Take Everything
…~*~...
For the first time since its inception, the Serpent Chapel was filled to the brim. They'd dragged in extra chairs and tables just for this occasion. Three of the four clan heads were sat at the mismatched tables, not talking but silently gauging their peers. Alma was holding onto a handkerchief, rolling the worn lace edges between her thumbs and index fingers, memorizing the delicate lace edging with the pads of each digit. Listening carefully while she siphoned energy from each individual in the room, tasting their auras like wines at a vineyard. Her attention was immediately brought to the hulking beast of a man who stood silent yet lethal behind Mercy Smith. Ferka Pike, she'd heard of this man, the mind reader, a legend in many respects. Tipping his head slightly in her direction, his piercing blue eyes met her guarded cole, she let the side of her mouth perk up in recognition, then her head tilted ever so slightly. They found each other trustworthy, and it suited the pair just fine. In the chair across from her, Pop Tate sat, quiet and perpetually unreadable. Smiling in his usual sunny way, he too tipped his head towards Alma. Reciprocating the action, she felt that Pop was also to be trusted. Scanning the energy waves from the various bodies around the room, she felt a surge coming from beside her. The energy was strong and hostile, pulsing violently with every ebb and flow. She knew her grandson more than he knew himself most days, pushing back a little, she sent a calming wave back in his direction. Wild curls bounced when he turned his head in her direction, urgency plastered over the sharp planes of his face. When the furrow of his brow softened ever so slightly, Alma smiled and winked at Malachi, when he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"How do you do that?" The voice was in her head, but she had heard it just as plain as speaking. Her attention was fully on the burly barrel chested ghoulie. Being the clever bruja she was, she answered him in the same way he had asked her.
"Magic!" With a wink and a school girl's giggle, she sent the light hearted energy in his direction, causing a raucous chortle to spill past his bearded mouth. The entirety of the room fell silent, watching the exchange between the two.
"Now that we're getting acquainted, I think we need to discuss the next course of action. First being Tia and her affiliation with Hiram Lodge. Next will be the festering pig head we were so generously given." FP Jones had zero warmth left in him. His usual half smile was nowhere to be seen, nor was his infectious laugh to be heard. "Seems some of our ranks are working for the mobsters now, letting them into our clubhouse and giving them information about our residences, powers and the like. Hiram had the spells reversed as soon as we sent him back. The inevitable cannot be prevented."
"How long do we have FP?" Mercy Smith sat just as still as ever, the long greying wisps of hair pulled high in an elegant knot atop her head. "Not long I suspect, or you wouldn't have dragged our aged bones to sit around the church table." Mercy searched the faces of every guest in the room, she would find their secrets whether they wanted to tell them or not. She needn't listen to the ramblings of a boy she'd help raise, so she would watch. Someone was bound to let loose a bead of sweat sooner or later, inside of it would be a thousand never spoken secrets, she'd know them all.
"No, not long. We believe they intend to strike within the month. Fangs is being trained, Betty as well. Sweet Pea and Ferka have been most helpful with their skills." FP had taken to leaning on his father's walking stick; the weight of his world slowly settling on his shoulders. Alice had left it at his bedside table upon their return from New York just after the remodel of their bedroom. It was comforting in their current situation. He drew some much needed courage and memories from this particular item he inherited. He absently wondered how he had overlooked the ancient piece of wood for so many years.
"We heard about Fangs, quite interesting what a little spell in the woods will do to a shifter huh?" Mercy said matter of factly when an audible gasp fell from Kitty's lips, she looked from Benita, then to Alma, then to Sweet Pea.
"Am I wrong to presume the boy may be a little closer to family than a friend? Sometimes our men wander, spreading the lineage as far as they can, sometimes they plant it right in our own backyard. Leaving us to pull roots and tend the saplings. No harm in it when we need to pull ranks, but it sure does spoil Christmas dinner and birthday parties. You'll be wise not to shun him, shifters are hard to come by and we've only had the two in our midst." Once again Mercy spoke, paying no mind to the crying Kitty had been trying to hide. Benita had wrapped an arm around the woman, dabbing at her tear stained face with a tissue she'd pulled from her handbag.
"Two? We've had two shifters?" Betty glanced at every face in the room. Alma nodded to the girls right when her eyes fell on the older woman. Following her directions, Betty looked to the boy she'd been becoming quite close to in the last few months. The last person she'd expected, Sweet Pea.
"I'm not just a shifter, but it's a family trait, right Mal?" It was Benita's turn to gasp now.
"You talk about it so casually. Like it's normal to turn into a goddamn labrador while running in the backyard with your cousins. It's not normal." Benita was flustered, her caramel skin mottled with red blotchy patches that ran down her neckline disappearing under the collar of her blouse.
"It's not entirely unheard of in our particular gene pool. There's a few more than two though. As Ghoulies, we never thought it was necessary to tell the town about our genetic predisposition to howl at the moon, or to become a fly on the wall. However, I'm not the shifter and I think you know that, Mom." Malachi squeezed Betty's hand, never looking away from his Mother's tear soaked face.
"It's not exactly uncommon knowledge that Fil is a shifter, his temper alone is cause for speculation. Ever since he was a boy, running through the woods with Charles and Ferka, that young man is as talented as they come and you ladies should be proud to call him a Cardenas. As far as Fangs, his father could be either of your boys Alma, but based on Kitty's flagrant sniffling, my money's on Leopoldo rather than Ignacio." Ever the bold one, Mercy tilted her head in sympathy, a small smile playing on one side of her face.
"You'd be right, I've known for quite some time, so have the boys. Why you're crying at a time like this is beyond me. Pull yourself together Katherine, this isn't the Dr. Phil show, you're not getting paid to blubber in public." Alma had no more sympathy for these women. She'd been holding this family together for longer than she'd cared to admit, Betty was their only saving grace.
"Easy for you to say, you never had the luxury of living with a philanderer." Sitting up pin straight in her chair, Benita sniffed and shifted uncomfortably.
"HA! Oh gracious me. You are a prideful one aren't you?" With a little chuckle, Mercy reached around the indignant woman and patted Alma on the back. "I thought I'd had it rough with Hal, but you my love, take the cake with the in-laws."
"Me, I'm prideful? Your son in law gave up your granddaughter to a mobster and I'm a terrible daughter in law?" Totally perplexed by the old aged woman, Benita tried to laugh off the irrational feelings growing deep inside of her.
"She's not wrong, but that is neither here nor there, the problem here is with Hiram knowing full well of our deeds as well as a traitor in our midst." Alma was ready for planning to get the ball rolling. They had little time to waste and not nearly enough resources to defend themselves if the pig head was a precursor to the inevitable. War was coming, and they had to be ready for the attack, no matter how small.
"Tia told Hiram everything. He had her runnin' jingle jangle from Centerville to Greendale and back. Their business is booming, it was never dented, like we hadn't done anything to stop it." Shaking his head, FP brought a fist to his mouth, resting his elbow on the table top.
"They know a lot, but so do we. Sweets, show 'em what we've been working on." Betty leaned back in her seat, patting the lanky young man at her side on the back while sending a sly wink in Malachi's direction.
Stretching his arms out in front of him, Sweet Pea held out a fist over the table top, slowly unfurling his fingers to expose his palm. Inhaling deeply through his nostrils, he closed his eyes and blew over his open palm. A steady stream of air turned a bit heavy as it made its way from pursed lips to the end of the table where Alice, Jughead, Charles and FP sat watching and waiting. FP's hair moved slightly, then it was being tousled every which way until the room was a whirlpool of wind. Then it stopped. Sweet Pea stood and held out both palms, then blew again. A single water droplet fell on each table. Then rain manifested from the ceiling, only falling over the four individual tables. Curling his hands back into fists, Sweet Pea opened his eyes. A thunder head rolled over the top of the collection of waters. Betty stood now, looking from face to face, then pursed her lips and sucked in air, allowing her chest to rise. The clouds rolled back to where they'd come from, as did the rain and every drop of water that had manifested from Sweet Pea moments before.
"Very good, you've learned to manifest elements. That might come in handy in personal combat. Good job kids." Alice smiled brightly, not wanting to disappoint her daughter by telling her that their little talent show would do nothing to defeat Hiram Lodge and possibly Edgar Evernever, the witch collector and his cult of misguided witches.
Sweet Pea turned to look at Betty, then held his fist up to her. She smiled at him, raising her own fist and giving him a fist bump. Upon their fists touching, it thundered so violently that the church doors blew open and the framed pictures on the wall came crashing down. Betty took hold of Sweet Pea's hands, then the rain came flooding down, and the lightning threatened to strike the very establishment they stood in. Wind whistled through the cracks of the windows, blowing them open as the intensity picked up. Their heads fell back, mouths agape and eyes wide when the fire came flying out of the empty and long since forgotten fireplace behind FP, Alice, Charles and Jughead. The room was hot like hell fire now, sweat dripping from the ends of Betty and Sweet Pea's hair like they had just showered. Then the fire was gone, the wind had stopped, as did the rain and thunder. Betty turned to the standing adults in the room, her lover included, and inhaled again. The clouds rolled back, and the sun showed through the windows despite it being the middle of winter. The bar patrons had no idea what was going on, Ghoulies and Serpents alike stood with jaws dropped to their steel toes in awe of what they had just witnessed. Sweets turned his attention toward the hundred or so bodies in the next room, raising one finger, wordlessly mouthing a few words. Every soul in the next room closed their mouths and returned to their previous business. Curling the same finger in toward himself, the door shut with a heavy thud. Having nothing left to say, he turned around and sat in his chair, a cigarette resting between his lips from seemingly nowhere at all. Betty snapped her fingers in front of his face and the cigarette was glowing with life now. He inhaled nonchalauntly. His long fingers took the cigarette from between his lips and he exhaled a dark ominous looking cloud. Betty took the cigarette now, taking a drag from it like a pro, leaving Malachi looking utterly shocked by her actions. When she exhaled, it was a light cloud, then it mingled with the dark cloud. Sweet Pea took hold of the cigarette again, then inhaled, then exhaled once more. The two clouds spun and grew, the tip touching the table, spinning violently and with purpose. It was a tornado, whirling around the four tables looking for debri to gather inside of it. Betty and Sweet Pea sat silently, letting the little devil roam in front of them. Ferka was the only one who knew they could do this, that they had been working for endless hours to perfect this, so they could show their elders a little something before the shit hit the fan. They were nothing like the Greendale witches, the coven that hailed satan with their every breath.
Next thing they knew, Malachi had lit his own cigarette, cheeks hollowed with the force of his inhalation. Flicking the ash from the cherry of the burning tobacco between his fingers onto the table top, he never looked up to his peers, he simply put a finger tip over the top of the ash and smiled to himself. Wordlessly, Malachi swirled the ash over the table all the while smoke billowed from the lit end of the cigarette, collecting somewhere in the air above him. He stopped suddenly, bringing the filtered end of the cigarette to his perfectly pouting lips, and snapped his fingers. The ash began to fall, turning into freshly plowed dirt as it touched the table before him. Another exhale of smoke over the table and snow covered the earth. He seemed vaguely aware of the others in the room, of the tornado spinning idle near the snow and soil, sucking in pieces here and there as they were tugged gently across the laminate and wood table tops.
Holding his palms up in front of him, Ferka inhaled. The tornado spun to the end of the table where he stood and stopped in front of him, still spinning, gathering earth and snow. His mouth opened wide, then the thing grew, up to the ceiling and as wide as the four tables combined. With a loud CLAP the storm dissipated. There was literally nothing left, not a drop of water or speck of dust. Folding his arms over his chest, Ferka resigned to the spot on the wall he had been before. Betty sat still in her chair, checking her nails for any missing polish, while Sweet Pea leaned behind her to grab the ashtray on the shelf, offering it to his cousin and acting as if they hadn't collectively summoned the elements inside of the church room. Like they hadn't wiped the memories of at least a hundred people and shut doors with not even a single word being uttered.
"Looks like a couple someones have been doing their homework. And you thought we'd be in trouble. That we only had firearms at our reach. We have a whole hell of a lot more than that Alice, and you haven't seen what Charles and Malachi can do together yet. I have some washing that needs done, and to teach Jughead how to conjure. He's very gifted with the elements in his own right. He just needs a second and then the sky's the limit. Maybe that little wolf will come out of his den and learn a thing." With the flick of a boney finger in the air behind her, Jughead followed sheepishly as Mercy flung the door open and exited the room with the boy in tow.
"Your Mother is a force to be reckoned with Alice. We have our own youngsters to prepare. Have a good evening everyone. Blue plate special is the meatloaf, shakes are half off for the magically inclined." Smiling wide and chuckling slightly, Pop's also left the room.
"Well, I guess that's that. I presume we let Sweets and Betty wipe Tia and her band of morons? They seem fairly capable of the simplest of spells. I trust they can manage." Throwing the end of her scarf around her neck, Alma turned to Malachi, and smiled. Sending him another wave of positivity, she also left.
Benita and Kitty stood awkwardly near the open door. They had no idea what to do now that they had witnessed such tremendous magic. The elders seemed non perplexed, but they felt overwhelmingly unsure of themselves. Ferka stood tall again, arms still crossed.
"If you're afraid, then how can you help teach the others? You have rolls to play in this and all you do is cower in fear. You're going to stop judging and start helping. Love these boys, and that girl. Now go." His voice was low and serious. He went back to his wall, back to poking around in the others heads unbeknownst to them.
"Well then, I guess that's that. We'll see you back at the house for dinner. I'd tell you to be safe, but you can probably summon clouds to ride on. Heaven knows I have no luck with the elements at all." Alice tugged her coat on, then went for the door, only to stop and turn around. "I'm proud of you kids. For stepping up and learning, for helping us fight. It really isn't your war, it's not even ours." Placing kisses over Betty's head, she did the same with Sweet Pea and Charles, Malachi and finally FP. Then she left the room, coat tails billowing behind her.
"When exactly were you going to tell me about all of this?" FP looked at everyone left in the room, waiting for someone to respond.
"We wanted to surprise ya Dad."
…~*~...
Their boots were tossed haphazardly just inside of the doorway to their room, clothes stripped and forgotten about almost immediately. They hadn't been in the house alone for weeks now, and they were starving for each other's touch. It was no surprise that after the last time they'd found themselves rolling in these very satin sheets, that the heightened climate of their current situation would have Malachi on edge. Instead of burying his feelings in strange and drugs and alcohol, he buried them in Betty. Siphoning his anguish became second nature, she'd been doing it the whole time; it's how they managed to survive. No matter how it looked on the outside, Betty knew that they healed each other with every taste, touch, and whisper. They would be consumed if it wasn't for their devotion to one another. Laying fully satiated, limbs intertwined with each other and the sheets, they almost felt at peace.
"So, you and Sweets huh?" Half opening an eye at her, he smiled that wicked smile she loved so damned so much.
"Oh shut up, not this again. Are you going to piss on my leg to let him know who I belong to?" Rolling over onto her stomach, she felt the chill in the air with loss of his limbs over her own.
"You wish Coop Deville. I'm not the shifter remember? Besides, you smell like me always. You can't ever escape it." Running a finger over the curve of her spine, he relished in every dip and bump of her vertebrates. "I knew he was your second from the start, the way you two fell into friendship? It was the same for me and Charles. Way back, at the sisters, in the woods. We couldn't have been more than seven, they sent us to play then. Now they just dope you up and sit you down in front of the tube. Rot the brain so they can claim incompetence, they milk the system for the government benefit. Maximum dollar for minimal care. Glad I escaped when I did. I have Charles to thank for that."
Watching him closely, Betty took in every flex of his jaw, every tug of his teeth on his bottom lip, it took a lot for him to really talk about these things from his past. She never pushed him, always wanted him to be the one to dredge the bodies from the bog water that was his reality. In a hundred years she could never imagine the lives her brother and her boyfriend had led; she shivered merely at the thought. "You have each other."
"Yeah, 'spose you're right. It was the last time my Mom came to visit. Both of her sons were inside, but she only left with one. I don't think she realized that I already knew she wasn't there to bring me home. I could hear her in my head. I could feel her disgust when she looked at me, she couldn't even look me in the eyes." Swallowing thickly, Malachi looked at Betty now, holding her gaze for a brief moment. In that moment she felt every fissure of his heart, every tear that sat burning behind closed eyelids, and every knuckle that bruised under the tremendous force of his colliding with the brick walls of The Sisters of Quiet Mercy.
"You don't have to-" Betty began, but Malachi placed a single finger over her lips to stop her.
"I do, I owe you at least this much. I watched your whole life fall to pieces around you and I haven't told you shit." Roughened knuckles passed sweetly over her cheek, when the pad of his thumb tugged gently at her bottom lip, she kissed it without hesitation.
"It's not tit for tat Mal, I want all of you, no matter what." Leaning over him, she kissed him.
"It's too much sometimes. I can still feel the cement walls on my bare skin. The taste of blood in my mouth from biting the inside of my cheek when the paddle landed just right on my backside." Inhaling deeply, Malachi held Betty tighter to him. "It's like I never lived it, like it was someone else who was locked away for accidently lighting the curtains on fire because their big brother punched 'em in the back. I see it all from an outside perspective, but I can still remember the pain."
"I could slap the hell out of her for how she treated you." Running a warm palm over his stubbled cheek. She wanted desperately for his inner demons to leave him be. It was slow, but she knew every time he divulged even a tid bit of his former life to her, he was gaining control over his life. She'd take it as it came, no matter how small.
"Babygirl, we have to get back soon, we have to meet up with Magic and fix Tia and Tre." As reality sunk in, Betty's hand went still over Malachi's heart.
"I've never pushed into someone's head before." She lay there, looking up their ceiling, wondering what it would be like to search someone's head the way that Ferka did.
"It shouldn't be too bad, she has it comin' anyway. I'm sure she'll appreciate you poking around her head rather than your knee in her face again."