A/N: Standard disclaimer applies - not my show, characters (except for one in later chapters), or AU. This AU is a collaboration with Eli, who likes to make me sob in public places like Constance Langdon. Thanks for that, homie.
"Mamaaaaa," a shrill voice echoed off the walls of the expansive building that was known as Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies and into the ears of a cringing Fiona Goode.
The Supreme, who was resting on her stomach in bed still, seeing as it was barely light outside, buried her face into the fluffy pillow beneath her, willing the grating cries for her attention to stop, but she knew they wouldn't without her response. A clash of guilt and irritation swirled inside of her, making her queasy. She was desperately trying to be a better mother, if only to appease the gracious Myrtle Snow who had allowed Fiona and her young daughter, Cordelia, to remain there even though Fiona was far from the age of being a student.
Myrtle was the headmistress of the academy where the two had first become friends as young girls. They had a bout of distrust with each other when Fiona initially became the Supreme under questionable circumstances, but Myrtle eventually forgave her and tried to uphold a sense of friendship since she felt she had no real choice in the matter. In her mind, you were either on the Supreme's side, or you weren't. And being in the latter position would not bode well for the redhead.
For several years that neared into decades, Fiona enjoyed her young adulthood abroad with attractive men who thought she ruled the world. In her mind, she did. Nights (and often days) were spent intoxicated and drugged, and all the while clothed in the finest designer threads. The time for her reign came to an end once she found out she was pregnant, though. Fiona had a quick marriage to the child's father, and eventually when the relationship soured, she returned on the doorstep of the academy in the middle of the night with a wailing infant in her arms. Most mothers her age had children in junior high, not kindergarten, something that had bothered the Supreme immensely as she was always focused on her image. Unable to think of anywhere else to go, Fiona knew that if anyone could help her, Myrtle could.
Myrtle didn't hesitate to welcome the two with open arms. Always a bleeding heart for those in need, Myrtle insisted that Fiona take her larger bedroom so that Cordelia's crib could be placed with her. Sometimes Myrtle was too giving, Fiona thought as the persistent calls continued.
"Alright, alright...I'm up, Delia," Fiona rasped with a slight tinge of annoyance in her Southern lilt as she rolled over to climb off of the bed. She slid her feet into her slippers, and shuffled over to the small bed with a yawn, exhausted from caring for the young child at her age. Resting on the small bed, she reached over to smooth her palm over the young blonde's head, brushing the strands from her eyes. "It's not time to wake up, what is it...?"
"Mama, I wan' Auntie Myrtle tuh read me story," the young girl said with a sleepy smile.
"Oh, Delia, no...we're not waking Auntie Myrtle up. It's too early. Now c'mon, go back to sleep." Fiona tucked the blankets around Cordelia's small frame.
"B-b-but, I not sleepy..." Cordelia's voice was wavering, and her eyes filled with tears at her mother's lack of cooperation.
"Too bad, this is not a debate. Go. Back. To. Sleep." Each word was punctuated with a rise in her anger level as Fiona stood from the small bed with a huff. As much as she loved the little girl, Fiona had never held the same level of patience that Myrtle did for the girl's requests for bedtime stories and playtime. It was not to say she was a terrible mother; she made sure Cordelia ate, received the proper level of education for a young child, and that she was safe. The Supreme was not one to bow to a child's wishes for frivolous desires, even if the child came from her own womb. The guilt still lingered for lacking these certain maternal instincts, but a small part of her was relieved that Myrtle could cover these bases for her on occasion. However, the middle of the night was all on Fiona since Myrtle was likely sound asleep.
As Fiona walked back to her own bed, Cordelia let out a shriek that caused Fiona to whirl around and nearly strike her child with her palm. Instead, she balled her hands into fists so tight her nails dug into her skin and she grimaced in pain from the combination of self-harm and the wailing Cordelia. "Stop it! Stop crying, Delia! Right now!" Her own voice rose a few octaves to overcompensate for the child's screaming.
One of the doors to Fiona's room swished open, causing her to divert her attention to the person who opened it. Myrtle. Shit.
"What on earth is going on?!" Myrtle waved a hand to turn a light on, and strode over to Cordelia's bed as she glanced over to Fiona. "Delia, oh, my little bird, come here," Myrtle said with a soothing voice. She sat on the edge of the girl's bed, and swept the small child into her arms on her lap, holding her to her chest. "Oh, what is the matter, my darling?"
Seething with guilt and anger, lately the most common combination of emotions for her, Fiona stood with clenched fists, watching the two from a few feet away. She tried to control her breathing, eyes narrowed and starting to gloss over with frustrated tears.
"M-m-mama...she not read me a story," Cordelia managed to sputter throughout her sobbing, her small hands clutching Myrtle's robe. It was one of Delia's favorites as it held every color of the rainbow. She smeared her wet cheek against Myrtle's chest, dark brown eyes looking toward Fiona with sadness.
Myrtle let out a slow sigh as she shifted her gaze to Fiona and then back go Cordelia. "Sweet child, I promise I will read you a story first thing in the morning, okay? But for now, can you sleep for a little while for Auntie Myrtle? Hmm?" She tickled her fingertips under the girl's chin and smiled, before pulling her close for a hug.
Cordelia giggled, nuzzling her head against Myrtle's chest. "'kay, I go sleep." Small arms encircled Myrtle's waist as far as they could stretch and Cordelia hugged the witch she lovingly referred to as her auntie. After Myrtle returned the hug with just as much warmth, Cordelia climbed back under her blankets and let herself be tucked in by Myrtle.
Watching the scene in front of her, Fiona brushed the back of her right hand against her eyes and turned away, not wanting the display of emotion to be seen by the woman who portrayed motherhood better than she could. She walked back to her bed slowly, covering her face with both hands. Why the hell couldn't Delia respond to her the same way? What was she doing wrong? She heard Cordelia's bed shift with movement and expected Myrtle to exit the room but was startled slightly when the woman came up behind her.
"It's alright, darling, it'll get easier," Myrtle whispered into Fiona's ear. She waved a hand to turn the lights off to shroud them in darkness.
"And if it doesn't?" Fiona held back a sob that threatened to escape with the whispered question.
"It will, I promise."
At Myrtle's response, Fiona turned and fell into the woman's arms, mirroring her small daughter's earlier actions. She pressed her cheek to Myrtle's shoulder and let out a quiet sob. "Oh Myr, I'm an awful mother, just awful," she whispered. "I can't even talk to her properly."
Sliding a palm over Fiona's back several times, Myrtle held the Supreme tightly against her, grateful that she couldn't see the flush in her cheeks. "Shh, it's alright. Here, I'll help you..."
She released the woman and guided Fiona to Cordelia's bed, lowering them both to kneel on the floor next to it. For a moment they watched the girl in the darkness as she slept soundly, her arms holding a stuffed animal to her chest.
An arm slung low around Fiona's waist, Myrtle kept her voice quiet, a whisper that tickled Fiona's ear.
"When you talk to her...tell her...'I love you more than the whole world.' Go on, say it," she urged.
Fiona sighed and whispered, "I...love you more than the whole world."
"'You're the most beautiful baby.' Tell her how beautiful she is."
"You're so beautiful, Delia," Fiona whispered, lifting a hand to briefly graze the sleeping girl's cheek.
Myrtle smiled slightly at the gesture completed without instruction. "Now say, 'I'll never leave you. I'll be your mother...until you die.' Tell her." Still whispering, Myrtle squeezed her slender fingers on Fiona's waist as they remained kneeling at Cordelia's bedside.
The pause grew long as Fiona's breath hitched in her throat. "I'll never...leave you. I'll be your mother...until the day you...die." The last word was not even qualified to be a whisper.
"Tell her again."
Fiona nearly choked as she clasped a hand over her mouth to mute the sob that was almost expelled. Slowly, her hand lowered. "I'll...be your mother until you die, my darlin' Delia," she whispered.
As Fiona turned to Myrtle she was a little surprised to see the witch had leaned closer to her, eyes affixed in her direction. She wiped at her eyes with her fingertips, glancing down between them, and was definitely not expecting Myrtle's lips to come crashing against her own as she looked back up again. Her lips were warm and dry, but not painfully so, and tasted faintly of the key lime pie she had ate before bed. She felt Myrtle's fingers dig into her side gently, and let her lips part slightly, partially by surprise. Frozen by the act, Fiona didn't move otherwise, and barely had time to react before Myrtle had pulled away and scrambled to her feet.
"Oh, goodness," she murmured, a hand coming to rest over her mouth. "Fiona, I'm so sorry, please forgive me." But she didn't even allow the Supreme to do that much as she walked with swift ease to the door to leave without looking back to the stunned woman.
Her eyes stared at the shut door for a long moment, fingertips playing over her still parted lips, and Fiona couldn't help the small smile that appeared. Finally, she looked back to her daughter's sleeping form and stroked a hand over her blonde strands. Slowly, she pushed herself up from the floor and made her way back to bed. The smile remained, even as she nestled back under the covers to sleep for a few more hours. For once, she was looking forward to her daughter's exuberant wake-up call.
