Lucy isn't unused to the sound of girls crying in bathroom stalls.

High school had been a tiring experience, after all. Friendly to no one.

She never made the habit of talking to any of the crying girls.

It's not like she could do anything for them. Besides, she learned after her first few tries back in freshman year that, as empathetic as she is, she's not particularly good at being comforting. She's not good at much of anything when it comes to other people, really. She can feel everyone's pain, but she only ever seems to be able to make it worse.

But—something is different, this time. The crying is muffled, muted. Something about it is nagging at Lucy Bennett, and she hesitates, looking at the stall door. Nothing seems all that unusual. Just as she starts to move on, dismissing her strange feeling, it swings open.

"Serena?" Lucy's eyes widen. Those same gold eyes, the ones that sit on her mantel in her home (the only picture she has of her extended family) stare back at her.

She freezes at the sound of her name, one foot out of the stall. She meets Lucy's eyes, her jaw clenched.

"Lucy," she says neutrally after a moment, she had been much younger when they first met and Lucy can't help but be pleased the young girl even remembered her.

Her voice is calm, cold, but the evidence of her emotion is all over her face. The light mascara is smeared, and her eyes are red.

"Are you okay?" Lucy asks. She tries to make her voice soft. Comforting. Serena looks—fragile, in a way that Lucy has never seen before.

Serena snorts. "I'm fine," she says. The words come out sarcastic and grating. She goes to the sink and wets a paper towel, dabbing at her eyes.

Only then does Lucy take in her rounded belly. What it means. If she did her calculations right, this girl is recently turned 15, pregnant, and alone. "Serena," Lucy says again, but fails to follow it with anything. Serena pauses in her cleaning and meets Lucy's gaze in the mirror. They look at each other for a long moment. It has the strange...charge, as if something very significant is happening.

Right now, she just knows that Serena looks tired. More than tired. Hollow.

"I want to keep it," Serena says, snapping them both out of whatever trance they've been in.

"What?" Lucy says. It comes out a bit abrasively, and she winces, but Serena doesn't seem to notice her tone.

"The baby." Serena turns around, leaning against the sink, and meets Lucy's eyes in real life, instead of through the mirror. "I—I don't want to—to give it up." She shrugs. "I never have."

"Oh," Lucy says. "Oh. Serena…"

"I have to, I just—" Serena shakes her head, and Lucy can see fresh tears forming in her eyes. "The baby needs to have a life. A good life. With—with parents who love them and can afford to feed them and give them a home—they need to be good people." There's an urgency to the way she says the last words. "They need to be good."

"You are good too," Lucy says. It's the wrong thing to say.

Serena closes off.

Lucy watches as it happens, as a mask locks back down over Serena's features. Without a word, Serena goes back to fixing her makeup. Lucy watches, a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She just wants to make things better, but she's upset Serena all over again. She pulls a bottle of eye drops out of her pocket, and Lucy suddenly realizes that this is habit for her.

She's used to this.

Apparently, Serena Bennett has spent a significant amount of time crying in the bathroom, and Lucy isn't sure what to do with that information.

There's a duffle bag by her legs to large to be something she's just carrying around. Her fingers grip the edge of the sink, turning white.

"Why aren't you in Mystic Falls?"

Serena barks out a laugh.

"Haven't you heard? I'm not welcome."

"Shelia-"

"Doesn't care."

She pushes past Lucy and walks out into the diner, her head down and her shoulder slumped.

Serena is quiet.

She doesn't take up much space and the space she does take up she makes sure to clean it right back up.

She's subdued and constantly reading.

It's odd really. Feels like living with a ghost.

She's pensive and always seemingly so far away in that mind of hers.

"How did this happen?" Lucy blurts out one evening and Serena doesn't so much as flinch, she just drags her eyes over to Lucy's holding an intensity, a raw power that Lucy had only ever contributed to ancient vampires.

The minutes tick by

And Lucy's stomach gives a harsh twist. She's trying not to look in her direction, but she can't help it.

There's just something about her that's drawing the older Bennett in, and she feels powerless to stop it. It isn't even as if the girl is doing anything. She's just sitting in the corner, a pensive look on her face and a storm raging in her deep gold eyes.

If Lucy hadn't already witnessed many atrocities in her line of work, she's convinced she would be terrified of what she sees there.

The girl still hasn't moved a muscle.

She's sitting perfectly straight, those emotions continually swirling in her eyes in such a dangerous way that Lucy's convinced she's going to have to remove her from the room at some point. She can almost see the explosion waiting to go off.

"I don't think it was consensual."

The air seems to be sucked out of the room with that quiet, broken confession.

There's an anxious aggression to her words. Her arms are crossed over her chest, though it looks like more of an attempt to hold herself together, and every so often her fingers trail down her own arm in a slow, absent caress.

"I'm not sure if how to define what happened. I don't even remember what happened." Serena looks out the window. "I always thought I had everything figured out. Things happen all of the time. Good and bad. My mom hates me for having magic. She left. My Grams loves Bonnie more than she could ever love me. I was my mother's teenage pregnancy and she always resented me for that. My "dad" isn't really my biological father... these are all things that happened, things I've managed to get through. I survived them with a determination I didn't even know I had, until I just did."

"Serena..." Lucy begins but she isn't sure what to say, she never knows what to say in the midst of grief.

Her hand trembles. Lucy just wants to break everything that has ever hurt this girl.

"I didn't know what to do," she says quietly. "So, I just ran."

"You know I would've taken you in sooner if you immediately came to me, right?"

Serena straightens, her face a blank mask again and Lucy knows her time is up.

Lucy fights back a sigh; she had wanted a glimpse into Serena's mind, but now that she's gotten a glimpse of it, she's starting to realize it's not all it seems. She had known it wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows in that mind of hers, but Lucy selfishly wanted to be the one who saved Serena Bennett.

Now, she's beginning to think she just wants to care for her instead. Because Serena doesn't need saving, she needs a hand, because she matters, and she doesn't have to be alone all of the time.

"What are you writing?"

Serena looks momentarily startled, and she immediately closes the notebook in her lap. Her expression settles again, and Lucy is relieved she doesn't look angry or irritated as she approaches. In fact, she just looks resigned.

"Just some random things," Serena eventually answers, which surprises Lucy, because the two of them haven't had any verbal communication in a while. "I'm actually brainstorming baby names."

Lucy blinks. "Can - can I hear some?"

Serena traps her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, visibly thinking it over. She eventually nods and reopens her notebook. "I'm having a girl, by the way," she says.

Lucy feels a smile spread across her face. "That's amazing, S."

"It is," Serena says, and her voice is filled with a sense of wonder. "I - I want her to have a strong name, you know? Something to carry with her through her life; something to remind her that, although the circumstances of her birth are... less than ideal, she's always going to be strong and resilient regardless."

Lucy, who is sitting in the chair beside Serena, gently touches her forearm. "For what it's worth, I think you would make a great parent."

It's maybe the wrong thing to say, because the light in Serena's eyes dims significantly. She clears her throat. "Perhaps," she murmurs, and then scribbles something on the page.

Lucy sneaks a look, and caches sight of Miranda, Emily, Ayanna, Cecilia, Mary, Alias-

Serena sighs, and then closes the book. "Maybe I'll just know when I see her," she muses, and then her expression turns pained. "If I'm allowed to hold her that is."

Lucy has no idea, but she still says, "Of course they will let you, Serena."

"Even if I give her up for adoption?"

Lucy still doesn't know, but she still says, "Yes."

Her shoulder sag slightly, almost in relief.

"By the way, I quite like the name Alias," Lucy adds a moment later.

Serena glances at her, a tiny smile on her face. "Me, too."

In another world, Lucy might be able to ignore the deep brokenness in Serena's eyes, the same way everyone else seems to be able to do.

It tugs harshly on Lucy's heart, and it takes until the third trimester for her to say, "I would miss you, you know?"

Serena is busy trying to cram for her exam (online schooling a blessing in disguise), and it takes her a moment to look away from her notes and give Lucy her full attention. "What?"

"I would miss you," Lucy repeats, carefully reaching for Serena's left wrist and tracing the pads of her fingers over the faint scars. "If you were gone. If you were suddenly just not here, I would miss you. Gods, I would miss you so much."

Serena meets her gaze steadily. "I don't want to go anywhere."

"Then don't."

"I won't."

"Good."

Serena rolls her eyes. "Idiot," she says, teasing clear in her eyes. "Now, let me get back to work. I might be a badass, but I still have to pass."

The first time she meets Katherine Pierce, Serena is running into her.

At this point she waddles more than she genuinely walks and her belly seems to be throwing off her center of gravity, although to be fair she wasn't expecting one of Lucy's friends to be around.

"I'm sorry," Serena mutters keeping her head lowered. As it always is these days. She immediately pulls back and only when Katherine doesn't say anything does Serena lift her eyes.

The woman before her looks like an older version of one of Bonnie's friends, (Eleanor, or something like that), and her eyebrows are furrowed as she looks at Serena's belly.

"Who are you?"

"Serena," The younger girl introduces quietly. "I'm Lucy's cousin."

The woman with dark chocolate hair tilts her head. "Did your parents kick you out or something."

"Or something," Serena mutters back.

Serena is saved when Lucy enters the apartment and almost immediately does the girl slink back into her room, quiet and ghost-like.

"I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition," Serena echoes. Her eyebrows raised. "I'm not robbing a bank with you."

"Be serious, please, Serena," Lucy says. "It's about…the baby...Alias?" Serena's hand goes to her stomach, and she looks away.

"I haven't decided if I'm staying with that yet," she says. "Or if I'm…going to name her at all."

"You should," Lucy says. Serena looks back at her, eyebrows slightly raised.

"Yeah?" she asks, and Lucy breathes an internal sigh of relief upon seeing that the mask is still gone. Serena's voice is curious, not defensive.

"Yes." Lucy takes a deep breath. She stays where she is on the edge of the top stair. She thinks she might need the high ground; what she's about to say could make Serena…upset. "Because I…I think I've found away for you to…sort of keep her."

"What?" Serena asks. Lucy shrugs, half-smiling, waiting for Serena to ask her to explain herself.

Serena doesn't.

"I told you not to tell anybody," Serena says, clenching her jaw. Lucy's heart drops. "I told you—"

"Serena." Lucy walks down the steps, walking quickly towards Serena. Serena takes a few steps back, and Lucy realizes suddenly that she is afraid. She doesn't think she's ever seen Serena afraid before, and the sight makes her stop in her tracks.

"S, please listen," Lucy says. "I just want to help."

"I didn't ask for help, Lucy!" Serena snaps. And Lucy can't help but flinch at how scathing her tone is.

"Please," Lucy says again. "Don't shut me out. Not yet. Let me explain first."

Serena closes her eyes, a muscle twitching in her jaw.

"Fine," she says, and it's still tense, but it's not soulless. Not yet.

"We have some cousins in Baltimore. They, well she, is married and has a good job, decent with magic-" Serena nods, and Lucy forces herself to continue. "I told her because I—I wanted her to adopt your baby." That forces the last remnants of the cold mask off of Serena's face, replaced by sheershock.

"…What?" she asks.

"Hear me out," Lucy insists, even though Serena is making no attempts to leave. "Ernest Bennett has been trying years to have a baby, she's unfortunately infertile and her husband well he isn't much better in that department. They can provide her with a good, safe home, and money, and everything else you mentioned before. And they'd be willing to make it an open adoption, Serena. You could see her whenever you wanted."

Serena shakes her head, once, twice. Her hands cupping her belly.

"I can't do this."

"Serena-"

"I have nothing to say to you," she snarls. That tone of voice hasn't come out of her since the bathroom incident. "Nothing at all."

"I get you're mad, but you can't keep putting this off, Serena. You have to do something-"

"I am not mad," she hisses, finally looking up and the vacant, distant look in her eyes breaks Lucy. "What I am feeling is the furthest thing from mad. I don't even know what I'm feeling."

"So you are mad?"

In a burst of rage, the fireplace jumps to life, flames nearly pouring out of it. "Do you- do you have any idea what this is like?" she asks and the pain in her voice is nearly too much to handle. "Do you know how much- God," she spins around, shoulder hunched. She can't help but breathe heavily in an attempt to reign in her emotions.

"Serena?" Lucy says quietly. The strength in her voice surprising even herself, though it means nothing because Serena is still shaking. "Will you please look at me?"

She draws tighter around herself.

"Please?"

Nothing.

"Please, Serena?"

Serena doesn't lift her head. "I can't," she says and she sounds strangled. "I can't," she repeats. "I'm going to end up saying things I regret."

"Say them," Lucy says immediately. "It's okay. I can take them."

"I can't," Serena let's out a sob. "I can't, and you shouldn't want me to."

"I need to know what you are thinking."

Serena clenches her eyes shut. "I don't want to abandon her...the way Abby abandoned me- I- I don't want to be like Abby, but I am and I don't know how to be better."

"This isn't abandonment," Lucy immediately pushes back. "And you aren't like Abby. At all. You aren't in any place to take care of a child, and you know that. I know how much you want to keep her, Serena. And I know that you know you can't."

Silence fills the room.

"I could see her?" Serena is half-whispering, and Lucy can't help but take another step towards her. This time, Serena doesn't back away.

"You could see her," Lucy confirms. "You—you need to understand, though, Serena, she would still be their daughter. Not just legally. If they're going to agree to this, they're going to be her parents."

"But I could see her," Serena says again. "I could hold her, and talk to her, and—and—" She stops there. She isn't really looking at Lucy anymore; her eyes are a bit glassy. Lucy reaches out and takes Serena's hand.

"You could do all of that," she says. "You won't be her parent, but you could still be her mother." Serena nods slowly, her gaze sharpening once more. "I think I would like to meet them first, can I- can I do that?"

Lucy smiles warmly.

Ernest and her husband, Leo, pay for their flight to Baltimore.

Serena carries herself with something Lucy can't quite recognize these days.

There's something about this Serena that commands.

And she's different again when she meets Ernest and her husband Leo. With a lightness, a sweetness that immediately enchants the wife and husband.

Lucy burns with the desire to demand for the reasons why, but it's unimportant now. This girl may always remain an enigma to her, and that's… okay.

It's not, but she's forcing it to be.

"You wouldn't make her feel ashamed of her magic. You would nurture it. Help her and it grow." Serena says suddenly and they all turn to her. The young Bennett's jaw is tense and her fists clench, but that's all that's immediately apparent.

But then her eyes flash dangerously, and the fury startles Lucy in a way that shakes them all.

"Yes, of course," Ernest immediately affirms.

"I have to leave her," Serena says, and she almost snarls when she says the words. "I have to go back to school and return to my life, as if - as if it even means anything anymore. As if I have to forget," Serena sucks in a breath. "If I have to do that, you have to take care of her with everything you have."

The girl looks perfectly put together, every little thing in place, but it's obvious she's not okay.

Serena squares her shoulders, recovering from her almost-breakdown, and looks Ernest right in the eye. She's practically pinning her in place; forcing her to listen and pay attention. Ernest has never felt this with anyone - not even her superiors - and the truth of that makes her palms sweat.

"You are not allowed to do anything less than love her," Serena says clearly. "You can never abandon Alias. Can never try to break her, or lessen her, because she is worth everything. Do you understand?"

Lucy knows she should make sure the girl understands she shouldn't be like this, especially to her own family.

But Serena's words sound like an instruction.

A demand.

No, a command.

Lucy is almost disgusted with herself at the fact that she already feels herself following the order and it wasn't even directed towards her.

Jesus.

"Promise me," Serena finally says. "I have to know that somebody is going to keep looking out for her. She deserves it and, if it's not going to be me, it has to be you, so you are not allowed to stop. Promise me."

Ernest audibly swallows, and then says the most dangerous words of her entire career. "I promise."

The baby is born on rainy day in late August.

Serena is bone tired, and weary, and tired of crying about the life that she's leaving behind here, in the choice that shes making.

Lucy has been solid for her, but its not until she steps into the room and tentatively says, "I know that you feel like you are losing everything today, but you created utter perfection," that she feels it's really over.

The baby is asleep on her shoulder, and its tiny hands are fisted against her neck, and Serena watches as Lucy moves closer and sits gingerly on the edge of the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a bull," Serena says honestly, her hand warm against the baby's back.

Lucy doesn't say anything; just watches them both for a very long time, and then she takes out her phone and snaps a very slow, carefully framed photo.

"I know you won't want to see this for a very long time- but it's here, for when you do, okay?" she reaches for Serena's hand, holding it tightly.

She wishes Lucy would wrap her arms around her and just hold her. It's the kind of affection that people show each other in movies, but not one person in her life will actually ever show her, because it's a sign of weakness, wanting soft and comforting forehead kisses.

She's been weak long enough now, and she's delivered the excuse she had for it. It's over.

"What are you naming her?" Lucy asks.

"She's not mine to name."

Lucy gives her a knowing look.

"Her name is Alias Marie Bennett."

Lucy runs her finger down the baby's tiny, tiny legs.

Lucy is pretty sure she is going to have a hand-shaped bruise forever etched into her skin, where her arm was being squeezed by Serena.

Serena is the first one to hold her when she's born before she's handed off to her new parents.

"She's so small," Serena murmurs. This is not the first time she's observed this in the few hours since they brought Alias home from the hospital to the Bennett house. She seems fascinated with just how minuscule a baby really is, staring at Alias's tiny fingernails as she drinks from a bottle.

"She is," Lucy says, smiling. "She's also asleep, I think." Alias has been a remarkably quiet baby so far, and Lucy is desperately hoping that will continue.

"It's going to take some getting used to," she says. "Thinking of them as her parents, instead of me."

"I know." Lucy doesn't want to overstep her bounds, but she can't resist—she puts an arm around Serena's shoulders. Serena doesn't resist the contact. She actually leans into it, resting her head on Lucy's shoulder. "But we have time, S. It's going to be okay."

Serena inhales sharply, and Lucy feels her tense up beneath her arm. For a moment, Lucy prepares herself for the mask to come back up, for Serena to lash out at her, but then Serena exhales slowly, shakily.

"Serena," Lucy says, turning slightly to wrap her other arm around Serena as well, pulling her into a hug. "What's wrong?"

Serena shakes her head and buries her face in Lucy's collarbone.

"It's—it's going to be okay," she says, her voice trembling. Not just her voice, Lucy realizes—Serena's whole body is shaking in Lucy's arms. "It's gonna be okay, Luce." She lifts her head, not breaking their embrace but shifting back enough to look Lucy in the eye. "Do you know how long it's been since I've believed that?" Lucy reaches up, wiping away a few of Serena's stray tears with her fingertips.

"I'm guessing awhile," she says.

Serena half-smiles, her breathing beginning to slow once more, and nods vigorously.

"Would you like to go to bed now?" Lucy asks. A thought suddenly occurs to her. "Have you slept at all since Alias was born?"

Serena shrugs. "A little bit at the hospital," she says. "But yeah, I'd—I'd like to go to bed, if that's okay."

Twelve days later, when she is back at Lucy's apartment, Serena goes for a run.

She doesn't look at her dinner and see calories or miles she'll have to run these days; she just sees food. Just survival, health. But Serena knows what her body can look like, and this—stretch marks, leftover pregnancy weight, fat in odd places, a total lack of muscle tone—this isn't it. She just wants to look in the mirror and see herself again.

So Serena laces up the running shoes she hasn't worn in months and takes off down a route she googled—four and a half miles, around the pond and back. She knows it'll be hard; she hasn't really worked out in months, but she's sure she can take it.

She's wrong.

Serena lies down on a bench when she gets to the park, chest heaving, spots in her vision. Her brain feels like it's full of steel wool—scratchy and undefined, andpainful. She should've brought water. She really should've brought water. There's a few vending machines by the park bathrooms, but she's not sure she can drag herself that far to buy a water bottle. Certainly not without catching her breath first, at least.

By the time she's caught her breath, though, Serena doesn't really feel like moving. She wonders absently if she can just take a nap here on the bench. The sun is pleasantly warm, but not yet hot, and the hard wood feels like heaven beneath her back. Plus, she's not sure she can move.

"Serena?" a familiar voice says, and Serena's eyes slip open again, squinting against the sun. With an immense effort, she rolls her head to the side and sees Katherine approaching the bench.

"Katherine, right?" Serena asks, her voice hoarse. The brunette raises her eyebrows, stepping up beside the bench.

"Yeah," she says. "You look disgusting right now."

Serena groans. She doesn't have enough energy to bicker with Katherine. Instead, she just closes her eyes again. A moment later, she feels movement near her face as Katherine sits down beside her head on the bench.

"Are you alright?" Katherine asks. Serena hums.

"Went for a run," she mumbles.

"A run," Katherine echoes, a note of amusement in her voice. "A bit more difficult than you remembered?"

"So much fucking harder," Serena says, the profanity slipping out easily. "I used to have abs, Katherine," Serena says. "Abs. Do you know how much work that was?" She shakes her head.

Katherine laughs at that. "It is a struggle and most of us don't naturally just bounce back."

"Well that sucks. Hey, do you think you could buy me like five waters from that vending machine I think I might actually pass out if I stand up."

Katherine makes an amused sound, but still gets up and goes to the vending machine.

Only then does Serena consider her words.

Us.

Serena feels strange.

The weight just won't drop as quickly as she is hoping.

And she's pushing and pushing herself, until she literally drops.

Ten minutes later, she's lying on the sofa and drinking some water while Lucy hands her a wet washcloth to put on her forehead.

"I don't knowwhatyou were thinking," Lucy says, clearly annoyed. "You could've gotten sunstroke, and passed out somewhere anddied. Are you not aware that labor is a serious physical trauma and that most women need six months to fully recover from it? I know you feel uncomfortable with your body but pushing yourself like this is in no way healthy."

Serena sits through the lecture, she listens. .

That steel-wool feeling has never quite left her head, and she's tired all of the time. She starts sleeping past noon for the first time in her life, staying up late doing nothing on her phone and sleeping until her stomach is roaring at her to get up and eat. She sleeps, and runs, and shops with Lucy and Katherine, and even as her body starts to come back to her, Serena feels like she doesn't quite fit into herself anymore.

She ignores it and studies year round, this pregnancy threw her off the course she wanted her life to take.

She's determined to get her life back on track.

Lucy comes around the corner into the kitchen and Serena is standing in front of the fridge with the door open, staring into it blankly.

"S?" Lucy says. Serena doesn't respond.

Frowning, Lucy reaches out and taps her shoulder. Serena starts slightly, turning to face Lucy. "What are you doing?" Lucy asks. Serena blinks, glancing back at the fridge. She lets go of the door handle, and the fridge falls shut.

"I don't know," she says. "Just spaced out, I guess."

"Are you alright?" Without thinking, Lucy reaches out, pressing the back of her hand against Serena's forehead to check for a fever. Shockingly, Serena doesn't shy away from the contact—although she does roll her eyes at Lucy's fretting.

"I'm fine," she says. "I'm just tired."

Something nags at Lucy. She had done a lot of reading on pregnancy when she had first learned about Serena, wanting to help anyway she could, and right now, a few articles she had stumbled across are sticking in her mind.

"You're tired a lot," she says.

"I did have a baby."

"A month ago, yes," Lucy says.

"Lucy." Serena's tone is a warning, one that says, don't push. Lucy pushes anyway.

"Would you say your chronic exhaustion started after you gave birth to Alias?" she asks.

"I wouldn't say I'm chronically exhausted," Serena says, exasperated. "I wouldn't say I'm exhausted atall, actually."

"Right, because the leftover spaghetti was just so fascinating to stare at for three minutes," Lucy replies.

Serena's eyes seem black then, dead but shining. Shark's eyes.

"Would you leave it alone?" Serena snaps. Her eyes narrow, too thin to be called a glare, but acerbic all the same.

Lucy let's Serena walk away, but she can't let it go. Something is wrong. So very wrong.

"I think," Serena says one quiet evening, and Lucy immediately starts listening because these days, Serena doesn't speak much at all. "I think we should talk about something."

"We talk everyday."

Serena then pins Lucy with those vicious gold eyes of her. "No we don't. Not really."

That makes Lucy flinch.

And when she does she makes Lucy feel stupid. It's not purposeful or at all in any way meant to be degrading. But in a way it is.

When she doesn't voice her thoughts, Lucy tries. "Are you okay?" she then looks down. "I know it's a stupid question, considering what happened, but are you okay?"

It is a stupid question, so it deserves a stupid answer. "Do I seem different?"

"You're a little different," Lucy answers. "But you've always been a little different. Brilliant strategy. That way no one ever knows if something is wrong."

"I think there is so much wrong with me that it's all tangling together into this massive thing." She leans her head back, stares at the ceiling.

Lucy reaches for her hand, and Serena doesn't even try to grip back. It was like she didn't care if she was able to hang on.

She stares at her cousin- she looks bored, and the smile that was so infectious before is nothing. Lucy doesn't know her- never really did- but the sad thing is, it's still probably better than anyone else.

When she first met Serena she thought she wanted for things bigger than her. Now she wonders if she feels anything.

Lucy is tired of trying to make her feel.

Things get worse before they get better. The first year after Alias's birth is mainly spent ignoring things.

She is supposed to be better now. Is supposed to be soft and new. Supposed to be someone entirely different from herself.

She stops eating normal portions of food around the same time Alias's first birthday approaches.

It probably stems back to an issue of Serena thinking she somehow failed her daughter. Or doesn't deserve someone to love the adult softness of her hipbones or the new fullness of her breasts. It's a physical separation, and she almost would like to not exist in her own body.

Serena gets better.

(or her mask just comes together more completely).

And then she gets her life together in a way that leaves the people around her adequately satisfied.

And she does.

Eventually she graduates, she excels at magic, she gets sent monthly pictures of Alias that she looks at everyday. She goes to college for free on all of her academic scholarships.

Everything is finally becoming better.

And then nine years later she gets a call.

Shelia Bennett is dead.