reveled in the boring everydayness of being an adult with a tiny, cramped office and not enough vacation time. She and Adam had gone to a local college together, and with just the right touch of magic and determination, had both found good jobs in New Salem. Cassie's mother still lived with them, and though she stared wistfully out of windows and muttered to herself from time to time, she was more or less back to normal. She even began to take an interest in Cassie's talents in witchcraft, and the two would spend hours together working on spells, both new and old.
Lately, Adam had been bringing up the possibility of having a child, but Cassie always found herself holding back. The thought of somehow passing on Black John's evil terrified her, and though she knew it was irrational, she just couldn't help herself. And all of that, both great and small, was why Cassie now found herself in her office an hour before the end of her workday, frowning thoughtfully and poking a paperweight with the eraser end of a pencil. It really is silly, she told herself. He's my father, and I came out all right, didn't I? There's no reason to think I'm going to pop out Rosemary's baby.
Her eyes slowly unfocused, blurring her vision. The paperweight became a crystal blue blur shimmering in a field of grays and browns, and the pencil fell from Cassie's hand to the table, doing its part to add some color into the fuzzy mix. She felt a crackling in the air, a stirring of energy; something was changing all around her. Without moving, Cassie began to see new blurs in her field of vision, and the more they undulated and twisted, the less hope she had of her imagination playing tricks on her. Slowly, fear began to well up in her stomach, and she couldn't quite seem to focus again, or even to move. Oh god, please don't let him be back. We killed him, I know we did. Please don't let it be him. Please, Cassie mentally pleaded, not even knowing who her thoughts could possibly be addressing.
"Cassie!" a voice jolted her from her frozen state.
Blinking, Cassie looked around her and saw her office - but it wasn't quite her office. It was fuzzy and trembling, like looking through hot air, and everything had a soft glow about it that definitely didn't come from the cheap fluorescent lights normally illuminating the room. A second later, abandoning her bewilderment and remembering the fear she'd felt only moments ago, Cassie jumped up out of her chair, whirling around to find the source of the voice. Her movements came out sluggish and languid, though her thoughts were racing at their normal pace.
"Finally."
Standing before Cassie was a familiar figure. Mischievous black eyes met hers, waiting for a reply, but through her shock Cassie could muster none. For a moment, she felt like the old Cassie, always wishing for a witty remark but never quite mustering the courage for one.
"Sean..." she finally squeaked out, gathering her nerves.
"You think?" he smiled again, the same furtive smile she remembered.
"But you're dead. Am I dreaming this?" Cassie's voice trembled a little as she spoke, though she was beginning to relax.
"Yes. And no. I mean, yes I'm dead, and no you're not dreaming this. Not technically, anyway. It's all very hard to explain, you sort of have to've been dead to really get it," he replied casually.
Now that she had a minute to look at him, Cassie found herself noticing the differences between this Sean and the one she'd known before his death. He looked a bit older, or maybe just taller, and there was an air of wisdom about him that seemed almost alien. His black eyes shone like the polished stones on his belt, and he seemed to Cassie to exist at once as the annoying little brother figure she knew and fretted over, and as some kind of wild, exotic, timeless thing. It was jarring, and yet she felt no sense of danger when she looked at him.
"Sorry, you still look confused. I'm not very good at this, you know? I've been trying to get your attention for a while now, but I guess it's not as easy as it looks in horror movies. What's on your mind?"
He seemed utterly oblivious to the strangeness of the situation. Cassie's exasperation finally gave her back her voice.
"What do you MEAN what's on my mind, Sean? You're dead, but you're standing here talking to me like nothing's wrong. And you look weird. What's going on? If I'm not dreaming, then what are you doing here?" she blurted out, afraid her nerve would leave her again any minute.
"Oh, right. Well, I am dead, but I don't look weird, thanks very much. I just thought the rotting corpse look wasn't too appealing; I did make a few upgrades though. I always wanted to be taller. Whaddyou think?" he turned to the side and back, letting Cassie examine him.
"Now cut that out!" she exclaimed, almost wishing she could deck him. "Seriously, what's going on?"
Sean sighed. "You're not much fun these days, huh? I guess I can't blame you. Anyway, I'm here because I can't really get on and 'go into the light,'" he emphasized his point with melodramatic swooshing hand gestures, "and so I figured I'd hang around for a while instead. I've been watching all of you guys, and I really think it can still be fixed. I mean, I know it can still be fixed, because I can see it. But at the same time I can see it falling apart, or only going halfway, or never having been at all. You really should try this disembodied thing sometime - it's such a trip."
Cassie paused, giving up the thought of making sense from half of what Sean said and focusing on what she understood. "What can still be fixed?" she asked, hesitating.
"Oh, you know. Things. Everything. Don't give up, march on little soldier, things like that. Everyone looks so tired all the time, and some of you guys are so sad when you think no one's looking. You can't just stop, though. You can't stop living when it's convenient for you. Except," he paused to laugh, "Except if you're me, I guess. Then it's okay."
"It's not that easy," she murmured, sighing. "And if I could fix even just the coven, we still wouldn't have twelve. Not ever, not the same way."
The reality of Sean's death came flooding back all at once, and tears welled up in her eyes. She glanced down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze.
"Hey, don't be like that. It doesn't hurt or anything, being dead," Sean offered, the slightest hint of wryness entering his tone. "Besides, you're the leader, remember? We all had faith in you, and I think we all still do. You've just got to try a little harder for a while, make everyone pay attention again. If you look hard enough, you can see the strings that keep it all together. All you have to do is pull them in the right direction."
Encouragement was too much, and Cassie found she could no longer hold back her tears. "I'm so sorry, Sean. I always meant to treat you so much better, and then all of a sudden there was no more time, and I just didn't think-"
He interrupted her then without saying a word. It was simply a given, all of a sudden, that Cassie should stop talking. As she looked at him again, Cassie no longer saw the strange, alien Sean anymore - just little, slinking Sean who always wanted to be more and better, who just wanted someone to approve of him.
"Don't do that," he began. "It's okay, really. We had great times, and it was fun while it lasted. I wish it'd lasted longer, but it's okay that it didn't. You guys were - still are - my family, and not just because we're related. I wish I weren't stuck like this, in between here and there, but I'm stuck with you guys, and that's the next best thing."
There was a long pause before Cassie spoke again. "Sean, did Chris and Doug...?"
He smiled wryly. "Absolutely not. I just thought I'd try to be Adam for once, try to be the knight in shining armor, and I picked a fight I shouldn't have. There was this girl getting roughed up by a couple of jerks, and I wanted to save her. I think I did, because I remember her running away. I hope I did. Anyway, it was just more than I could handle, and you guys were too far away for me to call for help in time."
The calm, even sheepish, tone of this revelation threatened to make Cassie cry again. Instead, she leapt forward and hugged him, half-expecting to fly right through him in ghostly fashion. Sean was stunned, but eventually he returned her hug, and this time it was Cassie who hung on longer than appropriate.
"It was a very brave thing you did, even if it didn't work. Especially if it didn't work," she whispered.
"Thanks, Chief," he replied, laughing. "See you around."
And then she was on the floor of her office - her real, boring, normal office - with her mind full of cobwebs and her head pounding like mad. But it wasn't a dream, she resolved while picking herself up the floor.
***
"Mom!" Cassie squirmed. "I'm not a pincushion! I might look like one right now, but I'm not!"
"Well if you'd hold still, this would go much more smoothly," her mother replied in a suffering, patient tone reserved only for parents. "It certainly isn't my fault your regular shift won't fit you while you're pregnant. I'm not a tailor, but I'll do the best I can."
Scowling playfully, Cassie nevertheless made her best effort to hold still. It had been two months since her mother's initiation, and sure enough, they had twelve again. It'll count as thirteen if you keep kicking like that, she scoldingly thought, staring down at her pregnant belly. Things weren't quite like the first days of their coven, of course, but slowly, over months and months, everyone was beginning to come together again. Even Diana had regained her former brightness.
Two nights from now would be midsummer. October 31st, Cassie had long since learned, wasn't the only day of the year when the Powers peak and spirits roam free. Even the Master Tools would be brought out for their power during this ritual. There were no spells for helping a lost soul find its way in any family's book, so everyone contributed their knowledge to make one: Laurel found the proper herbs, Melanie charted out more correspondences than they could ever need, and even Faye quietly sent Cassie rare, unfathomably expensive stones she hadn't even thought to use, when Cassie was amazed that she would even be in attendance. Most importantly, her mother seemed to have regained some of her former power, and whenever a stumbling block was hit in the quest to perfect the rite, she would smile a quiet little smile and offer an idea, or a place to look, that would eventually lead them right to a solution.
"How do you do that?" she once asked her mother. "I just find the roads and point you to them," was her humble reply, and Cassie wondered how similar roads and strings were; her mother had, after all, been very close to death.
"You know," Cassie's mother mumbled thoughtfully, fiddling with the hem of Cassie's temporary shift. "I always liked midsummer. Anything can happen."
"Yeah," Cassie smiled gently, snapping out of her thoughts. "I certainly hope so."
author: Incanto
rating: PG
summary: "It wasn't long after Black John's defeat that things began to go downhill for the coven."
assignment: Cassie/Sean, Cassie has a 9-5 job, Cassie and her mom talk witchy stuff, canonworthy characters
notes: none
It wasn't long after Black John's defeat that things began to go downhill for the coven.
Faye disappeared only weeks after graduation and with a combination of looks, sex, and magic, she became one of the most sought-after models in the business - despite rumors of everything from porn roles to murder. She returned halfheartedly for any major rites - or when she needed a helping hand - but the coven was never quite the same. Still, they tried hard to hold on, despite the distance of going to various colleges, finding spouses, and all the little things involved in growing up.
The Henderson brothers never recovered from Kori's murder, though they tried for Cassie's sake to look like they had. Nevertheless, their mischief grew into vandalism and petty crime, and more than once Cassie and Adam drove them to the hospital for near-overdoses or alcohol poisoning. Sometimes, Cassie realized, everyone forgot how young they really were until it was too late. It was so easy to think of Chris and Doug as tough, resilient Lost Boys, or as powerful witches in a coven, but even easier to forget that they were also, more than anything else, two little boys who lost their sister.
But it was really when Sean died that everything fell apart. The killer was never found, and not even Cassie could tell whether the Henderson brothers' flippancy toward the murder was an admission of guilt or a defense against sadness. The tension between the coven members grew insurmountable, and though everyone managed to keep more or less in touch, the days when they would all meet on the beach for rituals ended. Diana slowly began to lose her faith in the basic goodness of people, and bit by bit she withdrew from the world; eventually, there was talk of sending her to a facility. In those days, Cassie often found herself wondering how someone she'd once seen as so strong could become so fragile. We're just children playing dress-up, her bitter thoughts would whisper to her when she lay awake at night. How did we ever think we could handle all this?
Suzan easily found work as a high-priced stylist and makeup consultant, and her job afforded her the luxury of staying in New Salem as often as she wanted; she traveled when necessary, and now and then she ran into Faye. Cassie could never tell how much of Suzan's reassurance that Faye was doing fabulously was truth and how much was kindhearted placation, but part of her was too afraid to question it.
Deb had found her calling - and her freedom - in bounty hunting, and though she still lived on Crowhaven with the others, she was very rarely home. Laurel also stayed behind, making a decent living with her herbs and recipes, while Melanie went off to a fantastic college as expected, and now worked in California at a fancy technological facility that involved keycards and security access codes. She wrote often, and insisted that soon, very soon, the need for paper letters would be eliminated, and she couldn't wait for that day. Nobody was exactly certain where Nick went or what he did, but he stuck to his promise to keep in touch, and Cassie regularly received postcards from all over the world; they weren't very descriptive, but they were a reassurance that he was still alive and healthy, and that was all she could really ask for. Sometimes he might turn up on her doorstep unannounced, and he and Adam would engage in a lighthearted rivalry for her attention throughout his stay.
Cassie and Adam led the least exciting lives of the lot, and after all that had happened, she reveled in the boring everydayness of being an adult with a tiny, cramped office and not enough vacation time. She and Adam had gone to a local college together, and with just the right touch of magic and determination, had both found good jobs in New Salem. Cassie's mother still lived with them, and though she stared wistfully out of windows and muttered to herself from time to time, she was more or less back to normal. She even began to take an interest in Cassie's talents in witchcraft, and the two would spend hours together working on spells, both new and old.
Lately, Adam had been bringing up the possibility of having a child, but Cassie always found herself holding back. The thought of somehow passing on Black John's evil terrified her, and though she knew it was irrational, she just couldn't help herself. And all of that, both great and small, was why Cassie now found herself in her office an hour before the end of her workday, frowning thoughtfully and poking a paperweight with the eraser end of a pencil. It really is silly, she told herself. He's my father, and I came out all right, didn't I? There's no reason to think I'm going to pop out Rosemary's baby.
Her eyes slowly unfocused, blurring her vision. The paperweight became a crystal blue blur shimmering in a field of grays and browns, and the pencil fell from Cassie's hand to the table, doing its part to add some color into the fuzzy mix. She felt a crackling in the air, a stirring of energy; something was changing all around her. Without moving, Cassie began to see new blurs in her field of vision, and the more they undulated and twisted, the less hope she had of her imagination playing tricks on her. Slowly, fear began to well up in her stomach, and she couldn't quite seem to focus again, or even to move. Oh god, please don't let him be back. We killed him, I know we did. Please don't let it be him. Please, Cassie mentally pleaded, not even knowing who her thoughts could possibly be addressing.
"Cassie!" a voice jolted her from her frozen state.
Blinking, Cassie looked around her and saw her office - but it wasn't quite her office. It was fuzzy and trembling, like looking through hot air, and everything had a soft glow about it that definitely didn't come from the cheap fluorescent lights normally illuminating the room. A second later, abandoning her bewilderment and remembering the fear she'd felt only moments ago, Cassie jumped up out of her chair, whirling around to find the source of the voice. Her movements came out sluggish and languid, though her thoughts were racing at their normal pace.
"Finally."
Standing before Cassie was a familiar figure. Mischievous black eyes met hers, waiting for a reply, but through her shock Cassie could muster none. For a moment, she felt like the old Cassie, always wishing for a witty remark but never quite mustering the courage for one.
"Sean..." she finally squeaked out, gathering her nerves.
"You think?" he smiled again, the same furtive smile she remembered.
"But you're dead. Am I dreaming this?" Cassie's voice trembled a little as she spoke, though she was beginning to relax.
"Yes. And no. I mean, yes I'm dead, and no you're not dreaming this. Not technically, anyway. It's all very hard to explain, you sort of have to've been dead to really get it," he replied casually.
Now that she had a minute to look at him, Cassie found herself noticing the differences between this Sean and the one she'd known before his death. He looked a bit older, or maybe just taller, and there was an air of wisdom about him that seemed almost alien. His black eyes shone like the polished stones on his belt, and he seemed to Cassie to exist at once as the annoying little brother figure she knew and fretted over, and as some kind of wild, exotic, timeless thing. It was jarring, and yet she felt no sense of danger when she looked at him.
"Sorry, you still look confused. I'm not very good at this, you know? I've been trying to get your attention for a while now, but I guess it's not as easy as it looks in horror movies. What's on your mind?"
He seemed utterly oblivious to the strangeness of the situation. Cassie's exasperation finally gave her back her voice.
"What do you MEAN what's on my mind, Sean? You're dead, but you're standing here talking to me like nothing's wrong. And you look weird. What's going on? If I'm not dreaming, then what are you doing here?" she blurted out, afraid her nerve would leave her again any minute.
"Oh, right. Well, I am dead, but I don't look weird, thanks very much. I just thought the rotting corpse look wasn't too appealing; I did make a few upgrades though. I always wanted to be taller. Whaddyou think?" he turned to the side and back, letting Cassie examine him.
"Now cut that out!" she exclaimed, almost wishing she could deck him. "Seriously, what's going on?"
Sean sighed. "You're not much fun these days, huh? I guess I can't blame you. Anyway, I'm here because I can't really get on and 'go into the light,'" he emphasized his point with melodramatic swooshing hand gestures, "and so I figured I'd hang around for a while instead. I've been watching all of you guys, and I really think it can still be fixed. I mean, I know it can still be fixed, because I can see it. But at the same time I can see it falling apart, or only going halfway, or never having been at all. You really should try this disembodied thing sometime - it's such a trip."
Cassie paused, giving up the thought of making sense from half of what Sean said and focusing on what she understood. "What can still be fixed?" she asked, hesitating.
"Oh, you know. Things. Everything. Don't give up, march on little soldier, things like that. Everyone looks so tired all the time, and some of you guys are so sad when you think no one's looking. You can't just stop, though. You can't stop living when it's convenient for you. Except," he paused to laugh, "Except if you're me, I guess. Then it's okay."
"It's not that easy," she murmured, sighing. "And if I could fix even just the coven, we still wouldn't have twelve. Not ever, not the same way."
The reality of Sean's death came flooding back all at once, and tears welled up in her eyes. She glanced down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze.
"Hey, don't be like that. It doesn't hurt or anything, being dead," Sean offered, the slightest hint of wryness entering his tone. "Besides, you're the leader, remember? We all had faith in you, and I think we all still do. You've just got to try a little harder for a while, make everyone pay attention again. If you look hard enough, you can see the strings that keep it all together. All you have to do is pull them in the right direction."
Encouragement was too much, and Cassie found she could no longer hold back her tears. "I'm so sorry, Sean. I always meant to treat you so much better, and then all of a sudden there was no more time, and I just didn't think-"
He interrupted her then without saying a word. It was simply a given, all of a sudden, that Cassie should stop talking. As she looked at him again, Cassie no longer saw the strange, alien Sean anymore - just little, slinking Sean who always wanted to be more and better, who just wanted someone to approve of him.
"Don't do that," he began. "It's okay, really. We had great times, and it was fun while it lasted. I wish it'd lasted longer, but it's okay that it didn't. You guys were - still are - my family, and not just because we're related. I wish I weren't stuck like this, in between here and there, but I'm stuck with you guys, and that's the next best thing."
There was a long pause before Cassie spoke again. "Sean, did Chris and Doug...?"
He smiled wryly. "Absolutely not. I just thought I'd try to be Adam for once, try to be the knight in shining armor, and I picked a fight I shouldn't have. There was this girl getting roughed up by a couple of jerks, and I wanted to save her. I think I did, because I remember her running away. I hope I did. Anyway, it was just more than I could handle, and you guys were too far away for me to call for help in time."
The calm, even sheepish, tone of this revelation threatened to make Cassie cry again. Instead, she leapt forward and hugged him, half-expecting to fly right through him in ghostly fashion. Sean was stunned, but eventually he returned her hug, and this time it was Cassie who hung on longer than appropriate.
"It was a very brave thing you did, even if it didn't work. Especially if it didn't work," she whispered.
"Thanks, Chief," he replied, laughing. "See you around."
And then she was on the floor of her office - her real, boring, normal office - with her mind full of cobwebs and her head pounding like mad. But it wasn't a dream, she resolved while picking herself up the floor.
***
"Mom!" Cassie squirmed. "I'm not a pincushion! I might look like one right now, but I'm not!"
"Well if you'd hold still, this would go much more smoothly," her mother replied in a suffering, patient tone reserved only for parents. "It certainly isn't my fault your regular shift won't fit you while you're pregnant. I'm not a tailor, but I'll do the best I can."
Scowling playfully, Cassie nevertheless made her best effort to hold still. It had been two months since her mother's initiation, and sure enough, they had twelve again. It'll count as thirteen if you keep kicking like that, she scoldingly thought, staring down at her pregnant belly. Things weren't quite like the first days of their coven, of course, but slowly, over months and months, everyone was beginning to come together again. Even Diana had regained her former brightness.
Two nights from now would be midsummer. October 31st, Cassie had long since learned, wasn't the only day of the year when the Powers peak and spirits roam free. Even the Master Tools would be brought out for their power during this ritual. There were no spells for helping a lost soul find its way in any family's book, so everyone contributed their knowledge to make one: Laurel found the proper herbs, Melanie charted out more correspondences than they could ever need, and even Faye quietly sent Cassie rare, unfathomably expensive stones she hadn't even thought to use, when Cassie was amazed that she would even be in attendance. Most importantly, her mother seemed to have regained some of her former power, and whenever a stumbling block was hit in the quest to perfect the rite, she would smile a quiet little smile and offer an idea, or a place to look, that would eventually lead them right to a solution.
"How do you do that?" she once asked her mother. "I just find the roads and point you to them," was her humble reply, and Cassie wondered how similar roads and strings were; her mother had, after all, been very close to death.
"You know," Cassie's mother mumbled thoughtfully, fiddling with the hem of Cassie's temporary shift. "I always liked midsummer. Anything can happen."
"Yeah," Cassie smiled gently, snapping out of her thoughts. "I certainly hope so."