Rubbish, probably, but I'm purging my desktop of all these stories. I think this one is half worth while. :) Lena/Macon fluff, because only few dare write about our favorite Caster/Incubus Uncle. I've alluded to some of my other stories in here, feel free to find them.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Obviously.
SPOILERS: None, I think.
She had her mother's hair. Her eyes, when they opened, were shockingly green. She had a tight grip on his pinkie. The slightest movement made her squirm. A hand settled on his left shoulder. "Steady, Macon."
He released the tension in his back. "Leah," he breathed. She chuckled softly, resting her chin atop his right shoulder, watching the child.
"She's something, eh?" A small smile tilted his lips. She was beautiful. "'The salvation and the doom.' I'll have to check in on her, if the curse is remotely true. Enough power to kill Cubi when still a child. What's her name?"
"Lena." He closed his eyes briefly. "She could Claim herself, Leah. It's possible we'll all survive this."
"Is that hope I hear? We have the chance to wipe out any threat to her."
"And any aid. They have leverage to goad her into Darkness, Leah. She'll kill her mother or her father if we pursue this." The Succubus hummed softly.
"Will Silas send another attack to Ravenwood?" Macon tilted his head to lean against Leah.
"For what? No one is occupying it at the moment. Any attempt would immediately disable the Caster and alert me. Unless they are after Boo, which would be inane."
"He has a connection with you. Remember, you were moved up Silas's hotlist."
He breathed a sigh. "As were you, Leah. They need you. I'm only a bonus, a prize, for all their work. You are coveted."
"Agree to disagree, brother?"
"For her safety?" She didn't respond. "She will need everyone she can convince to support her. Neither of us are planning on throwing our lives into a gamble. Not for another few weeks?"
"Even then, Macon. We'd have to screw something up completely."
"Good. I want to see the end of this." Leah rolled her eyes. Lena shifted in his arms, her hand tightening around his finger, drawing it to her face.
He saw her repeatedly as time progressed. Tensions rose as she grew. The Dark became more daring, the Light more wary. He slept less. They twiddled their thumbs. Macon ran around more. He Traveled across the world, torn between keeping honor and keeping promises. She learned how to walk. He taught the children under his care protection curses. She spoke her first word. Reece killed her first Dark Caster. The stakes were rising. Macon was planning on visiting his youngest niece when the news came. He was shrugging off his jacket when the door slammed open. "John's dead. We can't find Sarafine. The house is ashes. Macon...Lena, we don't know..." His shoulders tensed.
"She wouldn't kill her daughter, Leah." He met her stare.
"Do we leave?"
"A storm's coming soon. We'll need to notify John's family-"
"They abandoned him."
"They will want to know what happened to their son, Leah." His eyes contained a wild light. After a moment, he breathed a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Lena. We need to make sure she's safe, first and foremost."
"Macon, you'll have to raise-"
"Damn it, Leah. I don't care. I need to see her safe." They disappeared simultaneously.
She was asleep. He sat next to the fireplace, nursing a glass of scotch. She remembered everything. Every night she would have nightmares of flames snatching her breath, of floors dusted in ash, of a marred reflection in the warping windows. She never intentionally thought of it. The slightest movement would set a panic attack off. She was hurting herself in those spells, flinging herself off the bed, scratching at her arms until they bled. He came every time, unfailingly. He would hold her until she fell back asleep and heal her wounds, only to return hours later. He had discussed it with Leah before, whether to leave her with them or not. Leah was concerned he would take too much away. He persuaded her to see his way.
He took Lena's memories of that night quickly and silently. She didn't struggle. Her eyes met his throughout the procedure. By the time he finished, she was limp from exhaustion she had tried to suppress. Her eyes were fluttering closed, trying to focus on his face. With a brief Cast, she yawned silently and her green eyes closed. Asleep. As she was now and, hopefully, would be until morning.
He hadn't touched his scotch. He thought he would need it after moving the memories to his head, but it wasn't anything new. He had seen the images before, in much older victims. He was their go-to man for these cases. All had made brilliant recoveries afterwards, the only effect being the blatant amnesia. However, he didn't know how this would impact a Natural. He sat there until his fears quelled and a dull pain began in the base of his skull. Dawn was baring into him again. Soft footfalls were beginning to multiply downstairs. He closed his eyes for a moment before throwing back the scotch and retreating to his study. Boo took his post inside the threshold of Lena's room. He needed to see how she coped.
She had asked the only question he wasn't ready for. They had been sitting outside on the porch, watching the sunset dim. She was cradled in his lap, her hands holding one of his. "Are you my father?" He had barely been able to maintain his composure. His throat constricted.
"No." She tilted her head back to look at him. Her eyes narrowed. "Your father was a brilliant man, Lena. It's a shame how he died."
"And my mother?" He had debated this for years. How did you explain that she was Dark? The precise opposite of what you wanted her to be?
"She died shortly after."
Apparently satisfied with the answer, Lena rolled her head forward. "She was your sister?"
"Ha-" He stopped himself. It was complicated to most Casters his age. There wasn't a way to explain it to her. "Yes."
"And you're my uncle." He nodded. "My Uncle Macon."
"Uncle M, if you prefer." She smiled quickly. She turned and kissed him on the cheek brusquely.
"I love you, Uncle M." He needed to hear that she cared.
His shifts were less than reliable. He would find a letter placed strategically on his desk. The phone would ring when he approached it. He tried to compensate with giving the only child under his care now, Lena, a gift after every absence. A stunning dress from Budapest. A crescent moon necklace from a corner shop in Paris. A charm from Moscow. A notebook from Rome. A small box from a merchant in Singapore. Little nothings that added up to what he hoped was something. Somethings repaid in tight hugs and light kisses to his cheeks. Worried glances and affection he could never have imagined for himself. A daughter to love and be loved by. He needed to feel she understood.
He had refused to raise Ryan. She wasn't going to be Claimed. The curse ended with Lena. Any Duchannes born after her would be a normal Caster. Either way, he turned the child away. One hormonal teenage girl was enough. He trusted Delphine and Barclay could raise her to be a fine young woman. He didn't need to see her grow up.
He talked to Boo the night before he left to fight. To die, he reminded himself. He kneeled down in front of the dog and held its head in his hands. Boo leaned into the touch. "I need you to watch over her. I won't be able to protect her." Boo whined lowly. "I know, I know. You need to be her eyes, now. She will think this is her fault for quite some time." Boo's eyes met his. "One more time, old boy? For tradition's sake?" Macon stood carefully before striding out the room. He needed to know someone would be there for her when she needed him most.