This one's a lot rougher than my first story. There's a lot of repetitive emotion, but I needed to write it. I'm still working on a better title and I'm not totally thrilled with it, but here goes...
Hope you lot enjoy and reviews/feedback are always 3
XOXOXOXO
Something was changing for Ingrid and she wasn't sure who to talk to about it. Okay, so maybe she knew that going to her mom was the smart choice, talking to her aunt would be the comforting safe choice, and turning to Freya was better than not turning to anyone at all, but a part of her wasn't ready to share just yet. Her mother would be smart, her aunt would be safe, and there was something about turning to your sister that was its own brand of comfort. She was afraid that if she told anyone about them, the visions might stop. She wasn't ready to let go of those glimpses just yet.
Ingrid knew that she should be leery of learning too much of her past. She'd already had a taste of what her former lives had been like when she'd made the brownies and it hadn't been all good. Not to mention, her sister had let the need to learn about her own past nearly turn into an addiction.
This was different, she kept reminding herself. She hadn't done anything to warrant the flashes of her old life. There had to be a reason for them. Maybe there was something important in her memories that she needed to remember. Always the curious one, it was hard not to want to indulge in learning more. She loved history and the fact that it was her own made it much more intriguing. As a rational skeptic, she'd never believed in past lives or anything like reincarnation, but here it was in curse form. She wanted to know more, but it was scary too and starting to affect her present.
She sighed heavily as she looked at herself in the mirror. It had been a long day and all she wanted was a shower to clear the haze she'd been under lately. Ingrid may not have wanted the visions to stop, but they were still exhausting. As she finished brushing her hair, she noted how tired she looked. She told herself that all she needed was a good night's rest. She'd deal with the rest in the morning.
After the shower, Ingrid did feel better. She even realized she was a little bit hungry, having skipped dinner. It seemed that over the past week she hadn't had much of an appetite at all. Ingrid decided that she needed to spend a little bit more time in the present and stop looking for answers in the past. If she was remembering for a reason it would surface soon enough. There wasn't anything she felt safe enough to do to try and force it. The best thing would be to just let it happen on its own accord.
Heading downstairs, she found Wendy reading cards on the kitchen table. It was becoming a familiar sight. Ingrid leaned against the door frame and smiled at the scene before her. It was a comfort to have her aunt in their lives, even if Ingrid was still all mixed up about their past. She loved her family and after seeing some of their moments throughout several lifetimes she realized how much she appreciated having them all together in this lifetime once again. It was hard to fathom that only a few months ago neither she nor Freya even knew their aunt.
Wendy smiled, sensing the younger woman watching her. "There's a sandwich on the counter for you," she said without looking. "Grilled cheese with pickles," she added, turning to meet the younger woman's gaze. It was Ingrid's favorite next to PB&J (strawberry only, never grape) and she was pleased to see the goofy grin that Ingrid broke into.
The younger woman's eyes darted to the kitchen and then back to her aunt shyly. "I guess there are some perks to you being able to sense so much about me," she said, not wanting the words to sound as harsh as they did. Ingrid new it was equal parts intuition and history that her aunt had the luxury of not forgetting, but it left her feeling ten steps behind, always. She was used to her mom always knowing more, but this was different. Wendy hadn't always been in their lives, but she would always know more.
Wendy's smile lost some of its brightness, but she nodded knowingly. "I'm not trying to pry when I sense things, it just happens. As far as other things go, like knowing what sandwiches you like - that just comes from experience. You're steadfast in your favorites no matter the lifetime." She picked up the cards and began to shuffle them. "Now, go get your sandwich and come keep me company for a little bit. After all, I seem to recall that I tend to rank up there on your favorites list. Unless something has changed this time around."
"Not at all," Ingrid said quickly. "I just need time to adjust to the fact that you, like mom, will always know more about me than I know about you." She headed to the kitchen before Wendy could respond.
A few moments later Ingrid came back in, carrying a plate and a glass of ginger ale. She normally avoided soda, but ginger ale was always oddly comforting to her. "Thank you Aunt Wendy," she said with complete sincerity.
Wendy caught her chin in her hand before Ingrid could look away. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you," she said pointedly. Even with Ingrid's small nod of acknowledgment, she kept her hold on the girl for a moment longer. Something had shifted between she and her niece. She still wasn't sure what it was. Wendy didn't like the distance and may have nudged Ingrid's hunger just a little, in order to have this quiet moment with her.
Ingrid stilled at the intensity of the moment; she always did. Sometimes her aunt could be so brutally honest that it physically hurt. It was hard for her to hear the emotion in her voice during those moments - hard to believe someone cared so fiercely that they could make her feel it with words alone. All it took was that fiery gaze to fall on her and she stilled, knowing that they shared a bond that was more than just family.
She nodded once more, fighting off the tears that threatened to well in her eyes. Pulling away gently, she took a bite of her sandwich, the creamy taste of cheese contrasting with the sourness of the pickles, that still had enough texture to almost crunch. It was distracting; it was real. It kept her grounded. Ingrid felt her body begin to relax once more, as she let the moment settle around her. "What answers are you looking for tonight?" she asked, nodding towards the cards.
It was Wendy's turn to smile a bit sadly. "Well, I've been trying to figure out what happened between us, that's got you pulling away and shutting me out." Her tone wasn't accusing, but the hurt and frustration were evident. "This time I may be prying just a little bit," she said, trying to lighten the moment.
The younger woman swallowed the bite of sandwich she'd just taken and her brow crinkled as she thought of how to respond. "Aunt Wendy, there's just a lot on my mind lately. It's not anything personal. I'm just tired and..."
Her excuses fizzled out at Wendy's unchanging expression. It was no use, even if they had been legitimate her aunt wouldn't be placated by excuses and reasoning. When she saw a problem it was her instinct to fix it. That was especially true when it came to family.
"Ingrid," Wendy sighed, reaching over to play with a strand of her niece's hair. "You don't need to justify it. If there's a problem between us or I've done something to upset you I just want to sort it out. It's not good for any of us to be at odds with each other right now, but more than that I don't want there to be anything between us. What happened to the way that you used to look at me? All I see in your eyes now is pain and emptiness," she asked. Her voice was raw with emotion.
Ingrid knew it was true and she wished she'd been able to hide it better. Ever since the memories started coming back to her she had distanced herself from everyone, especially Wendy. She hadn't meant to hurt anyone; she was just trying to learn how to protect herself and make sense of everything. It was difficult though. At least with her mom and Freya she had more recent memories to counter her insecurities and doubts.
In so many lifetimes she had been adored by her aunt. This time around was no different. She knew it every time her aunt looked at her, but she was different. She could feel it. Every time Ingrid saw herself in past lives she was intimidated by those differences. Despite how ardently her mother and aunt tried to convince her that she was the same person, she had seen the truth - felt it. That girl from her past was so much stronger and well put together. She always knew who she was and what she was doing. She was talented and owned the space she occupied with a sense of confidence that Ingrid couldn't imagine having towards herself. She felt that even with all the pieces coming together in her mind she couldn't be more lost.
She nodded and took a deep breath, preparing to face the situation. "There has been something different, but it's not you. A lot has been going on and I didn't want to tell anyone, but maybe it's time. Just… can we move to my room please? I'm not ready for everyone to know and it would be easier to talk in there." It didn't matter to her that talking in here alone, was no less safer than talking behind the closed door of her room. Her family had a way of not keeping secrets for long. She just wanted to be some place she felt safe. Ingrid had always liked to be tucked away in some version of comfort.
Wendy breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. She felt like Ingrid was coming back to her, if only in pieces. "Of course. We could go to the moon and back if it meant you'd talk to me. I just want to help and I want my Ingrid back." She tugged gently on the strand of hair before letting it go.
Ingrid felt her stomach drop and started to move instantly, forgetting about the sandwich and her hunger. Despite her trepidation about her relationship with her aunt, she couldn't help but want to fix things too. She'd been hiding away to protect herself, but she'd forgotten how much better her aunt could make her feel in just a few moments.
"No you don't," Wendy chided, "Finish your sandwich first, then we'll talk." She hopped down from the table and tucked her cards away in the cabinet next to her sister's. She grabbed Ingrid's glass and took it to the kitchen to refill it and make herself one.
Ingrid quickly finished her sandwich and headed into the kitchen to put her plate in the sink. Smiling, Wendy handed her back her glass and grabbed her hand. "Come along then, I for one could use a little bonding time with my wonderful niece."
The newly formed tension leave her shoulders and Ingrid knew she was as ready as she'd ever be. There was so much she wanted to say, but if she started out with the gratitude she'd never get to the actual point. She just squeezed her aunt's hand in silent thanks and trailed behind her.
By the time they reached her room, Ingrid was a bit shaky and feeling shy. She knew she had nothing to worry about with Wendy, but there was so much to explain that it seemed a bit overwhelming. Especially the parts about admitting how weak and helpless she felt.
"Sweetie, it's just me," Wendy said with a knowing look. She sat down on the bed and tugged Ingrid down next to her. She didn't let go of her hand, but quietly waited for the other woman to open up.
Ingrid couldn't form the words to begin. She looked at Wendy helplessly and started to apologize, but then quickly sputtered out the truth. "I've been remembering my past lives and not on purpose this time. They just keep coming to me. When I'm asleep, in the middle of the day, it seems like all the time something new is coming back to me," she said, voice quivering with nervous energy.
Looking truly surprised, Wendy took both of her nieces hands in her own and cautiously responded, "Well that's new. This isn't because of anything you did, right? Like the brownies?"
Ingrid shook her head. "No, after last time I wasn't sure I wanted to remember anything else, but now it seems that I don't have much choice. I'm so scared of what I'm going to find out."
Wendy tilted her head to the side and shook her head at her niece. "Honey you have nothing to worry about. As far as bad things from the past, we've all got plenty of those, but you know we've taken care of mostly all of them by now. We'll deal with the rest if need be. I get the feeling those aren't what you're afraid of though."
Despite her discomfort, Ingrid broke into the same smile she did when she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to – amusement that she couldn't hide things from the people she cared about. "No, it's not those. It's just me. I guess I'm having a little trouble reconciling who I was with who I am."
Wendy nodded, imagining how disconcerting that could be. "You've always been an amazing person. There won't be anything you've said or done to be afraid of." Wendy held such compassion for her niece that she tried to convey that with words she spoke next. "If you could only see yourself through my eyes."
"Maybe part of the problem is that I have," Ingrid sighed and looked away. "It's just that - seeing how I was, before – from an outsider's perspective, it's a lot to live up to. Life after life I see this girl that looks like me, but I don't recognize her. I'm nothing like the person I've been and that in itself is terrifying. She's strong and confident in almost everything she does and I can't even handle the memories without being afraid. Did I do something wrong? Why am I not like that anymore?"
Wendy had her own theories about that, but wasn't going to trouble Ingrid with them. They didn't matter in this moment and they weren't anything that could be fixed. It was one less thing for Ingrid to worry about. "You're reading too much into this. I'm guessing that the moments that are coming back to you are the impacting ones, the ones of high intensity or danger. You're seeing huge moments and comparing them to everyday life." She squeezed Ingrid's hands gently and tried to will the younger woman to relax.
Ingrid sat up a little straighter. "It's hard to tell, they're all jumbled up and not in any order that I can tell. Some of them become clearer, but only after I get several moments of similar time. Even though they're technically not my memories they're splashing over into my life now. It's hard to separate the emotions."
Wendy sat back for a moment absorbing the new information. It all explained Ingrid's distraction lately, but it still didn't quite explain why she'd pulled back so much. She knew that Ingrid already remembered the worst moment between them and that discomfort had passed already. It felt like this new rift was from something specific, not just generally feeling overwhelmed. "Tell me about one of the memories that scares you? Please?"
This was important, why they were there. It didn't make the idea of opening up any less daunting. Ingrid looked down at their entwined hands for a moment and fidgeted nervously as she looked for the right words. This was exactly why she'd agreed to talk to Wendy. She needed to open up and if she were going to have her as an alley in this, she needed to let her in.
Seeing how nervous her niece was, Wendy stayed still and quiet, just letting Ingrid take the moment she needed. She tried to send comforting energy her way, but knew this was something stronger. At this point, she could only help if Ingrid let her.
Ingrid looked up into her eyes, seeking the reassurance that she'd always sought for as a child. It was then that Wendy really understood how innocent this incarnation of her niece really was. She hadn't just been shielded from her magical ability, but from so many other things as well. She hadn't had the opportunity to find herself and really grow into who she could be. Instead, she'd been somewhat overlooked because she was the more cautious of the girls, especially in this lifetime.
Her sister's spell to cloak the girl's magic had worked a little too well. Ingrid hadn't just forgotten, she'd somehow known all along that something was missing. Not in the same way Freya had always known. It was something more personal, something that had made her feel like less. That 'less' she had rationalized into something she deserved and had lived accordingly, with the weight always trying her in every decision she made.
After a breath, Ingrid looked away and quietly began. "It's hard to see something play out that I don't remember experiencing. All the memories crash over me and I have to learn how to rationalize them with my current reality, but without the full experience, because I don't always get enough to understand them or put them in context. It's like getting bits and pieces of incredibly strong emotions and not understanding why."
Wendy hurt for her niece and wondered how many of these memories had to do with the time she had accidently killed Ingrid. Even though she was certain that wasn't the problem. They had already talked about it, but it was always something she still felt sensitive too, despite her attempts at nonchalance.
"Some of the strongest memories that stick with me are the ones that involve you," she blushed a bit admitting this, but her aunt's knowing smile pushed her forward. "I guess I've always been a little enamored with you." She had long recognized the feelings of admiration and hero-worship even before the memories began to surface. Wendy wasn't just a skilled witch, she was an amazing person. More than anything though, when she looked at Ingrid, she felt like her aunt actually saw her. Her mom and her sister knew she was there of course, but there was something different. They saw her as how she fit within their family; Wendy saw her as who she could be as her own entity.
"The feelings are mutual, I promise. Don't tell your mom or sister, but you've always been my favorite," she confided, nudging Ingrid's shoulder with her own. "Of course I love them very much, but it's different with you. Freya and I have always bonded over our similar natures and your mom of course is very dear to me, but you Ingrid - you're a force to be reckoned with. It's hard not to admire all the things you've accomplished and done over the years. It doesn't matter if you can't face that just yet; I know who you are and I promise you're amazing."
Ingrid looked down to her lap in confusion. She trusted Wendy, but so much of the other woman's reasoning seemed to relay on her past and her talents. She had to be more than just all that. She wanted to be more. If the was the an accumulation of all her lives, what did that really say about her – that she was really a scared little bookworm, complacent in being in the background of her families lives and desperate for something normal and boring or that she was running from who she was out of the fear that grew inside her every day.
"Ingrid," Wendy said softly, dragging out her name. "You are my heart," she nearly whispered, pain evident in her voice. She brought Ingrid's hand to rest against her heart and continued. "You always make me remember that doing the right thing is more important than doing the easy thing; you keep us all accountable. You've been like my little shadow throughout your lives, trailing behind me like I'm the amazing one, but you've always taught me more than I could ever teach you – and not just about magic, but about life and love. You have such a big heart, but you're not naïve."
Ingrid rose to her feet quickly and began to pace about her room nervously. She wanted to just be comforted by her aunt's words, but she was afraid to give in. She was afraid that if she let the happiness find her, she would lose it. All her life she had been afraid to take compliments or comfort for fear that they weren't really sincere. She had learned long ago not to depend on others, no matter how much she just wanted to connect with them.
Wendy came to block her nieces trail and dropped both hands to the younger woman's shoulders, cupping her face. "You Ingrid, you have always been my anchor. I know you said you can't worry about that now, but the truth is honey, that when I'm on the edge of insanity, you always find a way to save me. It's not about powers or ability. It's about something deeper than I can explain. When I lose myself, you always find a way to fill in those gaps. You've trusted me before and I've always tried to keep you close and keep you safe, but some things you have to learn for yourself. I can't convince you of any of this, but I hope you remember it when things get hard."
Crying now, Ingrid wrapped her arms around her aunt and buried her face against her shoulder. She held on tight, as sobs wracked her body and didn't even notice as Wendy guided them back to the bed, hand in her hair, keeping her close. Her other hand wrapped around her niece's shoulder in a protective stance. "I've got you," she promised, not letting go.
Pulling back so she could talk, Ingrid finally began to show her vulnerability. Her eyes were red from crying and she didn't try to stop the shaking of her hands or hide her need to be close. She held onto her aunt's hand as if it were her lifeline. She was still afraid that if she let go, it would all be taken from her."After I died…" Ingrid hesitated, hating to bring up the time she'd been killed by Wendy. Her aunt nodded in understanding and she continued, "I think it was the next life. We met. Freya and mom didn't know, but you were there – keeping an eye on me when I traveled. All that time ago you said you'd be back, that you just needed to give the situation time, but that you'd always be there for me. You never came, even to me. Now I just kept hoping you'd notice me the way you used to. Everyone else always just look right over my shoulder?"
Wendy was floored by the truth. She had let Ingrid down in more ways than she'd realized. "You're right. I always meant to return sooner, but sometimes it's easier to leave than it is to stay. Your mother wouldn't speak to me for decades and I thought that was the only way to be permanently back. I can't tell you how hard it was to stay away, knowing how much time I was losing with you girls. I did keep tabs on you, but I never opened myself up like that to you again. I wanted to… I understand if you're not ready to forgive me and I get why you've stopped trusting me, but I am truly sorry. I thought because you'd forget it didn't matter. You always forgot and now that you're remembering, well… " She couldn't keep making excuses, she hadn't been there, even when she'd said she would.
Ingrid shook her head and really looked at her aunt. "It's not about forgiveness. I felt like it took you forever to notice me. Looking back on those lifetimes without you, I realize that a part of me unconsciously always wondered if I was invisible. You were a part of me that was missing. You may say that I'm your anchor, but I think maybe you're my strength. You don't need my forgiveness, just make it right. Be here with me now, in this lifetime."
"Oh Ingrid, of course - and for the record, I always noticed you. I wasn't the only one. Your mom and your sister love you in their own way too, don't forget that." Wendy pulled the younger woman to her in a too tight embrace. She was crying now too. She felt Ingrid squeeze back with equal fervor and they stayed like that for some time. "You have such a kind and gentle spirit. It's healing to the rest of us. If you want to understand that girl you see, I promise - you just need to be yourself. Don't ever change. Not for me; not for anybody."
"You came awfully close to telling me I had the power all along," Ingrid said, trying to sound serious. She felt her aunt's arms loosen, but not let go, and she relaxed against her. "On a serious note though, thank you - for everything."
"Ingrid," Wendy said, exasperated, "Don't thank me. Just know that I will do everything I can to fix this. I won't let you down again." She let her fingers glide through her niece's hair and found comfort in the way Ingrid still trusted her without hesitation.
They stayed like that until they were too tired to stay awake any longer. "I should let you get some sleep," Ingrid said, yawning as she pulled back. "I didn't mean to keep us up half the night." She was trying to do the right thing, but she wasn't really sure if she wanted to let go of this moment just yet. It finally felt like everything was falling into place and that even managed to make the magic feel a little more natural for her.
Wendy just smiled at her knowingly. "Always the responsible one. Alright, come on then little one," she said patting the space next to her. "After all that, I'm not quite ready to let go of you just yet. I have lifetimes to make up for." She pulled the covers down and patted the spot next to her.
Ingrid didn't bother trying to argue that she didn't want any sort of contrition; she just wanted to move forward, the way they should have been all along. She knew her aunt was only teasing in the way that you joke about something you're trying to handle. Without another word she moved towards the head of the bed and curled up under the sheets.
Wendy turned the light off, as she moved under the covers and wrapped an arm around Ingrid. Drifting off to sleep she realized she felt lighter than she had in years. Things were going to be just fine.