Stevie's voice echoed throughout the salon, the woman standing on the same part the brunette witch had once laid. Emily had yet to decide which was more improbable, Stevie Nicks serenading them or the fact that she had gone to hell and back. She stood on her own in the corner of the room in an attempt to ease her nerves. Having something at her back was reassuring, similar to huddling under your sheets as a child. She wasn't sure, however, which boogeyman she was hiding from.

They all seemed so unfazed. Hell was but a mid-week grocery run. Stevie singing more akin to listening to your sibling practice for an upcoming recital.

Myrtle, Zoe, and Queenie sat poised in the corner of the room, so still that she might have mistaken them for an oil painting. Cordelia and Madison were similarly stationed on the other side of the room, Madison standing by the staircase and Cordelia standing by the door. Misty sat on her own, directly in front of Stevie with tears brimming in her eyes. It wasn't hard to see that the woman was obsessed. In fact, it quite surprised Emily that Misty had yet to faint.

Stevie Nicks — The White Witch — sang Gypsy. Emily had heard it a thousand times before in her car, in her room, in supermarkets over the intercom, and she was listening to it yet again. Emily was a witch, she had been to hell, she had fought a demon, found out that her dreams were never really just dreams, and now she was watching Stevie Nicks sing. The fever dream continued and the young witch was just along for the ride.

So still was everything that it was hard not to doubt her own mind. Even the warlocks were perched with bated breath, Behold on the stairs and the others above them. Pennypacker was the only one in motion accompanying the siren that was Stevie fucking Nicks. It was impossible not to stare at her. Still, Emily's eyes couldn't help but flicker up to the new Supreme. Blue eyes met hers before flicking away. Michael's expression was firm and stoic. Her friends back home would have called it "resting bitch face," but she felt there was more to that expression. However, Emily didn't know him enough to quite define what.

He had been quiet since Cordelia awoke — not that he was particularly chatty to start with. Michael and Ariel were perched above them on the balcony. The Chancellor's gloating had yet to clear from his face, his eyes flickering to Cordelia again and again. The former Supreme did not indulge him, keeping her eyes firmly set on Misty as if she might disappear. They must have been close, Emily concluded, for her to look like that.

"I knew you for such a short time, but I have missed you forever," Cordelia had said. It almost made Emily feel bad for doubting the headmistress — almost.

Emily looked around the salon and grabbed a glass of wine. She doubted anyone would comment on her underage drinking. It was the least she deserved after the day's events.

The distorted voice of a thousand tongues still rang in her ears and her desire for answers burned her with every breath. Grabbing a second glass, she gave into the fire. Her feet were light as she made her way towards the stairs. No one noticed her leave… all except one.

Michael's gaze was nothing short of sharp, but there was something else to them. She had seen it in hell, reflected a thousand times over in the mirrors that lined the halls of purgatory. It only flashed across his face for but a moment, but she had seen it clear as day.

Michael Langdon was afraid.

Even now, his back to her as she came to the top of the stairs, she could feel that fear. It was anxious and tense, always on alert. The kind that kept you from everyone and everything. It was a fear Emily was all too accustomed to.

"It's hardly fair," She spoke, Michael turning only slightly towards her in acknowledgment of her presence. Holding out one of the glasses, Emily came to rest beside him. Stevie continued to sing and the others continued to watch, unaware of their conversation or pretending it wasn't happening. "This should be for you. Celebrating your success. They usurped your victory with a victory of their own."

Michael accepted the glass of wine, nursing it in his hand as he leaned on the railing. "I have a feeling this won't be the last celebration we'll have. No offense to you witches, but I'd much prefer something with my fellow warlocks."

He watched her carefully. What had his father meant? A gift? He was supposed to wipe out the witches, not join hands and sing kumbaya. Her eyes focused on him but quickly flitted away back towards the revelry.

Emily shrugged. It was a fair point. She assumed celebrating with strangers wasn't anyone's idea of a good time.

"Still," she said, doing her best to pretend she couldn't feel his eyes on her, "Enraging, isn't it… or, at the very least, frustrating."

"How did Cordelia find you again?" he asked.

Emily pretended not to notice his once-over. Ignoring the question told the young witch all she needed to know. She chuckled and shook her head. "Someone left an anonymous tip. Apparently, there's a hotline or something… 1-800-is-this-a-witch."

Michael smiled, a lopsided expression more to signify that he heard her than out of actual enjoyment. Emily's hazel eyes once again flickered away from his and to the floor before gazing out at Stevie once more. Michael followed her gaze and they rested in a brief, comfortable silence.

"You should be more careful about who you stare at," She said, so low that the boy-wonder barely heard her speak. Her eyes flickered back to him, the light of the fire accenting a ring of gold around her pupil. "and who sees you doing it. Especially in a crowded cafeteria."

Zoe had told her about the tip, naturally. It had been one of the many things that ran through the brunette's brain since she arrived at the academy. A normal person wouldn't have a good enough sense of witchcraft. Hell, Emily hadn't even heard about Robichaux before her sudden transfer. Thus, the only logical conclusion was that the anonymous tip was also a witch… or a warlock.

Emily would be lying if she said that the look on Michael's face didn't amuse her. She hadn't been sure at first, but now there was no doubt. Names were something she had always been bad with, but faces? Faces she always remembered. Especially when they were pointed out by a friend as, "that boy who keeps looking at you."

Michael's lips twisted and his brows furrowed, his eyes immediately going to survey the witches below. They remained unmoving; eyes fixated on the performance. No one's gaze flickered upward. There were no poorly concealed whispering.

"Do they know?" He noted.

"No."

Michael finally turned to look at her fully. Either she had something up her sleeve or had yet to learn of the safety that came with dishonesty.

"Why?"

Emily thought for a moment. It was a good question. The coven had been nothing but kind, but something in her gut twisted whenever she thought about baring all her thoughts out to them. She wanted to call it intuition, but it wasn't as if she could ask Cordelia or even Zoe to confirm that particular assumption.

"They're very opinionated," She finally decided," Everyone is. I need to come to my own conclusion."

"And what is the question you are trying to answer?"

"What game you're playing," she said, surprised when the thoughts spilled past her lips. It was the wine, she imagined. "It's akin to chess, but I can't quite place the name of it."

Michael simply smiled, a detached and unemotional expression. "Maybe one day."

"Maybe, but for now… congratulations."

Once again, her words made him pause. She was the first to congratulate him… even among his fellow warlocks. He quickly spoke to hide his surprise.

"To surviving hell," he said, holding his glass out for a toast. Emily cautiously clinked her glass against his own, the action just as hesitant as when she had taken his hand.

"Did you know," She spoke again after taking a sip and trying to hide the grimace the bitter drink provoked, "historians speculate that toasts were once used to check for poison?"

"Last I checked you brought the wine, not me." Michael said, "unless this is a confession to attempted murder."

Emily looked at him for a moment as her mind comprehended what had just happened, mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Michael felt almost proud of the result.

"No, that's not—" She let out a sigh and pinched her brow, "I ramble when I'm nervous."

"You're nervous?"

"I just got back from literal hell. My nickname in high-school was Satan, but that was just a joke."

Michael laughed. A genuine laugh, not just the ones you did to fill the awkward silence. He tried to hide the expression, but his lips couldn't help but twist into a small smile.

"Think of it this way," he said, leaning a bit towards her as they continued to talk, "you're prepared for the day your time comes."

"That's hardly reassuring."

She took another drink, not bothering to hide her expression of distaste. Emily leaned back on the railing so that she was facing the stairs as if she were expecting someone to sneak upon them. Looking over her shoulder, she stared at her new Supreme and waited for his rebuttal.

"They all have the power to escape their hell," he said, looking back at the festivities below, "they just choose not to."

Emily's brow furrowed, "How do you know that?"

"Call it a gut instinct."

A silence lapsed between them, both observing the people around them. On this balcony, everything felt so detached. They were but spectators in their own lives, barely retaining control.

"Hell's personalized, yeah?" Emily finally noted. Michael didn't look at her, but she could feel his eyes boring into her. He was probably annoyed with her, but for once she couldn't bring herself to care. "What do think your hell would be?"

"What would yours?"

"I have a few ideas." The brunette's lips twisted a bit, a purple hue now forming on them from the wine. "The never-ending hall was close."

"What was that about, anyway?" Michael found himself asking before he could think. "You said it was purgatory."

She could only sigh, her eyes bugging a bit as she tried to think. How crazy was crazy? She didn't even have a basis for comparison anymore. Better yet, how did she even begin to answer?

"I had a dream once. There was a never-ending hall filled with beings that hadn't been human for so long that they now looked more like shadows. I had to walk down that hall with a basket of… something." Emily explained. The glassy fog seemed to appear for a moment in her eyes, but she quickly shook it away. "I'd rather dissect a frog for eternity."

"You have a surprising lack of sympathy for a witch."

"I don't know whether I should take that as an insult or a compliment."

Michael laughed and shook his head. Emily mirrored his expression for a moment, but it quickly fell as her eyes settled on the stairwell. She must have only been in that hellish void for a moment, but it felt like she had been writhing in it for eternity — screaming bloody murder for someone to save her. The shadows of this place taunted her, a predator that could consume her at any moment. Sleep was not going to come easy that night.

"Pain is relative and so seems is hell," She said, voice detached and distant once more. The change made Michael perk up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. "She was in pain… I will be in pain. I am simply jealous of the outlet in which that pain comes in."

"Envy is surprising as well."

Emily smiled, wry and humorless. "What can I say? We can't all be perfect."

Michael didn't respond to that, his eyes narrowing onto movement below them. He couldn't see Cordelia from this position, but he could see Madison. The witch looked back with a confused expression as if someone had thrown something at her back. Her eyes flickered back to Stevie for a moment before she took a few steps back and disappeared out of his view.

Emily followed his gaze, seeing the tail end of Madison disappearing below them. "What do you think they're plotting?"

"You don't trust your own kind," Michael said. A statement. Not a question. Emily simply shrugged.

"I've known this world for two months," She said, "I don't trust anyone."

"Yet."

"Yet," She agreed with a crooked grin, "Though I suppose not leaving me there in hell earned you a few points in the right direction."

"Witches zero, warlocks one."

Emily made a face, lips curling and head cocking in contemplation.

"You're about an even tie at this point." She said.

Once again, the silence consumed them. They had gotten used to it, she presumed. Emily wondered how time worked in hell - things had certainly felt like an eternity. It was enough time to make her feel different, somehow. Her eyes flickered to Michael as he stared into the distance. That was a better question for Cordelia, she presumed.

With a sigh she turned back towards Stevie, allowing herself to be serenaded once more. The song came to an end and they watched as Misty shot up and began clapping. Stevie smiled at her and held out a hand which the woman gratefully took, practically skipping towards the singer.

"You think she'd let me take a photo with her?" Emily asked. Michael gave her a befuddled look, brows knitted and nose scrunching. She didn't notice the look at first, too focused on the scene below them. When she turned, her face immediately mirrored the boy-wonder's.

"It's Stevie fucking Nicks," she said, tone defensive, "My mom was a huge fan of hers."

Michael simply rolled her eyes and Emily scoff at his ignorance. Bringing her glass to her lips, she tilted her head back and downed the rest of it. She grimaced and shook her head before placing the glass on a nearby table.

"Come on," she said, nudging his arm a bit and making her way towards the stairs, "you should get one, too. Hang it in your office when you become Supreme."

Michael turned around to look at her. "You really have no idea of how things work, do you?"

"A month ago, magic was a distant dream of childhood," Emily spoke, giving him a pointed look and gesturing to the room around her, "I'm in the midst of a train wreck which is my reality."

That was enough to make Michael chuckle.

"You're quite the poet."

Emily could only laugh at that, rolling her eyes for good measure, "Whatever you say, Mr. Supreme."

The girl's change of personality was enough to give one whiplash. She had been so timid before they performed Descensum, barely able to meet his eye and cautious as a mouse. Then again, the drinking probably had something to do with it. Michael wondered what she saw in those few moments she had been alone in hell.

Emily waited expectantly. With a sigh, Michael gave in to her demands. Behold looked to them as they descended the stairs. He had seen the brunette pass him on the way up. The suspicion he had before was still evident in the way he looked at her, but now it was accompanied by a hint of surprise. Witches and Warlocks were natural enemies, after all.

Misty's back was to them as they approached, the only thing visible of the woman being her curly hair and flowery shawl. She and Stevie seemed to be in a serious conversation. Everyone seemed to be in serious conversation, talking to one another in hushed whispers.

Michael followed after Emily, hands behind his back. He regarded the room, eyes scanning over the occupants as their eyes flickered towards him. It would be harder to sneak around now given his new position. He'd have to adapt. Sparing a look back towards the balcony, he found Cordelia settled into her corner of the room once more. Madison was nowhere to be seen. Whatever conversation they had concluded. His expression soured ever slightly. Emily must have been a diversion.

"Excuse me," the brunette witch spoke. Stevie Nick's presence seemed to have sobered her somewhat, timid nature returning. Michael turned his gaze back towards her, feeling the eyes upon them. "I don't mean to be rude, but could we get a picture with you? My mother is a huge fan — practically grew up with your songs as lullabies."

Misty was beaming, whatever conversation she had with the White Witch obviously going well. She bit her lip as Emily came to stop beside her as if it was the only way to keep herself from spilling every last detail.

"Anything for a fellow witch," Stevie said happily. Emily reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Misty happily took it from her as Michel awkwardly stood to the side. With a sigh, he shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced to his shoes then back up to the balcony. Ariel smiled at him and rose his glass. Michael offered a strained smile in turn.

His attention was pulled away by movement out of the corner of his eye. When he turned, he found Misty waving him over.

"Your turn, Mr. Supreme!"

Michael could only sigh at the nickname but still walked towards Stevie with a strained smile. He was stiff next to the woman, something that seemed to amuse Emily.

"Congratulations on the promotion," Stevie said as Misty directed them into place, her eyes focused on the camera, "Descensum is a dangerous spell. The last time I visited this coven, it didn't end well."

Misty turned to Emily as she took the photo, showing the results to the brunette who smiled and thanked the woman. Michael pulled away from Stevie, the forced smile quickly leaving his face and into something more amicable. Misty showed him his pictures and he just offered a smile and nod before the woman handed the phone back to Emily.

"Where are my manners," Misty said with an awkward chuckle, motioning to Stevie as she realized the awkward silence building up, "This is Stevie, of course. And Stevie this is—"

Misty paused for a second as she looked to Emily, "Well I don't think I caught your name."

"Emily," The brunette introduced, holding out a hand to Stevie, "I'm new."

The musician smiled and took Emily's hand.

"You have a musician's fingers," Stevie noted.

"Oh, I'm not—"

"Can't lie to me, child. Not only am I familiar with these things, I'm a witch as well. What do you play?"

"Only a few things," Emily admitted, pulling her hands away and allowing them to settle at her side.

"What was your first?"

"Violin," she said, "tried piano, but couldn't quite catch on."

"You've certainly fiddled with the devil today," Stevie noted, turning to smile briefly at her biggest fan, "You were one of the ones who saved our Misty, weren't you?"

Emily glanced towards the boy-wonder before returning to the woman, "Actually, I was just an unintended side-effect. Michael did all of the work."

The brunette stood back towards the man as if to guide Stevie's eyes, biting her lips and looking to him in apology. His eyes flickered from Emily to the other two women, noting their hesitation.

"In that case," Stevie said, ignoring the way Misty looked between herself and the new Supreme, "Thank you very much. You have done a great deed for this coven. Misty is one of the most powerful witches I know."

Her tone was cool and icy. Emily couldn't help watch the two as the tension was drawn between them. It was as if the witches knew something she didn't. It was infuriating.

"The pleasure is mine," Michael said, articulate and direct as if he were giving a speech instead of a conversation. The whole interaction felt like a bravado, an act. "Such is the job of the Supreme."

Emily was pulled away from the conversation as Misty linked their arms together. "So, you're a fan of Stevie?"

The brunette allowed herself to be distracted, "Not as avid as you — or so I've been told."

"Oh she's—" Misty said. Her eyes darted once more to Stevie, then Michael, then back to Emily. She squeezed the brunette's arm for emphasis. "you know how some songs just make you feel like dancin'? That's Stevie for me."

Another glance was given towards Michael, Misty's ever-present smile faltering for just a moment.

"How are you feeling?" Emily asked.

"I'll be better once I see the sun," Misty said, pulling her shawl tighter around her, "Anything's better than this damn candlelight."

"If I stay down here any longer, I may just go blind," Emily agreed, doing her best to be reassuring. She tapped the rim of her glasses with her free hand. "Not that my sight was great to begin with."

Misty smiled at her and squeezed her arm once more.

"So where did Miss Cordelia find you?"

"Georgia."

"You're used to the humidity, then."

Emily nodded, "Too familiar. You from Louisiana?"

"Born and raised," Misty sang, "Spent most of my life living off the grid in the swamp."

"Is it more peaceful?"

Misty smiled awkwardly and gave a nod towards Michael and Stevie. The pair were still talking, Stevie leaning back ever slightly and Michael standing with his hands behind his back.

"Certainly has less politics," The swamp-witch said, earning a small smile from Emily. The two lapsed into silence. Emily was quickly overwhelmed by the sounds around her, head turning a bit to break free of the crackling fire and roar of whispers in every corner of the room.

"If you don't mind me asking," Misty spoke, pulling Emily from the chaos, "What was your hell like? I'm assumin' it's different from everyone. I mean, there was a boy in my chemistry class that seemed to enjoy… well, you know."

"Do they have dissections in chemistry?"

"He was an avid learner." Misty said, "or, at least, that's what his parents called it."

If the horror of childbirth wasn't enough to dissuade Emily from having kids, Misty's comment was enough for her to swear them off entirely.

"It's all a blur, honestly," she said, returning to Misty's question, "All I remember is a door by the River Styx then—"

"Styx?" Misty asked, nose crinkling and brows knitting. Emily opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a boisterous voice from above.

"I believe this would be a good time to make a toast," Ariel spoke from above them, clearly enjoying the control he had over the room, "In celebration of old friends and new…"

Emily found her mind wandering as the man spoke. Misty hadn't known what she spoke of. Was it because of descensum? No, it couldn't be. From the bits and pieces she had been able to collect from her fellow witches, Misty had lost her life performing the same task they did.

Hazel eyes flickered back to Michael only to find him staring at her in turn. Emily didn't know how to feel about that look in her eyes. She had seen fear, but that was the most dangerous expression a person could wear. It meant they would do anything to get themselves out of a corner. Michael was a snake sizing her up. Was she a threat or his next meal?

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Madison awoke in the night to muttering. In all honesty, she hadn't had the chance to fall asleep in the first place. While she wore the title of "cold bitch" with pride, the fact that Cordelia looked to her for such a monumental task was suspicious at best. Well, she was a powerful witch — powerful enough for Fiona to think she was supreme.

Her hand went to her neck instinctively. The swamp-bitch's shit was enough to remove all signs of trauma, but some days Madison swore the gaping wound was still there. Being strangled to death the second time probably didn't help the fact. Neck-related trauma seemed to be her shit.

With a sigh, Madison tossed and turned, throwing her sleep mask off the side of the bed. This place was darker than fucking night, anyways.

She had just settled back to sleep when the muttering came again.

"Can you can it, Persephone?" Madison snapped, "Some of us want some fucking beauty sleep."

"Finis venit," she heard again, somewhat slurred and groggy, "Ante infinitium."

"Look, Satan," Madison snipped once more, pulling her phone off the bedside table and turning on the flashlight, "Go the fuck to sleep before I shove my foot up your—"

Madison wasn't scared by much. She had been to hell where she worked in customer service and given a hand-job to Harvey Weinstein. However, when the light landed upon her temporary roommate, she was, at the very least, startled.

Emily was almost going full exorcist. Sitting straight up from the blankets in which she had made her bed, her eyes stared lifelessly ahead.

"Fenis venit," she said again, a drunken-like slurring to her voice, "Ante infinitium."

Then she fell back and resumed snoring.

"Fucking freak," Madison scoffed, turning off the light and pulling the covers up.

She should have roomed with Zoe.

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"How'd you sleep?" Zoe asked Emily as they all stood outside the academy. Two bodyguards packed their things into the car and Emily could only shift from foot to foot as she watched them.

The younger witch's eyes flickered between the bodyguards and her mentor. Why did they need bodyguards, anyways? "Fine."

"With Madison?" Queenie said, letting out an incredulous laugh on Emily's left, "yeah right. She had you sleep on the floor, didn't she?"

Emily's eyes flickered to the ground and her lips pursed together.

"… Maybe."

"Girl, you went to fucking hell, but you're going to let a blonde bimbo push you around?"

"It kind of worked out," Emily said, "She snores."

Madison, only a few feet away from the trio, scoffed loudly and rolled her eyes. Queenie could feel the starlet's eyes boring into her back.

"How loud?"

Emily's eyes flickered back to Madison whose nostrils were flaring as she glowered. She expected the look to silence the girl.

"Like a bear."

Queenie laughed and even Zoe couldn't help but snort. Madison crossed her arms and huffed, stomping her heel into the ground in protest. She looked like that dog in 101 Dalmatians — the one in the beginning with its snout in the air pompously.

"At least you don't have to share a room with her," Zoe said, leaning in close but not bothering to lower her voice, "Did the earplugs help?"

"Very."

"Whatever," Madison snapped, "at least I don't talk in my sleep."

"And?" Emily said, finally turning to look at the woman, "that's quiet… and amusing, if you think about it."

Madison's eyes narrowed and she took a few steps towards her. Emily sighed as she recognized the signs of a square-up, the woman coming until she was barely a foot away from the brunette.

"You know they have a saying about bears and sticks," Madison said.

Zoe took a step towards the two, "C'mon Madison. Can't you just chill for like five seconds?"

"That you should wave one around at a black bear, but not a brown bear?" Emily asked, crossing her arms and ignoring Zoe entirely, "Really important distinction, I've heard."

Madison frowned and narrowed her eyes. The next thing Emily knew, the end of her skirt was on fire.

"What the hell, Madison!" Zoe yelled, quickly moving to perform a counter-spell. However, as soon as she began to cast it, the fire was gone. Emily hadn't moved an inch, her eyes still firmly set on Madison. She didn't… she couldn't… could she?

"Consider it a lesson," Madison said, crossing her arms and smiling smugly.

"In what," Zoe exclaimed, "bitch-craft?"

Myrtle's voice silenced any further retorts, coming to stand with the group with Cordelia at her side. "Can we wait to start the petty squabbles once we get out of this damnable place?"

"Whatever," Madison said, clipping Emily's shoulder as she pushed her way towards the car, "I call shotgun."

Cordelia spared a glance at the other three witches and they followed Madison's lead obediently. Zoe squeezed Emily's shoulder as she passed, offering a reassuring smile.

"How are you feeling?" Cordelia asked once the women were out of earshot.

Emily didn't have a snappy response for that one.

"Different," she finally decided after a few moments of consideration.

Cordelia patted her cheek. Her eyes were sad as if she knew what the girl had gone through. Emily didn't like when people presumed things like that.

"The pain will fade."

"It's not the pain I worry about."

"Then what is?" Cordelia asked, brows furrowing.

"The fact that everything made sense there."

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a shout from the car.

"Come on, Delia," Myrtle called, "The plane takes off in two hours."

Smiling and nodding, Cordelia squeezed Emily's shoulder. "We'll talk more later."

The brunette had barely a moment to think before she felt a weight over her shoulder. Jumping a bit, she turned to find that Misty had swung an arm around her. The girl was all grins, constantly looking up to the sky and spinning around as if she were dancing from the second they stepped outside.

"Don't worry too much about Madison," She said as the two sauntered towards the car, "She's always mean."

"So I've heard."

"Wonder what her hell was."

"Retail," Emily said, "or so she said. Kind of generic, don't you think? Then again, generic would probably be an insult to her. Irony, I guess."

Misty laughed, "I like you. You're funny."

The ride to the airport was eventful. While all the girls were tired and ready to go home, a playfulness emerged from their delirium. Cordelia sat near the front of the car, talking in hushed whispers to Myrtle as the rest of them held an avid debate in the backseats. She would glance back at her girls now and again via the rear-view mirror.

"You should really get that checked out," Emily said, turning back to the starlet, "Snoring is usually a sign of breathing problems."

Stationed at the center of the car, the newest addition to her family seemed to be blooming. Cordelia had never heard the girl speak so much. She had worried, naturally, the effects hell would have on the girl's psyche. However, her instincts had been right. Giving the girl something to conquer had done Emily some good and revealed more of the magic in her bones.

Madison huffed. "I don't snore."

"Like sleep apnea or something?" Zoe asked, clearly reveling in any conversation that pissed off her former roommate.

"Kind of," Emily said, "when you snore it's because air can't get through your air passages properly and causes the surrounding tissue to vibrate… or floppy airways."

"Hey, Madison," Queenie shouted between chuckles, looking back to the tiny back seat the starlet had been shoved into, "You got floppy airways!"

"At least I don't have floppy skin." Madison snapped before grumbling, "Will probably live longer, too."

"The fuck did you just say?"

"Actually, the belief that weight is correlated with health is inaccurate," Emily said, "Correlation does not equal causation. Also, haven't you died three times already?"

"Here's a question for you," Madison said, "Do you know how to mind your business?"

"Depends — Do you know how to not be a bitch?"

Queenie let out a barking laugh. Misty giggled a bit as well, leaning into Emily with a smile.

"Almost always," She whispered to the brunette.

"What did you say, swamp rat?" Madison demanded, taking off her sunglasses just to glower at the pair. She much preferred it when Emily was nearly mute.

"Girls," Cordelia finally sang, feeling a headache coming on, "can we please save the bickering for when we get back to the academy?"

"Sorry, Miss Cordelia," Misty quickly apologized, shrinking in her seat.

Madison was anything but apologetic. "Emily started it!"

"Like hell I did!"

"Girls!" Cordelia exclaimed, the whole car falling into a tense silence. If not for the gentle rumble of the engine, one could hear a pin drop. The silence was quickly interrupted by a nearby car slamming into their horn.

"Still quieter than Madison's snoring," Emily muttered quietly, a chuckle leaving Cordelia despite herself. Looking in the rear-view mirror, Cordelia watched as Misty leaned into the brunette and whispered something in her ear. Emily smiled and whispered something back, Madison loudly scoffing in response.

She made the right choice, letting Emily into the academy. Still, something the girl had said was stuck on repeat in her head, "…everything made sense there." Misty had said the girl had used powers in hell. Emily had told the headmistress of her dreams, but Cordelia had also been to hell. It was no dream, not in the slightest. It was real as anything.

Cordelia's eyes flickered to the back seat, watching her girls. She couldn't help but wonder if Michael was the one truly rising or if fate had a different future in mind.

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Author's Note:

Hey guys! So sorry for the delay - if you follow me on Tumblr, you know that it has been a battle trying to get time to work on this next chapter. Between school and work, the burnout is strong this semester and the senioritis definitely doesn't help. Is it just me or are teachers putting a lot more on our plate than they did last semester?

Anyways, here's chapter 17! Thank you so much for your continued support. Your comments, follows, and likes really make my day. I know there are a few comments I have yet to respond to, but I will be able to get to that today. This chapter is shorter than usual, but I hope you enjoy it!