A/N: Not my show or characters. Had to write this because the two scenes with Fiona and Delia in this episode made me sad.
Cordelia Foxx had just finished destroying every viable item on the work table in her greenhouse amongst the backdrop of the eerie sounds of Myrtle's theremin. As the last shrieks emanated from her lungs, she collapsed on the floor, shards of glass embedding in her knees. In a twisted way, she appreciated the pain as it supported her theory of being worthless. Sobbing into her hands, Delia felt her existence crumble around her; her mother was beyond furious with her, she had insulted her Auntie Myrtle, her husband had committed several layers of betrayal against her, and her ability for visions was gone.
The enigmatic sounds from Myrtle's instrument ceased as the woman glided over to her, taking care not to step on the glass. It was simply too much for her to bear, seeing the girl fall apart before her very eyes. Myrtle intended to rouse Delia from feeling sorry for herself to a stance of determination, but perhaps the girl had been through too much for such an approach.
When Cordelia was a young girl, Myrtle would simply instigate her stubborn drive by the oldest trick in the book; reverse psychology. Tell the kid they would be better off cleaning toilet bowls for the rest of their lives and they'd simmer down and diligently finish their homework. Or in this case, tell them they'd be a great cruise ship hostess. But that didn't work, so she tried the angle of flat out telling her to toughen up already. Poor choice of words. Delia became a human tornado. The only other time Myrtle observed such a sight was when Fiona had laid into Delia after she revealed that she had eloped with Hank. Cordelia had nearly set the vast library of books on fire, but thanks to Myrtle's quick wit, the flames were contained to an unfortunate chair.
Then and now, the only thing that Myrtle knew would calm her "little bird" was contact. Myrtle crouched beside Cordelia, wrapping her arms around the young blonde's shoulders, drawing her close. "Delia, you know none of those things are true. You have so much to offer this coven. I'm sure Fiona had a reason behind what she said." Whatever the reasons, Myrtle fully intended to find out. The entire secretive meeting situation going on with Marie had her on alert and a bit curious as well.
Cordelia clung to Myrtle, burying her face into the woman's chest as she wept, her body shaking with each wave of self-pity that coursed through her. "I wish she had stayed dead. Witch hunters or not." Her voice was cold but then cracked as she continued to cry.
"Well, you may get your wish sooner than you'd hoped." A sultry voice sounded from the entryway of the greenhouse as Fiona made her way inside, her breathing labored as she leaned against a stool near the door. "I'm...not doing so great."
"You haven't exactly picked the right person to care about you right now, Fiona." Cordelia hurriedly wiped the tears from her cheeks, pulling away from Myrtle.
"Delia," Fiona let out a heavy sigh, pushing her body up onto the stool. "Come here." A shaky hand outstretched, and Fiona leaned against the wall with obvious fatigue. Her tone was far different from earlier; it was softer, maternal even.
Myrtle helped Cordelia stand, a gloved hand encircling her elbow to steady her as she gasped and nearly toppled in pain due to the glass particles in her knees. With a grunt, Cordelia walked to Fiona's perch by the door, leaving Myrtle amidst the remains of her plants and potions. Not one to eavesdrop often, Myrtle rummaged for a broom and dustpan to start cleaning the results of Cordelia's rage.
Sniffing back the last of her tears, Cordelia paused a step away from Fiona's hand, looking at her mother warily. She had no reason to trust that the sinewy digits wouldn't crack against her reddened cheek again. The words that she had heard from the woman's lips accusing her of being hopeless and worthless churned inside her entire being until it was a roar that she could not ignore. Cordelia glared at Fiona's hand, arms coming upward to cross over her chest. "What?" Short and crisp, with no room for forgiveness, Delia lifted her gaze to Fiona's. She regretted the decision immediately as she saw the wounded look on her face, her eyes watering.
"My Delia, I'm...so very sorry." Fiona's hand finally dropped to her lap weakly when she realized Cordelia would not be reciprocating with her own hand. "Darling, I'm just...so upset. He could have killed you. Killed all of us." Pausing to draw in a shuddering breath, Fiona dragged her fingertips under her eyes. "You're not worthless. I just wanted to keep you out of this...madness. I'm trying to keep you safe. Lord knows I don't have the best track record." Her head canted to the side and she rested it against the wall, both hands twisting on her lap. "You can think me a liar, but I didn't mean what I said. I love you, Delia." Fiona's voice lowered to a whisper, cracking at the last words.
With a tremble of her bottom lip, Cordelia closed the last bit of space between them and fell into Fiona, arms wrapping around her shoulders tightly. She desperately wanted to believe her mother's words, even if the earlier ones had torn her down. Something in the way Fiona had said she loved her, though, that was her undoing. The sniffling started again as Delia masked her face in Fiona's hair.
Fiona, still lethargic, folded an arm around Cordelia's waist, while her other hand dove into the stick straight tresses that graced her daughter's head. She kept her head pressed against her own, craning her neck slightly to leave a lingering kiss on Cordelia's temple. "I mean it, sweetheart," she whispered.
Cordelia tightened her hold on Fiona and then slowly released her, taking a step back. "I'm going upstairs...have to clean my cuts from the glass." She gestured to her right where Myrtle was still sweeping up the broken pieces of pottery and glass, along with various overturned plants. "I...I'm sorry, too. About Hank. If I had known..."
"No," Fiona cut Delia off sharply. "Stop. You didn't know. You couldn't have." Fiona lifted her right hand to brush her fingertips to Cordelia's cheek where she had struck her, and flinched inwardly when she saw the glint of fear in her daughter's eyes. "I'm so sorry, honey. I let my anger get the best of me."
Another whispered apology. Cordelia closed her eyes briefly, biting her bottom lip as she gave a nod of her head. Her mother seemed sincere in her words and mannerisms, but Cordelia was still afraid that Fiona was much like a loose cannon; emotions flailing off the charts due to the cancer, the chemo, and the Coven being targeted by witch hunters. This was all too much for her and she couldn't sort out what made sense at the moment. Cordelia felt a surging need to be alone with her thoughts, and was unsure whether to take her mother's apology to heart. "I'll be upstairs," she said quietly, shrugging away from Fiona's hand stroking her cheek so she could retreat from the greenhouse.
Rolling her head to the side to follow the younger woman's exit, Fiona sighed loudly. While in the process of turning her head back, her left cheek was met with a forceful slap from a hand. Mouth agape in shock, Fiona covered her cheek, looking at Myrtle, who suddenly stood in front of her. "What the hell?"
"You're an immoral selfish bitch, Fiona. You've wrecked that poor girl for the last time. She's not unbreakable; one day you will shatter her beyond repair." Myrtle stabbed the air with her index finger, only inches away from Fiona's face. "You better treat her the way she deserves to be treated or I'll make your life hell, Supreme or not."
"Jesus, I didn't know you took this mothering role so seriously," Fiona muttered, massaging the sting from her cheek with her hand. "I apologized to her, I'm sure you heard that much."
"Even still. I have half a mind to slap you again for the pain you've caused our poor Delia." Myrtle hovered close, hands settling on her hips.
"Go ahead," Fiona taunted with a slight tilt of her head, smirking at the eccentric woman.
"Well, if you insist." Myrtle simply smiled, sending an open palm hard against Fiona's cheek so that her head jostled. And then she braced for the Supreme's reaction.