Chapter 47: Open wounds.
Croix and I spent quite a few hours outside, just talking, looking at the beautiful streets of Roma and showing each other affection until Croix's mood improved just enough for her to manage a genuine smile. But then… as the blue sky was painted red and the shadows of the buildings grew larger and larger, we knew it was time for us to return. Croix didn't want to, of course, but it was better to get this over with as soon as possible than to arrive late for dinner and face Mellea's fury.
But alas, we somehow made it just in time.
As soon as we step inside her home, however, there's a surprise waiting for us. And not exactly a good one. Remember that French lady from earlier? The one that was rude and homophobic and such? Well… she's here. For some reason. She's sitting on the table with Mellea, and they both turn to look at us as soon as we step inside.
"Mom, we're ba-" Croix's voice dies as soon as her eyes land on the strange woman, and her expression hardens.
"What is she doing here?" I blurt out without thinking.
"Croix." Mellea says as she stands up and walks towards us, blatantly ignoring me. "This is Lucille, your birth mother. She came all the way from France just to see you, so be nice."
Oh shit.
I just stay there, frozen, staring at the woman with wide eyes. I don't know how I didn't see the similarities before! She has Croix's hair color, and the fluffiness! Their nose is also the same, and the height, and even their skin tone. Maybe it's because she's too thin, and that makes her look a bit different? But… still. I should have made the connection, especially since Croix has a French name.
Slowly, the woman gets up from her sitting position and makes her way towards us without saying a word, eyes locked on Croix. I see my girlfriend tense and I squeeze her hand in reassurance as I continue glaring at this homophobic woman.
"Croix… I have waited so long to meet you." She says softly in a broken English with a French accent. Oh gosh, I don't sound like that, do I? I hope not.
"Yeah? Well, you could have just not abandoned me, you know?" She says with a cold tone, glaring daggers at the woman.
"And for that I'm deeply sorry." She answers without missing a beat. "I never wanted to leave you, but-"
"Save it." She snarls. "I don't want to hear whatever bullshit excuse you've been telling yourself all these years to be able to sleep at night. It doesn't change the end result, does it?"
At her accusations, the woman seems to shrink a little, and her eyes become avoidant as if she's trying to come up with something to say. But before Croix can keep verbally destroying her mother, Mellea interferes.
"Croix." She says firmly. "Why don't we all sit down and have a… civilized conversation?"
"Do I have a choice?" She asks, obviously not expecting an answer, and then goes to sit at the table, dragging me with her. Only her birth mother is left, but she hesitates as she looks at Croix, then me.
"What is this girl doing here?" She asks.
"Chariot is my girlfriend." Croix answers, glaring at her. "She has every right in the world to be here."
Unlike you was the implication, but Croix left it unsaid.
"Do you condone this… perversion?" She says, looking at Mellea with clear disapproval.
"Croix is nineteen years old. Who she dates is not my place to decide." Is Mellea's simple but court answer.
"I… see." She grimaces visibly as she takes a seat. "I was expecting this to be a family reunion, however."
"So… I guess that takes you out of the equation, huh?" Croix shoots, obviously not willing to dissimulate her anger towards this woman. Her birth mother flinches at the implication, showing a hurt expression for a moment before trying to cover it up.
"Why don't we have dinner?" Mellea interrupts, trying to ease the tension. Only then do I notice the delicious smell that permeates the apartment, and hear my stomach growl in hunger. Dinner does sound good right now... Although it'll be difficult to concentrate with so much tension in the air.
"I made some lasagna." She adds.
"Oh? I've never tasted lasagna before!" I exclaim cheerfully, trying (and failing) to lighten up the atmosphere.
"I could certainly have a little." Croix's mother says politely, although she doesn't seem to be particularly interested in the food, even when Mellea starts serving us.
And damn! It looks good. Just like I imagined pasta would look like. Actual Italian pasta anyways, not instant ramen. I'm about to take a forkful into my mouth when I'm interrupted by Lucille.
"Ahem." She coughs to catch our attention. "Shouldn't we say our prayers first?"
"Prayers?" Mellea raises an eyebrow.
"Don't you normally thank the Lord for the food He brought to your table?" Mellea tries to conceal a chuckle at Lucille's words, but the phantom of a smile still appears on her face clear as day.
"My apologies. I'm afraid we don't believe in that sort of magic here." She says.
"M-magic?" She exclaims indignantly. "Don't you dare compare our Lord and Savior with those heretic tricks of a few misguided individuals."
"Witches, you mean." Mellea (un)helpfully provides.
"Witches, wizards, magicians… they're all the same! A bunch of deviants, servers of the devil that use their so-called magic to corrupt people's minds."
I roll my eyes at her words. Geez. It's literally like she is stuck ten centuries in the past! I wonder what my ancestors did when they had to deal with people like this on a daily basis. Did they turn them into frogs? Because I really want to turn her into a frog.
"Great." Croix sighs. "I didn't know that I had a crazy woman for a mother."
"Please, let's not lose our minds for a moment." Mellea interferes before Lucille has a chance to keep ranting about how horrible witches are. "I understand that you might be concerned about Croix not sharing your beliefs, but you must realize that, by abandoning her as a baby, there was a chance she would be adopted by someone who doesn't practice your religion."
"I know." Lucille draws out a long sigh before turning to look at my girlfriend once more. "I know I haven't been there for you…" She starts, only to be immediately interrupted by Croix.
"Thanks for the observation, captain obvious."
"But I only did what I thought was best for your future."
"Can you be any more cliché right now?" Croix rolls her eyes, not buying her words for one second. "I mean, you left a baby on the fucking street! What kind of justification can there be for that?!"
"None." To both of our surprises, she doesn't shy away from that fact, and her face turns into one of regret. "But there is an explanation." She continues. "Back then I was in a very bad place. I strayed away from the right path and became involved with some very bad people; thieves and drug dealers."
"Let me guess." Croix interrupts her, wearing an unimpressed expression. "That's how you got pregnant."
"Yes." Well, that's not a surprise. "But that's also how I started doing drugs." Oh.
"You did drugs while you were pregnant?!" Croix rightfully yelled. "What the fuck."
"No! I… I tried to leave them. I tried to change! I really did." She sighs. "I even left France in hopes that leaving those people behind would help me, but… I just felt miserable, and I relapsed more then once." A part of me feels bad for her, especially because of the truly regretful expression she's wearing, but… another part of me is actually glad Croix ended up being raised by someone else instead. Truly, Mellea isn't that bad.
"Eventually you were born, and I knew I couldn't take care of you. Not in the condition I was in." She continued explaining. "So I left you on the street, yes, but outside the orphanage. I even left a note with your name on it, and an apology."
"Je suis desolé Croix, ma petite bebé." Croix says in French, like she has memorized it. It translates to 'I'm sorry Croix, my little baby', which… is better than nothing, I guess? But I'm sure she would have preferred a proper apology and an explanation.
"Yes." She nods. "I know it wasn't enough, but that's all I could manage at the time."
"Oh no, it must have been so hard for you." Croix says sarcastically.
"It was." She answers, either not picking up on my girlfriend's tone or deciding to ignore it.
"I always wanted to come back for you, and be a proper mother. That's why I decided that enough was enough and sought help." She straightens herself a bit and her tone becomes more serious. "That's when I found God. He was the one who helped me recover, and put me on the right path again." Huh. I'm not surprised, honestly. I have heard that many associations that seek to help recovering addicts are very religious.
"Yeah? Well… good for you, I guess." Croix sounds bitter, but is trying to hold it back and appear disinterested as she mostly focuses on moving her food around her plate.
"But He also helped me find you when I was ready. He guided me to you for a reason." She pauses and Croix glares at her, as if challenging her to say another word. "He saw you too had deviated from the right path, just like me when I was younger, and now He wants me to help you."
"I'm not a drug addict!" She yells, obviously upset.
"No, but… you clearly have other kinds of deviations." She looks pointedly at me, but I pretend to not notice and eat my lasagna (which is delicious, by the way), since I would rather not be a part of this conversation.
"Say one more homophobic thing, I dare you." Croix pretty much growls.
"I'm not homophobic, but this…" She gestures vaguely towards us. "This isn't what the Lord intended. He created Adam and Eve for a reason."
"Reproduction. Which I'm very much not interested in." She deadpans.
"It's not just reproduction." She countered. "The bond between man and woman is deeper than that! It's something sacred. We complement each other, our souls-"
"Like the bond you had with my father, you mean?" She interrupts, raising an eyebrow. "Do you even know who he was? Well… aside from some junkie who refused to use a condom."
"How dare-" She tries to speak, but is quickly interrupted.
"Oh no, now it's my turn to speak." She starts raising her voice. "You don't get to waltz into my life after not being in it for the past nineteen years, and tell me that I am doing something wrong." She glares at her with such ferocity that she even recoils slightly. "I love Chariot, okay? I love her. I love her more than I have ever loved anyone else in my life. So if you say that somehow what I feel is wrong, and try to compare it to being a drug addict, then you can honestly go fuck yourself."
I try to suppress the smile that appears on my face, but honestly I can't. I'm just glad Croix is standing up for herself here. And what's she said about me… it left a fuzzy feeling in my stomach.
"You dare speak to your mother like that?" Lucille gasps indignantly.
"You're not my mother." She immediately answers. "She is." She points with her head at Mellea. "Sure, we have our differences sometimes, but she did raise me. And at least she isn't homophobic and she doesn't hate magic. In fact… she taught me everything I know."
"M-magic?" Her eyes open wide at the insinuation.
"That's right." She smirks. "I'm a witch."
I swear you could hear a hairpin drop in that moment, as mother and daughter just kept staring at each other; one trying to appear in control of the situation, and the other one burning red with barely contained rage.
"What have you done to her?!" She yelled, turning to Mellea.
"Me?" She feigned surprise.
"You turned her into a sinner, a d-deviant, a-a… how could you do this to a child?!"
"Stop this nonsense!" This time Croix is the one who yells. "You keep talking about God and whatnot, calling me a degenerate because of my preferences and interests, but you have absolutely no right to critique how I conduct my life."
"I am your mother!" Lucille shoots back. "I made you. I carried you in my womb for nine months, I-"
"That doesn't make you my mother!"
"Enough!" She raises her voice even more now, standing up with an air of finality. "I see the situation is a lot more precarious than I anticipated, and some changes need to be done."
"Changes?" Croix snarls, as if daring her to voice her thoughts.
"First of all, she needs to go." She points at me. "All witchcraft will be forbidden and you will come with me and learn to love our Lord, understood?"
"No!" Croix is understandably pissed. "You don't get to disappear for almost two decades and then come back and tell me what I can or can't do! That's not how it works!"
"I know I made a mistake in the past." She tries to reel herself back a little, but only partially succeeds. "I chose my own selfishness over you. But now it's different! I want to make things better, I… I'm choosing you!"
"Stop!" Croix yells, standing up with barely contained fury in her eyes. Her whole body is shaking, and her jaw is tense as she speaks. "You can't do this! It's too late." Her voice breaks a little at the last part. "I wanted a mother when I was younger, but I don't need one any more, much less one like you." A stray tear rolls down her cheek, but she doesn't seem to notice, focusing only on the woman in front of her. "If you didn't choose me back then, then don't come to me now!"
And then, Croix starts crying uncontrollably. Tears fall from her eyes in rapid succession, her whole body is being rocked by her sobs, and she's struggling to breathe through the little gasps for air that she takes.
Mellea and I get up at the same time, but while I go to place my hand gently on Croix's back, she takes out her wand as she looks at the other woman.
"Okay, that's enough." She says as she points her wand at her. There's a flash of light, and Lucille doesn't have time to even blink or say another word before she's gone.
"W-what did you do?" I ask.
"I sent her outside, and she can't come back." She huffs. "I was getting tired of her attitude, and it looks like Croix can't deal with her anymore either."
"Y-you should have never brought her here in the first place!" Croix yells at her, still crying messily in anger. "I told you I didn't want to see her!"
"I'm sorry." She sighs. "She seemed so polite over the phone, and genuinely interested on meeting you… If I had known she was like this, I would have never let her inside our home."
Croix just glares at her, too caught up in her anger and despair to listen to Mellea, or even care.
"Listen… You've always said we're not family, and you don't seem to be happy with me. I just thought meeting your birth mother could maybe… help." She sighs again, apparently apologetic. "I see now that it didn't really work and I'm sorry. I should have met her in person before inviting her."
"You s-shouldn't have invited her." Croix rasps out. "I didn't want this. I never wanted this."
"Croix…" Her eyes soften ever so slightly as she takes a few steps towards my girlfriend. She then pauses for a moment and slowly raises her hand, gently touching one of her cheeks to wipe away the tears. Croix flinches and recoils, but Mellea quickly wraps her arms around her and hugs her. Still, Croix seems to be frozen on the spot, like a deer in headlights.
"I'm sorry." Mellea whispers, so softly that I can barely hear her. "I only tried to do what I thought was best for you." She pauses, but Croix still doesn't hug her back. "I know we have our differences, but at the end of the day, you're my daughter, and I… well… at least I'm not her, right?"
Croix doesn't respond. She seems to be paralyzed still.
"Ti amo Croix." Thankfully Italian is just similar enough to French to know what she just said. Je t'aime. I love you. But even if it wasn't… the tone alone is enough to communicate what she means.
Croix remains petrified for a few more seconds, but then she starts shaking one more time and sobbing loudly. That's when she finally hugs Mellea back a says a few words in a faint whisper, distorted by her sobs and gasps so that they're barely understandable. But I still hear them loud and clear.
"Ti amo anch'io."
Ursula was about to fall asleep, trapped in some sort of trance in a land between dreams and reality. She was faintly aware of the sound of the wind rattling her window, and the feeling of the soft material of her couch under her, but at the same time she was only seventeen years old then, awkwardly watching an intimate scene between Croix and her mother. She was about to completely lose herself in those memories when thunder boomed outside, startling her awake. Only then did she realize she had been half asleep for quite some time, and was also able to understand that the sudden rain had been what woke her up.
She must have been really tired after she helped Akko and the rest clean up the courtyard; she hadn't even bothered to turn off the lights before collapsing onto the couch.
Reluctantly, she got up and went to search for her wand so that she could extinguish that troublesome brightness that was hurting her eyes and go back to sleep, properly this time. However, just as she took the wand from her desk, she saw Croix's smartphone next to it lighting up with a notification. Curious, she unlocked it and realized she had multiple missed calls from her girlfriend as well as a few text messages.
She was actually very confused about it before she realized she had promised Croix that she'd call her tonight before going to sleep… something she had completely forgotten about thanks to the entire Akko ordeal. Great.
She was tempted to go back to sleep anyways, but… a promise is a promise. Furthermore, talking to Croix sounded pleasant enough and… she did have a few questions to ask after the vivid trip down memory lane she took. And so, she pressed the call button.
A beep sounded once, and then twice and-
"Hello?"
"H-hey" Ursula greeted her. "Sorry about earlier…" She was interrupted by a yawn she wasn't able to contain.
"It's fine." Croix chuckled. "It sounds like you're tired."
"Yeah… I got pretty tired thanks to all the cleanup we had to do." She explained.
"Did Akko blow up the school or something?" Croix asked semi-seriously. "I can't think of anything else that could make you tired."
"She might as well have." Ursula laughed.
"I hope Diana said yes, or else all that work would have been for nothing." Ursula could hear her amused smile in her voice.
"Of course she said yes! You should have seen them. They were both radiating love and happiness."
"Lucky bastards." She laughed. "I'm kinda envious of them."
"Yeah… I wished you were here right now…" She trailed off with a long sigh, since she knew that wasn't a possibility most of the time.
"Well… I could actually go there right now, you know?" She suggested cautiously. "If you really want to."
"Really?" She couldn't help how enthusiastic she sounded.
"Yeah. I probably can't stay for the night, but… maybe an hour or so? I have more than enough time."
"Sure! I'll put the phone on the couch, hold on." Chariot did just that and then took a step back to avoid any collisions. "Okay, you can come now." She said once it was ready.
There was a flash of light in the room and then… Croix was standing in front of her; messy hair, crooked smile and the black clothes of the prison. Objectively it was nothing spectacular, but Chariot couldn't help thinking that she looked better than ever.
"Hey, Chariot." She greeted her with a soft smile.
"Hey you." She said as she took a few steps forward and wrapped her arms around her lover's neck. Croix's arms soon found their own spot around Chariot's waist and, before either of them could register what was happening, their lips met each other in a fervent dance.
Oh, how she had missed this taste! The feeling of her lips' soft skin caressing hers, pressing against her own mouth almost desperately. She'd missed this exhilarating sensation, this sudden rush of pleasure she had only ever felt with Croix. With Croix's lips, with Croix's hands, with even the faintest touch of her lover, her whole body suddenly came to life. It was like she was an instrument and Croix was playing her; knowing just how to touch her to turn their bond into an art.
"Someone is rather eager tonight." Croix teased as she separated slightly, much to her disappointment.
"Sorry… you tend to have that effect on me." She blushed.
"So I've noticed." She smirked, which only made her blush even more.
"Uhm… d-do you want some tea?" She blurted out, maybe because she needed to find a distraction before her own feelings overwhelmed her.
"Sure! But… it seems like you need something else." She continued with the teasing, wearing that infuriating smile that unfortunately looked so endearing in this situation.
"Croix!"
"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop now." She chuckled and finally let go of Chariot so that she could prepare tea for both of them. Meanwhile, Croix sat down on the couch.
"Were you about to sleep?" Croix asked when she finally realized Chariot was in her pajamas and had her hair down.
"Actually, I just woke up." She answered. "I dreamt about you."
"Oh?" That had obviously picked Croix's curiosity. "Judging by how you kissed me, I bet it was a rather… pleasant dream, if you know what I mean."
"Not really." She admitted as she poured the tea into their cups. "I… I remembered that time that I followed you all the way to Rome."
"Oh." Croix wasn't sure what to say to that. She had purposely blocked those memories in her mind, and she really didn't want to unearth them.
"Have you seen Mellea lately?" She asked despite her best judgment.
"No…" Croix admitted reluctantly. "She has only visited me once, and… let's just say there might have been some yelling involved, so I don't think she'll come back any time soon." She wet her lips and looked down before speaking again, mostly mumbling to herself. "Not that I want to anyways."
"She's your mother." Chariot sat down next to Croix and handed her a cup of tea. "I'm sure she'll visit you again."
"Well… maybe I don't want her to." She answered, looking down at the steaming tea like everything was its fault. "I don't even need a mother anymore."
"You say that, but I can see you're hurting nonetheless." She placed her hand on her lover's back and started caressing it softly, trying to comfort her with just this simple action.
"True. Mellea has done nothing more than hurting me for years." She chuckled bitterly. "But hey, at least she taught me that I can only really trust myself."
"Don't say that! I know that she loves you, in her own way."
"Right." She scoffed, skeptical. "The best thing she's ever done for me is not talking to me for months after I got into college." She shook her head in bitter amusement. "She really didn't like that I chose to study an engineering career."
"I know she has done some bad things, but… at least she's not like… the other woman." She didn't even want to say her name.
"She's not an homophobic witch-hating drug addict that left her own daughter on the street. Yay." She shoot Chariot a deadpan stare.
"You know what I mean! She was there for you for years, she taught you magic and she-"
"Invited Lucille into our home despite my protests because she really needed to look better in my eyes, and the only way she could do it was if I had someone worse than her to compare her to." She interrupted her, and her eyes hardened with barely contained resentment towards her mother.
"That's… I'm sure that's not why…"
"Oh, it was." She quickly downed her tea on one big gulp and then set the cup aside to continue speaking passionately. "And I'm ashamed to say that it worked." She frowned. "For years I kept telling myself 'at least she's not Lucille'. Years. Until one day I finally realized what she had done."
"That's… an interesting theory. But I'm sure that-"
"Stop. Just stop." She almost yelled. "Why do you have to always try and see the best in people? Sometimes someone is just plain evil and there's nothing you can do about it."
There was a moment of silence between them, as they just started at each other, and Croix realized that Chariot's gaze reflected surprise and sadness, but also… pity. She had to look away. She couldn't stand that look.
And suddenly, Croix felt Chariot's warm hands envelop her own.
"You know? There was only once in my life that I hated someone. That I thought she was evil; a villain. An irredeemable monster that only sought to hurt me."
"I'd say that was pretty accurate, yeah." She chuckled bitterly.
"But you know what helped me realize that my friend… my girlfriend… that girl that showed me what love truly feels like, was still there?" She continued, undeterred by Croix's words.
"What?"
"When you yelled at Woodward 'If you didn't choose me back then, then don't come to me now'." She shoot Croix a sad smile. "Those are the exact same words you said to Lucille many years ago."
Croix's eyes widened at the realization. It seemed like she hadn't made the connection before.
"And you know what? That's what made me realize that the whole supervillain persona that you had going on was just a mask. That under that rough exterior, there was a girl who was really hurting, even after all these years." She gave her hand a little squeeze. "I saw someone that had been abandoned by every single person she'd ever loved or respected. Including me."
"That's not really fair, is it?" She sighed. "I didn't even give you a chance to abandon me; I betrayed you. I hurt you on purpose because I was too full of hate."
"Maybe. But… maybe you only did that because I was already abandoning you." She shot her a sad gaze. "I stopped calling you. We didn't see each other in months. I didn't even pretend to try to find the seventh word." She sighed. "You only saw all of that and decided that you had to betray me and leave me before I could do it to you."
"Y-yeah…" She admitted with a grimace. "But I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't acted on impulse; if I had given you a chance to prove me wrong." Finally, she looked Chariot in the eyes. "Unfortunately, just like you see the best of people, I only see the worst in them."
"Including yourself."
"Chariot… I nearly caused World War III. I'm objectively a bad person."
"That was an accident!" She argued. "You only ever wanted to revive magic, which isn't inherently a bad thing."
"But I did some pretty bad things to accomplish it…"
"That still doesn't make you a bad person."
"Why?!" She exclaimed exasperated. "Why can't you just hate me?!"
"Because…" She paused, sighing, remembering the exact moment when all the hate and resentment she had for Croix took the back seat and gave way to the love she still felt for her, as much as she tried to deny it. "I'm not entirely guilt-free either. And I feel like I haven't given you the love and respect you deserve." She paused and shot her a soft smile. "Who knows? Maybe you just needed someone to believe in your heart."
At this, Croix only chuckled and looked away, staying silent for a few seconds before answering hesitantly.
"Well… despite being technically responsible for that cheesy slogan, I can't deny that I have never actually believed in my own heart, so… who knows? Maybe you're right."
"Do you believe in my heart?"
"Yes." She instantly answered. "I didn't, I'm not going to lie, but now? Now I actually do." Her eyes locked on Chariot's once more as she spoke, and then the redhead leaned in so that their foreheads would touch faintly.
"Well then, believe in my heart's faith in you and your ability to do good." She said, breath ghosting over Croix's lips. "I know I might sound naïve sometimes, but… I'm not a little girl anymore. I know what I'm saying; I know there's good inside you. More than you give yourself credit for."
"I really hope you're right."
A/N: Sorry for the delay everyone! I was working on a few projects for Valentine's day and Chariot's birthday (check my Tumblr if you want to see them), so I have barely written lately. Hopefully that'll change now, however.
Wow, this fic really turned into a drama for a hot second there, huh? I didn't expect the "Croix meets her mom" arc to be this long, but I hope you liked it nontheless, even if it's different from the usual content. Next update we'll go back to a more light-hearted story, however, and to these two idiots actng more like normal girlfriends.
Please leave a review/favorite/follow if you want to support me. See you in two weeks!
Thanks to my beta reader moonwatcher13.